Rainscape

by Jaye Roycraft

  She circled, and Rayn knew she was positioning herself so that the sun was no longer directly in her eyes. He smiled. Her quick mind was indeed back at work.

  “My partner will be here soon.”

  “Your partner.”

  “Such excellent hearing. Yes, my partner. So I have to stay.”

  He laughed. “You’re not on Glacia anymore, little girl.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “This isn’t the tidy, civilized world you’re used to.”

  “There’s nothing civilized in what I deal with. I was attacked. This is now a crime scene. You and I both need to stay here. That clear enough for a primitive like you?”

  “The scene will keep.” The words were patient, as to a child. “You won’t.”

  “How’s this then? I don’t know you. I’m definitely not letting you take me gods know where.”

  Rayn swore softly to himself, his hands on his hips and his head thrown back, as if the heavens could send him a response to her obstinacy. Being a witness at a crime scene in front of half the Aeternan Enforcement Agency was not a desirable option. This lightning storm needed to be controlled.

  He dropped his head and turned toward her again, the mirrors on his mask flashing sparks of sunlight into her eyes. The lord of the desert will help you, but you must seek him out . . . the Uz-Dailjan. Rayn planted the suggestion carefully in her mind, covering it with a layer of warmth and good will. More than a suggestion, it was a compelling command. She would obey him.

  Dina swayed in the heat, unbalanced by a shimmer of dizziness. All she saw was two wavering spots of white flame in front of her eyes. She widened her stance.

  Damn stun, she thought. Maybe he was right. She did need to get out of the heat . . . and Jon would find her no matter where she went. She thought quickly. Maybe she could salvage something useful from this day after all. “All right. I hear that the Desert Dailjan have a camp near here. I assume you’re one of them. Take me there. I wish to speak to the Uz-Dailjan.”

  “And what makes you think you’ll be safer with him than with me?”

  “You’re a dens. I’d be safer with anyone than with you.” As soon as she said it, she was sorry. She did owe her life to him, but it was too late to take it back now.

  He sat motionless for a moment, staring at her with the mask’s eyes. “A strange thing for someone with your powers to say,” he said in a neutral voice.

  Dina’s voice rose in volume. “I don’t manipulate people with my mind. I don’t destroy minds. And I don’t use my powers to commit crimes.”

  “And you’ve decided I do all of those.”

  “You’re here, on Exodus, illegally, and you’ve evaded capture for what I would imagine to be quite some time. That indicates you’ve done at least two of the three.”

  The mirrored eyes rolled like mercury away from her, and his head swiveled, as if he had heard something, but there were only the silent scars of the mines to the west and the white shimmer of the Albho Mar to the east.

  Dina sidestepped further so she wouldn’t be blinded again when next he turned his face her way.

  The white mask slowly cocked toward her, like a bird alert to danger, and was so still for a moment that she wondered if he was indeed looking at her.

  “Then you know what I can do with you now and that you would be powerless to stop me.” The voice that had poured like warm honey only a moment before seemed to chill and congeal around her.

  “I know what you can do.” Damn him. She wondered what she could do.

  Rayn stared at her, his hidden smile now as flat as the horizon over the Sea of Glass. Never could he get away from it, no matter how far he traveled. It seemed he could never outdistance the hate. It was a parasite, always clinging to him, but his control, as it had so many times in the past, drove the emotions back into the darkest recesses of his mind.

  “Do you, now,” he replied, drawing the cold words out like a dagger from a sheath.

  “Yes. And you need to know I don’t respond well to threats.”

  Rayn fought the powerful urge for quick domination and satisfaction. He was glad she couldn’t see his face. She tasked him, no doubt about it, but so much the better. When you finally submit, little girl, he thought, you will respond with a passion like none you’ve ever known. But for now, threats wouldn’t serve him.

  “No threat, Dina. Simply fact. The Uz will want to speak with you. He won’t take it kindly if I hurt you.” Once more he extended his arm out to her, the white leather fringes dancing beneath his upturned hand. His voice warmed again, and he felt his features unlock. “Get on, then. I’ll take you to him.” She would not refuse.

  DINA HESITATED, but still under the influence of the compelling command, could not resist. She eased her leg over the seat to ride behind him, ignoring his outstretched hand with the curled, upturned fingers that reminded her of a spider.

  He dropped his arm. “Put your arms around me and hold on tight. This machine wasn’t made for two.” He had turned his head to speak, but Dina was painfully aware that the gesture was superfluous. She knew she would have heard him regardless. The thought irritated her.

  Dina slid her reluctant arms around the man’s waist, hoping he was lean enough for her to interlock her hands in front of him. The thought of touching a dens repulsed her, but she was too slow. He leaned forward to power on the skimmer, and the motion pulled her against him, causing her to flatten her palms against his abdomen for balance. He retracted the parking braces and idled the machine a moment, giving her time to realize, with embarrassment, that her hands had found the narrow gap below his cooling vest and above his waistband. The thin material of his tunic did little to prevent her fingers and palms from feeling the contours of his hard muscles. Heat pressed against her palms like hot sand against bare feet. She wanted to jerk her hands away, but in that instant she felt his Voice inside her again, holding her.

  Hang on.

  As it was, the soft command was unnecessary, for as he flicked his wrist, opening the throttle and shooting the skimmer forward, she instinctively tightened her grip. She tried to focus her mind on where he was taking her, what she would say to the Uz-Dailjan, and what she would say to Jon, but the assault on her senses of the desert, the skimmer, and the man she held cut her concentration. Her thoughts unraveled again.

  He eased the skimmer back and forth through shallow, gray gulches that rose to shadowed gorges so deep and narrow they sliced the landscape like knife wounds. Dina soon lost her sense of direction in the twists and turns. The smooth rocking motion as the man banked the vehicle through the serpentine path soothed her, but did nothing to help her gather her stray thoughts.

  All she could think about was that she was flattened intimately against his back, and, in spite of the furnace blown rush of air stinging her body she could feel the heat from the man’s body radiate through the thin layers of cloth to her breasts. Beneath her hands, his muscles, for all their lean hardness, felt relaxed, as if transporting a strange woman across the desert was an everyday event for him.

  She was thankful her hood prevented her face from touching the dampened strands of dark hair that escaped the bottom of his mask-hood and clung to the base of his neck, but even through the filter of her nose vent his strange mixture of hot sweat and leather, spiced with a faint aromatic scent, filled her nostrils. The feather snapped in the rush of air in front of her, teasing her as much as the thoughts of him that taunted her mind.

  She wondered what he felt. He was a dens, she reminded herself. A ruthless manipulator. If anything, he was most likely thinking how he could turn this situation to his best advantage. She couldn’t let him take the upper hand.

  She had never met a dens before, and wondered what he looked like beneath the mask. She leaned her head back and squinted to try to view the dark ha
ir that streamed down his neck and lapped the collar of his tunic. The dens were known to have long life spans. There was no gray to the hair that she could see, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been around a long time. She imagined a craggy, timeworn face and black, glittering eyes with no soul, but the image somehow didn’t match the Voice that had permeated every crevice of her mind.

  The slowing of the skimmer nudged her back to attention. The man hovered the machine, threaded it through a narrow eye in the rock wall, then opened the throttle. The vehicle’s exhaust blew a final kiss at the Chayne Gwer range, the acceleration melded the man’s torso to hers, and the skimmer caressed the smooth dune sea before them.

  Dina turned her head away from the glare of the midday sun and beheld a shimmer of gold extending from the Chayne as far as the horizon. Unlike the Albho, or White Sea, with its many transverse dunes, this sea was as unmarred as a nude lying on a beach. Only gentle swells and distant folds relieved the citrine stillness. She tried to remember the maps she had seen of Exodus. Was this the Ghel Mar, the Sea of Glass?

  If so, she was west of the mines, further from the city than she had yet been. How far would this man take her? She shouldn’t have done this, she thought. She didn’t trust him. Yet there was no denying that he had saved her life. Why? What did he want from her?

  The direction of her questions increased her awareness of the heat from the man’s body once again. The thought of such intimate contact with a hated dens revolted her, but her body strangely seemed to feel no such revulsion. Before she could chide herself for her foolish thoughts, the skimmer slowed. The man turned them from the skirt of the dune sea back into the hidden canyons of the Chayne, and soon eased the machine to a gentle hover in a small valley sheltered by high rock formations.

  He set the skimmer down, turned it off, and set the wide braces. After a moment he spoke, his voice hardly more than a purr. “You can let go of me now.”

  Dina, embarrassed, was doubly so because she had no trouble hearing his soft whisper. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t heard, and she knew he knew it as well. She loosened her viselike grip on him and slid off the skimmer. Her feet planted firmly on the ground, she drew a deep breath. She could feel the tank top, damp with sweat, clinging uncomfortably to her, but she shivered, in spite of the heat. Forcing herself to concentrate on her situation, she shifted her focus from the dens, cast her gaze to the rocks before her, and finally saw that what first appeared to be a shadow was actually an opening in the wall.

  Several men suddenly appeared at the entrance, all dressed in a fashion similar to the one who had rescued her, and all armed. The dens motioned to the nearest Dailjan, who jogged easily toward them. Dressed in a pale gray weather suit with slate blue boots, the man was stocky in build and no taller than the dens. He stopped beside the dens, and while it was clear he waited for instructions, it was just as clear, though his face was hooded, that his full attention was on Dina. The dens spoke once again in his smooth, controlled voice.

  “This woman was trapped in one of the mines. She is under our protection and wishes to speak with the Uz. See that she has food, drink, and an opportunity to clean up. Oh, and keep an eye out for her partner, who will no doubt soon be coming to her rescue. I’m sure he’ll also want to speak with our leader.”

  The Dailjan, still looking toward Dina, nodded once. “Done,” came his voice from beneath his hood.

  The dens addressed Dina as the three stepped into the shade of the entrance, where the others waited patiently but with the wariness of soldiers. “These men will take care of you. You have nothing to fear from them.”

  Dina pulled off the hood the dens had lent her, causing her disheveled hair to fan out in all directions.

  “But wait! I need to know who you are.”

  “Gods,” breathed the Dailjan in gray and blue as another one knocked him hard on the arm, but neither Dina nor the dens looked at the others. Their attention was solidly riveted on each other.

  “I thought you wanted nothing more to do with me.”

  “I need to know your name.” She swallowed, the dryness in her mouth only too apparent. “I need to know who saved my life.”

  “I’m sure the Uz can satisfy your curiosity. If you’ll excuse me, I have matters to attend to.”

  Dina started after the dens, but the Dailjan in gray caught and held her arm, gently but securely. She felt an unexplainable loss as she watched the dens disappear into the depths of the cavern. She didn’t know who he was or what he looked like, and she certainly didn’t trust him, yet she felt a cold sensation now that he was gone. He had not been what she had expected from a dens.

  Totally ridiculous, she told herself. It was the stress of almost dying, nothing more.

  The Dailjan in gray released her arm. “Don’t you mind that one, lady. He’s just naturally high-handed. Always giving orders like he runs things around here.” The other Dailjan chuckled from beneath their hoods. “The Uz, now,” the one in gray continued, “I don’t know if you’ll like him any better. They’re two of a kind.” More laughter.

  The men led her inside to a large well-lit chamber comfortably furnished with colorful rugs, flowing ceiling-to-floor drapes, and numerous bright cushions, pillows, and blankets surrounding a long, low table. An exquisite looking woman with gleaming, ebony hair came up to Dina and the Dailjan.

  “That’s enough, you misfits. Take yourselves off, now,” she said. Facing Dina as the Dailjan reluctantly turned around, the woman spoke again in her clear, almost musical voice. “My name is Alessane Sorreano. Come with me. I’ll show you where you can clean up without all those brutes staring at you.”

  Dina followed the young woman to a small, partitioned corner of the chamber where there were water, cleansers, scents, and cloths arranged neatly on a low table. A round mirror reflected Dina’s disordered appearance back to her.

  “The water’s fine for drinking. Take your time. I’ll bring you something to cover up with before I take you to Star. He’ll have more food and drink for you.”

  “Star?” The Uz? Was the Uz indeed a mantis? A mantis called Star? Dina tried to think, but she had trouble focusing her thoughts. The young woman only smiled and turned away. Dina took a long pull of the cool water, scrubbed her face, combed her hair, and dusted off her suit. As she stepped around the heavy drape, Alessane again appeared, a clean tunic in hand.

  “Put this on and follow me. Star’s waiting.”

  Dina trailed Alessane to the entrance of an adjoining chamber which was appointed even more comfortably than the first. The furnishings ceased to be on Dina’s mind, however, when the sweep of her gaze fell on two men at the far end of the room who were conversing in tones too low for her to hear.

  It was the man of her dream.

  Dina’s sharp intake of breath nearly choked her. As if sensing her shock, the man’s head snapped up, and his eyes found hers. The corners of his mouth lifted in a slow, smug cat-grin, and Dina felt more exposed than she had in her torn tunic. A knot formed in the pit of her stomach, and as images of the erotic dream flashed through her mind, the knot sank lower. The man’s smile widened, and Dina’s chin came up before she tore her gaze away.

  She looked at the other man, finally noticing him even though he was physically more imposing than her dream partner. She canted her head. Which of the two men was the Uz-Dailjan? The taller man was powerfully built and wore his long hair pulled severely back and tied just beneath the crown of his head. The expression on his face, hard as the bulging muscles of his biceps, was a sharp contrast to the easy elan of his companion.

  Dina studied both men, trying to reconcile their appearances with what she knew about the great prophets and orators, the mantis. She frowned. The mantis relied on the power of their spoken words to influence people, and were not known to be warrior-like in appearance. Something was wrong with her assumption that the
Uz was a mantis. The larger man was clearly not a man of words, and the man with the mesmerizing eyes, who had invaded her mind on two occasions, was more likely to be . . .

  “Welcome to Sanctuary, Dina. Come in and join me.”

  . . . a dens!

  If there had been any doubt, the man’s hypnotic voice dispelled it. It was the voice of the man who had saved her life, the Voice that had violated her mind. The man before her was her savior, the dens, and the man who had visited both her conscious and unconscious mind.

  Dina crossed the chamber and halted before him. He said something under his breath to his companion, and the taller man nodded and left the chamber through a rear exit. The dens rose to meet Dina’s steady gaze.

  “You’re the dens.”

  “Very perceptive. But I expected nothing less of you,” he said, with an almost imperceptible trace of sarcasm. “Sit down.”

  “You saved my life.”

  “You keep stating the obvious. I forget my manners. Please . . . take whatever you wish.” The man motioned to a table which was laid with bread and fruit. She continued to stand.

  “Am I that much of a surprise to you? Perhaps you expected three eyes and head spikes? That is, is it not, how Glacians describe us to their children when telling horror stories?”

  Dina felt herself redden. She couldn’t bring herself to deny it, as she’d heard the portrayal herself as a small child, and couldn’t think of a polite response. Instead, she sat, and he did likewise.

  There was a quality in his voice that held her, as it had in the mine tunnel, and for a moment she couldn’t think straight. His voice was low and soft, but beneath the softness was something she couldn’t define. His Glacian was very good, with just the barest accent. Yet the accent wasn’t it.

  To avoid answering his question she helped herself to a chunk of the brown bread and slowly spread it with a sweetened fruit paste, all the while appraising the man before her. He was indeed a surprise, but one she wouldn’t admit to him. She noticed first his eyes. Far from the black she had envisioned, they were light brown, almost golden, set off by thick black lashes and brows. Next she noticed his mouth, full and sensuous, sculpted into serious lines very nearly resembling a pout.