Dare winced visibly before the fierce anger of this child. Even the council shifted uncomfortably.
“I’m not even certain what it is,” Rina said. “I only know that when Dax gave it to me, he said that there are some things too sacred to be used for the paying of debts, especially debts that are beyond repaying.”
She reached into the loose shirt she wore. When she pulled out a large circle of hammered metal, an odd color between silver and gold, every member of the council gasped. Dare stared, clearly stunned.
“I see that it is as important to you as he thought,” Rina said. “Yet he would not use it to bargain with, even for his life. Or to save himself from that.” She gestured at the glowing tool that would sear the mark of an exile into Dax’s flesh. Then she backed up a step. “Well, I will. If you want this, you will have to—”
“Rina, no.”
It was Dax, his voice short and sharp with command. Rina looked back at him.
“But—”
“No, Rina. It is the Royal Circlet of the King of Trios. It is his by right.”
“If it is so valuable to him, then he can—”
“No.” Dax swallowed visibly. “Please.”
For a long moment Rina just stared at him. Whatever she saw in his eyes filled her own with tears. Her bravado vanished, and the hands that held the circlet trembled. Dax nodded slightly, toward Dare. With a strangled cry, Rina turned and handed the crown back to the king.
Dax slumped in his chair, letting out a long breath. Rina looked around a little wildly, her gaze stopping on Califa. Wordlessly, driven by an emotion she didn’t even understand, Califa held out her arms. The girl ran to her, sobbing as she threw her arms around her.
There was a long moment of silence as Dare sat motionless, staring at the circlet in his hands. It was Glendar who spoke at last, gently, unexpectedly to Califa.
“You have time for a few more words. Have you anything to say on your own behalf?”
Califa gave a final hug to Rina, then straightened. She walked over to stand where Rina had stood; she could do no less than match the girl’s bravery. She looked at Dare, who still held the royal symbol returned to him by the man they were about to irrevocably punish.
“Only this,” she said, her voice none too steady. “I do not wish to die. But I am not sure anything less can atone for what your king knows I have done.”
The guards around Dax and the crew tensed when she reached into her pocket, but again Dare waved them back. Shaylah gasped, and Dare sucked in his breath when she drew out the control unit. She heard a commotion, and sensed Dax had tried to rise.
“No, snowfox! Don’t.”
She didn’t turn. She didn’t dare look at Dax, or she would weaken. With a hand she couldn’t keep from shaking, she handed the king of Trios, who knew all too well exactly what she was giving him, the controller that said he now owned her as she had once owned him.
Chapter 28
DARE SAT STARING at the power unit as Califa walked silently back to stand beside Dax. She let one hand rest on his shoulder. Rina followed her and stood on his other side, her hand doing the same. Califa felt Dax shudder, heard his harsh, gulping breaths, and knew the man who never cried was fighting breaking down before them all.
Next to Rina stood Roxton. The rest of the crew gathered close. Renclan, looking clearly uneasy at what had obviously been his part in helping Fleuren and Rina arrange the crew’s arrival through the shield, picked up his grandmother at her order, and they stepped forward to join the group around Dax. As did all the Triotians he had rescued, except for the man too injured to move. But even he had sent a representative; his bonded mate, who had long thought him dead, was there to stand with the others.
Dare’s hand clenched around the controller, and Califa knew he was remembering. It was asking too much, she thought, for him to forgive. But she prayed he would accept her offer of herself in Dax’s place, and not send Dax out to finish the job of killing himself.
Shaylah sat silently, her gaze flicking from her mate to Califa, Dax, and the others, then back. She’d seen that look before, Califa thought suddenly. Back when they’d been in the academy together, and were planning some kind of mischief.
A long moment of silence stretched out as Glendar returned to his seat. Before he could call the council to order to vote, Shaylah pushed back her chair and stood up. Dare looked up at her, as did the others at the table.
“I beg your forgiveness, Glendar,” she said. Even apologizing, she sounds royal, Califa thought. Shaylah had truly found her place. “I find myself in difficulty here,” Shaylah continued. “Not so very long ago, I was a stranger among you, without friends and mistrusted. Yet you all finally came to accept that I was not the enemy I had once been, and that my love for your rightful king was true. You have accepted me as your queen, and for that I am more grateful than I can say. But now we are faced with a woman in the same predicament. A woman I believe has changed as I have changed. A woman who is my friend. I find I cannot give a fair vote in this. I therefore must withdraw.”
Califa’s breath caught, then stopped altogether as Shaylah left the table and walked across the room toward her. She came to a halt before Califa, laid a gentle hand on her arm, then turned to face the council. And Dare.
Dare was watching her with a steady, unwavering gaze. The surprise that had initially shown on his face gave way to a love and pride that fairly radiated from him. Slowly, he got to his feet.
“My queen shames me,” he said softly, yet in a voice that would carry to the farthest reaches of the room. “She who is not of this world has reminded me, and not for the first time, of why it came to be.” He glanced at the council. “I, too, must remove myself from this vote. I cannot make an objective decision about my oldest and dearest friend.”
Dare crossed the room with long, regal strides, spared a glance and a wink for Rina, then took a position behind Dax. The significance of that position was not lost on the crowd, and the murmur that had started when Shaylah had moved, suddenly swelled to a roar of approval.
The council, all except Glendar, looked at a loss; the old man was grinning widely. Then, with difficulty, he quieted the room.
“No vote, indeed,” he said, but he was still smiling as he looked from Dare to Shaylah. Then, clearing his throat, he addressed the council. “I believe we have heard enough.”
“Yes, but I am concerned,” the youngest man said, as if loathe to surrender his time in the spotlight. He glanced at Califa. “We were certain of our queen’s devotion to Trios because of her love for the king. How will we assure that this woman does not betray us in some way?”
“By seeing past the end of your nose, you young fool,” Fleuren called, giving rise to a raucous round of laughter and the young man’s blush. “Can you not see she loves Dax?”
Califa blushed furiously, Shaylah rolled her eyes, and Dare smothered a laugh. Dax had gone very still, staring once more at that fascinating spot on the floor.
“Is this true?” the young man asked, his eyes wide.
“Yes,” Glendar asked, his laughter ill-concealed, “is it? Tell me, Dax Silverbrake, if the council votes to grant you both absolution, will you bond with this woman to assure her loyalty?”
Dax’s head came up. He stared at Glendar, who unconcernedly grinned back at him. After a long, silent moment, Dax said lowly, “If that is the council’s requirement.”
“Requirement?”
Califa’s exclamation was outraged as anger bubbled up inside her. Until this moment, she hadn’t fully admitted to herself that what Shaylah had so easily guessed was true; she loved this man, and she wanted with him what Shaylah had with Dare. And to have him treat it as if it were no more than a way to get the council’s vote to go in their favor infuriated her.
“I’ll have no man who is required to bond
with me!”
Dax drew back a little in his chair, staring at her. “You said you thought bonding was a myth,” he said slowly. “That only fools and Triotians believe in it.”
“That was aeons ago,” she snapped. “Do you think I’ve learned nothing since then? You are an idiot, Dax whatever-your-name-is.”
“Silverbrake,” he said, slowly standing up, as if only on his feet could he reclaim the name he’d been ashamed to use for so long. “It is a good name.”
She was still seething, as much from her own embarrassment at having Fleuren declare her feelings to the world when she hadn’t even admitted them to herself as from his offhanded attitude. “It’s no concern of mine whether it is or not.”
“It could be,” he said, looking at her intently.
“And why in Hades should it?”
“If what Fleuren says is true.”
Califa bit her lip until it bled, trying to hold back tears of embarrassment. “I swear to your God, you are a fool. Do you think I give a damn about a skypirate who spends more time trying to get himself k-killed . . .”
“You would be the fool if you did,” Dax said softly. “But why else did you offer to sacrifice yourself for him? Why did you give up your chance to defend yourself for him?”
“B-because I . . .” she started, then had to stop to clamp down harder on her lip before she humiliated herself before them all.
“Shall I tell you why?” Dax said, softer still. “Because you’re the bravest woman I’ve ever known. Because you had the heart to change your mind, your very soul, when you saw the truth. Because you have more courage than I’ve ever thought of having.”
“I don’t,” she said in a small voice. “You do.”
“If I had such courage,” he said wryly, “you would have known the truth before now.”
She frowned slightly. “The truth?”
He took in a deep breath. “That I love you.”
Califa gaped at him, stunned. “You . . . do?”
“I have, for some time. Perhaps from that first moment. But I didn’t feel I deserved such . . .”
His voice trailed off, and Califa saw, incredibly, a touch of color tinge his cheeks. And suddenly she knew what he was thinking of, of those moments last night when her love and the joy of being home had shattered the barriers his body had raised, and he had at long last been able to give himself to her fully.
“Oh,” she said, color tinting her own cheeks.
Dax’s mouth twisted. “I was kind of hoping for something similar, snowfox.”
“What? Oh!” she exclaimed, heat flooding her cheeks now.
When she didn’t go on, Dax reached out and took her hands. “Are you going to leave me out here all alone?”
His rueful words came at the same time as a healthy nudge from Shaylah. Suddenly feeling more shy than she ever had in her life, she lowered her gaze. “I . . . love you, too.”
The cheer that went up around them brought home with embarrassing force the fact that they had done this in front of a room packed with people. Califa buried her face against Dax’s chest, and he ducked his head as if he were as abashed as she was.
It was Dare who spoke first, as the cheers finally died away. He wiped at his eyes, damp from his own laughter, then looked across at Shaylah.
“Remind you of anything, my love?”
She smiled at him sunnily. “I do seem to recall another couple who became betrothed in this very room, in front of a mob of many of these very same people.”
The chamber erupted into laughter again. Glendar turned to the council, who waved him off.
“Really, Glendar,” the woman who had spoken before said, “do you really think it necessary to vote? Our time would be better spent preparing for a bonding ceremony!”
Epilogue
“—like nothing I’ve ever flown before!”
“It’s your design; you should have known.”
Califa glanced at Shaylah and smiled. Their mates were coming this way, after Dare’s latest flight in the fighter Dax had built, sounding like a couple of kids after their first spin in an air rover.
“But you added the adjustable wings,” Dare was saying as they came in.
“I needed them, for different conditions. Omegan space, for instance, where the air is so dense—”
Dax stopped when he realized both women were watching them with that indulgent look women get when their men are acting more like boys.
“Well, whatever the reason,” Dare said, “it handles even better than I’d hoped.”
“Good. It’s yours.”
“What?”
“You heard me. I’ll borrow it back if I need it.”
“Dax, you can’t. You’ve given us more than enough. Yourself, returned to us, Shaylah’s friend returned to her, six of our own home safe . . . and we never expected to see the Royal Circlet again—”
“Don’t argue. I’ll win.”
“I know.” Dare scowled at him. “Your years as a skypirate have had some effects I could do without. If you can’t win openly, you resort to trickery.”
“I always did that. You just never caught on. You’ve always been too honorable, Dare.”
Califa felt an amazing warmth expanding inside her as she listened to them joke. It had taken time to get to this stage, but the bond between them was stronger than ever.
They had had much to work out, and not all on Dax’s part. Dare had, with great difficulty, finally told Dax about his sister Brielle’s death during the Coalition’s invasion. Dax had been shaken by the knowledge that she had died by Dare’s own hand, but he had known his sister well, and later had told Califa he could envision her pleading with Dare to kill her before the Coalition took her alive.
“She knew if he survived, he would be so haunted by what they would do to her that he would be no good to Trios or her people.”
“She must have been an incredible woman,” Califa had said, more than a little awed. But no more incredible than Shaylah, Califa had thought, who took the news that Dax was the brother of Dare’s dead mate with an equanimity and gracious sympathy that made her seem more royal than ever.
Califa had grown closer to Shaylah than she had ever felt to anyone, except Rina. The little pixie had come to live with them soon after the bonding ceremony, and while it was taking a while for the girl to adjust to the great changes in her life, she loved Dax unwaveringly, and had included Califa in that love without question now that she was certain Califa loved him as strongly as she did.
And Califa and Dare had reached a harmony of a sort, if not true friendship yet. He had spoken to her alone, the evening before the bonding ceremony between her and Dax.
“If I can believe that Shaylah changed so much,” he had told her, “then I must believe it is possible that you have as well. It will not be easy, but you have my word I will try to forget what is past between us.”
“I can ask for no more,” Califa had said. “And I am not sure I could be so generous, were our positions reversed.”
He had looked at her for a long moment. “I think perhaps you might surprise yourself, Califa Claxton. You have great courage. No other woman save Shaylah—and Rina—has ever faced me so fearlessly. And I have found it sometimes takes more courage to forgive than to exact revenge.”
“The people of this world are most fortunate in their king, Darian of Trios,” she had said, and had meant every word of it. And when she had discovered that Dare’s bonding gift to them was the arrival of the laser surgeon to remove her collar, she had wept.
Tonight, as they sat down to an evening meal, she looked at Dare anew, seeing how he watched the very pregnant Shaylah as they spoke of their soon to be born son. There was regret, but no anger in Dare’s voice as he explained the child would not be named Galen, after D
are’s father, because of a Triotian tradition that said a dead king’s name could not be used for three generations. Despite his words, in that moment Dare appeared to be not a king, but simply a man deeply in love with his mate.
That was how Dax looked at her, now. It had taken a while for him to accept that his people truly held him blameless for escaping the fate of so many, that they in fact held him as a sort of hero for all he’d done to damage the Coalition, saw him as a lone warrior rather than a skypirate. Only when he had been able to believe in their welcome, only when he was certain he was home at last, had he been truly healed. And only then, a whole man once more, had he been able to fully embrace the joy they’d found together. She knew the extent of his healing when a small, exquisite, white marble carving of a snowfox appeared on the table beside their bed. The same one she’d seen in the exhibit on Alpha 2.
He told her he’d offered to return it to the sole surviving member of the family it had been stolen from, but the woman had refused, saying he had a greater right to it than she. Califa had wondered why, and her curiosity must have shown, because Dax had silently picked up the sculpture and turned it over. Califa’s breath caught when she saw the ornate S etched on the base, the symbol she had learned stood for the illustrious Silverbrake family.
“Brielle,” Dax said quietly. “She loved the animals of Trios. They were her favorite subject.”
She ached for the pain in his voice, and for so much that had been lost here. And when Dax had turned to her in the darkness, when he had asked her to sing for him, something gentle and fragile, as Brielle had been, Califa felt she had been given the greatest of honors. So she had sung, softly, most of her pleasure in the music coming from the memories of the more and more frequent occasions when Dax would join her on the dulcetpipe, sometimes even in front of the king and queen, that “minuscule” talent he’d spoken of showing its true depth.
Shaylah’s sudden, sharp exclamation jerked Califa out of her musings. Dare dropped his cup, and it shattered on the table as his head snapped around to his mate.
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