Panther features grew hazy. Paws and claws melted into the sleek and slippery form of a snake. Whispered hissing grew louder as its scaled length slid around his body in a tight coil. Air exploded from his lungs. The snake’s triangular, blue-black head swung around in front of his face. Its forked tongue, red as fresh-let blood, flicked in and out, tasting the flesh of his cheeks. The head darted closer. His eyes cleaved it in two—two snakes hovering, hissing, two tongues flicking, four eyes boring straight though his mind.
The Pentharian shifted again, gold eyes still locked onto his. The tattooed face so close was as startling as the snake’s had been. A shudder quaked through his body. Struggling to recover some semblance of self-discipline, he focused on the black obsidian nose ring that fit so neatly into Voer’s nostrils.
The Pentharian stepped back and looked steadily down at him. “Do we have an understanding?”
Another shudder rattled along his spine. “I can tell you nothing, or I will die a traitor at the hand of my commander. Better I die at your hand and be considered a hero.”
Almiralyn appeared in the doorway.
Voer joined her. “He is well trained. I can break him, but torture is not my style. Nor do I believe it is yours.”
Their exchange brought with it a sense of relief. He sat up straighter, aware that his death would come another time.
Myrrh’s guardian crossed the stall. “What is your name and rank?”
“Grantese Tesilend,” he responded without hesitating.
“Grantese Tesilend, since you refuse to give us information of your own free will, I will need to do a mind probe. If you fight or try to hide what I need, it will be painful. If you remain calm, you will only feel a slight tingling.” She placed her hands on either side of his head.
Rigid and resistant, he tried to pull away.
Strong tattooed hands clamped him to the chair. Struggling to conceal his thoughts, he fought against the probe. Pain stabbed through his brain. Unbidden tears spilled down his cheeks.
“Don’t fight me, Grantese,” The Guardian’s voice, firm but gentle, continued. “You cannot resist for long. But if you try, you will suffer more pain than you ever imagined possible. And it will linger unabated for many turnings.”
Her fingers pressed again into his temples. His brain writhed like a trapped cobra. He gasped. Darkness swallowed him.
17
ConDra’s Fire
DerTah
I n the late afternoon shade that crept down the side of the dune, Brie looked at the expectant faces of her friends. Closing her eyes, she cast her senses outwards. Four men drew nearer with each second. How can we avoid discovery? Her agile mind flipped through various plans, rejecting each as impractical or improbable or just plain unworkable. I wish Esán were here. We could simply disappear. Heightened awareness informed her that the Sebborr were over half way up the far side of the dune. What will slow them down? Her eyes flew open.
A silhouetted rider appeared atop the ridge of red sand. Sharp, dark eyes bored into hers.
Ira’s fingers dug into her shoulder. “What now?”
Nichook fell to her knees. “Please, ConDria. Please, no let them catch us.”
A second rider materialized, dark and threatening against the orange sky. Torgin groaned and pressed closer.
Sidestepping their mounts in a diagonal down the red DerTahan dune, the Sebborr advanced toward them.
Nichi knew only fear. Stories of the Sebborr swirled through her mind. They raped. They murdered. The prisoners they chose to take with them were rarely seen again. Those few who managed to escape told heartrending stories of their tortured lives as Sebborr slaves.
Behind her, she heard the bellow of a rohes. Falling to her knees at Brie’s feet, she prayed to the ancient spirits of her people, asking them to support and inspire the ConDria.
In the quiet of his room at Shu Chenaro, Esán studied the map of Fera Finnero and then read the book’s description. Impatience nagged at him. Something he could not quite grasp made him uneasy. Who killed Gidtuss’ Fire ConDra? Why does Wolloh want me to find out? I’m sure he already knows .
A commotion in the hall scattered his thoughts. Running feet and a knock on his door made him grimace. Can’t I get just a few minutes of peace around here? Shoving the book and maps under his bed, he marched to the door and yanked it open. Seval stood poised to repeat his knock.
“What now?” Esán placed fisted hands on his hips and glared.
Seval dropped his hand and cringed as though he’d been hit. “I came to warn you Wolloh’s important guest arrived in the city of Inev on the Plains of DoOlb yesterday. He will be here with his escort in a very short time.”
Esán forced himself to appear relaxed. “Who is this guest, Seval? Do you know?”
The boy paled. His mouth opened as though he were about to speak, then clapped shut. Confusion and fear flitted over his face. “I can’t remember. I thought I…I’m sorry, master…Esán. So sorry…” Sagging under the weight of whatever tormented his spirit, he pivoted and scurried away.
Esán leaned against the closed door. I must remember to be gentle. I have no desire to add to his trauma. This admonition carried him back to his bed. What happened to Seval? Why is he fine one moment and terrified the next?
Seval and his problems faded as he smoothed the map out on the bed. Tracing and retracing it in his mind, he memorized every detail until he had total recall. Satisfied, he prepared to begin a systematic search of the grand Desert od DerTah.
Okay, who did the deed? Who destroyed a Fire ConDra? Who? He slipped into a meditative state and let his senses explore. Teeming with life, the desert saturated his consciousness with rolling dunes, sun-soaked sky, and more life than he had imagined possible. Fascinated by its beauty and its hidden variety, he absorbed every aspect.
Heady with detail, he began to withdraw his attention. His breath caught in his throat. What the—? The beat of his heart echoed through his ear canal, threatening to destroy his ability to concentrate. Disciplining his mind, he refocused.
By the Fathers of Thera!
Nomed sipped a glass of sweet wine and listened to the conversation at the luncheon table in Wolloh’s private dining room. The excellent midday repast calmed his agitation. Across from him, the officer who had so rudely interrupted their lives appeared to be mesmerized by TheLise. Her voice, hypnotic and sensual, wrapped around him, unraveling his defenses one by one.
From his place at the head of the table, Wolloh observed, an amused smile tugging at the full-lipped side of his mouth. His eye, however, shone cold and calculating in the warm light cast by a single chandelier.
Stebben appeared at the door.
Wolloh pushed his chair back from the table. “Please excuse me. I will return in due course.”
Nomed noted the drag of his crippled leg was barely a hindrance as he moved, unhurried, to join his Major Domo. TheLise caught his eye before turning back to Granier, who couldn’t seem to decide whether to watch Wolloh disappear down the hall or to keep his eyes on the beautiful Dreelas.
Nomed relaxed and let his inner mind focus on his mentor while giving the appearance of being present in the dining room. He tensed. Speculation and calculation replaced his benign thoughts. Wolloh’s important guest has arrived on DerTah. Soon I will meet one of the most powerful men in the Inner Universe. More speculation… Why this sudden, unplanned visit to DerTah and to Wolloh?
“Seyes, come back from wherever you are and join us.” Although TheLise smiled, her gold-flecked eyes held a question and a reprimand.
He returned her smile, his gaze shifting to Granier. “And how long do you plan to remain in DerTah?”
Suspicion replaced the enamored expression on the officer’s face. “As long as it takes.” An implied threat laced his tone.
Nomed kept his smile in place, ignoring TheLise’s warning glance. “As long as it takes to do what?”
Granier lunged to his feet. “I think it is time I rej
oin my men.” Back ramrod straight, he marched from the room. His boots pounded a distinct and threatening rhythm on the tiled floor.
Slate gray eyes caressed his face. “All my work ruined, Seyes,” TheLise teased. She glided to the double doors at the opposite end of the room. “Will you ever learn to be patient?”
He relaxed back in his chair, enjoying the supple sway of her body and his heightened response to her beauty.
She adjusted the blind and peeked out at the bright, desert sun. “I miss the sound of the sea and the feel of the damp wind in my face.” The blind clattered back into place. Unhurried, she retraced her steps and looked down at him.
He noted with a connoisseur’s appreciation how the dark waves of her hair capped her well-shaped head and accentuated her large, luminous eyes. “How long do you think you’ll stay at Shu Chenaro?”
“I’m most anxious to return to Trinuge, but…” The arch of her eyebrows spoke volumes. “And you, my dearest Seyes, how long will you stay? Esán’s training will take some time.”
“A good question. One I don’t have an answer for.” His gaze roamed the length of the hall. “Do you think Wolloh will return?”
TheLise ran a finger across his shoulders as she passed behind him on her way to the door. “I think he has much to do. Come. The other Dreelum plot and plan. Shall we see what we can discover?”
He laughed and joined her. “They are rather obvious, aren’t they?”
As they approached Wolloh’s office, Stebben appeared and held open the door. “He would like you to join him.”
“Thank you, Stebben.” TheLise sailed past him.
“So much for plots and plans,” Nomed murmured and followed.
Conscious of Ira and Torgin beside her and Nichi whimpering at her feet, Brie watched the progress of the Sebborr on their odd rohes. Two more had topped the dune and followed their comrades’ diagonal trek down its red sandy side.
The rohes, a cross between the camels of Old Earth that she’d read about in Almiralyn’s library and a regular horse, ambled in a controlled skid done the steep angle of the dune. Long-necked and limber-legged, they moved with an awkward grace she found mesmerizing. As they drew closer, she could discern extra long lashes screening their slightly bulbous eyes. Wide nostrils at the end of an elongated, horsish face snorted repeatedly, filling the air with a noisy, nasal chorus. Their long, narrow tails swished back and forth. She found them delightful and would have smiled had the situation been different.
Her gaze switched to the Sebborr, who wore kcalos the color of night. Secured by an intricate woven band, the draped folds of their shoulder-length headdresses left only their eyes visible—dark eyes that seemed to hold her and her friends prisoner already.
Each carried a sword, at least one knife in his belt, and another tucked in the top of a boot. What could she possibly do against such savage fighters? If only I understood, how I became a Water ConDra before.
The lead Sebborr arrived at the base of the dune. His eyes raked across her face before moving on to Ira and Torgin. He appeared unaware of, or simply uninterested in, Nichi. Reining in his rohes, he waited, relaxed and menacing, while his comrades formed a tight circle around them.
Ira’s grip on her shoulder tightened. Torgin’s fear scented the air around her. At her feet, Nichook pulled her kcalo over her head and curled into a small ball of trembling terror.
Brie kept her eyes fastened on the Sebborr leader. No fear showed in her face, although the careful probing of his thoughts made her heart creep into her throat. Keeping her gaze steady, she formulated a call for help in her mind. With the force of a hurricane, she blew it out over the dunes. Sand, whirling into eddies, lifted into the air. Wind whipped it higher and sent it swirling up to surround them. Another silent message brought an audible answer. The shriek of a Fire ConDra shook the dunes.
Torgin groaned but stayed at her side. Ira’s steady hand on her shoulder sent a wave of confidence through her. Nichi’s frightened eyes peeked from beneath her kcalo, widened at the sight of the Sebborr, and disappeared.
Rohes scrambled, stomping and snorting their terror, while their riders fought for control. Only the Sebborr leader’s mount remained unaffected. Atop its back, the man’s menacing gaze fastened onto hers. Throwing his headdress back from his face, he drew his sword. Silver and flashing in the sunlight, it hovered above her head.
She scrutinized his features—the brown, pockmarked skin; the cruel line of his mouth; the narrow hooked nose; and the dark, merciless eyes that snapped at her from beneath a bridge of shaggy brows. Nothing in this rugged countenance indicated generosity or kindness, only a deep and ruthless intent. Relief shot through her when a shrill shriek, announcing the imminent arrival of the Fire ConDra, allowed her to look away.
Wings stretched wide, it sailed above the horizon and cast a sudden shadow over the top of a neighboring dune. Shrieking again, it swooped toward them.
The Sebborr leader tensed. The tapered point of his sword came to rest against her throat. Its sharp tip cut the top tie on her kcalo. Desert-hot blood oozed from a skin deep, zigzag that ran from the ‘V’ at the base of her throat to the place on her sternum where her heart thumped against the bone. He slammed the sword back into its scabbard.
Leaning out of his saddle, he grabbed her chin between hard, calloused fingers. “You wear my mark, ConDria. You belong to me.” A malicious laugh scorched her face. Wheeling his rohes, he called to his comrades, “Fly from the fire of death!” They galloped away over the dunes—kcalos whipping in the wind and sand flying in their wake.
Intense relief cooled her cheeks and dulled the sting from the shallow cut on her chest. Above her the ConDra beat its fiery wings against the desert heat. Sparks igniting around it like fireworks, it followed the Sebborr until they vanished amid the rolling, red dunes. Making a wide arc, it blazed back in their direction.
The Dansgirl lifted trust-filled eyes to her face.
Brie fumbled under her kcalo for the blue Remembering Stone and prayed she had not brought death to them all.
18
ConDra’s Fire
Myrrh & Thera
M errilea paused to resettle her pack. Above her, the tumbled chaos of precariously balanced boulders formed a risky ladder to safety. One misstep …she forced negative thoughts from her mind and peered up at the entrance. At least it gives us a bit of light . Her fingers scurried over the broken edge of a large, flat stone in search of a secure handhold. Its surface, less moist and mossy than lower down, indicated they now climbed above the falls. Verifying that it would support her weight, she wedged her toe in a narrow crevice and followed Sparrow’s unerring ascent, glad for her company and her courage.
With a jolt she realized Sparrow’s dim figure had come to a halt. Dark eyes gave her a fleeting look and flashed back to the entrance. Sidestepping left, the twins’ mother pointed at a spot beside her. Merrilea scrambled onto the large boulder. Again, Sparrow’s eyes grabbed hers and darted up the rockslide.
A flash of light near the crack-like entrance made her duck lower. Sparrow went rigid beside her. Murmuring voices, more flashing lights…Merrilea pulled her to kneeling. Small stones bounced their way downward.
“We have to hide,” she whispered next to Sparrow’s ear. Searching the dim rockiness, she discovered a gap between two larger boulders.
More light and more voices—a body blocked the cave entrance. Booted feet appeared. A dull thud indicated the arrival of a soldier above them.
She edged her way closer to the opening and peered into the gap. Another dull thud warned her that more soldiers joined the hunt. With no other option presenting itself, she pulled Sparrow after her into the crevice.
At the soldiers’ camp, One Man bided his time. The ropes at his wrists hung limp, ready to be sloughed off when the right moment arose. He waited. Time stretched out and bent back on itself in his mind.
A picture of Tianna, his life-mate and Esán’s mother, formed. His heart throbbe
d with the love and the longing that filled him. Thera’s atmosphere, so different from her home planet of Tao Spirian, had forced her to transition soon after the birth of their son. Before she left, she had made him promise to go to Myrrh and to leave Esán on Thera with Merrilea, her blood-bonded Myrrhinian sister. Honoring the promise had almost killed him. His memories of those early weeks in Myrrh still brought an ache of blurred emotions. Thanks to Almiralyn, he had survived. It had been a near thing. Tao Spirians could die of a broken heart…and his heart had shattered with Tianna’s untimely return home and almost ceased to beat when he left Esán in his sister-in-law’s care.
The time he had spent living as a hermit in Timreh Pass in the Dojanack Mountains had allowed the gifts of the Seed of Carsilem, his Tao Spirian birth gift, to mature unhindered and unnoticed. Wind in the trees and whispering grasses had soothed his soul and salved his sorrow. Fifteen sun cycles passed. The Time of Quickening was complete. His restlessness began and his destiny called. The Unfolding on Myrrh summoned him back to the world of men. Until the completion of its cycle, he would fight to protect the last vestige of Old Earth; to keep Esán, the VarTerel Royale of his people, alive; and to assure that Almiralyn’s successor as Guardian of Myrrh survived to rule. Only then would he be free to join Tianna on the distant planet of their fathers.
Shuffling feet and rough voices outside the tent alerted him to the return of his captors. He dropped his chin to his chest. Soft snores, like a lullaby, floated into the night.
Almiralyn left Grantese Tesilend in Voer’s care and walked briskly from the barn. Shafts of sunlight shot through the trees of the Terces Wood, splashing patches of light in random fashion over tree trunks and branches and diffusing, for the moment, the deep shadows of late afternoon. Love for Myrrh, its forests and plains, its spectacular Intersect, and its mountains and caverns, washed over her in an overwhelming rush. The parallel between the setting sun and The Unfolding of Myrrh was not lost on her. She could only hope that, like the sun, Myrrh would rise in its fullness once again.
The UnFolding Collection Two Page 14
