Twilight tdts-3

by Кристи Голдэн

  Jake, too, titled her head, smiling at the accurate assessment. "Is that what you do, then? Surely you and your people have burdens of your own to bear, and you cannot share them with others in the Khala when they become too great. "

  "I meditate. I sit in the quiet stillness that is the Void. And there is a small world that no one else knows about. The hue of the sky, a comforting pink, soothes, as do the energies of a certain place nestled in the mountains near rushing waters. It is there that I go when I am... uncertain or unhappy. The natural world heals."

  "...Zamara... it is you... and yet it is not. There is another's mind —by the Void, it is...human?"

  Jake whimpered then gritted his teeth against the weakness. Zeratul, for he knew now that it was that powerful individual, was still distant. Zamara was having to work hard to project her thoughts so far, and the strain was making his head throb.

  "We are in the place you spoke of, so long ago, by the rushing water. Come to us and I will tell you more about why I am here, and what we seek from you."

  ".. .1 would you had not come here, old friend." And with that cryptic message, Jake felt Zeratul withdraw from his mind. Zamara gentled her presence immediately and the pain eased. Jake gulped some of the delicious, refreshingly cool river water and splashed some on his flushed face. He despised his weakness, but it was both impossible and foolish to deny it.

  Zamara—he will help us, won't he?

  I have no doubt that he will. Zeratul is not one to run from the truth, no matter how unpleasant or difficult it may be to face. He was indirectly responsible for the destruction ofAiur, but he accepted his part in that and strove to do what he could to save the rest of his people.

  Jake blinked, startled. What? Zeratul destroyed Aiur? I thought it was the zerg.

  Zamara didn't respond, and Jake realized that he could now see the approaching ship. It was similar to the one he and Zamara had... borrowed, but it was larger and presumably capable of space flight as well as atmospheric travel. Still, it was obviously of dark templar design—purple-black with glowing green energies dancing around it, larger and bulkier than a comparable vessel of traditional protoss design. Jake got to his feet, both excited and uneasy and chafing at the fact that his question about the destruction of Aiur—a pretty major event—had not been answered. Zamara sent him calm, but no explanations.

  The ship landed and the green, pulsating glow that danced about its hull subsided. A ramp unfurled and a door irised open, and there stood the first dark templar Jake had ever seen.

  Zeratul was slightly stooped, and while he wore robes that were similar to what Zamara remembered, they looked a bit frayed around the edges, as if the wearer didn't much care for his appearance. His eyes, however, still glowed fiercely, and when he turned to regard Jake, the human thought he'd never felt as seen in his life. He felt positively naked under that piercing gaze.

  "Why is it," Zeratul said mildly, "that recently I seem to become entangled with humans?"

  "Maybe you need a little comic relief," Jake said deprecatingly. Zeratul half closed his eyes and tilted his head, and his laughter washed over Jake. The archaeologist gave a half-smile.

  "I had thought Raynor a remarkable, perhaps unique," representative of the terran race," Zeratul continued, moving down the ramp with the same graceful stride that marked all of his species. "And yet behold, when I come to my secluded place to think and reflect, I am greeted by a human who holds a protoss preserver in his head." There was a hint of condescension in his mental voice, but more of admiration. And curiosity, but dulled somehow, as if it did not prick him as it ought to.

  "Zamara," he continued, directing his speech to the preserver but including Jake in the conversation, "how is it I find you here?"

  "My body is dead and decomposed," Zamara answered quietly. "But my will and spirit live on." She fell silent to Jake's mental hearing, but Zeratul listened intently, nodding. Jake realized she was quickly and efficiently filling the dark templar in on what had transpired.

  Some of it, at least. There are things that would be best told by you, Jacob. And information I would reveal to you both at the same time.

  Jake was oddly touched by Zamara's consideration. He had expected that he'd be the classic third wheel at this reunion, but Zamara seemed determined that he be an active part.

  "Your will is admirable, Zamara," said Zeratul slowly.

  Jake sensed a "but" in there.

  "...But I do not know that you have come to the right protoss for aid."

  Zeratul turned his purple-hued face up to the sky and closed his eyes. There was weariness and something else in Zeratul's mental voice. More than simple tiredness or frustration. Something that—

  I'll be damned, Jake said to Zamara. Zeratul—he's soul sick.

  She did not respond, and he realized that she was as taken aback as he. Perhaps more so.

  "Zeratul?" Jake said tentatively. "I don't know exactly what Zamara told you, but there's a lot at stake here. We really need your help."

  "I did not come here to help you, human. And I do not know thatI could even if I wished. Zamara knows." He turned and gazed at Jake, but it was Zamara he was looking for.

  "This is my sanctuary. I did not ask you to invade it, and I am not pleased to see you, preserver. You bore witness to my failing once before, and it is now recorded in your memories for all generations to know. I, Prelate Zeratul, was the one who told the zerg where to find Aiur. The blood of all those who fell is on my hands."

  Whoa! I thought he was one of the good guys!

  He is, Zamara reassured him. There was no doubt in her mind.

  "You destroyed a cerebrate, killing it permanently," Zamara said. "You used what the Void had taught your people—you did something we never could have done without you. You know it is not your fault that in that moment, your thoughts were made known to the Overmind, who plucked from them the location of our homeworld."

  Jake felt a rush of sympathy. That burden of guilt had to be heavy.

  Zeratul waved a hand, almost angrily. "I well know I would never have betrayed Aiur intentionally. And yet, betrayed it was, and so many died. I must live with that. That—and other things. Some of the things I have seen, and some of the deeds I have done, Zamara, are darker and colder than the Void itself, and all the rationality and reason in the universe cannot expunge the guilt."

  Something as bad or worse than leading the zerg to an innocent planet? What the hell has this guy done?

  Jake was shocked and more than a little worried, but Zamara was angry—angrier than perhaps he had ever seen her. "Perhaps you are right, Zeratul. I came seeking a protoss of wisdom, of insight. That is the Prelate Zeratul I sought. Instead, I find before me a shadow of that being. One who is more concerned with his own pain and guilt than the future of his people. I have seen arrogance in our people before, in the actions of the Conclave. I never thought to see it in thedark templar, least of all in the protoss I had come to admire as the best the dark templar had to offer."

  Zeratul drew himself up to his full imposing height. Green fire blazed in his eyes. "Arrogance? You do not know of what you speak. Even with all that you have seen, preserver, I think if you had borne witness to what I have, you would be less judgmental."

  "Perhaps," agreed Zamara. Jake stayed silent, utterly taken aback by this vehement confrontation between a protoss he knew to be rational and calm and one he'd been led to believe was the same. "But you are too consumed by your self-pity and what you have labeled your shame to confide in me. It is well you are here, Zeratul. I cannot think that in your present state you would be of any use to our people on Shakuras, or indeed, of use to Jacob or myself. Jacob and I have come from Aiur, where we watched others die protecting us and the information I bear. Our passage to Shakuras has been blocked. I know not where to turn now, but rest assured, until you can conduct yourself better, it shall not be to you."

  For a dreadful moment, Jake was certain Zeratul was going to physically attack Zamara
—and by extension, Jake and his terran body. With Zamara in control, he'd been able to defeat Ethan Stewart's pet assassin, Phillip Randall. But he knew with certainty that Zamara would not come off the victor in a fight with Zeratul, even if she had been equipped with psi blades. Though moody and emotionally shattered, Zeratul was still a force to be reckoned with.

  Then to Jake's combined relief and disappointment, the blazing fire in Zeratul's eyes subsided to a dull ember.

  "If anyone knows where to turn, Zamara, it is a preserver. You will find aid. But you will not find it here. Take the atmospheric vessel that brought you here. You have already stolen it from me. Take it to the gate and begone."

  He moved toward them, brushing past them so close that Jake felt the whisper of the soft fabric of Zeratul's robe caress his bare arm. For an instant, Jake sensed astonishment, quickly contained, from Zamara. Obviously she hadn't expected the conversation to go this way.

  "We shall depart," Zamara said, her mental voice cool and completely in control. "But this is a small world, Zeratul. If you will not deal with us now, you must do so later."

  She borrowed Jake's body and bowed. Zeratul missed the gesture; he now stood next to his makeshift dwelling, his body stiff, his back to them. He was utterly silent, his powerful mind locking down on any telltale thought.

  Jake and Zamara went to the atmospheric craft that they had, as Zeratul put it with brutal fact, stolen. Jake let Zamara operate the vessel while he sat in a corner of his own body, thoroughly stunned by the developments. Not even lifting off into the rosy sky cheered his spirits.

  Zamara—I thought you were chasing a protoss hero. That guy down there—he's a total wreck. .. .1 am aware of that.

  I... downloading your memories into a dark templar crystal was our last hope. If we don't do that I'm going to die here.

  I am aware of that, too.

  So what the hell are we going to do now?

  Utter silence. Jake felt panic well up inside him for a moment, a bright frantic flame that was quickly snuffed out by the heavy darkness of complete despair.

  They were stuck on a planet, the only other sentient being a protoss so far gone in trauma and self-pity that he was unreachable. The tumors in his brain were growing almost daily, and Zamara, the preserver, who had seen so much, who knew so much, who seemed to have all the answers, who had met every challenge with calm and aplomb, had no idea what to do about any of it.

  CHAPTER 9

  ROSEMARY WAS DOING HER DEAD LEVEL BEST TO keep from punching either the wall or her guard, and for the most part she was succeeding. But four days had ticked by—though the days here never got truly bright, there was a clear demarcation between night and day—and there was no sign of any movement.

  She was naturally a headstrong woman, but she was also smart enough and experienced enough to know when to be calm and exercise patience and when to push.

  She had been trying the former, but when the door opened and a protoss who was not her guard nor Selendis entered, she almost literally had to bite her tongue to keep from exploding at him.

  "It is I, Vartanil," the protoss said, executing a deep bow. Rosemary still had difficulty distinguishing between individual protoss, but she was getting better at it. The fact that their mental "voices" were unique helped. Her impatience faded slightly as she realized she knew this protoss.

  "You stood up for me when we came through the warp gate," she said, remembering. "You tried to convince the guards to open the gate back up so Jake could come through." He inclined his head, almost shyly. She smiled at him, the first genuine smile she'd had since setting foot on this obsessively blue planet. "Thanks."

  "I only wish I had been more convincing."

  "Well, you tried at least. And honestly, I suppose I can't blame them. To risk putting out a welcome mat for the zerg on a story they couldn't verify—I guess I understand."

  She blinked as realization struck. "Hey.. .you're here. They let you out. What happened?"

  "They assisted me in clearing the Sundrop from my system," Vartanil said. "Many sat with me, reached their minds to mine, and when I was able, comforted me via the Khala. You, Rosemary Dahl, had only Jacob and Zamara to aid you. You are strong indeed."

  Rosemary was strong, and she knew it, and the knowing wasn't egotistical. She was always keenly aware of both her strengths and weaknesses; an honest understanding of both was simply smart. But somehow, Vartanil's praise made her feel uncomfortable.

  "Yeah, well, maybe it didn't hit me as hard," she said. "I'm glad you're all right though. Did they believe you? About Jake and Zamara?"

  He nodded. "Once I was purified of the drug, I spoke with Executor Selendis herself." His mental voice held tones of awe. "She also spoke with the others. We all verified your story. She believes us."

  Rosemary's patience, stretched to the breaking point, now snapped. "Then where the hell is she? Why am I still in this damned prison?"

  "It is not a prison."

  "Where I come from, any place that you can't leave when you feel like it is a prison," Rosemary shot back.

  "Selendis is the executor. She has a great deal of responsibility. When we linked in the Khala, I sensed part of her concern—over Jacob, over Ulrezaj, over the protoss left behind. There is much she needs to weigh, to consider, before she can make a wise decision."

  Rosemary turned to him. She got the sensation that he was younger than many of the other protoss she had met, though she couldn't quite say why.

  "Vartanil... Jake's sick. Really sick. Having Zamara inside him is killing him. And if he dies, she and all that information you protoss say is so valuable dies right along with him. This should be a top priority with your people."

  Vartanil fidgeted, confirming Rosemary's theory that he was a younger individual. She'd never seen any of the other protoss fidget. They seemed totally disinclined to waste a single movement.

  "When I was released," said Vartanil, "they said I was free to go. I came here. To you. I wanted to let you know as soon as possible what had happened. And.. .1 wish to pledge my service to you."

  "Huh? To me?" She stared at him, baffled.

  He nodded eagerly. "To you—and Jacob, and Zamara. Alzadar believed in you. I fear he is dead for that belief."

  Rosemary thought about the slaughterfest she'd escaped back on Aiur and shared Vartanil's fear. Anyone who didn't get through the gate was likely dead. She was pretty sure Jake made it through—the guards did say that someone was redirected—but the thought that it might be too late for him, that it might have been too late when she stepped foot on Shakuras, made her throat tighten.

  "Alzadar chose to stay behind," she said, and cleared her throat. "He helped buy us time."

  "And he died freely, a templar to the end. Rosemary Dahl—I am not a templar. I am of Furinax lineage, a member of the Khalai caste. Before the zerg came, I was a craftsman. I carved wooden objects. I was and am proud of my skills, but I deeply regret that I am not trained in warfare, to serve you better now. But what I can do, I will."

  Yep, he was young all right, with that dreadful earnestness that only the young possessed. Still, it was oddly touching. Rosemary had had her share of admirers, but they usually all wanted something from her. What they wanted varied—money, position, or something more intimate—but it was still the same story. But this protoss—his thoughts were perhaps the purest thing she'd ever known. She shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the adulation, and decided that since it probably really wasn't directed at her but at Jake and even more so Zamara, it was okay.

  "Uh... thanks."

  He beamed at her, and she smiled back. They stood in silence, and then Rosemary said, "So...you just going to hang around then?"

  "Until we depart to find Jacob and Zamara, yes."

  She couldn't censor her thoughts well enough and he cocked his head. "You do not wish my company?"

  "It's not that, it's just—I'm ready to be going. To be doing something. Do you have any idea when Selendis will mak
e her decision?"

  "I already have," came the thought, before the door even opened to admit the executor. She looked every bit as poised and in control as she had before. Rosemary squared her shoulders and regarded theprotoss steadily.

  "And it is?"

  Selendis cocked her head and returned Rosemary's gaze. "The protoss who accompanied you have verified your story in the Khala. Even those who are not overly fond of you."

  It was meant as a sort of rebuke, but it had the opposite effect. Rosemary grinned suddenly. She was used to being disliked, and somehow, it gave her hope.

  "Well, that's good. So when do we leave?"

  "I do not know if we will depart at all. We must convince Artanis and the others that this is a worthy mission, worth taking the risk."

  Rosemary had thought that all she needed was to get this female on her side. But apparently, convincing Selendis was just the first step. Out of God knew how many.

  "I regret if you got that impression," said Selendis, answering what hadn't even been asked yet. "The final decision on such a thing involves many more than I."

  "Stop doing that!" Rosemary snapped. "Let me say my thoughts out loud, don't just barge in and read them!"

  "I apologize," the executor said unexpectedly. "I am unused to not being able to freely peruse surface thoughts. I shall not intrude uninvited again, unless I feel the need warrants it."

  "Uh...okay. Thanks." It was something, anyway. Rosemary composed herself. "I'm.. .glad you believe me." Beside her, Vartanil, who had no compunctions about his thoughts being read, was delighted.