“You were ready to die for your brother.” His words surprised him. She allowed him to step closer still.
“I had placed him in peril.” Her voice was thick. “It was the only way to remove that. It was the right thing.”
“I can’t imagine the ‘right thing’ would ever involve you dying.”
Her lips twitched. She held his gaze. Her brain was always buzzing. When was she not thinking?
Moves cautious, he took her hand from where it rested against the table. She frowned, but permitted it. Her body stiffened, as if waiting for something harsh.
Well, she was not half-wrong.
He settled the jdrive into the palm of her hand. “I am not a man that has always done the right thing. I want that to change.”
She pulled away, cradling piece of tech against her chest like an injured bird.
“I was not lying about Hadelia. Poisoncry guards the flexers too heavily. You’re smart enough to get this to work with another velo to make the journey. You can avoid the flexers altogether.”
She began to speak, but he drove on, before he lost his nerve. “It’s still dangerous to go alone. Let me help you. I’d give you my word, but you know what that’s worth now. ”
Some of the hardness left her gaze. “Asher, I—”
He kissed her. It was a sudden clumsy rush. His fingers combed through her hair to cradle the back of her head. His other hand rested on her waist. Her body went rigid against him, trapped against the edge of the table. She made a startled noise in her throat and pushed at his chest. Then, feeling foolish and wrong, he pulled away.
He shut his eyes. No stinging slap against his jaw. No hissed curses from her. He opened his eyes as she slipped past. Moves trance-like, she paused at the door to regard him over her shoulder. He waited for her to say something, anything. The look on her flushed face was maddeningly unreadable.
68
Erelah shut the heavy carved door to the bedroom and leaned against it. She’d sprinted up the stairs and through the twisting halls in her escape from the parlor. Catching her breath, she slid down to the floor and drew her knees up. The tears that had threatened finally came, fueled by a strange frustration. Restlessness burrowed into her very skin.
His doing. Damn him.
He’s not going to fool me again.
Cursing him did not feel right either. Perhaps he was being honest. A man so unused to it would have seemed as awkward and out of sorts as he had.
Absently, she traced a finger over lips, gaze unfocused on the growing shadows of the room. For one weak moment, standing in that salon, pressed against him, she had allowed herself that tiny lie. That she could have something so normal. That a man wanted her for the right reasons, wanted to purge his sins and do right by her.
It had felt…nice. He’d tasted like salt and nerves and—
What are you thinking? This is just what he wants. You, distracted, while he plies another scheme. The Tyron-voice was a sudden swell of fury.
She made her way to the gauzy shape of the terrace, the delicate shape of the jdrive still pressed to her chest. None of the pin-lights were active. Devoid of an external catalyst, it was now an inert sculpture of wire and metal. Far from innocent. It had engineered the ruin of so much. With a fingernail, she dug a dark substance from one of the crevices.
It was dried blood. She grimaced. How appropriate.
Destroy it.
The spheroid would require the power of a sun to consume it entirely. But she could make it unusable for anyone else. End it all forever.
Not yet. She had to know. Had to find Jon. He lived. She knew it. Felt it.
The light from the terrace deepened to rust. Movement in the growing shadows near the tapestry. The sound of small feet over tile. Mim.
Erelah suspected there were many hiding places and servant’s passages in this massive home. It was from an era when border raids by marauders were common. Hiding spaces and panic rooms were essential. The girl probably knew them all.
“Are you here to spy on me?” she called out to the shadow.
A hesitant rustle of fabric and then the tiny blond stepped out from her hiding place.
“I’m not spying.” She drew herself up taller. Erelah noted with a smirk that the girl had changed her clothes in an attempt to emulate the new outfit Kelta had supplied her.
“What do you want, then?”
Mim ignored the question as she seemed to examine the air around Erelah. “You’re different. Your colors are like a bunch of people in a tiny room, all mushed together inside you.”
Erelah stiffened. Is that what a Binait truly sees? No wonder Neesa reacted as she did. Would this child tell Kelta all? The elderly woman did not know she was Human or about the Sight. She’d prefer it that the fewer people who knew the better; the safer for them as well.
Mim seemed to sense her worry. “Kelta says it’s not polite to read colors, not unless someone asks. I won’t tell her nothing.”
The girl wandered to the sideboard where silver hair combs had been laid out. Another lavish gift from her hostess. Mim toyed with them. “But it’s important to practice. In a year or two when I’m big, I’m going to be Guild-sworn just like Asher. It’ll use what I see to help.”
Erelah’s chest drew tight at the mention of his name.
Mim’s eyes widened. “That made you hurt. I’m sorry. Your colors got sad.”
She shook her head, dismissive. Little reason to try to explain something she did not understand herself. Erelah leaned her forearms against the sun-warm stone of the banister. Beside her, Mim copied her stance.
In the street below, the foot traffic now waned as merchants and fisherman all returned home to dine in their warm houses. The notion of such simplicity filled her with fierce envy.
Erelah cleared her throat, realizing the girl was watching her, not the crowd. “How did you come to live here with Kelta?”
“I’ve been here since I was little.” The words carried sorrow that no child should know. “Momma got blackmouth. One morning she didn’t wake up.”
“I’m so sorry, Mim.”
The child gave a half-shrug, adult. “I’d stolen some sabron figs from a cart. I was so hungry. The man caught me, wanted to punish me. Kelta stopped him. She brought me here to live. Sometimes there are other kids too.”
Erelah frowned. Mim had been the only child she’d encountered in Kelta’s home. Although she had on occasion heard the laughter of children, she had assumed it was from the street outside. “Others?”
The girl nodded enthusiastically. “There’s Jofa and Connid and Cessy.”
“And where are they right now?”
Mim’s mouth puckered as she seemed to weigh her words. She drew in breath to speak.
“At their lessons with Mr. Thonn,” Kelta announced from the doorway, her voice stern.
The child spun around, her posture suddenly formal. Erelah felt the urge to duplicate the stance.
“Oddly, someone is missing.” Kelta raised an expectant eyebrow. She stepped aside, gesturing to the open doorway.
With a melodramatic sigh, Mim tromped off the terrace muttering an apology. The older woman gave a light pat to the girl’s back before ushering her out the door.
“I find myself apologizing for her more often than I’d like to admit, my lady.” Kelta joined her at the balcony.
Erelah stretched a wan smile at her. “I was a bit like that. Curious about things. Too clever for my own good. I took apart devices to see how they worked. Uncle was not always best pleased.”
Kelta scanned the view beyond the terrace. “Clever still, to hear Asher’s praises of you.”
Erelah felt her face grow hot. Of course he’d speak to this woman about her. Who knew what other things he might have confessed to her? Had he sent Kelta to work on her sympathies? She doubted this formidable matron was one to tolerate lies from him or to volunteer herself to be part of his manipulations.
“As a child, I was the bound servan
t of a Kindred, but I longed for adventures.” Kelta’s thin lips formed a wistful smile. “Age has cured me of the foolishness of youth. You become so much less reckless when the comfort of your hips and knees decides how you spend your days.”
She leaned against the rail, her full attention on Erelah. “You intend to leave us, my lady. You seek your kin. A shame, but I understand. Family is precious. I warn you: Guild space is not Origin. The travel is treacherous, especially alone.”
Erelah denied the urge to fidget under Kelta’s level gaze. It was impossible to keep anything from this woman; no lie or secret was safe. Although she might feign failing eyesight, she saw all.
“Asher offered to come with me. I’m not sure how much more of his help I can survive.”
Kelta sniffed. “At times his behavior is so deeply stupid I wonder if one of the other nurses dropped him on his head as a baby. Surely, I’d remember doing such a thing.”
Erelah gave a thin laugh.
“He is noble at heart, my lady. Worthy of forgiveness. A good ally to have.” Kelta’s voice hardened. “Ravinia filled him with daydreams and stories of his father. Perhaps, deep down, he blames himself for what happened.”
Kelta went silent. The noise from the street below swelled in the afternoon heat. When she spoke again, her voice held sadness that no sun-drenched terrace should bear. “A Guild-sworn must forsake their lives that came before. The Guild commands this. Your loyalty must never be called into question. It is an oath that is not taken lightly. When you are young and foolish and driven by ambition, this seems such a small price.
“Asher’s father, Saxum, was Ironvale Guild-sworn. He and Ravinia wed in secret. Soon his long absences were questioned. Ironvale accused him of treason, spying for the Splitdawn. Because he was Binait, it was easy for the Eugenes to distrust him. In truth, he was with his wife and newly born son. Rather than expose them to Guild punishment, Saxum chose the penalty. Death.”
“Asher knows all this, but he still joined Ironvale?” Erelah asked, incredulous.
“In his arrogance, he thought he could be different, could right things, exonerate his father. I tried to talk him out of his choice, but he is very much like Ravinia in that regard.” Kelta’s voice wavered.
Erelah remembered Uncle, during the long nights on Argos after Jon had left to join the Regime. He seemed so defeated, anguished. Little could be done or said to comfort him. My boy, what have you done?
“We love our children, but we cannot live their lives for them. We cannot lead them.” Kelta patted her wrist. “We must let them make their own mistakes and hope they survive them. We hope that at the end of the day, they find the right Path.”
69
Erelah spent a restless night in the expansive bed, her shallow sleep invaded by dreams mixed with memories. There was a confusing flurry of disjointed conversations with the living and the dead, the logic of which evaded scrutiny.
She woke to pallid yellow dawn, the sheets knotted around her. Dressing quickly, she slipped from the still-sleeping house. Her brain itched with restlessness.
By the time she reached the port where they’d berthed the Cassandra, she had already mentally disassembled the vessel’s engine and configured a bypass to safely engage the jdrive. Although she did get some curious glances from the few workers sauntering in to start their day, no one challenged her. The dock master emerged from a tiny cube of a building, took one look at the embroidered Corsair badge over the breast of her jacket, and simply waved her past with a confused half-grin.
She slipped into the darkened vessel and immediately took in the junction boxes and cable sets. It was a compulsion. Her hands twitched to work on something, to tinker or explore. Anything to keep the jangled mix of thoughts pushed to a corner, where they could feast on themselves.
And for a time, it worked.
“Knew I’d find you here.”
Asher’s voice echoed down to her in the subfloor access for the conduits that fed the cesium manifold. The area was a tight squeeze, but she found if she maneuvered onto her back, she could slip beneath the metal support struts for the flooring. There was a reason why Fleet techs were so small.
Her sigh echoed in the tight space. “Checking the primary exchangers. If the velo’s balanced, configuring the jdrive shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“I’ll pretend that all just made sense.”
Erelah counted to ten. He could be so…him. She sighed and looked up through the slats in the grating. He leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets. Only he could make annoying someone so casual.
“If you’re just going to stand there, you can at least be useful.” She jutted a hand out into the open. “Hand me the coupler assembly.”
She sensed him casting about among the scattered tools on the deck. With a huff, she slid out of the space.
“You have no idea what that is, do…” She swallowed the rest of it.
The tattoos on his face and neck were gone. Although some of the heavy black ink still peeked out at the neck of his slim-fitting shirt and wove in designs over his thick forearms, he looked…normal. Well, better than normal. Beneath the Zenti tattoos, he was actually handsome. Erelah cleared her throat. She had been staring.
She pointed at a tarnished metal cylinder with a complex bundle of wires sticking from either end. Asher stooped, handed it to her. His fingers brushed hers. She jerked back, claiming the coupler.
“I do now.” He smirked.
Erelah squirmed back beneath the strut. She shut her eyes, grateful that her face was hidden. Hopefully he would grow bored of talking to her legs and simply leave.
The deck creaked under his shifting weight. Something brushed her leg. She glanced down. His foot. He now sat on the edge of the open plating.
Miri, did he have to be so…there?
“I can’t picture you shut away in some temple. Not when you were so good at this. You don’t even have to think about it hard.”
She inhaled, counted to ten. “Joining me to the Order was Uncle’s idea. But you know that, don’t you?”
“He was keeping you safe, in his way.”
One accident neither of us understands and suddenly he’s an expert on me, on my life.
It filled her with a barbed annoyance. Erelah slid back out into the open, pushed herself up on one elbow. “What do you know? He hid the truth, fed me lies. You of all people should know how well that works.”
Asher recoiled slightly. “I didn’t mean—”
“I’m sick of lies. Even the ones meant to protect still hurt.”
His jaw flexed. There was no calculation in his gaze. For once, he did not seem to be measuring how to turn this conversation to his advantage.
She pawed through the repair kit in search of a soldering frame made in this century, all the while feeling his stare.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me for a second. But it’s dangerous for you to do this on your own.”
Her hand dropped from the kit. It was useless anyway. Impossible to concentrate with him so close. “I do forgive you.”
“What?”
“I’ve forgiven you. It’s just how you are.”
Just can’t forgive myself for believing your lies.
His eyes narrowed. Anger frosted his words. “What do you mean by that?”
Erelah rolled onto her back and slid back into the workspace. “That I understand what the Guild meant to you. Kelta told me.”
Something seemed to ignite the air. He gripped the leg of her trousers and pulled her out into the open. He leaned down over her, straddling her body. One hand planted on the hull near her head. “You don’t understand. You don’t know a damned thing.”
She tried to squirm away, but he held firm on her hip. She looked down at his hand, then up at him. “Let go.”
He released his grip, but remained in place, his face inches from hers. She thought of their first encounter on the Nyxa’s Mercy. How he’d hovered, taunting her as his deep voice played along
her spine. Now she heard only frustration. She wondered if what she felt in his presence did the same to him, gnawed at his brain, mocking every word spoken or each decision.
If I could still use the Sight on him, what would I see if his heart were laid bare?
“The first second I saw you, I knew you were a means to an end. I just didn’t understand how.”
Erelah frowned. She shifted, feeling exposed. “If this is an apology—”
“Shut up. I’m not done.” Regret flashed across his face. Erelah arched an eyebrow at him. She folded her arms even as she lay on her back in the tight space. He pressed on. “You were an answer. But not the way I thought, not at first. I’d walked in darkness so long, I didn’t know how far I’d wandered. You were the way back from that. You brought me back.”
Her breath caught. The caustic response she’d prepared dissolved. It was as if she really saw him for the first time. She was very aware of his warmth, the press of him.
“Let me make this right.” His voice heavy with ardent desperation. “Erelah, there’s no way I can make up for any of this. I can’t—”
She kissed him, arching her neck up to meet him.
After what seemed a breathless eternity, he broke away.
She kept her eyes squeezed shut. I shouldn’t have done that. Miri, what am I thinking?
There was a shift in the air and the sound of rustling fabric. She opened her eyes.
“Come here.” He guided her up from the tight space and lifted her to sit at the edge of the deck. Their heights were even. “I don’t like the idea of kissing anyone with a pressured conduit of cesium three inches from my skull. As exciting as that sounds.”
“I didn’t—”
She forgot the rest under his next kiss.
70
The bunkroom had no portal. It was an interior room, tucked beneath the command loft. Yet from her spot, Erelah could see into the common passage where the early afternoon sun shone through the portals of the galley.
Although one Cassandra was identical to another, the previous owners had done some modifications to the bunkroom. A large bed had replaced the narrow bunks. Lockers and shelving for storage lined the walls to make the most of the cramped space. The interior walls were a pale blue—something other than Fleet brown.
allies and enemies 02 - rogues Page 22
