Nexus Point

by Jaleta Clegg

  Chapter 13

  I jerked out of a light sleep peopled with snarling bald men. A small brown creature nipped my finger. I jumped, snatching my hand clear. The creature darted into a bush, chittering angrily. Blood welled slowly from the tiny bite.

  The sky glowed lavender. All but a few stars had faded into dawn light. I shivered in the chilly air, taking stock of my situation. Dirt smeared the once white blouse. The delicate embroidery hung in uneven loops. Dead leaves crunched in my hair. I was barefoot and without supplies.

  I was thoroughly lost. But I was still alive.

  Gold light crept over the hills as I stumbled aimlessly. Moving kept me warm. I splashed into a bare trickle of water. I crouched down, scooping up a handful. It tasted of moss.

  I eyed the bush next to me. Most worlds grew an abundance of edible plants. I hadn't taken that survival course, though. With my luck, the first bush I tasted would poison me.

  Something hit me in the back, knocking me flat. I squished into wet moss. Water seeped into my clothes. I heaved, trying to dislodge whatever it was.

  It was someone who knew about fighting. I was pinned, despite my struggling.

  "Congratulations, Dysun," a cultured voice spoke in Basic, "you've found a woman. She is not what we're looking for. Please put her back where you found her."

  The man rolled me onto my back. He pinned my arms to either side, his hands digging my wrists into the moss. He planted his knee firmly on my belly.

  A scar writhed across his cheek. His eyes were russet, match to his long hair. He shoved my hands farther into the moss. I winced.

  "She doesn't belong here." Dysun kept his grip firm.

  "Let her go. I'm positive she isn't involved. Dysun, put her back. We aren't here to collect women."

  I wondered just how much trouble I'd be in if they knew I wasn't native. The risk might get me killed, but it might improve my situation. Anything beat aimless wandering. "Yes, Dysun," I said in Basic, "let me go."

  Dysun's eyes widened. His grip on my wrists tightened. A second face appeared over his shoulder.

  This man was older, his hair streaked with silver. A tiny mustache curled across his upper lip. His shocking blue eyes gave him an innocent look.

  "She's trouble, Blake." Dysun shifted his wiry frame. His knee jabbed into my belly.

  "Are you?" Blake opened his blue eyes wide.

  Dysun glared. "They sent her to look for us. They had to have. No one was supposed to know we were here."

  "Well then, kill her, but don't make a mess of it." Blake's face moved away. "And do please hurry. We're already far behind schedule."

  Dysun leaned lower, his face an inch from mine. "I like killing women." A hint of uncertainty flickered across his face. He may have known how to fight, but I doubted he had ever deliberately killed anyone.

  I got my knee up. He sprawled into the moss beyond my head. I jumped to my feet and waited for him to charge. He didn't disappoint. I threw him again, rolling him over my shoulder. He grunted as he landed flat on his back. He rose to his feet, wheezing.

  He feinted. I dodged. We circled, water squelching under our feet. He swung. I ducked under his arm, shoving him with one elbow. He scrambled to keep his feet as his boots slid out from under him. He landed face down on the moss, swearing a blue streak.

  Blake planted his hands on his slender hips. "Enough, children. Really, Dysun. Perhaps it would be best if we didn't kill her. She might even be of some use." He cocked his head and studied me with his bright blue eyes.

  Dysun brushed at the wet streaks of green on his sleeves. His look promised he'd get even. He deliberately turned his back, squishing his way out of the water.

  "Ricard Blake." The older gentleman held his hand out, smiling politely. His impeccably white shirt glowed in the morning sunlight.

  I wiped slime off my hand, then took his gingerly.

  "Your name, miss?"

  "Dace."

  "Charmed." Ricard Blake bowed over my grimy hand. He let go, casually pulling a cloth from his pocket with his other hand. He wiped his hand clean. "My associate with the atrocious manners is Dysun Farr." Blake tucked the cloth into his pocket. "Dace is an odd name, can't say I've ever heard it before. Are you from these parts?"

  "Dadilan? No. And you?" If I could keep them talking, maybe I could convince Dysun not to try killing me.

  "Heavens, no, we're not from this primitive world. We're here seeking the Fountain of Youth. Do you know of it?" Blake had steel in his deceptively innocent eyes.

  Lying might get me killed. "Never heard of it."

  Dysun Farr opened a pack, pulling out several self-heating cans of food. I wondered if Blake would consent to feed me or if I'd have to fight Dysun for it.

  Blake's smile gained even more wattage. His white teeth glinted. "My life's quest. I've spent decades gathering legends and hints. I've read books older than the Empire." He leaned close. "They led me to this world. The Elixir of Eternal Youth is here." He rocked on his heels, smiling proudly. "I traced the legend of Ponce Delyon here, to this lost colony. He taught them the secret."

  "Elixir of Eternal Youth?" My skepticism ran too deep to mask. Who would want to be young forever? Being young took a lot of work.

  "A drug the monks make can keep one young forever, yes." Blake's smile was blinding.

  "Shara?" I hazarded a guess.

  The smile disappeared, replaced by a wrinkled frown. "That detestable concoction? Heavens, no. The monks only make that to keep the population under control. Their true secret is eternal youth. There are stories of monks living more than a thousand years. I've come to beg them to teach me the secret, to initiate me into their order if necessary."

  Dysun snorted.

  Blake sighed theatrically. "Don't be such a cretin, Dysun. He thinks I'm wasting my time. I can't seem to find the monastery. Do you perhaps know its location? The map I purchased appears to be rather vague about directions."

  I took his comment as invitation. I found a rock near Dysun and the food.

  Blake unrolled a brown sheet of paper that smelled of mildew. He laid it across my lap. "Perhaps you'll have better luck. See this?" His finger traced a wavy line on the map. "Follow the River of the Moon to the clearing where the satyrs dance. I've looked and looked but haven't found anything that would be the River of the Moon. And I doubt satyrs are native."

  I tapped the squiggles on the paper, frowning and pretending I understood. My stomach growled.

  "Oh, my apologies." Blake jumped to his feet. "Here I am forgetting my manners. Do forgive me, I get so caught up in my pursuit I forget others have needs. Please, you must be famished."

  He pulled the moldering paper away, then froze, mouth open in shock, when he saw my bare feet.

  "Oh, my dear, whatever happened to your shoes?" He looked at me, really looked, for the first time. "Are you lost? Dysun, fetch my spare pair of boots. I'm certain they are about your size, although your feet are so dainty, they must surely be too large."

  It was my turn to have my mouth hang open. I didn't care if his feet were twice as big. He offered me boots.

  Dysun dug through the pack, pulling out a pair of boots and a can of food. He dropped them on the ground next to me, then turned away, dismissing me entirely.

  I wiped slime from my feet, then slipped them into the boots, sighing with pleasure. I had boots again.

  Blake patted my shoulder, shuddering delicately as he watched. "No need to return the boots. Just keep them, my dear."

  I popped open the can, then wolfed the food down, half afraid I imagined Blake and Dysun, the food, and the boots, that if I blinked they'd be gone.

  Dysun shot furtive glares at me while he ate breakfast. I suspected he feared I'd steal his place in Blake's affection. Dysun finished, chucking his can into a bush.

  "We should be moving." Blake spread his map on a rock. "I have a feeling we are close, very close indeed. Somewhere that direction, I believe." He pointed, then frowned. "No, that can't be r
ight. Perhaps you would look at the map. You do have some familiarity with the area."

  Every direction looked the same, but I didn't have to let him know. Blake had food. He gave me boots. I would pretend if it kept me alive and fed. I leaned over the faded map, running my finger along a jagged line.

  "I do believe you're right!" Blake bounced on his toes. "Yes, that does resemble the ridge we've been following. You know, Dysun, I believe I've had this thing upside down. Thank you ever so much, my dear." He beamed as he carefully rolled the map.

  Dysun rolled his eyes as he shrugged the pack onto his shoulders.

  "Yes, I can see the shape there." Blake bounded up the gentle hill into the trees along its crest.

  Dysun hiked after him. He glanced back. "If you don't hurry, you'll lose track of him. He's more than half mountain goat. And more than half crazy," he added in a mutter.

  I scrambled after Dysun, catching him as he crested the low hill. Blake stood halfway down the far side, studying an outcropping of gray rock. He waved excitedly before dashing away in a new direction.

  "How did you do that?" Dysun asked suspiciously as he followed Blake.

  "Do what?"

  "Find the satyr." He jerked his head towards the outcrop of rock.

  I shrugged. Dysun increased the pace. I marched behind him. Having boots was pure luxury. Nothing jabbed my feet. I deliberately crunched rocks, smiling at the lack of pain.

  Blake paused in the center of a meadow. He turned, surveying the surrounding area. Dysun rested in the shade of a tree, hitching the pack higher on his shoulders.

  "There!" Blake pointed to a rise of hills not far off. "Those have to be the Mountains of Eternal Mist!" He took off at a very fast trot.

  Dysun followed, picking up his pace to keep Blake in sight. I hurried after him.

  The row of hills didn't look like mountains to me, eternally misty or otherwise. Ricard Blake loped towards them, waving impatiently. His face glowed as he scurried over the first hill.

  We followed him for over an hour as he scampered up one hill and down the next. Dysun muttered curses every step of the way.

  Blake darted into a grove of prickly trees growing close beside a rocky ridge. Dropped leaves choked out any other growth, muffling our footsteps. Dysun slowed, following the trail of scuffed ground Blake left.

  "Here! I've found it!" Blake's voice drifted to us, echoed by a squawk of bird calls.

  "What did he find?" I asked.

  "Another rock, probably," Dysun said.

  We came out of the trees. A deep cut in the rocky ridge led back into a shallow cave. Water dripped and trickled across the rocks. Ferns nodded in the dampness. Blake popped out of a hole, halfway up the cliff face.

  "It's here!" He disappeared into the cave.

  Dysun dropped the pack, then settled onto a rock. He leaned back, closing his eyes. "He'll be up there for a while. You may as well get comfortable. Unless you want to try following him."

  I sat down on another rock. The chill of stone crept through my skirt. I stayed on the rock. I wasn't about to lose my meal ticket by looking for a sunnier spot to wait.

  Time passed. Birds squawked in the trees. Water dripped. A breeze drifted through and died. I shifted my feet. Dysun popped one eye open.

  "You recognized my name." I kicked a pebble. "Where did you hear it?"

  He grinned lazily. "I saw it in a report. When your ship exploded it made me curious. I knew I'd heard your name before. Captain Dace of the Star's Grace. Clever of you to blow up your ship on purpose like that."

  "How do you know about my ship?"

  "I picked up the explosion on my scans. Rather a nice diversion. Thanks for that. It made slipping in here that much easier."

  "You aren't authorized to be here, are you?"

  He shrugged. "That depends on who's doing the authorizing. Ricard Blake is quite good at paying people to look the other way. He has more money than the Emperor. And about as much sense," he added as Ricard Blake came into view on top of the jagged cliff.

  We both watched as Blake crawled his way into another cave.

  "What is Blake really doing here?" From Blake's reaction earlier, I doubted he was part of the shara smuggling ring. That reminded me of Tayvis. How would I get off Dadilan without him? I eyed Dysun Farr. If I could worm my way in close enough to Blake, maybe he'd keep me with him.

  "Like he said earlier, he's on a quest to find the fountain of youth." Dysun watched Blake pop out of the cave again to dig through a growth of ferns.

  "How did you get here? Where's your ship?"

  "Which question do you want me to answer?" Dysun relaxed against the rock. "And how much are you going to pay me? I don't give out anything for free."

  Blake climbed on an extremely narrow ledge that dripped moss and ferns. He looked like a spider as he climbed up the face of the rock.

  "Idiot. I hope he doesn't fall and break his neck."

  "You care?" I doubted very much Dysun cared about anything except himself.

  "He dies and I won't get paid the rest of my fee."

  "That explains why you're helping him."

  "He's paying me a very nice sum. Enough to keep my ship flying. Repairs are expensive, as I'm sure you know." He grinned, a nasty showing of teeth. "Although I doubt even the best shipyard could fix your ship now."

  I turned away. I wanted to smack him, to beat him until all the pent up frustration and anger was satiated. I didn't because he carried the food.

  "Did I hurt your feelings? I am so sorry. Looks like Blake hasn't found what he wanted here." Dysun stood, swinging the pack onto his back.

  I thought about tripping him but decided against it.

  Blake emerged from the rock cave, shaking his head. Even though he'd been climbing around on slimy rocks, his shirt still shone spotlessly white. He shook out his cuffs, flicking dust off one. "This is part of the mystery, I'm certain of it. There is a trail of sorts above the cliff. Perhaps it was made by the monks as they procured the ingredients for their elixir. I felt something in the cave, some force I cannot explain. This might be the source of the mystical waters the text spoke of."

  The look Dysun shot me said Blake was totally nuts. Dysun showed nothing but blank good humor when Blake turned to him.

  Blake tapped his chin with one finger. "We should follow the trail."

  "Lead on," Dysun said.

  "Right." Blake clapped his hands decisively. He circled around the cliff, finding an easier way to the top.

  Dysun fell in behind him. I followed.

  Blake was confident the narrow dirt track would lead us to the monastery. I didn't care where it led. Dysun and Blake had food and a way off planet.