The more Brie explored, the more astounded she became. The space teemed with life. From floor to ceiling, plants thrived. Beehives situated throughout provided a means of pollination. Each level of the round space provided a home for different plant species. Fish swam in the pool. A variety of birds nested in the trees. A beetle scurried over a mound of dark rocks. Climbing the wall in all directions, thick brown roots disappeared into vents. The space lived and breathed.
A door opened below and a uniformed figure entered, checked a series of icons on a screen, and began a circuit.
Brie shifted and shot through the mesh vent cover and flew toward the lab. Midway, she passed a branch in the shaft. The urge to see more tempted her down its length. The smell of Human vomit wafted through the vent at the end of the shaft. The space beyond was dark. The Star of Truth throbbed a warning and then a tingle of recognition.
Crawling through the mesh screen, she remained hidden beneath the cover. Darkness as thick as molasses left her blind. A low moan alerted her to someone close by. A ceiling light began to glow. She froze in place. The door opened. A man entered and crossed to the cot beneath the vent. He shook a boy who lay there in a tight fetal position.
Ira moaned again, uncurled, and with the help of the man sat up. He sipped from an offered cup and watched the man clean the floor and set a bucket where he could reach it.
“Your stomach should settle soon. Try to rest.”
He left. The door slid shut. The light dimmed. Ira stretched out and stared into the blackness.
Brie’s thoughts churned. Ira is here. The Mocendi must have found Melback. If so, the rest of the crew must be on this ship .
As much as she wanted to tell Ira she was close by, she knew better. From her hiding place, she could sense someone monitoring his thoughts. All it would take was one slip to give her away. A quick search of the room had shown her, that like Renn Whalend’s room, this one had surveillance lenses in all corners.
Darting back through the mesh cover, she followed the shaft beyond the lab and soon discovered two more cells. A quick search informed her that Esán slept in the first one. Elf sat on the floor in the second, hugging his legs to his chest, his head resting on his knees. An invisible Shyllee had almost given her away. She could find no sign of Desirol or Torgin. Before I look for them, I’d better check in with Renn.
She arrived at the lab, bursting with news about the unexpected passengers she had discovered. Renn Whalend, aka Aunt Henri, was nowhere to be found.
Misgivings kept Yaro, in laridae form, perched in a tree overlooking the tidy farm where he had delivered the women to Gregos and Cayled. Impatient to return for Tamosh but unwilling to leave without making sure Renn was safe, he made himself remain still and watchful.
The barn doors swung wide and a large cargo wagon rumbled out under Calegri’s cool, blue light. Cayled sat next to Gregos on the high bench, reins in hand, guiding two broad-backed farm horses down the track between fields.
Swooping low, Yaro scanned the deep cargo bed and its stacks of boxes and barrels. Only when he felt satisfied that Torgin’s mother and her companion could not be seen, did he bank away toward the Cliffs of Tymine.
He glided to a stop on the beach below the cliffs and shifted. Tamosh dodged free of the shadowed recess outside the hidden door to the cave and jogged across the sand, unease in his face and Cayled’s shotgun clutched in his hand.
“Right after you left with the women, a phalacro landed on the rocks yonder and shifted to a man in a Mocendi cape. Seemed agitated. A small vortex formed overhead. He vanished into it.”
Yaro gazed up at the heavens. “Do you think he saw us leave?”
A quick shake of the head. “No. Seemed pretty self-absorbed. He did send a mental probe along the cliff face, but…” He shrugged. “I watched him from a concealed recess a short distance down the beach. He found nothing.”
“You took a big chance, my friend.”
Tamosh’s gaze flicked over the cliffs. “Our sister taught us a few things. One is how to blend in with our environment. Came in handy tonight. We should go.”
Yaro studied the intense face. “Can you blend in with my feathers?”
“I can and will.”
“It is good.” Yaro shifted.
Soon Tamosh’s weight pressed against his vulture back. Strong wings carried them upward.
Tamosh looked down at the cliffs, fields, and woods and grinned. Not even the chill of the night breeze or the events of the past few turnings could spoil his pleasure as the world glided by beneath him. Always dreamt of flying, of stretching my wings and soaring. He laughed to himself. This is the next best thing.
All too soon, trees fell away into rocky, windblown fields. Ahead, he could make out the dark outline of a barn and in a small copse of trees, a farm house. As they flew closer, he tensed. Smoke billowed from the barn’s loft window. Flames licked at the dry wood.
Yaro swooped into the cover of the trees and shifted. “This is the farm of Cayled’s neighbor. It is not good that the barn burns. We must see why this is so.”
Tamosh loaded the shotgun. Yaro shaped a small, brown bat. Bending low, Tamosh dodged through the field to a tall hedgerow paralleling the side of the darkened house. Nothing stirred. A woman’s frightened scream broke the night silence. The sound of running feet, furniture upending, and a man’s hoarse cry sent the bat through an open window. Tamosh dashed toward the house. Bounding onto a small porch, he pressed his back against the rough siding near the window and listened. A floor board creaked. A man swore. It grew quiet again.
Yaro appeared at the window and motioned him inside. Tamosh entered to find a man sprawled at Yaro’s feet and a woman standing across from him. Terrified eyes darted from the man on the floor to the imposing figure of the Pentharian.
Tamosh stepped forward. “We are friends. You met my brother, Gregos Senndi, earlier today with Cayled Finnaberry. I’m Tamosh Senndi. I believe you know Yaro. We were on our way to join them when we saw the fire in your barn.”
The woman hugged herself and suppressed a shiver. “I’m Janis. My husband Frith loaned his wagon to Cayled. Not long after they left, two men pounded on front door.” She choked back a sob. “They took Frith. I don’t know where he is. This man came back and tried to force me—” Sobs shook her shoulders.
Yaro’s red lips formed a thin line, his eyes held a coldness that made Tamosh shudder. The Pentharian picked up the unconscious man and dumped him on the couch. “Tie him up. He has much to explain. I will look for Frith. Keep the house dark in case there are others around.” A hawk shot out the window.
Janis gasped. “I’d never met a Pentharian until he brought Gregos to see Frith. I never expect him to change so fast.” She glanced at the unconscious man. “I’ll get rope.”
While she was gone, Tamosh searched the man’s pockets. He withdrew a small ampule of black vapor wrapped in a soft cloth and held it up in the dim light, then slipped it in his pocket. The man on the couch moaned. Janis dumped rope at his feet. With her help, Tamosh secured him to a chair.
The front door opened and closed softly. Janis gripped his arm. Yaro entered carrying a soot covered man and laid him on the couch. “Your companion lives, Janis. He was trapped beneath a wagon. The other man is dead.”
Tamosh sent him a questioning look.
Yaro smiled. “I believe our farmer got to him first.”
“Frith.” Janis knelt and brushed his hair back from his face. “Frith, open your eyes and look at me.”
Tamosh withdrew the ampule from his pocket and offered it to Yaro. “Found this on him.” He indicated the man in the chair.
Yaro fingered the tiny glass vial and handed it back. “The MasTer’s Reach. It must be destroyed. I do not know how it is done.”
“Marji told us the only way is to break it beneath the surface in a large body of water.” Tamosh slipped it back in his pocket. “Why do you think they are after us?”
Janis spoke over her sh
oulder. “They’re looking for a boy with a compass and a girl with the Star of Truth on the back of her neck. Seemed pretty sure they’re with Cayled and Gregos.”
Frith coughed a harsh, raspy cough and stared up at his companion. “How…”
She moved aside. “You know Yaro. This is Tamosh, the brother of Gregos.”
The farmer pushed himself to sitting and noted the man in the chair. “The other one?”
Yaro said, “You did well, my friend. He will bother you no longer. My question is what to do with this one. It is vital that we leave to warn our friends they are being pursued.”
Frith spoke up. “Omudi, the Dreela of Geran, is offering a reward for anything regarding the League. I’ll get a message to TiCeed. The reward will help us with a new barn.”
Tamosh stroked his beard. “I believe that is good. This man is not a DiMensioner. I feel nothing that suggests he has the gift. Relevart told us the Mocendi have been withdrawn. He’s just an errand boy.”
Yaro added, “Dreela Omudi should share any information that could help the VarTerel with the Dreelas TheLise.”
Frith pulled a wrinkled hanky from his pocket, and wiped the soot from his face. “We’ll make sure he gets the message.” He jerked a thumb at the man. “What do we do with him until we turn him over?”
“If you will bring me a cup, Janis, I will leave serum for you to put in his water. It will keep him unconscious.”
Soon good-byes were said and Tamosh once again experienced the elation of flight. Fingering the ampule in his pocket sobered him. Now I just have to find a safe place to destroy it.
Allynae enjoyed his short time with Stebben and Roandee. He liked and trusted Stebben. Once he got past Roandee’s startling good looks, he found that WoNa’s younger brother intrigued him. The dust devil had been his work.
Flying high above Shu Chenaro, Allynae forced himself to keep his thoughts focused on the present. Although still protected by the shields, awareness was essential. Ahead, he could make out the border. Tents lined both sides. Men patrolled and guards were posted in both camps. Too bad about Nissasa. Didn’t like him, but wouldn’t have wished his fate on anybody.
Swooping lower, he stretched his talons earthward. Human feet touched sand. Of all the Arts of DiMensionery, shape shifting had become his favorite. He loved the gift of flight and marveled at the power and the cunning of the red hawk. Given a choice, however, shaping Starfire… He had no words to describe that most breathtaking experience.
The soft crunch of feet on sand alerted him to the approach of a soldier.
“Your name and your business.”
“Allynae Nadrugia, brother of the Guardian of Myrrh, here to confer with Lorsedi Telisnoe.”
Suspicious eyes studied him. “Can’t let you through, sir, unless you can prove your identity.”
Gerolyn ducked a tent line. “Hello, Allynae. Lorsedi is waiting to hear your news.” She nodded to the soldier. “Thank you. I will take him from here.”
The man frowned, shrugged, and walked away.
Gerolyn’s gaze followed his retreating figure. “RewFaaran men have a hard time with a woman in authority. Change is coming. It will be more difficult for some planets than for others.”
She escorted him through the camp to Lorsedi’s tent. The man on duty nodded them in. The Largeen Joram of RewFaar and the Pentharian Voer stood as they entered.
Lorsedi motioned them to the table. “We are anxious for news. How are my sons?”
Allynae shared the happenings in Trinuge. Lorsedi’s face remained expressionless as he learned that his oldest son would be a five year old for the rest of his life. The description of Desirol’s possession by the Mindeco and the measures put into place to protect him, and then his subsequent kidnapping by the Mocendi brought the Largeen Joram to his feet. He paced to the tent entrance and back and looked down at Allynae.
“You tell me the Mindeco has Desirol and that he is beyond our reach. How do we remove the creature without killing him? How do we rescue him and his friends?” Anger tinted his fair complexion. “Yaro has failed me.”
Voer’s alien face maintained its perpetual calm. “Only a battle has been lost, Lorsedi. The war has yet to be won.”
Allynae sat straighter. “Wolloh and Relevart have gathered a group to pursue the Mocendi and to rescue the children. If I did not trust them to bring back my girls, your granddaughters, I would not be here. Nor would I be on my way to Myrrh. Yaro continues to do his part as directed by the VarTerel. All is not lost, Lorsedi.” He scooted his stool back and stood. “I must leave. Stebben has been initiated to High DiMensioner and with TheLise’s help will oversee the safety of DerTah. They will be in touch.”
Lorsedi rose, military bearing eclipsing his anger. “My regards to Myrrh’s Guardian. I hope to meet her someday.”
Gerolyn walked him to the edge of the camp. “The Largeen Joram is frustrated that he is here and not with Wolloh. I do not blame him.” She sighed. “Please take care of SparrowLyn. Tell her I am proud of her, Allynae.”
His brows arched. “You know?”
She smiled. “I am her mother. When she is fearful or uneasy, I feel it. I’ve let Grantese Tesilend know you are on the way. It seems that Paisley and Stee wish to return with you.”
“Thank you for everything, Gerolyn. I’ll take good care of your daughter.”
His shift was instantaneous. Hawk wings carried him toward the gateway camp. Paisley, Stee, and Jeet awaited his arrival in the Grantese’s tent. News was exchanged. Jeet led the way between dunes. Soon, the faint spin of the vortex could be seen. Two RewFaaran soldiers motioned them forward.
It had been decided that Stee and Paisley would take the gateway to Naidisbo Canyon. From there, Stee would carry Paisley to Nemttachenn Tower and then find Mondago and his men. Jeet spoke with the guards, made his farewells, and returned to camp.
Stee and Paisley jumped first. Allynae watched them go. He murmured the Key for the Dojanack Caverns, felt the silence embrace him, saw the flash of vibrant colors, and arrived on the outskirts of Meos.
Sitrio, Yookotay’s right hand, stepped from the shadows. “Your sister is most anxious to see you. She is in her quarters.”
Allynae thanked him and strode down the tunnel, his heart leaping with the anticipation of seeing his companion, of inhaling the scent of her, of holding her close at last.
Henri sat across the desk from a good-looking, blond Mocendi who had introduced himself as Thorlu Tangorra. The moment the attendant ushered her into his presence, she sensed intelligence that outstripped Vygel’s and a shrewdness and cunning that Vintrusie did not possess. Danger sizzled in the space. Danger for her, for Brie, and for Renn Whalend.
Drawing on Renn’s intelligence and her own gifts and training, she buried Henri Avetlire even deeper and waited, hands folded in her lap and eyes alert and interested.
Thorlu rounded the desk and sat on the edge next to her chair. “Where is your son?”
Her gaze flew to Vygel as he enter the space and back to Thorlu. “I thought he was here, on your ship.”
“We believe he was with you and your friends on ZaltRaca. Tell me what their plans are.” The words were calm, on the edge of soothing.
Renn wanted to shiver but kept herself still. “The only person I know on ZaltRaca is the woman who cared for me.”
“What about the brothers who owned the ship that was bringing Torgin to you? When did you meet them?”
She squeezed her hands tighter together and let confusion reign in her mind. “Torgin left Idronatti several moon cycles ago. I have not heard from him since, nor have I seen him. When I last heard about his whereabouts, he was in a desert.” She shot an accusing look in Vygel’s direction. “I was kidnapped and taken to the cottage on ZaltRaca. I have no information to share.”
Thorlu walked back around the desk and sat down. “We have ways of making you talk, Renn.”
She studied the handsome face, the calculating gray-green eyes. “You hav
e had someone monitoring my every thought since I arrived here, which should tell you that I don’t have any information to share.”
His brows shot up.
“Yes, Thorlu, I have felt your mind probes. In case you are unaware, I have been working on how to control minds. The brain is one of my specialties. I know when someone is fooling with mine.” She paused, took a breath, and placed her hands palms down on the desk. Locking an unwavering gaze on Thorlu, she continued. “I’m glad Torgin is not on this ship. If I knew where he was, I would do my best not to tell you. You can pick whatever you want from my brain, so you already know what I know about my son.”
A probe stung her mind. She held her gaze steady. The probe withdrew.
Thorlu directed Vygel, “Take her back to the lab. She has work to do.” He gave her a malicious smile. “As soon as we have your son, Renn Whalend, we will be taking you to The MasTer. We shall see how he deals with you.”
Vygel grabbed her arm and yanked her to her feet. She looked from his hand to his face. “I have no choice about going with you, Vygel. You don’t have to drag me.”
His eyes bulged more than usual. His thin-lipped mouth worked but no words formed. Thorlu laughed and held the door open. “At least you are entertaining, Renn.”
In the quiet, empty the lab, Brie paced the floor in the storage closet. Where are you, Renn?
Her answer came with the almost silent shish, shish of the door. Shifting, she flew into the lab.
The figure of Renn Whalend sank onto a chair and gave the tiniest shake of her head. Pulling blonde hair back from her face, she interlaced her fingers behind her head and closed her eyes. When she finally opened them, she picked up her comp-tab and walked to the storage closet.
The UnFolding Collection Three Page 46
