Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3)

by Fletcher DeLancey

  Tal probably knew all about it. He wished she were awake to handle this delicate moment.

  “We’re never without a Protectorate ship close by,” he said. “If we had to call in help, it would be here sooner than you could be. And I really don’t think we’ll need the assistance, though I’m grateful for the offer.” There, that sounded like something Tal would say.

  “You do have a closer ship,” she agreed. “But not one with the resources of the Phoenix. And not one with a captain who understands Alsean culture and knows when to help and when to let you take the lead.”

  “Captain Serrado—”

  “Why don’t you want me there? She’s my friend. And I can see exactly how worried you are about her.”

  He sighed and reached up to scratch the back of his neck, then swore when the gel glove touched his skin. He was never going to get used to these damned things. “I didn’t tell you everything. It’s really her story to tell.”

  “Well, she doesn’t seem capable of it right now. And I only have this call. Personal quantum com time is a limited resource, especially when it’s being routed through this many base space relays.”

  Serrado could stare a hole through a person when she wanted to. No wonder she and Tal had become friends so quickly.

  Micah gave up. “The woman she saved last night—Salomen Opah—she and Tal are tyrees.”

  “Andira found her tyree?” A warm smile transformed her face. “In the producer who challenged her?”

  He chuckled. “I don’t think Salomen will ever stop challenging her.”

  “That’s wonderful news, Colonel. I’m thrilled for her. But it doesn’t explain why you don’t want me there.”

  “They’ve been bonded for less than one day,” he said, hoping desperately that she would understand.

  She tilted her head with a slight frown. “What terrible timing. But I’m not a threat, if that’s what you’re worried about. A tyree bond can’t be broken from the outside.”

  Now that was strange, hearing an alien lecture him on Fahla’s gift.

  “No, it cannot. But Tal is…a special case. This isn’t her first tyree bond.” He hoped Tal would forgive him. “Her first one was with you.”

  Serrado stared at him, speechless. At last she cleared her throat and said, “You need to explain that.”

  “I know about her Sharings with you and Lhyn.” As the mask fell over her face, he added, “She had no intention of telling me. I forced her into it, because she was…not doing well. Captain, what she did with you was unprecedented. And very dangerous, because neither you nor Lhyn had any way to control the power of your bond. Every time Tal linked you, some of it spilled over into her brain. When you left, it was…well, you severed a partial tyree bond. In truth, she should have been under the care of a healer. But she was stubborn and never told a soul until I gave her no other option.”

  Serrado closed her eyes and shook her head. “Damn her. Why didn’t she—?” She stopped and exhaled softly. “Never mind, I already know the answer to that question. Is she all right now? I mean, regarding that?”

  “Yes. It took several moons, but she recovered.”

  “Colonel Micah, I know this comes too late, but if I’d had any idea—”

  “I know. So does she. Though I think she would have done it even if she had known the risk.”

  “She probably would have. So…you’re saying I’m a threat after all.”

  “Salomen only consented to their bond last night. Two ticks after they Shared, Tal passed out on top of her from the pain and shock. Since then, Tal has either been unconscious, or awake but sonsales because of the drugs they’re giving her. Their bond is so new it hardly even qualifies as a bond yet. And it’s Salomen’s brother we’re looking for. This is a very delicate situation.”

  Serrado’s shoulders went back. “I see. Then I’ll stay out of it for now. But I meant it when I said the Protectorate wants Andira in the State Chair. If you can’t resolve this threat internally, you’re going to see me whether I ask for it or not. I’ll run interference as long as I can, but my influence only goes so far. And I’ll be Shipper-damned if anyone gets sent there other than me.” Her posture softened. “But more importantly, if something happens to her and I could have prevented it, then neither you nor I are going to be able to live with ourselves.”

  He nodded in perfect understanding. “From one warrior to another, Captain, I swear I’ll keep her safe.”

  “I hope you’re bringing in reinforcements to bolster that oath.”

  “I am.” In more ways than she realized.

  “Good. Tell her to call me as soon as she can. I’ll arrange for a priority call status.”

  “It will probably be several days.”

  “As soon as she can,” she repeated.

  They ended the call a few ticks later, leaving Micah looking at a pad that he had no way of deactivating. He turned to the bed, where Tal lay immobile and nearly invisible beneath her pile of gel packs.

  “Between your friend and your tyree, you are never again going to hold the upper hand,” he told her. “But I’ll enjoy watching you try.”

  CHAPTER 4:

  Restriction

  Tal slept through the media announcement and most of the first day, and when she woke up, she met Healer Tornell.

  Blacksun’s premiere burn specialist was an older woman whose stature made Tal look like a giant. She had hands like the wings of fairy flies and the voice of Fahla herself. She also had the most intractable, overbearing personality that Tal had ever come across.

  At the first opportunity, Tal told her that she would no longer be taking the paincounters, and Tornell informed her that she might be Lancer outside the dome of the healing center, but inside she was just another patient and would be best advised to leave the healing to the experts. When Tal stated that she would rather be uncomfortable than empathically blind, Tornell suggested that she hadn’t a dokker’s idea of what discomfort meant in this situation. Tal pointed out that she most certainly did, having experienced a rather high level of it recently, and Tornell noted that the result of that particular experience had been unconsciousness, at which point she was empathically blind anyway, so what was the difference?

  Tal greeted her next visit as a personal challenge, but fared no better.

  The third time she summoned all her powers of intimidation—which were admittedly limited given her position on the restriction bed—and Tornell merely seemed amused.

  But at the end of the second day, Tornell did indeed take her off the paincounters, so Tal felt that a victory had been achieved. The fact that her recovery had progressed to the point where the paincounters were no longer absolutely necessary did not diminish her achievement.

  She spent the third day feeling as if an entire swarm of biting flies was walking around on her back, occasionally sinking their barbed mouthparts into her flesh. Tornell explained that this was the result of the accelerated healing process, and if she thought that was bad, she should wait for the itching, which would begin the next day.

  She was not exaggerating. On the fourth day, Tal would have scratched all the new skin off her back if she could have reached it. Micah sat in the room with her, gritting his teeth over his itching hands, and they commiserated about unsympathetic and arrogant healers who smiled at their complaints and said the itching was a good sign.

  “How can anything that feels this bad be good?” Micah held his gel-gloved hands under his armpits.

  “I think they mean in the same way that our parents told us that fanten brains were good for us,” Tal said.

  “Ugh. I hate fanten brains. It doesn’t matter how they’re cooked, they’re still disgusting.”

  “I know. But they were right, the brains are good for us.”

  “I prefer to get my vita
mins from a different source, thank you.”

  “At least you get to sit in a chair,” Tal pointed out. “I’m still flat on my face.”

  “Not quite flat.”

  Which was true. When Tornell had taken Tal off the paincounters, she had also changed the thick gel packs for the thinner, lightweight versions that could be easily strapped in place. With the new packs strapped on, the restriction bed could be raised into an angled position. Now Tal was upright enough to look straight out through the head support and see visitors in their chairs, a vast improvement over her earlier prone position. She could also rotate the bed at will, enabling her to take the full weight off her front by shifting the bed to different angles. Steep angles required that her arms and legs be cuffed to the bed, a concept she found untenable, so she contented herself with shallower angles and frequent changes. But she couldn’t move, not with the skin still growing, and was intensely envious of Micah’s freedom.

  “By the way, I’m still angry at you,” she said for at least the fifth time. “You should have woken me up.”

  “I couldn’t have woken you if I’d tried,” he said with damnable patience. “You were drugged out of your mind. We had a perfectly nice conversation, all of which you know about.”

  “I only talk to her once a moon! You took my call!”

  “And she told you to call her back as soon as you could. You seem perfectly coherent now. Why don’t you call her?”

  She grumbled under her breath.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “I don’t want Ekatya to see me like this. And you know it. So stop smiling.” She had sent a message saying she was all right and promising to call when she felt better, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t irritated with Micah for his high-handedness in telling Ekatya to stay away.

  “Are you certain they took you off the anti-infection agent? Your emotions still seem a bit volatile.”

  “You try lying in this bed for four shekking days and see how volatile you feel!”

  She stopped, having just sensed Salomen leaving the restaurant she had gone to for midmeal. An unbidden smile on her face set Micah chuckling.

  “No emotional control whatsoever. Just from that expression I can guess that Salomen is on her way back. Really, she’s here so much that I’m not sure what you’ve accomplished by not moving into a family unit. At least then she could have slept in the room with you.”

  “I wish we could have, but suspicion is one thing. Overt proof is another. I won’t advertise her status until her Guards are ready.”

  “You might remember that I did tell you to wait.”

  “Mitigating circumstances.” Tal’s smile grew larger as she felt Salomen’s anticipation of seeing her.

  “It must be amazing to sense her from so far away,” Micah said wistfully.

  “It’s the most incredible, glorious thing, and I have no idea why I was ever afraid of it. Truly a gift from the Goddess—all the richness of her emotions as if she were right here in this room.”

  “No more doubts about sharing every emotion? I still have a difficult time imagining that.”

  “I know. I thought I would feel naked as a newborn. But Salomen and I had been dropping our fronts with each other for some time already. I don’t think I’ve raised mine with her since the speaking tour. So the only thing this has changed is that I can’t raise it again, but the truth is I wouldn’t want to. It would hurt her, and I’d be equally hurt if she shut me out. We were afraid of being pushed into a place that we had already walked into under our own power. We were just too panicked to realize where we were standing.”

  He gave her an approving smile. “Romance really has hit you over the head. I wasn’t sure I’d live to see the day, but it was worth the wait.”

  “Really, Micah, you shouldn’t be living vicariously. You should be out finding your own romance. I did offer to help, if you’ll recall. You refused, and look what happened. A whole cycle of nothing.”

  “I don’t want your advice. You do it all backward. For Fahla’s sake, you’re fully bonded and you still haven’t joined. Does Salomen even know what you look like?”

  “Well, I’ve been half-naked for the last four days…”

  “Doesn’t count. All she sees is gel packs.”

  “But I hear they’re very attractive gel packs.”

  They were both laughing when the door slid open to admit Healer Tornell.

  “I see you’re feeling better,” she said, walking over to unstrap Tal’s gel packs. “I’ll take that as a testament to our skill in the face of opposition from the patient.”

  “Take it as a testament to friendship. Micah has been at least as beneficial as these packs. And he irritates me far less.”

  “Not for lack of trying,” Micah said.

  “Being irritating is clearly a trait that warriors aspire to. I’ve treated enough to speak from experience.” Tornell gently removed the packs, dropping them into a sterilizing and recharging unit before beginning her examination. “This is looking good,” she said with satisfaction. “You’re healing well. Barring anything unexpected, your skin will be established enough for movement tomorrow. Gentle movement,” she added sternly.

  “Meaning I can leave?”

  Micah smirked at Tal’s hopeful tone.

  “Meaning you will no longer be gracing us with your presence, yes. And we will miss your sparkling personality.” Tornell moved down and lifted the small pads covering the leg burns. “Excellent. These no longer need pads. Another few doses of salve and that should be it.” She pulled a small jar from a drawer and began applying the salve with a touch so gentle that it lulled Tal into a state of relaxation.

  “That actually feels good,” she said.

  “Imagine that. It is possible to feel good in a healing center.”

  Tal was saved from a response by Salomen’s approach. She looked toward the door, a rush of happiness flowing through her as her tyree walked in. “Hello,” she said, barely managing not to call her tyrina in front of Tornell. “So I was right, yes?”

  “You know you were.” Salomen sat in the chair by Micah. “Corsine himself should visit that restaurant. It was sublime. There were too many things on the menu that I wanted to try and not enough space in my stomach.”

  “Perhaps we can go back tomorrow.”

  “You’re being released, then?”

  “More like thrown out.”

  Tornell had an impeccable front—a necessity for a high-level healer—but Tal thought she could detect amusement. “We shall be sorry to see you leave, Raiz Opah. You’ve been the voice of reason. I wish you good fortune in your bond with Lancer Tal.”

  They looked at each other in dismay.

  “Is it that obvious?” Salomen asked.

  Tornell chuckled as she began applying new gel packs. “Not empathically, no. You both have excellent fronts, and I’m not even going to ask how a producer has a front like that. But a nonranking producer is not normally among those with free access to the Lancer—especially one who has spoken so publicly against her policies. You’ve been in this room so often that I wondered why you didn’t request a family unit.”

  “Because we need to keep it a secret,” Tal said. “At least for now.” She felt the tap on her shoulder and raised her torso enough to allow the straps to be passed beneath her.

  “Rest assured it will never be revealed by anyone in this center.” Tornell tightened the straps and tapped the shoulder again. As Tal settled herself, the healer moved around to stand in front of Salomen and Micah. Even seated, they were as tall as she was. “And how are your legs, Raiz Opah?”

  “I can barely even see where I was burned anymore,” Salomen said. “I stopped applying the salve today.”

  “Good. Smaller burns are so much easier to heal. I
was certain we could take care of you quickly.”

  When Salomen had revealed her own burns two days earlier, Tal had nearly gone through the roof. After all her effort to protect her tyree, she had failed? It took Salomen some time to calm her down, pointing out that total protection would have required Tal to balance entirely atop her once she had rolled them over.

  Salomen pulled up the loose cloth of her pants, exposing her legs to Tornell’s inspection. From her vantage point on the bed, Tal couldn’t see so much as a blemish. That helped, but not enough.

  Tornell straightened. “They’re beautiful. You won’t be able to find any sign of them in another few days.”

  “Thanks to you.” Salomen tugged her pants legs down. “I appreciate the care you’ve given all of us, Healer Tornell. But in defense of my bondmate, I must tell you I’m not the only voice of reason here. Lancer Tal is a good deal more reasonable than you think. It’s just…difficult for her to be so restricted in her movements.”

  “It’s difficult for anyone to be restricted. Most people manage it without assuming they know a healer’s art.”

  “I never said I knew the healer’s art,” Tal said. “I only said I knew what was best for my own healing.”

  “That is the same thing.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  “Of course it is.”

  Salomen looked at Micah. “Do they always argue over who rules the playground?”

  He nodded as Tornell strode regally to the door.

  “There is no argument because there is no question,” she said, opening the door. “The ruler of this playground has been well established.”

  Salomen chuckled as the door shut behind her. “I do believe you’ve met your match, Andira. You are Lancer of nothing in here.” She sobered. “But her skill has no match either. I cannot believe you will be walking only five days after the damage I saw.”