Between Frost and Fury

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Between Frost and Fury Page 8

by Chani Lynn Feener


  “Do you honestly think I’d bring you all the way here just to let you get murdered?”

  “No,” she said, then licked her lips and added, “at least not until after the bonding ceremony.”

  His eyes narrowed and his arm turned to stone beneath her hand. She would have pulled away, but the sound of the doors shifting from the other side prevented her from doing so.

  Trystan swiveled back around as the doors opened up to a large domed room. The walls and ceiling where made of thick glass, and sunlight spilled in through the top, lighting the lush greens and vibrant colors of surrounding plants. There was a single path made of white stone with gold flecks leading straight ahead, and at the center sat a glass table designed to seat four.

  There was a woman waiting for them, and she slowly got to her feet as they approached, bowing her head first to Trystan and then to Delaney.

  She was tall and lean, in a tight dress the color of wine. Her hair was nearly to her elbows, the burnt-umber strands loose and straight. She held her palm out toward the two empty chairs across from her.

  Trystan pulled Delaney’s out first and waited for her to be seated, then settled down at her right.

  “Let me start by saying,” the woman said, her voice smooth and confident, “how honored I am to have been selected as your coordinator, Zane Trystan. I assure you, your trust in me will not be misplaced.”

  “My father and I wanted the best,” Trystan replied matter-of-factly. “There can be no argument by the end of this that the Lissa and I are a good bond-match.”

  “Of course.” She bowed her head, clasping her hands in her lap. “I feel that I must inform you of the Rex’s wishes, however.”

  “He doesn’t want you to fix the exercises.” Trystan nodded. “Neither do I. I want this to be a legitimate process, Co Gailie. There can be no mistakes. No one is to be given any opportunity, no matter how small, to question our commitment to each other, or each other’s people.”

  “Of course.” She looked to Delaney. “Lissa, do you have anything you’d like to ask? I’m aware of your upbringing, that you are from Earth. I imagine this is all a tad confusing for you, so if there’s anything, anything at all, you’d like to ask me before we begin, I welcome it.”

  Resisting the urge to glance to Trystan for permission, Delaney attempted to keep her expression impassive. Truth was, there were a million questions swirling around her head, but she was clinging to the hope that none of them would matter. Ruckus had a plan, after all.

  Still, not asking anything might be suspicious, so she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

  “Trystan mentioned something about sessions, plural,” she said. “How many will there be, exactly?”

  The corner of the woman’s lips tipped upward in a way clearly meant to instill a sense of camaraderie. However, the coordinator worked for Trystan. Delaney had no doubt that she’d do everything she could to ensure her Zane got what he wanted.

  “You didn’t tell her?” Co Gailie clucked her tongue at Trystan in mock disapproval, surprising Delaney with her boldness. “Our Zane isn’t one for explanation, so I’ll do the best that I can. Our bindings have traditions that must be followed. They’re set in place to ensure no one rushes into a binding, as our people can only procreate with one partner during our lifetimes.”

  That wasn’t news to Delaney. It was one of the reasons she’d actually felt bad for both Trystan and Olena. She hadn’t thought it was right to force them into something so … definitive.

  “These steps, which we refer to as exercises or testing ceremonies, help coordinators assess whether a pair wishing to be bound is truly right for each other. Better to know beforehand, agreed?”

  Delaney nodded.

  “Good. Now, this is our first exercise, and it also happens to be the simplest. All we’re going to do today is get to know one another. More specifically, I am going to get to know the two of you. I must insist that you both be one hundred percent honest with me, as any lie, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, could greatly affect the results.”

  Why did Delaney suddenly feel like she was being interviewed by immigration to see if she was trying to get away with staying in the country through marriage?

  “Tell me: How did the two of you meet?”

  Trystan settled back in his chair and crossed his legs. The move, which would have appeared casual on anyone else, was a clear tactic. “You already know the answer to that one, Co Gailie. As important as this is, I’m afraid the Lissa and I are on a schedule.”

  “I’ll stick to the questions I don’t already know the answers to,” she said, forcing that smile back in place. “I’m aware you’re here mostly because you were the one Uprisen, Delaney. However, it’s written here you decided to come back due to your feelings for Trystan. It’s very romantic, if you don’t mind my saying so. The two of you discovering each other amid such complex circumstances.”

  Was that how he was spinning it? She glanced at Trystan, but he was focused on the coordinator. It was a little less suspicious that everyone here seemed so resigned to accepting her if they believed it was because the two of them had legitimately fallen in love. It made sense, in a twisted sort of way. It at least explained why they thought she’d agreed to give up her life on Earth and move to another planet.

  “When did the two of you realize there was more between you, romantically?”

  “When he took a zee for me,” Delaney said, forced to play along and thinking up the first logical thing she could.

  Co Gailie asked them a few more questions, all easy to fabricate responses to. She finished another note on her device and then motioned between them with a thin finger.

  “I’ll need to interview you both separately now. How would you like to go about this?”

  “I won’t leave her alone in the room,” Trystan said, rising to his feet and smoothing out his uniform. “I can wait on the other side, out of hearing range. But I won’t let her out of my sight.”

  “Yes,” Co Gailie said, “that will be fine, Zane. Thank you.”

  Delaney watched Trystan circle the table and then cross the room, continuing on the path that led to the other side of the dome where there was a single bench. He settled onto it, throwing one arm over the back, the other in his lap. Another faux casual move; she wondered who he was trying to convince.

  “Your last name is Grace, Lissa?” Co Gailie drew her attention back, typing when she got a nod in response. “Do you have a middle name?”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Delaney answered a slew of seemingly random questions. Not once was she asked anything about Trystan, which she found odd. After her time was up, she was sent to switch places with him, and she couldn’t help but frown as she moved across the stone path.

  Trystan met her halfway, momentarily blocking her. “Problems, Delaney?”

  “Was that supposed to be all about me?” she asked.

  He laughed, and when it was obvious she didn’t get the joke, shook his head. “Everything is about you.”

  He brushed past her and retook his spot across from the coordinator.

  With nothing else to do, Delaney took the vacated bench and waited.

  And waited.

  Maybe it was because she wasn’t engaged in anything this time around, but it felt like Trystan’s questioning was taking three times as long as hers had. Perhaps there was just more to ask him, like things that she wouldn’t have been able to answer because she was from a different planet. Aside from tandem games and 3-D movies, Delaney didn’t know much about the kinds of activities that took place on Xenith.

  Ruckus had tried explaining a few to her while they’d been on Earth, but he’d get distracted by something and she’d forget all about whatever he’d been going to tell her. Watching him get excited over mundane things that she’d taken for granted, like seagulls and saltwater taffy, always thrilled her.

  She wrung her hands in her lap, wishing she had a clock. How much longer until Ru
ckus could come get her? Would Fawna really be able to keep the spaceship hidden long enough to get them off the planet? So many things could go wrong, and none of them were factors she could control.

  An annoyed growl traveled up the back of her throat, and she was grateful the others were too far away to hear it. Something told her that kind of reaction in front of the coordinator, for any reason, wouldn’t go over very well.

  Finally Trystan and Co Gailie stood, the latter bowing to the first before turning to direct a similar move to Delaney.

  Delaney waited until the coordinator had left the room before walking back to the table. She stopped, keeping it between them, and tried searching Trystan’s face for any clues as to what the two of them had been talking about.

  He had his hands tucked into the front pockets of his white pants, head angled slightly while he stared back at her. His silence made it clear he had no intention of telling her what had just been discussed, which wasn’t all that surprising. He hadn’t asked her what she’d talked about with the coordinator, so either he already knew—which was likely—or he didn’t care.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” she said, just to break the silence between them.

  He grunted. “Give it time.”

  “Kind of seems like you’re overreacting.”

  With a hand at her elbow, he turned her so that she was facing the door, and began easing her toward it while he spoke. “This is a dated tradition that I had hoped not to bother with.”

  “And now that we are—”

  “We have to be careful to come across as the perfect match,” he finished for her. It didn’t take long for them to reach her room, but almost as soon as they did, he received another telepathic communication. “I’ll be back soon,” he told her briskly, stepping away. It was obvious he didn’t want to go.

  “I’ll be here,” she said pointedly, but if he heard her, he didn’t show it.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Delaney?”

  She stilled in her seat at the table. Hearing Ruckus’s voice enter her mind immediately calmed some of her nerves.

  “You’re okay.” She’d known he would be, but proof was always preferable. “Where are you?”

  “Close,” he replied. “You?”

  “I’m in my room. Alone,” she told him. “For now. Trystan will be back soon.”

  He’d said he wouldn’t be long, but it felt like a couple of hours had passed.

  “I’ll come for you tonight,” Ruckus said.

  She glanced at the window, trying to gauge how long from now that would be. “You have to be careful. There are guards everywhere.”

  “I can handle them.”

  “We’ve been through worse,” she said, hoping the teasing light in her voice carried over, wanting to ease some of the tension. “Wouldn’t you say?”

  “I don’t think Mariana’s yelling about wet towels on the floor counts, sweetheart.”

  “Really?” She clucked her tongue. “I’ll be sure to tell her that next time we see her.”

  “On second thought…” His sentence faded out, but when he spoke again, the firmness was back. “Wait for my signal. I love you.”

  She was about to repeat it, but the connection dropped and she ended up letting out a frustrated groan instead.

  “You’re prettier when you don’t make weird noises like that,” a small voice said, making her jump.

  Pressing a hand to her heart, she turned to glare at the speaker, blinking when she spotted him. He was just a boy, maybe six or seven, with thick sandy hair and sharp gray eyes rimmed in silver. His small uniform resembled that of a Kint soldier, though in the same way a child’s Halloween costume might resemble a police officer’s uniform.

  “Wow, you move quietly.” She’d been so caught up with Ruckus, she hadn’t heard the boy come in.

  “I’m not supposed to be here,” the boy confessed. “Uncle Trystan might get angry with me.”

  Uncle Trystan? But he was an only child; Ruckus had told her as much. Perhaps uncle didn’t mean the same thing here as it did back on Earth? She’d been implanted with a device that translated their language into English, but sometimes words didn’t carry over properly.

  “He gets angry with me all the time,” Delaney said a moment later.

  “I know,” the boy told her, sounding proud of that fact.

  “You do?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Did he tell you that?”

  “He tells me lots of things.”

  “Is that so?” She took a step closer. “What kind of things?”

  “All kinds. Like that the word asomatous means to have no body, and xanapers are herbivores. There’s a hidden forest in Carnage that only worthy people are allowed to enter; Xenith’s three moons are Ambrite, Armite, and Agite; and your favorite flower is the stellaperier!”

  Information overload. Delaney hadn’t known any of that, aside from the last bit, which twisted her heart painfully.

  Ruckus had been the one to show her the flowers, star-shaped blooms in white and pale yellow that emitted a neon glow at night. Their name loosely translated to “star climber,” and there was a whole mythology to them about how they were once fallen stars trying to return to the sky.

  “Why did Trystan tell you my favorite flower?” More important, she realized with a frown, how did he even know it in the first place? She certainly had never shared that information with him.

  “I asked.” The boy shrugged. “I ask him things all the time. Uncle Trystan swore he would never lie to me.”

  “Ah.” She nodded conspiratorially. “So you take advantage of that.”

  “No.” He pursed his lips. “I do not. He doesn’t have to answer. He doesn’t have to answer to anyone.”

  “Bet he told you that, too, huh?” she said dryly.

  He breezed past her comment, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Why is the stellaperier your favorite? Is it because they glow? I like that they do that, too, but they’re not my favorite. I like gorganatias, because they’re my mother’s favorite. Have you ever seen one?”

  Delaney shook her head, but her response didn’t seem to deter him.

  “Mother used to have a whole garden full of them, taller than me.” He lifted his hand high over his head then dropped it with another shrug. “That’s why I like them, anyway. So, is it because of the glow?”

  It took Delaney a second to follow, then she crossed her arms and moved closer, easing down into one of the glass chairs.

  “No,” she admitted, inhaling to keep the catch from entering her voice a second time. “I like them because they remind me of myself.”

  He scrunched up his nose and eyed her up and down. “Do you glow?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. I meant, their story is all about how the stellaperier are trying to go home. They’re trying so hard that they’re constantly climbing upward, and at night they light up, hoping that their friends will realize where they are and come to rescue them. I feel a little like that, I guess.”

  The boy continued to stare at her for a moment. Then, like a switch had been flipped, his rocking restarted.

  “You miss where you come from,” he concluded, far wiser than she’d expected him to be. “I miss my home, too. But Uncle Trystan says that things happen sometimes that are out of our control, and the best thing we can do is adapt so that we aren’t swept away by our emotions.”

  “He’s paraphrasing.”

  At the sound of Trystan’s voice, Delaney shot out of the chair so fast, the legs clattered against the floor. The boy laughed at her, but she didn’t look at him.

  Trystan had been standing in the doorway across the room, unnoticed—there was no telling how long he’d been there. Now he made his way inside, eyes set on the boy with his hands in his pockets.

  “What are you doing here, Dominan?” he asked, stopping a few feet from him.

  “You wouldn’t let me go to the Positioning,” Dominan said with just a hint of co
mplaint in his tone. “And I wanted to see her.” He leaned in closer to the older Kint. “Uncle Trystan, is that really the color of her hair?”

  “It is.”

  “How?”

  “I told you,” he said, sighing, “she’s not from around here. Where she comes from hair like that is perfectly natural.”

  “Apparently you tell him a lot of things,” Delaney drawled.

  “And it is supposed to be under the agreement that he not repeat any of them,” Trystan said, directing his words to Dominan.

  “Apologies,” the boy murmured, hanging his head.

  “How did you get away from your security detail, Dom?” Trystan asked.

  “I led them to the kitchen and let the cook distract them.”

  If she hadn’t been watching so closely, she would have missed the slight twist to Trystan’s mouth.

  “They’re out in the hallway now.” Trystan angled his body toward the door pointedly. “You’re to go with them and stay with them. Understand?”

  “Yes, Uncle Trystan.” Dominan went to step away and then hesitated, glancing quickly at Delaney one last time. “It was nice to meet you, Lissa Delaney.”

  Still not used to the title attached to her own name, it took her a moment to return the sentiment. Once she had, Dominan skipped off like he hadn’t a care in the world. She watched him go, immediately wishing him back when she realized his departure meant she would be alone with Trystan.

  “So, you going to show me your pet next?” she said as soon as the doors shut behind Dominan.

  “What?” Trystan frowned at her.

  “You know.” She waved a hand in the air. “Your cute, adorable, irresistible pet. The one that’s going to make me realize you’ve got a heart made of cotton candy and you’re just really, really misunderstood.”

  She watched as his cheeks flushed with anger and his gaze hardened. It was a miracle he couldn’t use that stare to shoot laser beams at people—that was how intense it was.

  “You think I set this up?” His voice was low, dangerous. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, Delaney, but even I have my limits. I would never use Dom for anything, let alone to manipulate you.”

 

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