by Casey Lea
Can you kill all four?
Easy-as, Sire. They’re all to gather soon for a wedding.
There was another moment of silence and Sharpeye’s reply seemed faint and tired. Let them have their chance to celebrate. Give them the first dance before striking. Wait ‘til that is done and then make it quick, so they suffer not and need never know.
Gull hunched forward until all he could see was the gold and cream of Blossom. His hands trembled, so he pressed them flat against the floor.
It will happen as you desire, Magnificence. Your enemies will die. Farewell.
51
Wedding Day Jitters
Darsey reflected that her wedding day had already been an interesting one. An early morning apology from Free had been excruciatingly awkward, but at least it had been a distraction. Dealing with Lady Grace, who insisted on the kres tradition of overseeing the bride, had proved more challenging.
“The dead plants you wished are here,” Grace announced in a mystified tone, and Darsey worked very hard to keep her thoughts quiet.
“They’re freshly cut, it's called a bouquet and it looks lovely.”
“Recently dead is still dead,” the old lady observed with a sniff.
You should know, Darsey thought more loudly than she should and quickly buried her face in her bridal bouquet.
“A visitor wishes entry,” Pertwing announced, and Darsey, her eyes still closed as she breathed in the flowers’ perfume, gave an instant response.
“Let them in. Please.”
“Should you not check first?” Grace suggested, but the door field had already disappeared and a tall figure stepped into the room.
“Jileea,” Darsey exclaimed with satisfaction, “you made it in time for the wedding.”
“Luck is with me,” the mermaridian drawled and strode forward to envelop the bride in an unexpected hug. “Thanks to you, I’m sure. I was most plesed with your summons and the plan to bring settlers to this new system. You have excellent taste in future favors. Now tell me all, how did the outcast kres prevail on you to wed?”
“Shockingly easily, really. Oh, we’re pregnant too.”
“So your reunion went well,” the pirate leader observed dryly, before staring around the room. “Your new ride also.”
“It’s time,” Grace interrupted happily, and the main door field dimmed in response to show the glowing nest beyond.
“What?” Darsey squeaked, and Clear rose from the console where she’d been making final arrangements for decorations and music, to join her new friend.
“The celebrant decides the exact time to start,” she reminded Darsey and sent mental reassurance as she adjusted a strand of the bride’s hair. She twisted the long ringlet carefully down Darsey’s back and stepped away to admire the effect.
Darsey returned her scrutiny with a level gaze and spoke quite calmly. “I’m going to throw up.”
The phrase was unfamiliar, but the nausea behind it carried clearly to both kres. Clear’s eyes widened in alarm and she stepped forward, so that she could take both of Darsey’s hands in hers.
“You’re fine,” she stated firmly. “In truth you’re beautiful, and when Nightwing sees you he’ll jaw-drop. Nerves are normal, but trust me. You’ll be great.”
“Promise?” Darsey asked with an intensity that surprised them both. “I mean, it’s all been so fast and I never saw myself as wife material.”
Clear frowned. “It’s not about material,” she reassured the bride, and automatically released one of Darsey’s hands to smooth the sweep of her cream and gold bridal gown. “You look perfect. It’s about you and Wing. Forget the word ‘wife’. Do you want to be with him or not?”
Darsey sighed and squeezed Clear’s hand gratefully. “Of course.” The bride took a deep, calming breath and instantly regretted it.
“Still sick?” Clear asked sympathetically, but Darsey didn’t dare to nod in response.
She stood quite still and uselessly ordered the nausea to recede. A moist sniff, followed by the rattle of phlegm in a wrinkled throat, reminded her of their less-than-patient celebrant.
“Touching,” Grace hawked, and cleared her throat again, before tipping forward in a rustle of heavy silk to stare critically up at Darsey. “You should vomit, girl. Might bring some color to your face.”
“Lady Grace,” Clear protested, with a surprisingly steely note to her voice, but the leader of the BGP tapped her cane once, ominously close to the younger kres’ foot, to stop her protest before it went further.
“Hish, child. So protective and maternal already? Delightful. A pregnancy scan is in order, I believe, but it can wait ‘til after this ritual. As for the bride…” She gave Darsey another thorough inspection and raised a finger decisively. “Stunning. Ye, absolutely stunning.”
Darsey blinked in amazement, but the old lady seemed completely sincere. “Ah, thanks.”
Grace tipped her cane forward as if to fend off the courtesy. “Yes. Stunning. I see how you sucked my boy’s brains out. Right through his orbs.”
There was a choking sound from Jileea, followed by a moment of silence while Darsey struggled with herself and wondered whether assaulting her marriage celebrant was likely to ruin her wedding. However, despite the anger that she deliberately projected, the old kres turned away in apparent unconcern.
“Time to go, chicks.” Grace looked back over her shoulder once as she approached the nest entrance and one eyelid flickered at the bride in the briefest of winks. The elderly marriage celebrant hummed happily when she paused at the threshold to let Darsey join her and the two of them stepped into the nest together.
Darsey had expected to slow down to match Grace’s pace, but instead she was the one who lagged behind. Her footsteps faltered when she looked up and then stopped completely while she stared in amazement at the heart of the ship.
The nest had been transformed into a wonderland. The sound of birdsong fell from the roof high above and the chamber was lit by the same dappled golden light that filled Blossom’s forests. There was gravity for once and a flower-strewn floor had been placed across the widest point of the sphere, with chairs around its edge. A raised walkway appeared in front of her, leading to a floating dais where Wing waited.
He looked across at Darsey and suddenly she was moving again. She went straight past Grace without noticing and was equally oblivious to the petals now falling around her. She reached her love and never even saw Free standing beside him.
Wing reached for her hand and they clasped fingers, as well as fronds. Lady Grace belatedly joined them, along with Clear, but Darsey scarcely registered their arrival.
She saw only Wing, who raised an appreciative eyebrow at his bride, while his frond comment made her smile.
Darsey vaguely heard the ceremony that followed, but had to be prompted to make her vows. Her focus remained on Wing, until Lady Grace’s loud and pointed introduction of Lord and Lady IceFlight.
She exchanged a solemn smile with her husband when she heard their new, family name, but then realized what that meant.
“What?” Darsey exclaimed, looking vaguely around the room. “We’re married? Already?”
“Certain-sure,” Grace purred in response. “Was the ceremony too brief, Lady, or have you had fresh thoughts?”
“No, of course not. It’s just, I’m sure I’ve missed stuff. The bouquet! I’ve got to throw the bouquet.”
“Now you wish to throw it out?”
“To the crowd. Someone has to catch it and then she’ll be the next to get married.” Darsey turned on her heel before Grace could express further disapproval. “Catch!” she called to the crew gathered behind them and threw the flowers over her shoulder.
There was the sound of scuffling and what might have been a curse, before Darsey turned back to discover the result of her impetuous gesture. She looked straight at a bemused Jileea, who despite her surprise clearly had a firm grip on the bridal bouquet. She was also standing on her seat, with one boot on t
he skirt of the kres seated beside her.
“Does this bring Luck?” the mermaridian enquired and Darsey smiled.
“Depends what you think of marriage, but yes, according to tradition it’s supposed to be good luck.”
“I think marriage is lucky plus.” Wing grinned and claimed both of Darsey’s hands.
“So far,” Lady Grace sighed. “But a minute is not much of a test and now I’m the one to feel nauseated.”
She pushed her way to the edge of the dais to face the semi-circle of seats below. “As the oldest present, I volunteer to offer blessing on this merge. I will also proclaim on two requests to found new dynasties.”
Grace held her hands together palm to palm and slowly separated them to reveal the steady flame of a particle of activated exotic matter. “May your hearts be always true and the universe smile on you. May your children thrive and your line be long,” she declaimed, and a murmur rose from the crowd as those watching repeated her last sentence.
“Computer, record,” Grace ordered once silence fell again, and the hidden console signalled its readiness with a faint whistle. “I, Amber Grace, leader of the Bureau for Genome Protection and first among the Noble Aged, herewith register the foundation of two new lifelines. They are founded by Lord Nightwing IceFlight plus Lady Darsey IceFlight and by Lord Freefall FeatherFlight plus Lady Clearwing FeatherFlight, on this date and at this place. We give them welcome and wish them a long and fertile future.”
She turned to face the two couples and offered them a brief, but definite bow, before gesturing toward stairs that had unfolded from the platform and now led down to the blossom-strewn floor.
All four spun in that direction, but Darsey abruptly pulled back on Wing’s hand to make him stop.
“Wait!” she protested, realising what she’d almost missed. “I forgot the kiss. Wing, you have to kiss me.”
“Kiss you?” Wing wondered, glancing at Grace as if to check her reaction to this breach of protocol.
Darsey’s anger flared and almost flashed down her frond, but this time she stopped it.
“It’s culturally important,” she insisted, and managed to project both hurt and indignation as skilfully as Grace at her best.
The old kres’ cane collected the back of Wing’s calf in a meaningful manner, but he didn’t seem to care. He started to smile and then grinned with delight.
“I welcome any excuse to kiss you,” he said sincerely and Darsey stepped happily into his embrace.
“This isn’t an audience participation thing like the ritual with the dead plants?” Grace grumbled, but the cause of her complaint ignored her.
Darsey concentrated only on the kiss, a promise for their future, underlined by enthusiastic and growing applause from their guests. She came up for breath and surfaced into the centre of the galaxy.
Stars exploded around them, a riot of color and light set against the dark of space. She could still dimly see their guests’ faces, entranced within a hologram created by all the power of the ship.
Happy merging, Free’s mind murmured to hers, while his fronds sent trust and welcome.
“Wow,” Wing breathed against Darsey’s cheek and they stopped again to study the stars surrounding them, entranced by the chamber wide spectacle.
Soft music swelled to fill the room further, with the harmony of a dozen different wind instruments, and the couple managed to follow the rest of the bridal party down the stairs, despite still holding each other tightly. Darsey balanced carefully in her heels and make it safely to the floor in the same hug.
When her feet touched the ground the chairs vanished, to create a flower strewn dance floor. The guests surged onto it and dozens of feet crushed the petals, so that a heady scent rose to join the rippling music.
Darsey and Wing were in such a close embrace they simply had to start swaying to be dancing together. The crowd cleared a path as their confidence grew and soon they were spinning through the universe, encouraged by frond warmth and applause. They circled the room, with other couples following in their wake and Darsey sighed happily.
“Do you think we'll ever find each other old and boring?”
“We won’t be old for ages-plus, but I already find you boring.”
Darsey laughed and realized she was as happy as she had ever been. “That’s a relief. No need for boring, wedding night sex then.”
Wing’s frond instantly wrapped around hers to send contrition and despair, making her smile while they swept through the dancing crowd. Everything was perfect and nothing could spoil the most wonderful night of her life.
52
Confession
Free tried to tear his gaze from Darsey, but it seemed impossible. His wife murmured something in his ear, but he hardly knew what. The evening couldn’t possibly get any worse.
He finally turned to Clear with a smile he knew was distracted, but was also the best he could manage. She squeezed his forearm warmly and then left. She merged with the crowd and disappeared to do… something.
Free briefly wondered what, but that was irrelevant so long as she was happy. He would always keep her happy.
Which meant he needed help. There must be some cure for his present madness, but only one person would know. He searched the room for Lady Grace and saw her sitting in a circle of acolytes and crew. She had them all laughing, even his hardened Tactical Senior, so she must have been telling some of her more scurrilous Court stories.
Free made his way around the dancers and the circle opened at his approach.
“Would you care to dance, Lady?” Free requested and the old kres cackled delightedly. “I'm most serious.”
“Hish, my dear. We've no wish to make your wife jealous.”
“I repeat, Grace, that I'm serious. Clear will doubtless understand and at this moment she's busy. I've a support field ready for you and I promise to move most slow. Shall we?”
Free offered his hand and the old lady examined it suspiciously. He offered a smile too and she sniffed, before placing her withered claw in his grasp. A glow flowed from his wrist to encase his partner and her feet came off the floor in response. She rose and floated over petals, wafted into the dance by the young leader. Startled glances followed the couple and she began to chuckle.
“What a charming idea. Your crew seem quite shocked.”
“I don't usually dance.”
Grace laughed harder and when she tipped her head back one of Free’s fronds snuck between them, to surreptitiously touch hers.
Can you help me?
Grace kept smiling, but her mental response was guarded. How?
I fear I might be bonded.
Good news, surely.
Not to my wife.
The old woman stiffened in his arms, to stand somewhat straighter, but her smile remained in place. Tell me.
When I first greeted Darsey, it was strange. My skin burned and my chest was so tight I could hardly breathe. If I brush past her it feels, wonderful.
A moment, child. They continued to waft through the dancers, but Free felt the heat of a scan against his palm. I fear it's true. You've bonded with the alien.
They circled in genuine silence for several seconds and Free knew his mind was leaking grief and horror, but it was impossible to stop.
Isn't Wing bonded to her? How is this possible? At first I thought she must be a biological weapon. Something aimed at kres.
But no longer?
No. I've felt her mind. She loves him.
Indeed, but you were right. For you the girl is a weapon.
Free hissed and Grace chuckled to cover the inappropriate sound. She's not deliberately destructive. Her pheremones do lock with yours, as well as your cousin's, but I don't believe such was planned. I gather her people are normally pheremone free.
Then how?
She absorbed cells from Wing and they've changed to suit her body. Her hands seem to have pheremone glands that were once his. I believe you were also caught, because you and Wing are so sim
ilar.
Chemically similar? Because we're cousins?
Genetically and you are more than cous-
Free stopped, nearly collecting another couple, but completely distracted by the thought Grace had tried to repress. “More than cousins? What do you mean?”
The old lady tugged at her young partner and he returned them both to motion. Nothing of note she thought brusquely. You've more urgent issues and decisions to make.
What decisions? I assumed I was pheremone bonded to my wife. How could I have been so wrong?
Grace squirmed in Free’s arms as if he was tickling her. Naivety. Youth. Stupidity. They’re all much the same and tend to come from inexperience. You were excited by a new attraction and a fresh relationship. Such always offer an easy thrill.
Free tightened his frond around the old lady’s in fresh anguish. Clear’s involvement is your fault. We should have waited to wed.
That was my doing, Grace agreed without a hint of regret. But it did have one positive result.
I should hope for more than one. I love my wife. How can I hurt her? I'll stay true to Clear, as long as she wants me.
Free stopped thinking. He seemed to have no words left, only feelings, while he turned and turned in a scented vortex of loss and confusion. He let the dance take him and withdrew his frond, but one of Grace's strands darted forward to renew contact.
A most noble decision, dear one. The temptation to try to win Darsey must be great. However, this path will cause less pain for all. Especially as Clearwing now carries your child.
Free stopped again and this time no nudging could shift him. “You're sure? I'll not tolerate some game to make me do as you wish. Not about this.”
“Indeed not. I’d never lie about a child. The scan is fresh. I took it during the ceremony. I was bored.”
“You were the celebrant!”
“Your point?”
“I think it’s more relevant that Clear was distracted, giving you the chance to nosy-beak.”
The old lady ignored his accusation, to instead send Free the results of the scan. He released her to study it closely, while around them other couples also parted, as the first dance came to an end.