razorsedge

by Lisanne Norman

  “Stick him in the back of our van,” said Rezac, slinging his gun back over his shoulder.

  What’ve you done to him? demanded Tiernay, his mental tone outraged.

  I haven’t shot him, sent Rezac dryly. Just dump him and let’s get out of here. He headed for the front of the vehicle.

  The engine was running by the time Tiernay joined him in the cab.

  “That wasn’t necessary,” he said angrily as Rezac pulled away from the store.

  “You want the law after us as well as the Valtegans? I thought not. Now we have a chance of getting out of Khalma alive. In a white van, we might even make it across country to the monastery. I reckon that’s worth a lump on his head. You got a problem about what I do, we’ll settle it later, not now,” said Rezac coldly.

  *

  Once they’d left the city, Rezac pulled up in the first rest area they came to.

  “I’m going to check on Nyaz. If you see anything that looks like trouble, call me,” he said, opening the door.

  “Rezac,” said Tiernay, reaching out to stop him. “You were right back there. I just wanted you to know.”

  Rezac’s ears flicked in acknowledgment before he got out. Maybe these younglings were beginning to realize there was a real world after all.

  The snow underfoot was deeper here than in the city; it sent a chill through the pads of his feet. He stopped to sniff the air. More was on the way unless he was mistaken. Going round to the back, he pulled open one of the doors and climbed inside.

  “How is he?” he asked, closing it behind him.

  “I’ve done what I can,” Zashou said, “but that’s virtually nothing. How long till we reach the monastery?”

  “About three hours’ drive.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think he’ll make it.”

  “We’ll see. You and the others start rearranging the load so we can talk across the back seats, I’ll have a look at his shoulder.”

  Found a first aid kit under the seat, sent Tiernay from the front.

  Hang onto it. I’ve got this lot shifting the load. You should be able to hand it back to me in a few minutes, replied Rezac, flicking back Nyaz’s eyelids and checking his pulse. His color was bad and his pulse weak. It didn’t look hopeful.

  He waited till the first aid kit was handed back before undoing the bloody makeshift dressing. Zashou had returned and was crouched at his side ready to help.

  “I wouldn’t look,” he said. “Check through the kit and give me the largest dressing there is.”

  “I’m all right,” she said, her tone slightly irritated.

  Rezac raised an eye ridge at her, then turned back to Nyaz’s shoulder. He lifted the pad exposing the wound. The shoulder was a mess. The joint was shattered, pieces of bone gleaming through the ruin of torn flesh and muscle. Blood was still oozing sluggishly from it. He heard Zashou gasp.

  “The dressing?”

  She handed him one.

  He unwrapped it and placed it over the wound, securing it in place with the short strips of bandage attached to it.

  “Pass me a couple of bandages,” he said, holding his hand out to her.

  He bound the dressing on more securely, using the remaining bandage to bind Nyaz’s arm firmly across his chest.

  “I thought the wound would have been cauterized by the energy bolt,” said Zashou, her voice subdued.

  “The glass probably did more damage,” said Rezac, getting up. “Keep him warm and as still as possible. He might make it.”

  Vartra caught hold of him. “He’ll lose his arm, won’t he?” he asked quietly.

  Rezac nodded then turned to look back at Zashou. I don’t suppose there’s any analgesics in that kit?

  She shook her head.

  Then pray he either doesn’t make it or stays unconscious till we get to the monastery. He was aware of Zashou’s gaze following him as he walked forward to the driver’s seat.

  You did well, he sent. As he climbed over the seat into the front, the last rays of daylight shone through the windscreen, dazzling him briefly.

  At the other side of the room, Zashou moaned in her sleep. Already their minds were beginning to harmonize as their Leska Link began to strengthen for their Link day. Like Rezac, she was reliving those first days as a fugitive from the Valtegans— the days when she’d first become aware of Rezac as more than a fellow student.

  You did well, he sent, his tone warmer than she had felt from him before.

  He’s a strange one, she thought. Too much the loner, refusing to allow anyone to get close to him. As he climbed over the seat into the front, the last of the daylight caught him, showing up the sleek brown fur that covered his muscular frame. He looked back at her briefly, almost as if he’d caught her thoughts.

  She pulled back mentally and busied herself making sure Nyaz was as comfortable as possible.

  *

  The jolting of the van woke her. Her head felt thick and she ached all over. “Where are we?” she mumbled, pushing herself into a sitting position and peering around in the dark.

  “On the forestry track,” said Jaisa, who’d been watching Nyaz while she slept. “We’re nearly there.”

  “How’s Nyaz?”

  “Still with us.”

  “Shanka,” called Rezac from the front. “When we get there, I want you and Jaisa to go ahead and organize a work party of six to join us at the tunnel mouth. I’ll need a couple of people to help conceal the van and cover its tracks, a couple for the stretcher, and the rest can help carry the provisions in the van up to the monastery. Tiernay and I will unload while we wait. Dr. Vartra, you go with them.”

  “Will do,” called out Jaisa when Shanka didn’t reply.

  Zashou glanced at her mate. “What’s wrong?” she asked quietly.

  “Him.”

  “Who? Rezac?”

  “Tiernay’s supposed to be in charge, not him. Who does he think he is, ordering us all around?” he said, his voice low but angry.

  “If Tiernay’s not bothered, why are you? Rezac got us here safely.”

  “I’d have expected some support from you,” he said.

  “Not when you’re wrong.”

  Shanka subsided into silence until the van drew to a stop.

  “Let’s move, people,” said Tiernay from the front. “Dr. Vartra, will you tell Dr. Nyaam that Nyaz is seriously wounded and has lost a lot of blood, please?”

  “Absolutely,” said the doctor, getting to his feet. “I’ll make sure the infirmary’s ready for him.”

  Slinging her gun over her shoulder, Jaisa scrambled to the rear doors, pushed them open, and disappeared into the night.

  Zashou made sure Nyaz was well covered by the sacks, then put on her jacket. The air gusting into the van was freezing. She made her way to the opening and jumped out to land in thick snow. She gasped at the shock of it, wrapped her arms around her chest, and plowed through the snow to the front of the van. Flakes were landing on her eyelashes, making her blink as they melted.

  Rezac was sprawled across the wheel, head resting on his forearms. He looked up as she tapped on the window, then reached over to open the door.

  His tiredness hit her like a physical wave.

  “I’m coming,” he said, climbing down.

  She followed him back to the rear where Tiernay joined them.

  “Zashou, you get inside and push the boxes to the door. Rezac and I’ll carry them,” said Tiernay.

  “Fine by me,” she said, the relief at being able to get out of the cold evident in her voice. Tiernay gave her a hand up.

  They’d barely finished unloading when Jaisa returned with the work party— and Dr. Nyaam, who immediately headed for Nyaz.

  “Where’s Shanka?” Tiernay asked Jaisa.

  “He decided to stay,” she replied, refusing eye contact.

  They both picked up her unvoiced thought.

  “You’ll have to watch that one,” Zashou heard Rezac say to Tiernay in a low voice. “He’s
a liability.”

  “He’s my problem,” said Tiernay, turning away.

  “See that he doesn’t become mine,” Rezac growled, opening the cab door. Zashou was sitting on the passenger seat. He hesitated, then got in, closing the door behind him.

  “I thought you’d want to get up to the monastery with the others,” he said.

  “I’m not much use at carrying weights, but I can help with the van,” she said, looking over at him. “We each do what we can.”

  He nodded.

  “Can’t you leave this to someone else?” she asked. “You’re dead on your feet.”

  “No. I want it done properly. Our lives depend on it.” He turned to look into the interior. “How is he?”

  “Touch and go,” Dr. Nyaam answered. “Any idea how long he’s been in shock?”

  “None, I was driving. Zashou?”

  She shook her head. “I slept through the last part of the journey. Jaisa might know.”

  “Did anyone give him food or drink after he sustained the injury?”

  “No,” said Zashou. “He’s been unconscious since it happened.”

  “Let’s get him up to the infirmary,” said Nyaam, moving back to let the stretcher bearers load him. “Be careful,” he warned, “he’s on a drip.”

  When they were clear, a couple of youths climbed in.

  “We’re with you,” said one as the other shut the rear doors.

  Rezac drove back down the track until he came to a fork. Taking the left branch, he headed along it for a couple of kilometers before coming to a stop in front of a rocky outcrop. Ahead was a large tangle of thorny bushes still covered in thick green leaves. The few orange berries that the birds hadn’t eaten made a splash of color against the layers of snow.

  “This’ll do.” He turned round to the youths in the rear of the van. “Try to open the bushes out enough to let me drive into the center.”

  They nodded, drawing machetes out of their belts before they got down.

  “You’d be better off getting out now,” he said to Zashou. “There’s no need for both of us to get ripped up by the thorns.”

  Nodding, she climbed out, aware that he was watching her. She walked ahead to stand in the shelter of the rock face. The headlights illuminated her, the light glinting off the beads in her hair and the silver bracelets that encircled her wrists.

  Stamping her feet to keep them warm, she tucked her hands under her armpits. They seemed to be almost finished now. The bushes grew in long prickle-studded arches and the two younglings, both having had the sense to bring thick gloves, had been pulling these back and anchoring them under the shorter growths on the outside edges of the bushes. A large area near the heart of the bush was rapidly becoming a lot clearer.

  As they began to hack at the ground growth with their machetes, Zashou looked back to the van, opening her mouth in a smile for Rezac. He glanced away, obviously unwilling to catch her eye.

  She frowned, looking away quickly herself. Had she done something wrong? Surely not. She was only being friendly. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by one of the lads yelling “Ready!” and beckoning Rezac forward.

  He started up the engine and slowly rolled the van into the heart of the bushes. It was a tight fit. Cutting the motor and lights, he opened the door and climbed down onto the relatively snow-free ground. She watched as, keeping his face to the van side, he inched his way out, the tiny sharp thorns catching on his tunic and legs. Just before he cleared the bush, a tenacious sucker wrapped itself around his calf, digging viciously into his flesh as he tried to pull loose. With a few choice words, he ripped his leg free and stumbled out into the clearing.

  “Cover it up,” he ordered, hopping on one leg as he rubbed the other, trying to get the tiny thorns out.

  Zashou hid a grin behind her hand and tried to swallow her laughter.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” he growled, refusing to look at her as he gave up on the leg.

  The van concealed to his satisfaction, branches were cut for each of them to use as switches to erase the tire tracks and their footprints. The two younglings went ahead, Zashou and Rezac following a few meters behind them to make sure no traces of their passage remained.

  The snow was falling faster now, adding another layer to conceal the marks of their passage.

  Khuushoi is certainly smiling on us tonight, she sent to Rezac.

  He grunted. I don’t hold much faith in Goddesses or Gods.

  *

  Rezac glanced sideways at the female as every now and then she walked backward to check the effectiveness of her path-sweeping. Despite himself, he was beginning to be impressed by her tenacity. Intelligent, flamboyant in personality and image, it was natural to assume she was the same as her husband. Shanka didn’t know what hard work was, but Zashou was a reliable and diligent member of the little research team headed by Dr. Vartra.

  She played hard, too. Her main friends were the other members of their group, though to his knowledge she’d had a couple of lovers among the other students over the year they had all known each other.

  Her mate did just enough work to manage to stay with the team and make it appear that he was doing more. He was frequently seen around campus with one if not two of his current half dozen females. He had money, and they enjoyed helping him spend it.

  Rezac snorted in disgust. He despised people like Shanka, the socially advantaged who could buy their way out of any problem. He’d had dealings with too many of them in the past.

  He felt a hand on his arm and realized Zashou was talking to him.

  “Rezac, what is it? Gods, you’re freezing!” she said.

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “No, you’re not. Your fur is standing on end. You were exhausted when we arrived, never mind now. Your body can’t cope with this cold. We’ve got to get you into the warm as soon as possible.”

  “I’m fine, I tell you,” he snapped.

  She grabbed hold of him, forcing him to stop. “Rezac, the snow has set in for the night. Even if we did nothing, our tracks would be gone by morning. Leave it to the younglings: They’re dressed for it. One casualty today is enough! We don’t need you becoming hypothermic.”

  He hesitated. There was sense in what she said and now that he’d stopped moving, he could feel himself trembling with fatigue and the cold.

  “Come on, let’s go ahead,” she said, pulling him onward.

  He nodded finally, throwing his branch into the nearest bush.

  She did likewise and they increased their speed, overtaking the two youths.

  “I’ll leave it to you,” said Rezac. “We’re going on ahead.”

  They nodded, giving a brief wave as Zashou and Rezac passed them.

  Gamely Zashou plodded through the snow in Rezac’s wake. His longer legs took him farther ahead with each stride. Just as she thought she’d lost him, his hand grasped her.

  “You’re not in much better shape yourself,” he said, “despite your jacket.” He swung her up into his arms, refusing to put her down despite her protests. After a few minutes she stopped complaining, realizing they were actually making better speed.

  “About time you shut up,” he said. “Nearly deafened me with your moaning, yet you were the one that said we had to get back quickly! You need to learn your own limits, then you won’t pick a job you aren’t able to cope with.”

  “I didn’t realize the snow was so deep,” she said. “And you didn’t realize it was so cold!”

  He grunted and continued walking in silence, aware of the warmth of her body in his arms and her scent in his nostrils.

  He woke suddenly, hypersensitive to her presence, only aware of their Link and his need for her. It had begun well enough, he was sure of it. So vivid had the dream been that he could still feel the pressure of her body against his chest.

  *

  In her bed, she moved restlessly and once again the pull of their Link surged through him—
and her, calling them together. Throwing the blankets aside, he got to his feet. The fire had burned down to a faint glow. He shivered. He both dreaded and lived for their Link days because it was the only time he felt complete— when their minds spoke directly to each other without the ability to lie or hurt. Then they belonged together, bodies and souls as one, the way it was meant to be, deny it as they might the next day.

  Lifting the covers, he slipped into the bed beside her, reaching out to draw her closer. At his touch, she woke, her face creasing in a frown, ears flicking.

  It’s time, he sent, continuing to pull her closer despite her resistance.

  You might be less demanding about it.

  The words were sharper than the intent, he knew. Already she was relaxing against him, letting him wrap his arms around her.

  Yesterday’s over, Zashou. Let’s leave it behind. This is our day now, he sent persuasively, his teeth gently catching hold of one of her ears.

  Like a tide flowing up a river, their minds began to merge, becoming one. She sighed and reached a hand up to his neck. Her touch was like fire to his heightened senses, at once burning and relieving his need to hold her. He could feel the same need building in her as she pressed herself closer to him. The tension began to leave her body and within his arms, at last she began to relax.

  *

  Lijou greeted him in his private quarters, getting up as the door opened to admit him. “Thank you for accepting my invitation, Kaid,” he said, reaching out to touch fingertips with him as he entered. “Well come to Stronghold. I intend to make sure your stay this time will be far more pleasant than your last one. Have you settled in? You’re only a few doors away from me and from Kha’Qwa if you should need anything.”

  “I thought the suite was rather grand,” Kaid murmured, returning the gesture and accepting the seat the priest indicated.

  “One of our guest quarters,” said Lijou, sitting down. “I sent for coffee and c’shar because I wasn’t sure which you’d prefer.”

  “C’shar, please.” It felt strange being here. Memories of years gone by came back to him as he looked round Lijou’s personal office cum lounge. The last time he’d been in this room was when they’d come for Vanna. Before that, it had been Jyarti’s, Lijou’s predecessor as Head Priest.