Lazlo tried to access his power again, to separate them, but that caused a cascade in Horace’s brain as he tried to match Lazlo’s ability. Horace’s legs buckled as his power center expanded. Lazlo tried to stop himself, but Horace’s power kept ballooning, siphoning off Lazlo’s inexhaustible reserves. Lazlo screamed in rage, at himself for doing this so half-assedly and at Dillon for pushing him into it.
The anger helped ground him, and he latched on to it, fighting for his own body, letting rage propel a burst of power, hoping they wouldn’t be killed as he hammered all three of them into unconsciousness.
Lazlo came back to himself slowly. He was staring at the ceiling, the rug bunched beneath him. Horace was asleep, eyelashes dark against his cheeks. His brown hair lay tousled as if he’d just run his fingers through it.
Lazlo resisted the urge to touch that hair, wondering how soft it would be, and climbed to his feet. Natalya was still asleep. They couldn’t have been out long. No one was beating down the door yet, and someone had to have felt what they’d done.
Tentatively, Lazlo probed their powers and gasped. Natalya’s macro powers might rival Marlowe’s, and her micro powers had grown threefold. Horace could match him with the right training, but he couldn’t begin to think about the ramifications of all that. He went to the door to call for help.
*
Dillon tried not to brood. Of all the colossal fuckups, this one took the cake and the prize and whatever else there was to take. When Dillon had suggested Lazlo augment some of the yafanai, he had thought the word “careful” to be implied, doubly so for Lazlo, who was usually careful about everything. He had to have been distracted, and strong feelings would only distract him further.
Lazlo’s shields were probably wide open as he eased Horace awake. It was a delicate process, if the concentration on his face was any indication. Lazlo had to bring Horace awake by degrees, wait to see if he lashed out with his power, and then bring him along a little further. Fucking baby steps.
Lazlo glanced up from where he sat on Horace’s slender bed. “It’s going well.”
Dillon nodded and kept his swears to himself. They were already light-years further along than what they’d been able to do for the other one. When Natalya first awoke, the smaller items in her room had drifted upward as if someone had switched the gravity off. As she’d focused, she’d thrown Lazlo across the room like a goddamned rag doll. Dillon had caught him and taken them both to the deck as walls of energy shattered Natalya’s dresser to kindling and cracked the plaster on the walls. She’d made a funny, hiccupping sound, chest heaving before she began to shriek. Lazlo had jumped on the bed, and everything crashed to the floor as he’d put her under again.
So far with Horace, everything was better, if painfully slow. If these two were burned, that was a fucking shame. Lazlo hadn’t even had a chance to start a new crop of plants yet.
Horace’s eyes slid open.
“Horace, you’re in your room, safe,” Lazlo said.
“I feel different.”
“Your powers have grown, but you’re going to be all right.” He looked to Dillon helplessly, but Dillon waved him to continue.
“I can feel everyone. All the people.” Horace’s eyes widened, and he grimaced.
“You can block them out. I’ll show you.” Lazlo took Horace’s hand, and calmness flowed from him like waves.
“Better,” Horace said.
“You need to learn to rebuild your shields. It’ll take time, but it’s a gift!” He gave Horace another of those awkward pats. “A wonderful gift.” He cast another panicky glance at Dillon.
“I’ll get out of your hair,” Dillon said.
Lazlo made as if to stand. “What should I—”
“Fix it. You’ll be less distracted if I’m not here.”
Lazlo winced but turned back to his patient. As Dillon left, he heard Horace ask about Natalya and knew he’d chosen the right time to leave.
*
Without Dillon radiating disappointment, it was easier to concentrate, but it left too much room to think. Lazlo patted Horace’s back in halting little circles as Horace wept in his lap. Shields were a must, and Lazlo kept his own tight, hoping Horace couldn’t feel just how uncomfortable he was.
Lazlo didn’t know if it was an overabundance of hormones or worry for Natalya, but Horace seemed determined to be as sad as possible. Lazlo couldn’t leave. He didn’t want to think of Horace crying alone. But emotions could be tempered and brain chemistry retuned so the sadness wouldn’t be so crippling.
Horace sat up. “Are you altering my feelings?”
“Just a bit, so you won’t—”
“Don’t do that. I want to feel.”
“I’m sorry.” Lazlo folded his hands on his lap.
Horace frowned hard. “I can feel how embarrassed you are. I can feel the people in the hall.”
Lazlo strengthened his shields, setting them around both of them. “It will get better, I promise.”
“Will I wind up like Nat? She’s not going to die, is she?”
“I…don’t want to lie to you.”
Horace sobbed again and leaned forward to rest on Lazlo’s knee as if the weight of the idea was too much. His emotions were so bald, naked. Lazlo wondered how long it had been since he’d seen someone so open. Ever? He’d seen inside the cells of everyone on the Atlas, but it wasn’t the same. They’d never seemed vulnerable.
He patted Horace’s hair, finding it silky, just long enough to stick up through his fingers. “We won’t give up on Natalya. Maybe if you and I work together, we can wake her safely, mute her powers enough for her to gain control.”
Horace sat up and sniffed. “I hadn’t thought of that.” He wiped his cheeks. “You’re right. I can be strong if it’ll help her.”
Lazlo smiled. “You must care for her a great deal.”
“We’ve known each other a long time.” He caught both of Lazlo’s hands in his. “Please, teach me.”
The tears made his dark eyes shine, and the color in his face brought out high cheekbones. His hair had fallen across his forehead, and Lazlo fought to keep from brushing it away. A jot of desire surprised him. He kept his shields iron tight so it wouldn’t get out, though he didn’t damn it away.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Cordelia settled beside Liam on the solid patch of ground, watching the swamp darken into twilight. Even though they could sleep in their armor, they’d taken it off. Cordelia tried to tell herself there were myriad reasons for doing so, but sitting with Liam, waiting for Nettle and Shiv, she knew there was one overarching one: sex was impossible with it on. Liam wasn’t trying to fool himself about it. After all, they’d already put Preston in charge of the squad for the night.
Shiv and Nettle had gone scouting, promising to return soon. Cordelia knew they were talking to Pool somehow and didn’t ask questions. She expected Liam to complain about the wait, but he just watched the swamp with a smile. He’d been quiet ever since Carmichael had hit him, his cheeks bearing dark red bruises. Maybe the whole incident had shocked him into silence.
Or maybe he was just occupied with thoughts of Shiv. “I’m feeling kind of nervous,” he said, “like it’s my first time.”
“Unusual for you, O expert.”
“It’s nice, even if I might jump out of my skin.”
When Shiv leapt from a tree to land nearby, Cordelia started along with Liam, and they laughed together. Shiv ignored Cordelia and kissed Liam until he moaned. Cordelia tried not to stare, wondering if they were going to do it right there, if she should leave, but after a caress that made Liam shudder, Shiv led him into the trees.
Cordelia chuckled and relaxed as Nettle settled beside her.
“Is your smile for the fighting?” Nettle asked.
“I didn’t like it as much as I thought. I’m happy about those two.”
“I hope nothing foolish comes of them.”
“They’re worth a little foolishness.”
Nett
le wrinkled her nose. “Ahya, you are right, maybe. And I like the light it puts on your beautiful face.”
Cordelia ducked her head and laughed. “Nice line.” But Nettle didn’t feed people lines. Her whole race disliked falsehoods, and flattery probably didn’t come naturally to them. When she met Nettle’s confused look, she knew it was true.
She pressed her lips to Nettle’s, finding them thin but soft. They gave under her gentle pressure, and she cupped Nettle’s cheek with one hand while Nettle caressed hers.
When they parted enough to speak, Nettle said, “Should we find a secret place of our own?”
Cordelia took another kiss before she answered. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard in a while.”
*
Weak dawn light barely penetrated the thick trees. A pattering of rain, shaken from the faraway canopy by the shifting wind, fell across Cordelia’s naked body. She shuddered, though it wasn’t cold. If she’d ever been naked in the rain, the memory was buried in childhood.
Nettle reached up from their little nest in the hollow of a tree and let the rain run down her bare arms. Her skin absorbed some of the water as bark might, but Cordelia licked a few drops off her stomach. As they’d explored each other’s bodies, Cordelia had noted the roughness of Nettle’s skin and the way her spine could bend and flex farther than any human Cordelia had known. They’d quickly learned how best to pleasure each other.
Nettle kissed her as if chasing the moisture. “The sky calls your name.”
Cordelia’s parents had told her that Sa meant rain as soon as she was old enough to understand it. They’d thought it a gentle name, but Paul had said the drushka didn’t see it that way. To them, rain was something that couldn’t be fought, only avoided. “I’ve always liked that name.”
“It suits you. You are as inescapable.” She trailed a finger down Cordelia’s neck. “And as satisfying to my thirst.”
Cordelia had to kiss her, both for her own desire and to stop the words that could lead her toward uncharted emotions, given enough time.
“The troops will be up soon,” Cordelia said.
“We have a little time.”
“And I haven’t noticed how uncomfortable this branch is until now.”
With a laugh, Nettle flowed to her feet, pulling Cordelia up, too. They pressed together, not leaving room enough for the rain to slide between them. Cordelia broke their kiss long enough to bite Nettle’s chin.
Nettle shuddered and growled, the nictitating membrane sliding over half her eye. “You do that like a drushka.”
“I’m a quick study.”
“You said we should rise, and now you bite me?”
Yeah, she had said that, hadn’t she? “I couldn’t resist.”
“I can keep my body between yours and the uncomfortable branch.”
“Maybe we have a little time.”
Nettle fell, taking Cordelia with her until they heard the calls of human voices. The squad was up and looking for her. And whether they thought she was in danger or they just wanted to rouse her from her love nest, they wouldn’t stop anytime soon.
She and Nettle dressed and descended. Liam was waiting, already in armor, and by the time she donned hers, he had the troops ready to march.
“Does sex with a drushka come with a dose of initiative?” she asked.
He chuckled. “Yours clearly didn’t.”
She gave him the finger, and as they marched to the head of the squad, he mumbled, “Shiv had to rejoin her mother. I didn’t have anything else to do.”
“I knew it had to be something like that.”
Though her armor still held a charge, she marched along the lower branches with the leathers as Nettle led them back to the Oosjani Road. Cordelia walked beside Nettle when she could and had to fight to keep her hands to herself. They were already sneaking constant glances. Cordelia had to shake her head to stop staring at Nettle’s lips, her thighs, the line of her neck.
“What does oosjani mean, anyway?” Liam said loudly.
Nettle glanced over her shoulder. “Path is how you might say it.”
Cordelia frowned. “So, this is the Road Road?”
“Humans asked for a word that meant path. We did wonder when they put their own word on it as well.”
Cordelia laughed, but as she realized that the end of the Oosjani would mean parting from Nettle, she sighed. “Where will your people live now?”
“There’s room in Gale,” Liam said.
“Only Pool can say for certain.”
When Shiv leapt to land beside them, Cordelia started again, but everyone else seemed to have gotten used to how abruptly she appeared. “My mother has said nothing to me about where we will live.”
“Does that mean you can come back with us?” Liam asked.
“Ahwa, no! The drushka must remain together inside the trees. It is our home.”
It was a quiet march after that, Cordelia trying to watch her surroundings, trying not to focus on saying good-bye. As the trees began to thin and the swamp turned into forest, Liam and Shiv embraced enthusiastically, sharing another of those kisses that made everyone turn away.
Cordelia glanced at Nettle. “Our turn? Just how uncomfortable do we want to make everyone?”
“More jokes. It is how you guard your emotions, ahya?”
“Definitely.”
“Then, my laughing one, I will simply say good-bye.” She squeezed Cordelia’s hands once before gathering the rest of the drushka and melting back into the trees.
Cordelia turned to see the squad grinning. She took a deep breath, fighting a flush, ready to shout at them to get their asses moving, but Liam cleared his throat.
“Column, march!” he barked. The soldiers moved out, staring forward. He gave Cordelia a shrug. “As I’ve always told my mom, there’s no need to get loud.”
Sometimes getting loud did the work for you, but she didn’t mention that, content to let Liam steer the column so she could remember all that had happened between her and Nettle without thinking too hard on what it all meant.
By the time they reached the keep, the leathers were exhausted. Even Cordelia was starting to feel some strain. The armor made a long hike infinitely easier, but she couldn’t keep walking for days and not feel anything. She took her helmet off inside the courtyard and stretched as the column marched past, all of them dismissed to rest.
A leather on guard duty waved to her. “There’s a delivery waiting for you, Lieutenant.” He gestured at a cloth-covered lump.
She reached for the card on top. “For my niece,” it read, “Your ballista.”
With a whoop, she yanked the cloth away, revealing a collection of wooden parts and a long length of sinew. Her fatigue forgotten, she waded in, picking up parts and trying to figure out how they went together. Leave it to the Sun-Moons to give her a disassembled weapon.
“Building a home of your own?” Liam called. He’d sneaked into the keep at some point and now reemerged wearing only trousers. His hair was wet, and he had a towel around his neck.
“It’s a weapon, not a house.”
“Looks a bit unwieldy.”
She picked up a large pole. “Hold this.”
“I hope you’re joking! Just how heavy is that?”
“Why the hell did you take your armor off?”
“Some of us like to bathe.”
“So, find someone who’s armored.”
He rolled his eyes but fetched Brown and Lea.
“What the hell, Ross?” Brown asked. “Drushka give you that?”
“It’s a ballista, and you can help me put it together, or you can leave.”
Lea’s stern face lit up, and he climbed into the mess at Cordelia’s side. “Like the wooden models I used to build with my dad.”
“Here,” Cordelia said, “this looks as if it fits in that slot. Come on, Brown, get your ass to work.”
She sighed but pitched in, and with three of them building and Liam directing, they had it together in no
time. About seven feet long, it rolled on wooden wheels and had a boxy contraption at the front with a hole facing outward.
“It launches a spear?” Lea asked.
“As big as a small tree trunk,” Cordelia said with a grin.
He studied the mechanism. “This crank pulls back the sinew, you put the spear in, and you pull this lever.”
Cordelia pulled the lever, and the sinew made an echoing “pong” sound. She grinned harder.
“Did they send the spear?” Lea asked.
Cordelia shook her head. “I’m sure we can find something.”
“Not me. I’m going out on patrol,” Brown said.
Lea waved her away. “I’ll catch up.”
She grumbled as she left, but Cordelia ignored her. She and Lea rooted around the back of the keep while Liam made fun of them. They found a small beam, wheeled the ballista outside the palisade, and watched it hurl the beam far into the fields.
“Unwieldy but impressive,” Lea said. With a nod of good-bye, he left.
Cordelia grinned at Liam, who nodded toward the keep. “Now will you bathe?” he asked.
“Fine. Since you keep harping on it.” She wheeled the ballista back inside Gale.
“I’m only thinking of you. In the armor, you don’t smell bad, but I doubt you’ll want to wear it to the Prog. And if you take it off without bathing, you’ll bleach all the wood in the place.”
“Now you’re just being mean because you don’t have a big phallic toy.”
“Oh, but I do. I just don’t share it with you. Keep moving.”
She parked the ballista in the keep’s courtyard and patted it. She’d have to drop by her uncle’s and thank him. Or send him a note. Yes, a nice, avoidant note.
*
B46 grunted as she laid her latest clutch of eggs in a tangle of underwater roots. She never would have laid so close to the clutches of others in the before times, but now she knew to post guards. All the children could be born together.
She trailed her claws along the hides of the guards as she passed. They grunted, keeping watch on the swamp. They were so clever. She’d never known she could be content just by staying close to those she’d borne.
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