Chapter Twenty-Four
By the time Shayd summoned the will to leave the ship, the Tolfarians and Chomans had already met. Omira and Tchao Rimawdi stood with Mof at the bottom of their ramp, the Tolfarian leader looking as if he belonged on Vade far more than any Shrouded did. But where had Rowri gone?
His heart lurched. If they'd wisked her off prematurely, before the negotiations were complete…he might never see her again, never have his last chance to persuade her.
The Galactic Seat was a glimmering dome beyond the port walls, but everywhere between slender buildings rose from a concrete plain. The world was a quilt of black metal and glaring, multi-colored lights. More vehicles wandered between the ships here than had ever been seen on Shroud. Many more. The hover sleds were more numerous than his people were. Vade, as the center of this section of the Summit’s authority, bustled and hummed and never once paused to breathe.
It made his skin crawl. The skies were clear and showed a blanket of eternity overhead. It went on forever, and Shayd felt exposed beneath it. The whole world was naked, bare, and yet full of more life than he’d ever imagined in one place. He’d read the summary as they orbited. Not a square acre of natural soil on the surface, not a wasted inch that could be made to serve a purpose.
So very in agreement with his impression of the Galactic Summit so far.
As if on cue, a transport slipped to a stop beyond their ramp. The panel opened and a contingency of officials spilled from the cabin. He recognized Tout and his assistant. The man nodded up to their open hatchway, and Mofitan, standing like a pillar to the side of the ramp, turned and headed back up it.
They’d done their job well. Omira and Tchao Rimawdi would negotiate here, but the peacemaking had already taken root along the way. The Choma-uraru would not take much urging to accept the Tolfarians’ aid. In fact, he’d guess the woman had already made her decision, that everyone knew what the next steps would be, that they all moved through an inevitable play. Just like actors…or puppets.
Below them, Tchao Rimawdi greeted the Councilmen stiffly. The Tolfarians were not members, and from what he garnered had no interest in joining. They’d want away as fast as possible too, and they meant to take his bonded with them. Except there was no Heart ceremony. She wasn’t technically his. The stone on his finger whispered that it didn’t matter. It said technicalities did not apply away from Shroud.
“Excuse me!” A whiny, all-too-familiar voice hissed from the cargo bay. “Let me through.”
The Shevran trader shuffled to the hatch, clutching his bags and his silver case again. Mofitan growled, but he moved aside as quickly as Shayd did. Let the little man past to go bother someone else. They’d never wanted him aboard to begin with.
But the reptilian took the ramp at a trot, as if they might force him to stay. He waddled across the short stretch of pad, directly to where the Tolfarians waited. The trader scurried straight to Tchao, and the Tolfarian leader let him come this time.
Tout scowled at the Shevran, but Rimawdi waved him to one side, pointed him toward the Tolfarians’ ship. His face remained stern, unmoving, but his head nodded ever so slightly, a yes to the trader’s unvoiced question, and his eyes moved as well. The man’s gaze lingered on the silver case for a moment before lifting again. He listened to Tout, but his attention shifted to whatever the Shevran had in his stubby, green arms.
“Did you see that?” Mofitan had noticed it as well.
“Yes. Where’s Haftan?”
“Helping the Choman find a garden.”
"Then who will mediate? Should I?"
“No.” Mof answered too quickly. He wanted Shayd away from the Chomans as much as her guardian did. The betrayal of it stung, but he should have expected it. Mofitan had Shroud’s interest at heart, and Haftan wanted a life away from home. He wanted a fresh start in a place where he had no embarrassing false reign at his back, and Summit membership would be a fast path to that goal. “I mean, there’s no need to. I’m sure Haftan will be done shortly.”
“Of course.” Maybe he should have been friendlier on Shroud. If they’d spent any time together, perhaps, the other Shrouded would side with him, would see that he needed their help to untangle the woman from these Tolfarians’ clutches. He’d had his role to play there, too, however. He’d had his smoke and his visions and no time to form bonds like the others had.
And what had it gained him? The power to see his own doom approaching? It hadn’t armed him against the future, nor had it allowed him any chance at the one thing that mattered, the only thing that mattered to anyone under the Shroud. The heartbond.
But you’re no longer under the Shroud. The rules have changed out here, and so have the loyalties. The threads didn’t reach this far. His smoke couldn’t help him, and his kinsmen had clearly decided that they wouldn’t.
Shayd watched Omira follow the Tolfarians and Tout to the Summit Seat for a meeting he doubted would take more than a few hours to sort out given how chummy the woman was with the Tolfarian devil. He doubted they'd even need Hafitan's help. He followed Mofitan back up the ramp, but stopped at the hatch. How could he go back on board?
He might never see her again. Just like that, and he’d done nothing to stop it. The hatch yawned in front of him, turning dark and unfriendly. He wasn’t designed to act. His was a life of looking, of observing the signs and relaying the message. How could he be expected to survive a galaxy set against him? Still, if Rowri had allowed him, Shayd would have found a way. If only he could have gotten to her.
But their time had run out. He had no sigils, no herbs, and nothing to combat his present predicament. He had no wish to face a future without his heartmate, however. He was stuck. His feet refused to move him, as if entering the ship would be an irreversible step in the wrong direction.
“Are you coming aboard?” Mofitan waited inside the cargo bay. He gazed out at the Vade port, didn’t even look at Shayd. “Or something else.”
What else was there? He considered moving, but his feet were no longer speaking to him. Mof’s gaze drifted down, but it didn’t land on him. He watched the lanes and ships waiting around them, and he didn’t push the situation. Eventually, he nodded.
“Here comes Haftan.”
Already? Shayd spun around, caught Haftan climbing out of a transport. The girl was not with him. He’d left her somewhere. Shayd’s blood awoke. It pounded at the side of his head. Had he given her over already?
The once-king hitched across the paving and leapt up their ramp. He reached Shayd without a word, then shared a look with Mof. Mofitan only grunted. He spun as if ordered and marched into the ship and out of sight.
Haftan threw an arm across Shayd’s shoulders and steered him back down the ramp to the waiting cab. He pushed Shayd into the vehicle ahead of him, and the Seer went willingly, numbly. Haftan joined him on the seat, and the driver moved off. He didn’t wait for a destination, followed some order Haftan had already given. Perhaps at least one of Shayd’s companions had decided to help him. It seemed Haftan had a plan.
The car shot out between the ships at a speed that had him searching for the seat restraints. Where they went, he could only guess. Did Rowri know what Haftan was doing? Had she asked to see him, or would this visit surprise her, only make things harder for them?
Vade passed in a blur. Outside the port the buildings blocked out anything else. Haftan didn’t speak, and Shayd watched the black, the colored lights and fought to still his thoughts. The stone pulsed on his finger. He twisted the ring and invoked the Heart. He drew the sigils in his mind and felt the threads tighten. Rowri.
Fate and the heartstone drew him to her. That and a little help from Haftan. Had Mofitan known? If not, he hadn’t tried to stop them. It was something, at least. In the end, they’d tried their best for him.
The car halted in front of a lower building. Its dark walls lifted half as high as its neighbors and the roof arched up, a clear dome that reflected the surrounding lights and cast rainbows
on the vegetation visible through its surface. A garden, an atrium not unlike the one on Base 14 but ten times the size. Shayd scrambled free of the transport. He waited while Haftan whispered to the driver, but he kept his eyes on the building, and he knew that Rowri was inside it.
"I'm needed at the meeting." Haftan hovered beside the cab for a moment. He spoke without looking at Shayd. “I’ll try to stretch things out as much as possible.”
“Thank you.” It was a weak offering for an opportunity that might mean nothing or everything. Shayd had no more words, however. He abandoned Haftan, and before the man climbed back into his cab Shayd took the wide stairs to the garden entrance three at a time. The doors opened on a wall of thick, moist air. His lungs struggled with it, used to arid, artificial breathing.
The atrium overflowed with greenery. Fronds blocked his way almost immediately, even though many paths wound between the plantings. They’d been wired to glow in soft colors that had to mean something. He didn’t have time to learn what…unless one color would lead him faster to his Heart. They failed to encourage him, however. Vines hung in his way and the only sound he could discern was steady, distant dripping.
He had his ring to guide him, the heartstone that he should have trusted all along. Would it answer him now? He twisted the ring and felt the flash of heat, the warmth that meant magic still lived in the stone. Shayd closed his eyes and imagined the threads. He felt them weaving between his life and Rowri’s. They made a solid cord, a single twined line of fate that he could see in his mind as clearly as if it hung in the air before him.
He opened his eyes and followed it, the tightening in his belly and not the paths, the sounds, or any outward signpost. His bond led him through the trees and flowers. It drew him in and wound him deeper into the garden. The Seer that he was trusted it. The man only prayed that Rowri waited beyond the next branch.
He trotted now, would have closed his eyes again if he hadn’t had to duck the growing things. The strength of the tugging grew. His ring flared, almost too hot. He reached out to her at the same instant a monster leapt from the bushes. It blocked his path, hunkered in front of him—a beast built of solid muscle and sleek silver fur.
Shayd froze in place. The threads still drew him forward, but now he faced a cat the size of a hover bike, an animal that had no business running free in a public place, a dangerous, snarling, oddly familiar creature.
The cat lowered its long body to the path and watched him with eyes like embers. They caught the light and flashed. His ring sizzled against his skin. Rowri. Choma-uraru. What had she said about her beast? Had she meant this thing? Did it somehow come out of her, and if it had, where was the woman? His Heart strings suggested possibilities that his mind could not quite untangle.
“Where is Rowri?” He watched the cat’s face for any sign of understanding. They’d been in such a rush to get her here, to find the garden space. Why? What would happen to a girl with this thing inside of her if she couldn't let it out in time? “Did you hurt her?”
He laughed at the anger in his voice, the threat. What could he do to this? He was as helpless as before. All his sight could not fend off the deadly animal he faced. It would not save Rowri nor avenge her. It would not even save his own life, if the cat decided to take him.
Maybe he should let it. Surrender, submit? The animal snarled again, a rumble from deep in its throat. It was a part of her, wasn't it? Perhaps she could hear what it heard, see what the cat saw. Shayd caught the flash again, the eyes that glowed in the light and yet reminded him of her too much. “Rowri?”
Shayd dropped where he stood. His knees fell to the path and his hands opened, reached out palm up and empty. “Is it you?”
One heavy paw moved. The claws clicked against the pathway. What if this was just a wild creature, a massive predator and he had just offered himself for dinner? Let it take me, if I am done. If there is no hope.
The snarl lowered, melted into a purr. He reached for it. His hand moved and the ring flashed. He saw the reflection in the cat’s eyes, and couldn’t stop himself. It came forward, one soft step at a time, and Shayd reached his hand out and waited.
Before he touched it, his eyes closed. He inhaled and felt the cat’s slick fur brush against his fingers. The heartbond sang at that contact, and Shayd had no more denial in the face of it.
Not a part of her at all. This beast had not come from his heartmate. It was her. He flexed his fingers, stroked them through her fur, and opened his eyes.
“Rowri.” He knew her, knew the truth in that touch even before he saw it in the beast’s gaze. The great cat’s head pressed forward, and the silk pelt shifted under his hand. He leaned into it, placed his forehead against the wide, silver skull and felt the threads of their souls entwine further. In this form, as this Uraru, he couldn't say how much she could understand. Did the beast hear his words, his actions, the same way the woman would? Shayd couldn't begin to guess. He only knew that in the steady rumble of the creature’s throat, he heard the song of his bonded. “Rowri.”
She spun on her haunches and bounded into the greenery. Shayd stood. His legs only shook the first few steps. He chased the beast that was the woman he loved into the artificial jungle.
The pathway lights glowed softer as he went, dimming beneath a thickening layer of plants. He skidded each time his feet landed on a wide leaf or tangle of vines. He stumbled, flailed and chased after the shadow dancing through the garden ahead of him. It flickered between the plants, darted in and out of sight, leading him deeper and deeper into the garden.
Shayd lifted his robes to run better. He dodged the low hangers and kept his eyes fixed on the last spot the cat had occupied. If he couldn’t catch it, somehow, he would lose. The threads whispered it to him. Make chase. Do not falter, and the Heart’s tear burned into his ring finger.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rowri ran from him, only half aware of what she did. The cat played its game, darting and flirting through the artificial jungle, but the woman struggled beneath its pelt. Let him know me. Don’t let him shrink away. Could a non-Choman, a man with no Uraru, understand what she was?
The tingle in her veins told her if anyone might, it was the Shrouded Seer behind her. She led him deeper into the growth, winding in an off-balance spiral toward the spot where she’d left her clothing. If he was lost, she’d have time to change back before he made his way out. If he followed the cat, perhaps, he understood the woman.
The atrium boasted a long gazing pool at its center, and she led him to that open space. He stumbled in her wake, tripped over the things her cat melted between and around. Eventually, he reached the spot. What would he make of her now, a giant Uraru sitting like a hound behind the pool, watching its reflection while he caught his breath?
Would he understand the look she gave him, the silent message? Wait. Rest here. In case he didn’t, she sprang away again, faster now that her game was done. She streaked to her goal and reached the corner where she’d stowed her things without any sign of pursuit. No humanoid could catch the cat that did not want to be followed.
She changed and dressed more swiftly than she’d ever attempted on Choma. The beast mind still growled at her haste while she walked back, forcing herself not to run. He would be there. Shayd would wait for her. The cat purred agreement, and yet the woman’s feet shifted to a trot.
Rowri burst into the clearing with her heart in her throat, still tingling at the memory of his touch. He was not afraid, had been willing to die for her.
He waited by the water. His head snapped in her direction and he took a step, a single pace forward before his brow lowered. Rowri held her breath and let him sort it out.
“It was you,” he said. “Or am I mad, too?”
“You are not.” She watched him with cat’s eyes. “And it was. It still is.”
He didn’t smell of fear, though that scent flirted at the edges. His face didn’t scrunch or stiffen. He only nodded, turned fully to her, and opened his a
rms wide.
Rowri bounded into them.
“The Heart is never wrong.” He whispered it into her hair. “We are…”
“I know.” She melted into his embrace, felt the heat and the power underneath his robes and burrowed into it. Her breath hitched and her words came out sobbing. “I know we are.”
“Rowri, Rowri.” Thick arms tightened around her.
Shayd chanted until her cat purred in rhythm to his words. She pressed her face against black silk and inhaled him. Let me keep this forever. Let me live always in this second.
“We should run.” He said it abruptly, soft as a secret wish, but she could tell he meant it. “We could go now, go anywhere.”
“No.” She’d thought the same thing less than an hour ago, but it had been the beast talking then and, like it or not, the woman knew the futility of dodging a seeing. It would always be worse. After her vision of the Tolfarians’ torture, she couldn’t imagine anything more horrid. Now, in Shayd’s arms, she could so easily see it. Something would happen to him. If they ran, it would be him that suffered.
Omira was right. This was why she walked to her death calmly, because she loved her people, loved the ones that would suffer if she saved herself.
“No?” He tightened his hold on her, and his voice warbled the syllable. “No, Rowri? But why not?”
“Because a seeing must come to pass. Because our people depend on our sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice!” His head shook so fiercely that his grip on her slipped.
She nodded, willed him to hold her tight again, but he stepped away. Cursed his “Shroud” and stomped his foot against the path.
“Why must we sacrifice our Heart? The universe is infinite. The Heart is never wrong. There has to be another way.”
“But I have seen this path.”
He flinched now, from the woman’s words when even her beast had not frightened him. His voice came low and flat. Empty of the many things she sensed he held tightly in check. “You would choose to follow it? To part and live our lives without…”
Seen (Heartstone Book 2) Page 17