“Oh,” Kamaney said, hushed. “That was amazing. We have to do that again.” And then, remembering herself. “Not yet, though. Too many gifts at a time… you stop appreciating them, right? Like eating all the chocolates in a box at once.” She grinned. “You understand.”
“Yes,” the Queen whispered. “You are wise. I would not want this to ever become routine.”
“Let me see you.” The pirate stalked closer. “Let her up, ah, yes. Look at you.” The Queen had straightened for inspection, body quivering. “So beautiful. An and Bast! You look like a copy of the Phoenix, almost. But in silver, not gold.”
“Pewter, I’d say,” the Eldritch said.
“Let’s see the wings again?” The pirate sighed as the Queen opened them. “Gorgeous. I gave you that! Didn’t I.”
“You did,” the Queen murmured.
“Maybe you could find her a cargo bay to fly in?” the Eldritch suggested.
The Queen’s head jerked up.
“I could, yes. Though… empty cargo bays. Not easy to come by. Maybe some other time.” The pirate’s smile grew cruel and knowing. “When I’m able. You understand.”
The Queen did, yes. Another thing to dangle before her, but never give her, to express power over her. “I do. This is already magnificent, beyond repayment.”
The pirate almost purred. Turning to the Eldritch she said, “You were right about her.”
“I’m sure you would have seen it yourself in time,” the Eldritch replied. “But you’re a busy woman.”
“Yes… yes I am.” The pirate waved to the guards and jerked her chin toward the Phoenix. “Take this thing away. And now, speaking of busy… I have work to get back to. Very important work. Commercial empires like this don’t run themselves.” She showed teeth. “We’ll do this again. Soon. And I’ll see you both for dinner.”
“Naturally,” the Eldritch said for them both. “Thank you.”
The guards walked them back to their separate quarters, stopping at the Eldritch’s first. The female said, “I’ll come by to help you dress for dinner later.”
“Thank you,” the Queen said.
Alone in her rooms, she went to the bathroom to stare at her alien visage in the mirror. The long silver face—she could have mistaken it for her Chatcaavan one in passing. But the crest of feathers, tipped darker than the skin pebbling the area around her eyes and cheeks, was nothing like her Chatcaavan horns and hair. It flexed and rose according to her moods, and even when she calmed herself it spread and sank with her breathing. Like her Chatcaavan body, her Phoenixae one was flat-chested. Her hands….they were peculiar, since the littlest finger became the leading edge of her wings. She couldn’t rotate her forearms in the way she was used to, not fully.
But she had wings, and they were whole.
For a long time, she sat on her bed, holding herself, and watched the feathers move.
Sediryl entered her quarters to the sight of the Faulfenzair dancing. She stopped short, struck. To watch the Chatcaavan Queen, to hold her while she underwent what had looked like a spiritual experience, and to have that tainted by the setting… it had been so hard that walking into a victimless performance of beauty made her throat close. Qora danced with a deliberate power that invested every motion with meaning, and yet something about it felt so natural that it made her think of a white banner twisting in the wind, or dandelion fluff floating through summer sunlight. Such lightness of carriage, to go with such a dense frame. How did he make it look so effortless? Why were her eyes watering?
The Faulfenzair halted with his head halfway to the floor and face quirked toward the wall, arms curving as if to hold something precious and tail a long arc that completed the shape made by one outstretched leg. From that pose he flicked green eyes up to hers, and they twinkled with secrets, like dew on grass.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said.
“But you didn’t.” He straightened, shaking his mane behind his shoulders. “You waited until I finished.”
“I… yes. I guess I did.” The corner of Sediryl’s mouth twitched up. “It was beautiful.”
“Truth is,” the priest said. “Even when it hurts.” He stretched. “My companion is in the bathroom, and has been for a very long time. He needs your comfort.”
“Not yours?” Sediryl said, curious.
The alien showed teeth in an affable grin. “I am unexpected comfort. He needs familiar comfort now.”
Her tenuous acquaintance would have to do, and their connection through Jahir. “All right. Thank you, Qora.” She headed for the bathroom, chewing her lower lip between her teeth. How to handle the application of familiar comfort, though… she stopped at the door and called, “Vasiht’h? I could use some help.”
She leaned against the doorframe while she waited, trying to ignore the quivers in her lower spine and knees. So much could have gone wrong; so much still could. Her skin ached from the constriction of her costume and her scalp from the weight of her hair, pinned off her neck. She wanted to sleep for a week, and never wanted to sleep again, wondering what she would see if she closed her eyes.
The door opened for her cousin’s partner, who looked shrunken and constrained, paws pressed together at the ankle, wings tucked hard to his spine. Vasiht’h looked up at her. “You need help?”
From his voice he was barely keeping himself together. She could sympathize. “I told the pirate I needed bodyservants, and while that’s not the literal truth I wouldn’t mind help with my back laces.”
“Oh!” Vasiht’h hesitated. “Oh. You don’t mind me touching you?”
“No. I’ve never had much of a talent in that regard.” Sediryl made a face. “I’m grateful for it now.”
“I don’t blame you,” he replied, and the strange look in his eye had vanished, replaced with something considering. “I can help, sure. I’d be glad to help.” A hesitation she found perplexing. “You won’t mind if I’m not good at it?”
“I wouldn’t expect it,” Sediryl said. “Just remember the laces don’t come untied. You want to loosen it from my waist up, and again from my waist down. Then I can undo the busk in the front.”
Vasiht’h clenched his fists once, then flexed them. “I can do that.”
Sediryl sighed. “Thank you. Maybe out here? The bathroom’s a little small for us both.”
In the center of the bedchamber, Sediryl stood for the Glaseah, feeling his fingers pick at the laces, tug them until she swayed and the boots corrected the motion. His first plucks were uncertain, but gradually he became more assured. “That jerk near your knees looks really uncomfortable. What’s doing it?”
“It’s the boots. They have internal stabilizers, and they are horrible.” She managed a laugh. “I can say that about a pair of boots still. Maybe I’ll survive this.”
“You will.” Vasiht’h’s voice was subdued but decisive. “People have suffered worse and been all right.”
“You would know better than me.” She sighed as the boning started to give. “Thank you, arii.”
“I’m here to help you.” More steadily. “That’s the only thing I have. That She put me here to help you. That we’re here to destroy this.” Something in his voice… had she been wrong? That hadn’t sounded like misery, but something hotter. “Anything else is unthinkable.”
“Good, because I plan to use your help.” Sediryl liberated one of the telegems from her ear and passed it behind her back. “Here, can you hang this without an earlobe?”
“I… guess?” He plucked it from her fingers. A few moments later, he resumed unlacing her.
“Maia?”
“Here, arii.”
Vasiht’h’s fingers ceased. “You have help?”
“My Queen’s employee,” Sediryl said. “The D-Per Maia. Maia, this is Vasiht’h, my cousin’s partner.”
“Alet. I’m pleased to meet you—any ally in this place is a good thing.”
“I… likewise?” Vasiht’h stammered. “You’re here, in the base?�
�
“I am,” Maia said grimly. “And I’m glad of it, too. I’ve been trying to find out where Kamaney came from and how she might have come by some serious Fleet-level personal shielding, which is how I’ve discovered the channels out to the Alliance are absolutely covered in triggers. Someone’s paranoid about anyone putting a whisker outside this system.”
“Probably sensible,” Sediryl said. “The Chatcaava might turn a blind eye to her empire-building, but one message to Fleet would bring them here in force.”
“Right. So that’s not a go. Intrasystem communication is fairly free; I’ve found the Visionary in a slip, but there’s no way for me to get into it. They’ve shut it down and there are triggers all over that too… no getting out that way. Not yet at least. So I’ve been listening in on their intership comm channels instead, and I’ll have an organizational table for you soon. But more importantly, there’s a line open to the Empire.”
Sediryl froze. “Is there?”
“And you’ll never guess why. She’s doctoring her own communiques back to her ‘allies.’”
“She’s what?”
“The Chatcaava don’t know about this fleet, Sediryl. They think the entirety of Kamaney’s force is on the border, doing the work they asked her to do. And she’s massaging all the sensor data and logs they’re sending back to the Chatcaava to reinforce that message.”
“What does she want to do with this fleet, then?” Vasiht’h asked, startled.
“That’s the question, alet,” Maia replied. “And I think the answer for now is ‘she’s hedging her bets.’ She hasn’t decided what to do with them.”
“So,” Sediryl said. “Our job is to decide for her.”
“What?” Vasiht’h said.
Sediryl struggled to inhale and made it most of the way through her breath. “Vasiht’h, please. Can you…?”
He resumed his labors. “You think you can take control of a pirate fleet? By convincing its leader to do what you want? Are you crazy?”
“I don’t know,” she said, fighting an inappropriate levity. “You’re the xenotherapist.”
He growled and yanked a lace hard enough to make her sway backwards. “This is a stupid way of fastening anything. Especially clothes! Who dresses like this?”
“Women do, when they want people to think with their libidos instead of their brains.” Sediryl paused. “Men do as well, probably. I have yet to see a man in a corset, but I’m sure there’s a Harat-Shar somewhere who’d oblige me.”
“Sediryl. The pirate fleet?”
“Yes.” She rolled her shoulders. “We’re here to make sure Kamaney doesn’t throw the war to the Chatcaava, arii.”
“Remember what she wants,” Maia cautioned. “She’s not going to do anything against her interests.”
“What does she want?” Vasiht’h asked.
“An empire of her own.”
Vasiht’h paused, then sighed, frustrated. “What is it with all the people around me and this need to be in charge? Of everything?”
“Surely not everyone around you is a frustrated leader in want of a country,” Sediryl said, smiling. “Or should I be worried about Jahir?”
A snort. “The opposite there.” One more tug and the corset gapped open. “There. Better?”
Sediryl shuddered. “So much. Do you mind…?”
Vasiht’h backed away. “No. I don’t care if you don’t.”
“Good.” She unbuttoned the train, threw off the corset with prejudice, and dropped onto the bed to start on her boots, wearing only her wrinkled chemise. “Goddess save me from my wardrobe. So, Maia. Kamaney’s desires.”
“She’s going to jump for whatever outcome will deliver a planet, or maybe several, into her hands. According to the communications I’ve found, the Chatcaava have promised her as many worlds on the border as she wants, along with—and I quote here—“at least one major Pelted homeworld.””
“What?” Vasiht’h’s ears dropped.
“Would they do that?” Sediryl frowned, pulling off one of the boots. “I wouldn’t have assumed the dragons capable of sharing.”
“I don’t think they are, no. And I don’t think Kamaney thinks so either, if she’s not stupid.”
“She doesn’t appear to be stupid,” Sediryl said. “Only insane.”
“Sadly.”
“Is she?” Vasiht’h interrupted. “Insane.”
“You saw her.” Sediryl undid the second boot and tossed it aside, wiggling her stockinged toes. “The Karaka’An who was with me in the cargo bay.”
Vasiht’h’s eyes lost their focus. Then he shuddered. “I hate to make snap diagnoses, but she didn’t look right.”
“I’m not making a snap judgment,” Sediryl said, “and she isn’t.” She sighed. “So, she’s holding back for the good reason that she mistrusts her titular allies. But she’s communicating regularly with the Chatcaava.”
“Yes.”
“And that means...”
“That we might be able to send a message that way?” Maia’s voice sounded pinched. “Possible. Unlike sending one to the Alliance, which would be a good way to get us all killed. But Uuvek might not be out of reach, or if he is, maybe the Queen will know someone closer.”
“Will you ask her?”
“The next moment it seems safe.”
Sediryl nodded. “Err on the side of caution.”
“Trust me, arii, I’m erring on the side of paranoia. And speaking of that, you realize the guards have no problems coming into these rooms unannounced.”
“Nor Kamaney. Yes, I noticed.”
“We could talk mind-to-mind?” Vasiht’h offered.
Sediryl glanced at him. “I don’t know that I can...? I’ve never been able to use any of the powers Eldritch are born with. Even touching skin to skin, I can’t hear thoughts.”
“But I can,” Vasiht’h said. “And... I’m not a minor talent anymore. Or at least, I don’t think I am, not after Jahir exerting himself at me on the other end of the mindline. We might not be able to talk without touching like he and I can, but I can touch a non-esper and make them hear me, and hear them. We should be able to do it.”
“You should try,” Maia said. “The more secure means of communications we have, the better.”
“All right.” Sediryl held out her hands, felt the smooth warmth of the Glaseah’s palms over hers. Such a minor thing, and yet it seemed like forever since a friendly touch. Closing her eyes, she waited for Vasiht’h’s thoughts to open hers. What would it be like, to finally know what other Eldritch experienced? Would she like it or would years of isolation in her own mind make the contact distasteful? What would he sound like? Would it be sound at all, or something else? Like dreaming, maybe?
When her conjectures had stretched on for too long, Sediryl opened her eyes and found the Glaseah frowning at her.
“Should I be doing something?” she asked.
“I can’t reach you at all.” He studied her face but he was looking past her eyes, not into them. “Like there’s a wall.”
“I suppose that’s why I never had any luck with my talent?” Sediryl said lightly.
“I’ve never heard of anything like it. Mindblind, yes. But you’re more like… mindguarded.”
“I have an internal moat.” It should have been funnier. Instead it seemed ominous.
Vasiht’h released her hands. “I don’t understand. Would you mind if we tried again later?”
“Not at all.” She smiled a little. “I’m sorry it’s not working. Maia is right… it would have been useful.” Vasiht’h reached toward the earring and she held up a hand. “No, leave it. I’d feel better if Maia could talk to more than one of us.”
“Me too,” Maia admitted. “But your single earring is going to look strange.”
“Not if I clip it to my bodice and call it a brooch.” Sediryl arched her back, stretching the complaining skin along her sides. “And now I should nap before dinner, if I can.”
“I’ll leave y
ou to it,” Vasiht’h said.
“And I have my own investigations to continue,” Maia said to her. “I’ll tell you if I find something new.”
“If you can discover who she is…,” Sediryl said.
Maia sounded tired. “With our luck she’s some nameless ensign who never ranked up. A nobody.”
Sediryl said, “Nobodies can be dangerous.”
“This one certainly is,” the D-per replied.
Outside the bedroom, Vasiht’h drifted to a halt, frowning. Never in all his life had he run into anything like what he’d sensed trying to reach for Sediryl’s thoughts. He’d been in and out of the heads of dozens of relatives, touched minds in passing with many Glaseahn strangers in his youth, and then of course, there had been the mindline and his dreamwork with Jahir. People without esper abilities were the norm, but their minds were porous, not… not armored. That’s what it had reminded him of. As if there was a pressure inside her forcing everything out.
“Have an interesting afternoon?” Qora said from his corner, startling the Glaseah.
Vasiht’h eyed him, thoughtful. “Do Faulfenza speak mind to mind?”
“No. We have other talents.”
“Like?”
Qora smiled, no teeth this time. “We burn things with our hands.” At Vasiht’h’s expression, he laughed. “We warm them too. As I said, fire is a dangerous gift. So, what about your tall friend is worrying you?”
“I’m not worried… exactly,” Vasiht’h said. “I was looking for something she should have, and she doesn’t have it.”
“Ah,” Qora said. “Maybe you’re looking in the right place.”
“You mean not looking, right?”
“No.”
Vasiht’h eyed him sharply, but the Faulfenzair had closed his eyes again and resumed his quixotic silence.
Kamaney was in an expansive mood at dinner that night, beaming at the Chatcaavan Queen who’d wisely chosen to attend in her new shape. Or at least, Sediryl thought she knew why the Queen had come “dressed” so… once in a while, something about the way the other woman reacted made her wonder if there were other motivations there.
In Extremis Page 19
