Ranadel

Marianna was sound asleep when the plane shuddered once and then fell out of the sky. She woke with a jolt, biting her tongue painfully in the process. She was tipped forward, looking at the floor but the force of the dive pressed her back against the seat. An orange cup dangled in front of her nose. Her brain struggled to make sense of things. What the hell was happening? Who was making that dreadful screaming sound?

With a bang, luggage tumbled from the overhead lockers, most of it landing in the aisles and sliding away toward the front of the plane as fast as it fell. The screaming got even louder.

Marianna swallowed convulsively.

Everyone was screaming because they were going to crash. The plane was out of control and heading straight for the ground.

Marianna gripped the armrests, and pushed her feet hard against the floor, as if that would save her from falling. She might be a trained Agent and an expert shot, but she still hated flying. This was her worst nightmare.

Her heart was pounding a million miles a minute and she couldn't think. The orange cup swung wildly, hitting her in the face. Wha-? "In the unlikely event of a..." The litany espoused by a dozen smiling flight attendants over the years suddenly connected with her terrified brain. Oxygen. She was supposed to put on the mask so she could keep breathing.

She pried one hand away from the arm rest and grabbed the mask, holding it over her nose as directed. Terrified of falling, it was the hardest thing she had ever done to take her other hand off the armrest and pull the elastic over her head. But the fierce pressure from the dive kept her in the seat and it dawned on her that she wouldn't be able to get out even if she wanted to. Trying not to hyperventilate, Marianna breathed in and out, her hands going back to the armrests for comfort. She made the mistake of looking out the window, and saw the ground flying dizzyingly up to meet her.

I'm going to die. When will my life start flashing before my eyes? she wondered, with a touch of hysteria.

Although her life had been pretty good for the most part, there were certainly a few bits she'd rather not recall in too much detail. How horrid to have that final humiliating scene with Alex to be her last memory. That ghastly cliché, coming home early one day to find her lover in bed with another woman. She stifled an overwrought giggle. As if that mattered now! As if anything mattered now. Nothing like the threat of imminent death, to put things in perspective.

In less than a minute she was going to be dead. Marianna closed her eyes. But even though her lids were tightly shut, she still saw the bright white light which suddenly filled the cabin. She frowned. Weren't you supposed to see that after you were dead?

~~~

Prince Alleyne was sound asleep in his bed when a black-hooded figure climbed over the windowsill. Silent as a wisp of smoke, the figure approached the bed and placed one gloved hand down hard over Alleyne's mouth, pinning him to the pillow.

Alleyne woke with a start, trying to breathe, his hands going up to fight off his assailant's wrist. It was like gripping an iron bar. He thrashed wildly. Quickly, the intruder held a small dagger in front of Alleyne's terrified eyes, making sure he saw it clearly before pressing it against Alleyne's throat, the tip pricking the soft skin, ever so slightly.

"Shh!" whispered the intruder. "Quiet, and you won't get hurt."

Two more hooded figures climbed through the window. One held a black scarf between her hands and Alleyne panicked. They were going to murder him in his bed. His head jerked instinctively, sending the dagger skittering across his throat.

"Damnit! He's going to kill himself," swore the second intruder. "Control him can't you?" A large fist loomed over Alleyne's face and then he knew nothing more.

When he came to, he was upside down over someone's back, being carried through the dark streets of Ranadel like a sack of grain. His head ached, his jaw ached and his stomach felt queasy. A cloth tied tightly across his mouth, not only added to his discomfort but prevented him from crying out. His arms dangled in front of his face, tied together at the wrists, and a strong arm held his legs firmly against his kidnapper's chest.

Where were they taking him? He tried to raise his head and see if he could recognise his surroundings, but as if his movement had triggered a reaction, the kidnapper broke into a rough trot, causing Alleyne to bounce dizzyingly against her back. It was all he could do not to throw up.

Eventually, the small group halted and Alleyne was dropped roughly onto the ground. His right shoulder and hip hurt where he landed, his nightclothes poor protection against the stone paving. He breathed heavily through his nose, anger coming to his aid. How dare they treat him like this? He glared up at his tormentors, and saw that night was fading, the sky starting to turn from black to indigo. At the same time, he realised he could no longer see the tall buildings of Ranadel. They were already outside the town. His heart sank.

The next minute, he was hauled up and slung over the shoulder of the third kidnapper and they were off again, this time heading into the desert. Despairingly, Alleyne wondered how Talior would ever find him now.

~~~

Talior fought her way up the steep slope, the shifting sand threatening to send her sliding back to the bottom with every step. A small troop of palace guards trailed behind her but she couldn't afford to wait for them.

Sweat stained her leather jerkin and ran down her forehead into her eyes. Impatiently, she rubbed the back of her hand over her face and ploughed grimly on. She had no time to waste. Every second counted. If the kidnappers made it across the top of the sand dunes, they could disappear into the desert without a trace.

She refused to give up hope. They might have had a candlemark's start on her, but they also had the burden of carrying their victim. Talior thought of Alleyne, bruised and defiant, in the rough grasp of strangers. He must be terrified, but if she was any judge, he wouldn't let his kidnappers see it. Alleyne might be only a man, but he was strong inside. She gritted her teeth and increased her pace, her calves aching with the strain. Only a few yards to go, now, and she would see them.

Talior refused to consider that she might already be too late.

~~~

Marianna opened her eyes to find herself lying flat on her back, looking up at a violet sky. Two bluish suns hung low on the horizon. She shut her eyes. Damnit! I must have hit my head. I'm hallucinating. She opened her eyes again. Nope, the sky was still violet and there were still two suns.

The plane crash! She sat up and looked around wildly. Where were the pieces of aircraft? The other passengers? Surely she could not have been the only person to survive? But there was absolutely no sign of the plane. No twisted sheets of metal, no bits of luggage, no passengers. She was alone. She realised she was still wearing the orange oxygen mask and plastic airbag over her face, but it was no longer attached to anything. Useless. She tore it off.

Her brain struggled to process what her eyes were seeing. She appeared to be sitting on top of a golden sand dune. More sand dunes stretched to the horizon on her left and on her right she could see enormous mountains, with what appeared to be a city nestling at the bottom. Tall, graceful towers of blue and indigo glittered in the early morning light. It was like nothing she had ever seen before.

A flicker of movement at the edge of her vision caught her attention. In a daze, she turned her head for a closer look. A group of three figures was cresting the dune to her north—or was it south? Their black clothes stood out sharply against the golden sand. Even as she watched, the group stopped, dropped the heavy bundle one was carrying, and took off their cloaks. In a flash, they turned them inside out, revealing the golden lining. One of them drew a fourth cloak from a thick belt around her waist and wrapped it round the bundle on the ground. They put their cloaks back on gold side out, and suddenly Marianna was struggling to see them. Against the sand, the camouflage was almost perfect.

Then the bundle wriggled, dislodging the cloak. Marianna got a glimpse of a terrified face staring right at her, before the cloak was pulled over his head again, and his body picked up and hoisted over a shoulder. The captive's eyes had seemed to plead with Marianna, begging her to help. She didn't think the others in the group had seen her, occupied as they were with their own priorities.

The fear on the man's face and the roughness with which his captors handled him, shot her straight into agent mode. She might be stranded on an alien world but she could still tell a kidnapping when she saw one.

What could she do? She didn't have her gun with her, nor even her pocketknife. They were both packed securely in her checked luggage as per airport requirements. All she had were the clothes she was wearing, her phone, and the oxygen mask from the plane.

The kidnappers were getting away while she was sitting there. She had to do something. She looked around her for anything she could use as a weapon, even a good-sized rock would be better than nothing, but all she saw were a few small stones amongst the sand. An idea popped into her head and she looked at the mask. Worth a try, she thought, gathering a handful of stones and putting them in her pocket. She scrambled to her feet.

Carefully, she placed one of the larger stones inside the orange mask and drew back on the elastic until the mask was against her left cheek. Then she aimed at the kidnappers and released. The stone flew through the air and clipped the nearest kidnapper on the back of the head. She fell straight to the ground. Marianna felt a fierce thrill as she loaded the makeshift slingshot again. The remaining kidnappers were swivelling wildly, trying to spot the source of the threat. Her second shot took out another kidnapper on the temple. The only one left standing was the one carrying the victim and Marianna hesitated to fire again. The last thing she wanted to do was hit the captive.

~~~

Panting, Talior crested the dune to see a tall stranger standing with her back to her. She was wearing outlandish clothes and held a curious object in her hands. Was she friend or foe? Talior drew her sword as the stranger spun around to face her. Then Talior saw the kidnappers further down the dune, two of them lying on the sand.

"Thank you, friend!" she said, lowering her sword.

A puzzled expression crossed the stranger's face, as if she hadn't understood the words but the gesture of lowering the sword was clear enough. She smiled and pointed toward the kidnappers. In an instant she was bounding down the slope, the sand sliding under her feet. Brandishing her sword, Talior followed, whooping loudly. There was no value in silence now.

The remaining kidnapper dropped Alleyne unceremoniously on the sand and turned to face them. She held a long dagger in each hand. The stranger reached her first but instead of engaging the enemy immediately, she tossed a handful of sand right in her face. The kidnapper swore viciously, her eyes streaming, and flailed wildly with her daggers, but the strange woman had bought just enough time for Talior to reach them. She struck out with her sword, knocking one of the daggers flying. The kidnapper slashed with the other, slicing into Talior's ribs.

But before the kidnapper could press her advantage, the stranger struck, stabbing her with a dagger she had taken from the nearest body. The kidnapper fell to the ground, mortally wounded.

Talior pressed a hand to her bleeding side. "Alleyne! Are you hurt?" she called, anxiously.

Seeing Talior had difficulty bending, the stranger squatted down to pull the cloth from Alleyne's face and cut off the gag. She cut the rest of his bonds and helped him to his feet.

Talior watched, relieved to see her brother looked unharmed—mostly—but amused by the look of adoration he was giving the stranger.

"Thank you for your assistance," Talior addressed the strange woman, courteously. "I am Princess Talior of Ranadel and this is my brother, Prince Alleyne. What reward would you claim for rescuing the Prince?"

She could tell the stranger did not understand her words. She tried again in the universal trade dialect, but the stranger still looked bewildered. What land had she come from, that she did not speak the trade language?

They stared at each other for a long moment, wondering how they could communicate.

The stranger held her hands out as she looked around, shrugging her shoulders. Was she saying she was lost?

Then the stranger reached out and took Talior's hand in hers—and smiled.