Chapter Twelve

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?"

Thiago clipped a pair of aviator sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose, shielding his eyes from the glaring rays of the sun. Eden stood opposite him, clad in an all-black jumpsuit. Her flattened curls peeked out the bottom of her full-head helmet, bunched to one side in a long, tight ponytail.

She craned her neck upward, gazing through the blue tinted visor of her helmet. Five heavy sacks of millie flour painted with bullseye targets hung from the branches of a strapping, leafless tree. Thiago moved behind the trunk and prepared to change the positions of the sacks. Eden grunted, wielding a powerful weapon on the ground next to her.

The steel rod glinted as it caught the sunlight. The top consisted of a foul metal ball fitted with serrated spikes and the thick, upturned ends of screws and bolts. As she raised it high above her head, her sore arm hurt from repeatedly lifting the weapon.

"I'm sure. Bring it on."

The sacks of flour began dropping sequentially at varying lengths, with Thiago orchestrating the flow from behind the tree. Eden swung forward, her arm burning with fatigue and the repeated exertion of force. She missed the sack to her left on her first try. Her blow fell flat on the target behind it. As she froze momentarily thinking about her failure, a sack in her blind spot swung directly at her. The bag smacked Eden in the visor, knocking her backward and onto the ground.

"Do you still think the helmet was a bad idea?" said Thiago slyly, extending his hand.

"Gloating's unattractive," Eden snapped back. She accepted his hand, allowing him to help her off the ground. Dusting off the dirt from the legs of her jumpsuit, she removed her helmet and held it against her waist. "I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew. My legs are sore from running with you every morning this week. I've fallen on my ass more times than I can count. I feel like I've got the brittle bones of a 90-year-old. What was I thinking?"

"The 90-year-olds on this planet are at the height of their physical abilities. What other excuses do you have?"

"I know, I know," Eden said miserably. She looked around at the makeshift training arena Thiago had meticulously constructed over the past few days. "When I asked if we could do a little one-on-one training session, I was expecting a couple of punching bags. Maybe I could run through some tires while you cheered me on from the sidelines."

"Are you giving up so soon? I knew it would be difficult for you, but I thought you'd last a little longer."

"I didn't say I was giving up," Eden interjected with a raised eyebrow. Her face glowed with determination. "I just need a little break."

"Good," said Thiago, a knowing smile settling on his lips. He handed her a flask filled with water from a satchel strapped across his back.

"Thanks," said Eden as she started taking huge gulps of water. She tipped the container back and splashed the rest of the water over her sweaty face. "Did you go to a bounty hunter training academy? Where did you learn to do everything?"

"Most bounty hunters are self-trained. I hauled in my first captive when I was fifteen. I've grown accustomed to being alone all my life. I guess I figured it was always better to be safe than sorry. I observed and learned from watching others – how to swim and scale obstacles. I've never needed anyone else. Hercules was sufficient company. He's taught me more than anyone else could."

"I can believe that," said Eden. Her heart warmed at the glisten of affection in Thiago's eyes every time he mentioned the name of his beloved companion.

"You need to be vigilant. You can never be too prepared for whatever's out here. Even the most out-of-shape schmuck on this planet has twice the upper body strength than that of a 'fit' human."

"Does this mean you're going to let me tag along on your next mission?"

"No," said Thiago bluntly. He was unmoved by the disappointed expression on Eden's face. "Your training is in case you ever have to defend yourself in the spaceship. You'd be more of a burden than a help to me right now."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," mumbled Eden. She glared at the sacks of flour hanging above her. They were all completely intact. "What am I doing wrong?"

"You need to adjust your stance," said Thiago, enclosing her in a half-embrace from behind. He placed his hands gently over her fingers, closing them properly around the weapon. He guided her hands forward in a straight, swinging motion. "Raise the windsor above your head and strike down for the most powerful strike. For you to hit the targets, it's important to be aware of the placement of the windsor's head at all times. Do you think you can try again?"

Eden exhaled deeply, nodding. Thiago went around the tree and picked up the loose ropes off the ground, looping them around his fingers. Eden pulled her helmet over her head, her breath fogging up the visor. As she counted down internally, she made a thumbs-up sign with her hand.

"Ready!"

The sacks began dropping, taunting her as they dangled in front of her. An uninhibited war cry sprang from her lips as she charged forward, the weapon raised high above her head. Her eyes were glued to the sacks like she was a hungry predator. In swift, hacking motions, the spikes of her windsor pierced through each and every one of her moving targets. Adrenaline sizzled through her veins as she jumped up the tree. The ridged soles of her boots locked into the trunk. She lifted off the ground for only a moment, yet it was enough to bludgeon the last bag of millie flour to oblivion.

Eden landed on the ground, gawking at the scene around her. Coffee-colored grains leaked out of perforated holes in the bags and covered the ground in pools. Deflated sacks lay in the dirt like they'd been vigorously trampled by a stampede of horses. Thiago emerged from behind the tree, pride bursting from a toothy grin on his face.

"Not bad for a beginner. I'm impressed."

"Not bad?" Eden repeated giddily, breaking out in a victory dance. "I was magnificent! I didn't know I could do that! What are we going to do next?"

"Don't you want to take a break? Maybe get some lunch?"

"No!" Eden's eyes darted around the clearing of the training arena. "Let's do one more thing, and then I promise we can break for food."

"Whatever you say. Your shooting skills need a lot of work," Thiago agreed. He looked back at Hercules, who was chasing a couple of avians around the parked spaceship. "I'll be right back. I need to pick up some practice targets and fix Hercules a meal."

Eden placed her helmet on the ground and slowly wandered off to a cliff at the edge of the clearing. She unzipped a few inches from her jumpsuit, fanning her hands and welcoming a fresh draft onto her body.

A sense of vertigo gripped her as she gazed at the breathtaking violet and marigold scheme of the Runic territory fringe. The landscape was free from the pollution and smog in the city. A body of sparkling, flawlessly cerulean water was in the center of the land, surrounded by purple rock formations the size of small hills. Beyond the dreamy landscape were additional mountains and cliffs similar to hers. Slanting her head to one side, she began to relax.

Eden thought she could see the distinctive facial features of her sister Janine carved into the natural creases and crags on the side of a distant mountain. Of course, it was only a trick of her mind. In fact, she couldn't even see the resemblance unless she had her head positioned at a particular angle. Still, Eden tilted her head to the right again, a sense of nostalgia compelling her to take one step forward.

Mesmerized by the rock formation, she didn't notice she had stepped over a broken line on the cliff's edge. The ground began shaking from her weight. By the time she realized the danger, it was too late. The floor crumbled under her feet. Her twisting stomach churned at the sudden plunge.

Eden's arms flapped forward, managing to grab the jagged edge of the cliff. She kicked her feet as they dangled underneath her uselessly. Her voice sounded strange to her ears as she screamed and the color drained from her face. Terrified, she glanced up at her reddened fingers and white knuckles.

"Help! Thiago! Hercules! Help!"

Her fingers began to slip.

"Anyone..."