Rebel Princess

by Bancroft, Blair

  “Stand next to the table.” Dann’s voice was coming to her through speakers now, the door between the rooms closed tight. “Now prove your claim, Kiolani. Move the feather.”

  Kass crossed her arms, leaned back against the table as if she hadn’t a care in the world. They had all left their seats to stand at the window, watching her. She could even see Stagg’s head rising above the heads at the rear. “I can blow the feather away with one puff,” Kass said. “Why should I bother to use my talents on it.”

  The look on Dann’s face told Kass she could be heard through the thick pane of glass, even before the psych doc snapped, “Batani witch, do as you’re told.”

  Kass stared at the psych doc’s agitated face. Merveille! Dann’s skin was turning blotchy. “If you’d only ask nicely,” Kass purred.

  “Doctor Dann.” The voice of the oldest committee member was loud enough to echo through the psych doctor’s speaker system. “Allow me.” Plucking the voice amplifier from around Dann’s neck, he fitted it to himself. “Young lady,” he pronounced, directing his words to Kass, “if you can do what you say you can, then please show us. I, for one, am intensely curious about your abilities. Indulge an old man and let us see what you can do.”

  Common sense at last. With some effort Kass tamped down her belligerence. Cooperate with the examining committee, dazzle them with some simple Psyclid trick, enough to shut them up. Tal had been right, of course. She was just being stubborn. He’d saved her from the-goddess-alone-knew-what, and for his sake, as much as for her own, she had to prove him right.

  Kass didn’t even look at the feather, the stuffed toy, or the rock. Still leaning against the table, facing the watchers in the window, she raised the three objects above her head, rotating them in a circle while she watched the reactions in the conference room above. Shock. Disbelief. Awe. Fury. The last from Liona Dann.

  With slow, almost lazy movement, she spiraled the three objects toward the viewing window, skimming them along within inches of the stunned faces of the Hierarchy, or whoever they were. Holding the rock and the toy steady, she waggled the feather in front of Liona Dann’s nose. Kass still stood, arms crossed, leaning against the metal table, openly taunting Tal Rigel’s former lover. A long frozen moment and then Dann charged through the gaping crowd. A side door slammed open, clanged closed, as the pysch doctor disappeared into another room. Uh-oh, what now?

  Kass returned the feather and the toy to the table, pulled the rock back to the far side of the room and launched it straight at the window. The crowd surged back. She caught the rock just short of its goal and let it hover there, almost touching the plastiglass, while they all inched back toward the window, eyes fixed on her impish, satisfied grin.

  The older man nodded. “Well done, Kiolani. Though what you’ve done is beyond our comprehension, we stand rebuked.”

  Thank the goddess, it was over.

  Metal clanged as a door opened. Not the door to the conference room. Wha . . . ? Kass stared at a plasticrate that had been thrust into the room, the door swiftly closed behind it. A plasticrate with ventilation holes. A plasticrate with something very bad. Evil. She could feel it.

  A click. A remote control, Kass realized. The latches on the crate popped open.

  Long moments of nothing as Kass watched for signs of movement, never taking her gaze off the crate. At last a sleek black nose, a flash of red, a flash of yellow. By the time the snake was halfway out, Kass was on the table. A quick glance at the viewing window and she could see the older man arguing with Doctor Dann, who was so lost in her own venomous world that she snatched the speaker system from him, draping it over her own head.

  “Let’s see what you can do with that,” she hissed.

  “That,” Kass said, “is a krall, the deadliest snake in the known universe. Blue Moon has no snakes, and it is forbidden to import them. A rather diabolical plot to get rid of me, Doc, but it won’t work.”

  “If you’re really a sorceress,” Commander Dann countered, “you can stop it.”

  Kass glanced at the snake, which seemed to be checking the room, its shining black head moving from side to side, discovering she was the only action available. “I’ve already proved I can teleport,” Kass said in the even tones one uses to a person whose reasoning powers seemed to have dimmed. “Commander Dann, let the Lieutenant Stagg kill the snake.”

  “No!” Liona Dann threw herself in front of the lieutenant, who was already moving forward, Steg-9 in hand. “Stop! I’m in command here.” The two lab coats joined her in barring the lieutenant’s way.

  “This is overkill, Commander,” Kass declared. “You’re not a believer. You don’t think I can save myself. Which means that snake is premeditated murder. You thought you could kill me without repercussions. Just a test gone wrong.”

  Vaguely, Kass heard murmurs from the crowd at the window, but if Dann offered a denial, she missed it. Her full attention, every last neuron of her brain, was on the krall, which had started its attack glide, slithering across the floor straight for the metal table. “Stand back from the window,” Kass ordered, without taking her eyes off the snake. Fyd! She really hadn’t wanted to go this far, but the psych doc left her no choice. “Keep away from the chairs!” she added, though she didn’t dare turn her head to see if they’d taken her orders seriously. Like the night Olin Lusk died, this was survival. No holds barred. Kill or be killed. And the victim wasn’t going to be L’ira Faelle Maedan Orlondami, aka Kass Kiolani.

  When the krall was halfway to the table, Kass flung it against the wall. Again and again until it was a flattened bloody mess. She bombarded the viewing window with a stream of chairs from the conference room, enough to shatter the plastiglass, sending shards flying into the lab, where she was sheltering behind the overturned table.

  The bloody snake, entrails hanging out, flew into the conference room, smacking Liona Dann in the face. Her screams were still echoing when Psyclid’s Princess Royal and heir designate to the ParaPrime, the planet’s chief sorceress, stepped through a door into the corridor and closed it firmly, shutting out the uproar she left behind.

  Kass gripped the gilded bannister, gazing up at the spiraling climb to her room. For twenty-one years she had honed her gifts for peaceful purposes, for the benefit of others, for sheer spectacle, for fun. And then, against all the tenets of her people, she had reveled in the war games on Orion, the exhilaration of a job well done. No harm, no foul.

  But in the last two weeks, she had killed three men and a krall, shattered two Imperial Tau-15s, clipped members of the rebel Hierarchy with flying chairs, scattered plastiglass on a roomful of innocent people, and smacked Tal Rigel’s mistress in the face with the remains of a the galaxy’s most venomous snake.

  Good going, Kass. The Hierarchy’s going to give you a medal.

  The stairs still loomed. She was so drained she thought she might have to crawl up them on her hands and knees. Strong hands swept her up, tossing her over a shoulder she instantly recognized from her height off the floor and the bright red of his uniform. Marines to the rescue. Again.

  In less than a minute she was sitting on the white and silver sofa with the lieutenant frowning down at her. “You all right, Kiolani? You don’t look so good.”

  “I just need some rest.” Kass leaned back and closed her eyes.

  “I would have killed it, you know that. I was in the doorway when you zapped it against the wall.”

  “I did know that,” Kass murmured, “but there were enough people in that room to stop you if they wanted to. I couldn’t be sure. And besides . . .” Kass drew in a deep breath, as if hoping enough air would pry out the words she was reluctant to admit. “I am cursed with a temper, Lieutenant. I can go years without a glimpse of it, and now, in two weeks time, it’s erupted twice. Perhaps even three times. What I felt when I saw Tal Rigel was still alive was closer to rage than shock. Those Tau-15s didn’t stand a chance.”

  “Whatever happens, Dama, know that Quint and I are wit
h you.”

  Kass’s eyes snapped open. “Thank you . . . Anton. I’m afraid I’m going to need all the friends I can get.”

  “May I get you some wine, Dama? I can send Quint, he’s just outside the door.”

  “Lunelle or ullali. Perhaps both. Thank you.”

  Stagg flashed an appreciative grin. Lunelle was Blue Moon’s exclusive product, a blue wine of legendary quality. Ullali, produced on Psyclid, a liqueur that some claimed was potent enough to wake the dead.

  The door swung open, and B’ram Biryani rushed toward them—as fast as Kass had ever seen the old man move. Now she was certain he had at least a touch of the gift of telepathy. He was carrying a tray holding three bottles—lunelle, ullali, and vinali, Psyclid’s white wine.

  “If there is anything more I can do, you have only to ask,” the lieutenant told her before leaving her alone with Veranelle’s majordomo.

  Biryani’s hand trembled as he poured the ullali Kass requested. He seemed to have aged five years in the scant two hours since she’d last seen him. In fact . . . were those tears in his faded gray eyes?

  He handed her the glass and stepped back, standing at military attention. “Your Highness—Honored Dama, I had no idea. None. If I had thought they planned to hurt you, I would have roused everyone to fight for you. A thousand apologies. That I could let such a thing happen under this roof—”

  Kass dragged herself forward, seized his hand. “Listen to me, Biryani, there was no way you could have known, or even guessed. Everyone was surprised. It was the work of Doctor Liona Dann. An act of jealous rage, I think.”

  Could she lower herself to ask? Kass squeezed the majordomo’s wrinkled hand in thanks then leaned back against the sofa, a wry smile at her own churning emotions tugging at her lips. “Biryani, when I was aboard Captain Rigel’s ship, Orion, Commander Dann was his mistress. It was supposed to be a secret, but all the females knew. I assume that hasn’t changed?”

  The old man kept his gaze fixed on the pale green watered silk wall-covering behind Kass’s head. “It is generally known that the captain has not visited the doctor for many months now.” Biryani considered the matter, obviously juggling dates in his head. “Well over a year, Dama. Of that I am quite certain.”

  “He has a new woman?”

  “Not on Blue Moon, dama.” Biryani offered a slight sniff and added, “I cannot attest, however, to what the captain gets up to on his travels.”

  “Thank you, Biryani. As always, you are a treasure. Please leave the tray. I will help myself.”

  “I will send up a maid with a bit of food, dama. You need nourishment.”

  Kass managed a full-blown smile. B’ram Biryani was indeed a treasure.

  The old man paused with his hand on the door, turned slowly back. “Highness?” Kass looked up. “No one notices servants. I hear many things. And everywhere it was said the captain was obsessed by a woman locked in solitary confinement. He said it was because she could be a powerful secret weapon against the Empire. Others insisted his interest was personal. After all, why else would he give up Commander Dann? Now . . .” B’ram Biryani shrugged his scrawny shoulders. “Now I think perhaps both sides were right.” The majordomo of Veranelle, the Psyclid summer palace, went out, quietly closing the door behind him.

  Obsessed, was he? Kass fumed. So where was he? Lt. Anton Stagg carried her limp body up the stairs, B’ram Biryani brought her sustenance, as well as his concern. But where was Tal Rigel?

  Abandoned again.

  Kass resented being exhausted, powerless, and alone. Since the captain seemed to be in control of her life, the least he could do was be there when she needed him. Truth was, when she’d calmed her churning thoughts, she knew exactly where he was. Downstairs, doing his best to clean up the mess she’d made. Smoothing the ruffled feathers of the Hierarchy, the hysterics of Liona Dann.

  At least no one would expect the great S’sorrokan to clean up the remains of the snake.

  So why did she feel a tear slipping down her cheek?

  Some powerful weapon she was if a few moments of concentrated power were all she could manage at one time. Kass Kiolani, secret weapon with no reload capability.

  She refilled her glass, holding the ullali up to the window to see the light shine through the amber liquid only slightly darker than her eyes. Sunlight. She had only to turn the casement latch and she could breathe in fresh air. She was wearing the gown of a princess, sitting on a sofa of white and silver silk brocade. She was in the Round Tower of Veranelle, summer home of the House of Orlondami. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she should be burning incense to the goddess.

  Kass took a long sip of ullali, then wiggled her way into the corner of the sofa, lay back against the tasseled pillows, and closed her eyes. He would come. Tal Rigel would come to her, and she would know her fate at last.

  Chapter 9

  “Sergeant?” Tal, standing on the top step of the spiral staircase, raised a questioning eyebrow as Kass’s sturdy marine guardian blocked the doorway to her room.

  “She’s asleep, Captain,” Quint told him. “I let the maid in half an hour ago with a tray of food, and there she was, sound asleep on the couch.”

  Ah yes, the urge to protect the fragile little Psyclid. Tal understood it well.

  “Unfortunately, Quint, Vaden is coming to speak with her, and I need to talk to her first. So stand aside.”

  “Sir.” With a glare that should have singed the shirt off Tal’s back, the sergeant side-stepped to a position to the right of Kass’s door.

  Quint was correct, Tal discovered. Kass was sound asleep, her head resting on a mound of pillows at one end of the sofa, knees drawn up in fetal position, her only covering a turquoise gown that belonged in a ballroom and her long fall of straight black hair. One strand extended like a shining black waterfall all the way down to the thick blue carpet. Kass Kiolani. Fragile, vulnerable, so insubstantial she looked as if the first breeze could blow her away, and yet . . .

  No wonder people couldn’t see her for what she really was. But Tal was a believer. He knew. Yet standing here watching her slight figure curled in sleep, long black lashes dusting cheekbones sculpted of honey, a tempting mouth that invited love, not war, he still found it difficult to believe she was responsible for the havoc he’d just left.

  He’d been in his suite when he got Stagg’s frantic call. We have a situation. Conference room now! Supposedly, he was working on the plan for Astarte’s next mission, but all he was actually doing was pacing his office, wondering what was happening at Kass’s examination. After Stagg’s call, he’d taken off, running, arriving just in time to see Kass disappearing around the bend in the corridor. He wanted to charge after her, but the screams, shouts, and general chaos coming from the conference room reminded him where duty lay.

  It had taken more than an hour to deal with it all. The image of Liona’s blond beauty covered in krall guts would be with him for the rest of his life. Of first importance, however, was finding out if any more venomous snakes were crawling around the palace. After that, he’d dealt with Liona. Rather summarily. Then the shocked Hierarchy. Well, a few were still shocked, but most were jubilant by the time he got to them. By Omni, what a secret weapon! Some even slapped him on the back, complimenting him on his daring in adding the feisty little Psyclid’s talents to the rebellion.

  A lot of palaver, soothing words, modest acceptance of congratulations. And, finally, Tal had swallowed his pride long enough to ask Torik Vaden for time to speak to Kass before the older man delivered the Hierarchy’s decision in person.

  Now, however, as Tal looked down at her, he could only feel the whole incident had been a chimera. This beautiful, delicate, innocent girl could not possibly have done the damage he’d seen.

  That was his heart talking; his head knew better. What was it about Kass Kiolani? Even as a cadet, she’d intrigued him. And not just because of her “malfunctioning” trajectories. When she left Orion to return to her final year at t
he Academy, he’d been relieved. Temptation out of sight, out of mind. Only it hadn’t worked that way. In spite of his many years of strict military discipline, the blasted girl insinuated herself into his dreams. An attack on his psyche that forced him to tuck her into the corner of his brain reserved for experiences too dangerous to be repeated. But there was no denying it, he missed her. And then, just when he thought he’d conquered her power to play with his mind, Mical told him about the students’ plans to gang rape the little Psyclid witch.

  Omnovah help him, there it was! For absolutely no reason that made any sense, he’d scrambled to help her, risking his father and friends as well as himself as they settled her into her velvet prison. That’s all he intended to do—provide a safe place until she could be returned home. Except . . . somewhere over the green land and blue seas of Psyclid, he realized how much he didn’t want to be here. How ridiculous it was for the Empire to be taking over a small star system with no strategic value. A nation so strongly pacifist they didn’t even have an army.

  Which brought up the question, what in the name of the nine hells of Obsidias was a girl from Psyclid doing in the Regulon Space Academy? Spying, said the admirals and the Council of Twelve a few weeks later, condemning whoever had whisked the Psyclid sorceress out from under their noses. And, not incidentally, turning Captain Tal Rigel into a traitor, even if only three people in the whole Nebulon Sector knew what he had done.

  Tal’s confusion and guilt deepened as he recalled following Fleet orders to fire on Psyclid passenger and merchant ships, not a gun or missile among them. It had been wrong, flat out wrong. The Empire didn’t need a planet full of weirdos, as useless as they were defenseless . . . And finally, for the first time Tal began to question what had been ingrained since childhood—the complete devotion of the Rigel family to the aggressive expansion of the Regulon Empire.

  Even if Regula Prime was in dire need of a planet’s resources, what right did the Empire have to simply swoop in and take what they wanted? Often against opponents far more able to defend themselves than the Psyclids, resulting in extensive loss of life on both sides.