A few days ago, Herot would have been angry at Salomen for being angry at him. His acceptance of her reaction showed more maturity than Tal would have thought possible. It was also the one thing that could have induced her to offer comfort.
“She’ll talk to you eventually,” she said. “Probably sooner rather than later. You hurt her and you disappointed her, but you have one very important thing in your favor. You’re her brother, and Salomen does not let go of her family. She’s one of the most loyal people I have ever known.”
“I know. I took a lot for granted.” He gave her an intent look, a sudden shyness coloring his emotions. “Can I ask you something?”
She nodded, wondering if she was ready for it.
“Do you…” He paused before finishing in a rush, “You really love her, don’t you?”
She smiled; that was an easy one. “How could I not? When someone like Salomen loves you, it’s impossible not to love her back.”
“True words. I guess this is the part where I’m supposed to warn you against ever hurting her, but…” He shrugged, embarrassed. “I know you’ll take care of her.”
“I’m doing my best.” Tal hesitated, then held up her palm. “Good-bye, Herot.”
His touch was firm. “Good-bye.”
This time she only got a third of the way down the aisle.
“Lancer Tal!”
She turned in place.
He was struggling to his feet, using the seat back as a crutch. “I know this doesn’t mean much, coming from me. But I’m glad to have you in our family.”
Surprised, she gave him a brief smile. “It means something.”
The sun was well over the horizon as she stepped off the ramp, but she could feel that Salomen was still asleep. Her stride lengthened as she walked toward their temporary quarters, already imagining herself curling around Salomen’s warm body. She wouldn’t have long, but she meant to make the most of it.
And Herot was glad to have her in the Opah family.
Maybe Micah would wake up today. They had already had one miracle; why not two?
CHAPTER 44:
Morning in Redmoon
“Andira.”
Tal reached out, her hand settling on a sleeve. “Why are you dressed?” she mumbled. Salomen needed to be in bed. The sooner she got undressed and climbed in, the sooner Tal could snuggle up to her and sleep again.
“I’m dressed because we have to get up.” Tal’s hair was pushed away from her face, and a gentle kiss touched her forehead. “I let you sleep as long as I could. But it’s our turn with Colonel Micah.”
Tal groaned as she sat up, the vestiges of sleep still gumming up her brain. Her head dropped in exhaustion. “Didn’t I just get in bed?”
“You’ve been sleeping for over two hanticks.” Salomen kissed the back of her neck.
“Really?” She couldn’t believe it and checked her wristcom just to be sure. “Damn. I would have sworn I laid down five ticks ago.”
“You’ve been dead asleep. I wanted to let you stay that way, but you told me to wake you up at hantick nine.”
“I know. But did you have to listen?” Tal threw the coverlet back and slid her legs over the side, the movement helping to clear her head. “No, you’re right. We need to check on Micah, and Colonel Razine should be getting some results soon.” She stood up and took a single step, right into Salomen’s arms. “That’s far enough for now,” she said into her shoulder.
Salomen squeezed her gently. “I’ve never seen you so tired.”
“I think I’m better off just staying up all night than getting a hantick of sleep here and a hantick there.” With a sigh, she pushed herself away and padded through the bathroom doorway.
Salomen followed her in. “Would you like a cup of shannel?”
“I’d sell my title for one.” Tal activated the water shelf and stood under it gratefully. “Ahhh. That’s helping.” She rinsed her hair, slicked it back with her hands, and opened her eyes to find that Salomen hadn’t budged.
“I know you’re not in the mood, and we wouldn’t have time to do anything about it even if you were. But watching you do that is killing me. You’re truly beautiful.” Salomen’s gaze made a slow trip down and up again. “And very sexy when you’re wet.” She pushed off the doorway and turned. “I’ll get your shannel.”
Tal watched her go, her skin tingling. “All right,” she said to the empty room. “I’m awake now.”
The Blacksun military transport was conspicuous by its absence. Salomen said nothing, but Tal saw her looking out the window as they strapped into their seats. They were in the pilot’s cabin, while the four Guards sat in the back. Tal wasn’t about to be chauffeured around Redmoon when flying her own transport was an option. She did a quick check of the flight controls, engaged the engines, and said casually, “He asked after you.”
“Did he?” Salomen was trying for casual as well, but it didn’t go below the surface.
“He wanted to know if you would ever talk to him again.” Tal lifted off the landing pad and moved into the base’s transit airspace.
“Did you tell him I haven’t decided yet?”
“I told him you were having mixed emotions.”
They crossed the base border and began following the river. Several silent ticks passed before Salomen said, “What an understated term for it. Makes me sound as if I can’t quite decide which shirt to wear.” She intercepted the hand Tal held out, clasping it tightly. “I just couldn’t talk to him. I’m not ready.”
“I know. You’re not under any obligation.”
“Of course I’m under an obligation. He’s my brother. And I know it probably hurt him terribly that I let him go back to Blacksun in a prison transport without even saying good-bye. But I’m afraid that if I see him before I get a handle on my anger, I’m going to say something that can never be taken back.”
“Good thing I didn’t have to worry about that. I said quite a few things that can’t be taken back.”
“Do I want to hear this?”
Tal glanced at her. “I told him you almost died. That he’d hurt you and didn’t even have the courage to stay around and see how badly. I think it was the first time he truly understood what he did.”
“What did he say?”
“He broke down completely. Fahla knows I haven’t much use for Herot, but I’ll give him credit for one thing: he loves you very much.”
“Sometimes I’ve wondered,” Salomen said darkly. “Did he tell you that?”
“I don’t think that’s a message he would want to convey through me. It’s not hard to sense, though. And I suspect it will be the second thing he tells you when you talk to him. Right after ‘I’m sorry.’”
“Yes, but is he sorry for the right thing?” Salomen stared straight ahead as the domes of Redmoon approached. “I never doubted that he regretted hurting his family and throwing his life down the fanten feeding chute. And I’m sure he’s sorry about what nearly happened to me. But is he sorry for what he did to you? Is he sorry that the whole world now associates the Opah name with betrayal and attempted murder? Is he sorry for turning his back on everything of value our parents tried to teach him?”
Tal banked around to skirt the city, skimming over the outlying homes toward the shining dome of the healing center. “I don’t know. But I think he’s on the road toward some self-examination. Something has clearly changed—he actually thanked me.”
“He did? So he can see beyond his own nose. That’s encouraging. Did you tell him that he also owes a debt of gratitude to twenty other people?”
“He didn’t thank me for saving him. He thanked me for saving you.”
“Oh.”
Salomen offered nothing more, but a tiny blossom of happiness whisked across Tal’s senses. She gla
nced over in time to catch a small smile on her face.
“And you forgot one thing,” she added. “Exactly half a hantick from now, the whole world will associate the Opah name with you, not Herot.”
“Shek,” Salomen groaned. “I’m not certain that’s an improvement.”
CHAPTER 45:
Family
The quiet of the room was stifling.
Vellmar had never been fond of healing centers; they gave her the spine crawls. She had seen more than one fellow Guard go through the front archway and never come back out again, and even though she knew nothing could have been done to prevent their Return, she still associated healing centers with death. It didn’t appear that this time was going to be any different. Colonel Micah hadn’t died yet, but he certainly wasn’t living.
Carefully, she walked to the colonel’s bedside, then realized she had fallen into the same automatic response everyone else did. People instinctively tiptoed in these places, even though a patient like the colonel wouldn’t wake up if the Redmoon Symphony played an entire windhorn suite in his room. If it were that easy, Lancer Tal would have had the symphony playing at night-two.
Every Guard had now taken a turn, and the rotation was starting over in a quarter hantick with Lancer Tal and Raiz Opah. Vellmar had never seen anything like it. Warriors owed loyalty to their superiors, but this was more than just something owed. This was a loyalty earned. Colonel Micah’s warriors seemed to see him as partially a unit leader and partially family.
She looked around to make sure no one was in the doorway before placing her hands on his energy points. It felt odd and wrong for several reasons, but she had made her decision and she was sticking with it. Taking a deep breath, she bent over and rested her forehead against his.
Darkness. Heavy, liquid darkness, pushing and constricting. It was so different from Sharing with a conscious person, and she instinctively wanted out. For a few moments she thrashed around uselessly, until Dewar’s description came back to her.
Right. She needed to relax.
That was far easier said than done. She managed it only by taking herself to her place of serenity, which finally calmed her enough so that she began floating upward, just as Dewar had said. Moments later she popped out into a light, airy space above the darkness.
Colonel Micah was here, though her sense of him was faint. She didn’t know how to connect with him. He certainly didn’t know her well enough to respond to just her presence. But Sharing with a nonresponsive person should be similar to an intense projection, and she had experience with that. Of course, the last time she had used projection was against the Voloth in the Battle of Alsea. She needed to find a middle space between that kind of force and the light projection she would use with a conscious person—all while accessing emotions that were not her own.
Feeling like a trespasser, she focused on what she had seen the night before, using her memories to guide the emotions.
Colonel Micah, I know you can’t hear me, but you really need to come back.
You have twenty worried Guards out here. Lancer Tal and Raiz Opah are beyond worried; I think the Lancer is already grieving for you.
She’s worried and afraid.
Don’t do this. We all need you.
Come back, please.
A simple set of thoughts, repeated over and over. With each round she recalled the emotions she had absorbed from her oath holders as well as the Guards and reflected them outward. If the colonel was paying any attention at all, he couldn’t miss them.
Most of all, she focused on the grief she saw in the Lancer. If anything could get Colonel Micah’s attention, surely that would. Again and again she called up her memory of the look in Lancer Tal’s eyes as she had stood just inside the transport door, staring at him while Dewar checked his readings. Grief and fear and determination…
Vellmar felt the strain of projecting someone else’s emotions, but she pushed on. She recalled the way Lancer Tal had unhesitatingly dropped to her knees and Shared with Colonel Micah to hold him during their flight; the way Raiz Opah had joined her despite having no prior experience; and the way they had both needed to be helped to a seat afterward, having given so much of their strength to him.
When she had thoroughly tired herself out, she focused on her own feelings.
You have people here who would give their all for you. I’ve never seen anything like it. This is not just honor. This is family. And I just joined the family, so please don’t leave before I’ve even had a chance to know you.
At last she backed away, sinking willingly into the darkness. She was more than ready. She wanted to see through her own eyes again, to feel the vivid senses of her own body. And she wanted a nap.
The darkness rushed in on her, pushing her deeper and deeper until she hit the bottom and came back to herself with a start. The muffled sounds from the corridor, the feel of the colonel’s skin beneath her hands, the slight current of air from the open door, the irritating smell of narnell root: all were welcome signs of her own consciousness.
She raised her head, squinting against the too-bright light—and froze in place as a pair of ice-blue eyes looked back at her.
“Are you all right? I was just about to come after you.”
Vellmar relaxed at the concerned expression on the Lancer’s face. “I’m fine, thank you.” She turned her head to find Raiz Opah on her other side, watching her with a similar expression. “I, ah…I hope this was acceptable.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?” Opah asked. “Every voice helps.”
Lancer Tal took Vellmar’s arm and steered her toward the chairs in the corner. “Sit down. You look a little wobbly.”
She sat gratefully. “I feel a little wobbly. What time is it?”
“Nine and sixty,” Lancer Tal said, taking the seat next to her. “We’ve been watching you for a tentick.”
She had been Sharing for thirty-five ticks? Vellmar groaned to herself. They had come at their scheduled time and—shek. “I apologize for making you wait.”
Lancer Tal shook her head. “There’s no need; I was glad to see you here. Why would you think otherwise?”
“I didn’t feel it was my place. This kind of Sharing…” She gestured at Colonel Micah. “It’s only done with family. This unit is more family than anything else, but I’m new here.”
“And you don’t feel like family yet.” Raiz Opah walked over to stand beside the Lancer’s chair. “Well, you did just arrive two days ago. I can understand your feeling.”
“Was it only two days ago?” Lancer Tal said. “I’d swear it was a nineday at least.”
“I can tell you that this post is a good deal more exciting than my last one. You people pack a lot into two days.”
Lancer Tal snorted a short, unamused laugh. “Believe me, this is not normal. And I pray to Fahla we never have two days like it again.” She gave Vellmar a keen look. “What changed your mind?”
“My entire unit has Shared with the colonel. I’m their Lead Guard. That means I don’t sit in the back while they get things done. I’m supposed to be in front of them, not behind.”
Lancer Tal nodded. “And the other reason?” she asked shrewdly.
This was more difficult. Vellmar looked down briefly before meeting her gaze. “He’s not just your Chief Guardian. I saw it in your face last night. I hope that’s not too personal, but it’s clear that you’re worried about him. More than you would be for someone who was merely a good warrior.”
There was an uncomfortable silence in the room.
The Lancer was letting nothing slip past her front, but her expression showed that she was taken aback. Finally, she quirked an eyebrow and said, “Welcome to the family, Vellmar. I know it’s difficult to come into an established unit like this one. You feel like everyone has a history that doesn’t incl
ude you. But history is made at different rates of time, and as you said, we’ve packed a lot into two days. You’re a part of this unit now. Everyone who came on this mission shares a common bond with him, and that includes you. You were one of his stretcher-bearers. Your Guards won’t soon forget that. Neither will I.”
“Nor I.” Vellmar glanced at the colonel. “I told him that he needs to come back so I can get to know him. I think he has a lot to teach me.”
A slow smile crossed the Lancer’s face. “Yes, he does.”
CHAPTER 46:
Bondlancer
Tal waited until she was sure Salomen had connected before walking over to Vellmar, who had stayed through her Sharing with Micah. She was more and more impressed with her new Lead Guard. Vellmar was a confident, accomplished warrior, yet for all her experience, she still showed an endearing desire for approval. Tal suspected that she cared less about advancement and more about doing the best job she could for her oath holders—which guaranteed her swift rise in the ranks.
Vellmar was watching Salomen with a slightly puzzled look as Tal sat beside her.
“You might as well ask,” Tal said.
“Ask what?”
“Whatever it is you’re trying to figure out about her.”
“That obvious, eh?”
Tal raised her eyebrows, earning a slightly sheepish smile.
“I was just wondering how a producer could have the kind of empathic strength she does. Why isn’t she scholar caste?”
“Why not warrior caste?” Tal countered, just to see what she would say.
“There’s not a doubt in my mind that Raiz Opah could hold her own in our caste. She’s fierce, and she’s a protector. But…” Vellmar trailed off, and Tal took pity on her.
“But she’s not a killer,” she said.
“No.”
Without a Front: The Warrior's Challenge (Chronicles of Alsea Book 3) Page 34
