Twilight Crossing

by Susan Krinard

  With a sense of dread, Jamie waited at the side of the tent, listening to anxious voices, catching partial sentences and piecing together the subject.

  “Dead,” Cho said. “...found the body.”

  “Who?”

  “...know... Nereus...Tenebris.”

  A body. Nereus. Tenebris. Had Nereus killed someone, when she and Timon might have stopped it?

  Without considering the consequences, Jamie caught Cho’s horse and mounted hastily. She rode onto the central thoroughfare toward the Hub, keeping her eyes and ears open. Humans and Opiri were walking or jogging in the same direction.

  She followed the tide of the crowd to the western boundary of the tent city, not far from the place where Nereus had attacked her. She used her mount to push her way through the observers who had already gathered around something on the ground.

  A body. It lay on its back, mouth agape, face so horribly sunken that Jamie could barely recognize it. There were no marks of any kind on the body, no blood, no apparent broken bones.

  Nereus. She released her breath, relieved that he hadn’t found another victim. But why was the Opir out here, and how had he died?

  She dismounted and led the horse to one of the cottonwoods, loosely tying him to a convenient shrub. The rumble of hooves marked the arrival of the Riders, ten in all, who scattered the crowd as they approached the body.

  One of them was Timon. He leaped from Lazarus’s back and knelt beside the dead Opir.

  “Did you know him?” his captain said, dropping down next to him.

  Jamie saw Timon hesitate, his expression impossible to read. “We met,” he said.

  “There’s clearly something wrong with this Opir,” Cassius said. He looked up suddenly, and his eyes unerringly met Jamie’s. “The Tenebrians are on their way. If you have anything to report, Timon...”

  “I saw him,” an Opir said, stepping out from the crowd. He pointed at Timon. “I saw this Rider arguing with the dead man. Maybe he killed him.”

  Chapter 22

  The accusation of murder silenced the crowd instantly. Jamie left the illusory protection of the trees and started unthinkingly toward Timon, a protest already on her lips.

  Timon rose and stared toward the Opir who had made the claim. Jamie didn’t recognize him; he wasn’t from Tenebris, and she’d never seen him during the assemblies. She could tell from Timon’s expression that he’d never seen the Opir, either.

  “Who is speaking?” Cassius asked, getting to his feet.

  “The Rider threatened him,” the Opir said, lowering his head so that his hood hid his face. “They were ready to fight.”

  “Step forward,” Timon said, his fists clenched. “Show yourself.”

  But all at once the crowd shifted, and the Opir was swallowed up again. Riders dismounted to search for him, but they returned empty-handed.

  “He’s disappeared,” one of the Riders said.

  “He was lying,” Timon said. “I had nothing to do with this Opir’s death.”

  “Did you argue with him?” Cassius said, stone-faced.

  “Because of me,” Jamie said, stepping forward. She met Cassius’s unfriendly stare. “I am Jamie McCullough, of the San Francisco delegation. This Opir, Nereus, attacked me without provocation two weeks ago. Timon stopped him but didn’t harm him.”

  The buzz of the crowd started up again. Cassius turned his gaze on Timon.

  “You had an altercation with this Opir and did not report it?” he asked.

  “It’s my fault,” Jamie said. “Nereus was obviously sick, physically and mentally. I suggested we take Nereus back to his own people.”

  “So you let an aggressor attack one of our human delegates without informing me?” Cassius asked Timon.

  Timon lifted his head. “I did,” he admitted. “The lady declined to press charges. The Tenebrians agreed to keep him confined.”

  “Clearly they did not,” Cassius said. He turned to Jamie again. “It was not your decision to decide the fate of one who attacked you, miss.”

  “She was the victim,” Timon said, his voice rough.

  “And yet you said that this Opir was sick. The highly unusual circumstances should have been enough to merit a report.” He glanced down at the body. “And now a man is dead.”

  “I did fight him,” Timon said, “but he was alive when I left him with the Tenebrians.”

  “I’m sure they’ll confirm it when they arrive,” Cassius said. He called to several of his other Riders, and they moved about to dispel the crowd. Reluctantly, the observers drifted away.

  “I can also confirm it,” Jamie said.

  Cassius’s expression remained anything but friendly. “You didn’t see the dead man again after this incident with Ms. McCullough?” he asked Timon. “Perhaps out of concern for her safety?”

  “No,” Timon said.

  Jamie wondered if he was lying. It wasn’t impossible that Nereus had escaped confinement, and that Timon had run across him.

  But he wouldn’t have killed Nereus. Or try to hide the fact.

  “I think it would be wise to temporarily relieve you of duty,” Cassius said. “We’ll speak more of this at headquarters.”

  Timon seemed to freeze. He looked at Jamie again, and she saw a flare of something like panic in his eyes. Not fear that he would be blamed for Nereus’s death, she thought, but that he would be barred from doing his work with the Riders.

  He broke away from Cassius and strode toward Jamie. As he got closer, she could see that he, too, had hollows under his eyes and cheekbones, and that his eyes seemed to burn with a strange light. They softened as they met hers.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Jamie wet her lips. “Yes,” she said. “I heard about Nereus in camp, and I came... I was worried that—”

  “You thought I was involved?”

  “I didn’t know what to think.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with it, Jamie.”

  “I believe you. I’ll testify to everything that happened. This is all my fault.”

  “No.” He raised his hand as if to touch her, and then lowered it again. “Cassius has reasons to doubt me, which is why he’s suspended me from duty.”

  “Why should he doubt you?” she asked. “Because you didn’t make the report?”

  Timon looked away. “It isn’t that simple. But I won’t be able to speak to you for a while.”

  “It’s already been two weeks, Timon,” she said, keeping her voice level.

  “I know.” He made a helpless gesture with one hand. “There’s a reason, Jamie—”

  “Greg made it very plain.”

  He winced. “I wish I had a way to—”

  “Timon,” Cassius said, striding up behind him. “It is time to go.”

  “What about the body?” Jamie asked.

  Cassius regarded her as if he had totally dismissed her from his mind. “It will be taken to our headquarters to be examined by the medics.”

  “How many actual Opir medics do you have?”

  “If we require your help, we will ask for it,” Cassius said.

  “Cassius,” Timon said, a low growl in his voice.

  “Hold yourself ready to give testimony, Ms. McCullough,” Cassius said, gripping Timon’s arm. Timon shook himself free and faced Jamie.

  “Be careful,” he said. “Stay in your camp.”

  Then he was walking away with Cassius, and Jamie was left to wonder why Cassius was so hostile to her and so skeptical about a Rider who was unquestionably loyal to him. Surely he couldn’t believe that Timon could have done it.

  Something was very wrong here, Jamie thought. And she wasn’t going to stand idly by and let Timon get blamed for whatever was going on.
<
br />   * * *

  It was no easy matter to get Nereus’s body.

  Entering the Riders’ headquarters the next morning wasn’t a problem. There were dozens of humans and a few Opiri with complaints for Conclave Security, each waiting their turn for an interview with Riders manning several desks in the large tent.

  When an Opir left his hooded cloak behind on the chair where he’d been waiting, she picked it up, hurried out of the tent, pulled it on and found a place in the shadows to hide. Such a disguise would hardly fool a real Opir, who could smell the human in her, but it might allow her to get a little closer to the back of the tent, where the body was probably being held for examination.

  She hadn’t gone more than halfway to the rear of the tent when a hooded Opir gripped her elbow firmly.

  “Let go of me,” she said softly.

  “I’m here to help,” the Opir said. He tilted up his head just enough for her to see his face under the hood. “Do you remember me?”

  “Orpheus,” she said, recognizing one of the Riders who had escorted the San Francisco delegation.

  “Yes. Timon asked me to look after you while he’s confined.”

  “Is he in jail?” she asked, meeting Orpheus’s shadowed eyes. “Have they—”

  “Cassius is behaving strangely,” Orpheus said, “but that’s not your worry. What are you doing out here?”

  Jamie hesitated, wondering how much she dared tell Orpheus. “Are you truly Timon’s friend?” she asked.

  “If I weren’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “Then listen to me. I need to see the body. Timon’s been accused of harming Nereus, but I think there’s something else going on. Someone is out to blame him for something he didn’t do.”

  “It sounds as if you’re talking about a conspiracy. Why would anyone want to get him into trouble?”

  “I know how it sounds. But obviously Cassius is taking it seriously.”

  Orpheus’s head dipped. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

  “Get me to wherever they’re keeping Nereus’s body, and buy me a few minutes to examine it.”

  “We’ll both be in trouble if we’re caught.”

  “I only ask this for Timon’s sake.”

  Orpheus sighed. “All right. Come with me.”

  He led her around to the back of the tent, where there was a smaller rear entrance. It was unguarded. Orpheus continued to guide her through the door flap and into a darkened area divided with sheets of canvas into rooms and short corridors.

  “There shouldn’t be anyone back here now,” Orpheus whispered. “This way.”

  The area they sought was another canvas-walled room, empty except for a flat board on which Nereus’s body lay. It was already beginning to show signs of decomposition, and Jamie couldn’t imagine they’d leave the corpse here much longer. She had to work quickly.

  Pulling out her notebook and a pencil, she moved around the body, examining it from all angles, lifting the limbs and examining the skull and neck with particular care.

  “Anything?” Orpheus said, staring toward the opening that served as the room’s sole doorway.

  “He wasn’t physically hurt,” she said. “No broken bones, no lacerations or bruises. I can’t find a single mark on him.”

  “Then Timon couldn’t have hurt him,” Orpheus said.

  “But something did. Nereus was very ill.” She began to feel for his internal organs, remembering the many things her father had taught her.

  “Some of his organs seem to have shrunk,” she said, “and his legs are swollen with edema. His muscle is badly wasted, and there’s barely an ounce of fat on his body.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s difficult to tell without an actual autopsy, but some of these symptoms suggest starvation. And given the way he looked even before he died...” She set down her notebook and reached into her pocket for the capped syringe. “I’m going to take a blood sample and see if I can analyze it at the human med clinic.”

  “You think there’s something wrong with his blood?” Orpheus asked.

  “I know what Opir blood is supposed to look like, and examining it may give me a clue.”

  “Take your sample quickly,” Orpheus said. “I think someone’s coming.”

  Jamie worked carefully but swiftly, drawing the blood and recapping the syringe. It would have to be refrigerated, but the human medical clinic had solar-powered units that could keep it at the right temperature until she could get it under a microscope.

  “We have to go,” Orpheus said. He took her arm again and half carried her out of the tent and some distance away from the Security headquarters, putting her down only when he seemed certain that no one had seen them leave the tent.

  “Where now?” he asked.

  “I can get there myself.”

  “I told Timon I’d watch you.”

  “Then follow me.”

  This time, she led Orpheus across camp to the human clinic on the border of the precinct.

  “You’ll have to stay outside,” she said. “I’m a certified medic, and no one is likely to question me.”

  “How long?” Orpheus said.

  “I don’t know. Don’t shirk your duty because of me. I can take care of myself.”

  “Unless you meet another Nereus.”

  “It’s broad daylight. Worry about Timon, not me.”

  She entered the tent with a confident step, as if she belonged there. Both Akesha and Don were on duty and greeted her with mild surprise; she made up a plausible story about the blood sample, claiming it was human, and found an open station in the area reserved for medical equipment.

  There was a chance she might learn something through a complete blood count and chemistry panel. She ran the necessary tests and waited for the results.

  What she saw was far from normal. The hemoglobin count was dangerously low, indicating severe anemia. The chem panels showed an enormous reduction in certain enzymes essential for the digestion of blood.

  No wonder Nereus had looked as he had. It was a miracle he’d been able to function at all.

  Nereus had indeed starved to death.

  Chapter 23

  Meet me by the river.

  There was no signature on the note, but Timon knew who had written it. Not only by the message itself, but by the subtle scent rubbed into the paper by tidy fingers, the neat way it had been folded, the precision of the handwriting.

  Orpheus had carried the note to him earlier that day, and from that moment on Timon could think of nothing but Jamie. He’d been thinking of her since he’d been relieved of his duty, hoping she was safe, that she wouldn’t do anything foolish.

  She’d believed him when he’d said he hadn’t hurt Nereus; she’d been prepared to testify, though as far as Timon knew she’d never been called in for further questioning.

  But he couldn’t forget their last conversation. She’d reminded him that they hadn’t spoken in two weeks, and he’d heard the subtle pain in her voice; pain and anger he hadn’t known how to assuage. He’d spoken of reasons, but how could he deny what he’d told Cahill? How could he explain that his absence was all for her sake?

  Because it wasn’t, he thought as he made his way through the encampment toward the river. Oh, he’d convinced himself that she’d only be hurt if he continued to see her...because he couldn’t return her feelings, because being near her would only reveal to her that he was in desperate need of her blood, and no other’s.

  He’d been able to observe Jamie from a distance for those previous two weeks; at least he’d known she was all right, even when his heart beat fast with jealousy when he thought of her with Cahill, hearing her former fiancé tell her of Timon’s rejection.

  But his brief confinement h
ad separated him from her in a way beyond his control, prevented him from protecting her, forced him to wonder what she was doing, and with whom. Those thoughts had been far worse than the mere fact that he’d been held in detention because Cassius was actually willing to believe he’d kill a delegate.

  That made no sense. Neither did his shifting feelings about Jamie, or why he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off her when they met again.

  As they were about to meet now.

  She was standing beneath one of the tall trees, her back to the trunk, her gaze fixed on something in the distance that Timon couldn’t see.

  He approached cautiously, half-afraid that he’d startle her. She turned to look at him before she could have heard his silent footsteps, almost as if she felt his presence.

  Their eyes met. She smiled. “Timon,” she said, walking toward him with one hand outstretched. “Thank God they let you go.”

  Her hand shook a little when he took it. It was so delicate in his grip, yet firm enough to remind him of her strength and stubbornness. He could smell her blood, but he refused to let it influence him in any way. He still had no intention of telling her about the blood-bond...nothing to make her feel obligated to the man who had seemingly abandoned her.

  “They cleared you?” she asked, letting her hand fall.

  “They examined the body,” he said. “They found no evidence of physical attack.”

  “They never called me in,” she said.

  “The Opir scientists were satisfied with whatever they learned,” he said.

  “And why was Cassius so quick to believe you had something to do with Nereus’s death, when he had no evidence beyond that one man’s accusations? Did they talk to the supposed witness?”

  “They never found him,” Timon said. She had no idea how out of character Cassius’s actions had been, or how deeply they had affected Timon. His own captain, his mentor, believing the worst of him so easily...

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She looked around them. “But there are things I need to tell you about Nereus.”