Citadels of Darkover

by Deborah J. Ross

  We landed on the water, skipping across the surface like a stone. Each bounce threw us across the deck. Pain burst in my head and neck as I slammed against the base of a chair.

  Then we hit land, and skidded. There came a horrid screeching of stone tearing through metal as easily as scissors through cloth. I had just enough time to glance up and see a cliff face coming inevitably nearer—and the captain lying too close to the ship’s nose.

  I dove for her, shoving her out of the way just as we collided with a wall of stone. The ship crumpled, squeezing together like an accordion.

  I must have blacked out. When I came to, the air was filled with dust and smoke. Captain Maeda was sitting by me, lightly slapping my face with one hand. She held one arm against her chest, and from the angle I could tell it was broken. “Ethan? Ethan, stay with me. The medics will be here soon.”

  I didn’t know why she sounded so worried. I was fine. At least I thought so, until I tried to move and couldn’t. The lower half of my body was trapped beneath a twist of metal and stone.

  “Ethan? Look at me. You keep looking right here.”

  So I looked, too afraid to see the rest of the deck. There were no other voices, no sounds save for the ocean now audible through the ruined walls. They were dead, then. All dead, save for the Captain and I.

  We’d ended up trapped on some rocky outcrop out in the ocean and far enough from the populated areas that it took the emergency crews more than an hour to reach us and longer still to send the heavy lifting equipment needed to extricate me. And broken arm and concussion or not, Captain Maeda refused to leave until I was free.

  But whatever the medics dosed me with didn’t kick in fast enough. They pried apart twisted metal and slid me free.

  That’s when I saw my legs.

  Or rather, what was left of them. Little more than mangled flesh and splintered bone. Until that moment, there hadn’t been any pain. Adrenaline, the doctors had told me. Shock. But days after the accident, the image stayed with me. So did the pain even when the doctors did the amputations: a terrible, burning agony that spread through my whole body and—

  “Ethan. Wake up. You’re safe.”

  I struggled to open my eyes, but even when I did all I saw was twisted metal and lifeless bodies. My legs felt as if they were on fire and it was all I could do not to scream.

  “Look at me, Ethan. Just focus on me.”

  Look at me. But it wasn’t the Captain, this time; it was Kieran, and I couldn’t understand why he would be in the middle of a wreck all the way out on Vainwal.

  “Good. There you are. Keep looking right at me.”

  There was an edge to his voice that startled me into doing as he asked. Then he did something strange; he held his hand a few inches above my body and moved it slowly back and forth. There was something in his other hand. A stone? There were strange, sparkling lights in it that made me dizzy.

  “Don’t look at the starstone. It will make you sick.”

  “The...what?”

  “It’s called a starstone.” His voice was distant, as though he was only partially listening to me. Elorie was off to the side, watching us, but she, too, seemed withdrawn and far away.

  I...drifted. It was the only explanation for the strange, floating sensation. There was an odd tingling sensation that wore away at my fear the way ocean waves sculpt a beach. Through it all came a faint, strange tune, one so foreign I could put a name to neither melody nor rhythm, yet it was soothing all the same.

  “Ethan?”

  This time, when he said my name, it brought me back to myself—no terrible memories overlaying reality, and no more awful burning throughout my nonexistent limbs. I let out a long, relieved breath and sank back into the pillows. “Is that—what do you call it—laran?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that how you knew I...?”

  “Was having a nightmare? Yes. Everyone here could sense it.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It happens. No one is angry. We’re all telepaths here, so there is no hiding what we feel from each other.”

  “So everyone here saw...felt what I...oh, God.” It made me feel suddenly, terribly naked, worse than taking off my legs and being obviously vulnerable. All the terrible things I’d been through, all my anger and grief laid out for all to see.

  And all the pain...

  “There is no shame in your feelings, however uncomfortable.” He wrapped his strange stone in a bit of silk and tucked it away in a pouch that hung from his neck.

  “What is that for?”

  “It’s a crystal that allows me to focus so I can monitor problems within a body and properly adjust the energy channels. Yours had not adjusted to the loss of your limbs; that’s why your brain kept trying to send signals where there was nothing to receive. Another session or two wouldn’t hurt—”

  “I can help with that,” Elorie put in.

  “—but the pain should be much less frequent.”

  “Thank you.” I hardly knew what else to say.“Both of you. I’m grateful. You have no idea. The Terran doctors don’t have anything so effective.”

  “You’re welcome. Now I will leave you to rest. Your body needs time to adjust.”

  I watched him, the way he moved, the kindness he emanated. “You’re beautiful.”

  The words dropped before I had a chance to catch them, and to my shame, he stiffened. Elorie let out a little gasp.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  For the first time, his voice held an uncomfortable edge. “You are an off-worlder. There are things you do not understand about Darkover, about those who inhabit it.”

  “Then teach me.”

  There was his sad, heartbreaking smile. “Darkover is no place for you. Go home, Terran. What you seek does not lie here.”

  “And what do I seek?” All these mysteries frustrated me no end. “You can heal with this mind-magic of yours. Do you read minds too?”

  “You long for beauty, and you think you have found it in me. I am not the means to your end, Terran. I cannot be.”

  And with that, he let himself out.

  ~o0o~

  In the morning, it was not Kieran who brought me a tray for breakfast, but Elorie, and I couldn’t help but notice that she was cooler toward me than she’d been last night. “I’m sorry.” I was beginning to feel like an audio file on repeat. “I meant no offense, especially to Kieran. There’s so much I don’t understand.”

  She softened at that. “I know, Ethan. Please understand, it’s difficult for us, too, but maybe I can help.” She seated herself in the chair next to my bed and looked at me earnestly. “Ask what you need. I know you have questions, and I don’t think they’re about me.”

  She was right, but since she offered I figured it was best to simply ask. “May I ask why he is different?”

  “Kieran? One of his parents was a chieri, which is a very ancient and respected race here on Darkover. He’s far older than he looks. Legend says that’s how laran came into our lines, because our ancestors lay with the chieri. Like them, he is also emmasca. Do you know what that means?”

  Not specifically, but I could hazard a guess. “Emasculated? Male, but without...?”

  “The preferred term is neuter. Between genders. It’s necessary for him as a Keeper because of the way he uses energy. He’s partially human, but the part of him that isn’t can react strongly to someone he’s attuned to emotionally. When that happens, he can shift to either male or female—a process that can take hours, and which causes emotional instability. Some liken the effect to madness. So I beg you—please be careful in your approach toward him. He cares for you, but we—his circle—need him to help us in our work and can’t allow him great distractions.”

  So that was why they’d reacted so poorly; I presented a danger, despite my best intentions. “I will be more careful in the future. No more distractions. I promise.”

  “You play wonderfully though,” she said, and grinned. “You
made him happy last night, and we thank you for that.”

  I hadn’t ruined everything, at least. “That’s why he has guards, isn’t it? To protect him from the crowds?” Again I felt sympathetic toward Kieran, who was stared at and followed wherever he went. I knew the feeling.

  Elorie nodded. “Would you like me to work on your legs a little more?”

  “Yes, please.” They were already itchy, which was an improvement over the burning, but still an annoyance, and I’m sure she was as eager as me to try the treatment.

  She’d just finished when the hawk-faced woman rushed in. “Messire, Dom Ridenow requests to see you in his suite. Immediately.”

  From her face, I knew it was urgent. Something had happened to the captain; there was no other reason he’d send for me like this.

  Elorie hurriedly helped me to get dressed and mobile then guided me to the Ridenow wing. Her face was sympathetic as she left me in the sitting room, where Dom Ridenow strode in.

  “Ethan.”

  I barely knew the man, but I knew the tone; it was the same the Terran doctors had used when they’d told me my legs couldn’t be saved, or that they weren’t going to try any further treatments. The captain had used it too, when she’d told me we were the only survivors. I couldn’t speak; all I could do was sit there, waiting with a sudden, terrible dread.

  “Your captain...Noriko...”

  It had been so long since I’d heard anyone call her by her first name. He’d cared for her. They’d been friends.

  “Her room was empty when I rose this morning. The Terrans said she hadn’t been back, so I sent the guards to search. They found her buried in the snow at the base of one of the walls. She fell from one of the balconies.”

  He was watching me. Gauging me with that eerie sixth sense he had. I recognized the look now that I’d spent time with Kieran and his friends. “Where is she now?”

  “We called the Terrans. They came to fetch her body.”

  It sunk in, then, what he was trying to tell me. My captain had left me alone on a strange world I didn’t understand and certainly didn’t fit in. “She fell?”

  “We don’t know. No one else was up there with her. It’s possible she went out for some air and slipped on some ice.”

  Possible. But why would she venture outside, alone, during a blizzard? The captain never did anything without reason—even if that reason was too awful to contemplate. “You were her friend. Why didn’t you stop her?”

  “I didn’t know.”

  It was his earnestness that broke me. “You’re a damn telepath. How could you not know?”

  “I’m only an empath, and not a terribly strong one. I didn’t pry. Whatever I sensed from her was on the surface, and there was no hint of...” He went silent, but from the creases in his face I knew he was in at least as much pain as I was. Irrationally, it made me want to twist my verbal knife deeper.

  “You should have done something. She was your guest. You were supposed to look after her!” If only because she hadn’t allowed me to do it myself—because I’d failed her, too.

  His face tightened. He could sense my anger. I was hurting him.

  I wanted him to hurt.

  “Ethan.”

  I left him there and stumbled blindly through the corridors. He’d been right; this place was a maze. I didn’t care. I went left and right and left again, passing carved doors, stone archways. I fell more than once, scraping fingers against the stone walls as I righted myself on shaking legs.

  I kept walking anyway. My stumps throbbed inside their manufactured prisons. The pain only made me angrier and gave me the strength to keep walking.

  A blast of cold air hit me as I found my way outside onto a large balcony deep with snowdrifts. The doctors had warned me about the limits for my legs. The electronics didn’t deal well in extreme temperatures. Wandering around in knee-high snow in frigid air wasn’t advisable, and I could already tell the servos were slowing down. Each step was harder and slower than the last.

  I plowed forward, heedless of the danger. I had to get to the edge—and when I got there, I saw just how far the drop was. Not enough to make me dizzy, but plenty far enough to cause considerable damage—or worse—should someone go over the edge. The wall was relatively low. It would take much for a man—even a crippled one—to climb over.

  “Ethan.”

  It wasn’t Dom Ridenow. “Leave me alone.” I was too angry, too upset for anyone with that damned mind-magic to be near me, and from what Elorie said, I shouldn’t be near Kieran at all.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Kieran draped a heavy, fur-lined cloak around my shoulders. “Come in. You’ll freeze to death.”

  An image of my captain doing just that flashed into my mind. It wasn’t hard to imagine her crumpled and broken, all warmth and life draining away. I was the last one from our crew left alive, and I didn’t know why. “I shouldn’t be here.”

  Kieran kept a firm grip on my arms. “She brought you to Darkover for a reason.”

  That wasn’t what I’d meant. Not entirely. I didn’t know why he’d care, not when I’d been such a distraction.

  “Don’t worry about that now. I care, Ethan. So do Elorie and Dom Ridenow.”

  I glanced back toward the door. There was the Comyn lord along with Kieran’s two bodyguards, keeping a respectable distance. Elorie was there too, wrapped in a cloak of dark blue. She took a couple steps forward but stopped when I flinched. “You should go back to your tower. Both of you.” I just wanted him to leave me alone so I didn’t end up hurting him, too.

  He gave a little sigh of exasperation. “Can you walk?”

  Experimentally, I shifted. The reaction was sluggish, but the leg behaved.

  Two steps later, it froze completely, and I stood there, tears rimming my eyes, more frustrated and angry and helpless than I’d been when I’d been trapped on the ship. I couldn’t move. The red sun gave off such a strange light that I couldn’t think, and it was so damnably cold on this planet.

  I howled. I didn’t care who was listening, or if the whole damned castle had people staring out the windows. The sound was so loud that it bounced off the stone walls and sent a terrible echo around the balcony.

  I couldn’t even collapse into the snow like I wanted to because my damned legs wouldn’t cooperate. My tears were freezing to my cheeks; I hadn’t cried since the accident. I’d done my best to be strong for the captain, to be what she’d needed me to be.

  And in the end, it hadn’t been enough.

  Then came the gentlest of touches to my mind. I felt...a word? A feeling? Something, floating in my mind: Grieve.

  I was no telepath. I’d never shown the barest hint of being able to sense anything out of the ordinary. And yet I felt them, all three of them, male, female, and—what was Kieran?

  And there, at last, I found the beauty I’d been longing for in the joining of emotions—in the sheer need to understand one another and to know that I was not the only one in such deep, desperate pain.

  I knew now why the captain had liked Dom Ridenow. He was an honorable man, a trait that ran strongly through Darkovan society, but especially within him. Neither was he afraid of his own emotions or anyone else’s, although too many could overwhelm him, and he knew the trials of duty and the rare moments of pleasure. He, too, grieved, because he’d failed to save a friend, and in doing so caused another man despair.

  Kieran was the strongest and strangest; again I heard that strange, unearthly tune. And for the first time, he let me sense his own loneliness, his own uneasiness at being the odd one out and having to learn new, different ways of living amongst those fully human. He was known for his dancing, and had brought that from his non-human kin, but it had been so long since he’d danced of his own accord, and not out of some formal obligation. I’d given him that, at least, though it was little enough to repay him for his own kindnesses toward me.

  And Elorie...she was the warmth, the love and support we all craved and
needed, and we drank it up like fine wine. She gave of herself freely, finding her own joy in being of service.

  The rapport ended slowly, carefully. Kieran held me, and I was no longer cold. Neither was my grief so crippling that it drove me to madness.

  “Learn to walk on your own,” he told me when I gazed, stunned, into his silver-gray eyes. “Then I’ll teach you to dance.”

  All I could do was nod, giddy with the knowledge that I wasn’t alone.

  Not anymore.

  ~o0o~

  The Terrans came for me. Had I been more coherent I would have objected, but after losing one officer I think the Darkovans were afraid of more interplanetary difficulties should they lose another, so they handed me over.

  The Terran doctors wouldn’t let me wear my legs until the abscesses healed, so I was stuck wheeling myself around in the hated chair. This wouldn’t have worked inside Comyn Castle, but I missed it all the same. At least there I’d been an outsider among outsiders and not feeling like an outcast among my own kind. The Spaceport was too clean and sterile, and the Terran lights, yellow instead of the red of the Darkovan sun, burned my eyes.

  It took two days before I could bring myself to enter the captain’s quarters. She’d left what remained of her possessions to me, save for a couple trinkets she’d wished Dom Ridenow to have. Many of her captain’s logs were still restricted, and given access only to the Service command, but in her will were the passwords to the private entries in her tablet.

  I made myself comfortable on her bed and watched as many as I could. There were things she hadn’t told me, like the numerous counselors she’d seen after the accident and the antidepressants she’d been prescribed but refused to take. Dom Ridenow was her one link to happiness, during the times she’d enjoyed herself on Vainwal. She’d loved the atmosphere, everything from gravity dancing to walks through the lush surroundings to lying on the beach listening to the waves. She’d needed pleasure, and he’d been happy to be her companion.

  But I’d only guessed the edge of her pain. Losing colleagues paled in comparison to losing those under her command along with an entire ship. Our superiors hadn’t blamed her; it was a freak accident. Nothing she could have done. Yet she poured out her grief in those entries, and as the days went on, I saw her spiral farther and farther down.