Wind Demon Triology: Book II: Evil Wind

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  "Angry at being brought back to this place," Sern told him. "And anxious to leave when we have the ten of you with us."

  "And how are you planning to accomplish that feat, wench?"

  Sern shifted her eyes among the vid-coms until she found the one under which she saw Rylan Cree's name. "You do not need to know the particulars," she told him. “Only that you will not meet the fate reserved for you. You need to be prepared to go with whatever happens."

  Rylan Cree was sitting on his bunk, his hands to either side of him, fingers curled over the edge of the bunk. He was a handsome man—Sern knew he would have to be since he was a bloodson of Kamerone—but he did not have the same imposing authority of his bloodsire.

  "I've not had his challenges or troubles, either," he told Sern, intercepting her wayward thought.

  "Troubles make the man, eh?" Sern questioned.

  "Or breaks him," another voice spoke up and she realized it was another of Kamerone's bloodsons.

  "I doubt anything could break your bloodsire,” Sern said. "Are you Braiden?"

  "Corydon," was the reply.

  "I am Braiden," another said.

  "And I am Kaelan, youngest of the Prime."

  "No longer the youngest," Sern said and put a smile in her voice. "You have a brother named Jaelin on Terra."

  "Did you hear that, Kiel? There is a Reaper even younger than you!" Kaelan shouted so loud every Reaper winced and Sern squeezed her eyes closed at the pain.

  "Curb your enthusiasm for the wench's lies, young Cree," Kullen growled.

  "I've news for you, you arrogant bastard," Sern shouted in her own mind voice. "Cree promised me he would punish you for hurting me and what Cree promises, he delivers! He told me to remind you that you have his scent and his promise to punish your stupidity."

  There were chuckles flitting through Sern's mind along with a vulgarity that made her ears burn. She glanced at Kahmal and found the major frowning at her.

  "I am finished with my interrogation,” Kahmal told the Chief Guard. “You were right. I have learned nothing from these beasts."

  "Tell her Corydon, son of Kamerone, would love to teach her some things that would curl that pretty red hair of hers," Corydon whispered to Sern.

  Sern smiled, switching her gaze to the vid-com where Corydon was grinning broadly. “You are his bloodson, all right," she told him and she saw him wink. Which she glanced at Taegin Kullen's snarling face she almost laughed aloud.

  Once outside the Titaness, Sern could not hold in her mirth and told Kahmal what Corydon Cree had whispered to her.

  Kahmal stopped, looked down at Sern with an eyebrow cocked. “He said that?"

  Sern nodded.

  The Amazeen Major wasn't exactly pleased with the Reaper's words but then neither was she displeased. For the remainder of the day, she would be unable to get those sensuous words out of her mind and the image of Corydon Cree flitted unbidden from time to time.

  The Prime Reaper was not in the cage when the women walked over to Fleet Command headquarters. Relieved to find out Chanz and Aegean had taken Cree to Dr. Kym's office, Kahmal asked Tyrian if she, Deon and Aegean had had any luck in disabling the ships in the docking bays when they took the Alluvia in for refueling that morning.

  Tyrian shook her head. “Their security is very strict. We were watched very closely and weren't allowed off the ship while it was being provisioned. It's already in its docking harness and we were sent back here by shuttle."

  "So much for making sure we aren't followed when we leave,” Kahmal said. A thought struck her like a bolt of lightning. “They are going to allow us back on the ship this evening, aren't they?"

  "They weren't going to but Chanz argued we had nowhere else to sleep with every available room on Rysalia Prime booked for the Feast. They grumbled about it, but we have a shuttle at our disposal,” Tyrian replied.

  "When did Chanz and Aegean take Cree to Kym's?” Kahmal asked.

  "Just a few minutes ago. Dr. Kym's secretary was furious with us that we weren't here when she came looking for us the first time. I explained we were seeing to the ship but that didn't seem to cut any ice with that Chrystallusian dwarf,” Tyrian complained.

  "At least we know our Reaper is in friendly hands,” Kahmal said.

  "What about Ceatie?” Sern asked, concerned with the old weretiger's wellbeing.

  Tyrian's face broke out into a grin. “He was sitting in your chair in front of the computer. I warned the provisionaries not to provoke him and he responded by giving them a nasty snarl. I don't think anyone will try to access our data banks with him guarding the terminal."

  "Good boy, Ceatie,” Sern said and she sensed the weretiger's grunt of acknowledgement.

  "Were you able to communicate with the Reaper cadets, ‘Lia?” Tyrian asked.

  "They know something is being planned and they accept that we are on the up and up. Kullen still has his doubts but whom the hell cares?” Sern replied. “He'll go along with the other cadets."

  "His bloodsire was a brutal man,” Kahmal said, having thoroughly studied the files on the original seven Reapers. She met Sern's eyes. “And Kullen killed several Terran women in his day. Let us hope his bloodson isn't of the same bent."

  "Cree will bring that bastard to his knees for hurting me,” Sern asserted. “This I know!"

  Kahmal smiled. “I've no doubt of that, ‘Lia."

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cree was once more in shackles but the bands were loose on his wrists. He walked between Chanz and Aegean, who kept their hands on his upper arms. As he passed down the corridor of the Fleet Command, women were standing in the doorways, watching him. Not a sound followed in his wake and the few times he looked to his watchers, he did not see the hatred he had expected to see on their faces. The women's silence and their still faces unnerved him more than had they been cursing him or glaring in his direction. None of them ran from him or hid at his approach. They simply watched him as he passed.

  "What is wrong with this picture?” he muttered to himself.

  Shei-Ling, the Auxiliary Prophetess’ secretary met them at the door to her office and bowed slightly. “Her Grace asks that you go right in, milord.” She stepped aside, sweeping her hand toward Kym's inner office.

  LeJong Kym was seated at her desk, her fingers laced upon the uncluttered surface. There was a slight smile on her face. “Come in, Kamerone,” she bid. She turned her dark brown eyes on Chanz. “Remove his fetters, lieutenant. He poses no threat to me.” She looked back at Cree. “Do you, milord Reaper?"

  "No, milady,” Cree agreed. “I do not."

  Chanz let go of Cree's arm and unlocked his shackles, briefly meeting his gaze as she stepped back, saluted, then she and Aegean exited the office behind Shei-Ling, who closed the door firmly behind them.

  "Sit down, please,” Kym said.

  The Prime Reaper took his seat before Kym's desk and made himself comfortable. He had no idea why he'd been summoned but any time spent outside the cage was to be treasured. He massaged his wrists slowly.

  "Let me begin by telling you this office is secure,” Kym told him. “What we say here remains here."

  He nodded, expecting nothing less.

  "You are looking well,” she said. “Perhaps a bit thinner than when I last saw you, but healthy."

  "Had it been left to Sejm, such would not have been the case, I assure you,” he said.

  "Ah, yes, Sejm.” Kym sat back in her chair. “I should be sorry to hear of her passing but I can not seem to dredge forth the necessary regret."

  "She has died?"

  "So the goddess tells me,” Kym replied.

  "I'm sure someone, somewhere will mourn her passing,” Cree said.

  "Would you care to wager on that?” Kym asked, her eyes twinkling.

  "Perhaps Tylan Kahn?” he suggested.

  "Perhaps, but even that is doubtful."

  They were silent for a moment, each looking at the other, speculation sparking in their gaz
es.

  "You weren't happy on Terra, were you, Kamerone?” she finally asked.

  "I was happy being with Bridget,” he replied. “I was happy at the birth of my son."

  "Kamerone might have been happy,” she said, “but the Reaper in you was miserable."

  "You can't separate Kamerone from the Reaper,” he said quietly.

  She smiled. “Don't be so sure."

  He crossed his right leg over his left, bracing his ankle on his knee, curling his fingers over his shin. “Why did you send for me, LeJong?” he asked.

  "For several reasons, actually, but first things first.” She leaned back in her leather chair, swiveling it slightly away from the desk. “I want to assure you when the time comes, you will leave Rysalia Prime—with your bloodkin—in safety, and there will be no retrieval teams sent to bring you back this time."

  "It didn't seem to me the Prophetess-Mother had any intention of allowing that to happen,” he remarked.

  "The Prophetess-Mother is getting on in years and her health is growing worse by the day.” A glint formed in Kym's dark eyes. “History might prove it to be something she ate that was her undoing."

  Cree stared at her for a moment then nodded slowly. “'If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die?'” he quoted.

  "'And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?'” Kym finished the quote from the Terran called Shakespeare.

  "How did she wrong you?” he asked.

  "She tried to kill the man I love,” Kym answered. “She was responsible for lies being told to him, for him being cheated of his rightful reward, and she tried to have him hanged. For that, she has been paying since the day he left Rysalia Prime and eventually she will give her life in exchange for her treachery."

  "Do I know this man, LeJong?” he asked quietly.

  "I would venture to say you see him each time you look into a mirror, Kamerone,” she answered.

  He didn't know what to say to her admission. When he would have spoken, she held up her hand to silence him.

  "It is enough that you know I have deep feelings for you,” she stated. “Let it go at that.” She sat forward in her chair again, braced her elbows on her desk, and threaded her fingers together. “Now, let's get back to business."

  "Do you want to go with us when we leave for Terra?” he asked.

  Kym laughed. “Oh, my, no! My destiny is here as the new Prophetess-Mother when Cyle Acet has shuffled off this mortal coil."

  "But if it is discovered you helped us..."

  She waved a dismissive hand. “Don't worry about me, Kamerone. When all is said and done, there will be no one left to cause me harm. I am quite content to remain on Rysalia Prime and live out my days as a benevolent, fair, and compassionate Prophetess-Mother. Under my guidance, I will see our planet into the glory it deserves, sitting side by side with the other worlds in peace and prosperity."

  "And you plan on having the support you will need?” he asked, his eyes giving evidence of his concern for her.

  "I will,” she assured him. “How many enraged women have you seen casting curses upon you, Reaper?"

  "Only a few."

  "A very few,” she corrected. “And each of them in the employ and under the iron fist of Cyle Acet. The rest of us know well what you sacrificed for us and only one other—like myself—know the price you paid was more than even you could have guessed."

  He frowned. “I don't understand."

  Kym stood up and came around the desk. “Come with me, Kamerone,” she said, reaching her hand out to him.

  Cree got up and clasped her hand in his, surprised at the strength in so small a hand as she gripped him. She led him to a door that sat off to one side of her office. A fingerprint scanner panel lit up as she placed her palm flat against its opaque screen. The door slid open to reveal a long, dark corridor.

  "We had a hell of a time breaking the code to open this door,” Kym told him. “You do know whose office this was before the rebellion?"

  "One of the Chief Justices if memory serves,” he replied.

  "Aye. Your old nemesis Trae Onar,” she supplied the name.

  Cree thought fleetingly of the man who had ordered his torture on several occasions. “I hope the bastard is dead."

  "Oh, he is,” Kym said. “Long before you ever fled Rysalian air space he took his last hateful breath.” She reached inside the corridor and touched a light pad.

  What Cree had perceived at first to be a long, dark corridor was in actuality a narrow room filled on three sides by floor to ceiling shelves. On the shelves was row after row of numbered black metal boxes.

  "The boxes are lead-lined, earthquake-, flood-, and fireproof,” Kym said as she led him into the room. “What we have here is the repository of Rysalian history and top secret files only a very few men were ever privileged to see. Some of these files are ancient and on antiquated memory disks.” She let go of his hand and took down a box from midway the first wall of boxes. She handed it to him and reached for another, stacking it atop the other in his hands. The boxes, though small, were heavy due to the lead lining.

  "How many boxes are there?” he asked.

  "Well over a thousand,” she answered, motioning for him to exit the room.

  Back in her office, Kym closed the door to the secret archive and went back to her chair. She waited until Cree had deposited the boxes on her desk and returned to his seat.

  "When the Daughters took over Fleet Command Headquarters, we were assigned offices as befitted our position within the Multitude. Hael Sejm was given this office and I was given one further down the hall. When Sejm was having her new furniture installed she noticed one of the wall panels did not seem to be flush with the rest of the wall. When she ran her hand over it, she realized it was not stationary. Upon closer inspection, she found the panel could be pushed to one aside—sliding behind the panel next to it—and when she did this, she found the door to the hidden archives."

  "It seems a strange place for such a thing,” Cree observed.

  "Indeed it does, but the contents of the archive were not meant to be found so easily. As I said, it took months for our engineers to find a way to open that door. Now, only I can gain access to it."

  "How many women know of its existence?"

  "Only four of us,” she answered. “Sejm is no longer with us and Acet will join her soon in whatever hell the goddess has prepared for them."

  "Who is the fourth?” he asked. “Is she trustworthy?"

  Kym's face broke into a wide grin. “Do you remember Sister Mary Joseph Kelly?” she asked.

  Cree's forehead crinkled for a moment then the memory of the nun he had abducted from Terra flitted across his mind's eye.

  * * * *

  "I think I'm going to enjoy this,” the old woman had said.

  "I'll do my best to see that you do,” Cree had been shocked to hear himself say.

  "What's your name, lad?” she'd asked, smiling at him.

  "Cree,” he had replied. He surprised himself again when he realized he was smiling back at her.

  "Cree what?"

  "Kamerone Cree,” he told her.

  "That sounds like a good Celtic name,” she had concluded. “I like it.

  He had laughed. “I'll tell my father you approve,” he responded and ignored the stunned looks of his crew. He'd held out his hand. “Now, let's get you settled in the sleep unit."

  * * * *

  "She joined the Multitude?” he asked, surprised the religious would do such a thing.

  "No, but she holds a high position in our new government. She is well respected by Terrans and others alike."

  "I can understand that,” he said. “I liked her."

  "And she has great fondness for what she calls her Celtic warrior,” Kym told him.

  "Bridget would be happy to know the nun is well.” He glanced at the boxes. “Does the good Sister know what those boxes contain?"

  "She does. Sejm and Ac
et could not have cared less about Rysalian history,” Kym said. “Once I read a few of the archives, I saw no reason to share the knowledge with either Sejm or Acet."

  Cree felt a cold finger scraping down his spine. “I take it what is in the boxes pertain to me."

  "To you,” she stated. “To all Reapers, including the cadets imprisoned here as well as those who were executed right after the rebellion.” She reached across the desk toward him and when he took her hand, she squeezed his fingers. “I tried to talk sense into Acet and Sejm, but they insisted on executing your bloodkin. The fever pitch was high on Rysalia Prime and the women were celebrating their freedom from the Empire. Sanity would not return to the Daughters for several weeks. If I could have saved your kin, please know that I would have. Sejm was furious the virus had no effect on the cadets."

  "I bear you no blame for what happened to my kin,” he said. “I do not agree with the course the rebellion took, but I can understand the anger felt by the women."

  "An anger they have begun to bitterly regret,” Kym said. “There are less than two dozen men on Rysalia Prime—including you and the cadets—and over twenty thousand women in the city alone. That doesn't take into consideration those women housed on the abandoned space stations or on the satellite moons. They are beginning to realize what a lonely point in space this has become.” She shrugged. “They now know how the Rysalian males felt when all their women died when the retrovirus was inadvertently released."

  "So what do you do now?” he asked as she released his hand and sat back in her chair.

  Kym shrugged. “We do what the Empire did except this time around it will be men brought to Rysalia Prime instead of women and the men will be asked, not abducted. We are in contact with Storia which has an overabundance of men to women as well as do the Amhantareans. They both seem a hardy bunch."

  "And if they don't want to come here? What then?"

  A long sigh undulated from the Chrystallusian woman's lips. “Then I suppose we will have to rethink the abducting part."

  "And become like the Amazeen,” he said.

  "I don't believe it will come to that but we won't know until we try. Never again will we women allow this world to become a male-dominated place of slavery and despair."