Landor, Con, and Ari were motionless, not even pretending to eat now, but they didn’t look as though they were on the verge of a blood rage. Landor, reading her concerns in her eyes, reached out and touched the back of her hand with his fingertips. “We’re all right, Kisu,” he said. “Please continue.”
Rayne nodded and swallowed hard. “I lost count a few times, but I believe they spent about two weeks trying to force me to shift out of sheer desperation before concluding that I couldn’t. They left me alone for a few days, and then, for the first and last time, one of them actually spoke to me. I don’t know who it was because the voice came over a speaker somewhere in the room. All he said was that I had fifteen minutes to reveal my psychic talent. If I didn’t do it in that time, they would proceed with a series of procedures designed to convince me to rethink my decision.”
“Did you tell them?” Con asked in a low, growly voice.
“No,” she replied. “I told them I didn’t have a psychic ability, just like I wasn’t able to shift, and nothing they did to me would change that.”
“And their response?” Ari asked. She looked at him, startled to find that his eyes, usually such a bright, beautiful amber, were now dark brown with a distinct red cast.
“The next couple of weeks were about the same as the first two,” she said with as little emotion as she could manage.
“You should have told them,” Landor said.
“No, I couldn’t do that.”
“Why not?” Con asked.
Rayne hesitated. It wasn’t hard to see how tense they were, or how hard they were struggling to hold their tempers in check. For their sakes, she searched for a way to break the tension. After a few moments she shrugged nonchalantly and said, “Because they didn’t say please.”
Their eyes widened in surprise, and then they smiled. Not big smiles, but a slight lifting of their lips that told her she’d succeeded. “Tell us, Kisu, if they’d said please, would you have told them what they wanted to know?” Landor asked.
“No, I wouldn’t have,” she admitted. “I had nothing to gain by it.”
“They might have quit torturing you,” Ari said, but she shook her head.
“No, they wouldn’t have,” she said flatly. “If I’d given in, they would’ve just moved on to the next item on their agenda. They wouldn’t have stopped.”
“How do you know that?” Con asked.
“Partly because they enjoyed it too much.” She lifted her cup and emptied it, then set it down on the table with far more care than was required. “More importantly, I’d figured out by then that they’d never release me, regardless of my level of cooperation. Telling them what they wanted to know would have done nothing but reward them for torturing me. Instead, every time I had a chance to make a pain of myself, I did.” She smiled at the looks of pride she received from all three of her men. Then she sighed. “Maybe it wasn’t the best way to go, but I felt like if I quit fighting it would be the same as giving up, and I…,” her voice trailed off, her eyes widened, and she gasped softly.
“Kisu?” Landor asked after she remained silent for a few moments. She swallowed the lump of tears that had risen in her throat.
“Sorry. I just remembered…something.”
“What?” Landor asked as gently as he could with his curiosity raging as it was.
“Whenever I thought about giving up, I saw the three of you standing in front of me, staring at me. I couldn’t give up with the three of you looking at me.”
“You remembered knowing about us,” Con said.
“Only that, so far, but yes.”
“It’s a start,” Landor said. “Please, go on.”
Rayne sipped her coffee and gathered her thoughts. “One day, after I’d been there for about a month, I got my hands on a scalpel and attacked one of them with it.”
“What happened?” Landor asked, already knowing by the expression in her eyes that it wasn’t going to be good.
“I discovered that their skin is very tough,” she said quietly. “That scalpel was razor sharp, but it barely scratched him. Unfortunately for me, the Doftle decided that I was too much trouble to be allowed any freedom of movement. At all.”
“What does that mean?” Con asked warily.
“It means that they drugged me so that I couldn’t move anything from my neck down, and then connected me to a bank of machines that did everything for me but think.”
“How long did they keep you like that?” Landor asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, frowning. “That’s all I remember so far.”
“It’s enough for now,” Ari said. Rayne nodded, then picked up her fork and tried eating a little more of her omelet.
“The only people I can think of who have bright blue skin, and a high degree of intelligence, are the Garakai,” Con said thoughtfully. “But they had multiple arms and legs and you said the Doftle are humanoid.”
“That’s right,” she said. “Two legs, two arms, only three fingers and a thumb on each hand but they’re definitely humanoid. I hated their eyes. I remember that. They don’t blink. Ever. I’m not sure they even have eyelids.”
“You said that they’re small,” Ari began, but paused when Rayne shook her head.
“No, I said that they’re short, not small. They’re very muscular and solid, with thick, heavy limbs and bodies.”
“You don’t remember what their purpose was?” Landor asked. “Why they tried to make you shift, or why they abducted you?”
“No,” she said slowly, “but I remember they….” Once again Rayne trailed off, but this time her eyes went distant and glassy. After a few moments her face turned gray, and one hand rose to the scar on her throat. She blinked, lowered her hand, pushed her chair back and stood up, her movements carefully measured and deliberate. “Excuse me,” she whispered, then turned and crossed the cafeteria as fast as she could without breaking into a run. By the time she reached the corridor, Landor, Con, and Ari had joined her. They didn’t ask her any questions, which she was thankful for. Landor simply picked her up, tucked her close, and began moving at blurring speed through the ship until they reached her room.
Con opened the door and Landor carried her inside, setting her down in an overstuffed chair. She looked up at him and swallowed repeatedly, fighting the urge to be sick. Landor went to his knees in front of her and took her hands in his while Con and Ari knelt on either side of her. “Tell us,” he said.
“I know why I couldn’t talk,” she whispered, then shuddered.
“All right,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.
“It’s really bad. Much worse than anything I’ve told you so far.”
“Your warning will help and, if necessary, we’ll go to the Roar Room,” he said. “It’s just at the other end of the corridor.”
Rayne had to force herself to speak. “They performed experiments on me,” she said so softly they had to strain to hear her. “Lots of them. That’s where the scars and wounds came from. I was paralyzed from the neck down, so they didn’t have to worry about me moving around and messing up whatever they were doing. I couldn’t move, but I could still feel just fine. At first they didn’t care that I was in pain, but after a couple of experiments they began to find my screams annoying.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I was nothing more than a lab animal to them, so instead of anesthetizing me, they just cut my vocal cords.”
For a long moment no one made a sound. They didn’t even breathe. Then Landor, Con, and Ari rose to their feet and bowed stiffly. “Please excuse us,” Landor said. “We need to run for a few minutes.”
Rayne nodded, watching helplessly as they all hurried out of her room. The moment they were gone her tension began to rise. She got up and started pacing, surprised at how shaky she felt. She’d definitely pushed her body beyond its limits for the day, but she couldn’t make herself stop. She had to move, or go crazy.
After a few minutes she realized that what she really wanted to do was go
to the Roar Room and check on the Bearen-Hirus. But, what if they didn’t want her there? What if seeing her only made things worse for them? Landor said they just wanted to run, so they weren’t in a blood rage, which meant she wasn’t needed. She looked around the room as she paced, searching for some way to distract herself, but it was no good. She needed to go to them, and the longer she resisted, the worse she felt.
She walked to the door, raised her shield all the way, then left her room and turned up the corridor, walking as fast as she could on increasingly unstable legs. Before she’d gone as far as the elevator bay she was walking with one hand on the wall in order to maintain her balance. Another dozen steps and her legs were shaking so badly that she had to lean against the wall to stay upright. It slowed her down, but it didn’t stop her. By the time she reached the Roar Room her heart was racing, she was gasping for air, and her entire body was trembling so hard that it required all of her concentration to remain upright.
She pulled the door open, wondering in passing why it was so heavy, then stumbled across the narrow ante room. Half way across she tripped and fell forward, raising her hands just in time to prevent herself from smacking into the viewing window face first. She leaned against it, glad it was there because without it, she’d have been on the floor.
Panting harshly, she watched Landor, Con, and Ari race around the enormous white padded room. She’d never seen their bearenca alter-forms before, and could only admire the three nine foot high bear-like creatures with foot long fangs, fifteen inch claws, and thick coats of shiny black fur. If they rose up on their hind legs, they’d be about eighteen feet tall, she guessed. Even though they were identical except for the color of their eyes, she had no trouble telling them apart even when they had their backs to her. Nor did she have any trouble hearing the fury and sorrow in their roars, though there was another emotion she couldn’t identify.
As she watched, the strength and depth of their emotional pain touched her even through her shield. They weren’t just running off their anger, she realized. They were in a full out blood rage, which explained her inability to remain in her room. She heard a particularly sorrowful roar come from Landor, and suddenly understood what that other emotion was that she hadn’t been able to identify. It was guilt.
With a choked sob, she immediately dropped her shield, then fell to her knees when the full power of their emotions crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her first instinct was to protect herself by raising her shield, but her need to help the Bearen-Hirus was greater. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, letting their sorrow, guilt, horror, and fury pound into and through her while tears streamed unchecked down her face.
She told herself that all she had to do was to get through these first few moments. Then the initial shock would ease up, and she could go into the shifting chamber and try to sing them through their blood rage. Her voice was soft and weak, but there was nothing that said the singing had to be loud, or even good. The only requirement was that it had to come from her. Only an Arima, or berezi, could sing her male-set out of a blood rage.
As she’d hoped, it started to get a little easier to deal with the flood of emotions, though she had no real idea of how long it took. She opened her eyes, placed her palms against the floor, and pushed. Nothing happened. She pushed harder, but it made no difference. Her body was simply too weak to obey her. Before she could make another attempt she was in Landor’s arms with Con and Ari crowding close.
“What happened?” she asked, surprised when her words came out in a slurred whisper.
“You lowered your shield,” Con said.
“And we felt your struggle to deal with our emotions,” Ari added.
“We had to pull ourselves out of our blood rage for your sake,” Landor said. “You matter to us above all things, Rayne. Without exception. We can only hope that one day you’ll believe that.”
“You’re making it a little impossible for me not to believe that,” she thought, but couldn’t find the energy to say. Instead, she focused what strength she had into reaching up and cupping his jaw with her hand. “I’m sorry.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” Landor said. “You warned us ahead of time, and that’s all you could have done. Please tell us why your body is trembling so hard and your face is so gray.”
“I ran here,” she whispered, letting her head fall against his shoulder because she couldn’t hold it up any longer. “Tired,” she murmured against his neck.
“I’m sure you are,” Landor said, already moving. After what felt like just a moment or two to Rayne, he laid her down on her bed. Con grabbed an extra blanket and covered her with it, then tucked it in around her body with gentle fingers. “We thank you for helping us, Rayne,” Landor said. “You need to rest, now.”
Rayne was surprised to find that her eyes had closed, but she had one thing she had to say. She had to concentrate to force them back open. “Not your fault.”
Landor shrugged, but Rayne’s strength was gone. Her eyes closed and darkness engulfed her.
“Is she going to be all right?” Ari asked worriedly.
“She should be fine after she’s rested,” Landor said, stroking her cheek lightly with his fingertips. “She didn’t have the strength to do what she did and yet, somehow, she did it anyway.”
“She should not have lived through what was done to her, either,” Con said. “But she did. I’m beginning to see how strong she truly is, and it shames me that we never bothered to look before now.”
“It shames us all,” Landor said. “But we must put our feelings, and our regrets, aside now, and focus on Rayne.”
“You’re right, of course,” Ari said. “But I have to first say that, as selfish as this may be, I can’t help but feel that there’s hope for us now.”
“She put us first,” Con said, nodding.
“It’s the first time anyone has put us first since we were small children,” Ari said.
“Yes, it is,” Landor agreed. “It’s a good feeling.”
“To say the least,” Con said, then frowned. “Are you sure she didn’t hurt herself?”
“Her shield is all the way down,” Landor reminded them. “Did either of you sense any pain coming from her?”
“No,” Ari said, “But there’s plenty of fear and exhaustion.”
“Yes,” Con agreed. “It occurs to me that we now know why she dissociated herself from pain.”
Landor stiffened. “It is difficult knowledge to possess, but we must accept it, and use it in our efforts to help Rayne.”
“Agreed,” Con said tightly, struggling to block the thoughts and images that kept trying to push their way into his mind. “I need to run a bit more.”
“Me too,” Ari agreed.
Landor nodded, taking a moment to smooth a wrinkle on the blanket covering Rayne’s shoulder, then place the pendant she now wore so that they could see her on their hand terminals while she slept. “Sleep well, Kisu.”
Chapter 8
363 Days in the Future
Rayne waited until the lights went out, then sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the narrow cot that served as her bed. She pushed herself to her feet, holding onto the thin mattress until she was sure she had her balance. Her body was telling her loud and clear that she’d over done the exercise the night before. She felt weak and shaky, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her. She didn’t know how far she’d have to walk to find Wolef when she escaped from her cell, and she had so little time to prepare. She knew she was lucky to be able to stand up at all after spending so much time immobile, and that she owed that to the drug the Doftle had given her.
“Wolef,” she said as she took her first step of the night. “Feel like talking?”
“I am happy to distract you while you pace your cell in order to gain strength for the benefit of us both,” he replied. Rayne sent him a smile. “Did you have a particular subject in mind?”
Reaching out to place one palm against the wall for balance, she
stepped around her cot. “Would you tell me how they managed to capture you?” she asked hesitantly. “I know how powerful Tani and Steel are in their dragon forms. It’s hard to imagine how the little blue thugs could have bested a dragon. If you’d rather not, I understand.”
“It wasn’t my finest hour, I admit,” Wolef said. “But, strangely, I do not object to sharing the story with you.”
“Strangely?”
“I’ve never shared it with anyone before,” Wolef said. “But then, no one has ever asked before, either.”
“Well, I’m asking,” Rayne said. “When I get out of here, I intend to make sure that your name is remembered, and that it’s high on the list of crimes laid at the Doftle’s feet.”
“You are very kind, Rayne Dracon. I like the idea of being remembered by one such as you once I’m gone.” There was a long silence, but Rayne didn’t break it, understanding that the dragon was gathering his thoughts. “I encountered the Doftle five hundred years ago. They sent out a call for help, claiming that a fire dragon had been in battle against an entity that had tried to destroy their world. The call indicated that, although the dragon had won the battle, he was near to losing his life. I answered the call, following it to a distant planet. The moment I landed, a Doftle walked out to meet me.
“While listening to the Doftle, the one called Weeble, tell his story about the wounded dragon, I sensed that something was amiss. Unfortunately, I was rather young and foolish, and did not act on my feelings when I should have. Seconds later a large number of Doftle suddenly popped up out of the ground where they’d been hiding and shot me with dozens and dozens of tranquilizer darts. I fought off the effects at first, but there were simply too many of them and before long I succumbed to the drug.
“The next time I awoke, it was to discover that I was no longer able to fly, move, open my eyes or do any of the minor magics common to dragons, such as call down lightning to destroy my enemies. Or myself. They’d mutilated my body, and they’d cut into my brain, deliberately causing irreparable damage. In time I overheard enough to know that I was the third dragon they’d captured, but the only one who survived what they referred to as modifications. I also discovered that they thought me to be completely brain dead. In fact, that was their intention. They wanted a dragon body, but they did not want the risk that even a disabled dragon would present to their safety.”
Rayne's Return (Hearts of ICARUS Book 3) Page 13