* * *
Quin
Just before lunch, we received information concerning a distress call. Caylon had the information from Director Griff, with the last-known location of a beleaguered ship. This was a freighter, filled to capacity with food, vehicles and pharmaceuticals.
"Kooper believes that they may want the pharmaceutical packaging, in order to pass the drakus seed off to buyers without appearing illegal," Caylon informed us. "I've already instructed James and Nathan to set our course for the location of the distress call."
"I'll get us there faster," Kaldill offered. He intended to fold space with the BlackWing VII and everyone on-board. Caylon barked the coordinates; there was a moment of disorientation, which righted itself almost immediately.
"They're still unloading the ship," James called out from the helm. An image of the crippled freighter came into view, with another ship lined up beside it and connected through a makeshift walkway.
They'd punched a hole in the freighter's hull to remove the cargo, then intended to pull the walkway back to their ship, leaving the gaping hole in the other unprotected. If anyone remained alive on the freighter, they'd die.
"Who's going?" Caylon barked.
"Really? You have to ask?" Zaria spat before disappearing. Ilya cursed as he followed her.
"Ready?" Caylon lifted an eyebrow at Sal.
"Thought you'd never ask," Sal quipped and disappeared when Caylon did.
* * *
Ilya
I already thought Zaria was made of myth and legend. Q'elindis were so rare they almost didn't exist.
What I saw upon landing on the main freight deck of the captured ship was a child's tale come true.
While wrapped in a golden shield, Zaria, from a distance, destroyed any pirate who fired a weapon at her.
Yes, I'd read of the talent in an old book of tales. It was called mind-kill. I was forced to shield myself quickly, but found that Zaria turned her attention to anyone who fired at me, too.
One by one, they fell. I had no idea why they didn't give up and attempt to flee, but they didn't.
It wouldn't have mattered after a while; once all the vermin had crowded onto the freighter, I fired off a spell to seal the hull breach while Zaria took care of the rest. Caylon and Salidar stood nearby, also shielded but holding their weapons at rest while they watched Zaria work.
How had she escaped notice for so long?
How?
I heard that Quin had done something similar, but I wasn't sure whether to believe it. Quin—she had to be near the ones she killed—or so Caylon had said.
In the tale I'd read, the hero with Zaria's skill could do so from long distances; he only had to focus on the target.
So long as the target wasn't blocked.
Yes, I recalled in the tale that there were certain individuals who could block the targets.
I realized they meant Sirenali. After all, if one part of the tale were true, it made sense that the rest of it could also be. Without lifting a finger, I watched the last pirate die.
"Is anyone on-board this ship still living?" Caylon released his shield and strode toward Zaria. She was surrounded by the bodies of those she'd killed.
"In the small cargo hold," Sal supplied. Zaria didn't answer; she gazed instead at the bodies of the fallen.
They'd tried to kill her. If they'd given up, I think she'd have taken them prisoner, but they'd still be alive.
I probably should have been afraid of her. I was afraid for her, instead. How many would hunt her if they knew what she could do? Either to use her, or kill her outright?
Q'elindis were always protected by the crown of Karathia, and they'd never been so talented.
"Zaria?" I called out when she didn't move. She didn't acknowledge my voice. Something had happened.
Zaria? I sent instead. Still she didn't respond.
Cabbage?
I don't know why I called her that. It just came to me. Her eyes locked on mine. Ilya? She sent. My Ilya?
"Come," I said, beckoning to her. "If you cannot bring yourself away, I will do so."
She couldn't move; I discovered that quickly. Therefore, I employed power to pull her away from the mountain of bodies and set her on a bare spot next to me.
"Do you need help?" I asked, taking her elbow.
I barely had time to catch her as she lost consciousness and fell.
* * *
Quin
"Zaria's exhausted. We have four from the cargo hold who need healing," Caylon said.
I'd watched as Ilya carried an unconscious Zaria past me, once he'd folded space to get back to our ship. Caylon and Sal had transported the others, several of whom needed my immediate attention. I went to work, although a part of my mind wondered what happened and why only Zaria had exhausted herself.
* * *
Bel Erland
"My Prince," Ilya spoke softly from behind. I'd been watching Quin healing what remained of the freighter's crew. Most were dead, according to Caylon. All the pirates were dead. He and Sal had gone aboard the pirate ship to rescue the young Sirenali, but he required Quin's attention, too.
"Ilya?" I turned to him, then. He'd carried Zaria back; she was unconscious when he did so.
"Zaria is sleeping. I must speak with you," he said. I heard the urgency in his voice, although he attempted to mask it.
"Where?" I asked.
"I'd prefer to speak with you in Zaria's quarters," he replied. "It concerns her, after all."
"I'll transport us," I offered. At his nod, I did so, landing us inside Zaria's small berth where she lay asleep on her bed, just as Ilya said.
"Do you recall the old tale of Kepple?" Ilya asked.
"Kepple the Brave?" I asked. It was a favorite story of young Karathians for millennia.
"Yes. That's the one," Ilya nodded. "I think it may not be a tale after all."
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"The part about mind-killing?" he said. I studied his face—deep, solemn brown eyes stared into mine. There was no lie or subterfuge there.
"What about it?" I shrugged.
"I just saw Zaria do it," he replied. "More than a hundred pirates are dead because of it."
Chapter 5
Le-Ath Veronis
Queen's Palace
Bel Erland
My conversation with Dad and Granddad took place roughly an hour later, in Gran's Palace library.
"You're sure about this?" Dad asked.
"Caylon and Salidar saw it, Dad. It wasn't just Ilya."
"Holy crap," Gran muttered.
"I don't think she's dangerous," I began.
"Honey, that's not my worry," Gran said. "I don't think she'll be dangerous to anybody who doesn't deserve it. What I'm worried about is who may end up with this information—how many criminals would love to have that kind of firepower under their thumb?"
"Gran, Quin can do it, too, remember? None of us will talk, but what if word gets out about both of them? Caylon says Zaria's talent likely is farther-reaching than Quin's, but they both have it in some measure."
"Then we have to maintain silence, or discredit any information that may be leaked," Gran shrugged. "Is anybody aboard ship afraid of Zaria, now?"
"No," I shook my head in absolute denial. "I think most of them are glad to have someone with that talent watching their backs. Zaria was the first to land on the freighter. We have a few of the freighter's crew who owe their lives to her swift action."
"I think we should do our best not to make her uncomfortable about this," Granddad sighed. "I don't want her feeling ostracized for the talents she possesses. Damn, I wish she'd come to us before now."
"Erland, honey, I think she had her reasons," Gran smiled at Granddad. "I might have done the same thing in her place."
"So we should treat this like business as usual?" I asked.
"I'd like to speak with her," Granddad said. "To reassure her that we support her in this."
"What happened to the
Sirenali on the pirate ship?" Gran asked.
"All were dead except one," I replied. "There were three, but the last of the pirates killed two before boarding the freighter to attack us. They left the youngest for dead, too, but Quin managed to save him."
"This is something new," Gran muttered. "Killing their Sirenali."
"Mom, do you think they're attempting to keep the Sirenali and their talents away from us?" Dad asked.
"It could be, but since most of them died, we can't really ask them, can we?"
"Perhaps Zaria saw that in the pirates—the last ones she killed," Dad suggested.
"I'll ask about that," Granddad said. "Come, my Prince. Let's see what Zaria has to say."
* * *
BlackWing VII
Zaria
Something had happened, there at the end. I'd said the wrong thing, out of hope. Or desperation. Probably both.
I hadn't seen Ilya since I'd fainted.
That was a dumb thing to do and I ridiculed myself for it—both the weakness and the fainting afterward.
He'd run and I'd never get close to him again.
The story of my life.
Lives.
All of them I could remember, anyway.
"Zaria?" Bel Erland knocked on my door.
"Come in," I blew out a sigh and stood to receive the Prince. He and his grandfather, Erland, walked inside my berth.
"You want to know about the remote-killing, don't you?" I said after catching a glimpse of their expressions. No, it wasn't horror—it was curiosity more than anything. Erland—his curiosity was combined with admiration.
"First off, I don't like to do it," I said. "In this case, there wasn't any other way, unless I wanted those obsessed murderers who wanted to kill all of us to live."
"I have no argument about your reasons," Erland gestured for me to sit on the side of my bed while he and Bel Erland took the two chairs in my small living space. "I merely desire that you not punish yourself, or keep yourself away from the others—they still feel the same about you."
"Hmmph." I didn't add that Ilya was noticeably absent. It only added to the growing burden of friends long dead or those who didn't remember me because in their minds, they'd never met me before.
Yes, depression is a terrible, terrible thing, and one I'd been fighting since I'd wakened in blackness, only to find myself locked inside a hideous, shallow coffin. If Leo Shaw were still around, I'm sure he'd have some label to slap on the growing list of phobias I had.
The only person I could blame for all of this, of course, was me. I'd taken matters into my own hands in an attempt to save lives, and I'd screwed myself to do it.
"Zaria, stop it," Erland said, jerking me away from my unhappy thoughts. He must have caught the sadness that overwhelmed me, causing my hands to shake.
"This is what we wanted to prevent," Erland reminded me. "Self-harm is often the worst kind."
"I know," I whispered and looked away.
* * *
Quin
Zaria isn't feeling well, Bel Erland sent.
Do you need my help? I returned.
She says she doesn't want help, but I'm concerned, he said. Granddad is trying to talk her around. I think we should ask Kevis Halivar to join us—at least for a while, he added.
Kevis Halivar?
He's sort of related, Bel explained. He's a physician who treats this sort of thing. Zaria is upset because of all the people she killed. Granddad and Sal think it's a good idea to bring him in.
I hope she feels better, I said. Barc really likes her, and so does everybody else.
I know. She's the only one who doesn't like her, I think.
She blames herself, and that shouldn't be.
I agree.
* * *
Zaria
"Kevis," he introduced himself and held out a hand. Yes, he could be as serious as any medical professional, but underneath that stern exterior was a streak of humor that he hid most of the time.
"Doctor Halivar, I presume? Sorry, I didn't put up a jungle illusion for your arrival." I shook his hand.
"Not many would get that reference," he grinned.
"They haven't told you? About the Q'elindi thing?"
"They did. I see that part works just fine."
"I warn you, you're not the first to want a tour of my head," I told him.
"I ah, had a discussion with Salidar earlier," he said.
"Great. Lovely. Additional descriptive terms that I will surely recall later," I grumped.
Sal and I are connected to Bree, he sent mindspeech. You can talk about anything with me, including your former lives. Our sessions will be private, I assure you.
I didn't answer, I merely rubbed my forehead with a hand. How did I tell him that talking about some things would reduce me to a useless pile of jelly?
You're afraid. I understand that.
Do you remember previous lives? I snapped. How and why you died in them? Say yes and I'll believe you. How many suicide patients have you talked to, after they successfully committed suicide?
I didn't mean that, I only meant I understood you were fearful.
"Oh. Fine." I blew out a breath. "You're my designated shrink. Welcome to the circus."
"We'll have our first session tomorrow, after breakfast," he said. "Want me to clear up the last of that bruise on your chin?"
"It doesn't hurt anymore," I said.
"You should learn to accept help when it's offered," he chided.
"Accepting makes me cry," I said and folded space to get away from him.
* * *
Quin
"We had a hard time finding her," Bel Erland settled beside me in my sitting room.
"Where was she?"
"In the hold of the ship, with the cargo," Bel said. "She was lodged between crates and looked like she'd been crying. Kevis didn't say anything; he just helped her to her feet and folded her away. He took her to her berth and placed her in a healing sleep."
"I want to know what happened to her," I sighed.
"Dad says Didge was pretty messed up by the Ra'Ak; that's where the former heir to the throne died—killed by one of those hideous creatures. It's a miracle Zaria survived the attack."
"This was before your father was named heir?" I asked.
"Yes. Dad was next in line, because Gran and her father refused it."
"Your grandmother already had a kingdom to run. What made her father refuse the throne?"
"Because of what he is, although he's retired. Besides, some of his decisions haven't been the best or most prudent, where family is concerned."
"At least he helped us out," I said.
"And we're grateful. Get Gran to tell you his history, sometime; it's not pretty. It was his son who died in Didge," Bel added.
"Sounds like a tangled mess," I agreed, smoothing a dark lock of hair away from his forehead. He leaned in to kiss me. We forgot the world for a while, in the comfort of our love.
* * *
Ilya
"I can't discuss it, as you know," Kevis Halivar shut off his comp-vid and blinked at me from across a small table in the dining room. A cup of hot tea sat at his elbow; he'd taken a break to complete his notes—probably on his latest patient, Zaria.
I should have known better than to blurt out the question that occupied my mind—what was wrong with her?
"But what can I—we—do to help her?" I demanded.
"I won't know the answer to that until she tells me what's upsetting her," he replied. "Even you should realize that could take a while."
"I want to get to know her." I was back to divulging my difficulties.
"Then do so. Just because something troubles her from her past doesn't mean she can't forge a new friendship or relationship," he scolded. "Just be patient with her, all right?"
"I can do that," I dropped my eyes and stared at my hands. "Thank you." Pushing my chair back, I rose to leave.
"Be consistent," Dr. Halivar called out as I walked
away. "She needs a source of solid, constant support in her life."
"I can do that," I whispered.
* * *
Quin
"The body is at an ASD facility," Caylon informed Bel and me at breakfast. Sometime during the night while we slept, the body of the wealthy kidnap victim—the one whose fortune had disappeared from his bank account, had been dumped on a moon orbiting Tulgalan.
"They have his money—he was no longer useful," Bel said. His brow furrowed as he frowned—we understood that electronic surveillance and recognition bots now had the images of those who'd forced a bank president to unlock those funds.
If any of those people walked into another Alliance bank, they'd be recognized. What Bel and I also understood, however, was that with a warlock or witch's help, people could be made to look like someone else.
Someone completely innocent.
So far, no more accounts had been drained; Kooper kept Caylon and Salidar updated on that information.
Now—one victim was dead and we were still no closer to discovering the others.
"ASD drones and manned ships were sent out to scan all of Tulgalan's moons, but they're too smart to dump a body where they're hiding," Caylon continued.
Even the stupid ones know not to do that, Bel informed me.
"This probably happened the moment they had the credits in their possession," I said.
"That's what Kooper thinks," Caylon agreed.
"Here's my question," Zaria appeared unannounced at our table. "Why did it take so long for them to kill and dispose of him, and why aren't we seeing more of the same with the other kidnap victims?"
"I agree," Ilya set his tray of food on the table and pulled out a chair to join us. "It should be simple to convince these victims to hand over information—we're dealing with a powerful witch and warlock who can extract information from nearly anyone, should they so desire."
"Yes, but," Zaria took a chair at the table and pointed a finger at Ilya, "They wanted information from Vardil Cayetes, too, and weren't able to pry that away from him."
"Perhaps they wanted to use Cayetes as long as they could, to further their own agenda. The information needed could wait—until Cayetes was reduced to a drooling fool. Good luck on getting information after that," Ilya said. He bit into a slice of bacon to punctuate his statement.
"True, but we're back to getting information from kidnap victims," Zaria said.
SpellBreaker: First Ordinance, Book 4 Page 6
