Flight To Exile

by Chris Reher

  “Yes, I saw your little romp in that cave. It was entertaining. You’re a talented—” She interrupted herself. “You two aren’t still playing head games, are you?”

  A distant smile played over his lips when he recalled some of the moments he had shared with Aletha. He did not display those to the La’il, knowing that his new skill for hiding things infuriated her beyond endurance. “Can’t help it. I swear I didn’t show her, but she can whip up a chi spike that would make even you blush. Last night, when I was about to—”

  “You are playing with fire, Galen! How dare you risk yourself. What if she damages you? You don’t have enough chi to get out of trouble.”

  “We don’t have enough chi to get into trouble,” he replied, but her words worried him. Aletha now accomplished with ease tasks that even on the Homeworld required a high level adept. Knowing that she would soon have nearly unlimited resources to use as she wished, he tried to curb her excitement and instill upon her the need to move cautiously, to understand a thing absolutely before subjecting it to the power of her mind. But already he felt her impatience with his vigilance, aware of her growing confidence in her abilities and her desire to forge ahead. The La’il was right; a disastrous mishap on Aletha’s part would be beyond his skill to remedy.

  “I can handle it,” he said finally, wondering what she would say if she knew how far their head games went beyond the bedroom. “I’m not showing her anything harmful. She’s not even interested. She could be a great healer or mentor but she will never play your war games. I don’t know how you’ll get her to oppose Chenoweth.”

  “Leave that to me.” She tilted her head and observed him thoughtfully. “You know, there is something I meant to tell you earlier, but you know how busy I am.”

  “Tell me what?”

  Her form hovered in front of him, her size nearly true to his. She touched his chest to send an icy jolt through his body. When she floated closer to him he felt her breath against his ear. It was cold. “Your time is running out. Yours and Chor's. The longer you’re up there, the less likely I'll be able to restore you. I don't suggest you take a liking to Thali. That moon has ways of changing people, physically, like it changed all of them over the past thousand years. If you change, either of you, or both, I won't be able to help you.”

  “You knew this and you said nothing?”

  “You were only to be gone a few days. Leave for the launch tomorrow.” A cruel smile touched her lips. “You have no choice, Galen. In this or anything else. You never did.”

  “Don’t be so sure!” he snapped.

  “You’ve tried to defy me before, and failed,” she said. “I can get to you no matter where you are.”

  “Getting harder, though, isn’t it?” he said. “I can beat you, La’il.”

  She laughed. “You’re not even close to that.” Her hand stabbed out to grip his throat. Remembering Aletha’s theory that La’il was perhaps benefiting from the rage she was able to provoke in him, Galen fought against his instincts and remained motionless, his eyes on her. Unbelievably, her arm met with no resistance and her incorporeal hand passed through his neck.

  Galen looked down at her pale arm and a slow grin formed on his face. “I will beat you, Goddess. In time.”

  She withdrew her hand, astonished by what had just taken place, and decided to change her tactics. “If these tricks amuse you, so be it. Did I mention the problem with Aletha?”

  “What problem?”

  “I didn’t want to mention this before, but it might not be possible for me to restore her to the size she was meant to be. She’s been on Thali for a very long time.” She arranged her fine features into a tragic, wide-eyed expression. “I’ve consulted with the primes day and night! There just won’t be anything to work with! Failure on our part could cost her life.” She sighed and gestured as if to pat his shoulder in commiseration. “So that means, of course, once you’ve returned home and I’ve restored your body to what it was, you will be a giant to her. Obviously, you cannot continue your... dalliance with her.”

  “Dalliance!” He swung his arm to push her away. His hand met with nothing yet the gesture was not lost on the La’il. “You knew this would happen when she gets home! What will become of her?”

  “Of her?” La’il snapped. “She will save your world, Galen. She’ll be short but she’ll have saved almost ten million people!”

  “Then let her return here when you’re done with her. At least here she fits in.”

  La’il sighed. “Must you be melodramatic? Do you really think she’d be willing to give up the things I will show her just because she can’t reach the light switch? For what? Avoiding the local imbeciles bent on exorcising devils? Have you completely lost your mind?” She peered at him more closely. “You know, I believe you have. You are in love with the girl!”

  “Don’t be absurd.”

  Her silver eyes flashed at him, her laughter a tinkling of bells. “I've warned you, Galen. Don't get involved. The last thing I need is your broken heart to mend.”

  He snarled at her, knowing that she was right. He had begun to imagine ways of staying with Aletha once back on the Homeworld, from vaguely seeing himself sharing whatever golden cage the La’il was preparing for her, to considering an escape to some distant part of the planet. Wishful thinking, he understood now, easily dreamed up and impossible to realize. Not because he would be restored to his former size, but because the La'il would make certain he would never see Aletha again. “Some day, La’il...”

  “Some day I hope you come to your senses! Don’t you understand what lies ahead of her? She will have anything and anyone she wants. You’re just another adept among many. Do you really think once I’ve shown her all that is possible for her she will bother with someone like you?” La’il reconsidered. “Well, perhaps she might. You’re an appealing diversion when properly motivated.”

  “I doubt your perversions interest her. She is nothing like you.”

  “She is exactly like me! My sister, remember?” La’il laughed. “Consider this for a moment: Why do you give a damn about what happens to Aletha? You’ve only known her a few days and you’re infatuated. There are a hundred pretty women here ready to share your bed, some of them also powerful adepts. Has it ever occurred to you that Aletha is making you feel the way you do? On purpose?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s been in your head. You know exactly what I mean. Since when do you care who’s in your bed, as long as it’s female and decently adept? How do you know you really feel the way you do about Aletha? Maybe she put those thoughts there. She’s playing with you. You’re no stranger to having your synapses scrambled. Does this not feel familiar?”

  “Nonsense. I’d know the difference,” he said but an edge of doubt lined his words. Would he know the difference? When the La’il rode him, the false emotions instilled by her powerful mind seemed completely his own. At those times some vile monster seemed to be in control of his actions, oblivious that it was not part of his true nature. It never felt wrong at the time. Was he equally oblivious now to Aletha’s influence? “Why would she do that?”

  The La’il shrugged. “She’s done it. In that cave, remember? Maybe she likes it; I know I do.”

  Galen glared at her, considering the possibility with rising unease. He was drawn to Aletha. Incredibly so. Certainly, when their minds touched, there was no place he’d rather be, nothing he’d rather be doing than to be with her at that moment. She seemed to belong in his thoughts and he felt incomplete when they were separated. La’il was perhaps right to question his inefficiency in carrying out his mission on Thali. Every minute wasted on this journey meant another minute spent with Aletha, far away from their obligations on the Homeworld. “You’re lying,” he snapped, furious at her for putting these doubts in his mind. “She would not do this.”

  “You have no idea what she’s capable of.” La’il hovered close to him, her words a sibilant whisper in his thoughts. “How does
it feel to be inside her mind, letting her touch you like that? How can it be real?”

  He closed his eyes but that did not remove his tormentor from his sight.

  La’il smiled when she touched him and her hands met his body, firm and unyielding – corporeal once again. “It isn’t real because she put it there.”

  He pushed her hands away and came to his feet.

  “Do I have to tell you that this adorable new weakness you have for the girl is giving me another weapon against you? You’re making this too easy. Tell me, do you ever get tired of being played like a puppet?”

  “You are going too far!”

  She closed her eyes, perceiving his anger, drawing it into herself like a surge of chi’ro. “Yes, I am.”

  He felt her reach for him, probe into his mind, entice his rage to let it flow from him to her as if along a strong, throbbing pulse of energy. He tried to look away but she seemed to be everywhere, too close to him, too easily touched. Emotions that did not belong to him flashed through his brain and the battle for his mind commenced once again. Although adept, he was a soldier and trained like one and so their struggle was one of physical imagery. He saw himself throwing her to the floor of the cabin to wrap his hands around her slender throat, her body trapped beneath his, helpless. But here, as in reality, her strength equaled his, fuelled by the power of her planet, and she was able to throw him off and spring to her feet. His only thought, his mind’s only solution, was to kill her and with that free himself of her dominance. Even through the rage robbing him of all rational thought he understood that his fury only increased her power, tightening her control over him. But it was too late to stop now.

  “Still think you can beat me?” La’il taunted. “You need this. Admit it.”

  He pushed her into a corner of the hut, both of them utterly unaware of the thousands of miles separating them. When he pinned her against the wall with his body, her hand on his chest curled into a claw and her nails dug deeply into his skin. She was unprepared when he recoiled to hurl her across the cabin to his waiting twin. Chor twisted her arms behind her, forcing from her a yelp of surprise and, Galen hoped, pain.

  “Didn’t count on that, did you?” Chor rasped.

  La’il strained away from him. “This makes no difference,” she hissed at Galen, pleased to see the blood-filled crescents left by her nails. “Just remember that you brought him into this, I didn’t.”

  Chor shoved her at his twin. “We’ll all remember. Let’s make this a night to remember.” Galen wondered if the cold, unthinking malice on his twin’s face was also written on his own.

  Suddenly, unbidden, Aletha came into his mind as if he had called her and she had replied in startled surprise. Her image was like a cool breeze wafting into an unbearably stifling room and he clung to it, trusting her to pull him into the light and air that she seemed to be made of. It took no more than this shift of attention to break free from the La’il. Her piercing wail of protest drove into his brain when he withdrew to lock her out with one brutal blow from his mind to hers.

  He counted many pounding beats of his heart before he dared to open his eyes. Cold sweat covered his heaving chest and his limbs thrummed from some great exertion although he had not moved a muscle during this encounter. He was in darkness, the glowing vision of the La'il dissipated, replaced by a foggy sense of vertigo making it hard to remember where he was, or who, or why.

  He became aware of light footsteps hurrying along the walkway outside. A moment later, Aletha came into the hut, carrying a torch. He watched her enter, her face obscured by flickering shadows and thick curls. His lip twitched in a fleeting snarl. Why had she interrupted them, he thought resentfully, his fists digging into the sleeping mat beneath him. Why did she have to interfere?

  “Galen?” She placed the torch onto the hut’s brazier and crouched beside him, worried. “I felt you, like you were in pain, all the way to Minh's lodge.” She drew back with a startled yelp when she felt anger radiate from him like heat. “Hey! What’s this about?”

  “La’il came by.” He sat up slowly, with effort.

  She leaned forward and moved her face up along his chest and into the curve of his neck, hovering closely as if searching for some scent. “Anger, hate, fading now.” She closed her eyes, her breath touching his skin. “Must have been terrible, earlier. It’s powerful, like something I can touch. I think I can...” After a moment she shuddered and shook her head. “Sorry, but you taste awful. How can she like this? Personally, I prefer you in a happy frame of mind.”

  “I bet you do.”

  She took in a breath, about to say something, but then cut off her retort. “Yeah, I do,” she said instead. She touched his shoulder, feeling the tense muscles beneath his skin. “Besides, your neck gets all veiny when you’re mad. Looks painful.”

  He exhaled forcefully, the spell broken. “I’m sorry. Don’t know why I said that.” He shook his head to clear away the memory of what had just happened here. “She’s worse in my head than she is in person.”

  She moved over to where Chor sprawled semi-conscious on the floor. He groaned when she helped him sit up. Concerned, she stroked the tousled hair from his face and then turned back to Galen. “Are you okay now? You’re shaking. Does she have to keep at you like that?”

  He looked down at himself and saw no bloody indentations where La’il had clawed him. All that remained were some small red spots, quickly fading from view. “I’m beginning to see a way to throw her off. Once I got a hold of you I was able to shut her out. I'm getting there. I think I hurt her. She’s furious. Unfortunately, an angry La'il is worse than a bored one.”

  “What did she want?”

  “She is getting impatient. She wants us home. You didn't tell Minh about her, did you?”

  Aletha shook her head. “No, I wouldn't even know how to begin.” She looked over to his twin. “You okay now, Chor?”

  “Fine,” he replied. “We have to travel on. If you're done here let's continue north.” He came unsteadily to his feet and ducked through the door to find sleep in his own room.

  “Why is she in such a hurry?” Aletha said to Galen. “Is this war about to begin? Why are you two in such a rush to get back there if she is so cruel to you?”

  “Chor and I can't stay here. There is something that affects humans here. She told me if we stay here too long we might not ever go back.”

  She swung a leg over his and sat on his lap. “We'll leave in the morning.” She kissed him while her hands sought to soothe his taut muscles. “When all of this is over, we have to get you free of that La’il. Both of you. Try to relax now.”

  He drew her close and returned her kiss, far less gently. Aletha responded readily but he knew he was holding her too tight, touching her too roughly. Thoughts of the La’il crept into his mind and he shuddered when he thought about where his mental battle with her had been leading. She had brought him down easily this time. Dismayed, he realized that his hand in Aletha’s hair had tightened into a fist and, worse, that she was gathering a little ambient chi’ro to meet the demands of his too-tense body. With prodigious effort, he pulled away from her. “Not like this,” he gasped. “Not you.”

  “It’ll be all right. Let me help you.” She reached for him but he caught her hands in his and kissed them before leaving their bed.

  “I’m going down to the lagoon for a swim. Chor’s on fire, too,” he added with a lopsided grin. “It’s… distracting. Don’t wait up.”

  Chapter Ten

  It was barely dawn when Galen awoke to the sound of the children outside as he had every morning since they had arrived at the village. He blinked into a beam of bright sunlight filtering down between the trees and into the dim comfort of their hut, yesterday’s episode with the La’il fading from his mind like the nightmare it had been. He stretched lazily, feeling content, and turned toward Aletha curled up beside him. He leaned over her and buried his face in her disheveled hair, breathing of her scent. By his calculation
it would take at least three days to reach the mountains, perhaps another to find the gate. Four more days of this loving and lighthearted woman who was destined to become as powerful as the La'il, perhaps learn cruelty and selfish vanity along with the knowledge to control everything that existed on the Homeworld. Four more days before she learned that her future did not include him. Would it matter to her? Now it did, perhaps, on their carefree journey through Thali’s beautiful wilderness, but the La’il was right: Once Aletha discovered the true extent of her abilities, the prospect of losing his company would not bother her for long.

  “Why are you growling in my ear?” Aletha mumbled sleepily.

  He smiled and pulled back to look into her face. “I was purring.” He nuzzled her neck and let his hand journey along her body.

  “What is making you purr?”

  “Probably your hand there is making me purr,” he replied, stifling a moan.

  She moved her hand again. “That hand?”

  “Yeah, that one.” His lips touched her breast. “How would you like to learn another new and interesting use for chi’ro?”

  Aletha smiled and waited expectantly for his demonstration. He groaned loudly when a polite scratching noise near the door announced a visitor.

  “Pardon me, please,” a woman's voice intoned outside when no one answered her signal. “But Minh has asked to see the brothers immediately, please.”

  Aletha tried to sit up. “They’ll be there at once!”

  “Can't it wait?” Galen asked her navel.

  She pulled the blanket away from him and gave him a little shove. “Come, get up. Wake Chor. If Minh wants to see you then you go to her. That’s the way it is here.”

  “And I suppose you get to sleep another hour.” After tossing his hair into some semblance of order, he tied a blue kilt around his waist and shrugged into a shirt.

  Aletha blinked into the daylight entering the lodge when the mat covering the doorway was taken away. “Hey, you,” she shouted at Chor. “I’m not dressed.”