The Fireborn Chronicles

by Mary Andrews

  Mallory said I had been previously trained. It must have been true because there were so many things that I did without knowing how—the meditation, the mind speech, focusing the mind sight. I was a child when they took me away. I scarcely recognized my own body when I saw it that first time. All those years I must have been stasis-trained. So, you see, the Oracles have ordained all of this. I cannot resist what must be. I will know what to do when the time comes. In the meantime, I am where I am meant to be.

  “Well, I guess we may as well use this time to hone our work skills while we can. Since I'm not telepathic, we'll need to work up a system for me to direct you to places and things that need to be done. So let's try this. I will guide you to where I want you to be through what I look at, kind of, like what we've already been doing. I will make you aware of specific things and people I want you to notice in that way. For instance, if I want you to open a door or turn on/off a switch, I will hold my focus on it. When you touch it I will blink once for yes or on and twice for no or off. But first we'll start slowly."

  Still leaning against the counter, Ira concentrated on her left hand. She raised it. He directed his gaze to the tabletop, then to her hand and then back to the tabletop. She placed her hand where he was still looking. He blinked once. She remained still, awaiting his next prompt.

  He repeated the same type of maneuver several times until there was no doubt that she could do what he indicated. Then he signaled for her to leave the table, cross the room and place her hands on the counter near where he stood. She executed the maneuver with ease. Ira wondered at the extent of her skill as she stood before the counter awaiting his next prompt. He had her pick up the cups and move them from one place to another, rearrange them, and finally place them in the sterilizer and activate the device.

  Tristen attacked each exercise with such an intense determination that she quickly achieved a precision and finesse that amazed Ira. In fact, he soon realized that she was anticipating his most subtle intent even before the physical prompts were given.

  She's responding to the intensity of my emotions, he finally realized. “I'm projecting positive and negative emotions, aren't I?” he asked her.

  She nodded.

  “And, of course, you receive them quicker than the visual prompts. Great! Now I won't have to worry about looking like a twitching, blinking idiot in public. I can't believe I didn't think of it myself.” He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “You must think I'm incredibly dense, huh?” He smiled broadly, knowing full well that his amusement would overwhelm her heightened senses.

  She broke out into a smile too, and then they both burst into irrational peals of laughter that accelerated, shaking them both to tears. Tristen stumbled. Ira reached out and caught her. A renewed burst of laughter erupted. He drew her into his arms and held her tightly. All of their senses erupted at the nearness, and their laughter subsided as quickly as it had started.

  Ira tried to release her but found that he could not. She suddenly leaned even more heavily against his chest, and an intoxicating fragrance overwhelmed him. His vision blurred, and he found that he could not call out or speak. Then, though still gloved, a tingling sensation starting from his fingertips traveled up his arms. Unbidden, his senses shifted. Tristen's energy patterns became visible. Ira stared in disbelief. How is this happening? Before his eyes Tristen's pattern began to shiver and change. Sparkling and glistening like water in the mid-day sun, it coalesced into another, more familiar, form. He felt the almost magnetic draw of like-unto-like. Somehow, her essence now matched his.

  What have you done? ... I do not know. He heard her thoughts and knew she heard his, and he could not discern whose feelings he now felt. Everything was so intense and confusing.

  Ira's mind reeled as the connection snapped into place.

  The Oracle's voice echoed through their minds. So shall you be joined as the battle is engaged.

  His perception changed, shifted, returned to normal, Tristen crumpling heavily against his chest. Never had anyone clung to him like this before. He stood for a moment, not knowing what to do. Then, scooping her up, he carried her to the sofa and laid her gently upon it.

  He started to rise, to call for help, but Tristen clung to his arm and would not let him leave her side. He sat next to her on the couch's edge and focusing his energy, projected a single feeling, an all-consuming serenity to dissipate the chaos. He felt Tristen's breathing slow, her body relaxing, her mind at last calm.

  She stirred and finally released his arm, pulling herself up to sit at his side. My head will not be quiet. She leaned against his shoulder, rubbing her temples.

  Her presence felt strange to him now, wildly alluring. He resisted an urge to seize her and pull her even closer. The need to touch her, to calm her, to join with her was becoming overpowering.

  Are you all right? he thought to her amidst the din.

  I think so, she replied

  Ira smiled. We can hear each other's thoughts now.

  Yes, she answered, it seems that you were right. Our destinies are intertwined.

  Tristen leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips.

  Pushing her away, he scrambled to put distance between them. All his life nobody would willingly have touched him. Everyone knew that dissimilar patterns ruptured in an uncontrolled union. But this had not happened. He stared at her in disbelief.

  You heard the Oracle's blessing, she insisted. They approved the mating bond.

  Mating bond? Ira stood dumbfounded. Everything was wrong, different. His senses reeled. “I ... I need to be alone. Stay here.” He stumbled toward the door and left the room, stopping only after he heard it slide shut behind him. Pacing the corridor didn't help. He stopped and leaned against its cold metal wall, immersing himself in the solitude. Then, closing his eyes to any distractions, he sought to decipher his jumbled feelings, regain control of this escalating situation and make sense of it all.

  The laughter, he thought, the laughter triggered something ... she ... we ... were happy ... we were happy together. He paused for a moment as things seemed to fall into place. Mating bond, she said mating bond ... He opened his eyes and considered this. Why the hell not! He headed back to the room.

  Ira paused as the door slid open, then stepped in far enough for it to slide shut behind him. Tristen sat on the couch with her head in her hands. Her anguish cut him like a knife. This is my fault. He focused and projected a soothing calm toward her. Then noticing that the room's lights were garishly bright, he softened them. This is all my fault.

  Tristen stood up to face him. She was miserable and confused, and her face was tear-streaked. She radiated an unnatural discord. He felt the draw of like-unto-like once again. “How did this happen?” he quietly asked.

  She shook her head and looked frantic. I cannot think straight. It is all so scrambled together. She shook her head as if to clear it. But you heard the Oracles, didn't you? They blessed this union. They foresaw it!

  Ira paused. Yes, he had heard the Oracle's voices, and he had recognized them, known them as though ... He looked again at Tristen, still feeling the draw ... like-unto-like. “Our patterns have merged,” he said aloud. “You have taken on my engrams. That is why you can touch me.” He crossed the room to where she stood, his mind racing on several different levels. A commotion of voices clamored beneath his thoughts, but he could not quite discern what they said. Everything felt out of phase. And with every step, the roaring chaos got louder.

  Stopping a foot away from her, he looked deeply into her sea green eyes. His vision doubled with hers. That's gonna take some getting used to, he thought. He pocketed both of his gloves and felt her confusion escalating as his mind reached out to her again.

  Tristen resisted the urge to back away from him. His presence overwhelmed her now. She, too, felt the draw, the need to join with him. Not knowing what to expect, she braced herself against his touch.

  He gently ran his fingertips along the curve of her cheeks. You a
re so beautiful.

  Their senses snapped together again. This time Ira completely opened himself. Again the intoxicating fragrance, and he allowed everything to wash over and through him all at once. Tristen gasped, and he drew her fully into his arms and held her tightly against him. He closed his eyes. Breathe, he told her above the roaring din in their minds, breathe with me ... like a resonance, match my rhythms. He drew slow deep breaths over and over and over again until their bodies behaved as one.

  Now, he said, count to five with me. One ... two ... three ... four ... five.

  Tristen fell into the cadence. One ... Two ... Three ... Four ... Five. ONE ... TWO ... THREE.

  Ira smiled and opening his eyes, loosened his grip on her. Looks like we're in sync now. That should make things easier to deal with. He caressed her face, ears and the nape of her neck ever so softly. I never dared to even dream that something like this was possible. His happiness washed across her.

  The Oracles knew. She paused at his disapproval. Like it or not, you are now a real part of this too. She shivered at the thought. Nothing else has changed. When the mission ends, I will have to return to them. They will either relinquish my service and free me, or they will destroy me. You knew this when you initiated the bond ... when you chose me.

  Ira forced an impenetrable silence between them, and then leaning down, he kissed her hard and long. We will worry about that later.

  * * * *

  Rael retreated to his quarters and seated himself comfortably in his favorite lounger. Sitting through long searches on anything else had proven painful in the past. As he sank into its soft cushions his temple plates flickered, then glowed. Traveling across intergalactic communications lines revealed a universe of possible connections to him. He suspected that his searches were very much like Ira's except that they each traveled on different thoroughfares. It would not be hard to locate a recording of Mallory Switt's voice throughout his many correspondences over the years. So divining a voiceprint would be easy enough, but Tanivol was a very big and busy planet, and Mallory had holdings in virtually all aspects of its many, many industries. Rael slid into deep search mode. No matter, eventually, he would find him.

  Three hours later, at a tiny resort complex half way across the planet from The Palace, he did. Rael smiled and set course toward the tiny port on the Isle of Jesaree, then released the compu-link and stretched the stiffness from of his body. He caught a quick shower, signaled Laynald to join him in the commons and headed for the door.

  * * * *

  Ira held Tristen in his arms as she slept. He could not seem to satisfy this need to touch her, to feel her soft skin next to his. The com by the doorway chimed from across the room. “Com: audio only—com: on,” he spoke softly into the darkness, trying not to awaken her. Tristen stirred slightly then huddled closer, her head resting more comfortably on his shoulder now. He ran his fingers across the different layers of her hair, savoring the texture of it in the darkness.

  Rael's voice issued from the wall, “Ira, grab up Tristen, and join us in the commons again. We dock in an hour and need to run over this plan."

  “Might take us about fifteen minutes, Captain, but we'll be there soon as possible."

  “Anything wrong?” Rael asked.

  Ira smiled as he brought up the room's lighting. He looked up and down her body nestled happily against his. “No, everything is just fine here. Ira out.” The com snapped off. Ira rolled quickly over Tristen, pausing only to briefly nuzzle her neck. As he reached the other side of the bed, he scooped her up in one fluid motion and lifted her off of it. “Captain's orders,” he said, then both of them laughing aloud, he carried her toward the other room. “Wanna share a shower? I'll scrub your back...."

  * * * *

  Laynald had been sitting at the table in the commons studying maps and floor plans for the mission when the captain called for the others. As the com clicked off, Rael looked over to him. “Was it just my imagination or did Ira sound ... different?"

  Laynald frowned. “Don't think I've ever heard him sound like that before. He's usually pretty somber. Have you reached Tristen yet?"

  Rael shook his head. “No response to the com, but I did mention that Ira would be picking her up. She was probably just getting dressed. They should be along any minute now. There haven't been any hold ups before.” They both looked expectantly toward the door. No one entered.

  “Fifteen minutes, huh?” Laynald began. “I hope he hasn't gone and made this harder than it already has to be."

  Rael smiled. “They do make a good couple though, don't you think? I mean he's young. He deserves some happiness. In all this time, I don't think I've ever heard him sound like that before. They're a perfect match."

  “Perhaps too perfect,” Laynald muttered. “The way I understand this, PSI bonds are for life, and how's he going to take it when we put her in danger. This is damned bad timing. For that matter, where do her loyalties lie now?"

  Rael shrugged. “Nothing's changed. They both work for me now, that's all. Worst-case scenario: the kid's confused for a while, but he's still part of this team. He'll come through and bring her with him. You'll see."

  Laynald looked back at the maps. “Hope you're right. Let's get back to the target layout.” They reviewed the city drawings and finally the room-by-room building plans of the resort where Switt was staying before the young couple finally arrived.

  Entering together, Tristen proceeded directly to the table and took a seat while Ira got them something to drink.

  Rael noted the change. “Very smooth, you two are looking like independent agents now."

  “We've been practicing,” Ira answered nonchalantly. He held one of the cups out to Tristen. She reached up and took it and sipped her drink while Ira took the seat beside her. He looked toward the counter, and Tristen set her cup on the table in front of her. She stood and walked to the counter, located the energy bars and brought some back to the table, offering the plate to both Laynald and Rael as she neared them and finally placed it upon the table, reseated herself and resumed drinking.

  Ira beamed.

  Rael paused, taken aback by Ira's expression. He had never seen him so openly happy. “Very impressive. That should certainly make this mission easier. Good work—both of you. Now since some of us showed up late, we better get to this.” Rael activated the table screen, and everyone cleared cups and plates away so as to best see the mission layouts. “All right, this is an island resort ... very remote and very exotic. The building itself we'll access easily. Tristen and Ira will enter as a couple, and we will shadow you individually."

  Rael's temple plates glimmered. “Looks like we've arrived at this little port here.” He pointed to the table map. “Tell you what, Laynald why don't you scout us up some appropriate garb for this place? There are lots of shops and merchants nearby. Since this is a resort, we don't want to look too conspicuous. I'll bring these two up to speed while you're gone."

  Laynald nodded and left.

  Ira watched as he went. “What's wrong with him today? He seemed agitated."

  “You picked up on that, did you?” Rael shrugged. “He doesn't like it when team members complicate a mission or don't prioritize Ops briefings."

  Ira stared at Rael, coldly assessing his words. “Perhaps you should tell him he worries too much, and we can handle ourselves."

  “I did,” Rael said with a smile. “That is why he did not press it further. You, of course, would tell me if there was any likelihood of complications that could arise, wouldn't you?” He turned his attention to Tristen. “Can you handle Switt? Can you bind him for us or will we have to convince him to help us?"

  I will try, sir, but we have worked very closely, and I'm not sure I can completely control him. But I know that he will want to speak to me, to see me, perhaps...?

  “Tristen,” Rael interrupted her, “he will lay claim to you on the spot. Your brand identifies you as his slave, and if he has legally transferred your ownership, he w
ill be obligated to return you to Harbringer or his representative."

  Ira felt a stab of dread in the pit of his stomach.

  Tristen nodded. "Yes, sir."

  Rael continued. “You, however, are under my command now so neither of these claims matter. But I must have Harbringer. Mallory is just a means to get to him. Do whatever you need to do toward that end. But if it becomes more than you can handle, call out, and we will get you out of there.” He paused and checked her body language. She was masterfully controlling her fear, but it was still there. “Tristen, you are not expendable. Do you understand what I'm saying here?"

  Tristen remained silent.

  “What are you thinking?” Rael asked her.

  Ira answered without a thought. “That it will be hard to return to that life after being here. It will be...” Ira stopped in mid word.

  “Okay, maybe you two ought to let me know what else has changed here so I have some idea what to expect from you now."

  Tristen looked uneasy.

  Ira frowned. “I'm sorry Rael, we don't really know what to expect, ourselves. Everything happened so fast. I don't think I could have stopped it even if I had wanted to. Anyway, so far we seem to have linked telepathically, empathically, and look...” Ira took off his glove and touched Tristen's face and hair. “Our electrical patterns match now."

  He paused to take in Rael's reaction.

  “Can you block or shield from each other?” Rael asked.

  They both shrugged.

  “All right, this plan isn't going to work unless Tristen can contain Switt. If anything goes wrong I can't have both of you dropping every time that sadistic bastard gets button happy."

  Ira started to protest but Rael stopped him. “Tristen, you will find Mallory, with Laynald as your back up. Can you shield him from other telepaths if he needs it?"

  I do not want you to go without me, Ira thought to her.

  His mind is very contained, sir, he should not draw their attention. They are looking for important people with corporate information and, of course, for potentially dangerous talents. But I can shield him if he is near enough.