by Tess Mallory
"Ration's favorite story is an ancient Terran tale of a flying creature that once soared across the skies of our mother planet. 'Once there was a man whose fear ruled his life until one day he turned his vision to the skies. There he saw a great and glorious bird spreading his wings, sailing upon the winds of fortune, and he heard the voice of the Creator say to him, "Rise up, rise up on the wings of an eagle. You shall be weary no longer. You shall fly with courage and strength." There was a soft chuckle. "My son, Ranon, sees himself in that great bird, that great eagle. I am pleased."
By the time the voice had reached the last sentence of the story, Eagle was saying the words along with him. And by the time the last words of his father faded away, he suddenly knew what the stain on the wooden sculpture upstairs really meant. He took a step back from the pedestal and registered, somewhere in his thoughts, that Sky was beside him. Without looking, he handed her the amber orb, then turned and ran across the room, heading for the twisted stairway.
"Eagle, wait!"
He heard Sky's frantic call but could not have stopped if the galaxy had been on fire. Images crowded into his brain, superimposing one on top of the other, dancing across his thought processes, twisting rational thought into fragmented questions without answers. He took the steps two at a time, stumbling twice and falling, sliding down three steps, then pulling himself to his feet and lunging upward, his hands clawing for purchase. He reached the top at last and plunged into the room upstairs, staggering to a stop beside the beautiful carved work of art in the center. He searched the wood until he found what he was looking for: the stain. His fingers touched the blemish carefully, gently, before curling back into his palm. He felt the knowledge crash in on him, and this time there was nothing he could do to stop it. There were no darns strong enough to hold it back, no walls thick enough to halt the onslaught.
They had taken refuge here, on that long-ago night. His family, among others who had at last believed the incredible stories that Andromeda was under attack from outside forces, their king and queen murdered, their world conquered. The Seekers had brought their wives or their husbands, their children and grandchildren to the temple. The children had been sent below to the hidden chamber, but the spouses of the Seekers and those children who had attained adulthood had elected to remain above in the meditation room, to defend the rest.
Eagle had not been a child; he had been a young man almost fifteen years old when his father had calmly led him into the place where the two of them had spent many a long hour in serious conversation. As the youngest of his father's children, he was the only one of his family designated to remain below, in spite of his fervent pleadings to stay with them. When the Forces came, Eagle was hovering at the top of the stairs, his best friend Telles beside him. They both heard the shots ring out in the temple and immediately plunged through the opening leading into the great chamber above. Fortunately the chaos going on inside the hall was enough that the two boys were quickly able to seal the door closed behind them before the soldiers saw the entrance to the secret room. They stumbled out into the battle and stood for a moment, stunned, too shocked at first to realize what was happening.
They had nothing to fight with, but it didn't matter. The fight was over almost before it had begun. Eagle had stared around at the bodies tangled together in various paroxysms of death on the floor and had felt something inside him die as well. Telles's father and mother, his older brother, lay prostrate on the floor in one another's arms, covered with blood. His friend fell to his knees, retching at the sight, sobbing broken-heartedly. Eagle couldn't move, couldn't comfort his friend.
"Little eagle…"He had turned glazed eyes toward the whispered entreaty. His father leaned against the great wooden sculpture, half his left arm torn away, a gaping hole in his chest. Eagle ran to him, catching him as he fell. He died before he could speak again, as Eagle sank to the floor holding him in his arms. His mother and the rest of his family were already there, lying in their own blood. As Eagle stared down into his father's sightless eyes, he had felt a grief so intense, so all consuming, he thought his mind would explode. He sat back on his heels, rocking back and forth, his father clasped to his chest, his own tears trapped inside him. He could not cry. He could not scream the agony he felt. For if he did, if he gave in to the grief he would go insane. And first—first he had to kill whoever was responsible.
The soldiers spotted him and began shouting. Eagle gently laid his father beside his mother and stood, reaching a bloody hand out to balance himself. His fingers had closed around one smooth section of the sculpture and left a crimson stain. He had pushed himself away and straightening, walked through the dead and dying, toward one of the soldiers, vengeance in his heart, death in his eyes. The man had lifted his blaster rifle to his shoulder and fixed him in his sights. Eagle had tensed but kept walking, determined to take one of them with him when he died.
"Wait." A voice had come from behind the soldier. Eagle grimaced against the memory. The man had strode up with such purpose, such confidence. "Don't kill him." The man wore a long black cape enveloping his form, snapping around his ankles. His face was handsome, his hair dark, wavy, tinged with silver at the temples. Eagle had no idea who the man was, but he felt himself being weighed by the blue eyes sweeping over him. When the exam was finished, he felt soiled, dirtied, and knew with a sinking heart it was only the beginning.
"Yes," the man said. "He may be just what I'm looking for." His eyes moved to focus on Telles, still doubled over on the floor. "Bring that one too, then take these rebel bodies out and burn them. Search the rest of the building. The others have to be nearby." He turned and with a swirl of black was gone, leaving Eagle and Telles behind in the temple of the damned.
The burly soldier grabbed him and Telles and shoved them out of the temple and into a shuttle craft, where they were shackled and thrown into the hold. He had struggled to a sitting position, trying to support the griefstricken Telles with his weight. "I will stay alive," he had said aloud, tossing his dark hair back from his face, his heart cold, his thoughts crystal clear. "And one day, one day soon, I will avenge my family."
Eagle slipped his fingers away from the stain on the smooth wood and let the muscles in his legs collapse. He fell soundlessly to the floor, to his knees, his hands clasped in front of him, his head thrown back. The children hidden in the chamber below had not been discovered, and the room had remained untouched. But eventually they had been forced to come out to seek food and water. Miraculously, or perhaps protected by some unknown technology, the chamber below had not been found, the door never spotted. Eventually, however, each and every child was captured and taken to Station One by Zarn's men to have their minds altered.
He could not move, could not speak, could not breathe. He heard the sharp intake of breath and the sob that followed but didn't realize it came from his own throat. He was Ranon. He was his father's little eagle. His father had been a Seeker, an Andromedan. He had planned to follow in his footsteps and become a Seeker too. His mother—how he had loved his mother, and his older brothers and sister. Forgotten. Lost until this moment. Stopped from his mind by evil incarnate.
The keening started low inside him, swelled upward to catch in his throat before the heart cry, the grief he could not acknowledge all those years ago, was wrenched from him and sent echoing through the temple. He let it come. He could not have stopped it if his life had depended on it, which perhaps it did, for how could he live with the knowledge of such grief, such agony, such despair? For fifteen years he had lived a lie. For fifteen years he had given his allegiance to the man who had murdered his real parents and destroyed Andromeda and her children.
Eagle began to tremble all over as the sound inside him rose and vibrated through his skull. He wailed as the memories assaulted him. He moaned as fifteen years of grief crashed within him. He screamed as he saw his father's and mother's faces again, open eyes staring without vision, without life. He rocked against the onslaught, his arms wrapped arou
nd himself. Then two other arms wrapped around him. Gentle, caring arms, arms that cradled him like a child. Eagle opened his eyes and saw a woman, silver-haired, her turquoise eyes brimming with tears, moisture flooding her face.
"Eagle," she whispered. "The orb—then it's true. You are one of us. Zarn destroyed your world, your life, as he destroyed mine. Oh, my darling—"
Eagle pulled her against him, his hands moving to her hair, then her face as he possessed her mouth savagely at first, then more gently. He held her against him, as if her warmth, her willing body could absolve him from the past. How many had he killed in the name of Zarn? How many Andromedan children had he allowed to be mentally altered during his short stay on Station One? What had he done?
"No." He took her caressing hands between his and pulled away.
He had done enough to hurt her. When he thought of how he had planned to take her sister from her, it sickened him. She had pegged him right from the start. He was a bastard. He would not hurt her any longer. He would not assauge his need with her body, nor would he confess the love he felt for her, when he knew he was a dead man. He had no doubt whatsoever he would be able to kill Zarn. He also knew there was no doubt whatsoever that he would not be alive after their confrontation. But Sky pressed herself against him, her mouth doing wonderful, terrible things to him as she moved her lips up the side of his neck to his jaw and up to his temple. He groaned and released her hands. They flew to his face and her mouth captured his lower lip, her fingers weaving through his hair, her long legs straddling his lap as she sealed herself against him.
"Sky, no—you don't know what you're doing," he said, breaking away from her tantalizing mouth. She ignored him and moved lower, leaving a trail of warmth from his lips to the center of his chest. "Telles—"
"Telles is in the archives, looking for his own past. I left a stone in the doorway, keeping it open so that we'll be able to get back into the chamber below without disturbing him." She raised her head from his chest and Eagle saw a flicker of hesitation in her eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so presumptuous. I—I guess I wanted to comfort you. And I wanted to—to make it up to you."
Eagle shook his head. "Make what up to me?"
Sky looked down at her hands. If he hadn't known better, hadn't known that Sky was too tough, too bold, too strong to be embarrassed, he'd have sworn she was blushing. She was blushing. Eagle raised both brows and let his lips twist into the semblance of a smile.
"All the terrible things I called you," she said. "I mean, some of those curses are banned, you know."
Eagle lifted one hand to tilt her face up to his. "I know. Luckily I couldn't understand most of them. Although I got the gist of what you meant."
Sky's blush deepened. "I'm sorry. If I'd known who you really were—"
"You mean if you'd known I was an Andromedan and not Zarn's son? But I'm still that man, Sky," he whispered. Then, unable to keep looking at her, he turned away. "I'm still the man who fought for Zarn on a dozen different worlds. I'm still the man who killed for him. I'm still the man who didn't lift a finger to help the kids on Station One."
"But you would have," Sky said, moving closer again. "I know that you would have."
"Maybe. I like to think so."
"I didn't really hate you," she said.
Eagle laughed shortly. "You could have fooled me, darlin'."
"No, it was the fact that you were his son. I was actually attracted to you all along. And now that I know the truth—it isn't that I expect you to be a different person, as in a different personality, but of course this has to change your opinion of Zarn—and that was all truly keeping us apart."
"Really?" He turned back to her, shifting to his knees. "That was all?"
"That and your fear."
He nodded. "I'm not afraid anymore, Sky. I'm sorry. I wouldn't let you in before. I realize now I must have been reacting subconsciously to the buried memory of my mind-probing."
Sky touched his cheek with her fingertips, her eyes so filled with tenderness he thought he would break into a million pieces. "I'm so sorry, Eagle. I'm so sorry for what you've gone through, what I've put you through."
He lifted both hands to her face and slid his fingers into her hair at her temples. His lips lowered to hers, stopping mere centimeters away as he spoke again. "There's no need. You've done nothing wrong. When I think about what I've done for the last fifteen years—what I've believed—"
"Shhh." She silenced him, her fingers over his lips. "Don't think, Eagle. Don't think at all."
"Help me, Sky. Help me not to think."
Sky lifted her face slightly and ran her tongue across his lower lip as her hands began to massage his chest through his shirt. As their mouths joined, she ripped the closures of his shirt apart and pulled it from his shoulders, down his arms, over his hands. She pushed him backward until he was lying flat on his back and stretched atop him, straddling his hips. She grinned down at him.
"Does this remind you of anything, space-boy?"
Eagle felt an odd sense of déjà vu. She was still wearing the silver droid suit, but this time everything was vastly, vastly different.
"Sky, I have to tell you something."
"Later." As he watched, she began to slide one hand down the front of her suit. She had not connected the energy posts and so it was a simple matter to open the seamless fastenings down the center of her chest and let the upper part of the suit slide off onto the floor.
"Sky." Eagle's breath caught in his throat and he couldn't manage the words he'd been about to say—the warning that whatever they had together couldn't last, that he was bound and determined to have his revenge and he didn't expect to return from the encounter alive. He didn't say them because he was too busy memorizing her beauty, engraving it upon his memory.
She was beautiful. She sat astride him like a goddess who had deigned to come down from the stars to join with a mortal man. Her cream-colored skin was as soft as he'd remembered, her body lush and tempting. She left him abruptly, but only to shed the rest of the heavy ensemble; then she was beside him, tugging his clothes from him. This time when they connected it was skin to skin, fire to fire, and the burn was so intense, so consuming that Eagle feared it. She closed her eyes as he touched her, and all at once he knew there was no longer any reason to be afraid. He and Sky were no longer enemies. They were Andromedans—he the son of a Seeker, she the daughter of a Cezan. They were not star-crossed lovers but well suited to one another, they were allies now.
Eagle drew her down to him and with one deft move, rolled her to her back and covered her with his body. She offered her lips to him and he took them. She touched him, running her hands across his back, and he thought he would melt with desire. But as he returned his ministrations to her throat and she leaned her head back to allow him access, he murmured a request against her soft, soft skin. Sky lifted startled eyes to his. Her lips parted, trembled as her tongue darted out and moistened the suddenly dry surface. Tears glistened in her eyes and Eagle felt a deep and wonderful ache inside. How had he ever deserved this woman? How could he make love to her when he would soon be leaving her ultimately alone? How could he not make love to her when he loved her and he knew that she loved him? He owed her this much, didn't he? The ultimate joining? "Well?" he whispered. "Will you?"
She took his face between her hands and kissed him, the kind of kiss he had once imagined a wife would give her husband: warm with love, hot with passion, fervent with loyalty.
"Yes," she whispered. "If you're sure. Oh, Eagle, this time the stars are truly ours."
Her mind rushed out to his like a vibrant wind, met him, and with the sound of joyous laughter whirled him into her arms and into the vast corridors of their minds. They rode the swirling colors and Sky opened herself to him—took him into her memories of Andromeda, of her childhood, of the first terrible years on Bezanti. She showed him her love for Redar and her grief over his death. She showed him her abhorrence for the things she had to do to keep
herself and Mayla alive, but she let him see the side of her that also enjoyed the danger and the cynical bravado that came with being a pirate. Sky let him see her vulnerabilities and her flaws, her strengths and her weaknesses, her need and her ability to give.
In return Eagle let her journey into his innermost thoughts. Together they explored the dim recesses where the forgotten memories had been stored. She helped him open the sealed tombs and let his past soar free once again. She turned what could have been more trauma into delight as she drifted with him through the years, laughed with him over his family's closeness, cried with him again at their deaths. He let her see the person he had become after Zarn had altered his memories, and she did not recoil from him. He hid nothing from her, not even the fact that he had planned to take Mayla and use her to force Zarn to listen to him.
"Eagle…"
The pale blue mist encompassed them as the thoughts and pathways they had so earnestly explored faded away, leaving the two of them alone with their love. They touched and with a rush that superseded the one that had taken them inside themselves, Eagle found himself quite physically back on Andromeda again, Sky beneath him on the hard stone floor of the temple of the Seekers. There were no words. There was no need for words. Eagle began to caress her, to move within her with a gentleness that began in the depths of his heart and spread like a fire between them. All was exposed now. All was open. There were no secrets, there were no dark places, no shadows. There was only brilliant, glorious light and freedom.
Eagle made love to Sky, and with every touch he made promises, promises he knew he would never keep. He kissed her ears and promised to be there to listen. He kissed her throat and promised to be there to hear what she had to say. He kissed her gently, oh, so gently between her breasts, just over her heart, and promised to never break that heart. He kissed her lips and promised her forever. But there would be no forever. And he would break her heart, for there would be no chance to keep these promises. He was as good as dead. There was only now, and it would have to be enough.