Fire Margins

by Lisanne Norman

  “Yet you ask me,” said Kaid. “I have things I hold dear, Lijou. My faith is one of them. Shortly I will be putting not only my life, but that of my Liege and his mate, to say nothing of their unborn cub, at risk because of my faith in Vartra. Would you shake it after what you’ve said about the importance to Shola of our going?”

  “No,” said Lijou, closing his eyes briefly as he sat back. “I wouldn’t do that. I apologize. I should never have asked you.”

  “What is the Fire Margins ritual, Lijou?” Kaid asked after a moment’s silence. “What is it a test of but faith? To succeed you need to put your life in the hands of the Gods, Vartra in particular.”

  “No one knows what you need to do to survive, Kaid. No one has survived according to my records at Stronghold.”

  “What if those who went expected to find a God and found a living being no different from us, what then? The shock of facing the disintegration of all they believe could make it impossible for them to return from the world of the past. It could kill them, couldn’t it?”

  Lijou opened his eyes again, looking at Kaid with renewed interest. “It could.”

  “So many centuries of prayer, from the strongest minds on our world, all directed toward one mortal person. Could that, blended on top of an existing deity, make a person into a God?”

  Lijou could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “If you believe the old tales of tapping into the psychic energy of our forefathers, yes, it’s possible.”

  “How much truth do you think there is in the legends that telepaths once fought as well as any Warrior?”

  “The Sholans in the new Leska pairs fight.”

  “They’re reverting to type, Lijou. It can be done. Those who’ve walked the Fire Margins before were telepaths who couldn’t fight, who expected a God and found a male no different from themselves; who lost their faith in the capacity of the ritual that took them back to the Cataclysm to return them to their own time. It’s no wonder they didn’t return.”

  Lijou watched Kaid get to his feet.

  “I can hear your visitors,” he said, turning toward the door.

  “Will you go?” demanded Lijou, hands clenched so tightly on the chair that Kaid could see the whites of his knuckles showing through his pelt.

  “To the Fire Margins? I haven’t lost my faith, Lijou,” said Kaid, turning round briefly as he reached the door. “Yes, I’ll go. The God told me we have an appointment there.”

  Chapter 8

  “And was Raiban satisfied once she saw the remains?” asked Rhyasha.

  “She was convinced they weren’t Human or Sholan,” said Konis, reaching for another cookie. “She’s taken a couple of the smaller bones to be analyzed at the Nijidi Science Station. You know, dated and so on.”

  “You’ll spoil your appetite,” his mate warned. “Third meal’s only an hour away.”

  “No chance of that,” he said, nibbling at the edge of his cookie. “After missing second meal at the Shrine, I’m starving. I must say I didn’t expect Lijou to break ranks with Ghezu like this. It’s worrying.”

  “I’d be more worried if he hadn’t,” said Rhyasha candidly. “Does he really think Ghezu will ask that the joint leadership of the Brotherhood be set aside in his favor?”

  “He must think it possible or he wouldn’t have asked me to block it. He’s right, too. A Guild that combines the talents of Warriors and Telepaths should be ruled by both disciplines.”

  “Mm,” said Rhyasha, cradling her mug in both hands as she took a drink. “There’s certainly more going on at Stronghold than meets the eye.”

  Konis sighed. “It’s Kusac’s involvement with them that worries me.”

  Rhyasha reached out and put her hand on her mate’s. “Our son’s no fool, Konis,” she said. “He’s told us the agreement between him and the Brotherhood has been signed and witnessed by Ghezu as well as Lijou. In two days’ time, he’ll be free of the Telepath Guild and the Brotherhood both. He has us, his Clan, to back him until he takes the Fire Margins ritual. As well as that, he has the backing of the Forces. Look how much they’ve put into ensuring our estate is well protected to keep not only him and Carrie safe, but the others as well.”

  “That protection can act as a prison, too,” said Konis.

  “Not when the people who protect us are all looking to Kaid and Kusac as their leaders.”

  “I don’t like it,” he said, ears flicking in concern. “Too much lies in the control of one person that we hardly know. What if something should happen to Kaid? And what about this ritual? No one has survived it so far. We could still lose them, Rhyasha,” he said, his fingers curling round hers.

  “I feel your fear, and I understand it,” she said gently. “We have to trust, Konis. Trust that Kusac, and Carrie, know what they’re doing. There has never been a Link like theirs before. Together they are more powerful than any Leska pair within your experience, remember? Then there’s Kaid. They’ve chosen him to make up their Triad. They’ve trusted him with their lives many times. If they trust him, why shouldn’t we? His own life is at risk, too, and he doesn’t strike me as having a death wish.”

  “I hear what you’re saying, Rhyasha,” he sighed. “I suppose what bothers me about Kaid is that with most people I can pick up a general understanding of their characters without trying. With Kaid, there’s nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “You’re telling me?” she said, taking her hand away as she put her mug down. “I’ve found quite a few of the Brothers are like that. Garras and Ni’Zulhu to mention only two. You feel what they want you to feel, nothing more, but are they any less trustworthy for that? Don’t we hide behind our Talent?”

  “You’ve got a point,” he agreed.

  “Are you going to finish that cookie or not?” she asked, tweaking it out of his lax grip.

  “Yes, if you give it back to me,” he said with a faint grin, reaching for it.

  “What are you planning on doing tomorrow? Who have you still to see before the Guild meeting?”

  “I need to see Nishou over at the Laasoi Guildhouse. Lijou’s extremely worried about the situation in the desert concerning this self-appointed priest, Fyak. He feels that the Guild should evacuate all nonessential personnel, leaving a couple or so there with a group of Brothers to protect them so we can continue to get up-to-date information. There’s several refugees there at the moment and I need to talk to them. Pretty soon we could have more than small tribal wars on our hands. All it needs is for this Fyak to get too ambitious, and we could have them pouring over the Nyacko Pass into the plains.”

  “Have you tabled this for discussion at the Guild meeting?”

  “Yes. Governor Nesul and I worked on the agenda last week. Nearly every Guild has sent in their proposals except for the Brotherhood, of course, and Esken.”

  “That was to be expected. There’s only a sham of civility toward you and Nesul left in him,” said Rhyasha. “Nesul seems to be relying on you more and more now he knows all telepaths are not like Esken. Who can you definitely count on to vote for the Brotherhood?”

  “The vote to allow Kusac and the others to change guilds is the crucial one. If they lose that, the Brotherhood can’t request guild status.”

  “So who will support our son?”

  “Myself, Vizoen of the Artificers Guild, possibly Vyaku of Communications, Fryak of Manufacturing, and Rhayfso of the Warriors. Nesul himself and High Commander Chuz of the Forces, predictably,” he said with a small chuckle. “He’ll probably be able to sway Tayangi of the Civil Protectorate our way, and there’s Nadu Kayal of the Priests, but they’re sub-guilds and may not be allowed to vote in this matter. Even if they are, neither Ghezu nor Lijou will be allowed to vote as a sub-guild master because of their interest in the outcome.”

  “It’s nice to know we still have strong ties with the Artificers,” she said. “A fair proportion of our unTalented clans-people have gifts with the arts. I’m glad they’re with us. You have nearly half of the main
Guild Masters.”

  “If we can get a majority of them, then it needn’t go to the full vote of forty-five,” said Konis.

  “Is there anything Esken can do to prevent the proposal being presented to the Council?”

  “Not really. He can’t be seen to do anything about it. He has his own people to back him, but I think we’ll have the edge. I want to see Vyaku tomorrow. I’m sure I can talk him round to our way of thinking.”

  “That one’s a tree-rhudda!” she said with a small noise of disgust. “No backbone unless he knows he’s backing a sure winner.”

  “Perhaps you could lean a little on him,” said Konis hopefully. “After all, he’s used to dealing with both of us in Alien Relations. It would save me some time tomorrow.”

  Rhyasha groaned. “You only want me to do it because he keeps inviting me to spend some time with him!”

  Konis grinned. “Look on it as your contribution. You never know. You might find you want to take him up on his offer after all!”

  “With him? I’d rather den with a nest of tree-rhuddas! Enough of this. Have you heard from Taizia in the last day or two? She’s not at the Guild and when I checked with her friend, she’d just packed up and left.”

  “No, I haven’t. Not since the row over sending for Jack. Are you worrying about her?”

  Rhyasha drummed her fingertips on the table. “Concerned rather. She doesn’t normally sulk for so long after a row. I hope she hasn’t done something stupid.”

  “If she had, she’d have done it immediately after the heat of the row,” said Konis reassuringly. “If she’s been seen around the Guild and staying with a friend up until a day or two ago, then it’s highly unlikely that it’s more than that she’s gone to stay with someone else. I’d have suggested Meral, but he’s based here.”

  Rhyasha sighed. “I expect you’re right. The house seems empty today now that most of our guests have moved out to Kusac’s estate. Even Carrie and Kusac aren’t here just now.”

  “We’ve still got Vanna and Garras as well as our Keissian medic,” he said. “And Zhyaf and Mara. At least she and Kitra are quieter now that we’ve got Jinoe and Rrai settled temporarily on our estate with his mother and a foster family.”

  “I don’t know what we’d have done without Dzaka and Ghyan. They’re still keeping them busy, thank Vartra! Mara’s almost as much work as Kitra, and Zhyaf’s no help at all! He spends most of his time shut up in their rooms pretending she’s nothing to do with him! It isn’t as if he’s old, Konis, he’s of an age with us! He’s had seven stress-free weeks here to come to terms with events. I think you should have words with him. I’ve tried talking to Mara with no result. I’d have asked Carrie but…”

  “No. You’re quite right. Carrie shouldn’t be involved in this just because Mara’s human. I’ll get Vanna to have a word with her and I’ll see Zhyaf myself this evening, after third meal.”

  *

  The Terran building within the Telepath Guildhouse grounds was virtually self-contained. The upper two floors were given over to personal living quarters while the ground level contained the communal areas. A mess had been built where they could eat food cooked on the premises rather than from the dispensers that had been installed in each living room. There was also a lounge and a couple of recreation rooms.

  Brynne was sitting in one of those lounges nursing a coffee when Terry came in.

  “I thought you were here,” he said. “I saw Lhea outside.”

  He grunted and raised his mug to his mouth. “She’s part of the problem.”

  “What’s up?” asked Terry, sitting opposite him. “Had another row with Sara?”

  “Terminal this time,” Brynne muttered. “As if I haven’t enough to cope with without her demands and tantrums.”

  “Hey, I know you don’t like being followed round by Lhea or Maylgu, but it’s better than Khafsa and Esken getting their hands on you again, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, dammit!” he said with anger. “They’re also a constant reminder to her of Vanna, and she hates Vanna! I couldn’t get it through her thick head that I had no choice over whether or not I had a Leska—until yesterday.”

  “Mmm?”

  “I sent to her during our Link day,” he said.

  “You what?” asked Terry.

  “You heard,” Brynne said, looking up at him. “I sent to her.”

  “I bet that made you popular with both of them.”

  “You could say that.” He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit one, inhaling deeply. “Vanna hit the roof, and left me with a few claw marks to prove it.”

  “I wouldn’t like to get any Sholan female angry with me, let alone that lady,” said Terry.

  “Especially when you’re being intimate.” Brynne winced at the memory. “She’s got a bloody powerful kick.”

  “Well, let’s face it, Brynne. How would you feel if she was with Garras and sent to you? It’s flouting how you rate her as a lover.”

  “Trouble is, no one’s matched her,” said Brynne morosely. “Sholan or human. It’s the damned Link. It spoils any other relationship because on the physical level, there is no comparison.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re finally getting attached to Vanna,” said Terry. “It’s about time! She’s dealt fairly with you from the start, you know, and you haven’t exactly been pleasant to her. It’s not easy for her, being the only female expecting a half-human child. She’s never made a fuss about it. I’ve got a great deal of respect for her.”

  “Don’t rub it in,” said Brynne testily, flicking the ash off his cigarette into the ashtray. “If you think that much of her, go and proposition her yourself! She won’t mind. After all, she’s got three of us already, what’s one more?”

  Terry reached across the table and grabbed Brynne by the front of his sweater, pulling him across the table toward him. “I’d watch what you say about her, if I were you,” he said quietly. “If I wasn’t sure you know it’s not an insult to Sholans, I’d land you one. You cause your own trouble, Brynne. What the hell’s wrong with you? Can’t you admit to yourself you could care for an alien female? Get a grip on yourself before you lose the few friends you’ve got left.” He released him and, getting to his feet, walked out of the lounge.

  Somewhat shaken, Brynne took another drag on his cigarette. It wasn’t like that. He hadn’t meant to insult either of them.

  The last couple of times he’d stayed longer with Vanna than usual, remaining in their Leska quarters for most of the twenty-six hours rather than leaving as soon as he was able.

  What insanity had possessed him the day before, he didn’t know. He’d been feeling good about himself and about her—strangely he usually did on their Link days. He’d only meant to let Sara know how the Link compulsion felt.

  Vanna had been soft and warm in his arms. Her body was losing the hard muscular lines, just beginning to grow the gentle curves of her advancing pregnancy. They could both feel the presence of the child now, a male. She was carrying his son. He’d felt closer to her at that moment than he ever had to any female and as they joined for the last time that day, he’d reached out for Sara, bringing her mentally into their Link. It had been stupid and insensitive of him, but it hadn’t been done maliciously, as both females believed.

  Unable to react any other way, Vanna’s hands had tightened on his back, her claws suddenly puncturing his flesh. As the pain began to bite, they were swept beyond such considerations.

  How dare you! she sent immediately afterward. I’m no qwene to enjoy an audience, especially when it’s your Companion! As her hands had pushed him away, her feet had come up to contact his upper thighs in a double kick that had sent him flying off the bed to collide with one of the chairs.

  “Get out of here!” she’d hissed, her face a mask of fury as, four-limbed, she leaped to the end of the bed, tail lashing and canines showing.

  “Vanna, I didn’t…”

  “Get out!” She’d begun to growl, a low, ominous
sound that made his blood run cold. He was suddenly reminded that she was all feline, and fully capable of killing him with one swipe of her hand.

  He reached out and grabbed his clothes from the floor, backing up till he felt the door behind him. It opened, sending him sprawling backward into the lounge. As it shut, he realized he was trembling with fear.

  Hurriedly, he pulled his clothes on, wincing as the materials abraded his claw-scored back and lacerated thighs. Still keeping his face to the bedroom door, he left, only turning round once he was in the corridor.

  He’d gone straight back to the rooms he’d shared with Sara, and in the bathroom, had undressed again. The wounds on his legs were deep and still bleeding as he eased himself out of his jeans. The blood was slow and sluggish to be sure, but it was startlingly red against his skin. Feeling rather sick and dizzy, he sat down suddenly on the floor.

  He was still there, dabbing futilely at the cuts with a towel, when Sara returned. He heard her banging about in the room and called out to her.

  “Sara, I think I need Dr. Reynolds,” he’d started to say, but she flung open the bathroom door and cut him short.

  “You bastard!” she’d said, picking up his toothbrush and flinging it at him. “How dare you send to me when you’re screwing your alien whore! Your things are in the corridor. Don’t bother coming back!”

  “Sara, I’m bleeding …”

  “I don’t give a damn! Go and bleed somewhere else! If she did that to you, it damned well serves you right! Now get out of my bloody flat! I never want to see you again!”

  “But, Sara!”

  She’d left and returned with Lhea. “You’re in charge of him. Get him out of here,” she snapped. “If he’s not gone in five minutes, I’ll call Security and have him thrown out!”

  Impassively, Lhea had squeezed past her and knelt beside him. “They are not serious,” she said, examining the lacerations. “If it pains you to put your clothes back on, come as you are. Physician Reynold’s office isn’t far.”

  He’d balked at walking through the center trouserless with bleeding wounds on his thighs, and had struggled back into his clothes while Lhea used her wrist comm to call for someone to collect his belongings.