Merrie Dawn

by Chris

  Merrie Dawn leaned forward and briefly kissed him on the lips. "I don't know. Just keep your promise. You can tell your wife, but only so long as she promises to keep the secret, and you don't tell her about me. Leave by the front entrance. You'll find your Federation jacket there. I sent someone out to pick it up."

  He left the room, his new awareness spreading out before him. Once downstairs he could sense the street outside. Narrenden was there. It took only a moment to understand why.

  Terrence had been used. They were after Merrie Dawn. Some friend.

  He searched the building with his mind, but Merrie Dawn, or whoever she really was, had left already. His biogerm senses found several other exits and two passageways underground. She could have left by any of them. To do the same, however, would risk exposing his own knowledge.

  His mind caught several people entering through the rear entrance. They kept out of general sight and spread out, two heading for Merrie Dawn's chamber, two more to the building's comsystem.

  He smiled. Merrie Dawn wouldn't have left any records of their encounter on file. He doubted she'd have even taken any with her, either.

  He picked up his jacket and left by the front entrance, as expected. He crossed the street, head down, pretending he didn't see Narrenden.

  It took only a few metres before his 'friend' caught up.

  "Terrence! Wait!"

  Terrence turned, pretending surprise. "What are you doing here?"

  "Thought you could use a lift. My transport's just here."

  They stopped before an official Federation vehicle. The windows were one-way, but he could see two people in the rear seats. He made sure his eyes never looked directly at either as they stopped before the door.

  He smiled. "A lift would be great. Thanks."

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the biogerm shots.

  "Hey, look at this. I found the empath – she grilled me all night and even had me pull my file. Talk about nervous, though I can't say I blame her. Still, she refused to come to the hospital, but she did give me these. She claimed they're a cure."

  Narrenden took them. "Med-shots? Best get them analysed. Could be anything in them." He pocketed them. "I'll let you know by midday. Don't count on anything though."

  He slapped Terrence on the back. "Hop in. Got a couple of friends in the rear – needed a lift to the lab. I'll introduce you on the way. We swung by on the chance we might cross paths. They're good guys. They promised not to say anything about the whorehouse."

  Terrence had no trouble faking relief. "I appreciate that."

  On the flight to the lab Narrenden joked about the possible sexual exploitations Terrence may have had during the night, attempting to draw out a confession.

  Terrence laughed at the last one. "Well buddy, that would make it ten last night. Even you're not that good. Or are you?"

  Narrenden chuckled. "Maybe."

  Terrence closed his eyes, feigning tiredness. He relaxed his senses, felt for an impression of Narrenden's mind as opposed to the two men in the back, then sifted through the man's surface thoughts. Strangely enough, Narrenden really did regard Terrence as a friend.

  The image of a pinhead camera on Terrence's jacket abruptly crossed Narrenden's mind. The bastard! Some friend. Luckily Terrence had left the jacket outside the Relaxation Chamber.

  They landed outside the lab. "Well," Narrenden said, "Looks like we'll have to keep searching for an empath to help your daughter." He gripped Terrence's shoulder, squeezing. "Don't worry, she's a strong girl. With any luck, she'll go into remission. I've seen it before. And those new antivirals will be out soon."

  Terrence nodded, looking Narrenden in the eye. He tried to express the infinite hope only a parent could hold.

  "Thanks. I'm sure she'll be fine. You know, I swear there was more colour in her face last night. Maybe the last dose of treatment is finally kicking in."

  Narrenden nodded dismissively. "I've got some business to take care of, but I'll see you in the lab this afternoon." He paused, showing concern. "Hey, why don't you take some some time off and visit your wife and daughter this morning? You look tired."

  The transport floated away.

  In the office, Terrence did a few hours' work, and then took Narrenden's advice and headed to the hospital. As he walked through the front entrance he slipped a hand into his jacket pocket for reassurance. A new jacket.

  His pockets were filled with medshots of both gold and silver biogerm, filched from the stores kept for animal experimentation.

  A lot of people were going to go into 'remission' today to hide his daughter's unexpected recovery.

  It was the only way he could think of to draw attention away from her.

  That was today's problem.

  Tomorrow he had to work out how to contaminate medical supplies with biogerm.

  Perhaps in the next few months he would apply for a transfer. He'd heard Production had some openings.

  Research, after all, no longer held his interest.

  Thank you for reading.

  Copyright © 2014 by Chris Andrews

  All Rights Reserved

  No reproduction without permission.

  This short story is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places and incidents are a product

  of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to people

  living or dead, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Art by Chris Andrews.

  http://ChrisAndrewsAU.com/

  An introduction to:

  Divine Prey

  The Noramgaell Saga Book 1

  By Chris Andrews

  Chapter 1

  Three millennia, seven centuries,

  and seventy-one years after the Seism.

  The Season of New Life.

  Prime Year of the Divine Lady Marnier du Shae,

  Mistress of Healing, Goddess of Purpose.

  Caroline stretched, ignoring the abbey's dawn bells for the first time in half a year. Although grateful to the Divine Servants for their care and discretion, she'd never had any desire to enter their ranks. Even so, her stomach knotted at the thought of returning home today. The Divine Servants were experts at healing bodies, but did not console hearts well. She needed friends for that, not religion, yet her friends could never know her shame.

  Daughter, join with me.

  Caroline stiffened and sat up, hoping she'd failed to notice someone enter her room. She gasped as warm light filled her, bringing with it a desperate need to join with divinity. She cried aloud, her fingers clutching the sheets as she broke out in a sweat. She couldn't breathe and didn't want to.

  As divine light settled into her flesh she collapsed to the bed, every muscle aching and her skin coated with perspiration.

  "My Lady, please don't ask this of me," she gasped despite wishing to feel the Goddess's light rush through her again. She lifted her bare arms. The outline of a luminous bell-shaped alimoth flower marked each wrist like an artist's sketch ready to be filled in. The flowers were the symbol of Marnier du Shae, Goddess of Healing. "I beg you," she whispered. "I didn't engineer this deception in your house. Please take your light back."

  What else could it be but a punishment for her temerity? She'd come to the abbey under the guise of piety to hide an unexpected pregnancy and childbirth, and now she'd been marked as if she had truly sought Divine Service.

  "Please," she whispered again, unable to take her eyes from the luminous markings. "Your abbey…" Was what? A convenience? She'd even lied to her best friends. If Caroline denied the Lady of Healing now she'd be denied the Higher Realm's graces her entire life. Yet if she accepted, the outlines would fill in and she'd be bound to serve the Goddess forever.

  A blessing to anyone else, she couldn't imagine a worse rebuke, not even death. The luminous outlines were a punishment almost as harsh as the loss of her child. Fortunately, the King's Guard had arriv
ed with orders to return her to Fandelyon City. She could be mounted and out the gates before a Divine Servant noticed her markings and forced her to confront her calling.

  Her hands trembling, she threw her heavy covers aside. The cold hardwood floor felt smooth under her bare feet. She removed her yellow nightgown, pulled on her warm grey riding dress and boots and threw her royal-blue travel cloak around her shoulders.

  Her clothes were tight, but there was no time to get them altered. She'd worn only the order's pale yellow robes since last autumn and she'd grown an inch taller in that time. Wider too, thanks to her child.

  Footsteps approached along the corridor as she tied her curly red hair back. She tried to show only but the grace of a princess as the novice Bharise stopped at her open doorway, the young woman's olive skin and dark curly hair setting off her pale robes.

  Caroline caught her breath when she noticed the shimmering alimoth flowers on the insides of the young Servant's wrists, something she'd never been able to see before. A nightmare. It had to be.

  "Everything's prepared, Your Highness," Bharise said, staring up at Caroline's face as if she noticed something different.

  Caroline felt her cheeks flush. The girl knew somehow. "Thank you Bharise. I'll be down in a moment." As the acolyte's footsteps retreated, Caroline buried her face in her spare riding dress to smother her growing distress. She needed someone to talk to; the closeness of her sisters.

  "It's ironic, don't you think?"

  Caroline jumped, a loose strand of her curly red hair drooping over her face. She dropped the dress on her bed as the abbey's High Priestess entered her room in a swish of richly embroidered golden robes. Easily a foot shorter than Caroline and perhaps half her weight, Tarine's presence nevertheless intimidated despite her years. Her grey hair and carved staff of office made her even more imposing, as if she were looking for an excuse to it as a weapon on someone.

  With her mother's clan heritage Caroline had always been tall. Now she stood a head above almost everyone, even most men, yet still felt like a child as she confronted Tarine. "Ironic?" Caroline almost stammered as she stuffed the heavy dress in her travel pack, making certain her sleeves didn't slip and expose her wrists.

  "How you came here under the pretext of finding your calling?" Tarine glanced pointedly at Caroline's wrists, her expression suggesting Caroline was no more worthy of Divine Service today than she'd been half a year ago. "Did you even pray to our Goddess while you were here, guile aside?"

  Our Goddess. The words felt like a slap. "Of course. Devoutly." What woman wouldn't beg the Goddess's blessing while pregnant?

  Tarine showed her own wrists. Like Bharise, a single bell-shaped alimoth flower glowed with divine light on the insides of each.

  Caroline kept her eyes on the swarthy woman's face. Only three Servants knew why she was here, and Tarine was one. "I've imposed upon you too long, High Priestess."

  Tarine's eyes narrowed. "You're ready for your journey?" The words were cold. Precise. Angry even.

  Caroline felt her cheeks flush with shame, but was grateful the woman didn't force the issue. "Yes High Priestess. Thank you for your patience and the kindness you've shown me."

  Tarine produced a tight smile, her skin crinkling at the sides of her mouth if not her eyes. "Unlike some Gods, our Divine Lady isn't biased toward age, station or gender when offering Service, but neither does she grant her favours lightly."

  It was another opening, a chance to acknowledge her divine marks without being called out. "High Priestess, please understand that this abbey only holds bitter heartache for me." Humiliated, she revealed her luminous alimoth outlines. "I'm not prepared to accept these. They're a punishment."

  "They're never a punishment!" Tarine said with the harshness of a slap, but quickly composed herself. "I'll pray to our Divine Lady. Perhaps she'll give you the time you need to accept her offer." She sounded as if the words were forced.

  "I shall pray for the same," Caroline whispered. She'd always assumed that if she were ever called to Service it would be the Divine Lady Kindra du Erim, Protector of Warriors, or perhaps one of the Elemental Gods such as Haram du Heth, Lord of Fire. She couldn't remember a time when she hadn't loved watching fire dance in a fireplace.

  "Before you depart you should know that Lady Rhonda duPrey also discovered the healing flowers on her wrists this morning. She has accepted her calling and expects to return to begin her training this summer. Her flowers are fully formed, not outlines like yours."

  Caroline dropped her eyes. "Rhonda will make a wonderful priestess." And she would. She had a gentle nature, as did her younger sister Kirsty. She would be well suited to the Goddess of Healing.

  Tarine stared as if measuring Caroline's words, but finally seemed to accept them as intended. "Rhonda's loyalties run deep. She's only leaving because she was asked to remain with you."

  "I made no such request. Who asked?"

  "Our Goddess."

  Our. "But..."

  "The Divine Lady speaks to all of us at the moment of our choosing. You'll eventually have to make a choice; walk the Divine Lady's path or step from it forever."

  The choice was easy then. "High Priestess-"

  Tarine threw her staff on the bed and grasped Caroline's hands, squeezing painfully. Although there was conflict in the priestess's expression, Caroline had never seen her shirk her duties to her Goddess. "I understand your doubts, but She won't give you another chance if you deny Her."

  For a heartbeat Caroline considered refusing anyway. The woman clearly wanted Caroline to refuse Service despite the words, yet to deny the Goddess in her own temple… She couldn't do it. "As you wish, High Priestess. May peace and health always be yours." Caroline's alimoth outlines flared warmly at the ritual blessing, divine light passing through her to the High Priestess. Caroline gasped and pulled her hands free as Tarine's eyes widened. Only devoted Servants could invoke the Divine Lady's blessing.

  Taine backed a step, confusion and doubt in her expression. "I… I must pray for understanding. Perhaps you're being called to greater things than this abbey."

  With her body still flushed with divine warmth from the invocation, Caroline picked up her pack and swept out of the room, wishing she could leave her fears with Tarine's shocked stare.

  Within the hour she was a mile along the road toward Fandelyon City in the company of her friends Rhonda and Kirsty duPrey, all three escorted by the King's Guard. Behind them rode two maids, a hefty Servant devoted to Kindra du Erim, and the duPrey brothers sent to chaperone them. Overcast and gloomy for the most part, Caroline suspected it might rain despite the occasional patches of sunlight. The clouds were certainly getting heavier.

  "How are you?" asked Kirsty, the younger duPrey sister and Caroline's best friend. Although pale-skinned like most nobles, she had dark hair like a commoner, but straight. Almost blue-black. Little Raven, her siblings called her when they wanted to tease. They hadn't seen each other in months due to Caroline's illness.

  She kept her eyes forward as she didn't how to reply without revealing her heartache over giving up her child, but tried a hesitant smile. No doubt she'd have similar trouble keeping the secret from her sisters when she got home. The number of nights she'd woken up crying, a phantom baby in her arms… She took a calming breath, slowly releasing it. "I'm fine, Kirsty. Fully recovered. Truly." She'd wanted to die, at first, but only cowardly izzen chose that path. She reached out and took Kirsty's hand. "Your presence helps."

  Her baby would be long gone from these parts, a month old now. For the first couple of weeks Caroline had fantasised about seeking out the child and running away with him or her, perhaps to live among the clans. She was sure to have kin there if she could find them, but after watching Tarine swear an oath of secrecy to her Goddess, Caroline was certain the priestess would neither divulge the child's location nor Caroline's indiscretion.

  Caroline stared ahead, blinking to keep tears at bay. Best no
t to think about it. Obsessing would only lead to more heartache.

  "But you were sick for so long. The High Priestess said you only began to recover a few weeks ago. Are you sure you're well enough to travel?"

  Lying to her friend didn't come as easily as she wished. "High Priestess Tarine is cautious. She probably made it seem a worse illness than it actually was." She'd almost died, certainly, and for days afterward had muffled her sobs under her sheets, wishing she had. It shouldn't hurt so much to lose something she'd never held.

  Wind caught Rhonda's long honey-coloured hair, but the older girl didn't pull her hood up to protect herself. She had a distant look, as if she'd rather be somewhere else. Back at the abbey, no doubt.

  "High Priestess Tarine said you plan to return," Caroline said, hoping to change the subject. "That the Divine Lady marked you?"

  Something like fear passed across Rhonda's features, but it was gone in an instant. Rhonda held up her wrists and her sleeves fell back a little. She stared at her alimoth flowers as if she wasn't sure she'd made the right decision. The fully formed flowers were clear to Caroline, and very lifelike.

  Kirsty frowned. "I wish I'd been called," she murmured, staring at Rhonda's wrists as if wishing she could see the divine marks too.

  Despite the wistfulness, Caroline heard the hurt in Kirsty's voice. Rhonda was tall, graceful and confident, and now she'd been called into Divine Service. Kirsty, prettier except for her raven hair, was small, timid, and awkward, younger than Rhonda by more than a year.

  "You're expected to make a sacrifice when entering a Divine Lord or Lady's Service to show your dedication. What was yours?" Caroline asked.

  Rhonda paled, her posture stiffening. "Nothing I wouldn't give a thousand times over."

  Lightning flashed bright and thunder pealed across the sky like a God crying out in anguish.