“I’ll make him run in front of me,” Evindal stated, his voice weary. “If we come to a place of defense, we should just use it. Rydaeron is a mess because of his brother, and Irielle isn’t much better because of her illness. I don’t think we’re going to outrun those beasts for the next six hours.”

  Simban’s heart went out to Rydaeron. He didn’t even have time to grieve his brother because he was still running for his life.

  Welcome to our fucking horrible world, sheltered elf.

  He would try to talk to Rydaeron later, to tell him how his brother had saved him. Simban still couldn’t believe that Galaeron had jumped in front of him.

  He sacrificed himself for me.

  Simban had never thought that would happen. Never. Why would an able-bodied elf sacrifice himself for a broken cyborg? The information in his head was extremely valuable to both of their peoples, but it still didn’t make sense.

  He forced his mind back to the present, and thought ahead to the terrain he’d covered getting to the mountains. “May be place in two hours. With caves. And high ground,” he told Evindal. But Simban was beginning to wonder if they had two hours. “Should check how far Ardaks . . .”

  Evindal understood him right away. “Rydaeron, can you climb a tree and tell us how far the Ardaks are?”

  Rydaeron brushed at his reddened eyes and nodded, going to the closest tree.

  Simban hiked up the nearest hill, setting Irielle down just before the top. He chose the far side so they wouldn’t be visible to the Ardaks if they were trailing them.

  “What’s wrong?” Irielle asked, groaning with pain as she stretched her cramped limbs. She shimmied up beside him.

  “Ardaks following. Want to see how far.” And at this rate, they’d be on them before they reached Renwyn. They were almost to the edge of the high ground. Even the snow was mostly melted away from the daylight sun in this region.

  From there, it would be all downhill to Renwyn’s territory by the sea. The running would be easier, the ground much cleaner without snow, but it would also be easier for the Ardaks.

  The sun was setting, the sky filled with shades of gold and rose, and he admired it for a few seconds before he started down from the tiny hill, fixing it in his memory.

  Will this be our last sunset?

  If his chip had worked like everyone else’s, it would have calculated the odds for him. But he didn’t need the chip to know that their chances were slim.

  Their only advantages were that the Ardaks would be tired, possibly injured, and angry. And anger never made a good warrior.

  But even with those things, he wasn’t optimistic about their chances. He and one Ardak had almost killed each other the first time, and if he hadn’t wounded the Ardak so badly with the cure, the enormous cat would have stayed to finish him off.

  If we could make it to Renwyn, we would have backup.

  But even if they could, he didn’t want to lead three Ardaks right to their doorstep with no warning. They could kill half the survivors before they were stopped.

  But if they kill Evindal and me in battle, Rydaeron and Irielle will die, too. Along with the information from the ship.

  He had no fantasies that she would get away while he fought the Ardak. Or that Irielle could make it to Renwyn on her own.

  He glanced down at her. “Ardaks not far. Maybe an hour behind.”

  She swallowed. “I guess that means we’d better hurry.”

  They went back down the hill and joined the others. All agreed to jog the rest of the way since the Ardaks were gaining on them. They set out again, this time with Irielle jogging on her own. They continued along as fast as they could, all seemingly lost in thought.

  Simban ran as fast as he could. But even that was slower than other cyborgs, and probably slower than the three elves could have run. His chip should have regulated his pace, helped to control his movements so he was more efficient. But it didn’t. In fact, his right foot still wasn’t working as well as his left, causing his stride to be slightly off. He tried shortening his left stride, but the right became even shorter.

  Not for the first time, Simban cursed the fact that he didn’t have the mental communication that his brother and the other cyborgs seemed to have. If only my chip actually worked…

  But there was no use in being angry over something he couldn’t change.

  Strategically, they should fight the Ardaks as close to Renwyn as possible, in case they succeeded but a couple were too badly injured to go on. Then Irielle and the others could continue on and bring back help.

  He thought about various means of defense they might have.

  “Can we do something else?” Irielle’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “So we don’t have to fight them?”

  He examined her face. It was obvious that Irielle was thinking the same thing he was. “No. Fought them before. Must win now.”

  Her expression was bleak. “There are three of them now.”

  “Have faith, small elf. Must stop Ardaks before Renwyn.”

  “Why? They can’t get through the shield.”

  “No shield anymore.”

  “No shield?” Her eyes widened in dismay.

  “No power.” He sighed heavily, thinking of the thick double barrier that the others said had shielded Renwyn from the outside world. “Too long. Can’t explain.”

  “Right.” Her lips pursed in thought as she searched the sky for answers. Then she raised her chin. “You’re right. Better for us to die than have them stalk us to Renwyn.”

  “No guarantee they will stop. Must kill before Renwyn.”

  Night had fallen when they got to the place he wanted to defend. “Let’s stop here.”

  Evindal nodded, glancing at the small cliff in front of them. “You’re right. This is a good place.”

  A good place to die.

  Evindal didn’t say it, but from their agonized expressions as they glanced at each other, all four of them knew he was thinking it.

  The pass was like a small, circular cove without water. The cliff in front of them was about two heads high, leaving much high ground from which to shoot. A cave sat to the left, and was an ideal place for them to hide and then sneak up on the Ardaks from behind. They could also kick the Ardaks down as they tried to climb the steep, rocky side of the cliff.

  “It’s the best chance we have,” Rydaeron commented. “I’m going to climb the cliff and gather wood for fires.”

  His voice was flat, but at least his mind seemed clear. They were going to need him for the fight.

  “I’ll check for water,” Evindal offered, heading off to the west.

  Simban climbed the steep trail to the top of the cliff. It wasn’t an easy climb, even though it was short. When he reached the top, he walked off the trail to a place with a good vantage point and set Irielle down gently on the blanket.

  Rays of silver moonlight set her face alight.

  So beautiful. I want to be with her forever.

  Then he remembered her people.

  But in no way am I good enough for her.

  He searched back through the trees below for the Ardaks. They weren’t visible yet, but he knew they were coming.

  And my time has just run out.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Irielle

  Irielle had been trying to save her strength for the battle she knew was coming. After Geeeroo had healed her, the pain in her body and her chest had almost completely eased and her cough had disappeared.

  But since her use of magic for the landslide, she could feel it rapidly returning. She was brutally tired. Even her eyes ached with the strain of keeping them open. Her head hurt. Her joints, even her very bones were pained. The tightness in her chest refused to loosen, and she had already coughed a few times.

  She watched Simban as he searched the trees behind them for the Ardaks chasing them.

  And at that moment, she knew why the Ardaks had picked his people to turn into cyborgs. Everyone had assumed it was because they were the tallest, largest, physically hardiest people on Aurora.

  But that wasn’t it. It was their inner strength. Their raw power, the determination she could see in his eyes. The ability to push through pain that would stop most beings in their tracks.

  And she knew why her magic had picked him. Because as long as he breathed, Simban would never let anything happen to her. He would guard her, treasure her, and care for her as his true love.

  As I will do for him.

  “Simban . . .”

  His gaze went to her face, his eyes serious. He brought his hand to her face, gently rubbing his thumb across her lips. “Irielle. We may die. Can I . . . kiss you . . . one last time?”

  She blinked, not expecting the request from him.

  His face fell, his lips drawing into an unhappy line. “I know. Stupid.”

  She brought her hands up to cup his face. “You can kiss me as many times as you like. But not because we’re going to die.”

  He nodded, slowly bringing his face toward hers. As if he was afraid she was going to run away.

  When their lips met, magic tingled through her. Her heart was full in a way she’d never experienced before.

  She wished she would have stayed with him in the mountain. Or that he would have come with her.

  We could have had each other.

  We could have had time.

  And in all her years before the invasion, she’d never imagined that time would be something she lacked. It had always stretched out before her, her coming years almost infinite in number.

  “Simban,” she said firmly. “We’re going to live. Because I’ve been waiting my whole life to do that. And I want to do it a lot more. And no starry Ardak is going to steal that from us.”

  His eyes had burned with desire, but at her words, they began to burn with a different kind of fire. Righteous anger. Determination. The will to live.

  “That’s right,” she whispered, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. “Let’s kill these Ud’Ranns so we can go home.”

  His eyes widened at her curse word.

  But she had the right to curse. She’d lived past the end of the world, been tortured by jungle felines from another world, and she might die just when she’d found true love.

  She was going to fight this fucking battle with every breath left in her body, every last little spark of magic left in her cells. “What can I do?”

  Simban rose and held out his hand. “Come with me.”

  They rejoined the others at the bottom of the cliff, where Evindal was sketching out a rough plan. “This is just what I think. Feel free to add to it or change it, you two. You’ve fought them before.”

  “What do you have?” Irielle asked, as she took in the rough lines he’d drawn in the dirt.

  “Rydaeron will be positioned on the right cliff face, Irielle on the left. They can both shoot. I will be down here at the entrance to the cave, with Simban up on top in the center.”

  “Why you down here?” Simban asked, his eyes searching the cave.

  “There is a hot spring inside. I can channel it.”

  “You have water magic?”

  “Actually, over time we can do all four types. That’s why our eyes are gold. But my first affinity is water magic, and I’d like to use every advantage I can get.”

  “Agreed,” Simban answered, clearly not really liking the idea. “I will stay below.”

  “No, you should go up,” Evindal argued. “You can prevent them from getting over the side of the cliff.”

  “Yes. But down here . . . distraction.” Simban’s gaze was hard as he looked at all three of them in turn. “Three Ardaks.”

  “Four Ardaks,” Rydaeron broke in.

  “Four?” Simban asked, clearly surprised.

  “I saw four when I was in the tree.”

  “Fuck. All right. Four Ardaks. Four warriors. We each kill one. Arrows.” He pointed at her and then to Rydaeron. “Water.” He pointed at Evindal. “Fists.” He pointed at himself.

  “Or fire.” Rydaeron said, pointing at himself. Then he pointed at Irielle. “And earth.”

  “Don’t care how,” Simban said clearly. “Just kill them.”

  Then they all clasped arms. Two elves from the village, an elf from Renwyn, and a cyborg from Siirti. All three elves called their magic, and it swirled around the circle, the three becoming stronger than they could ever be individually. Irielle could feel it swirling around her, refilling her as much as it could.

  Our fates are tied together now.

  She climbed the short trail almost straight up to the top of the cliff. Once there, she clasped arms one last time with Rydaeron. He didn’t quite meet her gaze, and she simply stood there until he did. Impulsively, she gave him a hug. His arms stayed at his sides, but she didn’t let go for long moments, trying to send him strength. His brother had saved Simban. She could never repay him for that.

  Then she let go and turned to the left while he turned to the right. She examined the clifftop around her. No boulders. But there were plenty of tall, wide trees.

  And if an Ardak was going to kill Simban . . .

  She would rip one of those fuckers right out of the ground.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Simban

  Simban took his position behind a tree just to the right of the cove while Evindal waited just inside the cave for the Ardak.

  He wished, for the thousandth time, that his chip worked. He could have called for help over the frequency the cyborgs used. He could have been a better fighter, his senses more acute, his reactions faster than most other beings.

  The only advantage he had was strength. Sometimes. If his chip worked. And speed. Also if his chip worked.

  Anger filled him at the thought that the Ardaks had broken him, and the others would suffer because of it. If he’d been faster, then maybe Galaeron wouldn’t have died.

  And if he died here, the others wouldn’t know the Ardaks were coming with an army.

  Galaeron had died so that they all could make it to Renwyn. Irielle deserved to get the cure. Rydaeron deserved to find a woman. And the others deserved to get this information.

  Before the chip, he’d been a good fighter. He’d held his own with the others, even besting those bigger than him as often as he was bested. If he had his axes, he would have torn their heads off. Axes worked better than swords for that type of thing, there was something about the counterweight.

  He hadn’t had a good fight in a long time. The Ardaks were so much different from his people, their weapons so much more powerful. If he could get rid of those weapons, well, they would still have fangs and claws, but he still had his knives and swords. The odds would be far more even.

  The faint crunching of leaves on the ground alerted him to their presence.

  Moving so slowly it was almost imperceptible, he peered around the tree at them.

  “They came this way.” An Ardak sniffed the air. “But, it seems as if they’re still here. The scent hasn’t dissipated.”

  “Be quiet,” the second Ardak replied. “Didn’t I tell you the cyborg speaks Ardak?”

  He peeked around the tree again. The Ardak’s gait was hitched, his color off, and he wasn’t standing straight. It seemed that the white powder was working, but so was the knife wound Simban had inflicted on the Ardak.

  Just then, the Ardak beside him dropped, two arrows through its head. The one behind him also fell, a frozen icicle through its heart.

  A roar of rage came from the Ardak he’d fought. “Cyborg! Come out here and fight me, you coward!”

  The other Ardak fired shots from its ray gun into the cliffs above.

  Simban didn’t think before he sprang out at the wounded Ardak, trying to slit his throat from behind. But his enemy had been ready and flipped him over its head.

  Simban drew his sword as he turned to face the enormous cat, and the Ardak matched him, their blades meeting with a clash.

  “You think you can best me, cyborg?” the Ardak growled. “I left you bleeding in the snow.”

  Simban pointed a finger at him. “Ran away yowling.” Then back at himself. “Even with broken chip!”

  The other Ardak looked like it was going to interfere, but Simban’s Ardak waved it away. “No. This cyborg is mine.” It turned back to Simban and puffed out its chest. “That’s right. You didn’t even make a proper cyborg. As I recall, we left you in the trash.”

  That hit below the belt. “Must like trash. Followed me from mountain.” He glanced up, trying to scan the trees for the others.

  “Because you declined my generous offer.” The Ardak followed his eyes. “Don’t worry. I just stunned them. I’ll deal with them after I’ve finished with you for killing my brethren.” The Ardak’s body trembled with rage, and it bent its legs to pounce. It was obviously finished talking.

  Simban jumped up into the air to meet it, and again their blades clashed. He tried to think of a way to make it angrier.

  Inadvertently, his gaze went to the cave, and the second Ardak’s eyes followed. Another shaft of ice came from the dark opening, but the Ardak blocked it with his shield. Evindal sprang out of the cave, not wanting to be trapped within it.

  Simban angled toward him, and together, he and the elf stood with their backs to the cliff, trapped by the Ardaks.

  “I saw you with the female, you know,” the Ardak said. “I’ll deal with her next. Get revenge for the fact that I’ll never see my littermates again.”

  And for the first time, Simban’s vision went dark. He was going to kill the Ardak. They came to this planet, stole his people, his life. Stole his body. They would not take his woman.

  He pulled out his knife and attacked, sword in one hand, knife in the other. Their blades clashed again and again, but all he managed were small nicks. The Ardak was too good.

  He turned to see Evindal fighting the other Ardak, using his sword and shards of ice that kept coming from the direction of the cave. But his Ardak was also fierce and skilled.

  In desperation, Simban went in low with his sword, and as the Ardak met his blade, he raised his arm to get the blades out of the way and lunged with the knife. His entered the Ardak’s abdomen with a satisfying squelch.