by Jaleta Clegg
Tayvis almost smiled at that.
"Everett is tired of seeing his friends get their ships shot up by pirates and confiscated by the Patrol," Paltronis said. "He's been nice enough to let Lowell believe he's in charge."
"Lowell would never be deceived about that."
"He's good at pretending when he needs to be."
They both watched the lights for a while, listening to the waves lap quietly around them. The beach was deserted. They were the only ones standing on the sand. It was more private than anywhere else Paltronis could think of going.
"What happened to Dace on Tivor?" Tayvis asked. He finally turned to face her. "You were there, with her. I know that much, but I haven't been able to find out anything else."
"Why didn't you ask her yourself? You were on Linas-Drias when Vance brought her to that party." It was a challenge. Paltronis hated seeing Tayvis punishing himself. She hated thinking what it was doing to Dace, that Tayvis had left her with Vance.
He shook his head. "She was smiling, Paltronis. She was happy when Vance announced their engagement. She wanted it."
"You're wrong, Tayvis."
He shook his head again. "I saw her face. If she didn't want it, why didn't she say something? Why didn't she try to contact me?"
"Probably because she couldn't find you. You're very good at disappearing when you want to."
He shut her out. She sensed his withdrawal from the conversation. She wasn't going to let him slide away so easily, though.
"She found out who she was on Tivor," she said, her voice harsh. "She's Hrissia'noru. Just like Lowell, only a lot more powerful. Or at least she was."
He turned to look at her, his face shadowed in the moonless night.
"She wasn't a zero on the scales," Paltronis explained. "She was shielding herself, in self-protection. She would have scored at least a fifteen, if not higher."
He didn't move, didn't say anything.
"When the Hrissia'noru finally showed up, they gave her a choice. She could go with them and be one of their greatest empathic telepaths ever, or she could give it all up to come back here. She chose to give it all up, because it would mean losing everything she ever cared about."
"When did Vance come into the picture?" His voice was hard and gave nothing away.
"She still thought you were dead. We all did, until we were off Tivor. Lowell promised to tell her as soon as she came out of the coma, but Vance got to her first."
"Coma?" That surprised him. It surprised Paltronis that he didn't know.
"She was shot. The Hrissia'noru saved her. They were the only ones who could." She couldn't help the bitterness in her voice. It was her fault Dace had been shot. She shook off the guilt. Tayvis deserved to know the whole truth, however painful. "She isn't the same person, Tayvis."
"That's obvious." He turned away, shutting her out again.
"Lowell sent Scholar to help her," Paltronis said.
"What? She needs help getting married?"
"Will you let it go and listen? She's working undercover, tracking down the conspiracy on Linas-Drias."
He shook his head. "She isn't that good at acting. She's marrying Vance. I saw them together."
"You can be so blind, Tayvis."
"You're the one who said she changed." He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "She made her choice, Paltronis. The best thing I can do is stay out of her way."
"And protect yourself, even if means losing her permanently?"
"I've already lost." He sounded so forlorn Paltronis didn't know whether to slap him or hug him.
"I threatened to hurt her once, if she ever broke your heart."
"I know. I heard about it."
"You broke your own heart this time."
He winced. "You never did pull your punches, Paltronis."
"And you swore once that you'd never leave yourself vulnerable again." She shrugged. "We all change. Whether we want to or not. Give Dace a chance to explain."
"It's over, Paltronis. Let it go. She's gone."
She wanted to argue with him. She wanted to tell him that he was breaking her heart over it. She didn't know how. He would always belong to Dace, whether she belonged to him or not. Dace belonged here with him, not on Linas-Drias with Vance.
"Tayvis, she didn't know you were still alive."
"She knows, Paltronis. And she still chose Vance." He faced away from her, towards the restless waters. She almost didn't hear his last comment. "She's just like every other woman I've ever known."
Paltronis cocked her head to one side. "Including me?"
He turned back towards her, startled into actually looking at her.
"What is it you think all women are after?"
"It's easy to forget about you, Paltronis. I'm so used to seeing your uniform and weapons."
"Just like all the other men? You're so intimidated by me you overlook the fact that I'm still a woman." She folded her arms and glared. "So what is it you think women want? Why are you so sure Dace dumped you for Vance?"
He struggled to find words. She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him around, refusing to let him run away. She wanted an answer. She wanted him to think, to question. She wanted him to believe in Dace and trust her motives, hidden as they were.
"Give them a choice," Tayvis said, his voice strained with emotion, "they'll choose the one with more money, better social standing, whatever. Look at Vance. Next to the Emperor's son, he's the one the women want. Because of who he is, who his parents are."
"What do you think you are? Garbage from some slummy alleyway behind a bar?"
He flinched away from her.
"Who do you think Dace is? When did she ever care about all that?"
"You said she had changed."
"Not that much," Paltronis said, shaking her head.
"You never talked to her, did you? You said Lowell was going to after she woke up from the coma, but you never did."
"Sometimes, Tayvis, you can be so perceptive. And sometimes you can be so dense. No, I haven't talked to her personally since she woke up. Vance got to her too quickly. But, she would never dump you like that."
"She did. She saw me at the party. The look of guilt on her face was too plain. She didn't say anything when Vance joined her. She stood there with him, leaning on him. She's made her choice and nothing I do will change it. If she's happy, I won't interfere."
"What if she isn't?"
Tayvis turned away from her, jamming his hands savagely into his pockets. He walked away, down the beach, his shoulders slumped, his head down. He'd given up on Dace.
Paltronis wanted to beat sense into him. She balled her hands into fists, fighting the urge. It wouldn't do any good. He wasn't going to listen to her, no matter what she did. He was going to walk away, and let Dace marry Vance. It would kill him, slowly but surely. It was ripping her apart to know she couldn't do anything about it.
She blinked hot tears away, a reflexive habit. It blurred vision, making her vulnerable to attack. She knew she was safe here, but watching Tayvis made her too aware of her own vulnerable spots.
She hadn't seen or heard from Beryn in months. She needed him, she wanted him standing beside her, offering his support. She knew exactly how Tayvis felt. What if Beryn had found someone else while he was away?
She was too much like Tayvis. She kept herself aloof, to protect herself from the pain of caring. But she did care, no matter how strongly she tried to deny it. She cared about Tayvis, and Lowell, and Dace, and the whole crew of the Phoenix. She cared, and she would have been much poorer if she'd never opened herself to them. But it cut both ways.
She couldn't watch him any more. She turned back to the complex of buildings. She had to hold on to the belief that Beryn was still hers. The thought of losing him left her aching and hollow inside.
She turned at the door. The bright lights made it impossible to see Tayvis on the beach. She promised herself that as soon as Lowell got word about Dace, any word, Tayvis would be the fi
rst to hear it.
Just maybe, she could fix things between Tayvis and Dace. She couldn't bear watching either of them go through any more pain.
Chapter 47
I watched the sun rise over the desert. I stretched, feeling the rich fabric of my nightclothes. It was familiar enough to be second nature. I closed my eyes, trying to remember faces. Try as I might, I couldn't remember what Clark really looked like, I couldn't remember the details of my father's face. The only face I still saw clearly in my mind was Jasyn. Even Tayvis was fading. That realization hurt.
I turned my back on the spreading angry light of morning. I stripped off the nightgown, dropping it on the floor. The servants would clean it up later. I pulled on whatever clothes I touched. They were all expensive fabrics, expensive designer cuts and colors. They were fabrics I would have loved years earlier, before they became too familiar.
I slipped out of my room and down the stairs. The house was quiet. Early morning rarely saw Vance or his friends. His mother kept to herself until later in the day.
I was determined to get inside her study and find something, anything, to incriminate her and let me leave with my integrity intact. I'd agreed to find the traitors. I had to look.
The door to the study was closed and locked. I pulled a bit of stiff wire out of my sleeve. I found it in the flowers on the table last night. The wire was not as good as a real lockpick and I was out of practice. It took a long two minutes to pick the lock and slip inside.
Sunlight seeped past the shades drawn over the windows. I needed to find something and quickly.
A glint of light off the far wall caught my eye. I crossed the room and knelt in front of the spot. I ran my fingers over it. There was a hidden button. I pushed it. A keypad slid out of the wall, just at the right height to be comfortable if I were sitting. A screen glowed blue, set in the wall behind the paneling.
A smile crawled over my face, a cruel twist of my mouth. I wiped it off with the back of one hand. I was becoming too much like Lady Candyce and Ginger and all the others. I didn't want to be like them. Ever.
I entered a file inquiry into the pad. I got a long list of innocuous sounding names. I clicked on a few at random. They were household accounts. I didn't have time to wade through the whole pile. Lady Candyce wouldn't keep records of her treasonous activities out in the open anyway. She wasn't stupid, but she was predictable.
I changed the inquiry to coded and protected files. The list was somewhat shorter. The names were cryptic. I read through the list. The names were more obvious than Lady Candyce intended them to be.
The computer wanted a password before it would open the files. This wasn't my area. This was where I needed Scholar and Clark. I tried the name of the butler. I tried her name. I tried any other name I could think of. None of them worked.
I swore under my breath. I almost had the information I needed, but time was slipping away. Clark had shown me once how to open a back door into a file. I accessed the programming that should have made it possible. The computer beeped. The screen dimmed and cleared. The file opened.
I leaned forward eagerly to read it.
It was gibberish. From the words I could decipher, it appeared to deal with some kind of society group she belonged to.
I heard footsteps in the hall outside. I wiped the screen and turned the computer off. The keypad slid back into the wall. The door was opening. I ducked under the desk, hiding and not sure why I bothered.
I watched Georges' black shoes cross the carpet to the far side of the room. The shades rolled up with a soft humming sound. Sunlight flooded the room. The black shoes crossed soundlessly in front of me as I crouched under the desk. Georges paused near the wall. He was silent for a very long time. The shoes left quickly, hurrying out of the room.
I bolted, making my escape while I could. I hurried out of the office and down the hall. I made it to the main entrance to the house before I saw anyone. I slowed down and pretended I'd just come down the stairs from my room. The maid gave me a funny look, but said nothing as she continued her cleaning.
I was shaking, my heart racing. I took a deep breath before I pushed open the door to the dining room. I smoothed my face, acting deliberately casual.
I shouldn't have bothered. No one was there. I helped myself to breakfast and sat down to eat.
I took my time, waiting for someone to join me. Someone usually did, eventually. This morning, I ate by myself, though the sun was rising high in the sky outside.
The house remained silent. I wandered out of the dining room. I walked the halls, wondering why it felt so empty. I heard voices near the front entry and hurried that way.
Vance's mother stood near the front door. Georges was closing it. I heard a flitter lifting away outside. Vance's mother glanced over at me. I tried not to shiver at the menace in her face.
"Vance has been called away." Her voice carried and echoed through the vaulted entry. "His presence as Second Speaker was required." She put a subtle emphasis on his title. "His friends have gone home. Most left last night. They were sorry you were not there to wish them good journey."
I hadn't known they were leaving. Why was she trying to make me feel guilty about it? I was glad they were gone. Vance knew I was here. He could have waited for me to say goodbye.
Lady Candyce watched me with cold eyes. I shivered.
"It seems you and I will be here alone for a while. What an opportunity to get to know each other better."
"We can finish planning the wedding," I said, determined not to let her intimidate me. I could play the game better than she could, or so I tried to convince myself.
"The time would be better spent in polishing your manners," Lady Candyce said. "They are really quite unacceptable."
"I look forward to the lessons."
"Then we will begin immediately."
I should have bit my tongue, not that it would have done any good. I spent most of the day in a room with Georges and one of the maids and an old fossil of a woman. She had a short wooden stick that she cracked across my hands any time I did something incorrectly. Georges enjoyed every slap of wood on flesh. The corners of his eyes crinkled every time she hit me.
I would have taken the stick away from her if I thought it would do any good. I was still playing a part. I pretended to want to know how to sit correctly and how to hold the dainty cup and saucer she made me practice with. I pretended while my hands stung and my pride suffered. I promised myself full revenge on Lady Candyce someday. Maybe I would marry Vance just to spite her.
I didn't see Lady Candyce again until evening. She sent me to my room without supper, telling me I hadn't worked hard enough. I went without argument. I could always slip down later and raid the kitchen.
Georges walked me up to my room, a silent shadow two steps behind me. He opened the door to my room for me and waited until I crossed the threshold.
"Lady Candyce values her privacy," he said as he pulled the door shut. I heard the lock click in the door.
It wasn't a problem. I could pick the lock. It was an open declaration of war between us, or as close as I was going to get. I took out the wire and inserted it in the lock.
I found myself staring at the ceiling, flat on my back halfway across the room. The wire was twisted and blackened in my hand. The lock looked the same as before. I slowly pulled my knees up and wrapped my arms around them. The wire fell from my fingers to the floor.
The lock was charged. I wouldn't have been able to pick it even with the sophisticated lockpicks I'd once owned. It wasn't as obvious as a force shield around the door, but it was just as effective.
I looked around the room, seeing it differently. It wasn't a suite of comfortable rooms anymore. It was a very cleverly disguised prison. There was no other way out. Lady Candyce held me at her mercy.
Or so she thought. I fought away the helpless anger surging through me. She wasn't going to win, not this easily. I'd been a slave and I'd survived. I'd been beaten and tortured and held
prisoner before. Lady Candyce was not going to win. I was strong. I was going to survive.
And I was going to win. I was going to find out why she locked me up. I was going to find her secrets. I was going to ruin her.
The glittering ring on my finger caught my eye. What about Vance? What would it do to him if I destroyed his mother's reputation? He cared about her. I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't see any way to avoid it. The whole engagement was a farce.
Or at least it was supposed to be. It had become much too real. I buried my face in my hands and wished I were anywhere else but here.
Chapter 48
"She was in the files," Lady Candyce said coldly. "I want to know which ones and why. You told me she was no threat."
Georges shuffled his feet, just enough to show penitence for his mistake. "There was no indication she was lying. Master Vance supported her claims. He appears to care for her."
"I will never understand why. She's gutter trash."
"I believe she will leave if given the choice. She did try only a few days past."
Lady Candyce shook her perfectly groomed head. Her hair flowed exactly where it should, settling into place without effort. "Things have gone beyond the point where she can just walk away. I would have offered her money, but she would not have taken it."
"She could just disappear."
"She has people watching for her. No, even if you could make it look an accident, she can't just disappear. The media is hounding me enough as it is." She spread her hands on her desktop. "Zeresthina has to die, in a public way, one that will never throw suspicion on me. Where are her medical files?"
"They will be delivered tomorrow. The medic claims the test results weren't verified yet."
"We have to find a reason, Georges. She has to go. I cannot abide her presence here any longer."
"So far, there are no indications of a medical problem."
"Then bribe the medic to invent one. I want her funeral to be held within a week. I don't want suspicions about her death. Not even from Vance." She frowned, ugly lines marking her face. "Why couldn't he have just had his way with her and left her in the gutter where she belongs?"
