Shamara

by Catherine Spangler

  "There are flashing lights out there and it feels—" She stopped abruptly. "What's going on?"

  "The ship is about to be boarded. We don't have much time." He grabbed the satchel containing her things and took her arm, pulling her toward the corridor. "Come on."

  She stumbled after him. "Boarded? Are these my uncle's men?"

  No. It's me they're after. Hopefully, they know nothing about you."

  "Then they're bounty hunters." She tried to slow, but he pulled her along.

  "Yes. They're Turlock's men. And they're planning on taking me to Saron." He entered the galley and turned to Eirene. Her eyes were huge in her ashen face. The ship jolted and he grabbed her to steady her. Turlock's henchmen were docking. They only had a few moments until the airlock pressure stabilized, and they forced the entry.

  "Listen carefully. We have two things in our favor. The first is that they will expect me to be alone, because I've always traveled alone. The second is that Turlock keeps the ships of his victims. He's creating a major fleet. They'll pilot this ship to Saron."

  She stared at him, listening intently. Her energy spiked to high levels. Jarek wished he had time to reassure her. "I'm going to hide you. Most of our ships have concealed storage areas, a trick Moriah showed us. There's one in this galley, and it's stocked with food and water, for a situation such as this."

  He reached behind the replicator and pushed a pad. A section of panel swung out, replicator and all, revealing a compartment large enough to hold weapons, gold, supplies—or two people.

  Her eyes widened. "You want me to hide in there?"

  "Yes, and quickly.

  "But—"

  "No arguments. Please, Eirene. We don't have time. Wait until it feels like the ship has landed. There's a release on the inside that will open the panel. Come out when you think it's clear. Use your powers to guide you. You'll know if others are nearby."

  Her troubled eyes searched his face. "But what about you?"

  "I'll be fine," he lied. He would say anything to get her safely inside.

  "Jarek." She touched his face, and the force of his feelings hit him like a photon blast.

  He cared deeply for her, far more than he would ordinarily ever admit. Far more than he had ever cared for any woman. Spirit, he hated to leave her.

  He tossed her satchel into the compartment. Pulling her into his arms, he held her tightly for a moment of eternity that would never be long enough. Then he lifted her chin and kissed her, brief but deep, dipping inside her mouth for a taste of her to carry with him.

  The airlock tone sounded. Reluctantly, he released her, giving her a gentle shove. "Now get in there. Quickly."

  She stepped inside, turned to look at him. Ranie chattered, and he looked down to see the lanrax at his feet. He scooped her up and tossed her in with Eirene.

  "The compartment is soundproof. They won't be able to hear you in there. But you can hear them. There is a speaker on the inside panel that will allow you to monitor anyone who might be on board." He paused, drinking in one last look. He'd never see her again, at least not in this physical plane. "Use your powers. Spirit gave them to you for a purpose."

  Her unwavering gaze never left him as the panel swung shut. Relieved that she was safely hidden, he stepped into the corridor. He didn't want to end his life so close to where she was. Didn't want to draw Turlock's men to the galley, or for her possibly sense what was happening.

  He'd have been long gone from this existence by now, if her safety hadn't been of paramount importance, but he still had time to do what must be done. He figured Turlock's men would gas his ship before they boarded, to prevent him from firing upon them. It would give his system a nasty jolt, but it wouldn't matter, because the poison was fast acting.

  He slid the tiny capsule from his front pocket. Such a small thing to be so deadly. He thought of his sister and his mother, nieces and nephews; of his best friends, Sabin and Blake; of Eirene. He felt sadness, and regret—for so many things, especially for dragging her into this situation.

  No more time.

  Good-bye, Eirene. Be safe.

  He raised the capsule to his mouth.

  Chapter Ten

  The cycles spent in the compartment were the worst in Eirene's life, even though the conditions weren't that bad. Light strips provided faint illumination. She had sufficient food and water, and blankets to offer padding for sitting and resting. Ranie had been content enough, as long as she was being held or petted.

  But the horror of possible discovery and an untenable certainty about Jarek's fate gnawed at her incessantly. She couldn't stop thinking about how he had looked as the panel closed between them. His eyes had reflected a kaleidoscope of emotions, among them longing and desire. But it was the resignation she'd seen in those dark eyes that tore at her soul.

  He knew he wouldn't survive this encounter with the bounty hunters, despite his bravado. They had both known it, both known he was lying for her benefit. She felt certain he wouldn't allow himself to be captured alive, not with his knowledge of Shielder activities.

  A hero. Jarek san Ranul was a true hero, a type of man she'd never imagined existed until she escaped the confines of Travan. In the darkness of her cramped quarters, she finally admitted to herself how much she admired and respected him, how much he'd come to mean to her in the short time she had known him. She'd never imagined she could care for any man. Her experiences on Travan and Rayna's dire warnings had entrenched distrust from an early age.

  But Jarek had broken that mold, proven that Rayna's convictions didn't apply in every instance. He had captured her heart. And now he was gone. Eirene grieved during those long, dark hours in her hiding place. She grieved for Jarek, for the Shielder race that desperately needed his courage and vision, and for a world in dire need of healing.

  All she could do was remain in the compartment, occasionally listening to the cruel, harsh voices of the two men who had boarded the ship and were now taking it to Saron. She avoided touching them mentally, as they radiated evil, insidious vibrations.

  The ultimate irony of the situation was that Jarek's last act had given her what she'd wanted her entire life, what she'd wished for so adamantly while she'd been with him—a chance at freedom. With him gone, she finally understood that realizing a dream could bring pain as well as joy.

  The hours crawled past. She had no idea how long she'd been confined when a sharp angling of the ship and a lot of turbulence told her they were descending. Ranie squealed in alarm, and Eirene snuggled her close, remembering how the little creature had clung to Jarek's legs and arms, always anxious to be near him.

  The ship leveled out, and the hoverlifts switched on in a muted roar. The craft lowered until it jolted onto the landing pad. Moments later, the engines cut off, and an eerie silence replaced the noise. Eirene switched on the speakers and listened, anxious to know when the ship would be empty and she could leave.

  "Well, we made it," grunted a rough male voice.

  "No thanks to you, Keraat. I've seen a blind child fly a ship better than that."

  "Shut up, you son of an Antek. We're here aren't we? And we managed to take san Ranul alive. Turlock will be pleased."

  Alive? Jarek was alive? Eirene leaned against the wall, stunned.

  "He will, at that," the second man responded. "Alive, San Ranul is worth an extra five thousand miterons. Our take will be higher."

  Jarek was alive! She had assumed he would battle his captors, that he would be killed. Surely he would have found sacrificing his life preferable to being taken alive and creating greater risks for his people. Despite the dangers he now faced, she couldn't deny her happiness that he was living. Excitement buoyed her, gave her a surge of strength.

  "Wonder why he came along so easily, without a fight? Guess them stories of him being so dangerous was just rumors."

  "You never know. Ardonite gas takes the battle right out of 'em, even Shielders. Balen says san Ranul is still pretty indisposed."

 
Eirene's thoughts whirled as she considered the situation. Was there any way she could help him? She didn't know how to contact Sabin and Moriah, so she couldn't get outside help. She was on her own, assuming she was able to get off the ship without being seen. And assuming she could locate Jarek. Then she'd still have to get past the men guarding him, and find some way to get him free.

  Use your powers. His final words came back to her. He'd known she would face challenges, and he'd urged her to use her abilities.

  She was terrified of her powers, and with good reason. Rayna might still be alive, if not for her mistake. She had managed to heal Jarek without major mishap. She'd employed her powers again to escape from his ship on Elysia, although they hadn't worked very well on that attempt. The bottom line was, as dangerous as she knew her powers to be, she only dared use them when there was nothing left to lose.

  Jarek would be tortured and executed for certain if he couldn't get away from these bounty hunters. She would have to risk using her powers to help him. But first, she had to get off the ship and find him. Keeping the speaker on, Eirene settled down and waited. She heard the men shuffling around and muttering to each other.

  This time she deliberately reached out, tapping into their thoughts and energies, in the hopes they would lead her to Jarek. They were dark, depraved beings, and she wanted to cringe away from them, but she persisted, although she gleaned no usable information.

  After a while, their voices faded away, as did their energy patterns. The ship was silent. She did another mental sweep, feeling nothing. They were gone.

  She scrambled from her hiding place, determined to leave quickly and follow. But she was stiff from her cramped quarters, and the galley's bright light painfully bombarded her eyes. Squinting, she groped for her satchel.

  Ranie chattered anxiously. Eirene briefly considered leaving the lanrax there, but decided against it. She might not get back to the ship, or the men might return. She made a quick stop in the cockpit to retrieve Ranie's padded knapsack and slipped the protesting lanrax inside.

  She bolted off the ship, grateful no one stood on guard. She glanced in all directions, trying to pick up the two men. Too many ships crowded the landing bay, and a good number of beings were milling around. She couldn't lose the men, or she'd never find Jarek. She closed her eyes and stood still, concentrating, reaching. She picked up a lot of energies, much of it degenerate, but she was learning to distinguish individual patterns.

  There—the same tainted energy she'd felt on Jarek's ship. She whirled around, her focus honing on two walking men, already halfway across the landing bay. She took off at a full run, zigzagging through the crowd. Ranie squealed in alarm.

  Spirit, don't let them get away, she prayed. She ran until her lungs burned, yet still lagged behind the men. They turned up a ramp, entering a red-and-black ship several pads down. She slowed, gasping for breath, and approached the ship cautiously, Ranie still squealing.

  "Hush," she admonished, and the lanrax calmed somewhat.

  Eirene stared at the ship the men had entered. She needed a plan. And fast.

  * * *

  Lani's high heels tapped down the gleaming corridor. She glanced around in satisfaction. The Leors employed abhorrent color schemes in their ships, either orange or red—or in some appalling cases, both. But even such an awful decor looked better when it was properly maintained. Gunnar had assigned Karr and Feron to daily cleanup detail, much to their disgust, and to snickering from the other two crew members.

  The regimen wouldn't hurt them in the least, Lani thought. While the Leors were highly disciplined about physical fitness and battle readiness, they were sadly lacking in other areas. For one thing, they were uptight, pompous, and unimaginative. They never enjoyed any amusement activities, as far as she could tell.

  She pursed her lips. She was utterly bored. This last part of her vacation wasn't nearly as interesting as she had hoped it would be, with the exception of Gunnar. The only time she had any fun at all was when she verbally sparred with him.

  Pausing outside his council chamber, she smoothed her simple Saija silk shift. The Leors kept the temperature on the ship much too high. She understood the reason, having done some extensive research on them since she'd been on board.

  Leors descended from a race of beings resulting from a reptilian species crossbreeding with humanoids. They didn't have internal temperature regulators and relied on external heat sources. Their special skin absorbed heat readily, so they wore minimal clothing and kept their environment very warm. Lani found all this fascinating, but it didn't make her any more comfortable.

  She'd been forced to abandon her robes and most of her feathers. She now wore her skimpiest clothing, and today, she'd put her hair up, sacrificing fashion in the interest of comfort. After all, she was highly adaptable, much more flexible than these ultraprimitive males. She sounded the panel tone.

  "Enter," Gunnar called in his guttural voice.

  She opened the entry and strolled in. Gunnar sat at a massive table, with Karr and Marat flanking him. He looked up and scowled. He always did that when he saw her, and it was beginning to annoy her greatly. "You're interrupting an important tactical meeting," he growled. "What do you want?"

  "There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

  All three men groaned. "It will have to wait." Gunnar turned back to Karr and Marat.

  She had been patient long enough. "It can't wait. I'd like to get started on my plans immediately."

  "Her plans." Gunnar sat back, rolling his eyes. "Goddess spare me!"

  She crossed her arms over her chest. "You might as well hear me out, Commander. Avoidance will not make a problem go away."

  "It might if I jettison that problem into outer space."

  "That's very childish, Commander. I expected better from you."

  She knew he'd rise to her challenge. His eyes narrowing, he snapped his fingers. Karr and Marat rose stiffly, bowing slightly toward him. They departed with backward glances and snorts of disgust. "Sit," Gunnar rumbled.

  Lani took the chair to his right, and he swiveled toward her. Leors wore leggings and boots when they dealt with the more conservative races of the quadrant. But on their planets and their ships, they wore virtually nothing, just loincloths. With his magnificent physique, Gunnar certainly didn't need clothing to give him presence.

  He filled a chair better than any man she'd ever seen. He leaned back slightly, giving the appearance of being relaxed, but the ripple of muscles in his bare chest and bulging biceps indicated he was alert, ready to take action at a moment's notice.

  He sat with his feet planted solidly on the floor and his legs spread in a masculine stance that sent Lani’s heart into freefall. His hairless, supple skin heightened the effect, emphasizing his massive, muscular thighs—and the massive bulge beneath the loincloth. Oh, my. It was way too hot in here. She snapped open her feathered fan and fluttered it near her flushed face.

  "What did you come to carp about this time, woman?"

  She forced her attention back to Gunnar's hostile black eyes. He might have a body that would affect even the most jaded courtesan, but he needed to work on the attitude—and the manners.

  "I hate to be rude, but this leg of my vacation has been very disappointing. Quite boring, I'm sorry to say. I haven't had anyone to talk to, and there's been absolutely no adventure, not even a small skirmish. "

  He stared at her in disbelief. "You expect to be amused? Perhaps you would like me to attack another ship so you can have some excitement?"

  "Certainly not. But if you just happened to cross paths with an enemy, or wished to negotiate a trade deal, for a new bride, perhaps, that would be interesting."

  "I am not looking for another bride," he growled. "I do not wish to experience another female's treachery. I am concerned only with protecting Leor territories and interests, not entertaining a foolish woman dressed like a bird. How many times must I remind you that you are a hostage?"

  She w
aved a hand dismissively. "A mere formality, in order for you to save face. You know Celie wouldn't lie to you. And while it's been somewhat interesting to be a hostage, I need to get back to work. I don't have unlimited funds, you know."

  "A mere formality? You have much to learn about Leor ways, woman. You will not dictate your release, or anything else, to me."

  He was being thickheaded and unreasonable, as usual. "Listen, Mister Cave Dweller, you can't expect me to stay here under these dull conditions. Plus I have responsibilities, and a job to return to."

  "You have a job?" he sneered. "I cannot imagine you possessing any useful skills. Can you pilot a ship, or defeat an opponent in combat, or replicate weapons? Can you plan tactical maneuvers, or heal wounded warriors?"

  Lani was oddly stung by his scorn, although she knew the Leors valued only those skills relating directly to their way of life. Her research on them had been most revealing. For the most part, developing trade routes, expanding their territories, and battling fiercely to protect their interests comprised their entire existence.

  They placed a high value on honor and justice, something she admired. But, oh, they were stubborn, insensitive brutes—at least the men were. She hadn't met any Leor women, so wasn't prepared to pass judgment on them.

  "No, I can't do those things," she replied. "But what I do is very important."

  "And what is that?"

  She paused, not at all certain how he'd take the answer. Oddly enough, in addition to admiring honor and bravery, the Leors also valued chastity. As a rule, they didn't engage in sexual activities until they were mated. They looked upon abstinence as a discipline, and believed channeling their sexual energy into their physical training made them better warriors.

  She happened to disagree, but questioned the wisdom of telling Gunnar she was a courtesan. Not that she was ashamed of what she did. She provided a vital service, and thoroughly enjoyed herself in the process, but Gunnar was difficult enough as it was. "You might say I'm in the entertainment field."