by Casey Lea
There was another momentary sense of movement before the floor steadied. The images in the waterfall changed to show the planet growing rapidly closer and a mismatched palace appeared. Two tiny figures emerged from it, to balance on a tilted balcony.
“Zak,” Nikareon breathed, but Amber looked only at the other figure, which sagged against Zakareon.
“The Arck,” she said. “Screen one zoom in.” The computer obeyed and Falkyn’s face grew to fill the image. His cheeks looked drawn, while his skin was as pale as weak custard. Gods above, she’d been right. He did need her here. “Get to him now. Please.”
Nikareon ignored her. It didn’t matter though, because he was already guiding the ship closer. Another image appeared to show the distant pair growing fast. They swiveled to face the ship and the view tilted when the vessel swept to a stop beside the balcony. Amber didn’t wait to see them enter. She was already pulsing herself down the link.
Nikareon caught her before the end and they exploded into the entry together. The rescued couple swaying there both looked up and Zak turned every bit as pale as his half-brother. Nikareon stopped at his expression, while Amber kept on going. She felt the hostility pouring from Zak’s fronds, but had eyes only for Falkyn. The Arck released his grip and sank to the floor, while Zak stood there unmoving.
Amber pushed straight past the tall Flight.
“Oh, gods.” Her heart felt like it was squeezed too tight in her chest. “What did they do to you?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, but dropped to the ground where Falkyn was kneeling.
“I’m good,” he grimaced, but tried to shrug and winced. “Good up front, not so much behind.”
Amber shifted to his back and had to shut her teeth against more profanity. It was a maze of red and black, with strips of skin peeling away. She slapped a full strength med-field into place and started work.
“I told you not to go in alone,” she muttered, but Falkyn knelt up straighter with a satisfied sigh.
“Gods, I love local anesthetic,” he said. “And you know why I had to accept that invitation from Belthezeon to come alone. It was the only way to get onto the planet and deal to the shield.”
Amber shut her teeth against further words, because this was an old argument that she’d already lost. The thing was done now and despite her sense of dread Fal was alive. That was all that mattered. She shifted uneasily as she worked, because she still felt unsettled. No, she felt furiously angry – even close to rage. The emotion was powerful and she had no idea where it was coming from. Unless it wasn’t hers at all.
She looked up at Zak with sudden understanding and his fronds were stiffly bushed, transmitting his distress, while he glared at Nikareon. There was definitely an issue there, but before it could explode Nik turned on a heel and walked away.
“Welcome aboard,” he called back over his shoulder. “I’ll be in the nest if you wish to talk. Otherwise make yourself free of the Horizon’s cabins.”
The words wafted away down the link to fade along with their speaker. That was odd. Nikareon wasn’t one to flee. Amber glanced up at Zak, who still hadn’t moved. He stood statue-still with a face of stone. She felt Falkyn’s curiosity about the situation too, but before either of them could start to pry a priority whistle sounded from Falkyn’s com. He lifted his wrist and sighed at what he saw. Amber sent a mental query and he looked over his shoulder.
“Seems my Leader of Security is anxious. About you. Why is that?”
Drak. Amber’s hair stirred with embarrassment and an image of the fight with the mermaridian parishioners flashed through her fronds before she could stop it. Her memory started to roll back further, to Raptor’s attack, but she managed to stamp on it in time. Her relationship with Raptor was her own issue to solve. Falkyn had enough to deal with and even her slip about the mob attack had made his back tense under the med field, until more skin peeled from it. He frowned up at her, but she shook her head, refusing to say more, and he accepted the call.
A hologram of Raptor appeared, which showed him jerking to attention. “Sire. You’re well? Ah... injured, I see, but healing. Congratulations. It seems your strategy worked brilliantly on all points but one.”
A growl ran through Falkyn’s back and up Amber’s arms, which were buried deep in the healing field, but it was too low for Raptor to hear.
“Where did I fail?” Falkyn asked quietly and the Head of the Bureau for Royal Protection snapped laser-line straight.
“Pardon, sire,” Raptor amended, “You didn’t fail. However, if you’d acceded to my request to accompany you, you wouldn’t be injured. I trust you appreciate my importance now. I’m more vital to you than any court sycophant.”
Falkyn stirred impatiently. “You seem certain-sure of that, but I’m less convinced. Tell me why Lady Amber was almost lost to a mob when she was in your care?”
Raptor’s short-cropped hair tried to stand further on end, but Amber answered before her bodyguard could die from shame. After all, he had just saved her life. Shortly after trying to take it. Did that mean she owed him, or did his rescue simply cancel out his earlier attack? She didn’t know and didn’t care, but he’d be no future use to her either dead or demoted.
“He’s not to blame. The fault was mine. I slipped out. For some air.”
Raptor looked shocked when she claimed responsibility, but the Ark didn’t notice. Falkyn was staring over his shoulder at her instead. “Because the crash-capsule air was so sour? While the stench of a rotting slum was delightful? I shouldn’t have let you come.”
Amber slapped another field in place, hard enough to make Falkyn wince. Drakkit, more guilt to carry. “Who’d be tending you so gently and skillfully if I wasn’t here?” Seriously, her fronds added, you were going into danger and I’m the best healer you’ve got, so I had to come. We can’t lose you, Fal. I can’t. panic/grief/failure
Amber stiffened when the last emotion slipped out and she felt Falkyn’s curiosity about how she might fail without him, but he let it pass.
“I’m tired,” he told Raptor. “I’ll see you back on Kresynt and we’ll discuss Lady Amber’s protection further.”
Raptor hid any expression he might have had with a quick bow. Falkyn flicked his com and the image vanished. “In truth I’m not just tired. Closer to exhausted. I need to fall on my face. Can you finish your fix while I sleep?”
“Of course. Let me get you to the nest though and you can rest in comfort.” Amber wedged her shoulder under Falkyn’s armpit and forced him to his feet. He stumbled into the link and she wafted him along, humming to herself. It seemed she was happy to have the Arck safe and under her control. Certain-sure it was a relief to be back on the path for her rendezvous with Darsey and the Iron Altar.
11
Tea for Two
Darsey IceFlight leaned forward with a polite smile and offered her guest a plate. “More finger food, Lord BackBeak?” she asked, and his hopes of finishing quickly shrank. He scowled and she dropped the plate to the table with a thud. “Was that wrong?”
BackBeak sniffed, and instantly regretted it. The stench in his makeshift morning room was appalling. “Don’t call it finger food.”
“Isn’t that its name?”
He raised an embroidered napkin to his mouth and dabbed at his lips. “Yes, but only to servers still in the kitchen. A lady like Darsey IceFlight would offer another morsel, or treat, or name the food specifically. Do you understand?”
The girl seemed to be staring vacantly at a lock of red hair she was curling through her fingers and he silently cursed brain-smoothed clones.
“Understand?” he asked more sharply and she jerked forward to clutch the plate again.
“Would you care for a morsel of this treat, Lord BackBeak? It’s animal protein layered with artificial fats and yeast-infused cereal products.”
BackBeak stamped his feet and tried to stamp out frustration so strong it was drowning him. His worthless student didn’t even flinch and ju
st stared vacantly at the plate. The only response to his anger was a groan from under the table. He closed his mouth on a curse and pushed his chair back until he was further away from the dark shape slumped near his feet. That curled-up shadow was the Darsey-clone’s previous tutor. The ruined shell of a teacher began to sob and BackBeak felt his lip curl. He had no idea why the fool had broken-down, but these working conditions were certain-sure intolerable.
BackBeak jumped upright and strode across the cell to clutch its bars. “I can’t work like this. Guard! Shift the would-be corpse. I’m trying to teach etiquette, not torture.”
“It’s much the same,” the clone said and he spun to face it. It was staring straight at him and its blank blue eyes looked unusually focused. He shuddered, but it dropped its gaze to stare at stray tendrils of hair again and he relaxed.
Drakkit. He could have been a Tetrark. Should have been by now with the collapse of his clan’s old leader, but Freefall had ruined his standing. Now his fool of a nephew was being groomed to rule instead, while he had to groom to survive. The gods were brutally unfair and likely cretins too. How could they order the Universe like this? Dross should never float to the top.
The exiled kres tightened his grip on the bars until his knuckles ached and all he could see was his nephew’s darkening face. Suffocation was too good for the treacherous brat, but at least it would offer some comfort.
Long, smooth fingers curled over his and the clone gripped the bars hard. Too hard. BackBeak started and tried to pull back, but couldn’t escape.
“Release me,” he shrieked, but the idiot creature crushed his hands until they were ground against the rusty iron. What was it thinking?
“Let me loose,” he wailed and it turned its slack features to look at him. They tightened, until its expression was shockingly alert.
“You need to say please,” Darsey’s clone ordered and he groaned at the pain and her obvious insanity. It was madness to expect manners at such a time.
“P-please,” he gasped, because he finally had to.
“Please, Lady Darsey.”
“Arrgghh. Let me go, you crazy ditch.”
The clone relaxed her hold, but BackBeak’s hands stayed clenched when he tried to make them let go. They were bloodless and their pale grip felt like rigor mortis. He sank to his knees, dragging his frozen fists down the bars after him and the clone sank with him, to crouch behind him. He shuddered when her lips brushed the back of his neck.
“Manners aren’t as important to you as you claimed.” She rose to her feet and a sob escaped him. “In fact they seem to be useless. I’m about to be sent into danger and when I replace this society lady I’ll need better tactics than camouflage. Tell Malik I want a new teacher.”
12
On Board with Nikareon
Amber straightened on the stool where she was perched beside Falkyn, then leaned back to stretch her spine. The Arck was sleeping soundly and his healing was almost done. She could leave the last scabs to the regen field. She pushed hair back from her forehead and looked around the forest marquee that masqueraded as the ship’s nest. Nikareon was standing right behind her.
“Holy hemorrhoids,” Amber squeaked, rising a foot in the air. “Do you always sneak up so?”
Nikareon bit his lip, but to his credit didn’t smile. “Apologies, Lady. I had no intent to scare you.”
Amber’s blood was still pounding in her ears and for a moment she doubted what she’d heard. Did the Beserk just say he was sorry? “What do you want?”
His sardonic smile returned. “Not diplomacy or soft words fortunately, for I’d be truly out of Luck.”
“You’d be truly out of your depth too. However, you’ve been of some small assistance today, so how may I help?”
Nikareon’s jaw set. “I saved you.”
“Actually Haze rescued me. But it’s sweet that you tried.”
His eyes frosted over and for a moment Amber thought he might lose his temper. She suddenly remembered she was baiting a Beserk and cursed her stupidity, easing her weight off the stool she was sitting on and curling her hand around its edge. She had no idea what she was going to do with it, but it was better than-
Nikareon burst out laughing and she collapsed back onto her seat. Insufferable male.
“Were you really going to wave a stool at me, Amber?” He looked at her more closely and frowned. “Don’t be scared. My control is excellent and I save my fury for greater challenges than you.”
“There is no greater challenge than me,” she snapped before she could stop herself, but Nik was grinning again.
“True enough, under usual circumstances. However, I’ve a problem more difficult than most. Zak. I’d like you to liaise with him. For me.”
“A go-between for your own-? Ah. He’s not your son anymore. You’re scared if you try to talk with him he’ll go silver-eyed and you might get sliced then diced.”
“No, I can handle him when he’s Beserk. It’s the tea and crumpets afterward that concern me. I’ve set up house on Blizzard and I want him to join us.”
“But you fear he’ll refuse?”
Nikareon’s smile slipped. “If I invite him to Blizzard? Yes.”
“Well, that’s not surprising. Perhaps you should have considered adoption instead of kidnapping.”
Nikareon’s eyes flashed silver again. “I’ll remember that the next time I have to choose between killing a baby and secretly saving it.”
Amber felt her own temper rise, which was unusual after so many millennia, but the Beserk brought out the worst in her. She was on her feet before she could stop herself, though she had to tip her head back to glare at him. “You could have returned him to his parents.”
“Not once I held him I couldn’t.” Nikareon’s eyes shimmered a softer silver and Amber’s anger slipped away. The Beserk was a big softy. A big murderous, psychotically-bad-tempered softy almost twice her size, but still...
“Alright,” she sighed. “I’ll help, but if swords get drawn I’m out of there.”
Nikareon looked grave, before bending in a deep bow, but he was smiling by the time he straightened. “My thanks, Amber. But I can assure you the only sword I’d ever draw near you would be more pleasure than pain.”
Her hair twisted and swirled on her shoulders before she could stop it. “And he’s back. Which is truly a relief. I almost thought you’d learned how to converse. I’ll be tending to my Arck.”
Amber turned with a flip of her hair and a swish of skirts intended to leave an impression. She couldn’t let the Beserk know he’d forced her to retreat. She also couldn’t believe she was fleeing a debate, but Nikareon was arrogant and annoying and unfailingly rude. She felt flustered and was regretting this trip more than ever. Why hadn’t she let Falkyn convince her to stay safe at home?
The answer remained the same as ever. Because she couldn’t afford to lose him. She was still the best healer in space and when he went into danger, so did she – right to the brink of her bitter end on the Devourer’s altar.
Amber settled again, to perch over Falkyn and pretend she was helping him heal.
“Looks like he’s done,” Nikareon observed in her ear and her shoulders hunched.
“Which is why I’m the doctor and you’re the rabid killer.”
He chuckled and his lips brushed her ear. “That’s me. You’d best remember it, Lady. Do you need anything before I retire? Anything…” His voice dropped even lower. “At all.”
“No,” Amber tried to snap, but it came out as more of a gasp. “We’re fine.”
“Well you certainly are.”
Amber’s hair twitched again and she didn’t dare look round at the Beserk right behind her. She could feel his amusement and another emotion. One she didn’t want to sense more deeply. She jumped to her feet and spun, backing away from Nikareon. The room felt strangely stuffy. “Is it hot in here?”
He smiled, but not in a mocking way. He looked almost concerned. “I can change the temp set
ting if you wish.”
“Please.”
Amber stepped further back and started to trip over Falkyn. Nik darted forward to grab her before she could fall on her patient and she let him haul her to safety.
“Thank you,” she muttered, but he didn’t release her. She stood there, feeling more confused than she’d been in millennia. She shivered and he ducked down to look at her more closely.
“Are you well, Lady?”
“Yes,” Amber whispered.
“You’re trembling.”
“It’s cold.”
Nikareon’s smile returned. “You just said it was hot.”
Amber slapped his arms aside and pushed hard against his chest. He stepped back and relief replaced her flash of anger. “Perhaps the temperature is changeable.”
“Like you, Lady.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Nikareon’s smile was dazzling. “It means that you don’t hate me nearly as much as you would like to.”
“I couldn’t hate anyone that much.”
Amber stiffened when the Beserk leaned toward her, but before she could protest a figure floated down the link to land on the nest floor.
Nikareon drew a sharp breath, but Zak ignored him to bow to Amber. “Excuse me, Doctor. I wished to check Fal’s recovery and offer my help. I should have added my healing to yours sooner. I’m sorry to be so slow.”
“No, ah, that’s fine. I mean he’s fine. The Arck. His healing is almost done.”
“I knew it,” Nik muttered, but Zak continued to ignore him.
The younger Flight stepped closer to Amber instead. “Are you okay, Doc? You seem flustered.”
“For the gods’ sake, I’m perfectly-”
A chime sounded from Falkyn’s com before she could finish protesting how calm she was. The Arck’s eyes snapped open and he pushed himself up onto his forearms. “Huh? What?”
Amber moved to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, Sire. It’s just a com link. Someone wants to talk to you.”