“I’d like to speak with you in private.”
“Of course,” Talus said. The Gryphons stood and nodded politely to Tonka, and Jinjie. “If you’ll excuse us.” Tonka and Jinjie nodded back, and Salene led them back to the first cave. She had so many thoughts running through her mind that she wasn’t sure where, or even how, to begin. Deciding to just plunge in, she opened her mouth at the same time that Talus raised one hand in a polite request to speak first. She nodded, hiding her relief.
“We love you, Salene,” he began. “Perhaps we don’t know you as well as we should, or as well as we thought, but there are some things we do know and that’s first and foremost among them. We love you, and we would never, ever intentionally do anything to cause you the slightest harm. We understand that simply knowing it wasn’t us, but the Controllers, that hurt you doesn’t change the way you felt, or the damage it caused. It doesn’t change what you were forced to go through, and it doesn’t change the decisions you made as a result.
“I ask that you forgive us for not grasping all of that until now, but we are trying, Salene. We truly are. We also want you to know that we’re glad Wolef gave you a new path to follow when you needed it most. We certainly aren’t angry or upset that you decided to keep your word, either. It’s no less than we would have expected from you.”
Salene took a long, deep breath, relieved by Talus’s words. As far as they went. He apparently knew her better than he gave himself credit for, because he instantly recognized that there was something else on her mind that he hadn’t addressed. “What is it, Zerura? What did I miss?”
She took another deep breath in an effort to loosen the sudden tightening in her throat, caused this time by the endearment she’d missed so much. “I should have…,” she began, then blinked rapidly in an effort to hold back the tears that threatened.
“You should have what?” Talus asked, dumbfounded.
“I know,” Kar said, his eyes never leaving Salene’s face. “This is what Jinjie meant. Demii! He was right. We are selfish.”
Salene, Jon, and Talus all stared at Kar in surprise. It was Salene who spoke first, her eyes slightly narrowed. “What did Jinjie say to you?”
“He did not betray any confidences, dearest,” Kar said gently. “He said only that we didn’t understand you, and he was right. We didn’t.”
“I still don’t,” Talus said tightly. “Will you please enlighten me?”
“She feels guilty. It’s not enough that she figured out that we had Controllers, or that she sent Tani to free us from them. She thinks that she should have known something was wrong with us from the beginning.”
Talus frowned, as did Jon, neither one of them seeing the logic in that. But Salene’s lowered eyes and slow nod told them that Kar was right. Talus shook his head and stepped forward so that he could place one gentle finger beneath her chin. She resisted at first, but after a moment she gave in and looked up at him. The tears swimming in her golden eyes made his heart hurt.
“Don’t do this to yourself, Zerura,” he said softly. “Please. I’m begging you. The Doftles have taken enough from us. Don’t give them this. Don’t let them make you feel responsible for what they did.”
Salene took a long, shuddering breath. “I should have known.”
“How?” Talus asked. “How should you have known?”
“I should have had more faith in you. Telling me that you didn’t want to link with me should have told me something was wrong all by itself.”
“You had no reason whatsoever not to believe us,” Talus said. “We’ve never lied to you, not once, nor would we. You trusted us, and the Controllers used that trust against all of us. This is the Doftles’ fault. Not yours, and not ours.”
Salene’s eyes widened. Talus was right. She’d never questioned anything they told her because, as far as she knew, they’d always been honest with her. She trusted them so completely that even when they’d told her something that she should have questioned, she hadn’t. There was more to it than that, of course, another reason she’d believed when she shouldn’t have. But she had no intention of saying so. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“There’s also the fact that, as we all know, Controllers don’t work on Klanaren,” Jon added. “We had a hard time accepting it ourselves and they were inside of us. That the idea occurred to you at all is something of a miracle.” Salene couldn’t argue with that, either.
“I ask that we set all of this aside,” Talus said. “I ask that we forgive ourselves and each other for whatever guilt we hold in our minds and hearts over what was done to us.” He paused, glanced at his brothers, then looked back down into Salene’s eyes. “We thought to take you back to Jasan so that we could pick up our lives again as they were before all that happened. We understand now that such a thing isn’t possible. We can’t go backward, and we shouldn’t try. Our experiences have changed us. All four of us. I ask that we accept these changes in ourselves, and each other. I ask that we accept things as they are right now, at this moment in time, and move forward without looking to the past.”
“I’d like that,” Salene said. Talus had put most of her worries and fears into words and had opened her eyes to the fact that they’d changed too, though she hadn’t noticed that for herself yet. “I’d like that very much.” Jon and Kar moved more closely so that all of them touched her. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of them. They still looked at her without passion, but she had no doubt at all that they loved her as much as she loved them.
“I too, would like that,” Jon said.
“And I,” Kar added.
Salene completely relaxed for the first time in so long that she’d forgotten what it felt like. She stepped forward into Talus’s arms and rested her head against his chest, sighing softly when Jon and Kar pressed even closer against her.
“I missed you,” she said softly. “I missed your warmth, and your strength, and your love. I missed feeling the three of you surrounding me.”
“We missed you, as well,” Talus said, glad that she couldn’t see his face for the moment. There was something she wasn’t saying. When he met his brother’s eyes he realized that they felt it, too. He shook his head at them. Whatever it was, they’d figure it out some other time. He didn’t want this moment ruined.
“We should go back,” Salene said.
“One question first, if you will,” Talus said.
“Of course.”
“The children.”
She looked up, then stepped back until they were no longer touching her. She met their eyes steadily, unable to hide the tension that suddenly filled her. “For weeks now, ever since the Armadura reached Jasan, I had a strange yearning sensation that I couldn’t identify or understand. That yearning stopped the moment I set eyes on Mali and Tab.” She paused and took a breath. “I don’t mean this to be an ultimatum, I really don’t. But I intend to keep them. I’m meant to keep them. I love you guys so much and I never stopped, not for a moment. But I love them, too. I’ve only known them for a little more than a day, but I love them and as much as they need me, I need them, too.”
“Of course you love them, Zerura,” Talus said while Jon and Kar both smiled down at her. “And we already know you intend to keep them. How could you not?”
“You don’t mind?” she asked. “I know it’s a lot to ask on top of the power bond with Wolef.”
“We don’t mind in the least,” Jon said. “They make you happy, Salene, and you make them happy, too. The three of you nearly glowed when you were holding them. We agree that you’re meant to keep them, and we’d never try to prevent that, or anything that makes you happy.”
“Thank you,” Salene choked out, stepping back into Talus’s arms so they could surround her again.
“You needn’t thank us,” Talus said. “We would like to know a bit more about them, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. What would you like to know?”
“They look very much alike. Are they brother and sister?
”
“No, cousins,” Salene replied. “From what Tonka told me last night, Mali’s been Tab’s primary care giver since shortly after he was born.”
“She is too young to be saddled with so much responsibility,” Jon said, frowning. “How old are they, anyway?”
“Mali is eight, though physically she appears to be about five, and Tab is four.”
“Four?” Kar asked in surprise. “We don’t know many children, but unless my memory serves me wrong he appears to be less than half that age.”
“Yes, he does,” Salene agreed. “I believe that their nutrition has been less than optimal for their needs. Hopefully Doc or the Tigrens can correct any damage that’s been done.”
“They starve the children?”
“I don’t think they’ve been starved, but I think food has been less than plentiful for everyone, limited in variety, and lacking in the nutritional requirements for growing children. Tonka told me that children in the silos were forced to work beginning at the age of six until they started growing too slowly. The Doftles raised the age limit to eight, so if Mali was forced to go back there, she’d have to work just like the adults. It’s one reason their grandfather took the risk of escaping with them.”
“Where is their grandfather?” Kar asked.
“He was killed yesterday in the raid on the settlement, along with their Aunt Lei. They have no other relatives.”
The Gryphons looked at each other, took a step back from Salene, then placed their right fists over their hearts. “We claim Mali and Tab as ours to care for, love, and protect as our own,” Talus said, his eyes locked with Salene’s. “Anything they need, they shall have, from this day forward, be it the last breath of air in our lungs, or the last drop of blood in our hearts. This oath will stand, unbroken and unbent, for as long as the soul we share exists on this or any plane.”
Salene was shocked by the strength of the vow they’d just made. She didn’t need them to explain to her that by saying the oath would stand for as long as their soul existed, they were also saying that the opposite was true. If they broke this oath, they forfeited the existence of the soul they shared.
“Thank you,” she said, the tears flowing freely. “That’s so much more than I could have ever hoped for. Thank you so much.”
“It’s no more than we would offer for children of our own, Zerura,” Talus said. “Perhaps one day, if we’re lucky, they will agree to let us be their fathers. In the meantime, we look forward to getting to know them better.”
“Emotionally they’re both far older than their years, especially Mali. I ask that you go slowly for her sake. Everyone she’s ever loved has died except for Tab. She lost both of her parents when she was only two, and Tab lost his when he was still a baby. They lost the last two members of their family just yesterday. Their grandfather was good to them, but they lived with their aunt who neither loved them nor wanted them, and she made no secret of it. Tonka told me that she made a point of never touching either of them, leaving all of their care on Mali’s shoulders. Right now Mali is afraid for their future.” Salene looked up and gasped softly when she saw that the Gryphons’ eyes were glowing, a sure sign that they were on the brink of a blood rage. “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching out to touch Kar and Jon while moving close enough to Talus to press her body against him. “That was careless of me.”
“It’s all right, Zerura,” Talus said, her effort to comfort them soothing their tempers. “It’s just impossible to imagine how those two tiny children could have gone unloved and uncared for.”
“Don’t worry, dearest,” Kar said. “We will go as slowly as they need us to go, and we will not try to rush or push them.”
“Thank you.”
“No, it is we who thank you, Salene.” She looked at him questioningly. “For giving us a chance. That’s all.” There were so many things Salene wanted to say, and just as many that she didn’t want to say. So she smiled, and nodded, deciding to do as Talus had suggested and move forward from here.
“Oh,” she said, stopping as she remembered one last thing. “You should know that Tab doesn’t talk, though as far as I’ve been able to tell, he understands everything that’s going on around him. Much more than any four year old I’ve ever seen, in fact. Tonka said he’s never made any sound at all, but no one knows why.”
“We’ll find out what the problem is once we get home to Jasan,” Talus said. “If necessary we’ll all be learning sign language quite soon.”
“I love you guys,” she said, smiling up at them.
“And we love you, Zerura,” Talus said, wanting to kiss her so much it was hard to hold back until he saw that her lips were taking on a bluish cast. “You’re freezing,” he said, turning toward the cave. “We should not have kept you out here in the cold for so long.”
Salene was still smiling as she turned to lead the way back. She had a lot to smile about. Her men had accepted her power bond with Wolef, and they’d accepted the children. They’d even offered to help free the people in the silo. On top of all that, they loved her. That, all by itself, felt like something of a miracle.
So what if there was no real passion between them? So what if they’d never looked at her the way she’d seen every other male-set she’d ever known look at their Arima? So what if sex was nothing at all like the hot, earth shaking experience she’d imagined it to be?
Talus, Jon, and Kar were good men, and they would always care for, and take care of her and the children. A girl could do a helluva lot worse than that.
Salene’s eyes went straight to Jinjie when she stepped into the cave, and she smiled at his nod of approval. She had a strong feeling that both Jinjie and Tonka had heard what they’d said, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care.
“Are you all right, Salene?” Mali asked worriedly.
“Yes, I’m all right, Mali,” she replied. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Okay,” Mali said, the lines of tension on her forehead relaxing, but not smoothing completely.
“Am I correct in assuming that you’ll be going with us to the silo?” Jinjie asked innocently.
“Yes, that’s correct Jinjie,” Talus replied as they all settled around the fire.
“I’ve no wish to rush anyone, but it will not be an easy trek down the mountain in this snow,” Tonka said. “We should leave soon to make the most of the daylight.”
“I’d agree with you, Tonka, except that it’s not necessary to trek down the mountain at all,” Talus said. “We can all transport up to the Aegl, work out a plan, settle the children, arm ourselves, and transport back down just outside the silo with as many warriors as we need.”
“This is possible?” Tonka asked in surprise.
“It’s possible, Tonka,” Salene replied, smiling at the Brun.
Tonka looked at the children, not missing the tension on Mali’s face. “Please do not be offended, Talus Gryphon, but I promised that I would see to the children’s safety. Therefore, I must ask what you meant when you said you’d settle the children.”
“We will never be offended by your concern, Tonka, on that you have my word,” Talus assured him. “There’s a Lobo male-set on our ship who raised six sons on their own after their mate passed to the Beyond. They will not only do a good job of looking after Mali and Tab, they will enjoy it. They will also defend them with their lives.”
“I know the men Talus speaks of, Tonka,” Salene said. “Mali and Tab will be quite safe with them, and I wouldn’t say that if I didn’t believe it with my whole heart.”
“In that case, I agree to this plan. And I thank you, all of you, for your aid. At this time yesterday morning I had two broken legs, two children hiding below the hut that I could not free, and no idea how I could possibly honor even one of the promises I’d made to my friend. Now, thanks to all of you, that is no longer the case.”
“We are honored to be able to help you, Tonka, as well as all of those held captive here,” Talus said.
Tonka sighed with relief as he rested his chin on his paws. Salene smiled at the Brun, then clapped her hands together. “I suppose we should get ready to transport up to the Aegl,” she said, standing up. “Just give me a few minutes to get ready.”
“Of course,” Talus said, not bothering to suggest that they just leave everything as it was. Aside from the standard survival gear that had certainly come from Salene’s pack, there were a few rough blankets and some wooden dishes, none of which would be needed on the Aegl. But he knew Salene well enough to know that a suggestion like that would fall on deaf ears. She was incapable of leaving a mess behind her, no matter the situation.
“We’ll step outside and contact the Aegl to let them know our plans so they can prepare for our arrival,” Talus said as he and his brothers stood up. Salene smiled at them over her shoulder as they left the cave, then she got to work.
A few short minutes later she had the dishes washed, the blankets folded, and her pack organized. She’d left the blankets, wooden dishes, and the used thermal sheets in neat stacks near the firewood in case someone else stumbled across the cave and needed them one day. All that remained was the folded blanket that the children were sitting on before the fire, and the food. She was staring at the sealed bags of dried meat and vegetables that she’d taken from the hut, trying to decide what to do with them when she heard the Gryphons return. She took one look at their faces and knew something bad had happened.
“You’ve been hiding your emotions from me,” she accused softly as she rose slowly to her feet. “What is it?”
“The space station self-destructed,” Talus said, a muscle twitching in his jaw the only outward sign of the anger Salene now felt rolling off of him, Jon, and Kar.
“Self-destructed?” she asked, shocked. “The Doftles?”
“Yes and no,” he replied.
“I don’t understand,” she said, her nails digging into the palms of her fisted hands as her tension skyrocketed. “Please explain, Talus.”
Salene's Secrets Page 25
