Jericho Falling

by Jaleta Clegg

  My stomach rumbled. I was starving, a reaction to fear that was becoming much too common. "You're going to have stomach trouble if you don't share."

  Mart passed me the bag. "You can have mine. I'm not hungry. It should be just down there."

  We turned into the street. The pastry in the bag was squashed. I didn't care. I did feel guilty about eating it. Mart was still too thin. I compromised and broke it in half. I passed the bag back to Mart. He didn't comment.

  We walked down the street, eating pastries and licking sugar from our fingers. Imposing mansions loomed behind thick fences and walls. Mart checked numbers as we went past. We caught glimpses of fountains and courtyards through wrought iron gates.

  The noon heat reflected from the pavement. The farther we walked the fewer people we saw. I was nervous again. We looked like we didn't belong. Someone was bound to notice us and call in the police soon.

  Mart finally stopped, staring at a gate made of wood instead of iron. We had no idea what lay on the other side. The gate was at least eight feet high, almost as high as the wall on either side. There was nothing, other than the number, to mark it. Mart looked at the paper a final time then handed it to me.

  "This is it," he said.

  "We have no idea what it is." I said.

  "Are you sure about this?" Beryn asked.

  "What else can we do?"

  "Find Family and claim sanctuary," Beryn said. "A little late for that now."

  "We don't have a chance of getting into the port," I said. "We didn't have a chance as soon as those black flitters showed up."

  "We could have nailed ourselves into a crate and shipped as cargo," Beryn said.

  "In a vacuum hold," I shot back.

  Mart rang the bell impatiently. We heard a faint chiming.

  "No one home," Beryn said. "Let's go." He was acting as nervous as I felt.

  "Wait," Mart commanded. His voice was deeper, more sure. I shivered despite the heat. The last time he talked in that voice he'd admitted to killing children.

  I saw a police cruiser turn down the far end of the street. It crept leisurely towards us, as if we hadn't been spotted yet. I muttered a curse. Beryn looked down the street and used a worse one.

  Mart squared his jaw and pressed his hand to the lockplate. The light blinked green and the gate slid open. Mart's jaw dropped open. He stared at his hand. Beryn and I grabbed him and hustled him through the gate. Beryn slapped the controls as soon as we were through. The gate slid shut.

  "Too close," I said.

  We were in a broad courtyard fronted on three sides by open rooms. The wall across the front, with the gate in the middle, was hidden behind a screen of trees and vines carefully trained to grow in a thick mat of green dotted with various flowers. A single tree spread shade across most of the courtyard. A miniature waterfall murmured between two of the rooms. A bird chirped drowsily overhead. The only sign it wasn't deserted was a book left open on a chair under the spreading tree.

  "Now what?" Beryn whispered.

  We all jumped at the sound of a door closing somewhere inside the sprawling mansion. Footsteps pattered across tile floors. A woman appeared in a doorway. She was short, her hair a wild dandelion of silver. She was young, though. She wore a simple white dress that drifted around her ankles as she hurried towards us. Fluttering creatures danced and sparkled in her hair. She smiled, her nose crinkling. I knew her. We'd found the maker of the jeweled necklaces.

  "Welcome," she said in a breathless, tiny voice. She held out one delicate hand.

  I saw her eyes then, silver eyes almost as familiar as my own. The connections slammed open in my mind. Possibilities linked scattered bits of knowledge. Pieces of the puzzle connected in ways I'd never expected. I knew those silver eyes, although the last time I'd looked into them, they were in Lowell's face.

  No, not the same eyes. Only the same silver, the same slight build, the same silvery pale hair. Lowell's note, the necklaces, the trap, all began to make sense.

  It was more than I wanted to deal with. My brain shut down. The world went fuzzy. The last thing I saw was the alarmed look on her face as I sprawled on the paving stones at her feet.

  I woke a few minutes later and was embarrassed to find them all crouched over me looking concerned. The woman held one hand in an odd gesture and waved it over my face. She cocked her head to the side and gave me a quizzical look. She stood, examining her hand.

  "Bad pastry," Beryn said, offering his hand to me.

  Pain ripped through my head. I grabbed my ears, trying to keep my head from exploding. I was dimly aware of the paving stones rough on my cheek. The woman passed her hand over me, something glowing on her palm. A spark of golden light ran from my father's ring down my arm. The pain faded.

  "What in space was that?" I gasped. I felt drained, sucked dry of energy.

  "Ho aritruria," the woman said firmly.

  I saw a faint shimmer of silver at the edges of my vision. The woman stood, her gown and hair dancing with energy. She lifted both hands, palms out, raising them slowly until they were over her head. She looked up at the clear noon sky.

  "Tri a tuoru," she said and brought her hands together. The shimmering vanished along with the last of the pain. She lowered her hands and was once more the fluttery, breathless woman who had given me the gift of a jeweled necklace.

  Beryn helped me find my feet. I was dizzy and light headed. Mart was just as pale, though he hadn't ended up sprawled on the ground. His mouth was set, his lips stretched into a thin line. His eyes were haunted.

  "You will wish to rest," the woman said. "Be welcome here, in the House of Yllissirua. I am Ti'uro. We have been expecting you." She cocked her head, watching Beryn now. "But not three. You are not of the Hrissia'noru. Your zhria tastes different, something I have not felt before." She lifted a hand towards his head. He jerked back. I wobbled, searching for my balance. Ti'uro looked guilty. "I am so sorry, almost I forget my duty. Please, come. You will be safe here. For a time."

  "I think she's nuts," Beryn whispered as he helped me lurch my way across the courtyard.

  I felt weak and muzzy and had no idea what had just happened. Considering the weird things I'd fallen into before, this really wasn't much different. I just pretended I was dreaming again. It helped.

  Ti'uro brought us to a wide room, cool with shade. The whole front of it opened onto the courtyard. There were low couches and cushions scattered around the room. A single low table was the only hard surface besides the floor.

  "Please, be comfortable," Ti'uro invited. "I will fetch you refreshments." She made another strange gesture as she fluttered away.

  I didn't wait. I sank onto a couch and lay back. Mart paced around the room twice before he allowed himself to sit on a cushion. Even then he was tense, coiled like an engine spring under tension.

  Beryn dragged a cushion next to me and sat. He studied me, his eyes hooded and giving nothing away. He finally sighed. "I give up. Who is she and how do you know her?"

  "The necklaces. She's the one who made them." My eyes were heavy. I was having a hard time keeping them open.

  "And what just happened? You conveniently fainted, which isn't like you."

  "I did not faint," I said through a yawn that cracked my jaws. "Someone reached into my head and rearranged things."

  "What?" Beryn burst out.

  My eyes popped open. My stomach lurched at the thought. I sat up and wished I hadn't. My stomach heaved and my head spun. I fought my body back under control. I held up my hands and stared at the rings on them. The rowan ring was just as heavy and just as inert as it should be. My father's wedding ring, though, had a faint shimmer around it that I only saw when I looked away. Golden sparkling light. Another thought connected in my head. I looked over at Mart. He was watching me intently.

  I met his gaze and read the knowledge there. Whatever barriers he had in his mind were breaking. He remembered and he didn't like what he knew. He looked away, down at his hands that hung lim
p and lifeless between his knees.

  "Mart," I said, wanting him to look at me, to talk to me, to explain to me why the connection Larella had severed was remade. I held up my left hand, the one with my father's wedding ring. "You know what happened. Tell me."

  "I don't know," he said savagely. "I should know, I remember that much, but I can't. It's gone, Dace. My life, my mind, was ripped open and things were removed and I will never get them back. What she did was familiar, as familiar as eating with a fork, but I can't remember how. Don't ask me to explain. I can't." The last tore from him, an unwilling admission of his failure. I felt it through the link between us. Every line of his body spoke of despair.

  I squeezed my hand into a fist and dropped it back in my lap.

  Beryn glanced between us, first me, then Mart, then me again. Over and over. He wanted answers. So did I.

  Ti'uro came back, carrying a tray which she set on the table. She lifted a fanciful silver pitcher. The side was frosted with condensation. Thick juice of a pale pink flowed into wide silver goblets shaped like engine exhaust ports. She poured three goblets and, still without a word, handed them to the three of us.

  Mart took his and stared blankly at it. I sniffed the juice. It had a very faint grassy smell and a hint of something sweet. Beryn looked suspiciously at his.

  "Drink, it will clear your mind of the last effects of the irushiyama." She may as well have spoken in another language. Her hair and the jeweled creatures drifted and swayed like the finest strands of silk. I didn't remember the hair from before. She smiled, nothing but humor in her silver eyes. "I kept it braided then," she answered my unspoken question.

  "How did you know?" I demanded an answer. "You can't read my mind. Or can you?"

  "No, you are of the notu'zhri," she said as if it explained everything. "I saw you watching it. Do you not remember me?"

  "I remember." I lifted the goblet and sipped. My mouth was dry as dust, my head felt too big for my neck. The juice was thick and cold and bland. But it eased the strangeness inside me.

  A bell chimed softly outside the room. Ti'uro fluttered to her feet. "Rest. Until moonrise," she said and fluttered away.

  "This is too weird," Beryn said. "One moment we're running for our lives, next minute we're being offered juice and a place to sleep. I didn't understand half of what she said. Did you?" He looked at me.

  For some reason, his comments were the funniest things I'd ever heard. I giggled. I toppled over onto the cushions. I was vaguely aware of him taking my empty goblet away. My eyes slid shut. Whether I wanted to or not, I was going to sleep.

  Beryn grabbed my shoulder and shook me. I tried to open my eyes. I giggled again.

  "They drugged us, Dace," he said. "Wake up. We have to get out of here, now, while we still can."

  "We can't," Mart said tiredly. "You may as well give in, Beryn. Trust them. They don't mean us harm. Unlike the others. I remember that much." His voice was bitter. "Go ahead and drink. The juice can't affect you any more than normal juice would. She's not drugged, just a bit drunk."

  That explained the giggling, I thought fuzzily. I giggled again at the thought. It was the last one I had for a while.

  Chapter 18

  "Leave? Now?" Jerimon gaped at Jasyn. "You can't be serious."

  "Shut up and strap in or get out and stay here," Jasyn said tightly. She was furious, at Dace for not explaining, although Jasyn understood Dace hadn't had time or privacy. She was angry at Jerimon for acting stupid. She shoved him aside and sat in the navigator's chair. Clark was already warming up the engines.

  "Are you flying or not?" Jasyn snarled at her brother. She hated the danger, hated knowing Dace was running again. She was angry at a universe that kept tangling them with enemies they did nothing to deserve. She was angry at the Fates that dictated danger at every turn. She was scared to death for Dace and Beryn. She was angry and upset at Lady Rina for dying. She lashed out at Jerimon. He was handy.

  Jerimon flared his nostrils and pinched his lips shut, but he sat in the copilot's chair. Larella slipped in behind him and sat in the scanning chair. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

  Jasyn called up the port office. "This is the Phoenix," she said when they answered. "We have an emergency. We're leaving. Now."

  "We have orders to lock down the port," the man on the other end answered. "You will shut down your engines and remain—"

  "We came here expecting to be safe," Jasyn snapped, cutting across his unnecessary orders. "Half of our crew are running for their lives. You want to explain that?"

  "Your crew is known for causing trouble," the man said. "You will remain or you will be charged—"

  "We're leaving. You've been paid. And now you've been warned." She cut the signal. "Get us out of here before they can call in reinforcements."

  She didn't need to. Clark was already lifting the ship, gunning the engines and squeezing every ounce of power he could out of them. She typed in a course for Ophir, the planet where Scholar held court with his band of teenage misfits. Why Dace chose that planet, Jasyn had no idea. It was a long jump, one that would push their ship, but she set the course anyway.

  "Cruisers are after us," Jerimon said, glancing back at the scanning screen. "We're pirates again."

  "You could have stayed behind."

  Larella surprised her by smacking Jerimon across the back of his head. "We do what is necessary." She turned to Jasyn, her eyes solemn and scared. "We don't go back and help them?"

  "We can't," Jasyn said. "Not without getting into so much trouble ourselves that we'd be stuck there for life. Dace said to head for Ophir. She'll meet us there. Somehow." She made herself believe it. After everything she'd seen Dace manage, she'd be there. No matter how bad the odds, Dace managed to beat them. She had to cling to the belief that Dace's luck was still good, at least for getting out of trouble. Her luck at staying out of trouble was bad, not her luck at staying alive, in one piece.

  Clark poured on the power. The Phoenix roared, her engines running at capacity for the first time. With empty holds they leapt forward, gaining speed at an incredible rate.

  "Jump point," Jasyn said.

  Clark hit the slider. They trembled and slid into hyperspace, the ship vibrating. They were moving too fast. It took a moment for the turbulence to clear and the engines to settle. Jasyn sighed and slumped back in her chair.

  "Eight days," she said.

  "Long jump," Clark said. "Where are we going?"

  "Ophir."

  "Why?"

  "Because Dace said to meet her there."

  "I tapped into their datanet before we left," Clark said. "I've got all sorts of information they don't know we have."

  "We've got the Patrol after us now," Jerimon said. "And this time we can't blame it on organized crime."

  "You'd be surprised what we can do," Clark said. "Relax, Jerimon. Learn to live a little. Take a bit of risk. Quit worrying about rules. They were made to be bent."

  "You know, Dace was right," Jasyn said, forcing herself to relax. "She said you only obeyed the rules when they were in your favor, but you expected everyone else to follow them. She also said you had an overrated opinion of authority. Shall we let you run to Patrol?"

  "And turn myself in? I'm thinking about it," Jerimon said.

  "Then why didn't you? I gave you the chance to leave. You could have stayed on Shamustel." Jasyn studied her brother, realizing that for all the time she'd been flying with him, she still didn't know him very well.

  "And miss all the fun? We'll just have to emigrate to the Federation when this is over," he said, referring to the only real government besides the Empire on this side of the galaxy.

  "Be my guest," Jasyn said. "I think I'll try Dace's method of making Lowell feel guilty. He's got power. He'll fix it, or he'll deal with me."

  "We have to find him first," Clark said.

  "So we go to Ophir and start looking," Jasyn said. "That's where he told Dace to take Mart."

&nb
sp; "I like the way you think," Clark said.

  "A Crystals game," Jasyn said, "only the stakes are higher."

  "And not all of us want to play," Jerimon muttered.

  "I say we lock him in his cabin," Larella said. "He's getting on my nerves."

  Jasyn watched her brother wilt. He swiveled his chair, knocking into Clark and not even noticing it.

  "I'm sorry, Larella," Jerimon said. "It's the stress. I spent a year in prison. I don't want to go back."

  Larella's eyes were wide with sympathy and curiosity. "What did you do?"

  Jasyn rolled her eyes and left the cockpit. Clark followed her. She sat at the table, all her bravado used up. Tears stung her eyes. All the despair she fought flooded through her. She sagged, her chin on her hands. Clark put his hand on her shoulder, warm and comforting.

  "She's got Beryn with her," Clark said.

  "If he's anything like Caid, I feel sorry for whoever's chasing her." Jasyn made an effort and pushed the despair away. "Here we are again, scrambling for our lives. I don't know how much more I can take."

  "Think of how dull life would be." Clark took a seat next to her and pulled out a deck of cards. They were never far away on the ship.

  "Think of how calm it would be. Think of how much cheaper it would be not to have to keep paying bribes. Think of how much nicer it would be to not be nervous whenever we spot a Patrol cruiser heading our way."

  He laughed. "Lowell's behind this, we'll get out and everything will be fine."

  "Do you really believe that?"

  "Do you?"

  "I don't know what to believe," she said.

  He dealt the cards. She picked up her hand. They heard Larella giggle.

  "I believe your brother has finally found someone to appreciate him," Clark said as he sorted his cards.

  "I think they deserve each other." She played a card.

  "I think you're right." Clark picked up her card and added it to his hand. He discarded a different one.

  "Are you sorry you married me?" Jasyn asked as she drew another card. "You didn't have to get involved."