Zealot

by Cyndi Friberg

  “All of this still depends on Chandar,” Indigo stressed. “She has to be willing to work with me or I’m wasting my time.”

  “I understand that and I’m still grateful that you’re willing to try.”

  “They’re on their way,” Zilor warned.

  A few moments later Raylon appeared in the courtyard with Chandar plastered against him. She had her face pressed against his chest and her arms wrapped around his back. Even from across the room, Indigo could see that she was shaking.

  Raylon stroked her hair, his voice soft and low. “We’re there, angel. Take a look around.”

  “I want to stay with you.” Chandar’s voice sounded high and panicked.

  “I’ll be right next door. No one is going to harm you. There’s no way I’d let that happen.”

  “But you can’t protect me if you’re not with me.”

  He grasped her upper arms and eased her back then raised her face until she looked at him. “You’re not alone anymore. There are others who want to help you, want to help me protect you. We talked about this. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes. I trust you.” Then in a low, more intimate tone she added, “I trust only you.”

  “No.” He lowered his arms and took a step away from her. “If you trust me, then show me. Give my friends a chance.”

  Her hands clenched then released then clenched again. “I’ll try.”

  “Good.” He motioned Indigo toward them. “You enjoyed talking with Indigo this morning, didn’t you? All she wants to do is talk some more. Besides, you promised to teach her Rodyte and I’m pretty sure that hasn’t happened yet.”

  He knew damn well it hadn’t happened because he’d listened to every word they said. Indigo understood the precaution, but it still angered her. “Each suite has a bathtub.”

  Chandar pivoted on the ball of her foot and looked at Indigo. “Truly?”

  “Why would I lie?” She didn’t need to manufacture a smile. Chandar’s delicate features and sad eyes made it impossible not to care about her. “All you have to do is walk through one of the doors to find out for yourself.”

  “Which room is yours?”

  “They’re identical, so it doesn’t matter.”

  “You choose first,” Raylon suggested. “You’re the guest of honor.”

  “I want Indigo on one side of me and you on the other.”

  “Done.” He smiled. “Now tell me which room is yours so we’ll know which rooms are ours.”

  She simply pointed to the nearest door. “That one.”

  “Then I’ll take that one.” He indicated the one to Chandar’s right.

  “And I’ll take that one.” Indigo pointed to the door on Chandar’s left.

  “Zilor and Danvier will be staying here as well,” Raylon told Chandar as he casually motioned toward the other two men. “Someone will always be nearby, ensuring that you and Indigo are safe.”

  She looked at Zilor and then Danvier, obviously displeased with the arrangement. But, miraculously, she didn’t object.

  Indigo shifted the bundle to her left hand and held out her right. “Let’s go check out your room.” She was relieved when Chandar took her hand and followed her into the nearest suite.

  Chandar pulled her hand out of Indigo’s as soon as they crossed the threshold then surprised her even more by closing the door. “Is he angry with me?”

  “Raylon?” Chandar nodded so Indigo asked, “Why would he be angry with you?”

  “Because I didn’t want to leave the ship.”

  “He might have been frustrated by the delay, but he wasn’t angry. We all know this is hard for you.”

  She shoved her hands into her pockets and lowered her head. “I wasn’t always such a coward. At least, I don’t think I was.”

  “You’re not a coward. You’re just unsure of what to expect. We all feel like that sometimes.” Indigo walked to the bed and set down the bag she’d gotten from Danvier. “Your brother gathered some things for you.” She pulled out a royal-blue tunic and held it up. The front had been embroidered in silver, the pattern intricate yet still delicate. “This is really pretty and it’s guaranteed to fit better than what you’re wearing now.”

  Chandar’s eyes narrowed as she looked at the tunic. “I think I’ve worn something like that before. It seems familiar.”

  “Danvier’s outfit is similar. Maybe it’s a sort of uniform for harbingers.” When Chandar didn’t reply, Indigo set down the tunic and crossed the room, pushing open the door to the adjoining bathroom. “As promised.” She swept her hand toward the bathtub, which was visible through the open doorway.

  “Once I submerge myself in there, I’m going to soak for days.” Chandar sounded wistful and a dreamy smile curved her mouth. “We better have our next session now. I don’t want Zilor mad at me too.”

  The casual statement implied knowledge Chandar shouldn’t possess. Just like she’d known Indigo’s name without being told. Chandar might not be aware of it, but her abilities were still functioning, at least on some level. “Why would Zilor be angry with you?”

  “Every moment you spend with me is a moment you’re not with him.” Chandar’s smile held just a hint of challenge.

  “We’re not lovers.”

  “You will be. Very soon.”

  She sounded so definite, so absolute that Indigo wasn’t able to let the comment slide. “This is what you think or this is what you know?”

  “I don’t need my abilities to see where your relationship is headed. You can’t keep your eyes off each other and you reek of male Rodyte. I presume that’s Zilor’s mark you’re wearing.”

  Indigo glanced down to make sure Chandar meant the invisible mark as opposed to the disgusting hickey he’d left on her breast. The borrowed dress only revealed a hint of cleavage, so she relaxed and returned her gaze to Chandar. “We’re not here to talk about my sex life. We’re here to talk about you.”

  “Sex life? What a strange phrase. Don’t you realize Zilor wants much more from you than sex? He’s your mate. He wants to claim you, join with you, body, mind, and soul.”

  She didn’t need another lecture on the advantages of bonding with a Rodyte. Besides, Chandar was simply evading her issues. “I know Zilor and I are genetically compatible and he’s made what he wants extremely clear. Unfortunately for him, I’m not interested in a serious relationship right now.”

  “Why not?”

  “I was raised on Earth, surrounded by humans. And few humans actually bond for life. Most try to find a permanent mate, but it seldom lasts a lifetime.” The fact had never left her feeling so discontent before. Men were entertaining and sex was fun with the right partner. She considered herself a free spirit. So why did Zilor have her thinking about happily ever after? They’d only known each other a couple of days. “Can we talk about something else now?”

  Chandar took one of the armchairs and dragged it to the corner farthest away from the bed then sat down and kicked off her shoes. “What do you want to talk about?”

  Left with no other choice but to follow Chandar’s example or stand, Indigo pulled a chair over to the corner and sat facing her reluctant patient. “That’s up to you.”

  “I want to talk about you and Zilor, but you just said that wasn’t an option.”

  “Talking about me won’t help you heal. Do you want to be less afraid and feel more like your old self?”

  Chandar drew her legs up in front of her like a shield. “I don’t remember my old self so I’m not sure how to answer that.”

  “All right.” Chandar still seemed incredibly vulnerable, but she also responded best to direct, honest information. “I’ve never been good at small talk. How about if we just dive right in? Have you ever heard of a soul seer?”

  Her eyes rounded and she wrapped her arms around her legs, drawing herself into a tighter ball. “I’ve heard of the gift, but I thought it was extinct. You’re really a soul seer?”

  “I am.” She’d used her ability for years,
even if she hadn’t known what to call it. “Can you lower your shields or do you trust me enough to let me pass through them?”

  “I think I can lower them. Gods know I’ve spent enough time reinforcing them.” She closed her eyes but a second later they flew open again. “Will this hurt?”

  Honesty was crucial while building trust, so Indigo answered truthfully. “It might not be pleasant once we start working. Right now, I just want to look around.”

  With a stiff nod, Chandar closed her eyes again and moved her hands back to the arms of her chair. “Go ahead.”

  Indigo slowed her breathing and watched the area around Chandar’s head and shoulders. Sometimes the soul strands would just flash into view, other times everything else blurred as the strands became visible. She waited, refusing to push, even unintentionally. But nothing happened.

  “I’m not resisting you,” Chandar said, starting to fidget in her chair.

  “It’s not you. It’s me. The last couple of days have been strange. I must be tired.” She shifted to a more natural position and tried again. Something flickered near Chandar’s left temple and then a similar spark ignited near her right temple. Indigo concentrated on one glimmer and then the other, willing them to expand. Slowly, the flecks of light grew, one turned blue, the other remained white. “It’s working. Just relax and let it happen.”

  Indigo smiled. The advice had been as much for herself as for her restless patient. It was easy to forget that her gift needed to flow. It couldn’t be forced or bullied. She took a deep breath and let it out gradually, feeling the air pass through her nose and rush across her upper lip. The simple distraction worked almost immediately. The glimmers near Chandar’s temples brightened again and then gave birth to streamers of light.

  The two primary strands branched off and multiplied. They dipped and swayed, weaving together in a pattern both intricate and compact. The concentrations of strands indicated how much had happened in Chandar’s short life. Each color was vivid. Each strand pulsed with energy, giving off light and heat. Even if Chandar couldn’t access it right now, her power was vast and explosive. Indigo stood and slowly walked around Chandar. The chair was too close to the wall for a complete rotation, but Indigo viewed the strands from as many angles as possible.

  A cluster of strands protruded from Chandar’s head, low near the nape of her neck. The ends were blackened and lifeless. Indigo had honestly expected more damage. She retraced her steps, hugging the wall so she could see the other side of Chandar’s head. A similar cluster of broken strands extended from just behind her ear. The missing strands likely connected the two sections, arching around the back of the harbinger’s head.

  “What do you see?” Chandar opened her eyes and looked at Indigo, somewhat surprised to find her standing.

  “It’s not nearly as bad as I feared. The flow of your energy has been interrupted, but I’m not sure that’s a bad thing.” She paused, considering the options before offering them to Chandar. But ultimately, it was Chandar’s choice. This was Chandar’s life. “If I reconnect the strands, your power will resume its natural rhythm, but you’ll likely remember what happened to you. If I leave the strands broken, it’s possible that we can find other ways for you to access your abilities and you won’t be tormented by memories of the past two years.” When Chandar didn’t immediately state her preference, Indigo asked, “I know you don’t remember any of it, but has anyone told you where you where and what took place?”

  Chandar crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. The pearlescent quality in her skin was especially apparent as she looked up at Indigo with panic in her eyes. “No one has told me anything, not even Raylon.”

  “Would you like to know or would you rather concentrate on moving beyond the darkness?”

  She paused for a moment then shook her head again. “I need to understand why I’m so afraid—and so angry. Tell me what you know.”

  Indigo chose her words carefully, trying to relate what she knew as gently as possible. “You’re an organic harbinger and you’re female. The two combine to make you extremely powerful. So the ruler of your planet awarded you to one of his favorites. Your master’s name was Akim Farmon. You’ve served him for the past two years.”

  “There’s nothing unusual in what you just said. Harbingers are always awarded to powerful people.”

  “You stated that as if it was a fact,” Indigo pointed out. “You’re correct, but why were you so sure?”

  Chandar shrugged. “My distant past is becoming clearer with every passing hour. It’s just the recent past that’s lost in darkness.”

  “Well, the men are basically guessing about the details of your captivity, but there are three things that indicate the severity of Akim’s abuse.”

  Chandar’s tone was tight and quiet as she asked, “And they are?”

  “Your brother believed you were dead and no one had reason to doubt him.”

  “Why did he believe I’d passed beyond?” Her tone sounded innocent, but she quickly averted her gaze.

  “You severed the link so he couldn’t sense you, couldn’t sense what was happening to you. The link had been there since birth.”

  She didn’t seem surprised by the revelation. In fact, her expression didn’t change at all. “I didn’t sever the link. My mother did.” She shifted her gaze back to Indigo as she explained, “I was simply too young to stop her. By the time I was strong enough to reestablish the connection, I didn’t see the point. Many years had passed. Everyone had already grieved my passing. I didn’t see what was gained by reopening the wound.”

  “Did you know what Pyre and Quinton had in mind for you?”

  “I didn’t know who my master would be, but I knew I’d be awarded. That’s the fate of every harbinger.”

  Indigo wasn’t sure she believed Chandar’s casual demeanor. She appeared calm, almost indifferent. As if the events had no meaning or influence on her current situation.

  “And the second reason?” Chandar prompted after a short, thoughtful pause.

  “There were two rescue missions. The first failed. After the first attempt, Akim felt it necessary to wipe your memory.” She still just stared back at Indigo, stone-faced and silent. People often resisted concepts they didn’t want to understand, so Indigo became less diplomatic. “He didn’t want anyone to know how you’d been treated. I only know a few of the details, but you’re a very beautiful woman. It doesn’t take much imagination to figure out the sorts of indignities you were forced to endure.”

  Chandar accepted the information with a tense nod. “You can say it, Indigo. He raped me, likely every night for the past two years. Sexual service is often demanded of female harbingers. That’s still not as bad as some of the things I was imagining.” Despite her assertion, Chandar didn’t sound convincing. “What’s the last piece of evidence?”

  “You grew desperate enough to break your silence.”

  That seemed to shock Chandar. “I did? What did I do?”

  “You called out telepathically, and one of the people who received your message was Ashley. She’s a Rodyte/human hybrid, like me, so she wasn’t able to shield her mind and protect herself from the intensity of your signal.”

  “Oh gods, how badly did I hurt her?”

  “She’s almost fully recovered, but you transmitted images and emotions along with your cry for help. I haven’t spoken with Ashley yet, and I’m not sure the details are important, but Akim and his brother deserve to burn in hell for what they put you through.”

  A false calm settled over Chandar’s features, like the eerie smile on a porcelain doll. “Thank you for being so honest. Everyone is afraid of me. They treat me like a child, act like I’m going to shatter, or explode and take them all with me.”

  Chandar was right, but Indigo also understood how hard it was to be natural with someone who had suffered so much. “They’re just worried about you because they care so deeply.”

  Without further comment, Chandar lightly touc
hed the wall and switched to Rodyte as she said, “Random images of space to this viewscreen.” The images started flashing across the entire surface of the wall and she moved her hand back to the arm of the chair.

  Could images be projected on every wall in Rodymia? How had Chandar known how to activate the display? The detail didn’t matter. Chandar was obviously finished talking for tonight. She needed time to adjust to all she’d lost, and all she’d suffered. At the very least, she’d lost two years of her life. And her mother stood back and let it happen. The realization nagged away in the back of Indigo’s mind. It was likely Chandar would make the connection before too long and Indigo needed to be ready for the avalanche of emotions that would doubtlessly follow.

  “I think we’ve accomplished enough for the first day.” She started to return her chair to its original position then decided it was pointless. Chandar was obviously not ready to give up her protective corner, even if the location of that corner had changed. “Why don’t you go take your bath and try to relax. If you need anything, I’ll be next door or in the courtyard.”

  When she was almost to the door Chandar stopped her. “Could I be pregnant?”

  Indigo carefully calmed her expression before she turned around. “Don’t Rodytes have to bond before they can produce children?”

  “But I can’t remember anything about those two years. How do I know he didn’t convince me to bond with him? You’re presuming it was always rape, but two years is a very long time.”

  Rather than soothe her with false reassurance, Indigo said, “I’ll get some sort of pregnancy test, so we can know for sure.”

  “Thank you.” Finally emotions sparked to life within Chandar’s eyes, but they were so bleak, so hopeless that Indigo almost ran back across the room and wrapped her arms around the other woman.

  “Would you like me to stay? You don’t have to take a bath if you’d rather—”

  “I’m fine. A bath sounds wonderful.” Her voice was stronger, more convincing, but her gaze was still shattered.