Razor's Edge

by Lisanne Norman

  “Fine by me,” she said, the relief at being able to get out of the cold evident in her voice. Tiernay gave her a hand up.

  They’d barely finished unloading when Jaisa returned with the work party—and Dr. Nyaam, who immediately headed for Nyaz.

  “Where’s Shanka?” Tiernay asked Jaisa.

  “He decided to stay,” she replied, refusing eye contact.

  They both picked up her unvoiced thought.

  “You’ll have to watch that one,” Zashou heard Rezac say to Tiernay in a low voice. “He’s a liability.”

  “He’s my problem,” said Tiernay, turning away.

  “See that he doesn’t become mine,” Rezac growled, opening the cab door. Zashou was sitting on the passenger seat. He hesitated, then got in, closing the door behind him.

  “I thought you’d want to get up to the monastery with the others,” he said.

  “I’m not much use at carrying weights, but I can help with the van,” she said, looking over at him. “We each do what we can.”

  He nodded.

  “Can’t you leave this to someone else?” she asked. “You’re dead on your feet.”

  “No. I want it done properly. Our lives depend on it.” He turned to look into the interior. “How is he?”

  “Touch and go,” Dr. Nyaam answered. “Any idea how long he’s been in shock?”

  “None, I was driving. Zashou?”

  She shook her head. “I slept through the last part of the journey. Jaisa might know.”

  “Did anyone give him food or drink after he sustained the injury?”

  “No,” said Zashou. “He’s been unconscious since it happened.”

  “Let’s get him up to the infirmary,” said Nyaam, moving back to let the stretcher bearers load him. “Be careful,” he warned, “he’s on a drip.”

  When they were clear, a couple of youths climbed in.

  “We’re with you,” said one as the other shut the rear doors.

  Rezac drove back down the track until he came to a fork. Taking the left branch, he headed along it for a couple of kilometers before coming to a stop in front of a rocky outcrop. Ahead was a large tangle of thorny bushes still covered in thick green leaves. The few orange berries that the birds hadn’t eaten made a splash of color against the layers of snow.

  “This’ll do.” He turned round to the youths in the rear of the van. “Try to open the bushes out enough to let me drive into the center.”

  They nodded, drawing machetes out of their belts before they got down.

  “You’d be better off getting out now,” he said to Zashou. “There’s no need for both of us to get ripped up by the thorns.”

  Nodding, she climbed out, aware that he was watching her. She walked ahead to stand in the shelter of the rock face. The headlights illuminated her, the light glinting off the beads in her hair and the silver bracelets that encircled her wrists.

  Stamping her feet to keep them warm, she tucked her hands under her armpits. They seemed to be almost finished now. The bushes grew in long prickle-studded arches and the two younglings, both having had the sense to bring thick gloves, had been pulling these back and anchoring them under the shorter growths on the outside edges of the bushes. A large area near the heart of the bush was rapidly becoming a lot clearer.

  As they began to hack at the ground growth with their machetes, Zashou looked back to the van, opening her mouth in a smile for Rezac. He glanced away, obviously unwilling to catch her eye.

  She frowned, looking away quickly herself. Had she done something wrong? Surely not. She was only being friendly. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by one of the lads yelling “Ready!” and beckoning Rezac forward.

  He started up the engine and slowly rolled the van into the heart of the bushes. It was a tight fit. Cutting the motor and lights, he opened the door and climbed down onto the relatively snow-free ground. She watched as, keeping his face to the van side, he inched his way out, the tiny sharp thorns catching on his tunic and legs. Just before he cleared the bush, a tenacious sucker wrapped itself around his calf, digging viciously into his flesh as he tried to pull loose. With a few choice words, he ripped his leg free and stumbled out into the clearing.

  “Cover it up,” he ordered, hopping on one leg as he rubbed the other, trying to get the tiny thorns out.

  Zashou hid a grin behind her hand and tried to swallow her laughter.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he growled, refusing to look at her as he gave up on the leg.

  The van concealed to his satisfaction, branches were cut for each of them to use as switches to erase the tire tracks and their footprints. The two younglings went ahead, Zashou and Rezac following a few meters behind them to make sure no traces of their passage remained.

  The snow was falling faster now, adding another layer to conceal the marks of their passage.

  Khuushoi is certainly smiling on us tonight, she sent to Rezac.

  He grunted. I don’t hold much faith in Goddesses or Gods.

  Rezac glanced sideways at the female as every now and then she walked backward to check the effectiveness of her path-sweeping. Despite himself, he was beginning to be impressed by her tenacity. Intelligent, flamboyant in personality and image, it was natural to assume she was the same as her husband. Shanka didn’t know what hard work was, but Zashou was a reliable and diligent member of the little research team headed by Dr. Vartra.

  She played hard, too. Her main friends were the other members of their group, though to his knowledge she’d had a couple of lovers among the other students over the year they had all known each other.

  Her mate did just enough work to manage to stay with the team and make it appear that he was doing more. He was frequently seen around campus with one if not two of his current half dozen females. He had money, and they enjoyed helping him spend it.

  Rezac snorted in disgust. He despised people like Shanka, the socially advantaged who could buy their way out of any problem. He’d had dealings with too many of them in the past.

  He felt a hand on his arm and realized Zashou was talking to him.

  “Rezac, what is it? Gods, you’re freezing!” she said.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “No, you’re not. Your fur is standing on end. You were exhausted when we arrived, never mind now. Your body can’t cope with this cold. We’ve got to get you into the warm as soon as possible.”

  “I’m fine, I tell you,” he snapped.

  She grabbed hold of him, forcing him to stop. “Rezac, the snow has set in for the night. Even if we did nothing, our tracks would be gone by morning. Leave it to the younglings: They’re dressed for it. One casualty today is enough! We don’t need you becoming hypothermic.”

  He hesitated. There was sense in what she said and now that he’d stopped moving, he could feel himself trembling with fatigue and the cold.

  “Come on, let’s go ahead,” she said, pulling him onward.

  He nodded finally, throwing his branch into the nearest bush.

  She did likewise and they increased their speed, overtaking the two youths.

  “I’ll leave it to you,” said Rezac. “We’re going on ahead.”

  They nodded, giving a brief wave as Zashou and Rezac passed them.

  Gamely Zashou plodded through the snow in Rezac’s wake. His longer legs took him farther ahead with each stride. Just as she thought she’d lost him, his hand grasped her.

  “You’re not in much better shape yourself,” he said, “despite your jacket.” He swung her up into his arms, refusing to put her down despite her protests. After a few minutes she stopped complaining, realizing they were actually making better speed.

  “About time you shut up,” he said. “Nearly deafened me with your moaning, yet you were the one that said we had to get back quickly! You need to learn your own limits, then you won’t pick a job you aren’t able to cope with.”

  “I didn’t realize the snow was so deep,�
� she said. “And you didn’t realize it was so cold!”

  He grunted and continued walking in silence, aware of the warmth of her body in his arms and her scent in his nostrils.

  He woke suddenly, hypersensitive to her presence, only aware of their Link and his need for her. It had begun well enough, he was sure of it. So vivid had the dream been that he could still feel the pressure of her body against his chest.

  In her bed, she moved restlessly and once again the pull of their Link surged through him—and her, calling them together. Throwing the blankets aside, he got to his feet. The fire had burned down to a faint glow. He shivered. He both dreaded and lived for their Link days because it was the only time he felt complete—when their minds spoke directly to each other without the ability to lie or hurt. Then they belonged together, bodies and souls as one, the way it was meant to be, deny it as they might the next day.

  Lifting the covers, he slipped into the bed beside her, reaching out to draw her closer. At his touch, she woke, her face creasing in a frown, ears flicking.

  It’s time, he sent, continuing to pull her closer despite her resistance.

  You might be less demanding about it.

  The words were sharper than the intent, he knew. Already she was relaxing against him, letting him wrap his arms around her.

  Yesterday’s over, Zashou. Let’s leave it behind. This is our day now, he sent persuasively, his teeth gently catching hold of one of her ears.

  Like a tide flowing up a river, their minds began to merge, becoming one. She sighed and reached a hand up to his neck. Her touch was like fire to his heightened senses, at once burning and relieving his need to hold her. He could feel the same need building in her as she pressed herself closer to him. The tension began to leave her body and within his arms, at last she began to relax.

  Lijou greeted him in his private quarters, getting up as the door opened to admit him. “Thank you for accepting my invitation, Kaid,” he said, reaching out to touch fingertips with him as he entered. “Well come to Stronghold. I intend to make sure your stay this time will be far more pleasant than your last one. Have you settled in? You’re only a few doors away from me and from Kha’Qwa if you should need anything.”

  “I thought the suite was rather grand,” Kaid murmured, returning the gesture and accepting the seat the priest indicated.

  “One of our guest quarters,” said Lijou, sitting down. “I sent for coffee and c’shar because I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer.”

  “C’shar, please.” It felt strange being here. Memories of years gone by came back to him as he looked round Lijou’s personal office cum lounge. The last time he’d been in this room was when they’d come for Vanna. Before that, it had been Jyarti’s, Lijou’s predecessor as Head Priest.

  “You must have spent a lot of time in this study,” said Lijou as he poured him his drink.

  “I divided it between here and the library,” said Kaid. “I was helping Jyarti with refining the religious aspects of the Brothers’ training.”

  “And it’s those skills we have need of again. I’m afraid you’ll be something of a test case for us in our training of telepathic priests.”

  Kaid raised a questioning eye ridge as he picked up his mug.

  “We’ve never had to initiate such a wide-scale training of telepaths before. You’ll be our first, which is another reason why, with the help of Kha’Qwa, we’ll be working with you. We need your feedback.”

  Kaid shrugged. “What help I can give is yours.” He watched Lijou settle back into his chair, wondering what was coming next.

  “We do have one expert here, one who’ll surprise you. Tutor Sorli, from the Telepath Guild. He’s requested some time here in retreat to meditate at the temple, but he’s also agreed to help us.”

  “Sorli? What tears him away from Esken?” This was a surprise.

  “You know as much as I do. He keeps his thoughts firmly to himself and will say nothing more on the subject. Naturally, I haven’t pressed him about the matter.”

  “Naturally.” Kaid hesitated, wondering if this was some plot of Esken’s, then discarded the thought.

  “Sorli may be an apologist for his Guild Master, but he’s no one’s puppet, Kaid. I have to admit, I considered the possibility, too.”

  “Sorli’s as straight as a new blade. If he’s here, then it’s at his own request. Still, I wonder what goes on at their guild.”

  “We’ll find out in time,” said Lijou placidly. “We have one or two folk among the warriors guarding the Terran contingent. However, it wasn’t about this I wanted to talk to you today, it was about Vartra. It’s been nearly two weeks since you returned from the Margins, time for what you saw and heard there to sink in fully. We need to discuss it frankly now—need to decide what should become known only within the Order, and what can be made public.”

  “We need to ensure that no one else returns to the past,” said Kaid grimly. “We know it can be altered. Now there is a balance; matters have come out best for us in this time. Should anyone else attempt to return and succeed, then the balance could be disrupted, maybe even allow the chance that the Valtegans still on Shola were not all killed in the Cataclysm. General Kezule had planned to weather the disaster out in the mountains with a few of his soldiers and some eggs in the hope of returning to take control of our world again once it was over. Had we not gone back, he might have succeeded.”

  He watched in satisfaction as the priest’s face took on a look of profound shock, his ears lying flat against his skull in fear.

  “It was that close?”

  Kaid nodded. “You were right, Lijou. We had to return to the Margins for the good of Shola.”

  “Tell me it all.”

  Perhaps not all, thought Kaid. Would it help prevent others even thinking of trying if they knew the only reason we survived was because I came from the past? Do I keep my life private, or make it public for the good of our world?

  Chapter 4

  The cell door slid open with its usual clang. You’d think in this day and age they could have made it silent, Keeza thought, watching the two guards from her bunk bed.

  “Get up. Face the rear wall,” the nearer guard ordered. “Hands behind your back.”

  She stood, turning her back to them, and waited while he came across the narrow room. She was roughly grasped first by one hand then the other, as the metal wrist restraint was locked in place.

  “What’s it now?” she demanded. “You could at least leave me in peace tonight! Bother me all you want tomorrow.”

  “You should be so lucky,” the guard snorted, grasping her by the upper arm and pulling her round to face him. “You got a visitor. Some official.” He led her out of the cell.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” the other said, teeth prominent in his openmouthed grin as he locked the door behind him. “They don’t grant pardons for the likes of you.”

  Used to the taunts over the last couple of days, she didn’t bother answering them. This visitor, though, that intrigued her. What official would want to speak to her? What could they want from her? They’d gotten all they needed with their damned telepaths at the trial; they knew there was nothing left to tell.

  Resisting slightly, she made them drag her along the corridors and through the successive check point gates till they came to the Chief Warden’s office. A knock on the door, and she was thrust inside.

  The figure at the window turned slowly to look at her. The first thing she noticed was the long gray robe.

  “This is Keeza Lassah, Brother,” said the Warden, getting to his feet. “I’ll leave you alone while you talk to her.”

  L’Seuli nodded.

  Narrowing her eyes against the last of the daylight, Keeza weighed him up. Of average height, he was stockily built, as far as she could tell with those robes. The sandy-colored pelt coupled with the rounded ears set low on his head suggested a desert dweller. The light behind him illuminated him from an angle, accentuating the planes of his face
. A strong face, the jawline broad and firm, eyes set wide above his cheekbones, nose narrow, ending with pale flesh. He returned her gaze impassively. She gave an involuntary shudder. Like all of his kind, someone to reckon with.

  Keeza waited till the warden had left before jerking her head backward to indicate her cuffs. “You going to let me go?”

  He ignored her question. “I have a proposition for you, Keeza Lassah,” he said. “A job that requires some of your skills.”

  She snorted derisively. “I thought you folk did your own killing! In case you haven’t heard, I won’t be around after dawn tomorrow.”

  “If you accept this task, your death sentence will be commuted—once certain safeguards have been taken.”

  Her eye ridges met in anger. “I won’t have my mind messed with by those damned telepaths!”

  He began to turn away. “As you wish. I’d have thought life and freedom were an acceptable payment for so simple an assignment.”

  She growled, tail flicking jerkily, ears flattening. Whatever it was, it was obviously dangerous, but it offered a chance of survival. “Tell me.”

  “You want me to turn this into a Consortia?” There was frank disbelief in the female’s voice as she surveyed L’Seuli’s companion. “When I agreed to help you, I had no idea you’d provide me with such raw material!”

  “Think of it as a challenge,” said L’Seuli soothingly.

  Khaimoe got to her feet and paced round Keeza, her silken robe rustling as she did. “She’s got nothing to start with! No posture, no shape—and what do you call this?” With a lightning fast movement, she reached out to pluck a strand of Keeza’s tabby brown hair, holding it out for him to inspect.

  “Hey!” Keeza exclaimed, batting Khaimoe’s hand away and pulling back from her. “I didn’t ask to come here, just remember that!”

  “She’s been in a correction center, what do you expect?”

  “A correction center?” Khaimoe’s eyes narrowed as she returned to her chair. “What’s she done?”

  “Nothing that need worry you, Khaimoe, you have my word on that,” said L’Seuli calmly, getting to his feet. “I think you’re being unkind. Some decent food, oil treatments for her hair and she’ll look the part. It isn’t as if she’s unattractive.”