This thing will kill me, she realized with dull certainty. It will eat my flesh, my soul, the essence that made me who and what I am. And it—he—will laugh as he does so.
She thought of fleeing—but how? And to where?
He flowed forward like an unstoppable tide, and Krysta realized that everything behind him was gone. No sand, no water, no rocks, no sky. He had consumed everything he passed.
And now he was losing his human shape, pulsing and throbbing, opening a maw filled with dead stars and devastated planets. Screams swirled through the holes where his eyes and nose should have been. So loud. So many!
Krysta trembled against the power surging around her, but she could do nothing. Pain unlike any she had known gripped her at the head and joints. Piercing, tearing like the teeth of a prehistoric beast.
He is…eating me…
Her desperate gaze caught a glimmer to her left. Another shape, fast approaching from an unknown vector. This shape drew the glow to it like a great magnet, swirling through the light like some old Earth charger bearing his knight into battle.
Krysta felt rather than saw the shadowed man hesitate, and she also felt his distinct sense of surprise. Perhaps a bit of incredulous fear.
“How can this be?” he whispered, low and harsh, a death-rattle. “Who are you? Show yourself!”
In that instant, Krysta managed to glare full into the light—and saw an image of her sister-in-law Elise riding a golden Chimera stallion, with a falcon pumping wings above her and Ki’s diamond sword drawn and pulled back as if to slice the head right off the shadow-man’s formless shoulders. Her pa shone like suns and stars as she screamed like a primitive, calling up images of centuries upon centuries of battle.
Another Chimera appeared, this one red and bearing Georgia and her ruby swords. Like flames rolling down a dry mountain break, she came, hissing and shouting.
Another golden Chimera, and another. Two men. Akad with his silvery blade drawn. The lion-eyed champion, bellowing his own war-cry and wielding a two-headed golden axe.
The present settled back on Krysta with the force of a storm surge. She staggered. “Sha! Darkyn!”
And they were on her, hands lifting her, weapons swinging forward, striking at the shadow-beast, holding her as they thundered across the sand and into the cool, gray-blue ocean waters beyond. She felt her mind link with theirs, felt the welcome heat of their presence and the complete tingling-singing response of her body.
Home came the single thought between them, and Krysta gave her assent, momentarily seeing the halls of Camford—and her brothers.
All motion stopped, though Krysta still felt the four pairs of hands holding her, caressing her, still sensed the Chimera bearing them and the black falcon in the air above her. They had gone to Camford, but not completely. Like spirits, they hovered just off the ground, watching Fari read a note aloud to Ki, who was scowling despite holding Katryn Ilya to his chest.
”’Do not be male idiots and insist on following us. This is women’s business’” Fari lifted his head to gaze at Ki and the crying babe. “What do they mean, Brother? Where have they gone? I have ill-feelings. Something is wrong. My shanna faces some great danger.”
”Yes. Elise as well.” Ki turned then, directly toward Krysta, Elise, Georgia, Akad, and Darkyn. As he pressed his lips to his daughter’s head, he stiffened. Narrowed his eyes.
Krysta felt herself stiffen in response.
Katryn Ilya pointed to the spot where Krysta knew their phantom images hovered.
”Yi,” said the baby, already precocious in her babbling sounds like most Ardani infants. “Uhr. Mommie. Uhr. Yi.”
Oh, gods. Krysta ground her teeth—and that fast, she was gone from Camford, and waking to the feel of a pallet beneath her, tight muscles, a pounding headache—and four pairs of hands resting on her—shoulders, belly, and legs.
They were in complete rapport, a state of total understanding. Emotional and sexual feelings rushed back and forth too quickly to name or understand, or even manage. Krysta sensed the continued presence of Ki and Fari as well, though they were not present. Their awareness had followed their shannas without fail, and the energy of the circle could not be denied.
Lips brushed Krysta’s, and she looked up to see Georgia, tears shining on her freckled and pa-flecked cheeks.
“Sister,” Georgia whispered.
More lips brushed Krysta’s forehead, and she saw Elise, who was also crying. Akad stirred beside her, caressing her stomach tenderly. “Welcome back.”
Time still seemed to skip and jump, because in seconds, the three of them were gone and the force at her feet had moved upward, over her, and then down beside her to cradle her tightly.
She took a deep, drinking smell of Darkyn at his most elemental, heard the rumble of his voice as his whispered his love and rocked her safely in his muscled arms.
Krysta wanted to lose herself in his caress, in his kiss. She wanted to spread her legs and arms and welcome Akad and Elise and Georgia to their lovemaking and know the joy of connecting at such profound levels.
The psi-presence of Ki and Fari broke off abruptly, and Guardian, who had reclaimed her perch on the windowsill, gave a call of distress.
“We have trouble,” Krysta whispered, pushing back from Darkyn. “My brothers are furious, and they’re coming. Now. With the Guard, the Fleet, and anyone who will answer their call.”
It was Elise who summed the feelings of the group with a single, emphatic, “Damn!”
Chapter 12
It took some time to talk the Tul’Mar women out of their blades, but at last they understood the conventions of pao. Akad stored their weapons with Darkyn’s formidable double-axe, showing them where the weapons would be after the pao disbanded.
“Weapons of the hand will do us no good henceforth,” Akad said as Darkyn gazed at his axe.
Darkyn hated being without the familiar weight about his waist. He felt more than disarmed. More than naked.
Incomplete.
Who am I, if not a warrior?
His deepening relationship with Krysta, the pao, the uselessness of all his battle training against an ancient, virtually formless evil—these things gave him doubt. He understood the struggles of his hallas in finding her new roles, her new paths in the face of love-wrought changes and new types of menace.
Darkyn led Akad to the door of his cabin, leaving the thank-the-gods swordless Elise and Georgia to help Krysta dress. He felt clear-minded for the first time in weeks. The mating fervor had, at last, eased to a bearable level, and not a moment too soon. The gathering-space outside had begun to fill with The People, from vinemasters to sandscratchers. They stood in their robes, also seeming partially naked without their blades and clawhoes. In the outer reaches, weaving through the trees, Chimeras grazed and drifted and watched, occasionally humming. Many were golden Uhr natives, while others were multi-colored rescues from Arda.
Shuttle engines and ship thrusters roared in the distance, from the edge of the orchards, as the pao participants landed in rapid succession. Bands of different races and species marched down the path toward the fields where Ta’Tonna Kon’pa had decreed they would meet. Darkyn could make out the tall, swaying purple forms of the fierce women of Bandu, followed by the tiny Nostans who ever-persisted in their foolish attempts to court the wild female warriors. Behind them came the unarmed but heavily armored OrTan delegation.
“The slavers have arrived,” Akad said in low, disgusted tones. He stood on Darkyn’s right side in the cabin’s doorway, glowering down the path.
A wide circle of distance had opened around the reviled lizards of OrTa, the galaxy’s infamous sex-slavers. Obviously, no one wanted to be too near them. In other circumstances, most of the participants would have attacked the OrTans on sight. But this was a pao, a meeting of native peoples under the sacred peace of all gods and goddesses. Should any participant commit violence during a pao, all attendees would be bound to avenge it.
Darkyn
believed serious violence unlikely, as most of the species present could sense or see the Barung, and had an interest in stopping it. The OrTans, however despicable, had excellent technology despite recent war losses, and a healthy interest in saving their own skins. That combination made them formidable allies, though Darkyn doubted that even he could bring himself to shake their slimy scaled paws.
Excuse me, Ta. The psi-communication tapped through Darkyn’s low-level mind-shielding, temporarily pushing aside his awareness of his nearby shanna and her family. The voice belonged to a technician, one who worked the landing strip. There is great activity on Arda. The Fleet appears to be taking off, as well as the Home Guard. I do not much like their direction, as it seems to be the heart of Uhr. Our shielding will hide the pao ships, but…
Akad tensed beside him, obviously picking up bits of the communication. Guardian, who had been in one of the cabin’s windowsills, took off in a rush of feathers and screeching.
Darkyn sighed. Do not allow the Fleet to land a ship. Block human transport for all but the Sailmaster and the Sailkeeper, and warriors from the Home Guard to serve as their entourage. Make certain to transport no weapons. Use as many psi-technicians as necessary to block any action by the remaining vessels.
There was a hesitant pause. Clearly, the technician would have preferred remaining invisible to Arda’s otherwise all-seeing eyes. Further, he would have preferred the Tul’Mars to stay clear of Uhr’s surface. Once The People’s haven was revealed, it could never be fully reclaimed, only defended.
If they survived long enough to make defense necessary.
Understood, the technician replied, and despite his reticence, Darkyn knew the man would obey. Darkyn’s consciousness detected his call for psi reinforcements to head for the landing strip. Almost immediately afterward came a question from his cousin Brand, who remained confined to his cabin by order of the Ta. There had been no time to pass judgment on Brand’s fate for killing Kolot on Arda when the opposing soldier had his hands raised for no-combat.
Darkyn sighed again. You may go to the landing strip, Brand. When your duties are finished, return to your cabin.
Yes, Ta. The answer held no rancor, nor hint of deception. Brand simply wanted to contribute in whatever limited fashion he might.
There would be time enough to decide his punishment later.
“What will you do with the Tul’Mar men when they arrive?” Akad asked quietly.
Darkyn shrugged. “What can I do, Brother? Treat them as any other pao participant and give them voice when it’s their turn to speak. Mayhap this gathering will convince them of what my communications, documents, and finally my raids could not.”
Akad gave a rumble of unease. “Those two will not willingly or lightly accept your authority.”
“Their psi isn’t strong enough to override the wishes of The People. I think it’s time they understood that.” Darkyn glanced at his brother. “Besides, their women may help persuade them to the truth.”
“I will not be used to coerce or humiliate my husband,” came the icy retort of the Sailkeeper’s bride behind him.
At this, Darkyn’s temper flared. He turned to face Georgia. “You will be used to save his life, and yours, and your family’s. If that isn’t acceptable, then I have greatly underestimated you.”
Feeling the burn in his gut, not wishing to alienate his mate’s kin, Darkyn turned back to the crowd and stalked down the path to greet more arriving delegates. From behind him, he heard Elise Tul’Mar say, “Well. I guess we know where he stands.”
Just as he reached the middle of the outdoor greeting area, the OrTans filed into place amongst the delegates. Simultaneously, Krysta, Elise, and Georgia left the cabin to stand by Akad at the head of the path.
Three female gasps rose over the murmur of the crowd, followed by lizard growling and leg-slapping as the OrTans grabbed for weapons they had surrendered upon landing.
“She-witches,” bellowed Lord Gith, the leader of the OrTan delegation just before the sounds of melee ensued.
Darkyn didn’t want to look, but he knew he had to. The rigid posture of the Bandu, the worried expressions of the Nostans, and nearby members of his tribe…his temper roiled even as his spirits sank.
Please, goddess, let Akad have blocked the path back to those women’s weapons…
Slowly, he made himself turn back toward the cabin.
Akad and Krysta had Georgia forcibly pinned inside the cabin door. A group of The People had sealed off the OrTan delegation. Standing dead center were Lord Gith and Elise Tul’Mar, virtually nose to nose.
“My property,” Gith hissed. “How convenient to have you return yourself to me.”
“If you touch me, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.” The woman’s voice was level and confident, and Darkyn had the passing thought that Elise could back up her threat.
No wonder the Sailmaster accepted her as mate. Grace and strength, and strength of will. A good match for a Ta, just like my Krysta.
Darkyn shook himself from his distraction and strode over to stand before them. “This is a pao,” he said coldly. “If you cannot put aside your differences for the good of your respective peoples, you will be detained until the pao is finished, then dismissed from Uhr without further welcome.”
For a moment, neither potential combatant looked away from their battle-stare. Darkyn felt a stab of fear from his shanna at the thought of one of her family being forever banished from her new home, but it could not be helped. He could not lose control of this situation, no matter the grievances between these two combatants.
“Choose,” he demanded.
And to the well-broadcast surprise of Elise Tul’Mar and Georgia as well, Lord Gith responded to Darkyn’s demand as if the OrTan emperor had issued a command backed by a dozen swordsmen with poison-tipped blades. The lizard leader yielded two steps, offered a small bow to Darkyn, and said, “Your pardon. This dispute can wait.”
To Elise, Lord Gith said, “I nor any of my people will offer you further affront while you enjoy the protection of Uhr.”
Elise seemed baffled about what to say in response. Finally she gave a small shrug. “Okay. Whatever. Georgia and I won’t hurt you either—for now. You should know my husband and his brother are coming, though. It might not be good for you to be here when they arrive.”
Lord Gith cut his slitted eyes toward Darkyn, who suppressed another sigh of weary frustration before reassuring the lizard slaver with, “It will be no issue for you.”
As Lord Gith retreated to his contained entourage and Elise returned to her shocked kin at the doorway of the cabin, a murmur of excitement traveled through the crowd. Darkyn turned his attention back to the path to behold a delegation finishing the rare and difficult process of matter transfer. They seemed to materialize, to appear from thin air in gracefully flowing rivers, then coalesce into whole forms. Some twenty sapphire-robed figures led by a stately man in white robes and a fierce-looking warrior in crimson robes. The group began to move toward the gathering, and Darkyn noticed five more red-robed figures walking behind the first group. These men had a rougher and more predatory appearance.
The newcomers matched him in height and build. Most had the black-black shade of hair usually associated with descendants of Arda, though some were yellow-blonde, a shade similar to his own increasing streaks. All wore capes and protective gloves the same shade as their robes. To a one, the regal men wore expressions of detachment, and they fairly radiated dignity as they walked.
Darkyn felt a new ripple of surprise and wonder, even though he knew they would answer the summons. They moved as one body, matching steps without any visible sign of practice or coordination, until they reached him. The white robed man stepped forward then, and dipped his head to Darkyn.
“I am Hoth, First Priest of the People of Kaerad. We answer your call in this time of need.”
Darkyn returned his nod and surveyed his entourage. The First Priest, the peace chief of his world, had a
lso brought his war chief, the crimson-robed man. Attending the war chief were five of Kaerad’s renowned Legio, the protectorate rumored to be able to take the shapes of wolves if needed. The men in sapphire robes were the under-priests.
The legendary Kaeradi, the galaxy’s foremost telempaths and future-seers, had no quarrel with any known world or species. Unshielded touch by an incompatible person or species could kill them, or kill the one who touched them—and any within empathic range. Thus, they typically entertained audience only on Kaerad, and even then only in times of great strife. To see them off-planet was…stunning…and sobering.
More than that, the Kaeradi had brought their entire government, their strongest men, so great was their respect for this and their understanding of the need to defeat the Barung.
“Your presence is most gratifying.” Darkyn gestured to his cabin. “My home is your home, should you require respite or haven.”
“Thank you. Our gloves and robes should be shield enough.” Hoth held up a gloved fist. “They are blessed and strong, and should block the effects of most physical contact.”
The Kaeradi’s gaze shifted to Elise Tul’Mar, who stood beside Akad near the cabin door. Hoth broke away from Darkyn then, giving a hand-signal to the Legio, who followed him soundlessly. Their feral eyes darted left and right, taking in any possible menace. In that, they reminded Darkyn of Guardian, who was circling high above, keeping watch.
Hoth of Kaerad came to a halt before Elise. Then, to Darkyn’s great shock, he knelt before her. The part of his delegation that remained in front of Darkyn turned as one and knelt with him, even the war chief. The Legio dropped to one knee, wary eyes continuing to survey the crowd, which had fallen into a freakish, still silence.
Elise seemed flabbergasted by such attention, but Darkyn felt more fitting of pieces of the great and timeless puzzle created by his ancestors.
“Long have I waited to gaze upon you, and hoped that it would be within my lifetime.” Hoth’s forceful timbre suffused with awe as he lifted his head to look at Elise. “Daughter of Kaerad, Daughter of Arda, raised by our long-displaced allies from Perth. Ban’ania. Mother and savior. We honor you for the sacrifices you’ve made, and the sacrifices you will make.”
Arda: The Captain's Fancy Page 14
