“Once was enough. They’re down four ships now. I don’t think they counted on losing two of their heavy cruisers. If we’re lucky, one of them was their flagship.”
They weren’t that lucky.
The remaining heavy cruiser pulled out before the Phoenix could get there, followed so quickly by the last four destroyers that Ekatya knew there had been no sudden change of command. Whoever was directing this battle was on that cruiser.
All five ships streaked away, heading for Alsea at top speed.
6
Blacksun Base
As the publicly acknowledged lover of the Lancer’s Lead Guard, Lanaril had become familiar with Blacksun Base. Fianna had secondary quarters there, taking up residence whenever Andira needed to spend time on base. Despite its foreign nature—a small community made up entirely of warriors—Lanaril grew to enjoy it and even feel comfortable in its environs.
The location was inspiring, high atop a mesa surrounded by ancient forest. In the distance, Blacksun’s skyline sparkled and winked with reflected sunlight in the mornings, sliced silhouettes into the sky at sunset, and glowed with life at night. Closer in, the towering trees sheltered a winding maze of trails. Fianna knew them all, and though Lanaril was born and bred in the city, she was learning to appreciate the quiet beauty of these woods.
But never before had her transport been escorted in by fighters. Never had she been obliged to wait in her seat until she was visually cleared by armed warriors with orders to be certain she was who she claimed to be.
“Our apologies, Lead Templar.” The painfully young Guard stood back, holding her door. “Thank you for your patience.”
“I understand.” She stepped out to join Lhyn on the bricks of the landing pad. “It’s an unusual day.”
“That it is. We’re glad you’re here. Today of all days, we need the blessings of Fahla.”
“Today of all days, she is watching over us.” Lanaril smiled with an assurance she did not feel. It was enough. The young Guard grinned back, relaxing as he closed her door and rejoined his three fellow warriors.
Not until they were out of earshot did Lhyn speak. “Do you believe that?”
“Yes, of course. Now, if you ask whether I believe her regard is a guarantee that neither of us will lose someone we love . . .”
“I’m not asking,” Lhyn said shortly. “I know better.”
They exited the landing pad and walked south along Aerial Way, an ancient road constructed when Blacksun Base was little more than a collection of wooden barracks. Though the barracks had long since given way to gleaming domes of glass and stone, Aerial Way was unchanged, its surface still paved with the original flagstones. It circled the base, hugging the cliff edges and wide enough for six warriors to run abreast. Fianna used it as a running route when she was short on time or wanted to enjoy the open views.
A cool breeze brushed past, laden with the dry, aromatic scent of the surrounding trees. Wisps of clouds lingered at the horizons; in another hantick, even those would be gone. Soon the breeze would cease and the heat of the day would begin.
If Lanaril closed her eyes, she could almost convince herself that it was a normal summer day. She would meet Fianna in a few ticks, and they would continue south, taking one of the trails that switchbacked down the mesa to vanish in deep forest.
With her eyes open, such imaginings were impossible. Straight ahead, just before the mesa’s edge curved west, a Voloth ground pounder loomed over the road in menacing stillness. Three more were positioned at the southwest, northwest, and northeast corners.
“They look better in Alsean colors,” she said, breaking the silence. “But I cannot stop seeing them for what they were.”
“I know. I hate them, too. And these aren’t the only ones here. They’re just the visible ones.” Lhyn swept her hand outward, indicating the carpet of trees below. “Andira said there are twenty more hidden away in there. This base is the most well-protected location on Alsea right now.”
For good reason, Lanaril knew. Not only was their head of government here, but their secret and strongest weapon as well.
Divine tyrees, a weapon. It was anathema to her. She and Andira had argued about it, first good-naturedly, then with increasing depth of feeling until they agreed to leave the topic off the table. They valued their friendship too much to continue down a path that could only lead to damage.
Of all people, Alejandra Wells had been the one to help her see it in a different light.
“When we make a vaccine,” she had said in one of their sessions, “we take a virus, modify it, and use it to our advantage. We take the most frightening, dangerous parts of life and turn them into a blessing.”
“Yet this is precisely the opposite,” Lanaril had insisted. “Taking the most beautiful blessing of Fahla and turning it into a dangerous weapon.”
“No, no. Salomen is the healer modifying the virus. The virus is the lie the Voloth Empire tells its military. If she can take the power of that lie away from them . . .”
“I would never have thought of it in those terms.”
“That’s because you see the world in terms of its creator. I see it in terms of universal building blocks.”
Lanaril gazed up at the motionless ground pounder. The base of its blocky platform hung twenty paces above the ground, and the platform was at least two stories thick. It was an enormous, terrifying weapon, yet all she could think was, This is a virus we modified.
“Rax is in that one,” Lhyn said.
“He’s here? I thought he would be in New Haven, keeping his people calm.” She had grown to respect Rax Sestak, a quiet, unassuming man despite his role as leader of the Voloth Empire settlers. His pursuit of templar studies had earned the regard of many, and his protection of Salomen had earned the timeless gratitude of many more.
“Andira wanted him here in case she needs him in negotiations. In the meantime, he’s acting as a consultant and backup weapons specialist.”
Lanaril turned to look at her.
“I know, it surprised me, too.” Lhyn was still watching the immense machine. “I’d have thought that would be his worst nightmare, acting against his own people again. He said his people are here.”
There was immense depth of meaning in that simple statement.
“How things have changed,” Lanaril said.
Lhyn tilted her head back, looking up toward the battle they could not see. “Not enough.”
At the next cross path, they turned inward, winding past the administrative building and between barracks until they ended at a grassy quadrangle. The quad was the heart of the base, used for exercises, trainings, and games in the mornings and evenings. In the afternoons, it became a park where base residents ate midmeal and sprawled in the sun for a well-earned rest.
There were no shouts or chanted cadences this morning. Hundreds of warriors ringed the grassy verge, watching the group at its center. As Lanaril and Lhyn approached, the nearest Guards shifted aside to let them through.
The divine tyrees were sitting, standing, and lying beneath a large awning stretched across a temporary frame. It was not solid fabric but a screen, allowing for a clear line of sight to the skies above while providing shelter from what would soon be intense summer sun. At one side of the shaded area, Corozen Micah presided over a table heaped with equipment, supplies, and refreshments. Head Guardian Gehrain was with him, responsible for ensuring the safety of the tyrees. Fianna had reported his extreme disappointment at being denied the chance for glory that she and Ronlin enjoyed, but his rank dictated his responsibility.
What she had not said, but Lanaril understood, was that she and Ronlin were more expendable.
Learning of Fianna’s role in this battle had been one of the worst moments of her life. For all her concerns about being courted by a warrior, the thought that her best friend would send her lover to die had not crossed her mind.
She had avoided Andira for five days, furious, heartbroken, and afraid of what she migh
t say. On the sixth day, she had entered her study for the first appointment of the morning and found Andira waiting inside. With her front down and her emotions bared, Andira made it clear that Fianna was anything but expendable.
“It doesn’t help,” Lanaril murmured as they trod the close-cropped grass.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing important.” Seeking a diversion, she added, “I never imagined seeing Salomen in a combat vest.”
“Me either. But she looks great in it, doesn’t she?”
“And that’s something else I never imagined. If you’re hoping to keep that relationship a secret, I advise you to never talk about Salomen around high empaths. Or mid empaths.”
Lhyn stopped short. “You know.”
“How can that surprise you?”
“You never said anything!”
“I was being polite.” Glad to have something else to focus on, Lanaril faced her. “I thought you would tell me eventually.”
Guilt filled the air as Lhyn kicked at a small seedhead. It exploded, tiny seeds dancing on the morning breeze as they drifted south.
“I wanted to.” She looked up, meeting Lanaril’s eyes with less remorse and more determination. “But it’s still new. It changes practically every day. We’re still trying to understand what we can do with it.”
“What you can do with it? It’s a tyree bond, Lhyn. Not a tool you can take apart to understand how it fits together.”
Lhyn pointed to the divine tyrees. “That’s a tool. And a weapon.”
“Unfortunately. I mourn that it should be so, and hope the need will never come again. Nor do I believe this is what Fahla had in mind when she bestowed her gift.”
“Do you think it’s always a gift? Even if ours isn’t, um, traditional?”
“By traditional, I assume you mean limited to two?”
She nodded.
“No templar worth their training would draw such simple lines. We are complex beings who carry the spark of Fahla within us, and Fahla is more complex than we can fathom. If your bond connects all four of you, it is not for anyone else to dictate whether it’s acceptable.”
Silently, Lhyn touched her hand, allowing the full impact of her relief and gratitude. “It doesn’t connect all four of us,” she said. “Well, it does, but it doesn’t.”
“I feel quite illuminated.”
Amusement sparkled around her. “That was pretty nebulous, wasn’t it? I mean, I love all three of them, but in different ways. Ekatya is mine in a way Salomen will never be, just as I’m hers in a way Andira will never be. But Salomen and I share things that Ekatya and I don’t.”
“And Andira?”
“The kind of friend I never imagined having. My chosen family. Not my lover.”
“Intriguing.” It was even more complex than she had thought.
“Salomen and Ekatya have the same sort of connection. No physical attraction, but a friendship so deep you’d think they grew up together.” Lhyn was warming to her topic. “For me, Ekatya is fire and heat and passion. A love that challenges and changes me. Salomen is comfort and peace. She’s a friendship that ignited, but where Ekatya is flames, Salomen is coals. A different, calmer kind of heat.”
“Salomen is not coals around Andira. They’re flames together.”
“Right! All of these bonds are distinct, with their own characteristics and strengths. We call it a six-pointed bond. When we all Share together, we call it the seventh star.” She drew a circle in the air, then stabbed her finger at an imaginary point near its top. “From the Shield of Alsea. The divine spark.”
“Great Mother. The spark that healed you.”
“I think it changed our brains. It didn’t just heal me, it made structural changes in all of us. When we—” She stopped, brightening as she looked past Lanaril’s shoulder. “Salomen. How are you feeling?”
“Terrified.” Salomen came to a stop beside them and lifted both hands, greeting Lhyn first and then Lanaril. “Well met, Lanaril. Andira is hip deep in war council talks, but she asked that I apologize for her. She would have arranged for you to be here had she realized you wished it.”
“I didn’t know I wished it. Not until Lhyn came to find me.”
“She has a way of seeing things we don’t.” Though Salomen’s front was up, a sonsales could read the look she bestowed on Lhyn.
“I cannot believe any of you thought you could keep this a secret. For the love of Fahla, you may as well print signs and wear them.”
The smile dropped. “What have you two been talking about?”
“Lanaril’s perspicacity. She says you’re a flame with Andira. Which you are.”
“Are you speaking of the group Sharing?”
“No,” Lanaril said. “You keep much behind your front, but love sits upon your face for anyone with eyes to see. And Lhyn has no front at all.”
Though startled, Salomen recovered with admirable speed. “No, she doesn’t. Neither does Ekatya. We knew it would come out at some point, but there hasn’t been time to worry about the political repercussions.” With a sigh, she added, “I haven’t wanted to think about yet another relationship being opened for public consumption.”
“Two relationships,” Lhyn corrected.
Salomen waved a hand in agreement.
“As a Lead Templar being courted by Vellmar the Blade, I certainly understand that,” Lanaril said wryly. “I wish I could say it’s no one else’s concern. Unfortunately for that hope, you’re the Bondlancer.”
“I’m all too aware. I don’t give a flying fanten what anyone thinks of me, but I do care what they think of Andira.”
As if called by her name, Andira separated herself from the group and jogged over. “Lanaril, well met,” she said rapidly, offering a double palm touch. She was proud, worried, and intensely focused as she turned to Lhyn. “Micah will bring out your combat vest and one for Lanaril. He’ll also reiterate what I’m telling you right now: at the first sign of danger, you’ll both be taken down to the war room.”
“Andira—”
“This is not a discussion.” She seemed to hear the tone of her voice and spoke more gently. “Even if you were willing to risk your own life, you brought Lanaril here. You’re responsible for her.”
“Is that why you suggested—you sneaky little shit!”
“Lhyn.” Salomen set a comforting hand on her shoulder. “If the worst happens, Ekatya cannot lose all three of us. You know that.”
“And if I lose all three of you? How am I supposed to live with that?”
Only now did Lanaril realize that Lhyn’s acceptance, seemingly the product of experience, was in fact a thin veneer—and one that was rapidly disintegrating.
“The same way I might have to,” she said. “You told me that waiting was the hardest thing in the universe. I came here with you because you’re right, it is. So we will wait together. We’ll face what comes together.”
Lhyn looked skyward and shook her head, then faced Andira with a sizzling glare. “You’d better come through this intact, because I’ve got a few things to say about that manipulative dokshin you just laid on me.” The glare crumbled when she reached out. “Please be safe.”
Andira caught her hands and held them. “We’re not a likely target. You know me, planning for all contingencies.”
“I know.” Lhyn’s reddened eyes were the only outward sign of her fear. As she let go and reached for Salomen, Andira touched a finger to her earcuff and turned, giving them privacy while listening to whoever was currently demanding her attention. Lanaril had no such distraction, nor any excuse to leave.
“The whole idea of falling in love with a producer was that I wouldn’t have to do this,” Lhyn said, clasping their hands together.
“The whole idea?” Salomen’s smile was soft. “I must have been mistaken.”
“There may have been a few other tiny inducements. Very minor. Almost undetectable.”
“Then I’m fortunate you’re so skilled at see
ing patterns and assembling the full picture.”
“Do you know what I see in that full picture? The bravest shekking woman I know. You’re not a warrior, but you’re fighting. You’re afraid, but you’re fighting.”
“You already had your fight.” Salomen slid one hand along Lhyn’s jaw. “And proved your courage. Let me go into this knowing one of us is safe, yes?”
“This is so unfair,” Lhyn grumbled. “You’re as bad as Andira. You just make it sound nicer.”
“That might be the first time I’ve been accused of sounding nice rather than the opposite. Andira is right, we’re low risk here. If the Voloth do send fighters this way, they’ll target Blacksun, not the base. Injury or death is not what I fear.”
“You won’t fail.”
“From your lips to Fahla’s ears.”
“She won’t fail.” Andira had rejoined them. “The Phoenix reported in. Ekatya took out two more ships. A destroyer and a heavy cruiser.”
“Yes!” Lhyn chopped her hand through the air. “That’s my Ekatya!”
“That’s the good news,” Andira continued. “The bad news is she scared them enough to run. They’re on their way here. Ekatya’s ships are harassing them every step of the way, but she says it’s unlikely they’ll get any kills in a running battle.”
“Three against five.” Salomen’s lips compressed into a thin line. “We were hoping for better odds by the time they reached Alsea.”
“It doesn’t change the plan, tyrina. In fact, we have an advantage now. We know which one is their flagship. We know exactly where you should go.”
7
Swarm
“What the Hades are they doing? I can’t figure this out. There’s a big piece missing.”
Candini and Rahel were keeping station at their assigned location next to the space elevator cable, the lead fighter in a flight of four. Theirs was the lowest orbital position, close to a point of strategic concern: the port platform that anchored the cable. Whitemoon was also at risk, as a major population center nearby, but it was being guarded by a separate squadron flying in the lower atmosphere. Additional squadrons were supporting the original fleets of transports around Blacksun, Whitesun, and Redmoon.
Alsea Rising: The Seventh Star (Chronicles of Alsea Book 10) Page 3
