Coalition 02.5 - The Kingbird

by Justine Davis

  “They know you’re trying to protect them, not just from what’s happening, but from even knowing about it.”

  “They are but children,” Dare said softly.

  “We are at war. They can’t be only children,” Rina said bluntly.

  She rose, took a few steps toward them. She looked around at them all. She was part of this family, they had all made sure she knew that, but Shaylah wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t have faced them down as intrepidly had she been a stranger in front of the highest seat of power on Trios. In fact, she knew she would, for had the girl not done exactly that when Dax had first brought her home, and he had been on trial for his life? Rina Carbray was a lot of bold in a small package.

  “They feel helpless to do anything about what’s happening to them and around them. They want to help, they want to do something. Anything. But they can’t. They just have to sit and watch those they love do battle and pray they come back.” She glanced at Dax. “Trust me. I know a lot about that feeling.”

  “Rina,” Dax began, but then stopped. Everyone in this room knew the story, knew how Dax had rescued her from Coalition hands at no small risk to himself. And how, thinking Trios destroyed and her people dead, he had kept her with him on his forays as the most hailed and feared skypirate in the system. Shaylah could imagine how the child she’d been had felt as the one solid presence in her life, the one person she felt connected to, had risked his life time after time, leaving her behind to wonder if he would come back alive.

  “This wasn’t just mischief,” Rina said. “Lyon’s a good talker, but he doesn’t lie. They wanted to strike a blow.”

  Shaylah listened intently. Rina knew their children better than almost anyone, since she was their chosen companion whenever a third was allowed to share their amazing bond. She was closer to them in age than the rest of their extended family, and she still had a spark—well, more than a spark—of her old troublemaking skills herself.

  “What would you suggest?” Califa asked.

  Her voice was quietly encouraging. She was as close to a mother as Rina had ever known since her own had been killed by the Coalition long before Dax had found her. For all that Shaylah had found it unlikely, becoming both an adoptive and biological mother had softened the very core of the woman who had once been the coolest, most calculating officer in the Coalition forces.

  “Give them a job, a real job, that’s more than just freeing Paraclon to work,” Rina said.

  “Such as?” Dax asked, one brow arching upward but his tone mild.

  “There must be some annoying little thing you or the king must do that’s crucial but simple and you’d be glad to be rid of it.”

  “There are countless things that fit that description,” Dare said dryly, making them all laugh. “But I’m at a loss to think of one this moment that would be ... safe enough.”

  “I think she’s right, and we shall have to think of something,” Shaylah said. “Thank you, Rina.”

  The girl—young woman now—smiled. And Shaylah realized it had been a while since she’d seen that charming, impish smile.

  Shaylah brought it up in a quiet aside to Califa as Rina went to refill her glass with the lingberry juice she loved.

  “Is it my imagination, or is Rina a bit glum of late?”

  “It’s that time of year. It always takes her that way.”

  Shaylah felt remiss for forgetting, no matter how busy her days had been since the last attack.

  “I had forgotten how close the anniversary was,” she said.

  Califa nodded, glanced at the girl who was like a daughter to her. “Hard to believe how long it’s been since he held Galatin against all odds.”

  “And since he went into the mountains and never came back.”

  “Yes. Fifty to one odds and it still took them six days to kill him and the men he led.”

  “I wish I had known him rather than of him,” Shaylah said.

  Califa shook her head. “Be thankful.” She glanced at her mate, who was deep in conversation with Dare. “The loss is hard enough for those who did.”

  “Dax,” Shaylah said.

  “I think he’d begun to think of him as a younger brother. They were much alike. But for Rina, who adored him as only a girl turning into a woman can, it is a wound that never heals.”

  Shaylah sighed. This long, constant battle against the Coalition had taken much from them. Family, friends, and peace for their children.

  “I think we need to take a day off,” she announced abruptly to the room.

  Dax and Dare turned, startled. Rina cocked her head thoughtfully, looking more like one of the legendary pixies of the Triotian woodlands than ever despite the fact that she was an adult now. In truth, she’d grown up harder and faster than any of them. She’d had to.

  “You have been working very hard,” Dare said, walking toward her.

  “And accomplishing a lot,” Califa put in. “I saw that the school is nearly finished.”

  Shaylah nodded but waved aside the compliments. Administering the rebuilding after Coalition attacks had become sadly routine. But it seemed too small a price to pay for the esteem and respect and position these people had given her. They had accepted her at first for Dare’s sake, but soon had warmed to the outworlder who had become their queen. She’d vowed never to take that for granted, and so far she thought she had succeeded.

  “Don’t underestimate the importance,” Dax said as he joined them. “I can’t tell you what the sight of their queen down in the rubble working alongside them means to the people.”

  “Throwing rocks seems to help my temper,” she said.

  “And that, my queen,” Dare added, “seeing that you are as angry as they are, means even more to them.”

  “But you, alive, strong, and returned to lead them means the most,” she said, slipping her arm around him. “I still think we need to take a day. Just for us, all of us, as a family.”

  “Shaylah,” Dare began, and she could see he was going to say he couldn’t.

  “Our children have never known peace,” she said before he could go on. “And while they have visited most of Trios as part of their education, they have never gone anywhere, to any of the beautiful places that survive, to simply enjoy being there.”

  “It has not been safe enough,” Dax said.

  “I know. But if they hold true to form—and that’s something the Coalition excels at—they won’t be back for another attack for at least ten days. The seven of us could slip out for just a day, unnoticed, if we went alone.”

  Rina made a small sound, but when Shaylah looked at her she was studying the floor. The girl never seemed to get over being amazed at how they all considered her one of their joined family. It was, Shaylah thought, part of her considerable charm.

  “It could be done,” Dare agreed, but he still sounded reluctant. Duty claimed this man like no other she had ever known. He was a leader in the finest sense, and she admired him nearly as much as she adored him.

  And worried about him.

  “Think of it, Dare. Just the people you love most, twenty-four hours with no demands, no decisions.”

  He let out a breath and looked at the ceiling of the room. Shaylah knew it was to keep her from seeing just how much the idea appealed. She pressed her advantage, determined to see this man she so loved free of the burden for at least this short time.

  “You deserve this. We all do. The children most of all. Especially if we’re going to put them to work when we return,” she added with a smile.

  “Where were you thinking of going?” Califa asked, and something in her old friend’s voice told her she had her support in this. She felt a spark of relief; together, she and this premier tactician could get this done. She focused on Dare.

  “I had in mind someplace that has escaped damage, despite it all, and continues to. And stands ready, with a dwelling built by your father’s own hand.”

  Dare’s gaze snapped back to her. “Lake Geron.”

&
nbsp; “Yes.”

  “It’s only escaped damage because it’s bedamned hard to get to,” Dax pointed out.

  Shaylah turned on the man who had become as a brother to her. “Are you saying you can’t do it, skypirate?”

  Dare burst out laughing at Dax’s expression. “Oh, you know him too well, my love.”

  “I’m just saying I could do it,” Shaylah retorted, hiding her joy at the rare sound of his laughter.

  “As I well know,” Dare agreed.

  For a moment their eyes locked, memories flowing between them. Their connection grew stronger with every passing year, until now, they barely had to speak if they were alone. They sensed each other’s every mood, and communicated on some level Shaylah had never known. She assumed it was part of bonding, and had been surprised to realize the old Triotian tradition, mocked in the halls of Coalition power, went much deeper than she’d ever realized. It was more than a physical and emotional connection; it was a joining of spirits as much as bodies.

  And now she sensed the full strength of that duty pulling at him.

  “I can’t leave the city,” he said. “If something should happen, if the Coalition returned—”

  “Perhaps,” Califa said, her tone deceptively neutral as she interrupted the king without qualm, another measure of how far they’d come, “it might be a good test run for a certain new ship?”

  Dax’s head snapped around as he focused on his mate. “The Star?”

  Shaylah stifled a laugh; Califa, too, knew her own mate well. Nothing could have brought him more swiftly to their side than the temptation of a run in his new flagship, the latest incarnation of the Evening Star.

  “It is nearly ready, is it not? Surely a small jaunt would be useful, for fine tuning.”

  “Please, both of you,” Shaylah said. “Lay down the crown, and the flashbow, for just this one day. For all of us.”

  “Let’s do it, Dax,” Rina chimed in. “I’ve barely had a chance to be aboard her, I’ve been stuck in Freylan’s classes so long.”

  “And doing wonderfully,” Califa said. The girl had had a lot of catching up to do. Her life with the sector’s most infamous skypirate had been wild and dangerous and no doubt exciting, but it hadn’t run to basic education. Dax had done his best for the situation, making her read what tomes he had available, and had assigned her to a sort of apprenticeship to every crew member to learn their skills, but he was no teacher.

  As much as she complained, Shaylah had a feeling she was soaking it all up eagerly still, years after Dax had brought her home. Freylan had reported her to be a quick, smart learner, although he had protested mightily when, in the middle of her lessons on Triotian history Rina had insisted on accompanying Dax to Arellia when the rebellion had broken out there and Dare had sent the flashbow warrior and his mate to help.

  “The Evening Star is not flying without me,” she’d said flatly. And given she had a unique talent that made her one of the best weapons aboard any ship, she’d won that battle.

  “It would be a good chance to see how she handles,” Dax said now. “And to test out Paraclon’s water landing system.”

  “Well, that ought to drown us all,” Dare said. “You know how his first try at anything never works quite as expected.”

  “But his next try is always amazing. And I’ll let you all off on dry land first,” Dax added generously.

  “Kind of you,” Dare said.

  “Dare, listen,” Dax said. “Heating’s not an issue now, so we can leave the long range sensors working with the shields at half strength, and one cannon at the ready. If we take the Star and something happens, I can get us back here before they’re within firing range.”

  Shaylah felt the moment when the tide shifted. This man was Dare’s most trusted friend—the brother he’d never had—and his voice was the weight needed.

  “All right,” Dare said at last. “If we go now. In the morning.”

  Bless you, Dax Silverbrake.

  “Let’s tell the children,” Califa said.

  “Rina, why don’t you tell them?” Shaylah suggested.

  The girl grinned widely. “My pleasure, your highness.”

  That quickly, she darted out of the room. Califa looked at Shaylah. “Thank you for that.”

  “None needed. It was worth it to see her perk up.”

  “Now let’s go pack.”

  “Pack?” Dax looked puzzled. “We’re only going overnight.”

  “With two children,” Califa pointed out.

  “Four, if you count them,” Shaylah gestured at their mates.

  Dax scowled, but Dare smiled. “Yes, Captain,” he said softly. “You just may have four on your hands. I hope you don’t regret this.”

  * * *

  “DO YOU HAVE to do that all the time?” Shaina complained, scrunching up her face as her mother leaned over and kissed her father as he sat at the controls of the new ship. Shaylah smothered a laugh.

  “Mine are worse,” Lyon said. “You’d think a king and queen would be more ... more ...” He struggled for an appropriate word and apparently couldn’t find one in his young vocabulary.

  “Never.”

  Dare said it to his son, but he was looking at Shaylah. There had been much for the king to do before leaving, and so there had been little time for themselves last night. But he’d promised, in a whispering against her ear before he fell into an exhausted sleep, that there would be hours for them soon. She felt her cheeks color as her body responded to merely the thought. It never faded, this instant, heated need for him.

  “See?” Lyon asked with some indignance. “They’re always like that.”

  “So are mine. Ew.” Shaina’s face scrunched even further.

  “How do you think you both got here, scalawags?” Rina teased.

  Califa turned to look at the children, one arm still draped over her mate’s shoulder.

  “Indeed. And we plan on embarrassing you both until we’re old and wizened.”

  Lyon and Shaina groaned out loud, and Rina laughed. She’d been much cheered since they’d decided to do this, and Shaylah wished she’d thought of it sooner for the girl’s sake as well as Dare’s.

  “Rina? About time to plan our approach through the canyon,” Dax said.

  “I already did,” she said, walking over to the nav station. “I studied the chart last night. Just in case Paraclon’s new projector didn’t work.”

  “Wise,” Dare said, his mouth quirking.

  Shaylah smiled. Rina was the first exact navigator she’d ever met, but she’d heard of them for years. People who could hold charts of entire systems in their minds after a mere moment’s study, and who could translate that into minute adjustments in course and trajectory, setting huge ships down in spaces that seemed far too dangerous, and threading smaller ships through the eye of the needle mentioned in the old Triotian proverbs.

  “Then take her in,” Dax said.

  Rina’s eyes widened. “Me?”

  “You’ve done it on the old ship, you can do it now. She’s quicker, so you’ll have to go a little easier.”

  “But—”

  “The controls at the nav station are the same, just more precise. You do it as you’ve always done, just set the course in your mind and trust your hands to make the adjustments.”

  “But this is your sort of flying.”

  “And I would never risk it without you at nav. So you get the honors this time. You get us there, and I’ll set her down.”

  She still seemed stunned that he was trusting his brand new flagship to her. “You mean it?”

  “She’s all yours. Let’s find out how good she really is.”

  Rina stared at him silently for a moment, but Shaylah had learned to read this child of her heart, and she saw the excitement building in her. And then she realized Dax’s game. Realized he knew perfectly well that this girl he had loved and guarded from the moment he’d found her hiding from the Coalition in a dark, damp cave, was in pain right now. And h
e’d done the perfect thing about it. She wanted to hug him for it.

  “Aye, cap’n,” Rina whispered, and turned to the navigation controls.

  Dax seemed to sense Shaylah’s gaze and looked over at her. She smiled softly, and with full intent, bowed her head to him. From his friend, the smile was thanks. From his queen, the bow was a salute, a sign of utmost respect.

  When she lifted her head again Dax had lowered his gaze, but she saw in his face the acknowledgement of what she had done. A moment later she felt her mate’s arm slip around her shoulders, in his own kind of acknowledgement.