by S. L. Viehl
Tell him nothing more than you already have. Reever sounded adamant.
His urgency made my heart pound, and I curled my fingernails into my palms, fighting for calm. “I only came on board the ship a short time ago. I do not know much of the Jorenians, or why they came here, other than to help the people who were sick.”
PyrsVar didn’t appear convinced, and bent over to put his face very close to mine. “You sweat, little healer. Do you tell me the truth, or do you seek to deceive me?”
“I am hot. I tell you what I know of those I serve.”
“This I know.” He showed me his pointed teeth. “You serve me now.”
His interest had grown from casual curiosity to something more menacing. I suspected there were few if any females in the camp, and his curiosity about humanoids appeared endless. Of course I was also at his mercy. It was not hard to imagine what was going to happen.
“If you wish.” I felt his hand in my hair and tried to disconnect my thoughts from my husband’s. There was no reason he had to witness this part of the ordeal.
It will not happen, Reever assured me.
Something in PyrsVar’s eyes changed. “I know your scent.” He said this hesitantly, as if he wasn’t certain. He took in a deep, slow breath. “I thought I had tasted it before when first I saw you.”
Had Cherijo known this male on Catopsa, where the Omorr said she had been a healer among slaves? Had PyrsVar been taken from there and brought to Vtaga? How could the Hsktskt have trained him to think and move and smell as they did?
“You have felt the same thing, yes?” he was asking me.
“I have never seen you before, but at the hospital, I thought you looked like someone I know.” I wanted to know why I felt that sense of familiarity, too, but I would not jeopardize the safety of the captain or any of the Torins by telling him more about them. My eyes went to the clan symbol on his throat. Like all the Torins, it was black and shaped like an upswept wing. It was faintly blurred, though, as if smudged. “Were you brought here from another world? Have you ever left Vtaga?”
“I have always been here, nowhere else. I think that we were meant to meet.” He spoke with more assurance now. “You were meant to come to me, and belong to me.”
“He had his chance,” the female voice that had spoken to me on the launch said from some place behind my eyes. “He blew it. Don’t listen to him, Cherijo. Do you hear me? Don’t listen—”
I pressed my hands against my ears. No one but me and PyrsVar occupied the shelter. Was I going mad, like some skela did after too many years of skinning the faces from the dead?
No, beloved, Reever’s thoughts flooded over mine. You are not mad. It is only something from your life before—Maggie, the woman who raised Cherijo, is trying to come back into your life now. But you are not Cherijo, and I do not think she can take over your mind.
Duncan. I took in a quick, sharp breath. I’m afraid of what she will do to me.
For now, only know that I love you. Whatever happens. Whatever comes between us. Nothing can change what I feel for you, Jarn.
Soothing warmth enveloped me from the inside out as Reever sent a continuous stream of wordless reassurance that flowed from his emotions. He did love me, as he had said, and it was beyond anything I had felt, beyond my love for our child, beyond my love for the work, Teulon, Resa, and the few beauties of living I had known thus far. Reever’s love was a universe surrounding me, endless and unfathomable, and it would never end.
He knew I was not Cherijo, and yet he gave this love to me as freely and completely as he had to her.
As this happened, PyrsVar wound my hair around his claws. I did not fight him. Whatever he did to my body didn’t matter. Reever was inside me. Reever kept me safe. Reever would be there waiting when this was over, and we would go on together, and I would learn how to be worthy of such a love as he had for me.
“Seduhanar,” one of the guards said from the entry.
“Not now,” PyrsVar muttered.
“We have discovered two intruders in the warren.”
“Kill them,” PyrsVar said, and then moved back when I took a sharp breath. He turned to glare at the guard. “Hold. Who are they?”
“Juveniles. One male of the people, and one female”—the guard nodded toward me—“like her.”
There was only one other female Terran on the planet. I scrambled to my feet and would have run out of the tent, but PyrsVar caught me with one arm.
“She is my daughter,” I said, struggling to free myself even as I knew it was hopeless. “He is the son of TssVar. They are only children. Please.”
“Bring them to me,” the war master said. He lifted me off my kicking feet and put me on his eye level. “We do not harm young ones if we can help it.”
I stopped fighting his hold. “You won’t hurt them?”
He shook his head. “They pose little threat, and I can use them in other ways.” He set me down. “Tell me, Healer, will everyone who came with you on the ship end up in my warren?”
I hoped not. “I do not know how they could come here by themselves. Your men must have taken them when you abducted us.”
“My men only had orders to take your kind, and when we left the Akade’s land we had only you and the male. Or so I thought.” PyrsVar turned as Marel and CaurVar were marched into the tent. Both appeared dirty but otherwise unharmed. “Who are you, and what do you want here in my camp?”
“You took my mama and daddy, you bad man,” Marel scolded him without the slightest hesitation or show of fear. “I want them back.”
CaurVar’s gaze caught mine, and he shook his head slightly before he spoke to PyrsVar. “I am the youngest son of Akade TssVar, second to the Hanar,” he told the Jorenian outlaw. “I will serve as hostage. Release these warm-bloods, for they are useless to you.”
PyrsVar’s mouth curled on one side. “I see that you are blood of the Akade. The warm-bloods will remain. You will all be made useful.” To the guard, he said, “Take them and put them with the male.”
“Wait. May I first check them and see that they are uninjured?” As soon as he inclined his head, I rushed over to my daughter and pulled her into my arms. “How did you get here?” I whispered as I ran my hands over her small form.
Marel glared at our captor before hugging me tightly and murmuring against my ear, “I took CaurVar and moved us to one of their fliers. They have spaces in the back where we could fit without them seeing. We were going to rescue you.” She slipped something that felt like a weapon into the waistband of my trousers. “Only I went to sleep after I moved us, and then the bad men found us when CaurVar woke me up.”
She had done the same thing during the Jado Massacre, teleporting herself, Reever, and Teulon’s son Xan from the Cloud Walk before it had imploded. I kept an arm around her as I quickly checked TssVar’s son, who was also unharmed.
“I am sorry, Healer,” he said in a low voice. “I do not know how Marel did this thing. One moment I was running toward my father and the next I was in a cargo hold with her and …” He shook his head.
“Take them,” PyrsVar said to the guard. I quickly kissed my daughter and touched CaurVar’s shoulder before the children were led out of the tent.
Reever, I thought, trying to reestablish our link, but he did not respond. Reever, Marel and CaurVar are here. Try to free yourself and get to them. Take them away from here.
“So now I have four captives,” PyrsVar said thoughtfully. “Many more and I will have to send for more supplies.”
I wiped the tears from my face before I turned to meet his amused gaze. “Release Reever and the children. They are not as valuable as I am. I will stay with you willingly and not attempt an escape for as long as you wish. You have my word.”
“I do not need your word. I have your child. That will make you do whatever I say.” He went to a storage container and opened it. From it he drew out a more casual robe, into which he shrugged. “Our leader will wish to interrogate all of y
ou, but that will wait. We will share a meal and rest together, and you will tell me everything you have not about the people on the ship.”
THIRTEEN
I tried to remain calm and clearheaded. If we were to escape the outlaws’ encampment, I would need to focus on that and not the fear that this renegade Jorenian would have us all executed.
The meal PyrsVar shared with me consisted not of the vegetarian fare Jorenians preferred, or of the synthetic raw, bloody flesh that was the usual diet of Hsktskt. Instead, he opened a cloth bag and drew out what looked to be Iisleg journey strips, formed from some sort of fruit paste mixed with shreds of meat and grain kernels.
“You eat meat,” I murmured, surprised.
“I cannot eat the raw food the people make,” he said as he handed me two strips. “Do my kind eat raw food?”
“No, the Jorenians are vegetarians. They grow flowering plants on their homeworld for food, and eat synthetic vegetables when they travel.” I took a small bite from the strip and found the leathery substance strange-tasting but not unpleasant. If I had not been so nervous, I might have enjoyed it. “This food must travel well.”
“It does. We move camp every third day.” He devoured his portion and nodded toward mine. “Eat.”
With small bites I managed to force down one of the strips, but handed back the second. “I am not as large as you,” I explained. “I do not need as much to eat as a Jorenian.”
“My kind are like me in size, yes? What do they look like?”
“Yes.” I thought of the captain. “They have blue skin and black hair, and eyes like yours. They move their hands when they speak their language. They are very fond of children.”
He looked disgusted. “So fond they bring them on their ships to other worlds? Foolish people. Young ones do not belong in space. They should be protected, as the people here protect theirs.”
“Perhaps someone brought you here,” I said tentatively.
“No. This is my world.” He sat back and peered at me. “You have blunt teeth. Like a grazing animal.”
“My people hunt animals for food. We eat some plants when we can find them. That is why four of our teeth are pointed.” I felt a little foolish as I displayed my teeth and showed him my incisors, but it might establish some common ground between us. As it was, his only kinship bond was with the Hsktskt. “Your people have the same sort of teeth, so perhaps in ancient times they ate meat as well.”
He grunted. “They should not have stopped.”
“You should meet your people, War Master. They would be glad to know you.” Or they would be after they recovered from the shock of it, I thought. “I could arrange a meeting.”
“Why? I only look like them. My men are my people.” He seemed interested, though, as he handed me the container of the salty water I had tasted before. “Tell me about this world of theirs. Joren, you called it, yes? What is it like?”
I did not have Cherijo’s memories of visiting the Jorenian’s homeworld, but the crew had told me enough stories of the planet that I could give him some details. “The sky is said to be all colors, and the seas are purple. They grow many things, but the land is mostly covered with a silvery grass. There are grazing animals they raise for their milk called t’lerue. The Jorenians live together with their family HouseClans, in huge dwellings of white stone quarried from their mountains. There is little crime and no war or strife. Each family shares one name, and will die to defend its kin. They tell me no one is ever lonely because they always stay together.”
“There is always loneliness.” For a moment he looked wistful. “If there are no wars or strife, it must be crowded on this world. They would not have room for me.”
“They would make room. They are very devoted to family.” I decided to take a calculated risk and gestured toward his throat. “The mark on your neck is the same symbol I have seen on those who belong to HouseClan Torin. The Torin adopted me, and the ship on which I traveled here belongs to them. They could be your family.”
PyrsVar made the odd, choppy sound of Hsktskt amusement. “I do not wish to live among the warmblooded. They may look like me, but they are weak and foolish. My people are right. You are only fit to be slaves.” He gave me a long, intent look. “I have never had a female of my own.”
“Is that what I am to be? Your slave?”
He imitated my smile for the first time. “Do not be afraid. You are mostly docile, and you breed small children, but the young one has interesting coloring, and some courage. The leader can have the others, but I think I will keep you for myself.” He moved to his feet and walked toward me. “I will not harm you, so long as you please me. Perhaps I will let you be mother to my children.”
I did not want to kill him, but to save Marel and CaurVar I would. I turned slightly away to hide the hand I eased under the hem of my tunic. Marel had not passed a weapon to me, I discovered when I touched the object tucked into my waistband, but an infuser like the one ChoVa had given me at the quarantine hospital. How she had obtained the instrument, I could not guess, but it was almost a relief to press the buttons that filled the delivery chamber with neuroparalyzer.
PyrsVar crouched down in front of me. “Why do you cringe?”
“You say I should not be afraid, but you have given me every reason to fear you,” I said.
“I have said I will not harm you, and I always keep my vows.” He looked down at my body with some interest. “I still have not seen what is under your garments. You will show that to me now.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned close, pressing my cheek against his. “Please do not hurt me,” I whispered as I drew out the infuser.
“Do not give me reason to.” He wrapped an arm around me and rubbed his face against mine. “I like your scent. It is like the air in the high places.”
I moved my head back to smile up into his face, and quickly jammed the infuser into his neck and released the drug. He threw me away from him with a roar of surprise, then staggered and fell to his knees.
The sand beneath the tent rug had cushioned my fall, so I was back on my feet in a moment. I picked up the whip he had tossed to one side and uncoiled it, holding it ready in the event I would need to defend myself.
“You lied,” PyrsVar gasped, pressing a hand to his neck and struggling to stay upright.
“Yes,” I said as I watched him topple over. “I did.”
I waited a few moments before I went near him, and then checked his pulse. His heart beat faster than a Jorenian’s should have, and his body temperature felt lower, but he was in no danger of dying from the dose. I rolled him onto his side so that his airways would remain clear and open, and then went to the flap to open a gap in the seam and look out.
Night had fallen, as had the temperature, and no one was standing guard by PyrsVar’s tent. From the lights and shadows inside the other shelters, I assumed the outlaws had retreated inside to protect themselves from the colder night air.
Reever?
Here. Reever sent me a mental image of the tent where he was located. Cover yourself with something, and bring weapons.
I picked up PyrsVar’s robe and two of his blades before I stepped out of the tent. I waited in the shadows to make sure no one was about before I crossed the sand to the next tent. Inside, two guards were having an argument about where to move the camp. One wanted to go to the mountains in the east, while the other thought they should relocate to an underground network of caves to the south. I committed what they said to memory before moving away.
The tent where Reever and the children were being held was at the very edge of the camp, and no measure of security had been made to keep them inside. I saw why when I released the entry flap and slipped in.
Reever had been chained to the tent’s center pole. The children were manacled to his ankles. Reever had also been bound with a wire studded with sharp spikes and thin-edged bits of alloy that had been positioned to cut into his limbs if he moved. From the amount of blood running f
rom both of his arms, he had tried to move more than once.
“Mama,” Marel said, her dull eyes lighting up as soon as she saw me.
I lifted a finger to my lips and looked around the tent for something to use on the wire.
“There is an alloy cutter in there.” Reever nodded toward a container shoved in one corner.
I used one of the blades to pry off the lock and retrieved the cutting tool. “I used neuroparalyzer on the leader. It will only last a few hours.”
“That is enough.” Reever made no sound as I cut away the wire binding him, but caught my hands as I tried to examine his wounds. “Time for that later. The guards come to check on us every hour. We have to go now.”
He helped me release the children by cutting through the manacles’ locks. I wrapped CaurVar in the cloak I had taken from PyrsVar’s tent and checked outside the flap. “We are in the middle of the desert—how will we get back to the city?”
“The same way we got here,” my husband said as he picked up Marel. “By air.”
The outlaws’ sand gliders had been concealed beneath immense cloths dyed to appear like the desert sand. Reever did not remove the cloth from the first we came to, but reached under it and removed something from the glider before moving to the next.
“What are you doing?” I whispered as I led CaurVar and Marel by the hands behind him.
“Slowing them down.” He collected a dozen more of the devices before dumping them onto the ground and covering them with a mound of sand. “They will not be able to fly the other gliders without those.”
He uncovered the last of the gliders and strapped me and Marel to the back of it. CaurVar took position in front of Reever at the controls.
A shout came from the encampment, and the sand beneath my feet shook as heavy footsteps came toward us.
“Don’t look down,” my husband said as he engaged the engine, and immediately launched the glider. We soared straight up into the sky, weaving wildly as Reever avoided the displacer rounds being fired at us from below.
