Renegade

by Justine Davis

  He had to look away. He could not function, could not deal with the reality of her at the same time as what she had given him. If this was truly what Ziemites felt all the time, he wondered that any still walked. And yet . . . he had never felt more alive. More now than when he’d first regained his feet, more even than when he’d first realized she truly had healed him completely.

  He realized the twins were gathering the things they had brought. Except that as Lux picked up the pack, Nyx held out the stone to him. He took it and slipped it into a pocket. They had, he realized, known instinctively what he would wish to keep.

  For a long moment the two just looked at him. Then Lux began it.

  “You are not—”

  “Like them—”

  “You are—”

  “Like us—”

  “And you—”

  “Should be—”

  “With us.”

  His glance flicked to Iolana. “I bow to the wisdom of my children,” she said quietly.

  “You believe I should . . . turn traitor?”

  “It is only treason if you would be betraying what you truly believe. Not what they have forced you to think.”

  He quoted the mantra almost instinctively. “We brook neither rebellion nor failure. There is no way but the Coalition way, all else is treason. The penalty for treason is death, be it an individual or an entire planet.”

  “Is this truly what you believe?” she asked softly.

  “It is . . . all I have,” he said, hating the way that sounded, hating more that it was true.

  “Not any longer. You have us.”

  He sucked in a deep, harsh breath. Held her gaze as he asked, “Does that ‘us’ include . . . you?”

  She didn’t flinch or look away. “I am as surprised—and fascinated—as you are at . . . what happened here today. So yes, Caze, it does.”

  And then they were gone, fading into the mist just as they had seemingly materialized out of it. He stood there for a long time, stunned all over again at how hard he had to fight not to follow.

  Chapter 51

  “SHE SAID—”

  “We should—”

  “Thank you for—”

  “Letting us—”

  “Go. So—”

  “Thank you.”

  The twins chorused the last, and Iolana saw Drake’s mouth twitch. Then her son looked at her. “It went well?”

  “Yes. I think . . . he is closer than I dared hope.”

  Drake lifted a brow at her. “You know how impossible that seems.”

  “But have you not always sensed he is different?”

  “Yes.” He looked back at the twins. “As did they.”

  They both smiled proudly as she said, “And so they told him,” she said, and explained what they’d said.

  Drake’s gaze shot back to her face. “And what was his reaction?”

  She couldn’t find the words for a moment, but it didn’t matter because the twins stepped in.

  “He wanted to know—”

  “If being with us—”

  “Would include—”

  “Our mother.”

  And again she felt that joy flood her at the simple acknowledgment of her status with them. And she saw in her son’s eyes that he’d recognized the huge step the twins had taken.

  “We think—”

  “He wants—”

  “To kiss her—”

  “Again.”

  They said it lightly, casually, but she flushed anyway. And such is the price for their acknowledgment.

  She was embarrassed enough that it took her a moment to realize that Drake was looking at her not with surprise, but with the expression of one who has had a suspicion confirmed. Kye, she supposed. She was not one to hide things from her mate, nor would Iolana ask her to. And in fact it made this easier.

  “I believe Eirlys could use your help in the sanctuary,” he said to the twins. “Enish Eck’s snake is acting rather sickly.”

  They darted out without another word. And Iolana braced herself for an explanation she was not sure she could give, for she was not sure she understood it all herself.

  “Leave it to you,” Drake said dryly, “to choose the most complicated man in the quadrant.”

  “It seems to be my wont,” she said with a sigh. She hesitated, for this was her—and Torstan’s—son. “You know no one will ever hold the part of my heart I gave to your father.”

  “I know that you loved him so much that you very nearly followed him into death.” He reached out, put a hand on her shoulder. “I am glad you did not. But it was long ago, in both time and . . . history.”

  “Indeed.”

  “What you feel for him . . . does he feel it for you?”

  “I think he is yet too stunned to fully realize what he feels. For feeling anything at all is a new experience for him.”

  “And so he leaps into the most complicated feeling of all,” Drake said in that same wry tone. “With the most complicated woman on Ziem.”

  She had not thought of it in quite that way—she was still a little stunned herself—and her embarrassment faded and she smiled.

  “It seems very like him, does it not?”

  “Yes,” Drake said. But then he became very serious, and she knew it was the Raider who spoke next. “Do you truly believe he will turn? Will this unbalance the scales enough?”

  She knew he did not mean to be callous. It was simply that the Raider had no choice but to look at things, even things like this, in a tactical manner. So she considered her words carefully before she spoke.

  “I would not be so vain as to think I alone could change a lifetime of conditioning. But he was already well upon this path, I think, before we ever actually met.” She looked steadily at this man she had borne. “And I think the Raider began the process years ago.”

  Drake smiled, clearly pleased at her words, but said only, “He has never had to walk among the people he conquered before. I think he only needed that to see the truth about his masters.”

  “And I would not call them his masters any longer. I sensed today that in his mind, he is almost completely separated from them.” She smiled widely. “And I think we must thank the twins for that in large part.”

  “They have ever fascinated him.” Drake gave her a questioning look. “Does he now believe what you told him?”

  “Yes. He found enough of his kind of proof to believe.”

  “Then he knows you did not lie.”

  “Yes.”

  Drake was silent for a moment before saying, his voice quiet, “If he does not make the decision we hope for, and this ends badly for him . . . what will you do?”

  “I do not know,” she said, holding her son’s gaze, “but I do know what I will not do. The top of Halfhead will not be seeing me again, unless it is to fight.”

  Drake let out a clearly relieved breath. And Iolana Davorin marveled again at the nature of her people—and her children—that even her most foolish of actions could be forgiven.

  PALEDAN CALCULATED the time in his mind as he went, decided he would be better served to return directly to his office than try to make it to the landing zone; whatever official contingent had been sent—for whatever unexpected reason—would have gone before he arrived.

  He would have to come up with some reason he had not yet sent the report on the damaged cannon emplacements, for if they had taken the normal flight path they would have passed right over the one in the worst shape. Then again, the mist was thicker there, and they might not have been able to see at all.

  Or might have been so consumed by their own glory they didn’t notice.

  He grimaced at his thought as he hurried—glorying with every step he took without pai
n—back to the compound. Which itself looked much better than it had; most of the debris had been cleared away, and the fragments of wall knocked down so that it almost looked like a whole building again, albeit a smaller one.

  When he reached the back door he’d left through, the sentry snapped to attention and saluted. Paledan threw him one back but kept going. It wasn’t until he reached the hallway where his office was situated that things changed. The two sentries normally stationed at each end of the hall passed him at a run, casting rather wild, terrified glances at him as they ran.

  An unaccustomed jab of . . . something went through him. He quickly de­cided he would deal with that later; right now the High Command troops lined up outside his door were of more concern. Well-trained—or conditioned by Coalition harshness—those troopers never even looked at him as he passed, just stood with weapons at the ready, as if they were expecting an attack.

  Another strange jab. He realized he should have asked Lana to explain what all these . . . emotions were before he had so blithely asked her for them.

  He reached the doorway to his office. He felt the lingering crackle in the air that told him a blaster had been fired. He turned into the anteroom outside his door. Brakely was not at his desk, but next to it stood General Fidez and two flanking troopers. Fidez was holstering his own sidearm.

  The general turned to look at him. There was an expression on his face Paledan could not put a name to, but it turned his stomach.

  “Paledan,” Fidez said flatly.

  No rank. Not a hint of a salute, or even a nod. “General,” he said neutrally.

  “You will be returning to High Command with me.”

  Paledan managed not to react, but it was an effort. Much more than it would have taken before. Because now he was rebelling inside. He did not want to leave this mist-shrouded place. Which told him just how far he’d fallen under the spell of Ziem.

  And her Spirit.

  He waited, the general’s expression telling him he would not be adding a new medal to the collection.

  Fidez broke first. “You have obviously lost control here, Paledan. I see that you were correct when you said you were not suited to an administrative post. Or perhaps it is this accursed place, and this bedamned mist has adversely affected you. Either way, you have much to answer for.”

  So. It was to be execution. His gut roiled. Less than a moon’s cycle ago he would have almost welcomed that. But now . . .

  “Not the least of which,” Fidez said, “is the blatant audacity of your aide. Were you aware he actually had the impudence to search Coalition records? To call up files outside his purview? And had no excuse for it? Refused to speak of it, even when given a direct order? From me!”

  Paledan felt a sudden chill ripple down his spine. Remembered that unmistakable tingle he’d felt before he’d even stepped through the doorway. And the image of Fidez holstering his weapon played back in his head.

  “What have you done?” he asked, his voice harsh.

  Even as he asked it, he took a stride forward. To where he could see behind Brakely’s desk. Could see the sprawled, lifeless figure on the floor.

  The man who had been his right hand had proven his loyalty.

  Unto death.

  Chapter 52

  IOLANA FELT THE burst of sensation as if it had originated within herself. She gave a little gasp, and both Eirlys and Brander turned to look at her. They were in the sanctuary for the animals which was, to Eirlys’s great satisfaction, nearly empty at the moment.

  “What is it?” Eirlys asked.

  “Something has happened,” she said, barely aware of how tremulous her voice sounded.

  “What?” Brander asked.

  “I do not know, I—” She put fingers to her head, trying to sort it out.

  “Have they done something?” Eirlys asked anxiously. “That ship with the High Command symbol that arrived?”

  Iolana shook her head in negation. “I only know he . . . Caze . . . is enraged.”

  Brander looked at her curiously. “He has seemed ever controlled.”

  She lifted her gaze to them then. “When we parted, he . . . asked for more. Of the emotions I had given him before.”

  “So,” Eirlys said slowly, “what would not have enraged him before could now?”

  “I think it is beyond even that. This is so . . . fierce, I think he would have felt a form of it even without.”

  “Drake will want to know of this,” Brander said. “And I think a trek to Zelos would be wise, to see what I can find out.”

  Iolana sensed Eirlys’s tension as they went to the main cavern and Drake’s quarters, but her daughter said nothing. She knew Brander had the most freedom to move about the city, but that didn’t mean she had to like it when he ventured there.

  They had just explained when Kade burst into the room. This alone was unusual enough that they all fell silent, looking at the usually diffident boy. Young man, Iolana corrected her own thought, for no one stayed young long when locked in a battle for the life of your very world.

  “They’re everywhere! Coalition troopers, a hundred of them must have come in on that High Command ship!”

  Drake, who had been leaning against the map table, straightened. Kade had been on watch at the high lookout. “Everywhere?”

  “They’re at the compound, and the landing zone, of course, but they must have brought a fleet of rovers with them. They’re at the old ruins, and some are going beyond that up the Sentinel, others up the Brother, and I saw some headed for Highridge.”

  “What could have happened?” Eirlys said, looking from her mate to her brother.

  Drake looked at Iolana. “I think it too coincidental to believe this has noth­ing to do with what you sensed from Paledan.”

  “Agreed,” she said. “And his anger is growing, not abating.”

  “I did not see him,” Kade said. “But there is more. The river, they have boats, and they’re going both directions from the port.”

  Drake went impossibly still. “Both directions?”

  Kade nodded. “I hope they go all the way and go over the falls.”

  “I pray they do not,” Drake said grimly, “for the twins are there.”

  Iolana gasped. “At the falls?”

  Her son nodded. “They wished to see if they could find a bigger secret stone.” And then, his voice softer, he added, “For you.”

  Emotion roiled within her. That this gesture of acceptance from her two youngest should put them in danger . . .

  “They have Runner,” Brander said, referring to the graybird messenger who adored him and would fly to him no matter where he was. “It was the only way we would allow them to range so far, even if the Coalition never ventures there.”

  “But they might not have had a chance to free her, if the Coalition came upon them unexpectedly,” Eirlys said, sounding beyond troubled.

  “I’ll go get them,” Brander said, turning to go at once.

  “Then I’m with you,” Eirlys said instantly.

  Drake started to protest, but Brander cut him off. “You cannot, Drake. I know it is your instinct, but we need a quiet reconnaissance first, and you can hardly do that. You would be shot on sight.”

  “He is right,” Iolana said. “I will go with them.” The ache in her heart was growing. That the twins had gone to get something for her, after she had merely mentioned the secret stones were one of her favorite things, tore at her.

  “If we have to go after them in force, I may need you,” Drake said to her reluctantly.

  She was silent for a long moment as a battle of sorts waged within her, the need to go to the twins, who had at last accepted her as their own, with the bigger knowledge that her particular skills might in fact help save them were the worst to happen. She saw in her son’s
Ziem-blue eyes that this was the kind of battle he had been waging for years.

  And, she thought in sudden realization, it was a variation on the inner battle Caze was fighting now.

  “I may be able to help avoid that need,” she said. “I will take the Stone of Ziem with me.”

  They all knew how the legendary stone magnified her powers. Drake let out a long breath, but finally nodded. “Eirlys, take one of your other birds.”

  She nodded. “We’ll send word if we can.”

  “You have flares, in case you cannot?” Drake asked. Brander nodded. Drake looked at his second for a long moment. “You may not be able to hold your façade through this.”

  “So be it,” Brander said. “I won’t miss it.”

  Drake nodded, and Iolana knew no one understood better than Drake the cost of maintaining a false front in a dangerous world.

  “I will ready a force, then,” Drake said. “In case it is needed.”

  Iolana felt compelled to say then, “The major is as close as he has ever been to breaking. He may have already. That may be what I sensed.”

  Drake glanced at Brander, who nodded. But it was Eirlys who said softly, “We will not hurt him, unless he gives us no choice.”

  As they left, Iolana wondered if all the Sentinels knew what the foolish Spirit had done, that she had fallen for the enemy.

  THE HIGH COUNCIL wishes to hear your explanation.

  Fidez’s words echoed in Paledan’s head, and caused a sour, inward laugh that echoed the sour feeling in his stomach.

  He had, he realized, chosen the worst possible time to ask Lana to gift him—or curse him—with more of those emotions she’d said he already had the capacity for. Emotions that men, like the four escorting him, had had stomped out of them. For he had never felt such fury, and every thought of Marl Brakely’s fate prodded it higher.