Witch Of The Federation (Federal Histories Book 2)

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Witch Of The Federation (Federal Histories Book 2) Page 47

by Michael Anderle


  The king knew a volatile situation when he saw one, even if he didn’t understand why Temerl appeared to be trying to provoke a fight.

  He laid his hand on his security chief’s shoulder, aware that two of the humans had moved to cover him and that another of his guards had stepped into their line of fire. With quick glances at the two security teams, he spoke quietly. “Temerl, these men are doing their jobs. Perhaps we should simply ask them if we may pass.”

  The guard’s lip twitched, and he eased back slightly. “For your protection, sire.”

  He felt the king move back to give him more room, and he took another step away from Frog and Marcus, careful to keep his hand away from his weapon. His expression was one of sour disapproval when he spoke. “The king of Meligorn should not have to ask permission to go anywhere on his own world.”

  The human leader paled a little at the challenge, which brought a small stab of satisfaction. They might not hesitate to stop him from entering, but they were unlikely to prevent the king from doing so. He was counting on that, but the man still did not back down. He did swallow nervously and flick the king an uncertain glance, though. Temerl stared back, watched the truth sink in, and decided to give the humans some credit.

  Faced with possibly committing one of the biggest gaffs possible, they still refused to give way. The king, however, was puzzled at his guard’s previous statement. “Protect me from what?”

  This time, the guard glanced at him and gestured toward Stephanie’s door, mild reproof in his tone. “We still do not know if it is safe for you to be near this human, sire.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “You said nothing of this when we left—or on any occasion when we planned the ceremony. Why now? And how does antagonizing her guards help?”

  Temerl rolled his shoulders and returned his focus to Marcus. “The concern was less before she showed her powers. Now, I am not so sure if you should be near a...” He hesitated, as though searching for the right word.

  Frog snorted. “Human witch. It’s okay, we know what she is.”

  Marcus smirked. “And I’m telling you not to go in because it won’t be healthy for you to do that. It’s very simple, and if you don’t understand it, we’ll be more than happy to discuss it with the king.”

  His adversary glared at him. “So, even when you know who he is, you continue to stand in the way.”

  “He is not my King,” he pointed out. “He is the king of Meligorn and we are not sure whether or not he is a threat to Stephanie. Diplomatic incidents aside, we’re not willing to risk it.”

  “You insolent—” Temerl growled and the king cleared his throat.

  “Enough,” he ordered and looked at Brilgus. “I take it my ambassador is with her now?”

  The bodyguard nodded and straightened, easing his weight off the door.

  “And he is perfectly safe?”

  The reply was solemn. “Yes, Your Majesty or I would not be out here asking her guards what happened.”

  But the head of royal security had apparently not finished. He glared at Brilgus. “These men might not be your subjects, but he is, and subjects or not, we are all standing in your territory. It may be above the surface of your planet, but we are in a hospital you commissioned, and they have the gall—”

  The king laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. “Enough, Temerl. This is not what we do. Now, if it is safe for V’ritan, it is safe for me. These gentlemen will certainly not deny me entry when Brilgus can vouch for me.”

  He used his grip on his security chief’s shoulder to move Temerl to one side and stepped forward. His movement almost brought him into contact with the barrel of Marcus’s blaster, but the guard lowered his weapon hastily and his partner took a step back.

  As far as Frog was concerned, the royal visitor wasn’t his to deal with. The uppity security guard, on the other hand... He kept his weapon aimed at Temerl as Marcus gave the king the traditional Meligorn Royal greeting.

  Surprised, he returned it hastily, then studied the human who had bothered to learn the custom well enough to give it without error. The guard, however, was still not ready to let him pass. As he straightened, he said, “You have to understand, your Majesty, the hospital insists that only one visitor is allowed at a time. That could be circumvented and it’s not our real concern her. More importantly, I must remind you that the human we protect could be the most important being in the Federation. No disrespect intended.”

  “None taken,” he told the man. “And there are at least two other people who consider her the same. So, I agree she must be protected, but I need to see her for myself.”

  He waited expectantly as Marcus shifted his gaze to Brilgus. The ambassador’s advisor nodded and stepped aside to let him pass. When Temerl went to follow, Marcus intervened. “Only the king. We’ll stand guard out here.”

  The man snarled and tensed, and his hand dropped to his blaster.

  “Temerl,” the king murmured, and a warning laced his tones. “If it is safe for the ambassador, it is safe for me. You and the guard will wait here.”

  “Sire...” he began, but the royal was firm.

  “Those are my orders.” He inclined his head toward Marcus and the team and stepped past Brilgus into the room. As he did so, a startled shout behind him made him pause a split second before he was shoved away from the door and into Brilgus’s arms.

  Stephanie pursued the energy through the blackness. It held steady, a beacon that drew her unwaveringly back to where she belonged. Once she reached it, her senses slowed, and she became aware of her body.

  She flexed her hands slowly and slid her fingers across the sheets beneath her. They were softer than any she’d slept in on Earth, which meant she was either on the ship or on Meligorn.

  Well, there’s only one way to find out.

  Someone moved beside the bed. They shifted restlessly as though leaning forward. She opened her eyes cautiously and blinked at the bright lights above her.

  Two faces appeared above her—the ambassador’s and Lars’s. When he saw she was awake, V’ritan smiled. “There you are. It is good to finally see you wake up.”

  From the way he said it, she had the impression that hadn’t been guaranteed. She tried for a reassuring smile. “I couldn’t leave you hanging.”

  Someone snorted in the background, and her smile widened. “Or you, Lars. I can’t keep you out of trouble otherwise.”

  She was shocked at how weak her voice sounded and how frail the rest of her felt. When she recalled the warm glow that had drawn her back, she focused on the ambassador. “You gave me energy.”

  He smiled again. “I hoped it would make a difference.”

  Stephanie’s smile faded. “It did.” They were both silent for a moment, then she asked, “Am I on Meligorn?”

  “Close,” he told her and opened the viewscreen to reveal a spectacular view of one of the moons outside. “You are on the Meligorn side of Alerus, the joint human-Meligorn space station. You’ve been out for quite a while. How do you feel?”

  She pressed her lips together and tried to push herself upright. Lars came over and worked with the ambassador to help her sit, and they both tucked the blankets in around her.

  “Here,” Lars said and handed her a glass of water. V’ritan found the bed controls and raised it to support her back.

  Suddenly aware of the dryness at the back of her throat, she took small, steady sips. Her body welcomed the hydration, her fogginess eased, and she became aware of the abundance of energy around her.

  Seeing it was enough and she immediately began to draw it in, filling her tanks until she felt revitalized enough to speak. After a few more minutes, she was able to reposition herself without help.

  The ambassador took the glass from her hand and set it down on the cabinet beside the bed. “It’s like the only time we see each other is when you’re hurt.”

  She opened her mouth to protest but realized he was mostly right. She shrugged. “True, but at least this time, they
missed you.”

  “Yes, I am curious about that,” he told her. “How exactly did you come to be me?”

  Stephanie was almost ready to show him, but Lars intervened.

  “Use your words, Steph. Don’t make me come over there.”

  “Like you’re not already?” She smirked and he gave an exasperated sigh from beside the bed.

  “Do you see what I have to put up with?”

  The Meligornian chuckled. “Words would be best. I don’t want to wait another two weeks for you to wake up.”

  Stephanie had just taken a breath to explain when the door opened and Marcus shouted in alarm. Both her companions pivoted, and Lars drew his blaster. The ambassador’s hands arced with magic.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Temerl did not hesitate. He drew his blaster with one hand and used his magic with the other to sweep the king and Brilgus from his path. Ignoring the King’s startled cry, he released the magic in a wave at the guards who stumbled back from the force of it.

  With the path to the door clear, he leapt forward and raised his blaster in readiness. Behind him, one of the guards shouted a warning.

  “Incoming!”

  Inside the room, Stephanie had already responded. She focused on the door as she continued to pull the magical energy in, stored the MU, and pushed any gMU into an internal vortex to concentrate it.

  The first thing she saw at the entrance was the muzzle of the intruder’s blaster. He turned as he saw them and aimed at the ambassador. She and Lars reacted at the same moment.

  He fired three quick shots, and she used one hand to direct MU toward the ambassador and push him to one side. With the other, she hurled an assault at the intruder with such force that he was flung back through the door and into the wall opposite.

  The sound of bone cracking echoed, and the assassin uttered a short, sharp cry of pain. But before she could ready another attack, someone else was shoved through the door. Breathing hard, she gathered more magic but let it dissipate when two of her guards bolted in after the newcomer and kicked the door closed behind them.

  One of them reached out to the man who’d been pushed through in front of them.

  “Your Majesty,” Avery said as he helped the newcomer regain his feet and virtually dragged him to one side of the door. “I must apologize.”

  Marcus had stepped aside as Temerl was thrown past them out of the room and he now turned to kick the blaster from the guard’s hand while Brilgus shoved the king inside. The ambassador’s advisor joined Marcus, seized the assailant, and hurled him to the floor.

  He held him down and secured the royal guard’s hands and feet, then helped Marcus and Frog search him. They found the two extra weapons he had hung on a utility belt hidden beneath his robes.

  “The man came prepared,” Frog said as he removed a grenade from a small pouch strapped to the outside of Temerl’s thigh.

  When he saw it, Marcus let out a low whistle. “He wasn’t coming out alive from that.”

  “No one was, but that is a wish we can grant—for him at least,” Brilgus told him, his face somber.

  “You don’t understand,” the man protested. “They must both die. Their survival will cost millions of lives. Let me finish—”

  The ambassador’s man didn’t let him finish and simply punched him hard in the face.

  As their prisoner slumped, unconscious, he let him drop to the floor. “I’ll search him again,” he said. “Just to be sure.”

  When he was done, he stood and stared at the Meligornian’s limp body. He noticed the purple blood staining Temerl’s robes and the faint swirl of energy that seeped from his fingers and swore. “A dead traitor tells us nothing.”

  Raising his head, he bellowed, “Nurse!”

  He was about to call again when an argument erupted inside Stephanie’s room. The door was flung open and the ambassador stormed out, his eyes aflame with anger.

  Marcus and Frog guessed his intent and moved to intercept him, but he swept them aside with a swipe of his hand. The magical push sprawled them several feet away.

  Brilgus stepped into his path and put his hand sternly on the Meligornian’s shoulder. “I know your anger is deep and your need for revenge is wide, but this is the highest-level insurrectionist we’ve located. Don’t kill him…yet.”

  The anger in V’ritan’s eyes softened slightly and he looked at his loyal advisor. He laid his hand over his companion’s and nodded to acknowledge the point.

  They moved to the side as staff barreled down the hallway and a stretcher followed in their wake. The head nurse glared at all of them as she approached.

  She was definitely not happy with them, but she couldn’t exactly tell them to leave—especially not with the king and ambassador in attendance.

  Instead, she turned to V’ritan for instruction as her staff began to triage Temerl’s injuries.

  “This is the head of the Royal Guard,” she began. “What happened? Is the king okay?”

  The ambassador glared at her. “The king is fine, and this is no longer the head of the Royal Guard, but a traitor and assassin. Make sure he doesn’t die. As for his comfort? Don’t waste any time on it.”

  The woman froze and her face revealed that she’d understood the information. She stared at him for a moment and then at Temerl, now was surrounded by her nurses who worked hard to save his life.

  Meligornians were known for their kind hearts and giving nature, but when it came to those who went against the people, they could be ruthless. She understood this.

  It didn’t make her happy, but she could deal with it.

  Inside Stephanie’s room, Lars studied the royal visitor.

  “Are you all right, Your Majesty?” Avery asked and examined him nervously. “I apologize for the rough handling, but your men couldn’t reach you in time and we wanted to get you to safety.”

  The king shook his head. “I am fine and I understand. You have yet again come to the aid of Meligorn, and I thank you.”

  He turned to speak to Stephanie and stared when he caught sight of her.

  She sat on the edge of the bed. Sparks of energy flashed around her, her lips pressed firmly together and a far-away look in her pitch-black eyes. Lars caught the king’s gaze and followed it back to his charge.

  “Well, damn,” he murmured when he realized that she was on the edge of going full Morgana on them. “What the hell’s the safe word… Todd!” he shouted and ran across the room. “Todd.”

  He knelt in front of her and placed one hand on her shoulder. Positioned carefully so he could block her view of the doorway, he lifted her chin with the curled forefinger of his other hand so she would look at him and not toward the door.

  “Hey, Steph, look at me. Just look,” he urged. “It’s okay. We are all okay. The ambassador is fine. You got the assassin.” He glanced toward the door. “You got him and Brilgus disarmed him. They’re taking him away now. Everything’s okay. Come back, Steph. Brilgus will see to him.”

  He went silent and studied her face while he waited for his words to take effect. Lars had almost given up when she blinked her eyes slowly and the black faded to blue.

  They both exhaled at the same time, and Stephanie teetered on the edge of the bed. He stood quickly, slid his arm around her shoulders, and helped back onto the bed.

  As he settled her beneath the covers, Avery took the bed controls and lowered it so she could rest. He watched as the team leader pulled the blankets up to her shoulders and moved a strand of silver hair gently from her face.

  She sighed and twisted her hand over the edge of the blanket. Her gaze shifted to meet his. “Can’t a girl get any rest without some asshats trying to kill her friends?”

  Lars chuckled, glad to see she could try humor after what had happened. It had been the first time she’d woken since she’d collapsed on the ship, and for this to have happened...even the thought made him angry

  He smiled when she yawned and covered her mouth, turned onto her side, a
nd mumbled, “I’m so tired. The magic takes me down every time.”

  “Go to sleep then.” He patted her shoulder through the blanket. “We’re all here and no one will go anywhere. You will be safe.”

  Stephanie frowned as her eyes closed. “But will you?”

  With an even bigger smile, he stood, tucked the blankets in, and walked over to the king, who stared at her in wonder. “Has she done that before?”

  Lars nodded. She curled up and drifted into a dreamless sleep as if Morgana had only been a figment of his imagination. “Yes. It’s what saves people. But she hasn’t fully learned to control it. When someone she loves is in danger, she has no power over it. Protecting them is all she can think of.”

  Hours later, Stephanie slid her feet under the sheets and consciousness brought the sense of other people in her room. Not yet ready to face the world, she kept her eyes closed until she was fully awake.

  V’ritan’s voice sounded close to her bed. He spoke softly, his familiar tones comforting. The female voice that responded, however, caused her to tense. Its guttural tone and depth denoted only one race.

  A Dreth?

  She forced herself to relax and simply listened.

  “I had no idea that my head guard had any connections,” a third voice replied, and this time, she detected a Meligornian accent in its slightly familiar tones. She listened harder as it continued. “I would never have allowed it. You know that. I’d have had him put down in the killing fields before anyone was hurt.”

  “Luckily,” the ambassador responded, “he was the only one hurt, but how many times will we be in that situation before she is no longer here to save us?”

  It seemed obvious that the discussion was about the would-be assassin, but it was only when the third voice referred to the man as the head of the Royal Guard that she realized who it was.

 

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