“I don’t remember much of anything after being buried. Just the feeling of suffocation and the taste of blood. Then I woke up here, to you,” he squeezed her gently, “playing with my daarok.”
“Your what?”
He pointed at his tablet.
A burst of heat rushed to her cheeks. “I not playing. I—”
“I know. You were saving my life.” Another tight squeeze.
She patted down the fur she’d just stroked into spikes. Torek’s broad hand grazed across her back, and they remained like that, breathing in the silence.
“We have food and water, if you want something,” she whispered some time later, pointing to the spread Petreok had set out.
“Yes, I see that.” Torek murmured, but he didn’t move. Neither did she, and they drifted into another lazy silence until the repetitive purr of Torek’s deep, healthy snores soothed Delaney into sleep too.
Sixteen
“I am not going, and you not make me,” Delaney said, gleefully throwing down the gauntlet at last. Torek was probably having a difficult time taking her seriously while she was bundled in an adult, fur-lined onesie, but now that he knew she was capable of speaking, she’d be damned if she didn’t advocate for herself regarding Brinon Kore’Onik.
Today was appointment day, the day of doom for both of them, and the first day in the eight since his fever had broken that Torek was feeling well enough to leave his room. He hadn’t resumed his regular schedule yet, but at the rate he was pushing himself now that he was conscious, it was only just a matter of days before he was sprinting the mountain every morning. She’d have rejoiced in the rapid return of his health along with the rest of Lorien if only he wasn’t using his renewed strength to bully her, another aspect of their lives that was rapidly returning to “normal.”
The verbal inquisition he’d deployed during his convalescence had been both relentless and subtle, gleaning the truth of her intelligence oftentimes before she even realized his intentions. Like that first day, when he’d asked her to pass him four of the five books on his nightstand. She’d asked which ones he wanted, and when he’d changed his mind to three—just the blue and green ones, and the one on mineral properties, please—she’d done so without realizing everything she’d reveal: she could count, read, and knew her colors. He’d taken the books without comment, not even to say thank you, and that along with the hand rubbing the frown between his eyes told her everything he wasn’t saying. She was passing his tests, which meant she was failing her own.
She’d been more guarded since then, becoming a mastermind at avoidance and defensive deflection.
“What does drill on Earth entail?” he’d asked.
“Why you not attend drill on Lorien anymore?” she’d countered.
“What was your schedule like on Earth?” he’d pressed.
“Why must everything have a schedule?” she’d parried.
He’d asked her to pass him the sequel to dirt, third book on the left, second shelf.
She’d retrieved the fourth book on the right, first shelf. But at that, he’d only pinned her with a peeling glare. Not everything was a test, especially the second time, and some holes could only be made deeper.
But today, the eighth day of his recovery, his bullying progressed from verbal to physical. She’d thrown down her gauntlet, forbidding him from taking her to the doctor, and he intended to pick it up. Literally.
“We’re going. We walk where I will, and we will be keeping to schedule today.” Torek scooped her up, just snatched her right up off the floor, and carried her toward the bedroom door like a sack of grain slumped over his shoulder.
“Put me down! You not understanding. ”
“I understand perfectly. I don’t enjoy my doctor appointments either. But we suffer them because we must.”
“We can make a new schedule without appointments and keep to that,” she tried.
He reached for the door.
“I hate my appointments with Brinon. Just stop for one second! Please!”
Her shrieks must have hit just the right high note, because he paused midstride.
“Please put me down. Let us talk with calm and reason.”
He set her on her feet and, when he stood up, dipped his head so his horns swept sideways. And waited.
She took a steadying breath. “I not want to visit Brinon Kore’Onik. Not today. Not ever.”
Torek breathed in a long-suffering sigh. His hands remained on her hips, ready to toss her back over his shoulder at any moment, but for this one moment, he resisted.
“I hear what you’re saying, but I don’t understand. Why don’t you want to visit Brinon Kore’Onik?”
“I not like him. I not enjoy the visits,” she amended. “He has my best interest at heart, but my appointments with him are… They humiliating and scaring.”
Torek frowned. “I’ve noticed that you’re quite emotional after your appointments with him, and I understand being frightened, but humiliated? Aren’t you being a bit drama—”
“Calling me dramatic is not listening. You are—” Her hand circled the air in thought. “What is the word for to dismiss my feelings? To not take them as serious as you should and to make me feel stupid for feeling them?”
Torek opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it again. “Insensitive? Dismissive? Trivializing?”
“Yes, you are those things. Not always,” she amended quickly. “Just now.”
Torek choked back a laugh. “Brinon Kore’Onik is the best in his field. He cares for animal companions the world over. What could possibly be humiliating?”
“He ties my arms and legs to the table. He touches me in places without asking first. He—”
“I’m sure that Brinon Kore’Onik won’t restrain you if you ask him not to. Just don’t struggle when he examines you,” he said offhandedly. “And of course he must touch you. How can he examine you otherwise?”
This was it, then. The final snowflake that broke the ice from the mountain, beginning the avalanche that killed them all. “I not asking Brinon Kore’Onik to not restrain me.”
“Why not? Just—”
“I not asking him anything.”
Torek frowned. “What are you talking about? Of course you can—”
“No. My speaking is our secret. Just between you and me, remember?”
His watch—a new one, apparently, because he’d spent nearly all yesterday afternoon programming his entire schedule back into it—chirped.
He glanced at its face and growled. “We don’t have time for another argument. We’re already behind schedule.”
Delaney rolled her eyes. Torek and his damn itinerary. “What about the lor with the knife? You not find him.”
Torek sighed. “I’ve interviewed several people who were present during the incident at Graevlai that day, and no one saw anyone holding a knife. And you didn’t recognize any of the faces from the images I showed you. There’s not much more I can do.”
“Exactly. He still out there. It might not be safe to leave.”
Torek shot her an affronted glare. “You’ll be with me. There’s nowhere safer.”
“But—”
He tightened his hold on her hips, about to toss.
“Okay, okay!” Delaney held up her hands in supplication. “I agree to the appointment. I not struggle or make a fuss or argue, if you keep your promise. My speaking is a secret between you and me. Agreed?”
Torek released her waist, grabbed her wrist, and reached for the door. “Fine! Agreed! Let’s just go! We’re running late.”
“Wait! My—”
“You just agreed not to struggle!”
Delaney dug in her heels. “You forget my leash. My tether, I mean.”
“What are you going on about?”
She reached back, searching under the pile of furs and blankets on the floor—used more now as a method of losing things than as a bed—and popped back up, tether in hand. “Here.”
Torek st
ared at the tether, but he didn’t reach to take it. “What do we need that for? You’re well trained, well—” He shook his head. “You’re fluent in Lori.”
“After what happen on the mountain, no one thinks me well trained. You let me off the tether, and I nearly die.” She grimaced. “They think you have no control of me.”
“This isn’t a matter of control. It’s—”
“Yes, to everyone else it is. If you not know I speaking, what you think of me?”
“I’d think, well…” He sighed. “I’d be worried for you, wondering how you might react in public because of your trauma. Whatever spooked you on the ravine might spook you again, and until I discovered what that was, and help you deal with it, I’d tether you. To ensure your safety,” he added. The severity of his frown was two mountains creating a deep ridge in the center of his forehead.
“Here you go, then.” Delaney shook the leash at him.
“But I know what spooked you.” He argued, ignoring the tether. “You told me, and your reasoning makes sense. Being lost in a strange land with strangers chasing you would be very frightening. You panicked. It’s completely understandable and avoidable, because I won’t be losing you on our way to visit Brinon Kore’Onik. And even if we become separated, it’ll be familiar surroundings.”
“I tell you, but I not tell everyone. They expect you to tether me for my own safety, and if you not, they think you—” She tapped her temple and made a looping motion beside her head.
He shook his head. “I don’t care what everyone thinks,” he said, but his eyes slid to the side, breaking their locked gaze.
“Of course you do.” She snapped the collar around her neck, clipped herself into the tether, and shook the leash at him a second time.
He stared at the handle but didn’t move to grab it. “No matter my temporary leave of absence, I’m still Torek Lore’Onik Weidnar Kenzo Lesh’Aerai Renaar. They’ll listen to my commands.”
“Even you not command what people think,” Delaney said, exasperated.
Torek put his hands on his hips, reminding Delaney of a superhero. Chewbacca playing Superman. “They don’t question my commands, and they won’t question my actions.”
“That not always good! You nearly die because they not question your commands.”
His arms dropped back to his sides, and he had the good grace to look at least a little shamefaced. “In that one instance, I’ll admit, their unquestioning loyalty was to my detriment. But fepherok is rarely fatal except to children and the elderly. I should’ve been able to rest a few days in bed, as Geraevon Kore’Onik had intended, and recover without any ill effects. The thought of me dying from fepherok, at my age and in my current health is, well—” He shook his head, his curved horns sweeping the air.
“All too possible.”
“—laughable.”
“I not laughing.”
“I know.”
“So. Not questioning you is not always good.”
“I know. But for the purposes of public opinion, their loyalty is to our advantage. How I decide to train and discipline my animal companion is my business, and they will respect my decision.”
Delaney shook her head. “They not voice concern, but they still think it. And even not said, thoughts have power.”
“Not as powerful as me.”
Delaney rolled her eyes and snorted.
The heat of Torek’s glare could have incinerated a fly.
“Sorry, but you are wrong. What happen on the mountain might happen again. The next time you leave me on the mountain—”
“It’s not a mountain. And I didn’t—”
“—I want the lorienok to think me a good animal companion who listening. Not speaking,” she said hastily. “Just listening. And they find that hard to think if they not see me wearing the tether now.” She forced the handle into his hand and curled his fingers around it.
He continued to glare at her.
She glared back.
His watch chirped.
“We are late,” she goaded.
He growled. “Fine. But we’re not done here. We’ll finish this conversation tonight.”
“Sir, yes, sir.”
“What?”
“Never mind. Just lead the way, Commander. The sooner we start, the sooner it ends.”
The distance through the estate proper to his hover vehicle was only a short walk, but everyone they passed—guards, civilians, friends, strangers, everyone—stopped them to ask after their health, pat Reshna’s head, and wish them well. They didn’t have time for such sentiments, but no matter what he denied, Torek knew the importance of public opinion. Besides, at this point, did it even matter if they were two hours late rather than one for their appointments? So he let his people chat and pat to their hearts’ content, and when they were finally finished, deleted his remaining reminders for the day before the incessant chirping of his new daami drove him to smash it.
Brinon Kore’Onik’s receptionist was indulgent, expressing her joy at seeing them as well, despite their egregious tardiness. They didn’t even have to wait for their appointment. He glanced at all the other lorienok sitting in the waiting room with their animal companions. They had arrived on time and would now be behind in their schedule because of him.
And despite that, every single one of them fawned over him and Reshna and their health. One enthusiastic young lorok went so far as to claim that she might have died herself had they died that day.
Reshna, sitting in the chair next to Torek, locked eyes with him. Her face was so expressive, he could nearly hear the drip of sarcasm leaking from her thoughts.
He grinned. I told you I was powerful.
Her eyes rolled back into her head. Torek smothered a brewing laugh.
“Are you ready for your appointment, Reshna?” the receptionist gushed, reaching to take the tether from Torek’s hands.
On impulse, Torek stood. “I’d like to join her in the room for her exam, if you don’t think Brinon Kore’Onik will mind?”
The receptionist straightened, the tether forgotten. “This way please, Commander.”
Torek stepped forward but came up short when the tether pulled taut. He glanced over his shoulder. Reshna’s white-knuckled grip on the chair was so tight, her arms visibly shook.
He tugged on the tether lightly, hoping she wouldn’t make a scene. “Come, Reshna.”
Had he miscalculated? Would she not appreciate his presence in the exam room? Or was this just the nerves she had talked about?
Torek glanced at the other animal companions in the waiting room. Most were probably here for their weekly well visit. Many of them were happily chirping, begging for treats, or trying to encourage neighboring owners to give them attention and pets. A few were visibly unwell, their limbs wrapped with bandages, calmly if sadly waiting their turn to be healed.
None were afraid, let alone displaying such a visceral, fearful response to being here.
Just as Torek was about to step toward her, Reshna sighed and stood of her own volition. She walked with him to the exam room willingly, if obviously reluctant.
Torek’s hackles threatened to rise, and he didn’t even know quite why.
Brinon Kore’Onik was already there, surrounded by a group of student assistants. The students stared in awe at his approach, then gathered themselves and scrambled to genuflect.
Brinon nodded warmly. “Torek Lore’Onik Weidnar Kenzo Lesh’Aerai Renaar. To what do we owe this honor?”
“Brinon Kore’Onik.” Torek nodded in return. “Reshna is still skittish from her accident. I’d like to remain during her exam to soothe her, if you don’t mind.”
“Anything for the hero of the hour.” Brinon gestured to one of the students. “Roerik, if you will?”
A young lor, presumably Roerik, stepped forward. He looked strong and confident, yet his horns had yet to curl. He squatted in front of Reshna, grabbed her beneath the arms—without asking for permission, Torek’s conscience nagged—
and lifted her onto the exam table. She could easily have hopped onto it herself with a step stool, had there been one and had she been asked.
Although she remained calm, collected, and completely pliant as he positioned her onto her hands and knees, Roerik fastened a restraint around Reshna’s left ankle.
Reshna locked eyes with Torek.
Torek turned to Brinon. “Are restraints necessary? She’s perfectly calm.”
Roerik paused midreach for the right ankle restraint.
Brinon smiled an indulgent smile that Torek instantly disliked, which shocked him. He’d never before—not during his many seasons in the academy, throughout drill, nor professionally—ever disliked anything about Brinon. “I’m making an exception to protocol, allowing you to remain for her examination. So I beg your leave to conduct this appointment in the manner I see fit.”
“Of course, but—”
“I would never dream to question your commands to the guard. That is your military specialty. Caring for animal companions is mine. Please extend me the same courtesy.”
Torek bit back his gut response. “Of course.”
Reshna looked away, her already pinched expression becoming increasingly grim.
Brinon flicked his eyes to Roerik.
Roerik blinked back, unsure. He glanced askance at his classmates.
One of the young lorok nodded subtly, and Roerik fastened the restraint and then paused, glancing at Brinon as if bracing for a reprimand.
Brinon nodded, and Roerik refocused on Reshna. He unfastened her clothes. She allowed him to pull each arm through its sleeve and push her coverings down her back to pool at her knees. Her skin instantly puckered. She began to tremble, but she didn’t fight him. She didn’t complain or argue or struggle in any way. After arguing with her incessantly about practically everything for the past eight days, her silence was discomfiting. Sickening, actually, as her tremors increased.
Roerik moved to step back in line. Reshna raised and jiggled her wrist, reminding Roerik that he’d forgotten to restrain her arms. He jumped forward to finish his duty, and a moment later, the third and then fourth restraint locked into place with a final click.
Beyond the Next Star Page 15