Jericho Falling

by Jaleta Clegg

  "That isn't what we're dealing with here," Clark said.

  "You said start with the basics. None of you have ever had any training, have you? Except the old Mart." She waited to see if any of us would correct her. None of us did. "But you were all tested, because an untrained, unrecognized telepath can be very dangerous. Empaths aren't quite as dangerous, emotions aren't as focused, but they can still cause major problems. Think of what would happen if one of them broadcast panic in a crowded station. So, the government, both Sector and Empirical, spends enormous amounts of time and money identifying latent sensitives with enough power to cause problems." She pointed at me. "You went to the Academy. There is a reason they don't restrict it only to Patrol enlistees. One that has nothing to do with space travel."

  "How do you know all this?" Clark leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and watching her.

  "Lady Rina made sure I was prepared." Larella tucked a stray curl behind one ear. "The Family has a vested interest in their own. It's well documented that those of Gypsy heritage are more likely to be sensitives."

  "Are you one of the ones they send out looking for undiscovered latents?" I admit it came out more cynical than I intended. Larella was just so young. And stupid. No, not stupid, just very good at appearing that way.

  "I haven't been trained for that," she said. "I am a psychic healer, trained to read auras and diagnose imbalances in a person's krya. Before you ask, it's the energy flow within and surrounding a person. Yours is much calmer now," she added to me.

  "That isn't telepathy or empathy," Jasyn said.

  "You're Family, you should know," Larella said, cocking her head at Jasyn.

  "My parents were disowned before I was born," Jasyn said. "Whatever folklore and heritage you think I should know, I don't. Lady Rina's been our only contact until recently. She didn't teach us anything about auras or personal energy fields."

  "It's called the Gift," Larella said. "The power to read auras, to manipulate personal energy flows, and sometimes read the future through the cards. If one is particularly Gifted, they can see visions of futures written in a person's hands."

  I remembered the first time I'd met Lady Rina. She'd looked at my hands and been disturbed. So far, I'd lived up to her predictions of danger, disaster, and unexpected journeys. She'd only read my cards twice since then, that I was aware of. Both times, she'd been upset and puzzled over what she'd seen.

  "Lady Rina is very Gifted," Larella added. "There are others, with different Gifts. Both within the Family and without. Some are human, some are humans that have evolved, some are not human."

  "What am I?" Mart asked intently, as if his whole existence depended on knowing.

  "I don't know," Larella admitted. "I've never felt anything like your energies. The best I can describe it is golden glitter in a wave of power."

  Mart flexed his hands from fists to flat and spread them on the table. "I have powers?"

  "They're blocked," Larella said. "The buildup probably caused you to link to Dace. The power needed somewhere to go. You've spent more time with her than the others. I manipulated your energies to bleed the excess safely now."

  "What else is in my head that I can't reach?" Mart asked. "How much danger is it going to put you in?"

  "Perhaps that's why Lady Rina sent me and not someone else," Larella said. "You should both feel better now."

  "This is weirding me out," Jerimon said. "I think I'll go talk hyperdrive theory with Beryn. It makes more sense."

  "Tell him to keep his hands off the fluctuator coils," I called after him as he headed for the engine room. "They're supposed to run hot."

  "Yes, ma'am," Jerimon said and flipped me a salute. He disappeared into the engine room before I could retaliate.

  "Where does it leave us?" Jasyn mused.

  "Pretty much where we were before," I said. "I'm going to sort the other box."

  "You just don't want to do dishes," Clark teased.

  "That, too," I said.

  "May I help?" Mart said. He looked like a lost puppy waiting to be kicked, like he expected me to say no.

  "Certainly," I said and smiled. Whatever Larella had done, it really had helped. It didn't mean I liked her, or her stuff all over my cabin. But at least I could be civil about it now.

  Chapter 10

  Estelle waited by the door, a quiet shadow.

  Lady Rina set a final card into position. She frowned at the pattern laid out on her table. She studied it for a long moment, then swept the cards into a pile with a frustrated sigh. "What is it, Estelle?"

  "A visitor."

  "I am not receiving visitors this afternoon." She shuffled the thick cards.

  "He is most insistent."

  Lady Rina paused, her glance shifting to her companion. "If it is Leon, tell him he runs my businesses his way no matter what instructions I give."

  "I believe he is Patrol."

  Lady Rina set the cards in the center of the table. "Patrol? They are not part of this." She tapped one elegant finger on the deck, then turned the top card. A smiling lord on a white horse mocked her. "The knight errant. Interesting. You may show him in, Estelle."

  Estelle left the room, silent as a ghost.

  Lady Rina fingered the single card, her thumb rubbing over the knight's mocking smile and sly eyes. Circles within circles, and each reading more disturbing than the last. She would have gone herself, if she could. Larella's Gift might not be sufficient for the trouble she faced. She sniffed as she stuffed the knight errant back into the deck. Jasyn had been given help. It would be up to her and Dace to make use of it.

  "Please, come in." She didn't need to look to know her visitor had arrived. He moved quietly, but his cologne gave him away. She spread the deck of cards across the table, faces hidden.

  "Lady Rina, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have heard a lot about you." He seated himself across from her.

  She took her time studying the man in the rumpled Patrol uniform with Ensign's bars on his collar. His hair was white, his eyes opaque silver, and his aura a most interesting shade of blue. Lady Rina allowed herself a small smile as she dropped her attention to her cards. Her fingers smoothed the worn backs. "You are no Ensign of the Patrol."

  He cocked his head. "And you are not a woman to be underestimated. I need your help."

  "Why should I give it to you?" She turned up the first card. The Jester? Most interesting.

  The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. He rested his finger on the Jester. "I bring no deceit, not for you."

  "You are a purveyor of deceit, lies, and trickery. Secrets are your trade." She rested her hands on the deck waiting for the shiver of power to tell her which card came next. It would help if she knew which questions she needed answered.

  The man sighed. "Were. I may not have a career to return to. Do you mind harboring a fugitive for a while? You can always claim I threatened you."

  "Are you?"

  "Threatening you? Never." He picked up the Jester angling it to the light from the shaded lamp beside her. "Dace is scared of your cards. I think I understand why." He set it back on the table.

  A tingle ran through her fingers at the name. She plucked the card from the deck and turned it face up. Death's skeletal face leered from beneath a black hood. "You bring her great danger."

  "Not by choice, not this time. I need her help and I don't know how else to reach her." He set a small wooden box on the table between them, on top of the Jester and Death. "Will you make sure she gets these?"

  Lady Rina touched the clasp. "May I?"

  He nodded.

  She lifted the lid. She ignored the data cube and the bundle of credit chips. A tiny necklace of gold trapped a fluttering jeweled pendant shaped like a butterfly. She lifted it from the box, letting the delicate creature dance on her breath. The wings were the color of dried blood. Rina sucked in a breath, then dropped it into the box and slammed the lid.

  "It reeks of power."

  "You felt
that? Interesting."

  She backed away from her cards and the box. "What are you?"

  "What, not who? I'm Grant Lowell."

  She reached for his hand. He allowed her to turn it palm up. She cradled it in hers. He had strong hands, small for a man. She ran her fingers over the lines on his palm. "You have power. Different but the same."

  He smiled. "Some day we will have to spend time discussing it. But not today. I'm only one jump ahead of my arrest warrant." He pulled his hand free.

  "You bring trouble to my house?"

  "Not willingly. Please, just give this to Dace. She'll know what to do with it."

  Rina studied his face as he stood. "She has enough trouble without your burden."

  Lowell rubbed a hand over his chin. Every movement spoke of weariness. "I'd leave her out of it entirely, if I could. But I can't."

  Lady Rina tapped her cards. "Choose three."

  He studied her face before dropping his gaze to the cards still spread across the table. The Jester and Death watched. Lowell pulled three cards quickly, flipping them face up on top of Death.

  "Hooded Man, Sword, and the Eye." She shivered. "Be very careful."

  "One last card for you," Lowell said. He slid a single card from the deck, fingering the worn edges before turning it face up. A wreath of white trumpet flowers bloomed in a tangle of deep green leaves.

  Rina's face paled. She slapped the cards face down and gathered them together.

  "What?" Lowell asked. "What did you see?"

  "My time is short. And so is yours. Please, go. Estelle will see you to the door."

  He rested his hand on top of hers, squeezing lightly. "Thank you. If you ever need my help—"

  "I will not need your help, Grant Lowell." She folded her hands into her lap.

  He crossed to the door, hesitating as if he would say something more, but he remained silent as he followed Estelle from the parlor.

  Lady Rina leaned back from her cards. She was afraid of them, for the first time since she had sensed their power when she was barely seven. Her hand shook as she reached for the deck. One last reading. For Dace. And herself.

  She laid the cards in overlapping circles. She turned them face up, one by one. Each card added to the growing sense of danger gnawing at her belly. This was more than Gypsy politics. This was more than crime syndicates. Some other power moved in opposition, a power she'd never tasted before.

  "Estelle?" She waited until her companion appeared, silent as always, in the doorway. "Have Leon send a summons to the Phoenix Rising. I need—" Her tongue twisted, unable to form the words. A spike of pain flared in her head. Her vision blurred.

  "Lady?" Estelle hurried across the carpet.

  Rina slumped from her chair to the floor. She gagged on the words that wouldn't come.

  Estelle cradled her head as she made the call to Leon. "Send help. Please. She's having another stroke."

  The room faded from her consciousness leaving only pain behind.

  Chapter 11

  I settled on the floor at the end of the cargo bay. I pulled out the last box of necklaces and explained my sorting system to Mart.

  "You aren't angry at me for getting you in this trouble?" he asked as I pulled the box open.

  "It's not the first time I've been in trouble. You needed help, we gave it."

  "Without asking payment."

  I shrugged. "You had one of these," I said, sliding a necklace out of the bag. A tiny winged creature glittered on a strand of gold. "There's only one person in the Empire that makes them. I owe her for giving me these."

  He touched the jeweled wings. "The green of leaves. It's beautiful."

  "Very," Larella said over his shoulder. She leaned over him to see, resting one hand on his back.

  "This one's more your color," I said and handed her one with three pink winged butterflies on several thin strands of gold.

  She held it up and watched them dance on the faint breath of air from the vent above us.

  Mart still held the green one cupped in one hand. "I remember these. I remember watching them dancing in the wind. I can almost see a face." He shook his head and slid the necklace back into its bag. "I only feel sad when I touch them."

  "You said something to me before about children dying," I said, probing to see what his reaction would be. "There was blood on the stones of Jericho."

  "I don't remember Jericho. Only sadness. And pain."

  "That person is not you," Larella said. "Not now. And maybe never again."

  "Here," I said and handed him a handful of bags. Larella reluctantly slid hers into its golden velvet bag. "Keep it," I said to her.

  "Are you sure?" She studied me, almost as if she expected me to grow fangs and bite her.

  "I have plenty, I can share."

  "Are you still mad at me?" she asked, cocking her head to one side. It made her look winsome. "Jasyn explained about water and the rest. I've never flown on a small ship before."

  "I'm sorry for yelling."

  "Considering how many spikes you had in your aura, I'm not surprised. You're forgiven."

  "Don't get obnoxious or I'll take it back," I threatened.

  "I'd offer to help," she said as she tucked the bag away, "but there isn't enough room in here."

  "You can always help Jerimon wash dishes."

  "He's down in the engine room playing a dice game with Beryn. I'm still debating about telling him that Beryn uses loaded dice."

  I laughed. "Do you play cards, Larella?" I had a very sneaky idea.

  "Some, I'm not very good."

  "Have Jasyn coach you and we'll play Jerimon later."

  "You cheat, don't you?"

  "Only against him. He hasn't figured out how yet. He just keeps losing."

  "Lady Rina warned me you were devious. She didn't tell me the half of it. I think I'll go help Jasyn wash the dishes." She grinned slyly.

  "Why do you cheat against him?" Mart asked as Larella left.

  I took a handful of bags and opened them. "Mostly just to watch him try to figure out how we do it. Partly because he gets much too cocky when he wins."

  "You love him, don't you?"

  "No. It's a complicated story, Mart."

  We sorted in silence for a while. I heard the murmur of Jasyn and Larella talking in the lounge.

  "Why don't you wear these?" Mart asked as he held up a particularly delicate trio of palest peach.

  "Because I don't wear jewelry." I didn't say because they made me feel clumsy and painfully aware of the grease under my chipped nails.

  He caught the chain of the cat necklace I wore and pulled it out. I stopped sorting and reached for the necklace. The look on his face stopped me. It was almost as if he were looking at something light years away. His brown eyes were soft, a melting caramel color.

  He touched the sleeping cat. "The person who gave you this is connected to you. He cares about you. He's unsure of how you feel. He didn't own it long." His gaze dropped to the ring I wore on the middle finger of my left hand. My father's wedding ring. "He owned that ring. I felt it before, didn't I?" He looked at me for reassurance.

  "It was my father's, yes. He sent me the necklace not long ago."

  "Tell me," Mart asked.

  "What is there to tell?" I was reluctant to talk about my feelings at the best of times with people I knew. I may have connected somehow to Mart, but I didn't know him.

  "Tell me about families. I can't remember if I even have one." He looked down at the necklaces and velvet bags on the floor between us.

  That statement reached me like nothing else could have. I hadn't had a family until I'd met Jasyn. She considered me her adopted sister. It had taken me months to quit expecting her to pack up and leave some night. I had a family now, because I'd built one from scratch.

  "I grew up in an orphanage." I picked up another bag and opened it. It was easier than looking at Mart while I talked. "My mother died when I was three. I didn't meet my father until only a few months
ago. He had no idea he even had a daughter." I tucked the bag into the appropriate drawer. "My family, such as it is, isn't even close to normal."

  "But you have one." Mart opened another bag, slid out the fluttering necklace, then tucked it back away.

  "Because I collected one," I said.

  "There are others you are connected to? Friends? People you know?"

  "I guess," I said, realizing just how many people I knew. Most of them called me friend, among other things.

  "You said you were going to talk to Lowell about me. Who is he?"

  I wasn't sure how to answer that question. Lowell was many things to me. Someone I hated, at first. Someone I blamed my troubles on. I'd gradually come to respect him. He'd been the one to pull me out of madness. He was the one who'd offered it to me in the first place. I was at peace with him now, but still a long way from calling him friend.

  "Someone I trust," I finally said. "He's got a lot of connections, a lot of power." That was an understatement. I'd finally learned his true rank in the Patrol. He answered directly to the Emperor. He could move entire planets if he wanted.

  "He might know who I am," Mart said. "He might know what I've done." He looked almost too hopeful.

  "There's a very good chance he can find out."

  I pulled out more of the bags. We were halfway through the box.

  "What if I've done something horrible?" Mart whispered. "Can they punish me because the person I was before did something awful?"

  "I don't know. Here, sort these." I put a big double handful in front of him.

  "What's this?" he asked as he pulled a strip of paper from the pile. He handed it to me.

  It looked like a scrap torn from a receipt. I almost threw it out as garbage. There were numbers scribbled on the bottom. And a single word. Rowan. The numbers made no sense if they were prices. They looked more like vector coordinates to my untrained eye. There was a single letter on the ripped portion of the paper. A capital J.