Tal sighed. “Why am I always keeping secrets for somebody else?”
“Because sometimes that’s what you have to do for the people you care about.”
The biggest secret of all loomed between them, unspoken.
“She thinks I’m the greatest warrior of our generation,” Tal said. “She was afraid of me in the beginning—said I had blood on my hands. And she’s never asked me for details about the Battle of Alsea. At first it was because she didn’t want me to coast on my celebrity, but then it became more of a kindness to me. Or so she said. But I wonder if she just doesn’t want to know, because she’s certainly asked me everything else.” She rubbed her forehead. “Hol-Opah is the one place on Alsea where I can forget what I had to do. What I almost had to do. I’m afraid that if I ever tell her the whole truth, she won’t feel safe anymore.”
Ekatya reached offscreen, and the sound of pouring water came through the com. She sipped at her glass with a thoughtful look, then set it off to the side and leaned forward. “If there’s one thing I wish I could go back and change, it would be my decision to obey my orders and leave Alsea. You were open with me until the moment you realized my intentions, and then you had to strategize. If I hadn’t had my head up my ass about duty and military order, you would never have had to make that choice.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’m not finished.”
Tal gestured for her to go on.
“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. And I’ve realized that one of the reasons I respect you so highly is precisely because you were willing to sacrifice not just your honor, but your Shipper-damned afterlife for the benefit of Alsea. You’re a true leader, Andira. The fact that Lhyn almost got caught in the middle of that is not your fault. It’s mine. And I hate to think what kind of person I’d be today if I had let the Voloth take Alsea and then found out it was all a scam. Bitter and angry wouldn’t begin to describe it. Not to mention alone and grieving. So when the time comes for you to tell Salomen the truth about how you saved Alsea, tell her the whole truth, not just the part that makes you look bad. Or better yet, call me first and I’ll tell her.”
“I wish I could feel you,” Tal said. It was so hard to accept mere words, without the emotional confirmation.
“If you could, you’d know I’m telling the truth.”
“I believe you here.” She tapped her temple.
“But your heart is a different story. I know how that works. Just chew on that for a while, please? You need to forgive yourself.”
Tal glanced at the clock. “I truly hate to end this, but it’s time for midmeal and I have to get back to my quarters. Salomen isn’t doing well today.”
“Because of her brother’s message?”
“Damn thing was on a two-day delay. I swear he timed it to cause the most impact.”
“Hades of a morning after, eh?”
“Great Mother, yes. I’d like to throw Herot into a deep, dark hole. What he did to me pales in comparison with what he’s done to Salomen—and to our bond. He’s tainted every single facet of it. This morning Salomen could hardly finish mornmeal, she was laughing so hard, and then his message arrived and I had to hold her while she cried.”
“Then why are you talking to me? Go take care of your tyree.”
“I’m talking to you because Micah had the distinct impression that if I didn’t, we’d find the Phoenix in orbit next nineday. And as much as I would love to see you, I don’t need that political wrinkle.”
“Well, it’s true that I live to complicate your life. But I’m reassured now, so you can tell Colonel Micah that he’s fulfilled his duty and can relax.”
Tal hesitated.
“What?”
“Micah’s not going to relax for some time, I’m afraid. Speaking of people who need to forgive themselves. But that’s for another call. I have to go.”
They said their good-byes, and Tal held the darkened pad in her hand, marveling once again that she could have a real-time conversation with someone so far away. So much had changed since the Caphenon had crashed.
Unfortunately, Alseans still had all the same failings. And one of them was hurting her tyree.
CHAPTER 17:
Picking up pieces
Tal hadn’t even touched her palm to the lock when the door opened.
“I missed you,” Salomen said.
Tal stepped inside and drew her into a warmron. “I missed you, too. But you were with me all morning.” Salomen was soft in her arms, her body draped over Tal’s in a way that bespoke mental exhaustion. “I’m sorry I had to leave you. It was damn hard feeling you hurting in here while I was in meetings out there.”
“It would have been harder for me to be in meetings, and you couldn’t possibly skip them all.” Salomen lifted her head, her face showing signs of a difficult morning. “Thank you for understanding.”
“It doesn’t require understanding. You needed time.”
Salomen dropped her head back to Tal’s shoulder, squeezed tightly, and stepped back. “So,” she said too briskly, “I want to know what it was that had you so pleased with yourself earlier.”
“When?”
“Around hantick ten, I think.”
Ah. The meeting with Razine. “Interesting that you should ask.” Tal shed her jacket on the way to the kitchen, stopping when she saw the dining table. “You already ordered midmeal?”
“Not exactly.” Salomen led her to the table and lifted the lid of a serving bowl. “It’s not in my nature to sit around doing nothing, so…I made this. The kitchen worker was somewhat startled to get an order for ingredients rather than a finished meal.”
Tal chuckled. “That’s probably an understatement.” She sniffed happily, recognizing soarfish with sweetfruit even before she saw it. “It smells fantastic. I don’t suppose you have any horten soup to go with it.”
“You’re joking. Aren’t you tired of that yet?”
“Are you serious? I’ve never had anything like the soup you fed me on our date. I’d eat it every day if I could.”
“Then I suppose it’s a good thing I had this brought from home.” Salomen lifted another lid, a satisfied smile on her face.
“I think I love you,” Tal said. “Will you bond with me?”
“Already did. Got anything else to offer?”
Tal plucked the lid out of her hand, placed it carefully on the serving bowl, and spent a good five ticks showing her what she had to offer. When she finally pulled back, Salomen’s eyes fluttered open slowly.
“I’ll take it,” she said.
Tal kissed her one more time for good measure before letting her go. “Who brought the soup?” she asked as they pulled out their chairs.
“Nikin. He called and asked if he could visit. I called Colonel Micah, and he took care of it.” She picked up a bowl and began serving the soup as Tal poured water for both of them. “We met in one of the conference rooms.”
Tal almost overfilled a cup while looking at Salomen in surprise. “Why didn’t you bring him here?”
“Because these are your quarters and I hadn’t asked you.” She put Tal’s bowl down and reached for her own, but Tal stopped her with a hand on her wrist.
“Tyrina, these are your quarters as well. Your good breeding is showing, but in this case it’s not necessary. The moment we bonded, my home became yours.”
“Is that how you feel about Hol-Opah? That you can bring anyone you want there without asking?”
“No,” she admitted. “But you cannot compare the two. Hol-Opah is as much your family’s as it is yours. My quarters are just mine.”
Salomen acknowledged the point with a nod. “Thank you. I’ll need some time before I’m comfortable with that concept, though. I don’t even know the procedure for getting access
for a guest.”
“I guess we did skip over quite a bit.”
“Such as the entire pre-bond period? Yes, we did.”
“Then the first thing we should do is put you and Aldirk in a room together. He knows absolutely everything about protocol and procedure.” Seeing that Salomen was ready to eat, Tal took a sip of the soup and closed her eyes. She felt Salomen’s amusement before hearing the laugh.
“I think I saw that same expression on your face several times last night,” Salomen observed with a lift of her eyebrow.
“Can I help it if I appreciate good food?”
“I hope not. I like that expression.” Salomen sipped her own soup. “I’m going to be sorry when this is gone. It’s never the same after it’s been vacuum stored. Anyway, I can speak with Counselor Aldirk while we’re flying out to Hol-Opah.”
“I wanted to ask you about that. Do you still want to go? Perhaps today isn’t the best day to discuss a bonding ceremony.”
“Today is a better day than ever. That’s one of the things Nikin and I talked about this morning. Our family needs something positive to focus on. Herot’s message doesn’t change that.”
“How are they doing?”
“Father is putting up a brave front, but Nikin says he’s just covering up. In a way, it was harder to know that Herot did this out of stupidity and anger than to think he did it intentionally. At least if it had been intentional, it would mean he made this mess because he actually believed in something.” Salomen stopped with her spoon halfway to her mouth, looking at Tal in alarm. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“I know.”
She nodded once. “We’re all furious that he made such a dokshin pile of his life and our name, destroyed things we can never replace, and hurt you so badly—but at the same time, we’re relieved that he’s finally snapped out of that self-pitying stage. He finally realized that he has a family, but it took losing us to get him there. And that hurts in so many ways. Especially for Father, because he feels responsible. He thinks he should have been able to break through.”
Tal was certain that Shikal wasn’t the only one feeling that way, but she knew enough not to say so. “How is Nikin doing?”
“Better than Father. He’s more angry than anything else, and it’s easier on the heart to be angry than sad. Right now he’s more concerned about the rest of us than about Herot. He says Herot planted this crop and he’ll have to harvest it, and the rest of us need to go on with living our lives. Herot will have to pay for his actions regardless of what we do. Suspending our lives while worrying about him will accomplish nothing.”
“Nikin sees very clearly.”
“He always has.”
“And Jaros?”
Salomen held up her hand in a not good gesture. “He doesn’t understand how any of this happened. He has no idea why anyone would want to hurt you, least of all Herot. So he’s floating off the ground about being your bondbrother and simultaneously upset and bewildered about Herot. Nikin says he goes up and down like the ball at a wallball game. He’s up when we’re talking about the bonding ceremony, so bringing Counselor Aldirk to Hol-Opah will help. For a few hanticks, anyway.”
Tal curled her fingers around Salomen’s free hand. “Then I’ll look forward to hearing about Jaros’s impressions of Aldirk.”
“And vice versa.”
“Good luck with that. Aldirk is the definition of discretion. He doesn’t usually give personal opinions.”
They finished their soup in a comfortable silence, holding hands until Salomen needed hers to serve the soarfish. “You never explained what I sensed this morning,” she said as she handed Tal’s plate back. “You just said it was interesting that I should ask.”
“Sorry, I was too overcome by the horten soup.” As they ate, Tal gave her an overview of the meeting with Colonel Razine. “Your presence here gives us the perfect pretext,” she concluded. “Would you be comfortable taking part in a little clandestine skimming with me?”
“Isn’t that illegal?”
“I said skimming, not probing. We’re just going to ask him a question that will make him think about corruption in the task force. According to his file, he’s not a strong empath and he’s never been through any formal training, so he won’t be able to front well. If he really is our man, he’ll have strong emotions when thinking about the task force. Maybe smugness, maybe concern about being caught. Maybe even guilt; we could only hope. Those will be right at the surface and easily detectable in a legal skim.”
“And you trust me to be able to keep it to a skim?”
“Of course. Why would I not?”
“Because I haven’t had much practice at it.”
“You’ve had enough. You’ve worked on it consistently for a moon.”
“Yes, but only with you.”
“Are you telling me you’ve never skimmed anyone besides me in the last moon? While restraining yourself from going further?” She felt the answer and added, “You have the control. I’ve seen it growing like a hornstalk. But more importantly, you have the discipline. I never had to teach you that; it’s always been a part of you. I just taught you how to apply it to your gift.”
A tiny smile appeared on Salomen’s face, a small reflection of the larger shift taking place in her emotions. Though Tal hadn’t intended it, the request seemed to be just what she needed.
“Then I’ll be glad to help,” she said.
CHAPTER 18:
Micah speaks
Micah paused just outside the office and straightened his spine before rapping his knuckles on the open door. Tal was standing behind her desk, shuffling things into piles with the haste of a person on her way out. Her distraction was clear—normally, she called for him to enter long before he had an opportunity to knock.
“Micah, hello, enter,” she said, barely looking up. “I was just going back to my quarters. Salomen is on her way from Hol-Opah.”
“I heard,” he said. “I was hoping you might have a few ticks before she gets back. It won’t take long.”
Her hands stilled as she raised her head. “For you, always.” She crossed the room and closed the door behind him. “Sit with me?”
He followed her past the conference table to the more comfortable chairs beneath the bank of windows, doing his best to keep up a good front. Based on her body language, though, she already knew what he had to say.
“I’ve been trying to find the right time to do this,” he said, watching her carefully and seeing a subtle shift in her expression. Yes, she had been waiting for it.
“When you were in the healing center it was impossible,” he continued. “And yesterday I wanted you to have your time with Salomen. But I cannot keep delaying, as tempting as it is, and I know you understand why this is necessary.” With a deliberate movement, he pulled his disruptor off its clip and laid it on the small table between their chairs. His wristcom and earcuff followed. “I’m resigning my title as Chief Guardian due to failure to perform my duties.”
Whatever she was waiting for, it wasn’t this. She didn’t even try to hide her shock.
“What? Are you insane?”
As bad as he felt, her reaction made him smile. “I’m going to miss that attitude.”
“Micah! What in Fahla’s name are you thinking? I’ve been wanting to discuss that night with you, yes, but not because I thought you failed. You did no such thing.”
He hadn’t expected her to argue. He thought her silence on the matter was simply a courtesy; a way of allowing him to resign on his own terms.
“The fact that you spent five days in the healing center is ample proof to the contrary,” he said. “And if you hadn’t been as quick as you were, Salomen would be dead. You don’t call that a failure of security?”
“I call it the re
sult of a betrayal that none of us could have expected. You had the empathic net set for an appropriate distance to catch a sniper. You anticipated the possibility of a professional attack and doubled my Guard after the demonstrations. You did everything right, so how can I hold you responsible for not considering that my own tyree’s brother might be handing out instructions on how to kill me?”
“Because I knew he was a danger. He was arrogant and open in his dislike of you. He resented you and everything you stood for, and he especially resented your relationship with Salomen.”
“This I know. Now tell me how that added up to anything other than him taking a swing at me.”
“He also drank with the dregs of Granelle almost every night. Drunkenness, bad company, youthful indiscretion, anger, and arrogance make a volatile combination. The signs were all there. I should have put them together.”
Tal shook her head. “You’re not convincing me. All I’ve heard so far is that Herot was likely to get himself in trouble, which we all knew. You haven’t explained how that translates to Herot getting me killed. I do not and cannot believe you could have foreseen this. Failure to do the impossible is no failure at all.”
“I’m not here for a debate.” He watched her eyes narrow and gentled his tone. “Your words do you credit as a compassionate friend. But in this, you are not my friend. You are my Lancer, and your compassion can only result in tragedy. You know the truth. If I feel that I’ve failed and that you would be better served by another Chief Guardian, then you cannot argue. My own conviction disqualifies me from serving you.”
She eyed him for a moment, unable to counter that statement. “Every single one of us has failed at some point or another. That doesn’t end our careers. It’s what we do after the failure that counts. Are you telling me that you won’t live what you taught? You’re going to let this dictate your actions, instead of acting to overcome it?”
Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3) Page 15
