by Rhonda Mason
“Ardin?” Isonde asked, trailing behind. “What’s going on?”
It was hard—damn near impossible—for Kayla to stop herself from spinning on her heel and punching Isonde flat out. It would at least take the edge off of the wave of anger she rode.
Sadly, that might make too much of a spectacle for the servants, so she followed Ardin in silence. Isonde also shut her mouth when Ardin didn’t reply.
They arrived at the office and Isonde slid into the room before Kayla could shut the door in her face.
Could I get away with throwing her out on her ass?
Kayla looked to Ardin for a hint that he wouldn’t mind, but he ignored Isonde and crossed the room to the sideboard. The office had a warm vibe to it. It was richly paneled in wood to waist height, then painted in a deep red tone that lightened and transitioned to orange, then yellow, then to white at the very top, leading to a brightly lit ceiling.
It seemed entirely too tranquil to host the storm that brewed between the three of them.
“Drink, Kayla?” he asked, without turning around.
“Please.” Kayla pulled off the hologram and dropped it into her pocket. No need for secrecy now.
Isonde arched both brows.
Catching Isonde unprepared, probably for the first time in their acquaintance, was delightfully satisfying.
Glass chinked as Ardin poured, took a good shot from his glass, and poured again. Isonde glanced sidelong at his back, not speaking. Angry words hung in the air, either screamingly unsaid or echoing from an earlier confrontation between these two. The quiet violence reverberated in the room. It was all Kayla could do to take a deep breath in the smothering atmosphere.
Ardin handed her a glass of amber fluid. The liquor matched his eyes, and the volatile fumes wafting from the glass matched the pain and anger she saw in his gaze.
He propped himself on the corner of his desk, still not looking at Isonde, which clearly upset her.
What finally pushed him too far, Isonde?
Isonde hid her annoyance behind a smile. “I’m glad you came, Kayla, I had no way to reach you. I was worried.”
For a moment Kayla was speechless, glass halfway to her mouth. She took a drink while she processed Isonde’s unending audacity.
“You’re actually going to try to bullshit me?” Kayla asked. “Now, after all you’ve done?” The thought was incredible.
“All I’ve done is—”
Isonde’s placating tone sent Kayla through the roof. “‘All you’ve done’ is ruin Malkor,” she said in a growl. “And me, though that’s less surprising.” She set her glass down on a nearby bookshelf before she threw it. “You’ve been using me from the beginning, so why not burn me to the ground if necessary. But Malkor?”
Shit. Kayla’s chest ached at the thought of such a betrayal, of how Malkor would feel when he learned of it.
Ardin stared at the liquid in his glass, swirling it, as if it had a truth to reveal.
“After all Malkor’s done for you,” Kayla said, her voice a furious tremble. “Everything he’s sacrificed. Everything I’ve sacrificed.” She curled her hands into fists, curbing the urge to do violence. “You wouldn’t be where you are without me, and you damn sure wouldn’t be within ten thousand light-years of where you are if Malkor hadn’t helped you at every step.”
Kayla shook with rage. She wanted to cut Isonde open with words, wanted her to bleed. When she spoke, her voice was low with unrealized hatred. “You were never worth a second of his time.”
“You don’t know what I’ve sacrificed,” Isonde said, as if she were misunderstood in all of this. “Everything I did, everything I do, is for—”
“Shut up.” The quiet words came from Ardin, shocking them both.
Isonde blinked. “Excuse me?”
Ardin tossed back the rest of his drink, set his glass down very precisely, and got to his feet. “I said— Shut. Up.” The command actually forced Isonde back a step.
In any other moment Kayla would have laughed to see that expression on Isonde’s face—the astonishment of a lifetime. Not now. Not when the words came from so deep inside Ardin’s private hurt that they throbbed with feeling.
Isonde opened her mouth and Ardin took one step toward her.
Holy shit, was he going to strike her?
Ardin had much better self-control than Kayla had, and stopped after only that step.
He pointed his finger at Isonde’s face. “Not another word.”
She shut her mouth with a snap, her face blanched, pale eyes huge. No doubt Ardin had never used that tone on her before, never looked at her with such anger.
“I have listened to your ‘for the good of the empire’ reasoning all my life. I’ve watched you justify every action you’ve ever taken with that same damn speech, serving it flawlessly time and again. And I am tired, Isonde.” His volume rose, filling the room with word after long-denied word. “I am so damn tired of it. Of you, hiding behind your ‘I do this for the people’ rhetoric, and crossing every line of morality, of legality… of decency.”
Ardin’s body vibrated with anger, with a fever pitch that Kayla feared would shatter him. His fury held the room spellbound, trapped them all in a tableau thirty-two years in the making. Kayla couldn’t have moved if she wanted to.
“Malkor is like a brother to me, the only brother I’ve ever had.” His lips twisted into a mockery of a smile. “I can’t say you feel the same about him, since I know about your relationship.”
Isonde swayed and reached out to steady herself on the back of a chair. “What relationship?” Her voice was whisper thin.
Kayla jumped when Ardin laughed, an ugly, wrenching sound.
“In the face of all this, you would lie to me?” he asked. “I may have been a hopeless, lovesick idiot where you are concerned, but I’m not blind. I knew when you and Malkor hooked up years ago, just as I knew that it would pass, that you’d choose me in the end.” He turned his head toward Kayla. “Ask me how I knew.”
Ardin was dangerous like this. Dangerous and glorious. He was capable of anything in this state and for the first time since meeting him, he’d earned Kayla’s full respect.
“How?” Kayla asked, unable to do other than follow where he led.
“Ambition, of course. Isonde’s ambition wouldn’t allow for anything less than the throne at my side.”
He turned a smile on Isonde that mocked her as much as it mocked him. “I told myself you’d come to love me as much as Malkor, in time. More even.” When he spoke again his voice was brutal, any trace of a smile gone from his face. “And I believed myself. The greatest of my follies.
“I believed when you spoke of our future together, told me, ‘Together, we can be a force for good.’ I wanted that.” He closed his eyes a moment. “Gods, how I wanted that.”
Isonde’s shock melted in the heat of Ardin’s words. She seemed to be gathering herself for a speech.
Ardin opened his eyes and fixed Isonde with a stare. “It was all bullshit, wasn’t it? In your heart it was you and only you from the start. From the moment we met as children.”
He rolled on when Isonde tried to interrupt.
“You care about me, sure,” he said. “We’re ‘friends.’ But you used me, like you use everyone.” Ardin paused, as if letting those words sink in to his own consciousness. Kayla held her breath, uncertain what might come next.
He nodded to himself as if a truth was finally clear. When he refocused his gaze on Isonde, his voice rang with conviction. “Malkor never asked for anything of us. Not once. You—we—abused his position as a senior IDC agent again and again, and he never once insisted on concessions for himself.
“What you did today,” he said, drawing himself straight and looking every inch the ruler he was born to be, “denouncing Malkor—the very best friend we, either of us, have ever had—when he needed our support most, is unforgivable.” The words were a decision, binding and irrevocable. A sentence levied on a criminal.
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nbsp; “Ardin, please,” Isonde said, in a placating tone, “be reasonable. If I am to retain my position of influence I have to distance myself from him. Surely you see that.”
Ardin turned away as if he couldn’t bear to look at her a moment longer. Instead he met Kayla’s gaze and spoke only to her. “I know what Malkor means to you. I am sorry for everything he has suffered at our hands.”
She respected him for owning his part in this tragedy, but regret, no matter how sincere, wouldn’t help them now. “I need more than your apology.”
Ardin nodded. “Anything, you name it. If it is within my power to give, you will have it.”
She cut a glance to Isonde.
“Leave us,” Ardin commanded without looking at Isonde, his tone unquestionable. Even Isonde couldn’t argue. She marched from the room with her head high.
The tension left with her, leaving Kayla alone with the ally she hadn’t expected, the ally she couldn’t do without.
“I need a ship,” Kayla said without preamble. “With Malkor and the octet on the official ‘enemy of the state’ list, none of them have the wherewithal to obtain a vessel capable of getting us to Wyrd Space.”
“I can do that.” The wounded soul disappeared behind the aloof mask she was used to from Ardin. “When do you need it by?”
She blinked. Somehow she hadn’t expected it would be that simple. “ASAP.” Otherwise known as, “No frutting idea, just have the damn thing ready.”
He seemed to get the silent message. “Understood. You have a plan to ‘liberate’ Malkor, I assume?”
If only. “Still working on that. Let me know as soon as you have a ship ready. Don’t bother with a captain, I know someone who could fly it.” Probably every one of the octet members were trained to pilot any number of craft. If not, she’d figure out the particulars as she went. It was imperial tech, how complex could it be?
She meant to head for the door. Instead she found herself pulling Ardin in for an awkward hug. It was stiff and uncomfortable and so what she needed that tears stung her eyes when he finally hugged her back. You were so brave today, she wanted to whisper. He wouldn’t appreciate the reminder of all the days he’d let himself be Isonde’s puppet.
She pulled back and looked at him head-on. “Thank you.” She couldn’t put enough emphasis on the words to do them justice. “From one person who loves Malkor to another.” She squeezed his arm, trying to impart all of her feelings at once. “Thank you.”
He cleared his throat and stepped away. “Better head off, now. Mind the hologram.”
Kayla pulled out the biostrip and slapped it on. She walked to the door, then looked over her shoulder at Ardin. This might be the last time she ever saw him.
He raised a hand in farewell.
When Kayla exited the office, she saw Isonde standing halfway down the hallway. No doubt she was waiting for another chance at Ardin.
She gave Kayla a cool look. “I bet you’re pretty proud of yourself,” Isonde said with faint hauteur, “turning Ardin against me.”
Kayla struggled to get a grip on her temper. The hallway was not private. Here, she was an interior decorator facing the Empress-Apparent, and a linen maid down the hall looked on with round eyes.
“Everything coming to you, Isonde, you brought on yourself,” she said in a low voice, anxious to get out of there before she blew her cover.
Isonde scoffed. She straightened her shoulders, squaring herself to Kayla. “If you knew anything about—”
“You know what I know?” Kayla interrupted, on the balls of her feet now. She looked down the hall—empty, the maid had fled.
Isonde arched one imperious brow and it was all Kayla needed. She took a double step to gain momentum and kicked the bitch square in the solar plexus with a heel kick that could have broken concrete. The sole of her boot sent Isonde staggering into the wall. Isonde rebounded and dropped to her knees, retching.
Kayla knelt beside her while Isonde gasped and choked, braced on all fours. “That’s how Malkor’s going to feel when he hears how you’ve betrayed him.”
Isonde’s coughing, the helpless spittle dripping down her chin, and the green tinge of her skin gave Kayla a rush of satisfaction.
A male servant appeared in the hallway in response to Isonde’s pitiful hacking noises. Kayla offered him an innocent smile while Isonde gripped her stomach.
“The princess is coming down with something. Could you help her into the bed she made? I think it’s best she lie in it, now.”
Kayla sauntered down the hall, humming a ro’haar training song.
29
THE YARI, MINE FIELD
Vayne stood at the windows on the smaller observation deck of the Yari, studying the tear in space. It fluctuated and twinkled, blinding in its radiance and impossibility, offering escape from the Middle of Nowhere.
Except escape to his besieged homeworld was no escape at all. The Tear’s promise mocked him.
Benny and Tanet sat down a ways in the comfortable chairs that had been dragged to this deck. Farther back in the room, Noar sat on the hard benches with Luliana and Joffar, taking a rare break from working on the hyperstream engine. The three Ilmenans quietly discussed when Ilmena might be able to send another fuel ship to them. Tia’tan had contacted Ilmena with the request, giving them the same coordinates Vayne had given Kayla. Coordinates they’d figured out when the last sensor reached the edge of the Mine Field and could translate its location back to the others, measuring the distance between them until the Middle of Nowhere’s actual position was fixed.
Foolish to request a ship from Ilmena now, considering they hadn’t even proved Corinth, Tanet and Noar’s theory yet, that taking a hyperstream straight into the heart of the Mine Field would avoid disruption.
Tia’tan stood beside Vayne at the glass, ignoring her fellows. Instead of looking at the Tear, her gaze traveled farther, to the curve of the Mine Field debris that ringed them. She concentrated as if summoning something from the wreckage.
The Radiant, no doubt.
No one had mentioned the ship in the last week, the unspoken consensus being that it had been destroyed. Hard to argue any other outcome considering how long it had been missing.
Vayne glanced at Tia’tan’s solemn profile.
The unexpected urge to offer her comfort caught him off guard. How long had it been since he’d worried about anyone’s pain besides his own? He looked at her again. She was worlds away. The right words wouldn’t come to him, and he’d just be interrupting her. He could only offer her privacy, and the silence of one who knew that sometimes, nothing could make it right.
::I’ve finally pulled Gintoc away from the engine room.:: Corinth’s mind voice halted the downward spiral of Vayne’s mood. ::We’re coming to the observation deck. Gintoc says, ‘View most impossible is restful,’ or something like that, so I think he wants to watch the Tear for a while.::
Sleep would be better, but it sometimes seemed as if the crew never slept. As if they feared that if they closed their eyes for one moment, they would never wake again.
Besides, building a makeshift hyperstream drive from castoff parts was pure insanity. Why not have a slightly off-center, sleep-deprived engineer working on it at all hours?
Corinth entered first, his face alight with excitement. ::You’ll never guess what we figured out.:: Everyone in the gallery straightened with interest when he spoke. Corinth latched onto the engineer’s wrist and pulled him forward when the man froze in the doorway.
::Gintoc will tell you. Noar! We were looking at that coolant siphoning system all wrong.::
Vayne’s eyes remained on Gintoc, unmoving in the doorway. Gintoc’s gaze swept over everyone. The engineer was an odd one, to be sure. Taciturn didn’t begin to cover it, though he seemed to get along well enough with the few people who could speak the language of his beloved engines.
Now, Gintoc’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Not to rest with the enemy.” His gaze turned cold, suspicious.
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nbsp; Benny called to him from the other end of the room. “You never like the new Ida bring.” He smiled and waved him over. “They are not so new now. Come. Have a sit.”
Gintoc shook his head. “Princess Natali is where? She knows the enemy.”
True enough. Natali’s world seemed blocked out into two categories: “on her side,” or “needs to be defeated.”
::Come on.:: Corinth tugged at his sleeve. Gintoc held firm, glaring first at Tia’tan where she stood with Vayne, then at the gathered Ilmenans.
“Pah.” Gintoc made a sound of disgust and spat on the floor. He wrenched his arm from Corinth’s grasp and left.
Tanet finally broke the awkward silence. “Is solitary, is all. Gintoc likes very few, isn’t to worry.”
“Overtired,” Benny said, and both crewmembers seemed to agree with that assessment.
Corinth shrugged. ::I’ll check on him, Vayne. See you.:: Then he was gone as well.
The confrontation was typical of any interaction Vayne had with the engineer, but the fact that he asked for Natali, saw her as an ally even though she didn’t know a thing about engines, stuck in Vayne’s mind.
The sooner Kayla got here, the better—for all involved.
ORDOCH
Midnight, Cinni thought, or close to it. Down here in the bowels of the rebel base it was impossible to tell.
She stood in the corridor outside the makeshift infirmary. Weak lighting set the hallway in perpetual twilight, and the smell of dust and damp concrete permeated the air. Through the square window set in the infirmary door she saw Aarush’s prone body. He lay still as death, the blue sheet covering him looking more like a shroud than bedding, and she shivered with premonition.
Stupid, really. An amputated foot, massive burns and an eye that may or may not recover from shrapnel wounds didn’t kill someone. To her, though, it felt as though he’d already died. The image she always had of him, utterly competent, quietly commanding, a rebel star on the rise, was forever shattered. The man she loved was gone.
