Angels and Ministers of Grace

by Michelle O'Leary

  "Have you had dinner?"

  "Too tired to eat," she mumbled, eyes sliding closed as she settled back against the pillows.

  "Be right back," he said, and she felt his weight disappear from her side.

  Fighting to open her eyes, she watched him leave with a pang of loss, but couldn't find the energy to call him back.

  "Time to go, girls," she heard Jar say.

  One by one they came to her side and kissed her goodnight. She mumbled a response, feeling a little guilty at her own relief to see them go. It had been a long, difficult day for all of them.

  She was falling asleep when Jason returned and grumbled at him when he woke her up.

  "You need to eat," he told her patiently, placing a tray of soup across her knees.

  Too tired to fight him on it, she picked up the spoon and brought the soup to her mouth with mechanical repetition. She was vaguely aware that he was also eating, but couldn't muster enough interest to look up from her tray. When she was done, he coaxed her into drinking half a glass of juice before allowing her to lie back down. He lowered the bed flat, and she mumbled a thank you, relaxing into the pillows with a heavy sigh.

  A little while later, she was jostled awake when Jason joined her in the bed. Welcoming him with a sleepy murmur, she happily traded the pillows for his chest and snuggled against his warmth. His arms wrapped around her, and she felt his hard chest rumble under her ear as he said something, but she was already slipping back into sleep and didn't understand his words.

  Chapter 27

  Waking with a slow stretch and the feeling of contentment that she usually got from a great night's sleep, Anya opened her eyes to find herself alone.

  "Well hell," she grumbled, a bit put out that Jason wasn't there. Then her eyes caught the chronometer, and she discovered that it was past lunchtime. She'd slept the morning away. "Whoops," she muttered without much guilt and swept the blankets aside, slipping out of the bed.

  She managed to take a shower by herself and was only a little shaky by the time she came back out of the lav. Her friends were waiting for her with regular clothes, for which she thanked them profusely. She'd come to hate hospital gowns with a passion.

  They'd also brought her a meal and laughed when she dug in with enthusiasm, teasing her about what she'd done to work up such an appetite.

  "I wish," she muttered, which made them laugh harder. When she was done with her meal, she stood decisively and headed for the door.

  "Whoa! Where do you think you're going?" Jar exclaimed, pulling her to a halt with a hand at her elbow.

  "I still have a meeting with the Dreamer, don't I? Let's go, ladies. The day's wasting."

  With a chuckle and a shake of her head, Jar released her. "I told them you'd be gone today."

  "Told who?"

  "The nurses. Well, what are we waiting for?"

  The med staff called farewells to her as she passed through, but Anya paused when she caught sight of Dr. Bradshaw bent over a machine. "Hey, Bo! I'm checking myself out," she yelled across the med bay.

  He looked up from his work, his face calm and unsurprised. "You remember your discharge instructions from last time?"

  "Yup!"

  "Get lost, then. And don't come back for a while, hear me?"

  "Yes, sir," she answered with a grin, and he made shooing motions with his hand, looking down again as if she'd become unimportant.

  Still grinning, Anya headed for the door. "Rie, you'll have to lead the way. I have no idea where the Thlassnians are staying…" Her voice trailed off into silence as they stepped out of the med bay and into the corridor. It was filled with people.

  Her exit from Medical was marked by a wave of murmurs that traveled through the crowd, and people approached with eager, open faces. Anya had a moment when she considered fleeing back into Medical, but Jar's hand closing around her elbow killed the impulse.

  "You could have warned me," she hissed to her friend.

  "You might have refused to leave then," Jar answered with studied calm, her dark eyes steady. "If we keep moving, it shouldn't be so bad."

  There wasn't much choice—it was either that or get mired in the crowd for who knew how long. Fortunately it was a polite mob. As she and her friends moved down the corridor, they were greeted courteously, and though there were several gregarious people who paced them, they were never brought to a standstill. They were asked several times if they would sing, but they demurred each time with the excuse that Anya hadn't fully recovered.

  When they finally stepped inside a level hopper and the door slid closed on the crowd, Anya slumped against the wall and heaved a sigh of relief.

  "Are you okay?" Jar asked, a frown of concern pulling her brows together.

  "Physically, yeah. But I don't know how much more of that I can take."

  "Come on, Ani. It's not much different from the crowds of fans we used to get."

  "Of course, it is! This crowd is expecting a lot more than a simple song and dance," she retorted, and then ran her hands over her face with a sigh. "Hero, my ass. Marta's got a lot to answer for."

  Their exit from the hopper was noted, but they weren't mobbed. Eyes and murmurs followed them, and occasionally someone would call a greeting, but they weren't approached, much to Anya's relief.

  When they reached the Thlassnian's quarters, they were welcomed by the female Thlassnian who introduced herself as Hrn. She ushered them into the quarters with a gracious smile and smooth, hypnotic voice. Anya had a brief, wistful desire to hear her sing and wondered if all Thlassnians had such voices, but she was distracted from her idle thoughts by her exotic surroundings. The soft, rippling lighting and the silky draperies that seemed to divide the space in an infinite range of blues gave her the disorienting impression that she was under water. The only furnishings seemed to be a scattering and mounding of cushions on the floor, punctuated by the occasional smooth sculpture.

  A dreamy and languid relaxation seeped into her as Hrn guided them to sit on the cushions while she announced their arrival. When Hrn disappeared through a moving flow of cloth, Anya had to blink hard to remind herself that it was not liquid she was seeing. "Maybe I do want to visit the waters of your homeworld," she said in a hushed voice to Rie. "This is so beautiful."

  Rie's smile was indulgent, but she seemed changed in these surroundings. Her exotic scales were both more muted and jewel-like, as though she had found the ideal backdrop for her loveliness and every movement she made flowed with the light in perfect harmony. Anya found herself staring at Rie with as much fascination as she did their surroundings.

  Hrn reappeared moments later and asked Anya to follow her. Humiliatingly aware of her own lack of grace in this place, Anya climbed to her feet and followed the other woman, watching with something close to awe as the light shivered over Hrn's skin in a river of greens. So absorbed was she in watching the other woman that she didn't realize that they'd stopped until Hrn smiled at her.

  "Please, wait here," she murmured.

  Then she moved away, and Anya realized that she was standing next to an enormous aquarium-like structure. The light drifted through the water in hypnotic rivers, but at least it was water, her eyes told her with relief. The relief was short-lived—the water was occupied. When she registered what she was seeing, Anya's jaw dropped, and she felt a shock that was a mingling of embarrassment and awe.

  Floating within the rivers of light were three Thlassnians, their bodies twining together in a slow dance that was both excruciatingly intimate and painfully beautiful. The two males she recognized, though seeing the proof of their maleness as they drifted in naked splendor made her skin flush. The third was a female, and she was as pure, clean, and achingly beautiful as the heart of a sun. Her scales were white, but the opalescence of them caused streams of color to flow over her form.

  Anya wasn't sure if she was seeing a mating ritual or something else, but she was certain that she shouldn't be watching it. The slow slide of limbs, the glide of hands acros
s curves and arches, and the languid twist of bodies all spoke of an intimacy that did not welcome an audience. But she was unable to look away. The exquisite grace of their dance stole her breath and held her entranced.

  Then suddenly they were gone, and she blinked in surprise, realizing that she was leaning on the aquarium with all her weight, hands pressed to the plas-glass like a supplicant. Straightening slowly, she shook her head and tried to rid herself of the heavy-limbed, thick-headed feeling of a sleeper waking from a deep slumber.

  She was rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands when a clear voice said, "I am sorry. I was dreaming deeply and was hard to awaken."

  Spinning with an awkward little stumble, Anya faced the Dreamer, white-scaled and fantastic and scantily clad in filmy cloth. Her eyes spun with a sparkling glut of color, skin glowing as if lit from within, and Anya felt the strength run out of her legs. Steadying herself with a hand on the glass, Anya thought rather hysterically that it was no wonder the Thlassnian secluded herself. Her beauty was deadly. She would have people dying and killing just to be in her presence, worshiping her with words and songs and bodies. Anya felt the strongest urge to kneel, but managed to curb it ruthlessly.

  "Hello," she croaked, flushing at the toneless and unbeautiful sound of her own voice. And she thought Rie made her feel like a graceless idiot.

  "Anya, thank you for coming. I have dreamt of you so often, it is a true pleasure to finally meet you," she said in a voice like a mountain spring.

  Gathering her dignity, Anya remembered that it was this woman or someone like her who'd sent Rie to be her witness. She remembered to be not only grateful, but wary. Inclining her head, she answered in a firm voice, "Thank you for inviting me. Are you the one who dreamed Rie's path with us?"

  "Yes," the woman answered, a faint smile curling the corners of her mouth. "And I understand from my sister that you are displeased with this."

  Anya shifted uncomfortably. "Rie's your sister?" she temporized.

  "Yes, the sister of my blood and kin of my water. Has she not served you well, little human?" the Dreamer murmured, her tone alight with humor.

  Anya felt a shaft of anger pierce her fascination and she straightened her back. "Rie has not served me at all. She has been a wonderful friend. I was displeased because you put her in a difficult position. She felt she had to lie to me. Plus, you sent her into human territory all alone. Things could have turned out much worse for her, you know."

  The Dreamer's smile widened into full brilliance, and Anya blinked rapidly in defense. "Rie has not exaggerated your worth. You defend her as a mother Selka would her young. But your anger is unfounded—Rie was not forced. She took the path of her own free will and, as I remember, much enthusiasm."

  "Yes, well…" Anya responded wittily. She wondered how this woman and the captain got along. They both seemed to have the same talent for word games and changeling perspectives. Clearing her throat, she rallied as best she could. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

  "I am the Dreamer."

  "Just Dreamer? No name? What do your mates call you?" she asked, flushing a little as she thought of the twining bodies in the water and the female named Hrn. Was she also a mate?

  The woman smiled again and cut the ground out from under Anya. "They call me Beloved. Come, we have much to discuss."

  Hrn was suddenly there with a cloak, which she wrapped around the form of the Dreamer with swift efficiency. Then she smiled at Anya before disappearing again. Anya blinked, disoriented by the flow of colors and light around her. She felt almost drugged and wondered if they'd put something in the air.

  "Will you walk with me, Anya Vaedrin?" the Dreamer asked with an odd formality.

  A little suspicious of the tone of her voice, Anya nodded anyway, pacing her as they moved through drifts of flowing cloth. When they reached the front door, Anya looked back in surprise, wondering how they'd gotten there without seeing her friends again. The Dreamer must have read something of the question on her face.

  "Hrn will tend to your friends. You will be leaving them in good hands."

  The air of the corridor was a bracing rush of cool reason after the languid confusion of the Thlassnian quarters. Anya took a grateful breath and glanced at the Dreamer. She had pulled the cloak over her scaled head, the shadows hiding her exquisite face. Anya felt a quick pang of loss before it was taken over by relief. That kind of dangerous beauty was best taken in small doses.

  "Where are we going?" she asked and was pleased by the even tone of her voice.

  "To see the Hive Queen."

  "What?" Anya stopped abruptly and stared at the cloaked figure.

  "Do not be afraid. There is something each of us must tell you, and something I must show you."

  Anya hesitated, eyeing the Dreamer for a moment with keen suspicion. "Does the captain know about this?"

  "She does not," the Dreamer answered, and Anya would swear that she was holding back laughter. "But Captain Jamison is an exceptional human. It would not surprise me if she guessed my intentions."

  "What exactly are your intentions?"

  "To illuminate the path," she said softly, but something in her voice sent a shiver down Anya's spine.

  To counteract it, she grumbled, "Great, another cryptic Thlassnian. Do you people take lessons?"

  The Dreamer chuckled. "Will you walk with me?"

  Sighing in defeat, Anya joined her, and they set off down the corridor again. Their pace was slow, which was a relief to Anya. Her limbs were still weakened from both overusing her talent and the experience of the Thlassnian quarters. The Dreamer said nothing on their way to the Hive, and Anya was just as glad to keep her own silence. She had no idea how to make small talk with this extraordinary person.

  When they reached the Hive entrance, though, Anya was startled into speech when the Dreamer approached without stopping. "Wait!"

  "Do not be afraid. On my life, I swear that no harm will come to you."

  "That's great, but…last time I had an escort."

  "An escort is not necessary," the Dreamer said with implacable calm. "I know the way."

  With that, she turned and walked into the Hive as if she did such a thing every day. Confused and nervous, Anya followed.

  They passed several Shrieks on their way to the Queen's vast chamber and their attitude puzzled Anya. The last time she'd been there, they had been militant about her presence, surrounding her and making certain that she didn't stray from the path. This time they scarcely seemed to care that the women were there, let alone where they went in the Hive. Each hard-bodied insectoid would pause, wave its feelers at them, and then continue on without apparent interest.

  "That's weird," Anya muttered, and then coughed at the acrid odor that swirled around them.

  The Dreamer didn't comment, leading her with sure steps and a confident air through the maze of the Hive to the Queen. She was just as massive and frightening as Anya remembered. And this time, she didn't seem especially thrilled to see them. Throwing her gigantic head back, she clacked her pincers together so loudly, the walls vibrated. Shrieks came pouring out of every hole, swarming into the Queen's chamber and surrounding Anya and the Dreamer, their pincers open and threatening.

  "You dare?" the Queen boomed, and Anya thought she was going to pass out.

  "I do not understand," the Dreamer said with amazing calm. "You were informed that we would visit today."

  "You have entered without permission."

  Anya quaked to hear those words echoing around the chamber, staring with horrified fascination at the black gleam of pincers waving in front of her face.

  "You agreed to the visit," the Dreamer said, as if speaking to a wayward child. "When we arrived, we were not met, and no one stopped our entry. May we approach?"

  The Queen tossed her head and made a rumbling noise which was not translated. Probably a good thing, Anya thought abstractly through her fear. She was sure that she didn't want to know what kind of insults or curses a Sh
riek queen could come up with. After a moment, the Shrieks surrounding them rustled and then parted, leaving the way to the Queen clear. Anya was also sure that she didn't want to get any closer.

  But the Dreamer was moving forward and the Shrieks pressed behind her, so she followed on trembling limbs. I foresee lots of nightmares in my future, she thought gloomily, as she stared up once again at the massive Queen.

  "We thank you, Glory of the Stars, for your patience and understanding," the Dreamer murmured, her voice a soothing river of sound.

  Anya didn't know if flattery would work, but she couldn't fault the Thlassnian for trying. To her surprise, it seemed to—the Queen settled with her first limbs folded against her thoracic plating and waved her feelers at them in a calm manner.

  "Proceed," she rumbled, and Anya winced. That was one word she'd hoped never to hear again.

  The Dreamer sank without ceremony to the floor, folding her legs gracefully under her as she pulled her hood back. Then she stared up at Anya with her fantastic rainbow eyes and smiled. "You are weary. Please sit."

  With a quick, leery look up at the enormous head hovering over them, Anya lowered herself to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest gratefully. It wasn't cold in the chamber, but she couldn't stop shaking. Clearing her throat, Anya tried her best to put a brave mask over her terror. "So, what did you two want to talk to me about?"

  "It has come to my attention that Captain Jamison has not told you all of what is to occur," the Dreamer began, tilting her scaled head so that the dim light ran over it in a flare of colors. "While I understand her reasons and respect her decision, I do not wholly agree with allowing you to remain ignorant. It is noble of her to guard the confidence of her allies, and it is prudent of her to protect her plans with silence, but I do not believe it is fair to you. You deserve at the very least to know the path you walk."

  Anya waited for more, but the Dreamer seemed to be watching her for a response. Anya lifted her eyebrows in question and asked, "So does that mean you'll tell me what the captain has planned?"