Triangle

by Sara L Daigle

  Ketiana found her voice, but it took a moment. “Worse,” she said. “What the hell have you done to yourself?! Your aura … it looks really wrong.”

  Merran winced. He’d forgotten that his aura probably looked strange, if what he’d witnessed when Ki’i merged with Jamian in his office was any indication. He knew better than this—if Ketiana figured out what she was seeing, he could be in deep trouble with his superiors. The umanaarya distaste for the merging and the urro-ken was deep-seated and illogical, buried in a past that no one could remember, even in legend, but it existed, and Merran understood this well. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Fortunately, it appeared that Ketiana didn’t know exactly what she was looking at, and her reaction was more because of concern rather than the disgust fellow Azellians usually directed at the urro-ken. “It’s nothing. I just got a little drunk last night.”

  “Alcohol doesn’t change the color of your aura, Merran. What did you drink, poison?”

  Merran shrugged, the heater whirring on with a click, spilling a draft of warmish air across his bare shoulders. He got to his feet, dragging the sheet behind him. Although Ketiana was Azellian and nudity was not really a problem, given his vulnerability recently and her tendencies to mother him, he wanted some cover. It didn’t help that he could still feel Ki’i entwined with his psyche. Let me handle this, he sent to the Dorbin. Please. Ki’i sent affirmation in return, a bubble of amusement filling their shared body. It helped.

  “There may have been other substances involved.” From how his body felt, there hadn’t been anything but alcohol, but it was better that Ketiana think he’d experimented with something rather than learn that he’d allowed another being to take over his body, especially without any restrictions, limits, or boundaries. Merran knew Jamian, with his Keeper training and perspective, would have handled finding him like this better, but, then again, Jamian wouldn’t have come looking for him in the first place, so he was back to wondering why she was here. “Nothing to worry about. It will go back to normal soon. Why were you looking for me? How did you know where to find me?”

  Ketiana moved to sit next to the flat-screen TV on the long dresser. She tapped her forehead. “My Dorvath clairvoyance gave me a warning that I needed to find you. Tracking you down wasn’t easy, because whatever you did to your aura also changed the shape of your mind, but once I got to the right part of town, all I had to do was follow the trail of the man who was causing trouble, dancing on tables, inciting fights, and trying to pick up women and men. I found you last night, but since you had a woman with you, and you brought her to a hotel, I figured I’d leave you alone until your date left this morning.”

  Merran swore in jygar.

  A smile tugged at her lips. “Men? I didn’t know you were interested in men.”

  “Hah,” Merran grumbled, mentally cursing himself for letting Ki’i take the wheel and drive without having first negotiated what he could and could not do. It had felt good to no longer have direct contact with his physical body and emotions, especially the ache of releasing Tamara, but leaving the Dorbin in total control of his body had been a terrible idea. Another little bubble of something—he’d call it Ki’i’s amusement rather than last night’s dinner—danced at the base of his esophagus, and he had to swallow hard. “Was I recognized?”

  “I wouldn’t have recognized you, so probably not, no—the only saving grace after a stunt like that.” She studied him for a moment. “I know it hurts about Tamara, but you can’t keep doing this, Mer. You’re not thinking straight. I think you should take some time off.”

  Merran hated to admit it, but Ketiana was probably right. Letting the Dorbin, with its alien mores and thought patterns, take over his body completely, without consideration for the possible consequences, had been very risky—and definitely not something he normally would have done. If he could keep Ketiana from realizing that his lack of judgment was far worse than she knew, he could also maybe keep her from reporting him to the Council. That particular result didn’t bear thinking about. The Azellian Council would recall him and he’d be exiled back to the outer caves for allowing another being to merge with him like this.

  “Time off?” Greg had mentioned taking time off, and he’d considered it seriously enough to come up with an idea of how he could manage it. At the time, though, he’d decided against it because of the outstanding negotiation with Ki’i, but after last night, if Ki’i had any further questions, they could wait to discuss details.

  “Time off. You know. Away from the embassy. Give yourself a chance to get some perspective. Three months would be good. I know you have the vacation time built up. We each get six weeks a year and you haven’t taken a vacation in three years?”

  Merran blinked. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can afford to take that much time off. And I have to be back here before Festival. It’s hard to tell when the winter storms will let up on Azelle, but it will definitely happen within the next three months.” He gave her a sharp look. “Unless you’d like to have me celebrate Festival among humans?”

  “Two-and-a-half then. This is not just a vacation, Merran. How long has it been since you’ve gone without any worries or concerns of any kind? How long has it been since you’ve taken time to do whatever you want and not had to make any more earth-shaking decisions than what clothes to wear or where to eat lunch? How do you expect to make any big decisions in the future, if you don’t make the time to connect with yourself first … especially now?”

  Merran took a deep breath and let her think she’d talked him into it, although the evening with Ki’i had pretty much made him realize he could use some time off. “All right, fine. I’ll go on an extended ski trip and be back before Festival starts. No commitment on exact time though. I want to be sure I don’t chance getting caught away from the embassy.”

  Ketiana raised an eyebrow. “Skiing?

  Merran shrugged. “I’ll start there.”

  Ketiana studied him for a moment. “Aspen?”

  “I don’t think so. I know the security is better in Aspen, but there are always too many celebrities and just as many reporters there. I may move in those circles regularly as the ambassador, but if I’m truly going to take time for myself, I need to be in a place where we can hide my presence. If I’m getting away, I’m getting away. It will give me the chance to be a nobody for the first time in years.”

  Ketiana looked at his hair and face. “You’re not going to have much luck at hiding those features, Mer. You’re too well known as it is. Wherever you go, you’re going to have an entourage of reporters.”

  Merran reached up and tugged on his hair. “Was I recognized last night? I was here in east Denver, without a single disguise, and you said no one recognized me. Why? Because they didn’t expect to see me in such a place. But to be safe, I can grow my hair long and dye it, and let my beard grow too,” he added as he conjured an image in his mind’s eye. “I’ll vaguely resemble me, but since no one expects the Azellian ambassador to be a ski bum, and if I don’t act like Merran Corina, they’ll never figure it out. People see what they expect to see, and nothing else. My accent is good enough that I can get away with speaking English and not be identified as an alien, and my psi, well, I’m quite used to being discreet.”

  Ketiana gave him a strange look. “You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?”

  “I’ve thought about how I could be a regular person before, yes. I just never prioritized it.”

  “Do you think you’ll go back to Azelle at all?”

  Merran shrugged. “Probably not. I can’t be anonymous on Azelle. Too difficult to dodge mind readers, and I don’t think there is a single person on Azelle who doesn’t know who I am. Humans are more fun anyway.”

  Ketiana snorted. “It’s your vacation. Just don’t break too many hearts, will you? I’ll see which bodyguard I can assign—”

  “No. I’ll go alone.”

  “You can’t,” Ketiana protested, shocked at the suggestion. �
�I suggested you get away, but I can’t send you out alone!”

  “I go alone, Katie. I can’t be anonymous with a bodyguard. You know that as well as I do. I’ll be fine. My psi is quite strong enough to warn me about people who want to cause me harm. And if no one recognizes me, then I don’t need a bodyguard. I’m far from helpless.”

  Ketiana threw her arms in the air. “I’ll get censured for this. The Council will be horrified if they find out you went away completely unprotected.”

  Merran shook his head. “You obeyed a direct order from me. Since I’m doing as you asked, you aren’t going to report my lack of judgment and I am still your direct superior.”

  Ketiana glared at him. “You’re impossible.” She took a deep breath. “At least give me a rough idea where you are while you’re gone, will you? So I know we don’t have to search for your replacement.”

  “You’ll know where I am at all times. I’ll even call you every now and again.”

  Ketiana was silent for a moment. “I don’t …”

  “Ah, Katie. You’re absolutely wonderful. I’d kiss you if I didn’t stink. Thank you for being so supportive while I try to work through … all this insanity.” He looked down at himself. “I need to shower and get out of here. See you later, at the office?”

  “Fine.” Ketiana stood up and moved to the door. “Fine.” She stopped and looked over a shoulder. “You sure you don’t want me to stay?”

  She didn’t mean it as a sexual innuendo; he clearly read her distrust that he would do as he said. It wasn’t a surprise she didn’t trust him. He wasn’t sure he trusted himself after last night’s ridiculous stunts. “No, I’m fine, thanks,” Merran replied, turning for the bathroom door and stepping inside as he closed it behind him firmly. As soon as he sensed she had left, he leaned against the counter and said, “All right, Ki’i, fun’s over.”

  The Dorbin left him, pulling free of Merran’s psyche slowly, the sensation sending shivers through Merran’s body, reminding him that the experience hadn’t been all bad.

  “Thank you for a very fun evening,” Ki’i said, appearing as a shimmery spot at the corner of the bathroom. The being motioned toward the outer room. “Your people really do not like the merging. I could feel your fear that your assistant would realize my presence with you.”

  “I could be recalled and exiled for it.”

  “I may not understand, but I accept that it is. I will leave you now so you can begin your well-deserved vacation. Shall I coordinate a visit to Dorbin with your assistant Ketiana?”

  “No, you’re going to work directly with Jamian, who you met.”

  “Agreed. Thank you, Merran.” The being disappeared through the wall, dissolving from Merran’s sight and mental awareness.

  As soon as Ki’i left, Merran stared at himself in the mirror. Had his breakup with Tamara truly affected his judgment? Or had something else been working through him? It might have taken a weird night of possessed debauchery, but he’d managed to do what no other Azellian ever had: he’d gotten the Dorbin to agree to share their psi-sensitive plants. The urro-ken weren’t allowed off Azelle—or very rarely allowed off Azelle, much less given positions like his—yet it was his urro-ken background that had paved the way for this triumph. Take that all you Azellians who have ever held my heritage against me, he thought to himself, with a sudden grin. The irony of it is actually funny. He shook his head and climbed into the shower. Do you see, Mama? he asked the silence in his mind. I did something no other umanaarya could do, and I did it because I am urro-ken. Can I bridge the gap between us? Is it possible? As he lathered his hair, the shining possibility he’d glimpsed in his office showed itself. Kyarinal, he murmured to himself as he ducked his head under the strong spray of water, feeling the soap slide down his face and neck. What is possible becomes possible. I wonder where it will take us. He finished his shower and dried off, the glimpse into the future fading back into obscurity, as he got dressed and checked out of the hotel.

  Several hours later, after a long and very satisfying conversation with Jamian about his hopes and plans for the Dorbin psi-sensitive plants, and after successfully getting in and out of the embassy before Tamara came in for her shift, he headed into the mountains toward the condo Ketiana had rented for him. Suddenly feeling younger and stronger than he had in years, Merran whistled a cheerful tune as he leaned back and drove the car he’d borrowed toward the mountains and freedom.

  Tamara let time pass in a haze of schoolwork. She avoided the new Azellians scrupulously, and her life settled into something resembling a routine. Even at her internship, she managed to keep herself fairly isolated, working primarily with Janille. Much to her relief, Merran didn’t make an appearance, called offworld according to Ketiana, who seemed to step into his shoes easily. Tamara stayed out of the political wrangling that surrounded Ketiana’s sudden ascension and refused to speculate with the rest of the staff as to why Merran had left so abruptly. Even Alarin’s incessant sexual demands on her eased as he relaxed—just as she’d hoped they would. She prayed that everything would stay calm in her life, at least for a while.

  Late one afternoon, she was seated at the kitchen table in Alarin’s apartment, studying between classes. She’d pretty much given up her room completely to Kari, who had moved out of hers and into Tamara’s, seeking privacy away from her roommate. Unexpectedly, Tamara heard the apartment door lock turn and Alarin walk in.

  “Hey,” she said, looking up to see him. “You’re home early. I thought you had a study group.”

  “I forgot my chemistry book.” He came over, kissed her rather distractedly, and grabbed the heavy book from the pass-through countertop.

  “You going to be home for dinner?”

  He shook his head. “Probably not. We have a huge midterm coming up and we need to put several hours of studying in. I might even be late tonight. Depends on how much we get done. Francyne is having trouble with English and I’m having to coach her through it.” He threw the comment over a shoulder as he turned to leave.

  “Francyne?” Tamara asked as an odd feeling spread through her. “Francyne Corvik? The Azellian bit—woman we met at the beginning of the semester?”

  Alarin nodded, giving her a strange look, probably because despite her effort to cut off the expletive, he heard it anyway. “She’s in the advanced chemistry class with me. She knows her stuff, let me tell you, but because she’s got the language handicap, I’ve been tutoring her in English. I thought I told you that.”

  “You told me you had a study group.” Tamara wasn’t sure which bothered her more—that he hadn’t told her tutoring Francyne was the study group or that he was tutoring Francyne. “I thought that meant you had a study group, not that you were tutoring Francyne alone.”

  Alarin raised his eyebrow. “What’s got you all upset? It is a study group. We’re at the library, studying. There are two of us, which constitutes a group.”

  Tamara glared at him. She hated it when he split hairs and made her feel like the one who was overreacting. He hadn’t told her about his tutoring of Francyne, and she suddenly decided that bothered her more than knowing he was tutoring her. She could still remember Francyne’s suggestive comment that she would like to get to know Alarin better. And now she had—and Tamara hadn’t even known about it. Could she trust Alarin? Was he doing things he shouldn’t be doing? Had he done things with Francyne that Tamara wouldn’t approve of? Jealousy raged through her, and she felt helpless against the roar of it.

  “What?” He’d picked up on her emotions—their bond was undoubtedly making her transparent to him. “Are you mad that I am part of a study group or that it’s with Francyne?” He put his book on the table. She saw his temper ignite. “Excuse me if I am just a little homesick and want to spend time with Azellians once in a while. Greg’s gone and Merran and I still have some things to work out before I can spend time with him. Who do you expect I’m going to hang out with if not the new students? Do you want me to feel more like an exile
than I already do?”

  “No, of course not,” Tamara replied, feeling tears prick at the back of her eyes, guilt adding to the jealousy until she felt so terrible that she didn’t know what to think. Did he really feel like he was that isolated? “I just—“

  “Just what? Are just so suspicious of me that you think I would betray our relationship? I can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

  “I am not saying that. I do trust you. I don’t trust her after how she treated me when we first met, but I trust you. But you still should have told me you were tutoring Francyne.”

  “Are you saying I purposely tried to keep something from you?” Alarin pulled himself up to his full height, and she could feel the surge of hurt. “Fine. I’m going to tutor Francyne. I’ll be back later.” He grabbed his book and stalked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

  After he left, Tamara burst into furious, heartbroken tears, sobbing too hard to see straight. She gasped for breath, muttering to herself as she made her way to the bathroom, so angry and scared she could hardly think. How had they gotten from it being his fault for not telling her about Francyne to her fault that she didn’t want him to spend time with his fellow Azellians? She screamed in frustration, throwing the bottle of shampoo that got in her way, then collapsed to the floor, swearing and sobbing.

  The fit took a while to cool off, but she finally got herself back together, feeling drained, exhausted, and shell-shocked. Kari. She had to talk to Kari. They could go over to The Grill and get something to eat and talk about what assholes men were. Wiping off her face and staring at herself in the mirror—she looked pale and wide-eyed, but normal enough—she pulled on her coat and left the apartment, going across campus to the room that had been hers until recently. She kept her mind carefully blank as she walked.

  She didn’t scan ahead of herself and slipped the key into the lock without checking the room first. She pushed the door open and stared in shock. Kari was sitting on top of a young man—she recognized Damiar belatedly—and they were quite enthusiastically going at it, even though they were both fully dressed. Kari was making sounds, echoed by Damiar. It was quite obvious that either Damiar had come to terms with his lover on Azelle or that this was another “not sexual contact” thing, which she most emphatically did not want to hear about right now. They certainly were enjoying themselves—that was apparent. Neither of them seemed to notice her, so she backed out of the room hastily, locking the door behind her. When had Damiar come back into Kari’s life? Why hadn’t Kari shared it with her? Shaken by what she’d seen and feeling like she had nowhere to go, Tamara fled.