Chapter 22
Dawn, and the growing clamor of animals waiting to be fed woke Dynan. The men had already gone to tend them by the time he dressed, and had moved to the fields when he left the house. He didn’t see Elana or Viana either, but guessed they were out tending to chores. He found the draw horse, Boomer already hitched to the supply cart, waiting half-asleep.
The trip into Gesta was made easier on maintained roads. Anti-grav units, like the kind that were affixed to the bottom of the cart, didn’t react well to uneven surfaces. Creal might be an arrogant bastard, Dynan thought, but he kept his System in decent order. Boomer, however, refused to move at more than a plodding trot that didn’t last without a lot of constant urging.
Dynan finally arrived in town, and retrieved all the things he needed, including one last component for the XR-30. Not necessary to fly, but this particular device would make the ship operate more efficiently. While helping Broq with his studies, they’d discovered a recent improvement in coolant systems, a thermal catalyst, that would reduce coolant consumption by half, and Dynan meant to install it after he was underway, or hopefully give it to Trevan.
The Trading Post and Exchange had a variety of items he thought to buy for the Marleens, but he realized he couldn’t attract the kind of attention a lot of gold would bring. He had to remember he was Riegle’s hired-on help, and in such case couldn’t go around showing a great deal of wealth. He settled for a bolt of fabric for dresses, and he couldn’t resist one other small purchase.
He found delicate woodcarvings in a front stand; one a black swan, its neck elegantly arched. He bought that for Elana, putting the purchase in his pocket. He finished up with food packaged for travel. He thought that might raise a few questions, but the clerk wasn’t paying attention. It took Dynan a moment to realize that she was looking at him rather than what she was packing.
“Is your name Dain?” she asked.
He froze, and shook his head. For a moment, he thought she recognized him, and now knew who he was. “No.”
She seemed confused by the response. “Oh, well there were two men here a few days ago. They seemed nice enough, and they gave a good description of someone just like you.”
“Two men?” he asked. “What did they look like? I’m waiting for some friends.”
“Out at the Marleen’s, yes. Riegle said he’d hired extra help, but if you’re name isn’t Dain, then—”
“These men, did one of them have brown hair, dark blue eyes, big?” he asked eagerly.
“Yes and the other was blond, and just as strong looking, but slighter, maybe a little taller than you,” she said, still confused, and he felt like he needed to explain.
“Dain is my...” His voice faltered briefly. “...my brother.” He smiled stiffly, hoping she wouldn’t ask him anything else. He felt immensely relieved hearing that Ralion and Sheed had been there, but at the same time suddenly dreaded seeing them.
She frowned again, then seemed to realize what he meant and nodded. “I’ll tell them I saw you if they come back.”
He nodded and collected his things, relieved again that she hadn’t seemed to make the connection. He supposed he didn’t look at all like the pictures she would have seen if she’d looked at a history file. It was a strange feeling.
The larger sacks were loaded for him, and he left, heading back to the farm. That Ralion and Sheed were so close to finding him made Dynan reconsider his plans. Maybe he should stay where he was, he thought, but then shook his head. He could take the XR-30 up to scanner range, just long enough to be spotted, and drop back down. He would do that a number of times, leaving a trail of sorts, almost undetectable by anyone but his men. There wasn’t any guarantee that Maralt wouldn’t find him too, and after the incident with Creal, and what happened at the Trenmar Port with the guards, Central Control would be looking for him as well. A risk he would take to make it just a little easier for his friends to find him.
He reached the outer edge of the farm by midday, urging the horse by fields of winter wheat, and late corn. He pulled into the main yard, drawing the horse up.
One of the other draft horses ran loose across the yard, scattering chickens in its wake. He saw all three milk cows turned out of the barn, and they seemed panicked as well. The front door of the house stood open.
At midday the family usually gathered again for their meal, but there was no sign of them. It was overpowering, the onslaught of fear, taking away his ability to breathe. Dynan moved to the house, every sense alert, and felt himself start to shake.
He looked in through the windows, and saw nothing; no meal in preparation, no movement. The house was utterly still.
One of the milk cows bleated at him, staring wide-eyed as he moved by it toward the barn, each step taking him closer to dreadful realization. Just inside, lying on the ground in shadow, he found her, the smell of blood rising to choke him. He moved to her side, shaking in fear, and reached to turn her, whispering her name.
“Elana.”
He couldn’t look away fast enough, couldn’t avoid seeing the way she had died, the cut that ran from shoulder to waist, her skin flayed open, fear frozen permanently on her face. An incredible pool of blood surrounded her. Dynan turned away in revulsion, on his knees beside her lifeless body. Horror filled his mind, and the knowledge, stark and glaring that he was responsible for this act of violence, responsible for his stupidity in believing he was safe anywhere. He might as well have killed her himself, killed all of them.
“You should have taken her when you had the chance.” Maralt stepped from the interior shadows of the barn, wearing the same haughty smirk permanently burned into Dynan’s mind. “Now the worms will have her.”
Dynan lurched to his feet, sword in hand, and lunged after him. Blind rage filled his mind, leaving only the thought of killing this man as brutally as Elana had died. Dynan slammed into him, and the two swords clashed. Maralt met his attack without wavering, pale eyes locking on Dynan’s, pupils expanding to nearly fill the grey area.
“I will take from you everything and everyone you care about. When there is no one left alive, after you’ve suffered every possible grief I can imagine, I will take your heart in my hand, and rend the last vestiges of humanity from your soul. You will never know such pain as in that moment. You can’t escape, because I will it to be so, and you’ll beg me for the mercy of death. You’re so very close to it now. Death is coming for you, Prince.”
He raised his hand, a signal, and Maralt’s men emerged, surrounding him. Maralt pushed him away. Reeling, Dynan turned to meet their attack, his sword swinging wild, and ineffectual. Hopelessly outnumbered, he crashed into them, his attack carrying him beyond the circle of assailants.
He fought and killed, one man immediately replaced by another, but too many to fend off. He cut his hand deeply when he used it to stop a blade slashing at his head. At the same time, another sword arched toward him, piercing his right arm, and another cut across his shoulder. He staggered back, stumbling out into the light of day, and they came after him.
A wind swept dust up into his eyes, choking him, and he fell. He heard voices calling, screaming men as more died around him. Countless hands reached for him. A smothering grey cloud rose up.
“Dynan, where’s Dain? Where is he?”
He felt himself hauled back, away from death and the enemy. Sheed was beside him, fighting off attack after attack. He saw Carryn lunging against Maralt, and a squad from the Exile Base fought around her.
More hands pulled him, drawing him onboard a hovering ship. They left him in a heap on the deck, and he watched through eyes glazed in horror as Carryn retreated, reacting to a shout of command. Ralion, Sheed, and Frazier held off a growing number of enemies while Maralt escaped. The Base forces were overwhelmed by the men that charged from the woods from every direction, surrounding them, and they died. Carryn rushed onboard, stumbling down beside him.
“Dynan.” She grabbed his shoulders. “Where is Dain?”
***
Carryn shook Dynan again. Soon none of them would escape. She was faced with the unacceptable choice of getting out now, and leaving Dain behind, or dying to save him. She turned, unwilling to give the order, and as Dynan collapsed the glitter of gems caught her eyes. Sapphire and emerald.
Dain’s ring. The thought spilled through her mind, shattering in its impact. Dynan had Dain’s ring.
Sheed was screaming at her, the chaos of defeat filling his voice. He fell, and Carryn charged out to pull him back, barely parrying the thrust that would have killed the guard. “Ralion, Frazier, now!” she yelled, and yanked Sheed onboard the ship. She went back to fight off another attack, keeping open the narrowest corridor for the others. Frazier dove onboard, taking a thrust in his leg. Ralion followed, killing the man who did it. Carryn looked in desperation for anyone else from the Base.
“Trevan, move!” Carryn ordered.
“Where’s Dain? We can’t leave him,” Sheed said, trying to move back out the still open hatch. “Stop, Carryn, we can’t leave him here.”
“Carryn?” Ralion asked, blasting laser fire into their enemies. He waited by the jump door as the ship lifted away, ready to go back.
She couldn’t tell them. She couldn’t say it. She wanted to deny it. Speaking this horror aloud made it real. In the end, she didn’t need to. They saw it in her face, and saw proof of it, glimmering through the blood on Dynan’s hand. Dain’s ring.
~*~
Chapter 23
The room was so quiet, with nothing but the hum of monitors to break the silence, that when Dynan screamed, the sound ripped into Carryn, starting her into instant motion. She pushed him back down, holding him there until the automatic increase of medication began to take effect. The screams subsided to hollow whispers, but Dynan thrashed against the restraint field Carryn had activated, eyes open, sightless, and vacant.
Dead, she thought. His eyes are dead.
For a week, as they traveled onboard the XR-9 toward Trea with the Star Destroyer shadowing their every move, Carryn sat by the bed, waiting, wondering if Dynan Telaerin had the strength to survive. The only time he’d woken, so briefly, he’d begged to die, begged Carryn to allow it.
Geneal had attempted everything she knew to try to get him to respond, weaning him from the mind dulling drugs she’d been forced to use just to keep him still, and they’d nearly lost him after that. A telepath bent on self-destruction, and there was little anyone could do to stop him, except give him just enough medication to keep him from concentrating. Keep him from killing himself.
Carryn couldn’t find it in her heart to blame him for wanting to die, not after seeing the horror of what remained of the Marleen farm. The girl in the barn, her father and two brothers out in the fields, and her mother, slain in an unspeakable manner behind the house. An entire family, wiped out, brutally murdered for no other reason than their association with Dynan Telaerin. Carryn wondered if they’d even known who he was.
They left Dynan in Geneal’s care at the house that Allie and Gaden set up, and gone back, while the XR-9 stayed out of range of the Destroyer. They’d gone to collect the dead soldiers from the Exile Base, and they had to make certain that Dain wasn’t there. Frazier, Sheed, and she had searched the entire farm. All of Maralt’s men had vanished, dead and alive alike, but they found the Marleens, black birds and buzzards squabbling over them.
But not Dain. Leaving the others to tend the fallen, Carryn had gone into town, and learned with a few careful questions that Riegle Marleen never mentioned another man other than De Alurn. Dain hadn’t been there, hadn’t died there. Carryn knew then that they would make another stop; at Trophan.
They hadn’t found Dain there either, but Carryn found half hidden by the undergrowth of the forest clearing a silver chain and the small crystal clasped in the talon of a dragon. She knew the woods. She’d seen it before, rushing by in a blur of vision. And she knew that Dain’s death couldn’t be denied any longer.
Her eyes drifted to the small, carved swan they’d found tucked in the pocket of Dynan’s jacket. Geneal had put it on the stand beside his bed with the two rings. Carryn thought of the girl, so young and beautiful. Maralt had tortured that girl, the horror of it frozen permanently on her face and now in Carryn’s mind. Her soul had been taken. It was the same look she’d seen on Ambrose Telaerin.
The door opened behind her, and Geneal came in. Her eyes were bloodshot, full of weariness and concern, and Carryn saw that she’d been weeping. “I heard...”
Carryn nodded, looking back at Dynan. He was still now, his breath shallower, all the indicators of his life sinking farther than last time.
“He isn’t going to make it, is he?” she asked.
Carryn glanced at her, considering the irony that Dynan’s physician should ask her that question, indicative of the state of mind of every member of the crew. They all looked to her, and she didn’t have an answer. “There’s only so much the mind can stand before it breaks, Geneal. Being a telepath only makes it more deadly. If he survives, will he be sane? Will rage be all he has left? Maybe it would be better if he does die.”
“You can’t believe that.”
“They were too closely linked.”
Geneal started to speak, but had to stop, covering her mouth, then wiping her eyes quickly. “I’m sorry.”
“So much for professional detachment,” Carryn said, and moved to her side, putting an arm around her. She thought they’d all be joining her soon in grief. No one onboard ship thought any of them would survive if Dynan died.
Frazier came in a moment later, looking to Dynan with the same haunted expression Geneal wore. “We’ll be entering the Trea System in six hours.”
Carryn nodded, letting Geneal go. “Are we still being tracked?” she asked even though she already knew the answer.
“Yes. Communications are down. Long range sensors. Everything.”
Carryn looked back at Dynan as he shook from an inner turmoil that couldn’t be stopped. She experienced the terrible nightmare that the Prince remained trapped in, finally seeing what had happened at Trophan, and dreaded trying to do so again. Witnessing the horror of Dain’s death once had been enough, and she felt cowardly for it. Dynan’s acute sense of responsibility for Dain’s death made Carryn more aware of her own failure to protect them. She still couldn’t believe she’d allowed Ralion and Sheed to leave them, playing right into Maralt’s plan so easily.
“We may not have much time to warn Drake. Maralt will likely follow us to the very fringe of the System, and if Trea Central Control detects the Star Destroyer that close, Drake will launch an attack. In which case, none of us will survive much longer. Tell Allie to keep trying. Any word from Trevan on the engines?”
“We’re going as fast as we can. He tells me he’s working on something to change that,” Frazier said. A weary smile crossed his face. “I got lost in the explanation. Sorry.”
Carryn nodded, and sat back down, watching Dynan. He muttered, tossing, and tried to raise his arms, but the restraint field prevented him, its intensity increasing the more he struggled until he was reduced to shivering spasms. “Keep me informed.”
Frazier nodded, but remained, watching with him. Ralion stepped in, looking up to the bank of monitors. Sheed was pacing in the other room. They were waiting. They were all waiting, hoping for life, but expecting death.
Geneal moved stiffly to check Dynan’s bandages, and the tubing he’d disturbed in his thrashings. Carryn watched her, struggling to keep her own grief at Dain’s death from overwhelming her. Carryn hadn’t been able to tell her what she’d seen, but Geneal discovered Dynan’s exposure to the poison Marinodrox, one of the deadlier drugs that existed. Geneal would certain realize how Dynan had been exposed. Carryn thought about Dain dying from i
t, and the terrible vision replayed in her mind, shaking her.
She wondered how she would tell Dynan that his brother’s body couldn’t be located, couldn’t be properly laid to rest, with no Rites of Transition. If he even lived to hear it.
There didn’t seem to be anything they could do to prevent his death, happening so slowly before them. The drug, anethinol, used to keep telepathic ability to a minimum wasn’t working. Anethinol wasn’t blunting his brain activity enough to stop him. Maybe it even helped him, by filtering out awareness of everything else.
Carryn frowned at that a moment. “Geneal, what would happen if you stopped the anethinol?”
The doctor was surprised at the question. “I think he’d die.”
Carryn frowned again, wishing she could ask her teachers for the answer. She didn’t know enough. Sometimes it felt like stumbling blindly in the dark, searching for answers. “I think we should turn it off. Don’t wean him down, just shut it off.”
“Carryn, I can’t do that. It’ll kill him. You can’t—”
“It’s already killing him. Maybe it’s time we forced him to make up his mind. I saw the nightmare he’s locked himself in. He isn’t aware of anything or anyone else. If we can break that cycle, we may be able to force him back to reality.”
Geneal shook her head, but her brows drew down as she thought it over. She looked at the monitors, her shoulders sagging, and she shook her head a second time. “I don’t know.”
“It may be the only chance we have of saving him.”
Slowly, plainly dreading that the decision was wrong, she moved to the infusion pump that regulated the flow of medications. She looked at Dynan, then Carryn, and nodded abruptly. Her hands shook as she turned the machine off.
Dynan began to stir only a few moments later, low mutterings at first, that quickly changed to frantic thrashing. Geneal released the restraint field, and his hands flew up, covering his head in a protective gesture. When he started screaming, Geneal wavered, taking all her resolve not to turn the Anethinol back on, and Carryn wondered if Geneal would have the courage to stay and watch him die. She wondered the same of herself.
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