Twilight tdts-3

by Кристи Голдэн

  And then there was pain—lots and lots of it. Jake cried out sharply, stared at Starke in shock and betrayal, and slumped unconscious to the floor.

  CHAPTER 23

  "STARKE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

  Valerian's normally modulated, smooth voice was deep and rough with anger as he rushed to the fallen bodies, checking for pulses and then lifting his gray eyes, storm clouds now, to the former ghost.

  "They're unharmed," Starke assured him. "And you'd best get the professor into surgery as soon as possible."

  Having assured himself that both Ramsey and Dahl were all right, the sharp edge of Valerian's fury was tempered, but only slightly. "I assume you've got a reason for doing this."

  "Indeed I do, sir. I do what you cannot."

  Valerian rose. "Explain."

  "Your father wants a pound of flesh. Let it be me."

  Valerian's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

  "Sir, there's no way that you can defy your father and come out of this well. I made a vow to serve you to the utmost of my abilities, and that is what I intend to do." He hesitated, a self-deprecating, almost shy smile curving his lips. "You saved my life, Your Excellency. I've been on borrowed time ever since. I believe in you, sir. In you and in Professor Ramsey. Let me trade my life for the three of you—for your continued safety and freedom. Give me to your father and his ghosts."

  Valerian had been trained from childhood to play the fine game of politics. He had carefully schooled himself to not reveal his emotions. But for the second time in almost as many minutes, his veneer of poise was shattered.

  "What?"

  "I dived deep into Professor Ramsey's mind. I extracted quite a lot of information. Arcturus will send ghosts to get that information, and there's enough there that they'll think they've learned all there is to know. I'll put up enough mental barriers so they'll have to really digfor it—that way it will seem believable, and also buy you, Ramsey, and Dahl some time. You'll have the chance to hide them somewhere far away, where your father won't find them. I fear I caused the professor quite a bit of pain—do apologize for me, won't you?"

  "Devon.. .if they are forced to extract the information with you fighting them...that's going to kill you, isn't it?"

  The former ghost shrugged his thin shoulders. "Possibly. At the very least, it will shatter my mind. I'll be quite useless to anyone afterward." He said this with only the faintest tremor. Anyone who didn't know him well would have thought he was discussing the weather.

  "As for you, sir, I'm a trained ghost. Any memories I have of this conversation will be so scrambled and disjointed by the time they reach them that they won't be sure what's a lie and what's the truth. You'll be completely off the hook and able to claim that I acted totally independently."

  "There has to be.. .we could find another way." Even as he said the words, Valerian realized that they were nothing more than wishful thinking.

  "Sir, with all due respect, I don't think so. You needed to call on the emperor to recover Professor Ramsey. We're here at the crossroads, and this is the only viable path."

  Slowly, Valerian nodded. "Is...well, there's no one I should notify, is there?" Devon Starke had been separated from his family since he had been conscripted for the ghost program. No one would miss him—except for Valerian.

  "No, sir. But if you'd do something for me, I'd be most grateful."

  "Name it."

  "That bonding that Ramsey did—it's part of why I'm doing this. That, and my loyalty to you. Don't forget about that. We can become better than we are, sir. I know this. I've tasted it."

  Valerian extended a hand and clasped Starke's. "I won't forget, Devon. Not that, nor you, nor what you've done. I promise."

  Jake blinked awake. He was lying on a small bed in an alcove cut into a wall. The sheets were comfortable and he was tempted to close his eyes again when a soft voice said, "Well good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

  He turned to see Rosemary sitting curled up in a chair, smiling at him. Her chin was propped up on her hand and her bangs fell into her face. His heart turned over.

  "What happened? Devon—what did he do to us?"

  "Turns out Devon Starke had a bit of a knight-in-shining-armor complex."

  "Had?"

  Rosemary's grin faded a bit. "Well, he's still alive. For now. He took information from your brain and volunteered to distract Arcturus long enough for Valerian to get us safely away."

  Jake stared. "He's.. .they'll kill him."

  "He knew that. It was his idea."

  "But why?"

  "Loyalty to Valerian...and something about that mind-link thing you did to us all really got to him."

  Jake nodded slowly. "I understand."

  "On a happier note, the tumors were removed. You're well on your way to a full recovery. Although you're bald now and you'll have quite the wicked-looking scar."

  Jake's hand flew to his skull. Rosemary was right—his head was smooth as a baby's bottom, and there were bandages on it.

  "Guess now I'm an egghead in all meanings of the word," he deadpanned.

  The quip caught her off guard and she laughed, as much in surprise as in humor. His smile, tinged with sorrow at the loss of Devon Starke, grew a little.

  "Come on, Eggy," she said. "Mr. V is waiting for us."

  Soft music was playing and their erstwhile captor, now host, hadhis back to them as they entered. Valerian turned, smiling, and Jake saw he had a glass of a golden liquor in his hand.

  "Professor. I'm told the surgery was an unqualified success. They've assured me that you'll be able to travel within a day or two. It's even safe for you to have a drink with me, if you like."

  Jake inclined his head. "Thank you, sir. I will."

  "I'm having pear brandy, but you may have whatever you like."

  "That will be fine, thank you."

  Valerian himself poured the drinks. At Jake's curious look, he said, "Remember, you're technically prisoners. Whittier shouldn't see us sharing a celebratory glass together." He grinned as he handed the small glasses to Rosemary and Jake. Jake took a whiff of the fragrant liquor; it was almost achingly sweet and made his mouth water. He sighed softly as he remembered another moment, seemingly so long ago now, when he had been about to taste something new.

  "Sammuro fruit," Rosemary said quietly.

  "What, now you're the mind reader?" Jake said jokingly.

  "No. I was thinking of it too."

  Jake wondered if the protoss would ever return to Aiur. There were some protoss left, he was certain of it, even in the wake of zerg and Ulrezaj and the horrific grip of Sundrop. They were survivors.

  Valerian lifted his glass. "The day I'd hoped for has finally come," he said, smiling at each of them in turn. "We are about to sit down together—not as employer and employees, not as perceived enemies—but as friends. I've looked forward to this day."

  "It's been bought at a cost," Jake said. Rosemary lifted an eyebrow and nodded slight approval at his boldness. "I understand Devon Starke is being a decoy for us.. .and that he is likely not to survive the undertaking."

  Sorrow flitted across Valerian's patrician face. "This is true. I wasn't expecting that from him. It was a brave gesture."

  "And you've taken control of a protoss sacred site," Jake continued. "Forgive my boldness, sir, but after being as close to them as I have been—that doesn't sit well with me."

  "Nor with me. Unfortunately it was necessary at the time, if I was to find you. However, you'll be pleased to hear that a few hours after you went into surgery, your protoss friends returned. With lots of company."

  "They came back for us," Rosemary said. She directed her gaze toward her glass of pear brandy, but the corners of her lips were turned up. "Huh."

  Jake's heart soared. They hadn't abandoned him, or the dark protoss. Somehow, he wasn't surprised—although he was very happy.

  "They did indeed. I was forced to return Ehlna to their control or have my father's lovely and very expensi
ve ships blown out of the skies."

  "But.. .all that knowledge.. .that's exactly what you've been looking for," Jake said. "Hell, it's what I've been looking for."

  "My father would exploit it, and if he could not, he would destroy it. I'd rather the information be preserved, protected—even if it means I never learn it myself. And I confess, there's a small box of crystals tucked away in my quarters for perusal at a later date."

  Jake smiled a little and sipped the brandy. It was almost unbearably sweet, the ripe kiss of the pear warm in the sunshine ready to fall from the tree, thick and syrupy and golden. For a moment, he thought about the last time he and Valerian had shared a drink.

  I know some have notions that this is a very romantic, exciting profession. But really, it's a lot of hard work and practical puzzle solving. It's a wonderful intellectual challenge, certainly, but there's little romance in it when all is said and done.

  "What are you grinning about?" Rosemary said. He smiled down at her.

  "I was remembering what I said to Valerian the first time we met. That there was very little romance in archaeology. I was wrong and you were right. This has been..."

  He could find no words, nor could he link minds anymore to express in thought what words could not. "I... I'm not just a detached observer anymore. I'm not a preserver, not the way the protoss are, but I'm a storyteller now. A keeper of the lore. I've always been the skeptic, the scientist. But you were right, Valerian. It is about the discovery of wonders."

  He looked at Valerian's face, with its barely concealed curiosity and excitement and eagerness to listen. He looked at Rosemary, even more beautiful now than she was when he'd first seen her, as she looked back at him with a soft smile. Thoughts and images tumbled in his head: Darius, Kendra, Rosemary, Devon Starke; Alzadar and Ladranix and Vartanil; Selendis and Mohandar and Zeratul; and at the beginning and end of it all, a protoss spirit with a wry sense of humor and a great heart named Zamara, trading a peaceful passing for eternal battle. Impulsively, he lifted his glass.

  "A toast. To courage, and curiosity, and sacrifice, and.. .and the stories." The little glasses clinked and Jake, surprising himself and the other two, downed his in a single gulp. He held out the glass and, grinning, Valerian refilled it.

  "Let me tell you about what happened," Jake said in a voice that shook with deep joy and pride. "Let me tell you... everything."

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Award-winning author Christie Golden has written over thirty novels and several short stories in the fields of science fiction, fantasy, and horror.

  Golden launched the TSR Ravenloft line in 1991 with her first novel, the highly successful Vampire of the Mists, which introduced elven vampire Jander Sunstar. To the best of her knowledge, she is the creator of the elven vampire archetype in fantasy fiction.

  She is the author of several original fantasy novels, including On Fire's Wings, In Stone's Clasp, and Under Sea's Shadow (currently available only as an ebook), the first three in her multibook fantasy series The Final Dance from LUNA Books. In Stone's Clasp won the Colorado Author's League Award for Best Genre Novel of 2005, the second of Golden's novels to win the award.

  Among Golden's other projects are over a dozen Star Trek novelsand the first two books in this StarCraft Dark Templar trilogy, Firstborn and Shadow Hunters. An avid player of Blizzard's MMORPG, World of Warcraft, Golden has written several novels in that world—Lord of the Clans, Rise of the Horde, and most recently, Arthas: Rise of the Lich King—with two more in the works. She has also written two Warcraft manga stories for Tokyopop, "I Got What Yule Need" and "A Warrior Made."

  Golden is currently hard at work on three books in the major nine-book Star Wars series Fate of the Jedi, in collaboration with Aaron Allston and Troy Denning. Her first book in the series, Omen, is due out in July 2009.

  Golden lives in Colorado with her husband and two cats. She welcomes visitors to her website, www.christiegolden.com.

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