by Jaine Fenn
Before he could say anything, a voice came over the com still hanging from his ear. ‘Abort, abort: cleansing imminent. Repeat, cleansing imminent.’
‘Shit,’ said Jarek, ‘I think they just called in the air support.’
‘Who are they?’ asked the boy.
‘No idea. People who don’t like leaving loose ends, I’d guess. We need to get out of here.’ He looked at the door. ‘Do you reckon you could hold your breath long enough to get out through the house?’
Nual shook her head. ‘The gas has filled the entire ground floor.’
‘It’s fierce stuff,’ agreed the boy.
‘Then we’ll have to climb down the way I came up.’ Assuming they had time. Assuming the vine would hold them.
‘No,’ said Nual, ‘they might see us running away. We need them to believe we’re dead.’
She swung the gun off her shoulder and pointed it at the fence on the seaward side of the terrace, then traced a broad arc through the air with the tip of the weapon.
A section of fence about three meters long collapsed. Jarek heard the crash and tinkle of breaking glass as the handrail fell through the conservatory roof. ‘What’re you doing?’ he yelled.
‘Making an exit.’
‘We’ll land in the conservatory - that’s just as big a drop as jumping off the side, with added furniture and broken glass.’
‘Which is why we need to get a good run-up.’ She slid the gun back onto her shoulder and took a step back.
‘No, Nual, wait,’ said Jarek. ‘Even if we jump out far enough to miss the conservatory - and I don’t think we can - it’s only a few metres to the edge of the cliff. If we cock up the landing, that’s sixty metres down to a rock shelf. You might want them to believe we’re dead, but if we go with your plan then we will be!’ Over the hysteria in his voice he thought he heard a distant whine, the sound of an approaching engine.
‘We will be fine. I need you to grasp your elbows. Like this—’ She demonstrated, looking for all the world as though she was about to perform some sort of ethnic dance, arms clasped in front of her.
‘Nual, I have no idea what you think you’re—’
< Trust me!>
And he did. Without thinking he stepped back and made a tight circle of his arms. Somewhere in the depths of his head he was furious - Nual had once promised never to steal his will - and terrified - because they were about to jump off a cliff, for fuck’s sake - but his body appeared to be going along with this crazy plan without any input from his brain.
Nual linked arms with him on one side; the boy moved to the other side and did the same.
The aircar engines were louder now. Jarek wondered, in a vague, disinterested way, whether he’d be killed by the fall or by the explosion.
Then they were running towards the edge.
CHAPTER THREE
It would have been nice, thought Taro as he watched Nual trash the fence so they could jump off the roof, if she’d maybe mentioned that Elarn had a brother. Except she obviously hadn’t expected him to turn up at the house. And this Jarek cove didn’t know his sister was dead, not given how careful they’d been about who they’d told.
Worry about that later. Now: survival.
Following Nual’s wordless direction he linked arms with Jarek. He began to run, moving in perfect step with Nual, while Jarek stumbled between them.
As he kicked off the edge Taro felt gravity pulling Jarek down, trying to tear him free. The effort of holding onto him tugged at Taro’s shoulder, and for a moment he considered letting go. Why were they saving this cove anyway? Because he might be an ally, and they needed all the allies they could get. Taro tightened his grip, ignoring the other man’s amazed gasp, and the three of them flew above the shattered glass roof of Elarn’s conservatory, barely losing any height.
Then they were over the cliff, and a lifetime’s terror of falling kicked Taro in the guts for a brief moment, before the fear receded. It was as though the emotion belonged to someone else. He’d felt the same during the attack, when he’d watched impassively as Nual shot one of the intruders, then ambushed and skewered the gang-leader inside the house. As they began to drift down in front of the cliff-face, Taro wondered if being so chill when your arse was on the line was another part of the package, along with the blades, and the implants that stopped his body breaking under normal gravity - and allowed him and Nual to fly, not fall, if they happened to jump off a cliff.
Light erupted above them with a loud bang. Taro looked up to see red-lit smoke billowing over the edge of the cliff and he dropped his head quickly as debris rained down on them. Jarek had gone rigid in their grasp and Taro could hear his harsh, rapid breaths even over the aftermath of the explosion and the pounding of the water below them.
After a moment’s disorientation, Taro thought back
Though Nual wasn’t turning on the compulsion, Taro knew better than to argue.
The whoosh of the sea grew to a roar. Taro had looked over the cliff when they’d first arrived and he hadn’t seen anywhere safe to land, just dark waves smashing into the rock, throwing up plumes of white. Jarek had mentioned something about a shelf, though it was dark now and even Taro’s excellent night-vision couldn’t make out much more than white froth below. He soon saw that the foam wasn’t directly below them, and as they sank lower, he was able to separate the sound of the sea from the noise reflecting off the cliff. It looked like there was ten metres or so of dry land to play with.
When they touched down and his boot landed in a pool of chilly water, he decided that ‘dry’ might have been a bit of an exaggeration. He let go of Jarek and stepped onto a drier spot. Nual pulled her cloak tight around herself, instantly disappearing into the darkness.
Jarek, raising his voice to be heard above the sea, called out to her uncertainly, ‘What are you doing?’
A moment later Taro sensed Nual springing back into the air. ‘She’s going to see who the men who attacked us were,’ he told the stranger.
For the first time, Jarek looked at him. ‘I still don’t know who you are.’
‘Taro sanMalia,’ he said.
Jarek continued to stare at him, and, as the adrenalin began to fade, Taro felt exposed in a way that went beyond being outside in the cold and dark. Finally Jarek said, ‘And what are you doing here?’
Taro’s first instinct was to say he was with Nual, but she was gone for now, and if this was Elarn’s brother, he needed to know the truth. ‘We’re here because of your sister,’ he said.
‘What about her?’ asked Jarek, a little uncertainly.
‘I’m sorry: she’s dead.’
‘What?’
‘I—I tried to help her, give her a chance to get away—’
‘Away from what? How did she die?’
‘Away from the bastard who shot her. He’s dead too.’ A lot of people were dead now.
‘This wasn’t on Khathryn, was it?’
‘On . . . ? Oh, no. It were in Khesh City. On Vellern.’
‘Vellern? Of course. Shit - you two are Angels! Hence the flying. ’ Jarek snorted, a harsh laugh. ‘God, I might have known Nual would end up in that line of work.’
‘That’s right,’ said Taro, unable to keep the pride out of his voice, ‘we’re Angels.’ Jarek didn’t need to know that while Nual had been one of the most revered of the Khesh City assassins, Taro had had his implants for only a few weeks, and had yet to use his blades in anger.
‘But what the hell was Elarn doing on Vellern?’
‘Looking for Nual.’ Jarek looked confused, so Taro added helpfully, ‘she didn’t wanna be there. She—She didn’t’ve much choice.’ He wondered how much he should say.
‘I’ll bet she didn’t,’ said Jarek, his voice tight.
‘So . . . d’you know about - about them?’
‘If you mean do I know that the Sidhe aren�
��t long-dead like most people think but are alive and well and still fucking over humanity, then yes, Taro sanMalia, I know that very well indeed. And I’m not surprised those bitches sent Elarn to her death.’
‘Like I said, I’m sorry she’s dead.’ Taro shivered. ‘They fucked me over too.’
‘That’s something we’ve got in common, then.’ Jarek’s voice was loaded with bitterness.
They lapsed into uneasy silence. It started to rain again. The novelty of weather had definitely begun to wear off.
There was a slight disturbance above them and a moment later Taro made out a figure outlined against the red glow of the burning house. Nual dropped quickly, slowing at the last moment to land gently on the damp rock. When she shrugged the cloak back Taro saw that she’d managed to rescue the gun case and the overnight bag from the aircar. He relaxed a little; without the case to recharge it their gun would soon stop working, and the overnight bag contained the one memento of his old life he’d hate to lose.
She gave Taro a brief nod and turned to Jarek. ‘I am sorry,’ she said.
‘You mean about Elarn?’ said Jarek. ‘Your companion here already told me she’s dead.’
Nual looked slightly taken aback. ‘No,’ she said, ‘though I am sorry for that too. I meant, I’m sorry I broke my promise. I would not have overridden your will if it had not been necessary for our survival.’
So Jarek Reen knew that Nual was Sidhe? What else did he know about her?
‘It’s all right,’ said Jarek, ‘I was pretty pissed off, but you’re right, you had your reasons. God, Nual, it’s good to see you - even with . . . everything.’
He opened his arms and she hugged him in return.
Jealousy wasn’t an emotion Taro had much experience of, but seeing the two of them embracing sent something searing through him. When they broke apart, he asked Nual, his voice a little too loud, ‘So d’you find out who those lags were, then?’
Nual replied, ‘The aircar had already picked the survivors up. They were professionals, but as for who hired them, I do not know.’
Taro turned to Jarek. ‘How about you? Any idea?’
‘Not a clue,’ said Jarek.
‘So nothing to do with you, then? Just coincidence, you showing up at the same time?’ Taro knew he was being unreasonable, but it hurt to see how much Nual cared for this cove she hadn’t even bothered to mention before.
Jarek didn’t reply.
Nual said, ‘Taro, I trust Jarek with my life. We are old friends.’
‘I can see that.’
‘I think we’ve all got some explaining to do,’ said Jarek, ‘but I don’t think this is the time or the place. The tide comes in pretty fast around here. Can I suggest we go somewhere a little more comfortable to talk?’
No one could object to that, so they flew slowly back up the cliff, taking a diagonal course that brought them out some way along from the house. When they landed Jarek looked back at the burning building. ‘The authorities will arrive to investigate soon, so we need to get out of here. My aircar’s parked in the woods.’
As Jarek turned to lead the way Taro noticed his eyes were glistening in the light from the flames. He felt sorry for the cove, losing his home and his sister in one day. But he had to know how things stood with him and Nual, so when Jarek led them into the trees he hung back with her, and thought
Nual’s gaze was fixed on her feet.
‘Were you staying at the house?’
Taro jumped at the sound of the question spoken out loud, but Nual answered, ‘No, we have rooms in a hotel in Kendall’s Wharf. I do not think we should return to them.’
‘Reckon you’re right. The hitmen were talking about using gas to take out a female target. They must have meant you. Elarn— Well, they could just have come in with guns and Elarn would’ve surrendered. Who knows you’re here?’
‘Your family lawyer is the only person I have identified myself to. Taro and I have been using Vellern IDs.’
‘If it’s still the same firm then he wouldn’t sell you out by choice. Did you read him?’
‘I detected no sign of Sidhe influence when we met. The Sidhe can leave traps in the heads of their agents; I delved only deep enough to check he wasn’t lying.’
‘If you’re not sure, you’d be wise to play dead. It might be better if you stayed with me for now.’
Nual didn’t object to his offer. It looked like this stranger was automatically their friend.
After a while Nual said, ‘Jarek, how did the Sidhe find out I was on Vellern? Was it from you?’
‘Yeah, it was. But I didn’t tell them willingly. And at the moment, they probably think I’m dead.’ He ducked under a low branch. ‘The aircar’s just through here.’
Jarek’s vehicle was smaller and more battered than the one they’d left parked outside the burning cliff-house. The back seat was tiny, so Nual offered Taro the roomier seat up front, next to Jarek.
Though Taro was glad to be somewhere warm and dry, as the lid came down he had a moment of panic. Nual trusted Jarek, but she’d not seen him for years, and she hadn’t expected to see him now. ‘What you said about us coming to stay with you,’ he asked, ‘what d’you mean?’
‘On my ship.’ From the way Jarek handled the controls, he obviously knew how to actually fly an aircar, not just rely on the autopilot like they had.
They took off, and Taro had a brief snapshot of tree branches caught in the lights before the view settled into rainy darkness. ‘Ship? Like at the port at Kendall’s Wharf?’
‘Not that kind of ship,’ said Jarek. ‘A shiftship. For travelling between the stars.’
Taro was confused. The two starliners he’d travelled on had been huge and luxurious, and just getting from Vellern to Khathryn had used up nearly half their credit. Someone who owned one of those surely wouldn’t be driving around in a car that looked like it was hardly worth jacking.
From the back, Nual said, ‘Jarek is a freetrader.’
Before Taro could ask what a freetrader was, Jarek, his voice all comradely-like, said, ‘I used my inheritance to buy myself into a partnership running a small tradebird, and when my partner retired I bought him out. I’ve been travelling the shipping lanes ever since.’
Taro had been staggered to discover that there were hundreds of different places beyond the small, closed world of Khesh City, and he’d already resolved to see as many of them as he could - in Nual’s company, of course. ‘Right,’ he said.
CHAPTER FOUR
Elarn was dead. Jarek had expected to find her still pissed off with him, or shit-scared after a visit from the Sidhe. Not dead. And though the Sidhe had sent her to her death, ultimately it was his fault.
Was that why he’d offered to help Nual and her companion, despite having problems of his own? That old sense of responsibility getting him in trouble again.
As the silence stretched, Jarek stole a look at the boy sitting next to him. His extreme height must be a result of being born in a low-g environment, but the rest of his look - tight leggings, loose shirt, oversized dark jacket and scruffy collar-length hair with one longer strand plaited with red and black - was all artful contrivance. Taro’s reaction to finding himself in the company of a man Nual cared for told Jarek all he needed to know about their relationship: this was a lad well under Sidhe glamour. But he was also an Angel, a member of Vellern’s élite assassin caste - as was Nual. That was somehow fitting. He felt something not entirely unlike fatherly pride for a moment before catching himself; now she was a murderer, for God’s sake, on top of being a Sidhe.
But none of that changed the fact that he’d been delighted to see her. Sometimes he wondered if he was as free from he
r influence as he thought he was.
He had a brief urge, borne of stress, to ask how the two of them met, as though they were just a pair of young lovers he was giving a lift to on a rainy night. But right now he had more important questions. Turning his head to make it obvious he was speaking to Nual he asked, ‘What brought you back here now?’
He saw Taro’s lips thin at being excluded. Grow up, kid, he thought, even as he noted how the sour expression leant an interesting touch of hardness to the boy’s exotic looks.