Joined: Book One

by Mara Gan

  I pushed at Perseus impatiently. “For goodness’ sake, Perseus, it’s just Xeke.”

  Perseus didn’t relax his hold. “Xeke.”

  “Let him go, you big oaf,” I admonished anxiously. “You’re hurting him.”

  After another glare, Perseus released the sputtering man. “Who are you and why are you sneaking behind us?”

  Xeke gasped for breath. “I… didn’t mean to sneak,” he wheezed. “I was just….”

  I crossed my arms. “You were following me again, weren’t you, Xeke?”

  Xeke paled slightly and stared at his feet. He nodded.

  Perseus eyed me askance. “Another of your admirers?”

  I bit my lip. “It’s… more complicated than that.” I looked at the ashamed man and softened my tone. “Xeke, why don’t you go back to your shop now? I’m on my way to a meeting. We are a bit late.”

  Xeke looked at me, his eyes full of emotion. “Will you visit me?” he asked, sounding desperate. “Will you come see me soon? You’ve been away so long.”

  “I will come as soon as I can,” I promised gently.

  Xeke smiled suddenly, his whole face lighting with pleasure. He moved to hug me, but Perseus stopped him with one hand. “Keep your distance,” my Protector muttered.

  Xeke swallowed and nodded before backing away. Perseus glared at his retreating form until he was out of sight. “Would you like to explain now, Princess?” he murmured.

  I sighed. “Xeke is… my responsibility,” I said hesitantly. “He is a little different than he used to be.”

  He studied me. “How so?”

  I picked at my dress, nervously smoothing out wrinkles. “Xeke used to be a normal shopkeeper on Galaxia,” I explained. “He’s been a well-respected member of the Esplanade for years. He even played Dískos.”

  Perseus waited, folding his arms.

  I shifted uncomfortably. “Dr. Remy thinks… my pheromones may have had a permanent effect on him.”

  His eyebrows rose. “How’s that?”

  I closed my eyes. “For most species, the pheromone effect seems to wear off after a few days. The people who’ve been around me have felt less… needy… day by day, and after a few days, they just think I’m kind of attractive. But Xeke is Niosian.” I glanced up at him, knowing he would understand.

  Awareness dawned on his face. “They have an exceptional sense of smell.”

  I nodded and sighed. “Xeke was never the same after the day I met him. He’s become a little absentminded, easily distracted. But he’s a lot better than before. He used to be a lot more….”

  “Aggressive?”

  “Proactive.” I frowned. “Kos and Callie sat him down and explained things, but he wouldn’t hear of it. He followed me everywhere, wouldn’t leave me alone.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Has he ever hurt you?”

  I waved my hand. “Goodness, no. Xeke just wants to… be with me is all.”

  I could see him considering that information, could almost touch the thoughts flitting across his face. He was no doubt wondering why he hadn’t been affected, since his sense of smell, as a Mathan, was every bit as strong as that of a Niosian.

  I smiled ruefully. “You’re wondering why Mathans don’t react to me this way.”

  He glanced at me, startled. “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t worry, I can’t read you.” I gestured forward and we resumed our walk toward the meeting hall. “But it’s a natural question. Mathans have been around me in spades and have an exceptional sense of smell too. Remy suspects they are too strong-willed to ever succumb to pheromones, from any species. Not even powerful, endangered pheromones like mine can overcome free will. Not for long, anyway.”

  He was silent. I turned to face him. “So you see, Xeke is my responsibility,” I said softly. “I ruined his mind, his life. Now I have to take care of him.”

  “Meda…,” he began.

  We had arrived at the meeting room, much to my relief. “I wonder what sorts of fabulous things Synie has drawn up in the contract,” I mused, glad to leave Xeke behind.

  Perseus said nothing.

  We entered the room and Perseus helped me to my chair before sitting beside me.

  Synie looked up, her green eyes severe. “We have a problem.”

  “Oh?” I asked mildly, tired from the walk. My ribs ached furiously. “What now?”

  “You were poisoned.”

  My jaw dropped. “What? When?”

  Synie shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said, her eyebrows knitted as she examined the data pad in front of her. “Dr. Remy just sent me the results of your tests. There was a significant amount of a foreign agent in your bloodstream. He was surprised you didn’t notice it.”

  “That’s why I couldn’t sense anything,” I breathed.

  “What?” Kos asked gently, glancing at Synie. “What do you mean?”

  “It was the heat of the game, so I didn’t notice,” I explained quickly. “But right before I got beaned by that giant, I hadn’t been able to sense anything, empathically or telepathically.”

  “How long were you unaware?” Synie asked. “An hour? A few minutes?”

  “A few minutes, I guess,” I said, considering. “That must be why I didn’t notice him coming up behind me.”

  “And is undoubtedly why you were poisoned,” Perseus said thoughtfully, regarding me. “That blow was intended to kill. We’re lucky it didn’t.”

  “But who administered it, and how did he or she do it?” Synie cut in. “Did you eat anything? Were you drinking water on the field?”

  “No,” I said, looking confused. “I don’t understand—”

  “I do,” Perseus said grimly. “Remember when that player helped you up after you scored the point, just a few minutes before you got hit?”

  “Yes,” I said slowly, “but—”

  “It absorbed through your skin,” he said. “Which means I also know what kind of poison it was.”

  Synie let out an uncharacteristic curse and glanced at Perseus. “This looks bad for you.”

  “What?” I asked, sitting up straight. “What’s going on?”

  “The only known poison potent enough to absorb through the skin, Princess,” Perseus said, turning to look at me, “is made from a poppy that grows on Mathos.”

  I paled. “But-but you didn’t do this.”

  “I know that,” he answered with a dour smile, “but when the Pragma finds out, it certainly won’t do much to improve my image around here, will it?”

  “There are already some who think choosing Perseus was a mistake, Princess,” Kos said gently.

  “But the Oracle chose him,” I argued. “The Oracle has never been wrong.”

  “Public fear is rarely rational,” Synie said dryly. “Mob mentality and all that. Regardless, we can delay telling the Council for as long as possible. The last thing we need is something impeding our investigation.”

  I exhaled in relief, surprised at how distraught I was. The idea of Perseus being out to get me… it was ludicrous.

  I turned to look at him and found him watching me. His black eyes were impassive and impenetrable, as always, but just now they were curious, and just a little… touched?

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I tripped slightly as my foot caught on a rock. Looking up from my reading pad, momentarily annoyed, I checked my surroundings and kept walking with my nose in the book. I had healed enough that I was walking without a cane, but I was still a bit uneven.

  I was reading an adventure story. The one thing that truly appealed to me about Perseus’s other life was the idea of hunting for treasures. Not that he ever told me any of these stories in detail, but I imagined he had done his share of seeking out jewels or ancient artifacts. I often wondered what that must be like.

  I would never get to have adventures like that, I thought as I looked up into the dense foliage of the Hypethral. Not as long as I was Heir to Galaxia, anyway.

  Which, of course, was a permanent
position, one that came with a rather confusing—and prophesied—ending.

  I hadn’t had time to read any adventure fiction lately, unfortunately, but researching the Yurilian trade dispute, the other impending task I was dealing with, was fascinating to me too. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it was a problem, and I loved researching solutions to problems. It gave me a sense of control in a chaotic universe.

  I heard a low snarl and jumped a foot in the air, the pad clattering out of my hands as I turned to see the ever-furious face of my Protector.

  Great. He was in one of his non-fun moods. I usually had about a 5 percent chance of getting him in one of his pleasant moods, but it looked like luck was not with me tonight.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he fumed, his black eyes blazing.

  I braced myself against a tree, one hand on my chest, trying to steady my heartbeat. “Good grief, Perseus, must you do that?” I panted, leaning down to pick up my book.

  “Do what? Seek out errant princesses? Yes. Comes with the job description.”

  I scowled. “No, sneak up on me like that.”

  “If you would only stop sneaking away from your guards, I wouldn’t have to.” He moved forward and grabbed my elbow roughly. “Come on.”

  I stumbled again as he dragged me along. “Where are we going?”

  “Back to your quarters.”

  “But—” My shoulders slumped a little. “Can’t I stay here? You could stay with me, if you’re so worried—”

  “Unfortunately, Princess,” he said brusquely, “Synie and I were doing some rather productive research when I had to break it off to come find you.”

  “Why?”

  He glared. “Why, what?”

  “Why did you have to break off your research to come find me?”

  “Egil was worried.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he was supposed to be watching you,” he bit out. “But when he showed up at your office to escort you back to your quarters, you weren’t there. He looked for you, but then panicked and called me.”

  I grimaced. I felt a little bad for deceiving Egil and getting him in trouble with Perseus, but I was still going to gain my freedom whenever I could. Few knew about the secret passageways in the city but me, and I liked it that way.

  I looked down, focusing on not tripping. “Couldn’t you have just left me here?”

  “No.”

  “But you didn’t feel any fear from me,” I pointed out. “So why couldn’t you just leave me?”

  “Because,” he said, pulling me through the glass doors out of the Hypethral, “not only is it easy for anyone to sneak up on you, but feeling fear from you is kind of a worthless power.”

  I frowned, trying to discern some insult in that. “I don’t understand,” I said finally, giving up. “Why?”

  “When was the last time you felt afraid, little girl?” he countered, heading for the lifts as he scanned the access strip. “Aside from the night with Durga a few weeks ago.”

  I considered. “I… I don’t know,” I said, confused. “Why?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Huh?”

  “In the months I’ve known you, you’ve felt fear—what, once? You’re brave, little girl,” he said, punching in the buttons on the lift for my level. “Or oblivious. Or stupid. Either way, you don’t feel fear often. So me being able to sense it is kind of worthless.”

  “Perseus,” I breathed, feeling mischievous, “did you just pay me a compliment?”

  “You can take that however you like,” he replied curtly. “I only made a statement. Frankly, I would rather you were a spineless, sputtering coward. It would make my job easier.”

  I laughed. “I’ll try harder.”

  “Ahh, imagine,” he said, shuffling me into the lift. “A princess who obeyed orders. A princess who was actually afraid of dying. A princess who understood the implications of someone trying to kill her.”

  “I’m afraid of dying,” I protested.

  “Are you?” His deep black eyes probed mine.

  “Yes,” I said defiantly. “I’m not suicidal.”

  “Then why don’t you listen to me?”

  “Because I don’t believe in protecting my life at the expense of my freedom,” I said, chin up. “That’s no life at all.”

  He snorted. “You’re a princess,” he answered. “The Heir to Galaxia. Seems to me there’s already no freedom left for you, no matter how mulish you are.”

  I shrugged. “All the more reason to hold on to what freedoms I can.”

  “You’re only stuck with a few more months of me, Princess,” he said testily. “Then I’ll be out of your hair for good. But for gods’ sake try not to make it more difficult than it has to be.”

  I fell silent, feeling strangely desolate at the thought.

  The lift stopped at my level and we stepped out into the hallway. Perseus turned left down the central access corridor, avoiding the larger hallway by the Cube’s hypethral.

  I blew air through my lips in disappointment, watching the beautiful trees of the Habitat Cube’s small forest disappear behind a wall.

  He looked down at me. “Something wrong, Princess?”

  I sighed. “I’m… alone a lot,” I admitted. “I don’t mind it so much, but… the time does not always pass quickly. It’s easier when I can be in the forest.” I bit my lip. “You don’t like plants much, I suppose.”

  He was silent a few moments. “On Mathos,” he said, somewhat hesitantly, “there was a flowering vine. We called it chevrefoil. It could only survive when it grew around a specific type of nut tree.”

  “Is that those nuts you eat?”

  He nodded. “The nut tree, similarly, never produced nuts unless the vine was present. The two were symbiotic.” He softened a fraction. “That was always fascinating to me. How they could never flower or fruit without each other, even though they were two completely separate organisms.”

  I smiled. “A beautifully scientific view of a poetic existence.”

  He shrugged a little. “To me, science is poetic—”

  He stopped and yanked me behind him so abruptly that I would have fallen if he hadn’t been keeping such a firm grip on me.

  At the end of the corridor, standing just outside my apartments, was a figure I had never seen before.

  As I peeked around Perseus, though, I decided I was grateful for that; whoever he was, he did not look friendly.

  He was decked out in black, his coat reaching almost to his ankles, and he was huge. His long yellow hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he held a falx. His expression was terrifying; nonchalant and focused, humorous and malevolent, it was such a mass of distorted satisfaction that I shivered. I could feel nothing from him except pleasure, but pleasure gained from causing destruction and violence. Not the kind of emotion I enjoyed.

  “Stay behind me,” Perseus ordered, his whole body tense.

  For once, I didn’t argue.

  The man at the end of the corridor snorted, examining his nails. “You needn’t worry about your sweet little princess, Perseus,” he said, coming toward us. “I’m not here for her.”

  “Then what are you here for?”

  “You, of course.”

  I felt Perseus relax. “You’re a bounty hunter.”

  The man gave a single nod, raising one brow. “Indeed.”

  Perseus leaned down to my ear. “Get behind that wall column,” he murmured, his breath tickling my hair. “And stay there.”

  I nodded, eyes wide, and slowly backed away.

  “What’s the bounty?” Perseus said to the bounty hunter, moving almost imperceptibly toward him. “Perhaps I can top it.”

  The blond laughed. “I doubt it. The bounty I’ll get from delivering you would feed a planet for a year.”

  “That’s all?” Perseus asked. “I’m insulted.”

  “You shouldn’t be,” he replied, scowling. “That’s the highest contract I’ve ever taken.”


  “I’m sorry to hear you’ve been struggling for work,” Perseus said amicably. “But you should shop around more. I’ve encountered bounty hunters who have been offered enough for entire systems.”

  I wanted to step in and say Galaxia would pay this man whatever he needed, but my mouth was dry with shock and fascination. And something told me to just be quiet and let Perseus handle this.

  “You’re hardly worth all that,” the man scoffed. “You may be the greatest mercenary in the galaxy, but no one hates you that much.”

  “You’d be surprised.”

  The man sniffed. “At least, you were the greatest mercenary in the galaxy. Until you decided to be a bodyguard for this-this… princess.”

  I opened my mouth to retort but stopped when Perseus put his hand up, motioning me to silence without even looking.

  I snapped my mouth shut, surprised and kind of irritated that he knew me so well.

  Perseus folded his arms, still facing the man. “Let me guess. You’re Lovec, aren’t you?”

  Lovec smiled, a slow, sickening movement that didn’t convey the kind of thing a smile normally should. “I see my reputation precedes me.”

  “Meh. I heard you were still sitting at the kiddies’ table, collecting minor bounties here and there.” Lovec looked like he was about the snap a retort but Perseus cut him off, saying, “Well? Do you have the courage to fight me or not?”

  Without much warning, Lovec launched himself at Perseus, who quickly deflected the attack with his falx. My jaw dropped. I hadn’t even seen him draw it. Lovec thrust his sword again, and again Perseus parried. Lovec swung at Perseus’s feet and Perseus jumped, twisting out of the way of the next side blow. Perseus evaded each attack with ease, looking focused but mildly amused.

  Lovec looked frustrated, swinging a heavy blow directly for Perseus’s head. “Attack me, damn you! I’d much rather take you alive.”

  I choked back a scream as the next blow narrowly missed Perseus’s head. He ducked at the last minute and used Lovec’s momentary lack of balance to knock his weapon out of his hand.

  “Let’s try this the old-fashioned way now, yes?” Perseus asked, tossing his own weapon aside.

  Lovec glowered. “If you insist.”