Whatever it was bothering him, he was disinclined to talk about it. They pushed on, wrapped in tense silence. Kiran urged the aquestan to more speed than it was inclined to, but it required a concentrated effort to keep the beast moving at that speed. When Kiran pushed, it would lope along a little faster for a while and then move a little slower and a little slower until it had regained the speed it seemed to prefer. In fits and starts like that they progressed closer and closer to their destination.
Tempest felt the tension coil tighter and tighter inside of her the closer they came, a mixture of anxiety for the unknown destiny they faced and worry that they would be too late to meet their destiny. The sun had long since dropped behind the summit before they neared the foot of the sacred mountain. Gradually, as it sank toward the horizon, the light diminished and the sky above them darkened. The first, bright stars had winked into view in the darkening sky before they reached the foot of the sacred mountain and discovered the path that snaked upward from the floor of the desert toward the summit.
Kiran brought the aquestan to a halt, tipping his head back and studying the mountain through narrowed eyes. “The ascent seems gradual enough we should be able to ride the aquestan for a while, yet,” he said finally.
Tempest looked at the narrow trail a little doubtfully, not particularly enthused with the idea. She realized, though, that they were rapidly running out of time. The aquestan could move far faster than they could on foot. She nodded jerkily instead of answering.
As if he sensed her fear, Kiran’s arm tightened around her reassuringly as he guided the beast to the trail and onto it to start their ascent. Tempest’s belly cinched a little tighter.
After a time, Kiran spoke a little hesitantly. “If the fates allow, I would do my best to build a stone house for you like those the star children built.”
Tempest felt her heart contract almost painfully. A good part of it was his mention of the fates, the first he’d voiced the doubts clamoring inside of her. She twisted her head and glanced at him in surprise. “Why would you do that?”
His gaze flickered over her face almost caressingly. “To bring joy to your heart once more, like that you feel when you speak of that place and the people. When you look upon those of your own kind.”
She knew he was referring to the time when she’d seen the other survivors in the encampment. She remembered that he’d placed himself between them, blocking her view, and a little flutter of something unidentifiable went through her. Hope?
“I do not know the things that you know, but I am willing to learn.”
Tempest wrestled with the doubt and hope warring inside of her, trying to convince herself he wasn’t just saying this because he thought, feared, there would never be a chance that any of it would come to pass. “You would do all of this just to make me happy?”
Something flickered in his eyes. “Yes.”
“Why?”
He swallowed a little convulsively. Even in the shadows Tempest could see his complexion darken with discomfort. “I… uh.…”
Twisting on the saddle, she lifted a finger and began to trace swirls with her fingertip over his chest. “What does Zheri Cha mean?”
Kiran flushed darkly, but frowned, obviously trying to figure out how to translate, clearly distracted by the movement of her finger. He covered her hand with his own, trapping it. “Difficult one.”
Tempest sat back. “Difficult one?” she echoed, dismayed. “As in, pest?”
A faint smile curled his lips. “Cherished one?”
He was teasing. Tempest didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, because she couldn’t decide if he was teasing, but meant it, or if he was just trying to annoy her.
Irritation won out. Snatching her hand away, she twisted around again, putting her back to him.
An arm slipped around her waist, pulling her back against him. Leaning down, he began to whisper in her ear, words that were unfamiliar to her, words of his own language. “I suppose that means I’m nothing but trouble,” Tempest said irritably when he stopped.
“It means, I do not know pretty words in your language.”
Tempest tried to turn to look at him, but he held her snugly.
“I ache with emptiness when you are not near me. I cannot think. Sadness fills me. Stay with me, Tempest. Do not leave me. I will be your people.”
Tempest sniffed, but despite all of her efforts, tears gathered in her eyes and began to run down her cheeks. Kiran stiffened, tugging her around so that he could look at her, touching the tears on her cheeks. “You do not want this?”
Sniffing, Tempest slipped her arms around his waist. “It’s all I ever wanted from the first … for you to want me.”
He stroked her soothingly. “I did want you. I wanted you from the beginning.”
“You left me,” she pointed out.
He sighed. “Because I believed it was the right thing to do, not because I wanted to.”
“I love you,” Tempest said. “Whether it was the prophesy, or fate, or just pure luck, I’m so glad you happened along to find me.”
Kiran’s arms tightened around her. She heard swallow again. “This … love. This means you will stay with me?”
Tempest pressed a kiss to his chest. “It means everything you said to me before--I want you. I need you. I’m lost without you.”
He captured her face in his hand and urged her to look up at him. He met her half way, kissing her deeply. “I love you, little grat.”
Dragging in a shuddering breath, Tempest leaned against him, feeling her heart swelling with joy. He loved her! She’d hadn’t imagined he cared for her.
“You aren’t just saying that because … because you think you’re duty bound to pair with me?”
His squeezed her. “I said it because I know in my heart that you are the one destined for me.”
Chapter Sixteen
For a few moments, Tempest was lost in the soaring sense of joy. Gradually, doubts began to torment her again, though. “You think … you don’t think the fates will allow, do you?”
He was silent for so long she thought he wouldn’t answer. “I do not know what will happen any more than you do. I do know that I will do all that is within my power to see to it that you are safe, that we come safely through this.” He dipped his head to nuzzle her neck. “Do not believe even for one moment, Zheri Cha, that I did not mean every word I spoke to you. If I were not a great fool, I would have given you the words in my heart long since. I was … afraid that you meant to chose another, too proud to say what was in my heart for fear that you would fling them in my face.
“But then I realized I might have no other time to say them to you. I will do what I must, what my duty compels me to do, but I do not want to take the chance that I might leave this world without telling you.”
Tempest felt like crying. “It’ll be alright,” she choked out finally. “I know we’ll be alright.”
“I believe that we will be,” he said reassuringly.
Tempest fell silent for several moments. “You’re not going to take it back if we get out of this alive?” she asked tentatively.
He chuckled huskily. “No, Zheri Cha.”
As near as Tempest could tell the aquestan managed to carry them nearly three quarters of the way to the top before it began to struggle so mightily that it became more of a danger to try to continue riding than to dismount and finish the climb on foot. The great red moon, Talore, was peeking over the distant mountain range when they dismounted, took their packs from the beast and released it. Grasping her hand, Kiran led her up the trail as fast as they could manage. Stiff and sore from the long ride, Tempest struggled with that for a while. By the time her muscles had warmed and the stiffness had begun to ease, though, she was having trouble breathing.
Kiran, no doubt aware of her distress, paused several times to allow her to catch her breath, scanning the rocks above them worriedly and then turning to survey the rise of Talore. Tempest had begun to think her heart wo
uld give out before they reached the temple when they came at last to a great plateau very like the one they’d found at the other temple to Zoe.
Again, Kiran stopped, allowing her the chance to catch her breath while he scanned the shadowy plateau. “There,” he said at last, pointing.
Almost as if in response, Talore crested the rocks surrounding the plateau and spilled her reddish light across the clearing. Nodding, Tempest took a few gulps of water from the water skin, capped it, and slung it over her shoulder again. Kiran caught her hand as they moved quickly across the plateau and finally reached the stairs that led up to the sacred temple. There were nearly a dozen, unlike the other. Dragging in a deep breath, Tempest climbed them a little wearily.
Talore’s light spilled across the deep porch, illuminating a statue. Tempest glanced at it when they finally drew near enough to see it, then stopped dead in her tracks. Kiran halted as abruptly as she had, though, staring up at the statue with the same stunned sense of wonder on his face that she felt.
The statue was completely different than the one that had stood before the other temple except in the fact that it also depicted a woman that looked very much like her if it wasn’t her.
The man who stood behind the woman was clearly Kiran. He had his arms wrapped around her, holding her against his chest. One hand cupped hers, which was curled around her belly, clearly distended with a child.
Tempest dragged her gaze from the statue and glanced at Kiran. He met her gaze, his eyes gleaming with some emotion she couldn’t quite decipher. His expression, though, was the same that had been captured by the sculpture long ago. Love.
Tempest swallowed with an effort against the knot of emotion that rose in her throat, feeling certainty settle inside of her finally to chase the last of her doubts from her mind.
Grasping her hand, he led her swiftly to the doors to the temple. Here, the temple differed from the other temple, as well. The doors were set back into an alcove. It wasn’t until the two of them stepped together into the recessed area that they heard the click of the locking mechanism. The doors slowly swung inwardly, as if welcoming them. Lights flickered to life inside.
Kiran and Tempest shared a glance. Kiran’s hand tightened on hers and they moved inside, glancing around. There was no question of which direction to take. The room they entered was nothing more than a vast foyer. Centered in the back wall was an arch that opened onto a wide corridor. They hurried toward it, keenly aware of the passing time, anxious now to reach the end and discover what awaited them.
For her part, all of Tempest’s doubts had flown. The statue might mean nothing at all, but it said to her that the makers had seen the future … however they’d done it. They’d seen her and Kiran together, seen her big with his child. They had a future. She wasn’t going to allow doubts and fear to cloud her mind.
Lights flickered on before them as they moved along the corridor, a little faster and a little faster until they were racing when they at last saw the lights illuminate a door beneath an arch at the distant end of the corridor. Again, they had to step inside the embrasure together to deactivate the lock. The doors, instead of swinging, slid into the walls on either side. A little disconcerted, Tempest turned to glance back as they entered.
A gleaming metal door dropped from the ceiling just beyond the doors where they’d entered, sealing them in even before the second pair of doors began to close. Kiran stiffened. Tempest glanced up at him. “Blast doors,” she said a little hoarsely.
Kiran frowned questioningly.
Tempest shook her head instead of trying to explain, glancing around the room they found themselves in. A huge computer took up the entire rear of the room. It flickered to life as they moved toward it. The ghostly images of the people who’d designed and built the ‘temple’ sprang to life. One, who by his garb alone was set apart from the others, began to speak and to gesture toward the global map that appeared behind him.
Kiran’s brow creased. It was obvious to Tempest even without a knowledge of their language that he was having trouble following whatever it was the man was saying, whether because the language had changed so much in the intervening years or because the technology was completely incomprehensible to him. At last, the image disappeared and was replaced by a view of Talore, but it was Talore as she’d never seen it. A deep shadow fell across nearly half, so deep that it appeared that half of the bright globe had been bitten off.
Kiran turned to look at her. “This is now. He says this is happening now.”
Tempest felt her heart contract painfully in her chest. “The alignment!” she said breathlessly. “It’s already begun! What do we do? What does he say we must do?”
Even as Kiran gestured toward the computer, a round disk on the floor began to glow. Tempest studied it and then watched as two pillars rose up from the floor and locked into position. It clicked in her mind what it was that she was looking at—a detonator. She glanced uneasily at Kiran, but she didn’t know if he would understand even if she tried to explain and she could see she didn’t have time to try. Tightening her hold on his hand, she stepped onto the highlighted disk, stopping when she was level with the column that had risen from the floor.
There was an audible click when Kiran was in position, as well, and the lasers verified the mark burned into her hip and the one genetically implanted in Kiran. She saw uneasiness in his eyes when he looked at her and then his gaze skittered away as the humming sound around them rose. His hand tightened on hers until her bones began to feel the strain. The noise rose until it was nearly deafening. Tempest’s heartbeat seemed to keep time with it until she began to feel almost faint with the rapid pounding.
The hologram began to speak again, gesturing toward the columns beside them and then at the image of Talore. Tempest looked down at the column when she was directed to and saw that an imprint that matched the shape of her hand had been designed into the top of it.
Fear and doubt began to war inside of her. The designers believed they’d created a safe bunker for her Kiran. She knew that, but how could they know, after so many centuries especially, that it was still the haven they’d envisioned?
How could they have known any of the things they seemed to know? Was it some sort of natural gift that made it possible? Or had they developed some sort of technology that had allowed them to actually see the future of their world?
And if they had, why hadn’t they prevented what had happened?
She realized it didn’t necessarily follow that they had the technology to prevent it.
But had they had the technology to bring life back to their world?
Her attention was caught by the flickering images behind the narrator again. Almost as if they’d known the doubts that would be flickering through her mind, she saw a global map appear again, replacing the image of Talore. This time, the computer zoomed in on specific points. They flashed across the screen too quickly for her to capture anything particular about them, but then she had no idea what she should be looking for. As the image zoomed outward again, the computer simulated explosions as bright blossoms.
Tempest’s racing heart clenched painfully as understanding dawned. They were standing on a detonator that was keyed to set off a series of explosions all over the globe. Trying to close her mind to the possibility that they might start a chain reaction that would blow up the entire planet, she glanced at Kiran again.
He looked almost as pale as she felt. As if sensing her gaze, he turned to look at her, swallowing a little sickly. Abruptly, he snatched her close, dipping his head to kiss her a little feverishly as if he feared, as she did, that it might be the last time he would ever know her touch. “I love you, Tempest,” he said a little hoarsely when he’d lifted his head to stare down at her.
Tempest felt her chin wobble, but she mastered the urge to burst into tears. “I love you, Kiran.”
He tightened his arms around her briefly and released her, stepping back to the column. Feeling weak kneed, Tempest returned t
o her own.
The narrator, she saw, almost seemed to be watching them, his expression one of amused tolerance. He spoke, gesturing toward the hologram of Talore that reappeared. She could see that nothing more than a sliver remained.
Her hand trembled as she lifted it and allowed it to hover over the key pad designed just for her.
It flashed through her mind as she stared at the imprint of a hand, that it matched hers. It wasn’t just close, it matched, and then she realized—accepted—as she hadn’t before that she was the one. They had seen it all, recorded it for their descendents. They’d never intended for the people to see her as deity, but they had known that technology would be long lost to their own people before the time came when the attempt could be made to reclaim their world. Kiran had needed her. It had always been intended that she would see and understand the technology—because she was a star child, had grown up with technology that had been lost to Kiran’s people long ago—that she would be able to figure out the plan they had made so long ago.
A sense of calm descended over her. She turned to look at Kiran. “It’s alright. I understand now.”
A question flickered across his features, but he returned her smile. Some of the tension seemed to ease from him. He lifted his hand and held it above his own trigger, waiting.
“Now!” the narrator ordered abruptly, clearly in English.
Tempest jumped reflexively, but settled her hand on the control, matching her fingers and palm. Kiran did the same.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath, and then Tempest felt a vibration beneath her feet. It grew rapidly, punctuated by hard shudders she knew was from explosions. The room around them began to shake so hard that silt began to rain around them. The lights began to blink on an off like strobes.
Removing her hand when she’d set off the explosions, Tempest dove into Kiran’s arms, holding herself tightly to him. He crushed her in his embrace, glancing worriedly at the shaking walls as cracks snaked across the walls and small chunks of rock joined the rain of silt. After whipping his head around in search of a more secure place, he dragged her to the arch where they’d entered the room.
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