I wasn’t sure if I laughed because of the stunned look on his face, or because you did, that’s all, when you’d no idea what anything meant or the future held, but any change—this change—had to be good.
Auburn, this hair, a red so dark as to hide black within it, the ends with a curl I didn’t remember.
The look in Morgan’s eyes when a curl slipped around his neck?
That I did.
Chapter 42
WHATEVER THEY DID, however long this moment lasted, he’d take it, Morgan thought. He held up his hand, watching with delight as a lock of hair—such hair—wrapped around his wrist, covering the bracelet, then flowed over his sleeve to nestle along his neck.
To flick like a scold against his ear and drop, the hair displeased with his being dressed. Morgan rubbed his ear ruefully. “I remember that.”
Sira laughed. “Then you should have known better.”
He took hold of her chin and planted a firm kiss on those soft, very-well-kissed-already lips, rewarded by another, warmer laugh. “Gods,” he said, staying close to share her breath, her taste, “I don’t believe any of this.” I want to—
Then do, with such love he felt dizzy. “The Singers are there—Rael is—but the Watchers are too quiet. I’ve a feeling they’re—” her brows met, “—arguing.”
“How long?”
“Can they argue?” Sira stepped back, doing up the fastener of her coveralls. They’d used the fresher and were now ridiculously hungry, which said a great deal about how the night had been. “If I had my way, it would be forever.” Her lips lost their happy curve. “But Singers don’t belong Between, Jason, and they’re all that holds me here. When they leave, I do.”
“Then we’ll hope this argument of theirs keeps up long enough for breakfast,” he said lightly. We live each moment they grant us, Witchling.
Every one, Sira agreed, her stomach picking that moment to express itself. “Starting with breakfast.”
Interlude
An Undisclosed Location
CARE, IN THIS ROOM, came as a servo nurse.
But care hadn’t come, nor any food or drink, nor anything else, and the two waiting knew they’d been forgotten.
They held each other as they weakened, and if they understood anything more than their discomfort and fear it was that there were worse futures than this one, where they would end together. Just fall asleep—
The door with only one key didn’t open.
Until the moment it melted.
The two blinked wearily at this new and unexpected development. One couldn’t make a sound and the other knew better, but both shivered when a huge figure appeared, making loud noises.
“You’re scaring them, idiot.” Sector Chief Lydis Bowman stepped over the puddled remnants of what had been a door the makers intended to be impregnable, into a room whose owner—confined to one she’d personally ensure offered the greatest discomfort possible—thought impossible to find.
On second thought, maybe Choiola should be sent back to the Brill. Her species had an internal justice system that would prove far worse.
Or given to Lucic.
Terk opened his visor and crouched beside the two toddlers. “It’s okay. We’re the good guys.” His craggy face folded into a warm, reassuring smile; at least, that was the expression Bowman assumed he attempted.
The girl stared up, her eyes wide in her emaciated little face.
Others streamed in, medtechs who saw their patients and blanched, but moved with urgency. Neither child protested, beyond clinging to one another. They were so small, the medtechs kept them together in a carrier.
Once they were gone, Terk gave a final string of curses, kicking sand for good measure, then glared at Bowman. “Cut it too tight,” he accused.
They’d made it here with all the speed she’d could order, but she nodded. “I know.” They’d saved two; but not the others, Bowman judged, surveying Choiola’s room with a critical eye. This wasn’t new. “I want the techs on those blankets in the Brill’s closet. I want victim idents. I want—find out if any were Ordnex.” Her voice threatened to fail; she gritted her teeth, refusing to allow it. “Get me the suppliers.”
With a stark look, Terk wheeled and went out the door.
Bowman heard him call for the comtech. “I don’t care what you’re doing—get Plexis. I want my partner out here, now!”
Saving the Trade Pact—and who knew what else—from some Dark no one seemed able to properly explain was for others. The Consortium, for starters.
This kind of dark?
With a settling shrug, Bowman pulled out her noteplas and stylus, and got to work.
Chapter 43
THE SEAT FELT—RIGHT, Morgan thought, wiggling a bit deeper, then looked around sheepishly.
Erin grinned. “Looks good on you.”
“Not committing myself yet,” he warned, but had to return her smile. His fingers gripped the arms. “It feels good.” It all did, crazy as it was when you knew you lived a moment at a time.
When each could be the last, but he refused to believe it.
Denial of the facts doesn’t change them. With amusement, Sira no more sane than he. She sat at the com station, letting Noska show her controls she knew full well how to operate. Living the moment.
Dreaming. That she would stay. They’d talked about her name, her new face and hair; what to tell the handful who’d take it for anything but cosmetics, that being the Human habit, to change yourself at whim—
Dreaming this could be home, this ship—
“Jason.” Sira rose to her feet, turned to him, her face stricken and hand outstretched.
Cold replaced the blood in his veins, slowed his heart. “Not now—” he whispered, the words like ice cutting his mouth.
But it was.
Interlude
BUT WAS IT?
I felt Morgan’s horror—had ample of my own, feeling the tug on who I was, what I was—but fought to remain calm. After all, I still had feet.
Still stood on the deck of this grand ship, with Morgan nearby.
Yet was here as well. Between.
Surrounded by Song. They didn’t Sing here, I thought, confused. Not that anything about Singers was less than confusing. Rael, what’s happening?
<
Well, yes, but—It’s Between.
<
Aryl? With that, names flooded me, even as hands held me, and voices Sang!
Then another voice, with a Watcher’s dry, harsh tone. Taisal. <
<
I could have sworn I felt Taisal’s answering scowl, but it wasn’t quite as dour as usual.
But what does that mean?
Rael came close. <
There had to be a catch, I thought with all the suspicion of that master trader. What about you?
<> Aryl. <
Because I would, that being the way of our kind. To live our lives, then die and Sing. To remember, always.
Deal!
I probably should have thanked my noncorporeal kin—
But I found myself in a hurry.
Chapter 44
MORGAN HURRIED to where Sira stood, but dared not touch her. The expression on her face flickered through emotions faster than he could pick them out, this being a face he didn’t know as well—
“Captain Morgan? Plexis-com says we have to go now—”
—then her eyes opened, green and fiercely bright. “Hello.”
Oddly formal, that “Hello.”
“If we don’t, we’ll lose the window. There’ll be a fine.”
“Hello.” He felt as though he’d one foot over a precipice, the other on the trembling edge and dared not move.
“Can’t you see he’s busy, Noska? I’ll take her out.”
But Sira took a step forward, so he could.
“Do you know how? Not that I’m worried, but you’ve never done this—”
Her hands flattened on his chest, as if seeking the now-wild beat of his heart, and she looked up.
“Hush!”
Then his love smiled her glorious smile, and said the words that made everything right.
“I’m home.”
Beings of a Permanent or Temporarily Corporeal Nature Named in This Book
Alla’do Go: Papiekian
Ambridge Gayle: Human, former Syndicate Head, Deneb Grays
Ansel: Human, former assistant to Huido
Argyle Touley: Assembler
Baltir: Retian scientist who worked with Clan Council
Barac: Sira’s cousin, Barac di Bowart, nee sud Sarc, Chosen of Ruti
Chert the Masher Nyquist: Neneman, Trade Pact Enforcer
Choiola: Brill, Trade Pact Board Member
Erad di Caraat: Clan, Chosen of Wys, father of Yihtor
Heevertup: Heerii Drapsk, Captain of the Heerala; was Skeptic Levertup
Henerop: Heerii Drapsk, cargo supervisor on the Heerala
Hom M’Tisri: Vilix, host of Claws & Jaws
Huido Maarmatoo’kk: Carasian, owner of the Claws & Jaws
Jason Morgan: Human from Karolus, former Chosen of Sira, Trader, former Captain of the Silver Fox
Jesper: Plexis Security, Jynet’s assistant
Kero di Licor: Clan/Destarian, Chosen of Taze
Lones: Human, personal assistant, Claws & Jaws
Lydis Bowman: Human, Sector Chief Trade Pact Enforcers
Lyta di Kessa’at: Clan/Destarian, Chosen of Odar
Manouya: Brill, smuggler known as the Facilitator
Mathis Dewley: Assembler
Merin di Lorimar: Clan/Destarian, Chosen of Tren
Noska: Whirtle, Hindmost on the Wayfarer
Numnee: Festor, Parts Maker on Auord
Odar di Kessa’at: Clan/Destarian, Chosen of Lyta
P’tr wit ’Whix: Tolian, Constable, Trade Pact Enforcer
Jynet: Eima, Deputy Inspector Plexis Security
Pysyk Oes: Skenkran employed as a greeter/airtagger on Plexis
Rael di Sarc: Clan, Chosen of Janac, sister of Sira
Renn Symon: Human, telepath, former acquaintance of Morgan
Russell Terk: Human, Constable, Trade Pact Enforcer
Ruti di Bowart: Clan, Chosen of Barac
Sira di Sarc: Clan, former Chosen of Morgan, sister of Rael
Sta’gli: Papiekian, Trade Pact Board Member
Talobar: Retian scientist working with Destarians
Tayno Boormataa’kk: Carasian, works in Claws & Jaws as Huido’s impersonator
Taze di Licor: Clan/Destarian, Chosen of Kero
The Righteous SeaSea: Master Chef
Thel Masim: Human, Auord Shipcity Manager
Theo Schrivens Cartnell: Human, Trade Pact Board Member
Tren di Lorimar: Clan/Destarian, Chosen of Merin
Trilip nes Fartho: Trant, Trade Pact Board Member
Two-Lily Finelle: Lemmick, Trade Pact Enforcer constable
Usuki Erin: Human from Stitts VII, Captain of the Wayfarer
Wys di Caraat: Clan/Destarian, Chosen of Erad, mother of Yihtor, leader of the Destarians
Yihtor di Caraat: Clan/Destarian, unChosen, son of Wys and Erad
Yo’lof: Auordian, Captain of the Paradigm
Zetter Byi: vid producer who built and raced the Wayfarer
Zibanejad Cluster: Oduyae Master Chefs
Acknowledgments
Nine books. Wow. The Clan Chronicles began as “Story X” in a faded file folder. I’d wrinkle each page after typing to make the folder look nice and fat. No need for that now. Today, there’s well over a million published words of story, plus nine works of stunning, insightful original art: six by Luis Royo and three by Matthew Stawicki. The books have come out in mass market, hardcover, and SFBC editions, as well as audiobooks and ebooks (as those technologies came around—yup, been that long). There are even two in Russian. Who knew?
Sheila E. Gilbert of DAW Books. My Hugo-winning editor-dear (who is up for her second award, so appendages crossed). I remember Sheila correcting me, after I apologized in a little speech for doing everything “you weren’t to do” in my first book: first person, an amnesiac heroine who, yes, views her reflection, telepathy . . .
Sheila? Said, quite firmly, those things are fine when done well, and I really should trust her.
I do. I’ve never forgotten that day, nor her belief in these characters and their story. Thank you, Sheila.
Thank you to the whole wonderful family that is DAW Books. (Welcome, Leah!) Twenty plus years feels like a blink of an eye, till I add up the words. Suffice it to say you’re my family, too. (Yes, it’s New York and a big-time publishing house, but I’m not the only mushy one in this, trust me.)
On to more specific name-calling. Despite our moving twice this past year (during Gate and during Guard), I was able to write in peace and make my deadlines because Roger did everything. I am not kidding. Best hero-partner a person could have. Did I mention his blue eyes?
Thank you, Matt Stawicki, for this stunning cover!
My thanks to Luis Royo for the Lemmicks, the aliens he created for the cover of To Trade the Stars. I’d simply said “put aliens in view” and he did the rest. So much fun to bring them to life!
There are new Tuckerizations in Guard. My thanks to Jeanette Glass, who inspired Deputy Inspector Jynet, and has been very patient with me. Lance Lones? You’re here at last. And to our dear Erin Czerneda, who I’ve no doubt could command a starship in her sleep. Meet Captain Usuki Erin, of Stitts VII. Happy Birthday!
I had to cut back appearances—my clothes and toad stamp were packed—but between moves, there were these spectacular events: Keycon, in Winnipeg, Manitoba (Hi, Auntie Joyce); When Words Collide/Canvention, in Calgary, Alberta; Acadia Dark Sky Festival, Bar Harbor, Maine; CanCon in Ottawa; and Halcon in Halifax NS. Oh, my goodness. Go to any and all of these! I’d like to thank our gracious hosts, especially: John Mansfield, Sherry Peters, Katrina Thiesson-Beasse, Edward Willet, and Gerald Brandt (and offspring) of Keycon; Clifford Samuels, Randy McCharles, and Stacey (the birds!) Kondla of WWC/Canvention; Derek Kunsken, Brandon Crilly, Nicole Lavigne, and Marie Bilodeau of CanCon; Melinda Rice, Ruth Eveland, and Kayla Chagnon of Jesup Memorial Library, and Kristen Britain for getting me into it all, (Dark Sky), as well as Davonnne Pappas, teachers, and students of MDI High School for their warm welcome. Last but not least, my deep gratitude to Lisa MacIver, Adam Sigrist, and Patrick Charron of Halcon, where we’d the pleasure of meeting so many wonderful new people, including Peter Foote and Missie Brown, I can’t name them here.
I must also thank the hosts of my “blog tour sans internet” for Gate. Your enthusiasm and support—and patience—was fabulous and most certainly needed! Special hugs to Andrea Johnson (Fantasy Book Café) and Jorie-loves-a-story. Made me cry, you did, in a good way.
Some tears, this year, weren’t that sort.
Ruth, I told you a secret, how Guard would end, to hear your warm and happy chuckle. Told you about my secret new project, to hear the excitement in your voice. Hung up the phone, still feeling your smile, still smiling my own. Nothing new there, right? You’ve heard all my secre
ts. You’ve been there, to chuckle, get excited, and smile, from the start.
No longer. As endings go, heart-kin, maybe we did okay. I know I hear you, even now.
As for beginnings?
Jennifer and Jeff, Scott and Erin, John, Johanne, and Jamie. All our family and all our friends, who gave me distance while shouting encouragement as steam poured out the various windows and we crisscrossed the province in our little red Ranger.
Book’s done, we’re unpacked, the deck’s open for company.
We’re home.
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To Guard Against the Dark Page 39