by J. A. Clarke
Chapter 18
Margaine Confluence:/Second Rising
Pallas Five
"Maegan, what's wrong?" Makiee's voice, raised in panic, spiked the excruciating pain in her head up another notch. There had been no warning. The sudden attack had come from nowhere, and it had bent her across her console in absolute agony. But worse than the pain, far worse, was the memory that had accompanied it.
"Maegan?"
She had to get rid of Makiee.
She lifted her head with slow caution. Surprisingly, the pain eased a little, although the memory, ugly and soul-destroying, was etched in her mind.
A caricature of Makiee's young face filled the vid screen. His eyes bulged. His forehead was heavily creased.
"I'm all right," she managed to gasp. "Can we finish this later? You're headed in the right direction."
His face retreated from the screen as he sat back and scowled. "Don't look all right to me," he muttered. "Looks like someone shot you full of droxin. Has it occurred to you that this marriage partnership isn't good for your health? Has he done something to you again? Because if he has--"
"Thank you, Makiee," her husband, who was supposed to be gone for the better part of the day, drawled. "I believe this meeting is over." He reached around her to flick off the link, then crouched down beside her. He smoothed a cool hand across her burning forehead.
"I would hate to have to issue a mate-challenge to that young one. He has a serious case of moon fever."
A short laugh erupted from her throat as she shook her head. The pain eased. She gave in to temptation and rested her face against Alerik's broad shoulder.
"I thought you had arbitration today," she whispered. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to exorcise the ugly image emblazoned on her mind. Horror that he had caught her at such a moment, before she had a chance to analyze and process the memory, warred with gratitude that he was there.
"I did. I'm learning. Delegated most of it back to the counselors. Lazy bams. They're sending me cases they have no business sending me."
"They're testing you."
"Perhaps." He paused. His fingers touched her nape and gently began to knead, sending slivers of pleasure down her spine. "More pain? You should be over the worst of it by now."
"I am. I just..." She opened her eyes and pulled away from him. It was a mistake. His sapphire gaze, all-knowing, all-seeing, drilled into her until she was certain he saw what was in her mind.
"I'm so sorry," she blurted, as agony squeezed her heart.
"For what?" The sapphire of his eyes and temple mark blazed a clear, bright blue. If he knew what she knew, that beautiful color would turn dark and menacing.
How could she tell him? And what would she tell him?
She had hesitated too long already. His mouth had tightened at the corners and his eyes had narrowed infinitesimally. The fragile, wonderful thing that had come into being between them in the last few days teetered on the edge of annihilation. And she only had herself to blame.
He had taken his cue from her. They hadn't talked about her time with the Taragon priests. The priests had released her. She knew the children were at a safe house. Beyond that she hadn't asked the questions, hadn't wanted the answers. And there were so many anomalies, so many things that didn't make sense.
Hot despair roiled in her stomach. All the physical pleasure, the laughter, the quiet conversations, the growing trust, the need to be with him, to touch him, to be loved by him--all they had experienced together in the last few days--it was all built on a sham. The future she had glimpsed, and never even knew she wanted, was in jeopardy.
But she knew she couldn't hide forever. And what would the truth cost her? She couldn't imagine how their relationship, fragile as it was, could survive this terrible knowledge she carried in her head.
"We need to talk," she whispered.
He nodded. His temple mark and eyes had gone to dark, shimmering sapphire. "It's time."
* * * *
Pallas Four had a growing galaxy-wide reputation for its scenic beauty, but Pallas Five had a few surprises of its own. As Drakal maneuvered the small transporter through a narrow opening into a deep, lush canyon cloaked with soaring bagan trees, Alerik glanced at Maegan.
She was hunched against the clear plexiskin of the vehicle, her gaze directed outside, but he doubted she really saw anything. Something was going on in her head. Something had been triggered this morning during her conversation with Makiee. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out what. His surreptitious replay of the conversation while she had been changing her clothes hadn't revealed a slieking clue.
She had resisted his suggestion of a picnic in the high country of Pallas Five, but he had been equally determined. He was courting her. Their relationship in the last few days had developed by leaps and bounds. He had seen the beginnings of trust, and something, some strong, pure emotion in her as she had clutched at him in the throws of ecstasy.
It was important to preserve what they had built at any cost. And so he stuck to his courtship plan even though this conversation was going to be brutal. He had information that would, at the very least, upset her. It would more likely enrage her, and engage with a vengeance the part of her that wanted to save the universe.
He wanted to reach for her hand, but refrained. Her body language was clear.
The transporter descended and glided to a stop at the edge of a small meadow.
Maegan lifted her head. "We're here?"
"Not quite," he said.
The hatch swung open and heat rushed into the vehicle. Pallas Five's double sun blazed directly overhead. Grogon's moon-sun was a mere shadow behind it. He stepped out onto the soft sponge of the fragrant meadow and reached to help her. She accepted his hand, and stood quietly by his side as he collected two packs and spoke with Drakal and Corenna. They would remain close. It was the only way Sharm had agreed to the excursion. But he was determined they wouldn't be right on his ass. It was the only way he would agree to Sharm's condition.
Maegan at least was showing a spark of interest and looking around with curiosity. He picked up the lighter pack and held it out. "Yours."
She swung it over her shoulder without the smart comment he expected. His gut twisted again in anticipation of what was to come.
"This way." He set off toward the forest where a path through the trees was barely visible.
"They're not coming?" Maegan asked.
He stepped under the first tree and immediately felt a drop in temperature. "Four's a crowd, don't you think?" he responded, trying for a bit of levity.
Silence prickled behind him. He grimaced.
"They'll be around. They have orders to give us privacy."
The muffled thud of their boots on the soft path and the sough of the forest around them were the only sounds for the next few nans.
"How did you convince Sharm to do that?"
"He's an excellent second. He weighs the risks and he's reasonable."
"His job is to protect you with his life."
Alerik turned abruptly. "And now yours as well." He studied her upturned face. "There's nothing to fear here, Maegan."
An expression he couldn't read flitted across her face. She looked away and pushed past him. "Didn't say there was. I'm just surprised you were able to get rid of your bodyguard, that's all."
He decided to let her lead. They were close enough to their destination anyway, and the view was delectable. The sway and roll of her firm ass in tight breeches produced a twitch in his groin. It maybe wasn't his smartest decision of the day, but one he'd indulge in anyway.
"Just be clear on one thing, Maegan," he said, determined to make a point. "My team is sworn to your protection as well."
"Which means I can't go anywhere without a shadow." Disgust laced her voice. "I know, Alerik. I did go to the training and, contrary to what you may have heard, paid attention most of the time."
"So you did."
She was becoming argumentative, w
hich he far preferred to withdrawn and secretive. She was more likely to divulge information. He pushed harder.
"Funny how that worked out. Instead of serving a term on my team as a bodyguard, my team now protects you. And any children we may have."
"Blazing starpits!" With the speed of a striking cobsun, she swung around. She poked a finger hard into his chest, and snarled, "Children? You're on blockers aren't you? Tell me you're on blockers."
"For now."
Her lips twisted and her nose wrinkled. Even in anger, she was adorable and he wanted to snatch her to him and ravage her mouth. "Don't ever touch me again." She slammed a hand against his chest for emphasis, then whirled and stalked off ahead of him again. "Children! I'd better not be pregnant," he heard her mutter.
"Would that be such a bad thing?" he asked, taken aback by her vehement reaction. He strolled after her, allowing her to increase the distance between them. "It's a normal course of events when two people enter into a marriage partnership. Our respective parents would be delighted with a grandchild."
"Normal? There's nothing normal about our--aagh." At the top of a small rise, her hands flew up into the air and she disappeared from sight.
"Hunh," he grunted. "Must have forgotten to tell you about the ground around here."
He ambled up the hump.
In a small clearing surrounded by the giant bagan trees, she lay on her back, arms and legs spread wide, an expression of utter delight on her face. A thick layer of curly green and silver moss cushioned and undulated gently underneath her.
She rolled her head to look at him. "You brought me to The Lichs. I've heard about this. I've wanted to come here for so long."
He dropped his pack and bent to remove his boots, before sliding down beside her. The ground rose up to mold and cradle his body. "Does this get me some credits?"
"A few." She wriggled and stretched. "Not nearly enough to wipe out your deficit though."
He sighed and shoved his hands under his head. "Didn't think so." His body felt like a thousand fingers stroked through his clothes. The sensation wasn't erotic at all, just deeply soothing. "Want to get naked?"
He sensed the change in her immediately, even though they weren't touching. She sat up straight beside him. The face she turned to him was tightly drawn.
"There's something you need to know."
Beneath him, the ground stilled and the strokes against his body diminished. The whisper and sigh of the forest became almost inaudible. The trill of unseen creatures faded. It was as if the land waited with him for what she had to say. He reached for her hand, but she pulled away from him.
"I remember. I remember everything." She frowned. "I think." She twisted her hands together on her upraised knees and slid her gaze away from him.
"On the Taragon ship, there was a priest. A woman priest. Nargune."
Shock splintered through him. "Women priests are outlawed on Taragon. The elders themselves purged the temples."
"That's what I heard too. They didn't do a very thorough job." She had turned her head and he couldn't see her expression. Her voice wavered.
Alerik sat up. "It wasn't specifically a condition of the Treaty. It became a later addendum. The elders apparently felt the women had accumulated too much power. They weren't confident they could control the women priests, even by confining them to their temples."
Maegan hunched her shoulders. "In hindsight, I'm sure this one controlled the Taragon vessel."
If Maegan was right, this information changed things drastically. The power structure on Taragon was not what it seemed. The elders seconded to the Coalition Council were out of touch. Morgon's covert operation had just quite possibly gained legitimacy.
He stood. It was imperative this stunning piece of information be shared with the Council. "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Sure? What do you mean?"
"Sure of the priest's gender?"
His wife hunched in a ball at his feet. She hid her face in her knees. "Of course I'm sure. She did things to me." Her voice was whisper-soft.
"What?" Cold unease slid down his spine. The Council and the galaxy would have to wait. Slowly, he sat down beside her again. "What did she do?"
Maegan's fists clenched. Her body trembled, but she raised her head and looked him in the face. A desperate sadness clouded her eyes and made his heart clench in his chest, but her face also bore a look of fierce determination.
"She made me b-be intimate...she made me..." Her features twisted. She sucked in a noisy gulp of air. "She made me have...have sex with her."
Whatever he had expected, it wasn't that. He tried to process the information and found himself struggling to wrap his mind around it. "She hurt you?" There had been no physical trauma to her body, no pain except for the headaches.
"No. I...she...I remember enjoying it. How could I?" The last was a wail of desperation.
He caught her arms. "She had you under psych control, remember?"
"I know, I know. I can't get it out of my head. I feel...v-violated." She clutched back at him. Her nails dug into his flesh through the sleeve of his tunic and pulled him back from the edge of a vortex of gathering rage. "I can't make it go away."
"You were raped." He forced his voice to a soothing calm he didn't feel. "We'll get help, love."
"Alerik, I..." She stopped and looked at him in desperation, her eyes large and moist with emotion.
He tamped down the violent urge to destroy something, and gathered her face gently in his hands. "This has nothing to do with us, with you and me," he said. "It changes nothing about our relationship. Understand?"
"But it does," she objected. "How could it not?"
"No. It doesn't. It doesn't change how I feel about you."
She shook her head and tried to pull away. "I can't--"
"Don't, Maegan." He had to make her understand. "You and I have something extraordinary. You may have resisted it at the beginning, but after the last few days, can you really deny it? Nothing will take that away from us. Nothing. We'll get help for this."
She looked at him wide-eyed. Something shifted in her expression. The stiffness of her body beneath his hands eased. She gave a tiny nod of her head. Shadows still lurked in her eyes but she no longer looked like she was about to shatter.
"Let's spend a little time here, at least," he said quietly. "It's beautiful and peaceful. Let's just enjoy it for what it is." His own urgency to return and report had faded. A few hanans would make no difference.
It wasn't until much later, when they were back at the governor's habitat, that she asked the question he had dreaded.
* * * *
The moons of Pallas Five were an odd bronze color tonight.
Maegan leaned her head against the high back of the bench in the courtyard to study the streaked sky. A storm was on its way. The bellian winds were beginning to blow. Even protected as she was by the walls of the courtyard, she felt her hair stir and the brush of a stronger gust across her cheek. She would have to go in soon.
As soon as they had arrived back at the governor's habitat, Alerik had gone off to some meeting. She was grateful for the time alone. He had reacted with remarkable calm to her disclosure. An eerie calm.
She shuddered. Another gust of wind wrapped around her.
"Maegan, what are you doing out here?" Alerik strode down the path. "These winds are about to explode. Come inside."
"Why did the Taragon priests let me go?"
"What?" He stopped in front of her, tall, solid. He held his hand out.
She ignored it and looked past him into a garden that was beginning to sway and bow to the demands of the elements.
"What reason did they have for letting me go? You didn't give them the children."
"Let's go inside." He was impatient. "We can discuss it there." He reached for her hand.
She pulled away. It was somehow imperative he not touch her at that moment. If he did, she would give in to his demand, and she was afraid then she wouldn't be a
ble to get to a dreadful truth that seemed to hover just out of her grasp.
"Tell me!"
His face was shadowed in the rapidly dimming light. A blast of wind slammed into them. He leaned over her and braced an arm against the back of the bench. He could have done it to protect her from the worst of the wind, but it felt almost threatening.
"There was an exchange," he said. "But not the children."
"Who?"
"Maegan... Balls of Sortor!"
Another blast almost knocked him into her.
"I tell you and we go inside. Immediately. Understand?" He was nose to nose with her. His eyes glittered. His voice was raised almost to a shout as the winds began their mournful howl.
She inclined her head in agreement. A terrible urgency clawed at her. Part of her shrieked she didn't want to know. She wanted to stay safe and insulated by her ignorance.
The warrior she had trained to be so long ago stood resolute and braced for an answer.
He moved his hand from the bench to grip her shoulder. "Morgon."
Nothing had prepared her for that knowledge. Shock ripped through her and tore into her heart. "Nooo!" she heard herself scream. The sound was taken by the wind and tossed to the skies.
Alerik grabbed her, jerked her to her feet and tugged her down the path. She went without resistance, her mind smothered in a curious, heavy blankness, beneath which the implications writhed and struggled for life.
All around them, the wind tore at leaves, tossed branches and howled its fury. Loud pops punctuated the howls. The sky was streaked with purple and crimson and an insidious, icy, yellow mist had moved in and blew with the wind.
They reached the outer door. Alerik shoved it open and pushed her through. He turned to secure it behind them. The abrupt cessation of noise left a hammering in her ears.
He swung around to face her. In the silence, his breaths sounded harsh and uneven. His expression was tight, his eyes dark.
"Up," he said.
She went, unable to force a single thought to her mind. Her husband stalked her past the empty rooms of the lower level of the habitat and stood behind her on the mobilstair, as if guarding an escape route. Lumens brightened and dimmed again with their passage.