Corizen Rising

by Heidi J. Leavitt

  “I didn’t want to worry you,” admitted Sister Marna. “There are wanted posters with your name and picture tacked up in places all over the city. It’s not a very good picture. I am amazed anyone connected it with you in the first place.”

  “Wanted posters,” repeated Tiran dully. How would she ever get away from these men? Was it just inevitable that she would be hunted down and killed like her mother? The tears silently began to streak down her face.

  “They only just appeared last week after the Armada was forced off our planet,” Sister Marna continued.

  “But the Oman has suspected for months that you were here in the city somewhere,” added Zaq grimly. “He just couldn’t ask more openly until the Armada was gone, since they were searching for you too.”

  “This is terrible,” managed Tiran thickly. “Sister Marna, what am I going to do? Where am I going to go? I can’t stay here!”

  “No, I’m afraid we cannot protect you any longer,” agreed Sister Marna. She paused for a moment and looked at Zaq.

  “I have asked Zaq to take you with him, and he has consented.” Tiran jerked around to stare at Zaq.

  “But I hardly know you! No offense, Zaq, but . . .” she trailed off awkwardly. “Maybe if you just lent me some money, I could travel to Roma, there’s bound to be someone still at the International Complex that could help me get in contact with my father,” she suggested hopefully, her eyes pleading with Sister Marna.

  “Tiran,” she explained gently, “if it was just a matter of getting you to the International Complex I would have sent you months ago. However, we do not know who to trust now. The Brotherhood has spies all around us.” Tiran couldn’t help but glance at Zaq. He was nice and all, but didn’t the “no trust” rule apply to him also? Sister Marna saw her doubt and answered gently, “I trust Zaq with my life, Tiran. I am trusting him with my life, as well as all the other Sisters by having this conversation right now.”

  Tiran blushed in shame. She knew that Sister Marna was risking the wrath of the Oman by protecting her. If he ever found out, the Women of the Tender Heart could pay a terrible price.

  “All right,” she relented, biting her lip. “When do we leave?”

  “In just a few minutes. I’m going to go get a few supplies packed for the two of you,” Sister Marna detailed. She rose swiftly and headed to the door. “I’ll be back in a moment,” she added before she closed the door behind her.

  Tiran sat silently staring at her hands in embarrassment. She barely knew this man except for brief casual meetings, and now she was supposed to go into hiding with him. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Before, she had always chatted with him almost completely at ease, but now she couldn’t think of a single thing to break the lengthening silence.

  Zaq cleared his throat. “Um, Sister . . . or Tiran, I guess? I just wanted . . .” he broke off. Tiran shyly looked at him. He was staring straight ahead at the flowers on Sister Marna’s desk as if they were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. Finally, he turned his head slowly, as with great effort. His eyes pierced hers, and she was taken aback. She had taken his silence to mean that he was embarrassed also, but clearly that wasn’t the case. His dark eyes burned into hers.

  “I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe,” he vowed intensely. “You can trust me.” Immediately he grabbed the back of his neck and closed his eyes, grimacing in pain.

  “Zaq?” Tiran asked hesitantly. “Are you all right?”

  He sat in silent agony for a moment and then lowered his hand. He looked up at her again and flashed his crooked grin. “Just a neck spasm, that’s all. I get them occasionally. I’m fine now.” Tiran smiled in response, and to her surprise found herself relaxing a bit. Perhaps she did trust Zaq, at least a little bit.

  “Where are we going to go?” she asked apprehensively. She had never traveled much. Almost all of her life she had lived and stayed within one small area of Roma. As a young child she had stayed with Jerrapo when her parents traveled abroad for her father’s work-related appearances, and when she had gotten older, they had left her home with only the housekeeper to keep an eye on her. Twice she had gone to Freeport to visit the Ka family, but that was her only experience in Urok. She barely knew anything about the rest of the continent except that the capital was Croask and that the Blue Plains were somewhere near Kruundin City.

  “We should be able to find somewhere safe,” Zaq reassured. “Maybe in one of the new provinces. There are hardly any people in many of them yet. The Oman probably doesn’t have much influence in them, so far from the major cities.”

  Tiran bit her lip. The provinces were part of Malta, Corizen’s one other major continent and the islands that surrounded it. She had lived off the coast of Malta in the Resistance’s colony Faroi as a small child, but she could barely remember it now. It just sounded so far, so remote. How could she hope to ever get back home from there?

  “First, though, I need to meet with a friend of mine. He is a trait—well, a disillusioned member of the Brotherhood. We’ll need his help if we are ever going to elude the Oman for long,” Zaq added thoughtfully. He looked at Tiran. She tried valiantly to hide the fear in her eyes, but she must not have been terribly successful because Zaq smiled reassuringly.

  “Don’t worry, it will be all right. I promise.”

  The door opened behind them and both Tiran and Zaq jerked around. It was Sister Marna carrying two zipped packs and a small black bundle. She handed a zip pack to each of them and then presented the black bundle to Tiran. “It’s a plain black jumpsuit and boots. It might be a little big,” she said critically, eyeing Tiran’s slight figure, “but it will help you blend in a little better. Someone might recognize the dress of our Order, plain as it is.” Tiran nodded and escaped briefly to her room to change. When she returned, Zaq and Sister Marna were exchanging fervent whispers.

  “Encourage them not to join. It will lead to disaster!” Zaq finished heatedly. He cringed in pain again, with another neck spasm, Tiran supposed. They turned to look at her and straightened.

  “It’s best if you leave through the back,” Sister Marna instructed. “They will be serving dinner soon and there will be a crowd waiting in front.” Zaq nodded and looked to Tiran. Sister Marna took them down the hallway to the door that led to the alley in back of the building. At the door, Sister Marna stepped out briefly to check the alley. She beckoned them out and they stepped into the shadows of the walls.

  Sister Marna pressed her lips to Tiran’s cheek. “Good luck, my dear girl. May Veshti’s blessings follow you. Trust in Him. Stay with Zaq. He will keep you safe,” she urged. Zaq looked at Tiran, and she nodded her assent. Silently and quickly they moved along the alley walls toward the street. Tiran glanced back once to see Sister Marna watching them for a moment. Then she vanished back into the building. Her heart pounding, Tiran turned back and quickened her pace to match Zaq’s. Within a few moments they had turned the corner onto the main street and headed out into the city.

  17. Confidences

  The sun had finally sunk beneath the horizon, softening the blinding glare of another blistering summer’s day. Even the cool breezes which normally blew in to refresh Freeport had been missing today. Andie watched the red glow above the harbor slowly darken from the window of the Ka’s guest bedroom. Yet another long day of waiting had finally passed. It was the last day Bret would be remaining in Freeport before returning back to Roma for a stretch. If he hadn’t heard anything yet, she might have to wait until his next trip home in two weeks. It was unbearable, all this waiting.

  Someone knocked softly on the door, and Andie turned to see Rosalea standing in the doorway.

  “May I come in?” she asked politely.

  Andie smiled in welcome. “Sure. I was just watching the sunset. It’s such a beautiful view of the harbor from these windows.” She waved at the large glass panes.

 
; “We are lucky to see it at all,” Rosalea admitted. “We are so far back from the water, but fortunately we are high enough to see out over the docks. It is one of my favorite things about this house.”

  Andie settled into one of the two plush chairs stationed in front of the window, and Rosalea took the other one. They both looked silently out over the shimmering water for a moment before Rosalea spoke.

  “May I ask you a personal question, Andie?”

  “Of course,” Andie answered, a bit absently. She was still looking out over the water.

  “Why didn’t Casey come back with you?” asked Rosalea timidly. Andie stiffened as if she had been shocked. “I do not mean to intrude,” Rosalea added hurriedly. “I know it is none of my business. Only you seem so sad, and this is such a difficult burden; I wondered why you were doing this alone.”

  Andie sighed heavily and turned back to Rosalea. “I haven’t seen Casey since the Inaugural Ball,” she admitted reluctantly. “He doesn’t even know that I’m here.”

  Rosalea gasped. “But Andie!” She opened her mouth to continue and then closed it. Andie noted the shock and puzzlement in Rosalea’s eyes. She sighed and slid her fingers up the smooth wood of the chair arm. “At first I was just so angry. How dare he ship me off to Zenith and tell everyone I was dead! How could he just abandon Tiran like that, running off to Tyre?” Her eyes narrowed as she thought about it. Rosalea watched her carefully but kept silent, waiting for the rest. “I couldn’t comm him, not a text or anything. Casey had explained to my father that even his superiors on Tyre didn’t know that I was really alive.” The old ache throbbed painfully but Andie fought it down. It was important not to let it affect her. The most important thing was finding Tiran.

  “So I waited and waited for him to come to Zenith to explain what was going on. I was the only one who knew who Tiran had really left with, and Casey wouldn’t even bother to talk to me!” her voice started to rise. Rosalea took Andie’s hand and pressed it gently. Andie took a deep breath and continued, “So as soon as I was well enough I made plans to come here and search for Tiran myself. My father was the only one in contact with Casey, and I made him promise not to tell. I told him I would tell Casey myself,” Andie swallowed, trying valiantly not to cry.

  “But I didn’t—I was too upset and too hurt,” she confessed. “Childish, I know,” she added wryly at Rosalea’s disbelieving look. Rosalea smiled slightly.

  “I knew he didn’t love me like he used to,” Andie whispered. “He’d even talked about separating. But things weren’t so bad . . . I can’t understand why he didn’t want to at least come see me on Zenith. But no, even when I nearly died, his work still came first. It came before me and it came before our daughter.” The words came out in a low rush. “What in the world happened to the man I married?”

  “Perhaps there’s some misunderstanding,” Rosalea offered hesitantly. She pursed her lips and then leaned forward. Her eyes were bright and intense.

  “Andie, whatever is going on with Casey, I do know this much from Bret. He did not leave Corizen willingly. The Union Council did not allow him the choice to stay,” she explained carefully.

  “He didn’t . . . leave . . . willingly?” Andie repeated in confusion. It was like a dark cloud was dissolving. Had she misjudged Casey, all this time?

  “No,” answered Rosalea firmly. “He didn’t give up on Tiran, Andie. He had a task force looking for her as long as he could.”

  Andie absorbed this in silence, her mood abruptly lifting. It was like someone had handed her a gift. Casey wasn’t a complete stranger. He did still care about Tiran.

  Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and both Andie and Rosalie turned to the doorway in anticipation. Bret stopped at the threshold. His eyes were bright with suppressed excitement.

  “You have news?” Rosalea guessed. Andie clambered to her feet.

  “Yes. But not all of it is good,” Bret began warningly. Andie held her breath and exchanged worried glances with Rosalea.

  “My contacts say that wanted posters and a picture of Tiran started showing up all over Kruundin City just recently. It’s a really terrible picture, but it seems to have been enlarged from a security camera shot of your daughter in the shuttleport at Kruundin City,” Bret explained.

  “One of my contacts cornered the security manager at the shuttleport and got these,” Bret pulled a couple of grainy photos from an envelope and handed them to Andie. She stared at them eagerly. They were very poor shots, but it was clearly Tiran walking next to the man Andie recognized as the librarian she had once confronted. Her hands started to shake, and Rosalea took the pictures.

  “You were right, Andie,” admitted Bret. “I compared the photo to some old archives. That is Erron Kruunde, and they did come to Urok.”

  “The bad news?” she managed to ask. “You said there was bad news.”

  Bret cleared his throat. “Well, obviously the Brotherhood knows that Tiran went to Kruundin City too. I don’t know if they stayed there, but my contact says that the local chapter of the Brotherhood has received hundreds of tips so far. They have already acted on the most credible, raiding buildings and conducting searches.”

  “So they might have already found her,” Andie croaked.

  “It’s possible,” conceded Bret bleakly. “But don’t give up hope yet. My contacts are still digging themselves. If Erron Kruunde has Tiran hidden somewhere in Kruundin City they’ll find her.”

  Andie stood so still she might have been a statue, Rosalea and Bret watching her carefully. “Well,” she finally whispered, “at least it’s a start.” Bret nodded, and Rosalea took Andie’s hand. “Come on, darling, let’s go have some supper. The food will do you some good.” Andie let Rosalea lead her downstairs.

  After supper, Andie returned to her room to give Rosalea and Bret some privacy on Bret’s last night in Freeport. She stood for a moment before the windows. It was fully dark now, with lights twinkling in the harbor from anchored ships. Considering all the possibilities, she finally decided to travel to Jaory Kruunde’s old manor herself. She shuddered at the thought. Kruunde Manor held some very painful memories. It would be hard to go back there. But she suspected that some of the old Kruunde servants would probably still be there, at least in the neighboring village. It was possible that somebody would know where Erron Kruunde would hide. With a plan of action firmly decided, she was finally able to relax a bit. At least she had something to try rather than waiting all day. For the first time in a week, she slipped easily into dreamless sleep.

  In the morning, Bret was already gone by the time Andie made her way downstairs. She found Rosalea absently stirring a cup of tea at the kitchen table. Her eyes were puffy and red. She looked up, her cheeks coloring slightly as Andie entered the room.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a hoarse voice. “I try to be brave. It is hard when he leaves for the capital though,” she explained apologetically.

  Andie sat at the table and took Rosalea’s hands. “You don’t have to apologize to me,” Andie comforted. “You don’t have to put on a brave show either. I know it’s hard.”

  Rosalea squeezed Andie’s hands. “You have enough problems without my worry adding to them. Let me get you some breakfast,” she tried to say with a feeble attempt at cheerfulness, but Andie waved her back down.

  “No, I don’t have time to stay. I’m leaving this morning.”

  “You can’t go to Kruundin City!” Rosalea exclaimed aghast. “The Brotherhood is combing that city apart!”

  “No, I am not quite that crazy,” said Andie. “Or rather, I would be if I really thought it would do any good. But the city is just too big. I don’t think I’m going to stumble across Tiran by accident.”

  Rosalea sighed in relief.

  “In fact,” added Andie thoughtfully, “I’d be surprised if they were still there. I doubt Erron Kruunde is a complete fool. As soon as
he saw those wanted posters, he probably got out of the city quickly.”

  “Then where do you expect to find them?” Rosalea asked, puzzled.

  “I’m going to go back to Kruunde Manor,” explained Andie. Rosalea understood instantly.

  “You are taking a risk,” she warned. “Some of the old servants may recognize you.”

  “They are the least likely people to turn me over to the Brotherhood if they do,” countered Andie. The two women held each other’s gaze for a moment. Rosalea’s eyes dropped first.

  “I would do it too, if it were my daughter,” she whispered. “I just hope they have the information you need.” Andie rose from the table.

  “I thought I’d hire a ground transport so I can drive directly to the Manor. I’d like to avoid Kruundin City altogether if I can,” she explained grimly.

  “Of course, I’ll do it under my own name. Give me two hours, and you’ll be on your way.” Rosalea stood. Andie reached forward and hugged her tightly.

  “You are the best, Rosalea Ka,” she murmured.

  18. The Traitor

  Within a day, Casey had been set up again in a small office in the old conference building in the International Complex. The Complex was much emptier now. The University still held a few classes but most of the students were no longer attending. The surviving skeleton of the bombed embassy had been torn down, but a giant crater still marked the spot where the building had stood. Weeds had sprung up over the months, but Casey also spied many small candles and statues left as memorials to friends or family who had been killed in the blast.

  His first trip back to his old home had been difficult. Security had been kept in place during his stay on Tyre, but when the Armada had left, all the security on the International Complex had been left in the hands of the CPF. Obviously they hadn’t been terribly concerned with protecting the empty house of an absent Ambassador. When he walked through the front door, he could immediately tell that the house had been broken into. Many of the small personal decorations or items that had been in the living area were missing, scrapes left in the thick layer of dust coating the furniture. The bedrooms had been in an even worse state. Nearly every personal item and all of the clothing had been stripped from the rooms. Casey wondered if it had been the actions of people seeking mementos of Sirra Bruche more than anything else. He felt violated, as if a large chunk of his past had been torn away from him. He had spent nearly all of his married life with Andie in that house, and Tiran had grown up there. There was so much missing it barely seemed like his home. He had practically fled from the house.