“You—you are the one who has done this?” It was a statement, not a question. The content of it did not surprise her, but what did startle her was his voice. Ethan Stewart’s vocal cords had been altered not at all by his transformation. His voice was totally and completely human, although he obviously was not, and she delighted in its smooth richness.
“I am,” she said, her own voice reverberating and strong and changed by her own transformation. “I am Kerrigan, the Queen of Blades. I have made you to serve me and be my companion.”
She touched his mind briefly, giving him the barest taste of her mental power. She was not surprised to find more than a hint of insanity lurking in his brain. Psi-screens did that.
She’d touched mad minds before. When she was human—when she was weak—she had found such contact to be abhorrent. Traumatic. Now, in this form, she found it intriguing. Parts of Ethan’s brain had been permanently ruined, but there was enough there for her to control and to manipulate. She would dispatch him with no compunction if he proved of no use to her, and she let him know that as well.
He regarded her thoughtfully, his twin scythe arms flexing and unflexing. For a moment, she sensed a possible hint of a challenge.
She let him see how she would dispatch him.
Anger, then humor, then respect.
She walked to him then, slowly, remembering how to use her body to its best advantage, and his eyes flickered over her. She knew he found her beautiful. Kerrigan stood beside him, a breath away, and reached to touch his face with the claw of her index finger.
“You have wanted to excel,” she murmured. “You have wanted power. Your body is superior to that of any human male, and if you serve me well and loyally, I will give you power beyond your wildest dreams.”
“I should warn you that my dreams,” he said in that rich, silky voice, “can be rather wild indeed.”
Kerrigan smiled. “I looked into your mind. I know. Perhaps I should put it another way. Serve me or die.”
She felt only the faintest flicker of fear. Already, now that he understood her, he trusted her. “I will serve you with my life. What would you have me do first, my queen?”
Kerrigan smiled, well pleased. “Tell me everything you know about Professor Jacob Ramsey.”
Something had gone wrong.
Jake had suspected something, but had let himself be reassured by Zamara and her … well, her logic. But it had now been two days since they were supposed to rendezvous with Rosemary, and he was almost frantic with worry.
“I shouldn’t have let her go down there by herself,” he said for the umpteenth time. They were heading back to the burrowlike entrance to the chambers where they had last seen her, walking down into the darkness with a sure stride and a quick grin. He feared now that he would never see her again.
“Jacob,” Ladranix said gently in his mind, “there was no other choice. We must get into those chambers; Zamara has made that very clear. We needed to know if it was safe to proceed. Rosemary has the most experience in such matters.”
At least the protoss hadn’t used the past tense. Jake buried his head in his hands, rubbing at his aching temples. It seemed the headaches were increasing in frequency, becoming chronic rather than intermittent. Further compounding his worry, they were risking discovery. They had been very lucky indeed that it hadn’t happened ere now. Jake knew that soon the protoss would give up hope altogether; it would be too risky to come back every night as they had done twice now.
And they would consign Rosemary to her fate.
Jake had always found the woman attractive. They had begun their relationship in mild conflict. When Rosemary had betrayed him and his team to Valerian, Jake had despised her. But he’d developed a grudging respect for the assassin as time went on, and when he had brushed her mind in an experience which was the closest human beings had ever come to the Khala, he’d been staggered by her will and sheer gutsiness. He knew he could never hate her again after that, no matter what she did. Since that moment, she’d proved trustworthy. And now that she might be dead because of something he’d put her up to, he realized that he had come to care for her very much. A word that began with L and wasn’t “loathe” danced around the edge of his mind.
It is entirely possible that you are falling in love with her, yes, Zamara agreed as Jake practically leaped out of the vessel and hastened to the entrance.
Jake winced. I was trying not to think that.
You all but shout it, Jacob, she said, not unkindly. I too hope she is unharmed. But if she is not, understand that she sacrificed her life for something very important.
Anger, fueled by worry and guilt and the now-constant headache, flared inside him. Damn it, Zamara, you keep hinting and hinting and never saying anything. I might feel the way you do if I knew what the hell you were—
Jacob. She approaches.
Sure enough, Jake reached out and sensed Rosemary’s presence. Rosemary, are you all right?
I thought I told you to stay the hell out of my thoughts, and I’m fine. I’ll be right there.
He laughed aloud at that. Yes, if the biggest worry she had was him poking around in her brain, he didn’t need to worry about her. The relief was almost overwhelming. Jake started down the steps two at a time, and almost collided with Rosemary halfway down.
“Hey,” he said lamely. “We were worried about you.”
She looked tired, but otherwise well. “Yeah, for a while I was worried about me too,” she said as they ascended. “The walkie-talkie stopped working pretty much once I got past the doorway. I tried to contact you and got nothing.”
“We tried to contact you too,” Jake said. “When we didn’t hear anything—I got worried.”
She gave him a quick glance with those blue eyes and made an annoyed sound. “Your confidence is overwhelming. I’ve been completely fine.”
“Then why did you miss the rendezvous two nights in a row?” he countered, a bit stung that his concern had been met with such obvious scorn.
“I got cut off from the entrance. A whole bunch of the Tal’darim came and squatted there for a while. I have no idea what was going on, but I had to hide in a corridor for some time. After a while they moved on and I was able to continue investigating.” They had reached the top now, and she made a beeline for the vessel.
“What did you learn?” Ladranix inquired.
She didn’t answer immediately, instead hopped lithely into the ship and settled into the seat. Ladranix did not press, but Jake, curious, couldn’t hold his tongue. “Rosemary?”
Rosemary sighed and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s guarded. Heavily. Don’t know that they quite understand what it is they’re guarding, but there’s no way you’re getting in without a fight. A big one.”
She spoke without looking at them at first, then turned her blue gaze to Jake. “Is there some other way Zamara can get us out of here?”
I do not need to access the innermost chambers to escape this world, Zamara told Jake. You know this. There is another reason entirely.
One which you’re not going to share with me, Jake thought. He was both resigned and irritated, but whether with Rosemary or Zamara, he couldn’t tell.
True. But you must understand, Jacob, that it is of vital importance. What is in those caverns is as important to me as rendering the warp gate functional.
There was no mistaking the sincerity in her thoughts, nor the urgency that tinged it. Jake blinked a little bit.
Okay then … but what do we do now?
I … do not know. We must question Rosemary more thoroughly. It is imperative that I—that you—enter the chambers as soon as possible.
We’ll talk to her, but not until after she’s had a chance to rest, Jake said, surprising himself at the vehemence of the thought.
Agreed, said Zamara unexpectedly. If she has been forced to hide as she says she has, then she is weary. She has been trained well, she will not forget details upon sleep. Rest may indeed sharpen her r
ecall.
“Is there anything to eat or drink?” Rosemary said, fighting a yawn. She leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes briefly. Blue veins were clearly visible on her eyelids, and there were dark smudges under her eyes. She definitely did look tired, Jake thought. Tired and almost fragile. He had a sudden very strong urge to pull her into his arms and let her rest her head on his chest while she slept. He turned pink, knowing that Zamara was reading his thoughts and wondering if the other protoss were too.
What’s the rush to get in there, Zamara? I mean, I don’t want to be a zerg snack any more than anyone else does, and this is hardly a romp in the park, but has something changed?
There is nothing you need to worry about, Jacob. I have it all under control. But I must get in, and soon.
Ladranix gestured, and some sammuro fruit was brought forward as the ship quickly lifted off. Jake nudged Rosemary, and she started. He realized that she’d drifted off in that short period of time.
“No water, but the fruit is juicy,” he said, offering it to her. She smiled tiredly and took it, fishing for a knife to peel it.
“Thanks,” she said. She lifted her gaze to his and held it for a moment. “You’ve been good to me, Jake. Better than I expected, considering … well, everything.”
His heart turned over, and he gave her a lopsided smile.
Her own smile widened and she turned her attention to the fruit, peeling it quickly and popping some of the moist purple flesh into her mouth. “Oh God, that’s good,” she said. “I had the rations, but … well, you know.”
He did, recalling the days they had spent together eating nothing but military-issue rations while they eluded Valerian’s net. It was then that he’d started to shed some of his mistrust and hatred of her, and begun to share some of what he was experiencing with Zamara. To his surprise, he found he recalled those days with a hint of nostalgia.
She offered him a slice of the fruit, dripping with dark purple juice, but he waved it off, happier in her delight of the sammuro than he would have been in eating it himself. A thin trickle of purple fluid escaped her Cupid’s bow lips, and Rosemary wiped it away with a forefinger, sucking the moisture. Jake watched, mesmerized.
Be careful in this, Jacob, Zamara said in his mind. But he knew, and therefore she knew, that any warning of this sort was coming far too late.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THEY PERMITTED ROSEMARY SOME SLEEP, AND then the planning began in earnest. Maps were drawn, most of them from Zamara’s memory, detailed and perfect and precisely to scale. Despite everything she’d already seen them do, Rosemary marveled at it. She watched and listened closely, observing Jake closest of all. She wished she knew what to look for in a protoss, but although she was a skilled student and a keen observer of human nature, she hadn’t been trained to analyze aliens. Just terrans.
Jake had changed a great deal since the first time she’d met him on the Gray Tiger, and not for the worse, either. She’d not been overly impressed with him then, and not for some time. Rosemary had been a bit surprised when he’d cracked the code and figured out a way into the temple’s heart, and her respect for him had gone up several notches. He’d weathered the melding of an alien intelligence with his own shockingly well. She didn’t think she’d have adjusted so smoothly. He hadn’t liked what Zamara had done with Marcus back on the ship, though, and it was at that point that she realized that she could respect and understand the protoss inside him as well as the man who housed it. Zamara had done what needed doing, and hadn’t been squeamish about it. And when Zamara and Jake had combined to dispatch Randall so handily—well, she hadn’t been displeased to have him at her back. Him. Zamara. Them. Damn, it got confusing.
Rosemary suddenly shuddered, and sweat broke out all over her. She felt cold and clammy, even in the humid warmth of the Aiur afternoon. Jake÷Zamara was talking earnestly to Ladranix, pointing at a spot on the map he had sketched in the earth. Ladranix was hunched close to the terran, his luminous eyes following Jake’s pointing finger.
Thank God, or any listening deity, or just her own stubbornness, that she had made it clear that they were never to read her mind uninvited.
She needed another fix.
She had promised to bring Jake to the rendezvous point in six hours. She would not do so. When she had made that promise, her body taut and racked with a pain that hitherto she had never even imagined, she had not lied. She had promised to deliver Jake, and via him Zamara, to their mysterious Benefactor, and she’d meant every single word of that promise. And Alzadar had believed her truthfulness, and granted her the mercy of the Sundrop on her aching skin, and let her go.
The plan had been to say that the way was clear. To tell Jake and Ladranix and the others that they could proceed unchallenged. “You are one of us now, a sister of the Sundrop, Rosemary Dahl,” Alzadar had assured her, rubbing the salve into her wrists as she wept with relief and ecstasy. “The Xava’tor is merciful. He has no reason to harm one who aids him. Who knows but that a terran might prove useful again in the future? Bring us the preserver and her allies, and the Sundrop will be yours to partake of freely.”
But despite the pleasure that still hummed along her skin and in her blood, the words that left Rosemary Dahl’s lips upon her “rescue” were not the ones she had agreed to speak. She’d warned them away from attempting to enter the cavern.
Now she mentally cursed the impulse to protect Jake and Zamara. Ethan wouldn’t have done it.
The thought of Ethan made her frown. For so long, she’d admired and respected him. Ethan’s lack of loyalties had amused and delighted her, until that lack of loyalty had been turned on her like a searchlight upon an escaping convict. Maybe that was why she’d impulsively decided not to betray Jake. That had to be it. Regardless, right now she wished the words back, and would have done anything if Alzadar had miraculously appeared with a palmful of Sundrop.
She excused herself, claiming the need to empty her bladder, and instead wandered off and threw up. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and surrendered to the shaking for one moment, and then tried to think.
Rosemary was supposed to meet with Alzadar tonight. She was supposed to not show up alone. She’d have to think of something to delay Alzadar with, and pray that the story was good enough so that he’d give her another dose.
A slave—she was a slave to that drug the same way the slaves in the den at Paradise had been. The same way she had been a slave to stims, to turk and bog and fireweed and to everything else she’d injected, swallowed, or sniffed the four long years she’d been an addict. Whatever Ethan had done to her the last time they’d met, he’d helped her kick that, at least.
Until now.
Rosemary took a deep breath, spat, and returned to the gathering.
She arrived at the site after checking to make sure it was zerg-free, and for a minute that was both excruciating and glorious thought that Alzadar had either forgotten about the rendezvous or else had been caught. A slight brush of her thoughts dispelled the notion at once, and she turned to see him standing in a puddle of moonlight. The light fell upon his form, tall and imposing, his eyes gleaming as bright as the moon’s radiant glow. A shadow pooled ominously and starkly beneath him.
“You are late,” he said.
Rosemary stood as straight as she could. “It’s not easy to get away, you know.”
“Did they believe you?”
Rosemary was smart. She had a mind that was, if not as disciplined as Ethan’s, definitely under her control for the most part. She formed the thoughts as she spoke.
“No. I told them the story we agreed on. But they don’t trust me. Jake in particular doesn’t trust me after I was willing to turn him over to Valerian. I warned you about that.”
The lambent eyes narrowed. “Go on.”
“I’ll need a few days to persuade them. In the meantime, if you give me some of the Sundrop, you won’t need to risk discovery by meeting with me. I’ll meet you here
again in a few days. By then I’ll—”
His shoulders trembled and she felt his laughter, dry and frightening, rush through her.
“Foolish little girl,” he said. “You think those barriers will stop me, a trained templar? It was a brave try, and better than I expected from someone who is not a protoss. But it was in vain.”
She swallowed hard and clenched her fists. God, she wanted the stuff. And he knew it.
“If you betray us,” he said calmly, “you will not have it again, and the lack of it will kill you.”
“I’ve quit tougher drugs.”
“No, you have not. Your stims, as you call them, are paltry things compared to the Sundrop.”
“If it’s so bad, why don’t you quit it yourself?” Rosemary challenged frantically.
“Why should we? It is a gift from the Xava’tor. The withdrawal, while painful, does not damage us. And the ecstasy is—well. You know.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head in a manner that Rosemary was starting to understand conveyed a smile.
“What shall I do with you, Rosemary Dahl?” he mused. “I’ve no real wish to kill you, but our Xava’tor must be satisfied. I cannot return to him and say that I have failed him. So what do we do?”
“Give me another chance,” she said. She’d tried to lie. She’d tried to do the right thing and been caught out at it. What were Jacob Jefferson Ramsey and Zamara the preserver to her anyway, in the end? All they had done was make her into someone on the run. She owed them nothing. Maybe this Benefactor could get her off Aiur. At the very least, Alzadar could give her enough Sundrop so that she wouldn’t give a rat’s ass at being stuck here for the rest of her life.
A spasm of pain shook her, and worse than the pain was the wanting of the pleasure.
“Yes,” said Alzadar, satisfied. She knew he’d read her thoughts. “There is still time yet.” He opened a sack he had slung over his back and withdrew a small pot. Rosemary’s heart leaped, and as he removed the lid on the pot and the familiar scent wafted out, tears formed in her eyes.
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