“I am past ready to forget,” Jonathan replied. “The memories that have consumed me these past two years are now gone as though they’d never existed. Faith has cleared my mind, showing me what really matters.”
“And what is that?” Gray asked. “What is it that really matters?”
“Faith,” Jonathan said simply. “If you do not wish to claim her, then so be it. I will not let her go so easily.”
“You would attempt to claim a woman on your own?” Tristan asked.
“We both know such a thing is impossible,” Jonathan replied. “But I will not turn my back on her. If she will allow it, I will remain at her side no matter what rules, laws, or customs I have to break.”
Without thinking, Tristan reached out with his senses for Faith, checking to be sure she was still free of nightmares. He remembered the feel of her in his arms, the fear that had consumed him when he’d heard her screams. And conceded that his brother was right. It was past time to let go. “I suppose we should begin again. I am willing to try to become friends with her. Do you have any suggestions?”
“We must repair the damage we have already caused to her opinion of us,” Jon said, hiding both his shock, and the sudden hope that rose in him at Tristan’s unexpected change of heart. “And, we must offer trust before we can receive it.”
“If that doesn’t work?” Tristan asked. “What then?”
“Then we will keep trying,” Jon said. “She is the woman meant for us, and I will never give up on her.”
Chapter Seven
Darck Winicke slid out of bed, careful not to awaken Thelba. He stood for a moment, watching her sleep, nearly overcome by the upwelling of emotion he felt. Never in his life had he expected to be so happy, so fulfilled. A woman to love who loved him in return, and a family of his own. He reached down to tug the blanket up over Thelba’s shoulder, then turned and left the bedroom.
Their hut within the village was small, as all of them were. The cave that hid the village was enormous, but space was not limitless. He pulled the curtain that served as a door across the opening, then lit a small oil lamp. Holding the lamp with one hand, he reached up to a high shelf and retrieved the pack of relics from where he’d put it the day his father had given it to him.
He sat down and placed the bag on the floor next to his feet and the lamp on a low table, smiling slightly as he thought of his father. The past few months had, miraculously, healed years of tension between father and son. He would be forever grateful that, before his father’s death, they had at long last been in harmony with each other.
He had not opened the pack after his father had given it to him. He had no desire to step back in time, to remember the Brethren and their goals under Stalnek, or the man he’d been before the miracle of Thelba. But yesterday Marqex had told him that Magoa had received a message from Stalnek. A real one this time.
Magoa had told the Brethren several times that Stalnek was close to arriving, raising their hopes again and again. Marqex knew from her contacts within Magoa’s town that no message had ever been received by Stalnek. It had only been a ploy to keep the Brethren calm and hopeful even as they died off one by one. Until yesterday.
In one week, nearly a full year from the day that the Brethren had fled Earth, Stalnek’s yacht would finally reach Onddo. Darck wondered what his uncle’s reaction had been, or would be, to the news that there were no Brethren left, that they’d all died of some mysterious illness over the months that they’d waited for him to arrive. Stalnek would be in a towering rage when he discovered that he was a leader to no people.
He untied the knot holding the pack closed, and reached inside. He found the three most important relics, according to Stalnek and his father, at the top of the pack. The Book of Knowledge, a ruby cup with words carved into it in a language he did not know, and the Erekorra, a crystalline ball about eight inches in diameter. He placed those three on the table beside the lamp and left the rest.
Hi picked up the Erekorra, an egg shaped crystal filled with a myriad of colors that constantly shifted and swirled within it. He turned it over in his hands, wondering, as generations of Brethren before him had wondered, if it was simply a pretty bauble, or if there was some real meaning locked inside of it.
“Darck?” Thelba said from behind him. He looked up and smiled at her. “What is that?”
“I don’t really know what it is,” he replied. “Stalnek called it the Erekorra, but as far as I know, nobody ever knew its real purpose.”
“The record?” Thelba asked as she sat down next to him and reached out with one finger to touch the object.
“Is that what Erekorra means?” Darck asked.
Thelba nodded. “What is it a record of?”
“I don’t have any idea,” Darck said. “There was a large number of relics, mysterious items passed down from generation to generation within the Brethren. Legend said that they belonged to the Narrasti who arrived on Earth after the destruction of their home world by the Ugaztun, now called the Jasani. The use of the objects, and their meaning, has been forgotten. These three items were considered the most important.”
“I think you should show this to Marqex,” Thelba said. “If anyone can understand it, she can.”
“Yes, I agree,” Darck said. He picked up the ruby cup. “I wonder why this is important,” he said as he turned the object around in his hands.
“That is a cup of peace,” Thelba said.
“How do you know that?” Darck asked.
“That is what the words carved into it on one side say,” Thelba replied. “I can’t read the words on the other side though. Something about it tickles my genetic memories. One moment.”
Darck watched as Thelba closed her eyes and went still. He’d seen her do this before, and it always fascinated him. He’d never heard of genetic memories until meeting Thelba, and had a difficult time understanding them. The ability to remember things that happened long before you were born defied logic.
After a few moments Thelba opened her eyes. “This cup was given to the Narrasti by the Ugaztun in a peace ceremony. The Ugaztun received one much like it from the Narrasti in return.”
Darck frowned. “I thought that the Narrasti and the Jasani were eternal enemies.”
“Yes, that is what most believe,” Thelba replied. “That is what Magoa tells everyone. But it is not true. The ceremony I remember took place thousands of years ago. In that time, the Narrasti and the Ugaztun were at peace with one another.”
“This, too, must be shown to Marqex,” Darck decided. He looked at the large book, ran one finger over the heavy leather cover. “I will share all of these items with her.” He returned the relics to the pack and retied it. “Thelba, I know that you will not like this, but in a few days I will begin traveling to the old encampment to keep watch.”
“Why?” Thelba asked. “There is no one left there.”
“Yes, I know,” Darck agreed. “But when Stalnek arrives he will send some of his men to go through the encampment to search for messages, signs of what happened, and most of all, the relics. I must watch to be certain they do not become suspicious and decide to search for us.”
“What could possibly make them suspicious?” Thelba asked.
“I don’t know,” Darck said. “I’m just worried about it. It’s what woke me up, this strong, nagging feeling that I had to go there and watch.”
“Then you must follow your feelings in this,” Thelba said reluctantly. “Promise me that you will be careful.”
“Of course, my love,” Darck said. “Now, tell me, why are you awake?”
“Because you were no longer by my side,” Thelba replied.
“Then let us go back to bed, and I will remain at your side that you can sleep,” Darck said, standing up and holding out one hand to her. “The little ones will be awake in a few hours, and we both need our rest.”
Thelba took Darck’s hand and rose to her feet, smiling at the thought of their children. Two boys and one
girl, hatched just a few days earlier. They were certainly a handful, but she loved every moment of motherhood, no matter how tired she was. If anything happened to Darck, she would endure for the sake of their children. But the light of happiness would be gone from her life, and in the way of her people, she knew that it would never shine again.
Chapter Eight
Faith awoke the next morning feeling more rested than she had in a long time, which seemed strange. She vaguely remembered having one of her nightmares, but for some reason it hadn’t woken her up as they usually did. After a moment she shrugged and climbed out of bed, making it up quickly before going into the bathroom and starting the shower.
Twenty minutes later, her hair mostly dry in deference to Tristan’s apparent aversion to wet hair, she was ready to go find breakfast. As soon as she turned the door knob on the cabin door she knew something was wrong. She frowned, then worked the lock button which spun freely. It was obviously broken, but she knew for certain that she’d locked it before going to bed the night before.
The rush of adrenaline that suddenly flooded her body made her dizzy. She bent over, arms wrapped tightly around herself, eyes closed as she fought back against the impending panic. A wave of calm washed through her body, startling her. She had no idea where it was coming from, but she grabbed onto it desperately. Within a few moments the dizziness passed and her heart rate slowed, surprising her further. It generally took far longer for her to battle back a panic attack. Maybe she was just getting better at it. She took several long, deep breaths, then stood up straight and opened her eyes.
She felt perfectly normal now. No panic, no racing heart, no dizziness, no trembling hands. Nothing. She didn’t understand it, but she liked it. She opened the door and stilled at the sight of the three Falcorans standing in the hall, facing her.
“Please, do not be afraid,” Gray said quickly. “We are no threat to you. Reach for our emotions, and you will know it’s true.”
Faith did as he asked, puzzled to discover that she not only didn’t feel threatened by them, she felt an overwhelming sense of safety and security coming from them. Weird.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” she asked. They all looked at her in confusion. “You three did something to stop the...the way I felt a few moments ago.”
“Yes,” Jonathan said. The nervousness in his voice made her curious. It was the first time she’d ever heard any emotion in his voice. “Please do not be angry with us. We felt your discomfort and could not help trying to alleviate it.”
Faith was suddenly very glad that she’d spent enough time with the Bearens and the Dracons to get past her initial shock over their magical abilities.
“How?” she asked curiously.
“We have some skill in Water magic,” Tristan said. “Healing magic.”
“Thank you,” Faith said after a moment, unable to think of any other response that wouldn’t raise questions she had no intention of answering.
“You must be hungry,” Gray said. She nodded. “Come, we will eat together.”
Faith hesitated, but couldn’t think of a polite reason to refuse. She pulled her door shut behind her and followed them down the corridor and up to the next deck. They entered a dining area that held several tables with chairs set around them. Along one side of the room was a buffet table loaded with food. The aroma made her stomach growl, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since breakfast with Hope’s family the previous morning. She felt her face heat as Tristan, Gray and Jon all turned to look at her.
“Sorry,” she said.
“There is no need for apologies,” Tristan said, his voice suspiciously gentle. “It is we who should apologize to you for not feeding you yesterday. It was thoughtless and careless of us.”
Faith shrugged uncomfortably, wondering why Tristan’s attitude had changed so dramatically. “I’m a big girl,” she said. “I know how to ask for something if I need it. I didn’t have much of an appetite yesterday.”
Tristan reached for a plate from the stack on the counter and handed it to her. “Thanks,” she said, then turned toward the food, glad to have something to focus on besides the three men who surrounded her with a totally unfamiliar air of protectiveness.
She put some scrambled eggs on her plate and looked longingly at the bacon, sausage, and ham before passing them by. That was about it for protein that she could safely eat, so she chose mixed fruit, some of it familiar from her stay with the Bearens, some not. She added one slice of toast, though she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to eat it. She passed by the sweet rolls and the waffles without a glance, knowing they were her greatest weakness. She scanned the other offerings once more, but the bacon and sausage were definitely not going to work, and she seriously doubted that the ham would stay down either.
“That’s all you’re going to eat?” Jonathan asked worriedly when she stopped to fill a glass with milk from an iced pitcher.
Faith looked down at her plate, then at the food on the buffet line with a regretful sigh. She would have loved to pile more food on her plate. But it would only be wasted.
“I’ll start with this,” she said, hoping he would let it go at that.
“Go ahead and choose a table,” he said. “We’ll join you in a moment. Would you like coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please,” she said, knowing she shouldn’t, but unable to resist. Jon nodded and she looked around the room for a table. As much as she would have preferred to sit alone, she knew that would be rude. She chose a square table near the center of the room that had only one chair on each side, and sat down. She wanted to be able to see all of their faces when she asked them to explain the one thing that was bothering her the most.
She waited until they were all seated and had eaten in silence for several minutes before asking her question. “Why is the lock on my cabin door broken?”
Though none of them showed that they were startled by the question, she could feel their emotions a little too clearly. After an initial burst of surprise, they all became nervous. They looked at her, then Gray and Jon turned their eyes to Tristan, who set his coffee cup down with a nod, accepting the responsibility that fell to him as eldest brother.
“Last night, shortly after you retired, you began to scream,” he said in a calm, matter of fact voice, as though talking about the weather, or the flavor of the coffee. But Faith wasn’t fooled. She felt their combined tension at the memory conjured up by Tristan’s words, and her hand tightened on her fork.
“We didn’t know if you’d been injured, or if you were being attacked. When we reached your cabin the door was locked, so I broke it in order to get inside.”
“And what did you find when you entered?”
“We found you in the closet, asleep, screaming in the throes of a nightmare,” Tristan said. “We used Water magic to send you into a deeper sleep where the nightmare could not reach you, and put you back into bed.”
Faith struggled to hide how horrified she was by the image Tristan had conjured up. That they’d seen her in such a vulnerable position, had not only touched her, but carried her, and sent her into a sleep so deep she remembered nothing of it, was terrifying. She kept telling herself over and over that she was fine, they hadn’t harmed her or...done anything to her.
“I’m sorry,” she said evenly, though her heart was racing so fast that she had to fight to control her breathing. “I thought the nightmares were under control. I suppose that the stress of yesterday brought them back.”
“There is no need to apologize for having nightmares,” Gray said. “Our only concern was that you’d be angry with us for entering your room.”
“No, I’m not angry,” Faith said. She would have preferred anger over the combined terror and embarrassment she felt. “Thank you for helping me.” She picked up her coffee, relieved that her hands were only trembling a little, and took a sip. “Is that why you’re being nice to me this morning? You feel sorry for me?”
“I wouldn’t put it quite that way,”
Tristan said.
“How would you put it then?” Faith asked with an edge in her voice that she didn’t bother trying to hide.
Tristan smiled, disarming her completely. “Let’s just say that we have our own unhappy story. I suppose it makes us feel as though we can understand each other better.”
Faith got that. Sort of. She just hoped they didn’t expect her to start sharing stories because she was not going there.
“How long have you been able to see meta-space?” Gray asked, changing the subject.
“No idea,” she replied. “The first time I ever left Earth was about two years ago, when I came to Jasan.”
“You’ve been to Jasan before?” Tristan asked, his stomach tightening. Had she been contracted to another male-set? he wondered. Was she one of those women who ran screaming for the nearest transport once she learned a few truths about the Jasani?
“Yes,” she said. “I spent some time in the women’s sanctuary.”
Tristan’s thoughts, and escalating temper, screeched to a halt. More than anything he wanted to ask her why, but that was strictly forbidden. No Jasani male could ask any female such a question and retain his honor.
Faith frowned, confused by the abrupt change of emotions coming from Tristan.
“That was the first time you saw one?” Gray asked, gently prodding her to continue her story. Faith nodded.
“Yes, it was,” she said. “I was on a passenger liner, looking out the window and saw this...hole. I nudged the woman beside me and asked her what it was, but she had no idea what I was talking about. Eventually I realized that she didn’t see it. So I asked a few other people, casual like, whenever the liner queued up for a jump point. Nobody else ever saw what I saw. It was easy enough to figure out that what I was seeing were jump points.”
“And you never told anyone?” Tristan asked.
“Who was I going to tell that would either care, believe me, or know what I was talking about? I had a hard enough time trying to convince people I was old enough to be in college. Not to mention the fact that I was a art history major with zero knowledge of space. No, it was far better to keep it to myself. I had no idea it would ever be important to anyone.” She took a bite of toast and washed it down with the last of her coffee. Then she picked up her fork and toyed with the fruit for a moment, trying to convince herself to eat some of it.
The Falcoran’s Faith Page 7
