TALON (RIBUS 7 Book 4)

by Shae Mills

  Braedon turned her to him and took her by the shoulders. “Chelan. If anything, you prolonged his life and made it as sweet as any man’s could be. If you had not been with him, he would have perished in a fighter. He would have died knowing his Empire was succumbing, possibly crumbling down around you with nothing he could do to help.”

  Chelan fell silent, her eyes wide as she stared out across the room. “I want to leave here forever.”

  Lethiason hung his head. “Oh, my Lady, please don’t say that. After all Korba has gone through…”

  Chelan gritted her teeth. “No! I want to go to the caverns where it is safe. I have… I have had enough! I no longer care who is at the top, because no matter who rules, they can be taken out in the blink of an eye. I no longer want to be affiliated with a target. I want a normal life, whatever the hell that is, but I know it is not here.” She stared at Braedon. “I want to go now. Please.”

  Lethiason took in a deep breath and shook his head. “He loves you, Chelan. He has never stopped loving you. He reclaimed the Empire for you.”

  Chelan glared at Lethiason. “No! He led me to believe for years that he was dead while he reclaimed the Empire for himself. And there were so many ways to do this without making me an accomplice. I want to go now and forever! And if either of you refuse, I will simply leave of my own accord, one way or another.”

  Lethiason shook his head slowly. “Oh, my Lady… It was all so complicated. If Korba could have done it differently, he would have. Many a time, he withdrew from the plan, choosing to forfeit all to spare you this. But it was not his choice alone.”

  Chelan tried at assimilate everything swirling about her in an ever-constricting whirlpool that threatened to drown the life from her. But it was all too much to process, and she simply shut down. “I leave now, with Braedon or alone. That is my choice.”

  Chapter 25

  The two fighters nestled softly onto the snow-covered ice. Chelan extracted herself from one cockpit while Braedon leapt to the ground from the other. Equipment and supply packs were retrieved, and then they stood and watched as the two ebony birds lifted off and disappeared over the horizon.

  They collected up the supplies and hustled to the cavern entrance. Letting the sacks slide down on their own, they then descended carefully, and within no time, they were deep within the Iceanean planet.

  Once through the connecting tunnel, Chelan looked about the familiar cavern. Then, without a word, she walked to one of Braedon’s stashes of clothes. Tearing her shroud and uniform from her body, she unceremoniously threw them against the wall and slipped into one of his long tunics.

  Braedon peered at her as she tied it at the waist. Then she took in a long, cleansing breath, her body liberated from the confines of the Imperial uniform. He set the supplies down and watched as she approached him with purpose. She tore open his shroud and began undressing him. He smiled. “Chelan, I am not an Imperial warrior.”

  Chelan glared at him. “I know, but you wear their uniform.”

  Braedon grabbed her hands. “Chelan, I wore the uniform for protection. It is not contaminating my body or poisoning my mind.”

  Chelan stared at him defiantly.

  “My Lady, nothing has changed about me. I am who I am, the same person you met just over an Iceanean year ago. Do not worry.” And he let her go. Then he continued to disrobe himself. When naked, he kissed her forehead and then moved to find his own soft, suede garments. He pulled on his form-fitting pants and his long boots. Then he sheathed a knife in one boot and one at his waist.

  Chelan looked over at him, and unexpectedly her mind spun. To her, Braedon was of Earth, and yet he was not. Then she turned away and peered about the cavern. It too looked of Earth, indistinguishable from many of the caverns that pockmarked her world. And suddenly, she felt almost disoriented. She clutched at her head and closed her eyes. The last fourteen and a half Earth years had been an endless trial. Like Dorothy deposited in Oz, she wanted to click her heels and wake up in her own bed.

  Braedon startled her with his touch. He embraced her, but she twisted out his arms. “Even this is not safe enough,” she said. “I want to wake up at home. I want the nightmare to end.”

  “You are safe here. Korba will never challenge your decision. He knows all too well the pain he has inflicted.”

  “Regardless, I need someplace to call home. A true home, with family and support. Somewhere the arm of the Empire cannot intrude.”

  “You can make this your home, Chelan. Anywhere with me can be home.”

  Chelan stared at him. She could make the caverns whatever she wanted, that was true, but without a stable family, friends, and work, they were not truly home. For now, she was adrift in the universe on an alien planet, surrounded by death and destruction with no end in sight. Finally, her thoughts diverted. “Do you have any spare pelts around?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  “I want to make some two-piece sarongs for working out.”

  “I have some of your originals.”

  She smiled. “Thank you, but I would like to create new ones.”

  “Okay. But you should talk to me, Chelan. Your heart is far from healed.”

  Chelan eyed him incredulously. “Really? After only a couple of days, my heart is far from healed? Imagine that.”

  “I did not mean it that way. I meant that because your wounds are so raw, you should talk to me. You need to work through this, to ask questions, and to sort everything out.”

  “I understand that. But just because I am looking for a distraction at the moment doesn’t mean I am avoiding the whole affair. Quite the contrary. I need to keep busy while I begin to process this whole mess… years upon years of mess.”

  Finally, Braedon nodded and brought her some fresh pelts. Chelan took them. “You need help with the supplies?”

  “Not at all. I can organize everything. No problem.”

  Chelan nodded and immediately set to work with the hides, never once looking up.

  Braedon watched her as he unpacked the goods, his concern mounting. She was denying reality, Talon’s brutal death forcing her mind to recede into some dark pit. But someday, her armor would crack, and he knew that the explosion from within would be far from subtle. All he could hope for now was that he would be there for her when that happened.

  Braedon turned his attention back to the supplies, unexpectedly smiling to himself. They weren’t exactly living on their own this time, but that was okay. Part of the deal struck with Lethiason was that a supply ship would arrive every four Iceanean months. Braedon knew it was the Commander’s way of setting his own mind at ease, assuring himself both that Chelan would be cared for adequately and that Korba’s mental torment would be somewhat allayed by the act.

  Braedon continued sorting through the materials, and then he became still. He stared down at the sealed urn and then looked at Chelan, her head hanging over her work. Carefully, he removed the urn from its container and set it gently upon a large rock. He knew it would remain there until she came to grips with all that had happened. Then, and only then, would she find the strength to lay Talon’s remains, and her own mind, to rest.

  Braedon spent the next couple of hours putting supplies away and securely storing the foodstuffs and anything else the Batex could get into. Then he lay down on a fur and simply watched her. Her long, slender fingers worked the material, a fine laser easing the cutting of the fabric. Time passed, and finally, she looked up, a contented smile on her pretty lips. She glanced at him, and then she knelt. She unbound her tunic and slid it over her head.

  Braedon found his loins instantly warm in response to her voluptuous exposure, but he knew their relationship, whatever form it would take, needed time to flourish. At some point, he hoped, she would come to him for more than simple companionship, but until then, he would not press her or take advantage of her in her fragile state.

  He continued to watch as she slipped into the bikini-like top, the soft material hugging her full brea
sts tightly. She adjusted the straps, their tautness further supporting her. Then she stood and shimmied into the bottoms, the fine suede barely concealing the golden curls of her womanhood, the narrow sides hugging her shapely hips.

  Then she smiled at him. “There,” she uttered triumphantly.

  Braedon grinned, his head resting on his hand. “Eventually, perhaps, you may have made just that much more work for me.”

  Chelan returned his sly grin. “We will see.” And her skin pinked slightly.

  Braedon chuckled and then sat up. “Dinnertime. Are you game?”

  Chelan nodded and shuffled over to him. He looked about them. “Let us see—the menu choices are of the caverns or of the Empire. Which do you prefer?”

  “Hmmm… I prefer the caverns, but I had better stick with something more bland. My stomach is still touchy.”

  Braedon nodded and handed her some of the powdered nutrient. Chelan stirred it into water and then sipped it while Braedon tackled some tough Batex jerky. He studied her. “So, what do you want do in the coming days?”

  Chelan took another sip and smiled. “I would really like to explore some of the deeper caverns with you, if you will take me.”

  Braedon hesitated. “Some are still lit from my previous travels. As for the really deep ones, we don’t have enough orbs for lighting right now. Most of those caverns will be too dark for you regardless. Few receive surface light like this one, and all the connecting corridors are pitch black. Eventually, even my eyes fail me. I suppose we could use the handheld lights, but they would not give you a true feel for the scope of the tunnels or the caverns.”

  Chelan stared at him as another idea came to her. “Your eyes—do they capture the light like the Warlords’?”

  “Yes, but not as well.”

  Chelan thought back to the first time on Earth, when she realized it was Dar she was with. They were making love, and as dusk turned to dark, her suspicions were confirmed by his luminescent eyes.

  She moved to her knees and stared into Braedon’s eyes, his irises as black as coal. Then she looked in the distance to a darkened tunnel. “I want to see them in the blackness.” And she jumped to her feet.

  Braedon rose and took her by the hand. Chelan followed him into the tunnel. Within a few meters, their pace slowed as Chelan’s vision began to wane. Then Braedon stopped and placed her hands on his chest for orientation. He looked back toward the cavern, his eyes netting the dim light that eluded Chelan.

  She looked up. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “They glow a pale red.”

  Braedon nodded. “Yes, and the Warlords’?”

  Chelan continued to gaze into his eyes, his irises the only thing she could see in the inky blackness. “An almost crystalline blue-white—an eerie, ghostly blue.”

  “Well, you had better consult a doctor as to the differences between us, but I do know that their nighttime acuity is far better than ours.”

  Chelan’s fingers dug into him. “When you look at me here, what do you see?”

  “No color. Your features are discernible, but they are somewhat grainy, all in shades of gray. I do know that what sets the Warlords apart from other cultures and species, and even from some of their own blood, is that they can see color also. But I could never hope to explain that.”

  Chelan shuddered. “This is all so strange. You can see me, yet, if not for your touch and your eyes, you would be nonexistent to me. I feel handicapped.”

  Braedon chuckled. “Well, then, let us return to the caverns, where your pretty eyes can once again function.” His hands took hers, and he eased her way out.

  Entering the chamber, Chelan spoke. “That’s better.” Then she glanced at him. “It has been a very long day.”

  Braedon watched as she started back toward the pool. There she arranged some furs and sat down. Braedon crouched next to her. “You are tired?”

  Chelan nodded. “Completely drained. And you?”

  Braedon nodded. “It has indeed been a long day. We should both get some rest.” Then he stood and started to walk away.

  “You don’t have to leave me if you don’t wish,” she uttered quietly.

  Braedon halted in his tracks. “You are sure?”

  She smiled and patted the fur next to her as she lay down contentedly on her side. Braedon moved in behind her, coiling about her and pressing her back into him. He closed his eyes. They fit together so well, and he fell asleep immediately.

  *****

  Soon, days turned into weeks. Braedon kept close track of his precious roommate. But while she fared well physically, he was becoming increasingly concerned about her mental state. For the most part, though she appeared happy, she was prone to long bouts of quiet staring, her eyes unseeing, her body inert. Between these periods, their days went on as normal, yet he was beginning to believe that a lot of her apparent joy was actually forced.

  She had expressed the desire to follow him into the caverns, but she rarely did. Instead, she spent long hours working on clothing. She always greeted him enthusiastically upon his returns, eager to hear about his adventures and to look at any new data he had collected. But as for actually accompanying him, she seemed reluctant to leave the security of the cavern they called home. And despite all her activities around the cave, Braedon observed that she never once approached or even looked at Talon’s urn. Nor did she mention the Empire. To her, it was as if the outside world no longer existed.

  As their second month together came to an end, Braedon was concerned enough to consider taking her to the South with him for some medical help. She was not healing emotionally, and he knew not how to help her. But he was reluctant to introduce her to yet another alien society, in case the exposure heaped yet more stress onto her already precarious state.

  Today, he watched her as she sat cross-legged and stared at the floor, a small solution feature the subject of her scrutiny. When he sat in front of her, she didn’t so much as blink. He studied her for a long time and then called to her softly, “Chelan?” But she remained unresponsive. He shuffled closer. “Chelan?” And her eyes finally fluttered to his.

  Then she smiled. “What’s up?”

  Braedon hesitated. “Chelan, we need to talk.”

  “Okay. What would you like to talk about?”

  Braedon took a deep breath. “About what has happened.”

  Chelan looked away. “No. I am not ready.”

  Braedon reached for her cheek, and he turned her face back to his. “You must. Your pain is drowning you in an abyss so deep you may never surface. You must begin to heal.”

  “I am fine,” she assured him.

  Braedon shook his head slowly. “No, my Lady. You are dying inside.”

  “What makes you an expert?” she sniped unexpectedly.

  Braedon gave her a weak smile. “I don’t need to be an expert to see your pain. It is so strong, I can taste it.”

  Chelan glanced away again. “Oh, I am so sorry, Braedon. But I will be fine.” Her gaze lingered on some faraway point. “I should get more exercise, though.” She looked back at him. “I will start accompanying you on your journeys more often.”

  Braedon nodded. “I would welcome your presence.” He hesitated. “In the meantime, Chelan, you should do something with Talon’s remains. You must set him free.” He watched her become very still. Then her first tears toward recovery were finally released. She sagged into his lap, her quiet sobs yanking at his heart. He stroked her slender back, allowing her to sort through her grief.

  Time passed, and finally, she looked up at him. “I am not even sure why I am crying,” she confessed. “I no longer know what I feel.”

  “Sorrow?’

  “No—confusion, maybe. Just tired of it all. Dead inside.”

  Braedon cradled her head in his hand. “You were with Talon a long time, my Lady. Though your relationship with him was tumultuous from the beginning, I do believe you loved the man in the end.”

  She looked away for a long time. Then she nodded once. �
��Maybe,” she whispered. “Maybe on some level.”

  “It is because of all your time with him and your eventual bond that all of this is so hard. If Talon had remained your mortal enemy until the end, you would have embraced Korba from the moment he stepped into the Command Center.”

  “It is more complicated than that. Yes, I would have embraced Korba for his liberation. That is obvious. But long ago, I forsook him for Dar. How far into our reunion would our joy last once the true depth of that betrayal was revealed and the pain of it oozed to the surface.”

  Braedon looked away.

  “In addition,” Chelan said, “I am not dealing only with the slaying of Talon in front of me. There is so much more to reconcile. And for that matter, I have no idea how much Korba even knows about Dar and me.”

  He looked at her. “I cannot imagine all that you have to sort through. Yet look where Korba stands despite all.”

  Chelan sighed. “My mind is a mess. Any future with the Empire is so convoluted that I cannot imagine a single positive outcome. That is why I want to avoid it at all costs. I have so many questions, I could never hope to have them all answered. And yet, the biggest question of them all, the one closest to me, just where my heart lies…? I can’t even answer that. I feel like my life dances upon a thin wire, a hot lead that shorts out with no warning and with no solution. One minute, I am stable, my world perfect, and then in the blink of an eye, I have been electrocuted, and everything I have known has been burned to the ground. And each time I recover and rebuild, the switch is thrown again, and everything crumples back to ashes. As I said before, I can no longer handle being with the men at the top. Their world is too volatile, too dangerous. Men in the Iceanean culture do not get fired from their jobs. They get killed. And right now, when I am leagues away from sorting out even the simplest of matters, the one thing I know for sure is that I don’t know who or what I want anymore. My life is in limbo for the foreseeable future.”