“Kysra, the High Priestess of the shapeshifters, had always resented Xan for her beauty and scorned her for loving a mere human. She forbade Xan to associate with Rhyff, but Xan defied her, vowing to remain in human form evermore with the great warrior.
“Kysra made a show of relenting, telling Xan that she could keep her human lover if they exiled themselves to the island of Mystern. But Kysra, waiting until Xan and Rhyff were crossing the deep water in their small boat, sent her minions, in the form of giant sea horses, to tip the boat over. Once in the water, Xan changed into a dolphin to save Rhyff. It was at this moment that Kysra cast her spell on Xan, making it impossible for Xan to return to her human form, and sentencing her to eternal existence as a dolphin, raven, or snake, her forms of water, air, and fire.”
Dina was transfixed. The rich, deep voice wove the tapestry of words around her, binding her. She watched his eyes closely, and by the glints of reflected starlight, knew when he shifted his gaze. She wondered what people and places, light years away, he was seeing in his mind’s eye, the eye that was as unreachable as his gray eyes were impenetrable.
“Xan saved Rhyff by pulling him to shore, then changed into a raven to try to communicate with him. It took a long time for Xan-hraef, the raven, to make Rhyff understand about the curse, and even longer for her to tell him, through scratchings in the dirt, of her plan. In her form of Xan-hraef she was going to fly back to Kysra and find a way to kill the priestess, the only way to break the spell and end the curse.
“Rhyff nodded his understanding at last and stroked the shiny black wingfeathers. Xan-hraef cocked her head and sang her farewell, flapping her wings and sailing out of sight on the air currents. Rhyff was left alone on Mystern, but as a warrior and survivor, he had no trouble sustaining himself from the wild land. However, he forswore killing any beast for food, fearing he would inadvertently kill Xan or some other intelligent creature which, like Xan, had been cursed to live out his or her existence as a wolf, hawk, boar, or stag.
“Time passed, and Rhyff, the once great warrior, slayer of men, became Rhyff, the Protector of the Beasts. He was known to all the creatures on the island, and none, not even the smallest, weakest beast, feared him.
“Xan did indeed return to Kysra, and in her snake form tried to strangle her. But Kysra had foreseen Xan’s plan and was prepared for it. She killed Xan easily and afterward laughed at Xan’s feeble effort. But Kysra had many enemies, and in but a handful of years, one of her enemies succeeded where Xan had failed. When Kysra died, all her spells were broken and her curses undone.”
Kyl’s final words sounded in her mind, but Dina didn’t move. Don’t stop. It shouldn’t end . . . “But what of Rhyff on Mystern? Did he grow old, all alone with no company but that of the island creatures?”
Kylariz smiled, as though he had expected her question. “Some say he did, but this is the true story of Rhyff. The story of Rhyff the Protector, unbeknownst to him, had traveled far by wing and by sea creature. Bara the hawk, hearing the story, had flown to Mystern, and Bara the red wolf had befriended Rhyff, assuaging some of his loneliness. When Kysra died, a beautiful young woman with dark chestnut hair and golden eyes came to Rhyff. She was Bara-lett, cursed many years ago by Kysra to be denied her human form, much as Xan had been. Now, the curse broken, Bara-lett the woman came to Rhyff and made love to him, vowing to never leave him. Rhyff never stopped loving Xan, but found a happiness with Bara he had never known. Rhyff and Bara left Mystern and returned to Eaven-la-mel to wed, and it is said by some that a raven appeared in the sky during the wedding ceremony. Some also say that for years afterward in Eaven-la-mel, the sighting of a raven during a wedding was celebrated as portending great luck, but that part of the story is no more than legend . . .”
Kyl bent his head, then looked away to the stars again. Dina stared at him, still held in thrall. Gods, who is this man?
He turned back to her. “What, speechless, little Hellfire? Now I know the trick to keep you quiet,” he said, but not unkindly.
KYLARIZ’S STORY accomplished what his cold demeanor hadn’t. It shut the woman up. Like a child soothed by a bedtime tale, the hellion was mercifully quiet. For now. He’d expected a teary-eyed captive he could cow into silence with a steel-eyed stare and a sharp word. But somehow the “luck of the Roven” had deserted him. He’d plucked the prisoner from hell. Not only was she some sort of Syn military or para-military agent, she was a telepath. The combination of the two clearly gave her an arsenal of colorful mental weapons. The names she’d flung at him with her mind’s voice would cause many a spacer to blush. And while her ceaseless questions had beleaguered his ears, her mind had tried to pick his like a thief after a purse. He’d repelled her probes easily enough, allowing her access only to his most surface thoughts, but he didn’t like anyone poking around his mind. The secret that ensured his survival was too important to risk exposure.
Which reminded him . . . he’d have to remember to put a stop to Sandy’s boasting to everyone in earshot that they were Roven. It was one thing to have Dhagaz after them. It was quite another to have every Syn ship in the fleet nipping at their heels.
He wondered what business a Glacian girl could have on B’harata. Glacians seldom willingly crossed the line they had drawn in space years ago to separate themselves from those they feared and hated. With two exceptions. Profit and destruction. Like Captain Bhrenth, happily dipping into the deep pockets of the dens. Like Duguerra Dhagaz, happily exterminating those he considered to be vermin.
He wondered which category she fell into. She was clearly military, but Syn military agents weren’t allowed on B’harata. With the body and face of a goddess, the mouth of a soldier, and the mental weaponry of a race like the dens, she was a puzzle.
She spoke at last. “That was . . . enchanting, no, that’s not the word I want. ‘Enchanting’ makes it seem like a fairy tale. That was . . . almost real.”
If she only knew. He looked away. “Oh, aye. They’re almost real.”
“Hearing a raider recite a love story is the last thing I would have expected.”
For all her soldier-smarts, she obviously knew nothing about spacers. “And what surprises you more—that the likes of me can spin a tale or talk of love? Spacers are the best storytellers in the galaxy, and raiders are no different. There’s little else to do on a non-sleep journey except to retell old stories and weave new ones. The best get passed from man to man, ship to ship, world to world. And as for love, aye, there are plenty who scoff at the idea, but that doesn’t mean they can’t tell a story.”
Love. Did he still know what it felt like after all these years? He thought about Axial. He’d loved her, but the memories nowadays fueled hatred more than love. He wasn’t sure anymore that he even remembered what it had been like to love. “And then there are a few who do actually know what the word means.”
“And in which category are you?”
He studied her face. Leave it to a woman to try to turn everyone, even her enemy, into a lover. “I know what the word means, but that’s all it is to me—a word. So don’t ye be gettin’ your hopes up that I’ll go easy on you just because I told you a fanciful story.”
That shut her up again.
In the shuttle time and distance slipped away, with no reference to mark the passing of either save the displays on the console. He could have easily invaded the girl’s mind to learn all her secrets, but in doing so would reveal his own. So there was no joining of thoughts and no idle conversation. He dwelled on his life before the Red Zone, long ago renamed the Crimson Rain in his mind, and the hellion dwelled on Gods knew what.
Suddenly it was important for him to remember what it had been like to love. Not for the hellion, but for himself. His life then had been marked by peace and prosperity, an evident change from his present state. Axial, with her ebullient youth, had reawakened in him the wonder of the galaxy, and thro
ugh her eyes he’d experienced the stars as if for the first time. He’d had both Axial and the stars, and no greater loves were needed or sought.
But he and his kind were destiny incarnate, and change was inevitable. But never had he planned nor expected the Crimson Rain, and though it had brought rebirth, it had been all wrong. And even with his resolve to remember her love, it was the shot that killed her that echoed through his mind, and through his solar eye he saw all the wrongs born in the wake of the Crimson Rain. The tightening of the bans. More ships and resources sent to the frontier and fewer to deal with the worlds already in Synergy control. For every pointless frontier skirmish, a colony like Ror abandoned. For every net thrown to trap illegal dark outworlders, an exquisite world like Eruthros destroyed by those deemed “legal.” No doubt made so by the likes of you. The girl’s words rang in his head. Was she right? Was he part of the problem? No doubt. He felt more tired than he had in a long time.
The console emitted a beep, and his head jerked with the return to the here and now. The sound signaled approach to Ror, but instead of allowing himself a smile, his unrest still held him. Taking the girl had been wrong. It, too, begged righting. He tried to formulate a quick plan to ease his mind. Captain Bhrenth would quickly spread the word of the girl’s capture. Kyl wouldn’t need her anymore. Once in Paradise he’d free her, and with her release, he’d be free of this nightmare.
Another tone from the console informed him otherwise.
“Xe a che jinsun ris!” Another ship had come into range, and it wasn’t Dhagaz.
The profanity brought the girl’s head up, but he was too busy to give her more than a quick glance.
“What is it? The mission ship?” she asked.
“No, a space rat,” he replied.
“A what?”
“A raider,” he said roughly, annoyed to have to take the time to explain it to her.
He saw her frown out of the corner of his eye. “Not a friend, I take it?”
“No. I know this ship and its pilot well. Definitely no friend.”
“What’s he doing?”
“Playing cat and mouse. He knows who I am, and if he can take my ship, my cargo, or kill me, he will.”
“What are you going to do?”
“His ship is superior to this shuttle. All I can do now is try to keep out of his reach. Ror’s coming up. With luck, we’ll make it.” He glanced at the girl, and seeing the puzzled look on her face, elaborated. “He’s smart. He knows I’m hurting—that some calamity has already befallen me, else I wouldn’t be in this shuttle. He’s like a predator smelling blood—he won’t be able to resist coming after me.”
“Who is it?”
“Vaizya Repere.” He checked the sensors on the console, but the larger ship was still closing. He calculated the distance to Ror and the time left before the other ship would close to firing range. The results weren’t good.
“We’re not going to make it, are we?” she asked.
He spared her a quick look. They weren’t going to make it, but the Code kicked in. Never admit defeat. Especially to another. “I never think that,” he replied.
Ror was now visible through the view port, and the small red and brown satellite world grew larger as they watched, the huge golden gas giant Gigas filling the rest of the port.
“Can’t you go any faster?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Speed is precisely calculated for aerocapture. I use the atmosphere to slow the ship into a capture orbit. One pass, then reentry, and we’re down.”
“Does the shuttle have shields?” she asked.
Her ceaseless questions irritated him, but answering was easier than trying to shut her up. “Strong enough for space dust and atmosphere entry, not to repel weapon fire.”
“Gods.”
“Listen. He won’t try to destroy us. If he does, he won’t gain either a ship or cargo. I told you, cat and mouse. He’ll just play with us. Thirty minutes to atmosphere. If he’s going to try something, it’ll be now. His ship can’t make planetfall.”
As if on cue, he saw a flash of light erupt from the other ship. He had the shuttle programmed for elusive maneuvering. The computer calculated the trajectory of the shot and automatically made a course correction to avoid a direct hit. He held his breath as the pulsing ball of light passed the shuttle harmlessly on the starboard side. More flashes spouted from the approaching ship, and he felt the shuttle veer to the right, then to the left.
“Twenty-five minutes. I’ll have to take us off EM to prepare for atmosphere entry,” he explained, his eyes alternating from the displays to the view screens.
Abruptly the flashes of light ceased to burst from the pursuing ship. He heard the girl slowly let her breath out.
“We’re almost clear.” Bloody whoreson. What was Vaizya doing here? The last Kyl had heard, Vaizya was entrenched in a gambling marathon on Obylon. Normally Kyl wouldn’t mind sparring with him or any other space rat, but not now. Not with the Tisiphone lost. Not separated from Sandy. Not with the distraction of a captive. A female captive. And a telepathic Syn agent to boot.
Almost clear. But Vaizya hadn’t backed off. A tone sounded on the console. “Damn! He’s going to detonate . . .” But the world went black, and the first thing to penetrate the darkness was the sound of the girl’s voice vying with the blaring of the ship’s alarms.
“Captain! Captain Kylariz! Can you hear me? Wake up! Wake up!”
He lifted his head and pulled himself upright. Ror pulsed large and red before him like a beating heart. Alarms blared ominously inside the cabin, and red cabin lights flashed. He stabbed one control after another. The warning lights continued to flash, but the alarms stopped. With a low curse, he leaned back in his seat. There was no hope for it.
“That blast damaged a portion of the automated guidance control system. I’ve switched to manual override and adjusted our trajectory, but the angle of reentry is still too steep. We’re going to miss Paradise, but that’s the least of our worries. If the heat of descent doesn’t destroy us, our landing will. Paradise is surrounded by rough terrain. There won’t be a safe landing site.”
DINA HEARD KYLARIZ’S unspoken words in her mind. We’re going to die. She looked at him with eyes blinking against the dancing flare of orange light that filled the view port. Her mouth was half open, and she wanted to speak, but no words came out. When they finally did, her words were surprisingly calm.
“Kylariz, please take the restraints off. If I’m going to die, I want to die free.”
Turning to her, he studied her face, then rose and moved behind her. He barked a brief command, and the voice-keyed cuffs sprang open and clattered to the floor.
“You’re not going to die. Unstrap yourself and come back here.”
For once she obeyed without question and was at his side in an eyeblink. He opened a small compartment to the rear and motioned her inside. “Get in and fasten yourself in tight. Other than that, don’t touch a thing. I’ll be right back.”
A moment later he entered the small compartment, and when he straightened, she could see that he carried the breastplate and his utility and weapon belt. She swiveled her head as far as she could and saw him secure the items in a large stowage locker to the rear of the compartment. Turning quickly back to the hatch, he closed it, then manually sealed it. Just as swiftly he stepped forward and settled his long body into the seat next to hers.
Her fear subsided, and with him beside her, she felt a strange feeling of security and comfort. He watched the console display intently and after a moment, keyed a sequence, lifted a panel, and hit a large button.
She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth together as she felt the G force drive her body down into the seat. Then as quickly as the jettisoned pod had thrust skyward, she felt the acceleration stop, and the pod seemed to hang in the sk
y like a bird floating on an air current. Kylariz worked more controls, and a view port opened in front of them, revealing an ugly, mottled landscape draped with glistening beaded chains.
As they drifted downward, Dina saw that the glittering beads were small channels of water that connected numerous small ponds, and she could tell that Kylariz was trying to maneuver the pod to a safe landing spot on the uneven boggy surface. At last, just when Dina thought they would plunk into the middle of a wide pond of water, a solid-looking patch of ground appeared. The pod hit and sank a little, but the landing pads finally took hold, and the craft steadied.
She let out her breath slowly, not realizing she’d held it, and took another deep breath. “I can’t believe it. We’re alive,” she said softly, almost to herself.
“Aye, we’re alive. But I’ve just lost everything I worked the past three years for.” He turned to look at her. “I’m beginning to think you’re bad luck, little Hellfire.”
Dina turned to return the stare. Though spoken mildly, his words had angered her. “Well, your arrival hasn’t exactly portended great luck for me, either. You’re not the only one here who’s been left with nothing.”
“Oh, I didn’t say I’ve been left nothing. I have you. You are now the single, but very valuable, commodity I possess. Welcome to the Slave Desert.”
She shivered. The festering landscape beyond the view port was as bleak and forlorn as her future.
Chapter Four
The Sundrion
THE FOLLOWING morning, Sage left for his job at the port, and Cyonne pressed Rayn to see Ryol. The Glacian community could wait a day or two, she reasoned, but his brother could not. It was his duty, she said.
Duty. The word was like grit in his mouth, unpleasant and hard to ignore. And even harder to rid oneself of. There was no help for it, and he knew Cyonne wouldn’t relent until Rayn made an effort to see him.
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