Jordan

by Susan Kearney

  Devid ignored his question. “The Tribes are amassing for a strike on Earth. Trendonis is on the move. You haven’t much time.” Devid’s expression grew stormy. “You must leave Shadow and go to Tempest, the hurricane world. Retrieve the second key.”

  “And the third key?” Jordan asked.

  The irises of Devid’s eyes grew black until no whites showed. For a moment he seemed to burn with inner fire, and Jordan thought he would dragonshape. But he beat back the blackness in his eyes, until once again he appeared quite human.

  Muscles taut as if fighting some internal battle, Devid intoned, “Change will come to those who fight for the light.”

  “I don’t understand,” Vivianne said softly. “Are you quoting ancient myths, proverbs, or…” Her eyes widened.

  In a flash of light, Devid disappeared.

  If you keep looking back, you’ll miss the present and the future.

  —LADY OF THE LAKE

  13

  What just happened?” Vivianne asked in astonishment.

  At the man’s disappearance, Gray sucked in a noisy breath.

  George didn’t react. Asleep, he lay on his side next to the fire, his feet twitching.

  Jordan rubbed his forehead, but he didn’t look surprised at all. “Devid may not have been any more real than this fire or the chair you’re sitting on.”

  “There are machines that can materialize people, heat, and dragons?” Gray asked.

  “He could have used a transporter.” Vivianne was thinking out loud. And what a wonderful device that would be—instantaneous travel—no on-site machinery required.

  Jordan leaned against a wall of the cave and stared into the fire. “Devid said he was a messenger. He might have been a four-dimensional hologram.”

  Vivianne shivered despite the heat from the fire. “How did Devid know so much about us? Or about the Ancient Staff and the keys? He seemed so certain that Trendonis and the Tribes would strike Earth soon. But who is he, and is his information accurate?”

  Gray’s eyes darkened with speculation. “If Devid really has the power to move instantaneously through space, that would certainly help account for his knowledge of us, of Earth, of the Tribes.”

  Jordan peered out of the cave. “The rains stopped. Let’s head back to the ship.”

  “Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to point us toward Tempest.” Vivianne’s mind was spinning.

  She would have appreciated more of Jordan’s insight, but she’d learned that Jordan neither spoke about the Ancient Staff unless necessary, nor jumped to conclusions about their circumstances.

  Perhaps in private he’d share his thoughts. In the meantime, decisions needed to be made. Vivianne recalled the planet Tempest, with its one icy island and hurricane-force winds. Landing the Draco there wouldn’t just be dangerous, it might be impossible. “You think the hurricane world’s a trap?”

  Jordan raised an eyebrow. “It’s crossed my mind.”

  His suspicions matched her own and left her uneasy. They retraced their steps, but when they reached the place where they’d entered the forest, the road and grass were gone. The thatched huts had vanished, too. Instead, the Draco perched on a dirt plain that swept like a black river to the horizon.

  Vivianne spun to look back at the forest, but it, too, had vanished. She rubbed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. But when she dared to look again, she was still standing on black earth, the terrain now matching the sight they’d first seen from space.

  George growled, yanked, and tore the leash from her hand, then bolted for the Draco. With a frown she turned to Gray and Jordan. “Did we just have the mother of all hallucinations?”

  Jordan rolled his shoulders as if to clear the tension. “If so, the dog had one, too.”

  George made a beeline for the ship, covering the distance on his short legs quickly, and scratched the hatch to enter. When no one immediately opened the airlock, he stood on his hind legs and barked for admittance.

  Gray raised his handheld. “Tennison?”

  “You aren’t going to believe this.” Tennison’s voice thrummed with excitement. “We didn’t open the hatch, but the hold’s stocked with food. Enough to feed us for a year.”

  A year? Her knees weakened. Was that how long Devid expected them to be gone?

  When a loud boom reverberated through the thin air, Vivianne automatically ducked and looked up. Three slender silver spaceships had just broken the sound barrier. As they descended and braked, their shields hit the atmosphere and flames flared.

  While she stared, Jordan grabbed her arm. “Run. We’re a sitting target on the ground.”

  So was their ship. Vivianne lunged into a full-out sprint.

  Tennison’s voice came over their handhelds. “We’ve got company. Hostile.”

  “You’re certain?” she asked.

  “They’re locking weapons on the Draco. Get back here. Now.”

  Gasping for air in Shadow’s thin atmosphere, Vivianne sprinted for the Draco, running toward the one place those ships would surely attack. But they had no choice—staying here would likely get them just as dead.

  Legs pumping, lungs burning, she ran alongside Jordan and Gray. Without trees or roads for perspective, judging the distance was difficult. It was farther than she’d thought.

  Suddenly the ships disappeared from the sky. But Jordan and Gray weren’t slowing, so she kept running.

  “Hurry,” Jordan urged. “They’re orbiting. We have to launch the Draco while they’re on the back side of the planet.”

  “I’m trying,” she panted.

  Jordan spoke into the handheld. “Open the airlock.”

  From their angle she couldn’t see it open, but George stopped barking and disappeared inside.

  Another few steps. Sweat beaded her forehead and dripped into her eyes. She could see the ships returning on the horizon. Her legs felt like lead, and Jordan and Gray were pulling her now, but she couldn’t keep up with their longer strides.

  “I’m slowing… you down,” she gasped. “Just go without me.”

  Jordan yelled, “We aren’t leaving you. So if you die, we all die.”

  Talk about motivation. The sting of his words gave her an extra spurt of adrenaline. She told herself she didn’t need air. If her lungs couldn’t grab enough oxygen, she’d just run without it.

  Still, she staggered the last few yards. Jordan picked her up and carried her, running full tilt into the Draco. After setting her on her feet, he sprinted for the engine room.

  Gasping for air, she made her way to the bridge. Jordan had to reinstall the Ancient Staff to power the ship. Meantime, maybe she could keep the ships from attacking. “Open communications.”

  Through the viewscreen, she watched the ships as they flew in ever closer.

  “You’re good to talk,” Tennison told her. “But they have us in a weapons lock.”

  Anger forged her voice in steel. “Back off, or we’ll blow you out of the sky.”

  Tennison leaned over his monitor. “I think… yes. They’re slowing.”

  Surely her threat hadn’t worked?

  “Come on, Jordan.” Vivianne paced. “We need power.”

  “Message coming in,” Tennison reported.

  “Put it on speaker,” Vivianne said.

  A cold and arrogant voice crackled through the speaker. “Prepare to die.”

  Despite herself, she shivered.

  Jordan spoke over the intercom to the enemy commander. “Go to hell, Trendonis.”

  Cold laughter mocked them. “Earth is about to fall. And this time, you won’t be able to stop us.”

  Jordan swore.

  She signaled Tennison to cut communications. Somehow she didn’t think the two men cursing each other would do them much good. But something else beyond Trendonis’s threat against Earth niggled at the back of her mind. The exchange had seemed oddly intimate. The hatred… personal.

  Sean frowned at the viewscreen. “Each ship has launched f
our missiles.”

  There was no place to run. Nowhere to hide.

  “Power’s ramping up,” Tennison reported. “But the engines won’t be hot before those missiles…”

  “How long have we got?” Vivianne asked, her pulse pounding.

  “Three minutes.”

  “Can we trigger those missiles to detonate early?” she asked Gray, who’d swiveled into the science station.

  “Hell, we’re talking alien technology. I don’t know what makes them tick.”

  “Throw some energy at them,” Vivianne ordered. “Radio, Electromagnetic. Laser. Maybe we’ll luck out.”

  “Two minutes.”

  Gray’s hands blurred over the console. “Nothing’s working.”

  “How much power have we got?” Jordan asked as he strode onto the bridge. The sight of his strong face, his lack of fear, and the determination in his jutting chin gave her hope.

  “Not enough power to take off,” Tennison said, his voice steady.

  Vivianne’s stomach churned. If the Draco was destroyed, Earth’s best hopes of defeating the Tribes would disintegrate with them.

  “Missile strike in one minute.”

  Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the number of moments that take our breath away.

  —GEORGE CARLIN

  14

  So what do we do now?” Vivianne asked.

  “Working on an idea,” Jordan murmured, his expression as hard as industrial diamonds.

  “Thirty seconds until impact.”

  A shiver shimmied down her back. “You don’t have a plan, do you?”

  “It’s a work in progress.” Jordan made an adjustment at the command center and pulled up the hyperdrive screen.

  What was he doing with hyperdrive controls when they were still on the ground? From their current position, the Draco couldn’t safely initiate hyperspace maneuvers. On planets, the transporters were tied deep into the bedrock, which allowed them to launch in a predetermined direction. Here, with the ship merely parked on the surface, engaging the hyperdrives could blast them straight up, or straight down, where they’d end up encased in the planet’s core.

  Jordan had started a two-second burn. He was blasting off—without setting a course. They could end up in a fold in space or inside the heart of a star or a black hole.

  “Ten seconds until missiles impact.”

  Lyle ran onto the bridge, eyes full of panic. “We’re going to die.”

  “Not yet.” Jordan slammed the hyperdrive into gear.

  She sucked in a breath. Held it while the streaks of hyperspace flickered and replaced normal space.

  As they popped back into sub–light space, she finally breathed out a sigh. The Draco was intact.

  “Any sign of Trendonis and his ships?” Jordan placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. No doubt he could feel her trembling.

  “He’s the least of our worries,” Gray said.

  Jordan kneaded her shoulder. “Don’t be so certain. Trendonis can track a comet by its dust.”

  She should move away before anyone noticed. But his fingers felt too damn good as he kneaded her knotted muscles.

  Lyle’s voice trembled. “You know Trendonis?”

  “Yes,” Jordan spat.

  “Are this ship and Earth under attack because that man hates you?” Lyle asked, this time his tone thoughtful.

  “I’m not that important.” Jordan stepped away from Vivianne, turned to the command console and busied himself with the nav system. “Lay in a course for Tempest,” he ordered. “Use Devid’s coordinates.”

  “We aren’t lost?” she whispered.

  Jordan grinned. “Courtesy of Devid, we’re the proud owners of a galactic set of star charts. The best I’ve ever seen.”

  She walked closer to the viewscreen and stared into space. While there was nothing particularly fascinating outside, she needed a little distance from Jordan. “How far is Tempest?”

  “We need to be heading to Earth to warn them, not onto another alien world and into a damn hurricane,” Lyle said.

  “Earth’s already been warned,” Jordan reminded him.

  Both Lucan and Marisa had brought back reports of the Tribes’ intentions to attack Earth. The planet had already prepared as well as possible.

  When no one said anything more, Lyle stalked off the bridge.

  Gray peered at his screen, a green glow from the monitor highlighting his worry as well as the silver in his hair. “You want the good news or the bad news?”

  “Just tell us,” Jordan ground out, his fingers tightening on the console.

  “The hyperspace trick shot us halfway to Tempest. At sub–light speed we should arrive in eight hours.”

  Vivianne remained tense. “And the bad news?”

  “The entire weather system has splintered. Where there were ten hurricanes before, now there are fifteen.”

  She didn’t understand his concern. If the hurricanes were breaking up into smaller storms, that would make landing on the world easier. “What’s bothering you?”

  “The intensity of the storms isn’t diminishing.” Gray punched up the viewscreen and displayed the planet. Sean gasped beside her. Each storm had its own distinct swirl and its own eye, but the major storm systems blanketed the oceans, blocking the entire island from view.

  Sean whistled. “I’m clocking wind speeds of over four hundred miles an hour.”

  Vivianne stared at the swirling eye. “This hull isn’t designed to fly in that kind of weather.”

  “We’ll have to wait out the storm,” Jordan agreed, folding his arms across his chest, but she recognized the stubborn tension running through him. He wasn’t giving up, and he wouldn’t turn back.

  As if sensing her worries, George trotted onto the bridge and headed straight to her. She lifted him up, and he tried to lick her ear.

  His breath smelled like hamburger, and despite all her concerns, her stomach growled. “I’m heading to the galley for food, then to the cabin for some rest.”

  She hoped Jordan would join her. She had so many questions to ask him in private. But ever since Devid had mentioned Trendonis’s name and then Trendonis had attacked, he’d been tense, brooding, and even less communicative than usual.

  She entered the galley and accepted a salad from Knox.

  The other woman grinned. “Enjoy. I never knew fresh vegetables could taste so good.” She handed her a small carafe. “Raspberry dressing with nuts and mandarin oranges.”

  Vivianne slid into a chair, drizzled the dressing over the salad, and stabbed a carrot. “When you’re hungry, almost anything is good. But you’ve outdone yourself. This is fantastic.”

  Vivianne closed her eyes and let the taste slide over her tongue. The years of hunger during her childhood had made her appreciate good food.

  “So how are you and Jordan getting along?” Knox asked.

  “I don’t know.” Vivianne opened her eyes, scooped up lettuce, baby peas, and fried noodles, and took her time chewing. “He told me not to count on him, but back there on the planet he refused to leave me behind. That could have cost us our lives.”

  “Of course he wouldn’t leave you behind.” Knox sat across the table from her. “Did I mention I have six brothers?”

  “You did.”

  “Well, one thing I’ve learned about men is that they often say one thing and do something else.”

  “And which do you listen to?”

  “I go with my heart.”

  Vivianne laughed. “I take it you and Darren—”

  “Are going strong.” Knox sighed. “He hasn’t told me he loves me, but he does.”

  “How can you be so sure?” Vivianne asked.

  “When the ship went cold, he gave up his spacesuit for me.”

  Maybe he would have done that for any woman. Some men were chivalrous that way. But Vivianne kept the thought to herself. She saw no reason to ruin the dreamy look in Knox’s eyes.

  When Darren entered
the galley, Vivianne informed him that his shift on the bridge began soon, then she retired to the cabin and slept. She awakened in the morning to an empty bed. But Jordan had invaded her dreams. Moisture seeped between her thighs, and her breasts tingled.

  She tossed aside a pillow, determined to ignore her needs. If Jordan had come by, he’d left no evidence of his presence.

  Either something new was wrong or he was avoiding her. Maybe both.

  As she stretched she expected the tingles to fade, but instead the sheet seemed to caress her skin and the scales on the insides of her limbs undulated. Heat flushed her neck and… Damn it. Not now.

  Gritting her teeth, she dressed and forced herself to think about their current situation.

  Jordan had told her the Tribe leader Trendonis had destroyed his world. He’d said he knew Trendonis by reputation. But was that the entire story? And could the animosity between them be affecting Jordan’s judgment? Would returning to Earth and using this ship to fight the Tribes do any good?

  Anyone who possessed the Grail had the ultimate defense weapon, an army of immortals, and held the upper hand in the coming battle between the Tribes and Earth. Stealing back the Grail from the Tribes was imperative. As far as she was concerned, the Wind Key was of lesser importance, since Jordan wasn’t even certain if he required all the keys to unite the Staff with the Grail.

  She glanced out the porthole. The hurricanes remained at full force. Perhaps if the hurricanes didn’t abate, she could convince Jordan to return for the Wind Key on Tempest later.

  She toggled the intercom. “Jordan, where are you?”

  “Engineering.”

  That did it. He’d gone to the one place in the Draco she wanted to avoid. Damn him.

  But she was done hiding her sensual side. Done pretending she didn’t have a flirtatious cell in her body. She had a plan, and Jordan wasn’t going to stop her.

  No man deserves punishment for his thoughts.

  —KING ARTHUR PENDRAGON

  15

  Why are you avoiding me?” Vivianne asked as she walked into engineering. In the tight quarters, the scent of her soap wafted to Jordan. Turning over on the hard deck, he looked at her. And his hormones went ballistic. Ponytail bouncing, her shirt collar open at the V of her neck, she looked more like a college student than a corporate CEO—until he saw her turbulent green eyes.