He nodded. “We won’t know for sure.”
“I could kick myself for falling apart like that. If we’d kept moving, who knows what we would’ve found.”
Larry couldn’t argue with her logic, but he disagreed with her take on the outcome. “Don’t go blaming yourself. Chances are we wouldn’t have spotted them, and without what you sensed, we wouldn’t have anything to go on at all.”
“You’re just trying to make me feel better,” she chided.
Leaning closer, he scanned her lovely face for evidence. “Is it working?”
“I don’t know,” she replied with a smile that belied her words. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.”
* * *
Althea was feeling well enough to wonder why the Guardians had made such an impact on her psyche. Was it simply their inherent magic speaking to her Mordrial ancestry? Or was it something more significant?
The longer she thought about it, the more the feelings she’d sensed seemed altruistic in some manner. Almost as though the Guardians were afraid for someone other than themselves. She couldn’t explain how she knew that any more than she could explain how she’d known those emotions had emanated from the tiny monkeys to begin with, but the idea nagged at her like the bite from a particularly vicious mosquito.
She debated whether to tell Larry her suspicions or wait for further evidence. That the Guardians cared about the Statzeelian people was fairly obvious, or they wouldn’t have played such an important role in that planet’s culture. Had they spotted Dartula and Keplok and been afraid for their safety? Granted, any offworlder was at risk on Palorka, but were they in danger because of who or what they were?
Four Zetithians strolling through the Thewbeohol marketplace had to be an anomaly. One Guardian had seen fit to bring Larry’s father back from the brink of death, and the little monkeys could have been aware that many of Cat’s offspring were now living on Statzeel. Had the blast of emotions she’d received been intended as a warning? The tiny primates couldn’t communicate verbally; had they attempted telepathy?
“We need my mother here,” she said aloud. “She would know what all these critters were thinking. She wouldn’t have to bother with the Palorkans. She would simply ask the animals if they’d seen any of the Guardians.”
“The animals would probably be more truthful too,” he said. “I’m not sure I’d trust anything a Palorkan told me.”
“No kidding. And except for that dude that ran into Keplok, they’ve pretty much left us alone.”
“Probably waiting for us to let our guard down.” He aimed a wary glance over his shoulder. “Wish Keplok hadn’t been flashing the credits around quite so freely.”
“He didn’t pay full price for that sword,” she reminded him. “Maybe haggling is all it takes to earn their respect.”
“You might be right. I’ve never bothered to try to figure them out.” Pausing, he turned toward her. “Having an empath around might make a difference.” He swept her with a glance. “Can you read anything beyond the grumpy stuff?”
“Not a lot,” she replied. “Their emotions seem really strange—like they’re the opposite of the behaviors being displayed.”
Larry chuckled. “You mean they actually like the folks they keep trying to kill?”
She nodded. “Seems that way. Anyone they don’t like, they ignore.”
“Interesting theory, but I’d be afraid to test it. It’d be nice to know for sure, though. We’ve been essentially ignored ever since we arrived.” His eyes narrowed. “Come to think of it, that’s how it’s been whenever I’ve been here.” He stopped in his tracks as realization struck. “You don’t suppose that guy Mom got into a fight with actually had the hots for her, do you?”
“Now, that really would be funny.”
Larry crowed with laughter. “I can’t wait to tell her. She’ll have an absolute cow.”
“Unless she’s already figured it out, which might be why she never comes here anymore.” She glanced at a passing native with misgiving. “Can’t say I blame her for that.”
Larry couldn’t, either. “No kidding. A matchup like that is almost as bizarre as a Scorillian with a crush on a Zetithian.”
Their eyes met, hers brimming with mischief and barely contained mirth. “That guy who ran into Keplok. You don’t suppose…”
“Good thing he hadn’t bought the sword yet.”
They were both still chuckling when they met up with Brak and the Dynamic Duo.
“What’s the joke?” Brak asked, sounding slightly peevish. “I could use a good laugh.”
Ordinarily, Brak might not have appreciated the humor, but spending the afternoon with Keplok might have altered his perspective.
Larry wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes. “I’ll tell you later. I promise.” He glanced at Keplok, who had a rather dusty guitar hanging on his back. “No need to ask what kind of instrument you bought.”
Keplok’s eyes lit up with even more than the usual Zetithian glow as he pulled the guitar from behind his back. Between the sword and the guitar, he looked like a heavily armed wandering minstrel. “It’s a twelve-string Martin. I’ve been trying to find one for years, and they were practically giving it away.” He gazed at the guitar with an expression bordering on worship. “These guitars have been made on Earth for centuries. How it made it halfway across the galaxy, I can’t even begin to imagine. The stories it would tell if it could talk…”
Dartula had said he was a musician. Apparently, a good guitar was what it took to make him tolerable.
Perhaps I misjudged him.
No. He probably had a guitar on his ship. That might explain his mood after the worm ate it, but not before.
So much for that.
Althea frowned. “Can you actually play that thing?”
With a groan, Dartula pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Please don’t get him started.”
After aiming a seething glare at Dartula, Keplok nodded. “It needs cleaning and tuning, and it could stand to be restrung. But yes, I can play it.”
“Cool,” Althea said. “Maybe we could have a sing-along around the campfire after dinner.”
“He doesn’t play that kind of music,” Dartula said, her tone dripping with contempt. “Nobody can sing along with him.”
Keplok bared his teeth, and for a moment, Larry feared Dartula was in danger of losing a limb. “How would you know when you never listen?”
“Oh, I’ve listened,” she replied. “Briefly. Much more and I’d never be able to listen to anything again.”
Larry was beginning to get a feel for what Brak had been putting up with all afternoon. At this rate, the cheeseburgers would all be gone by the time they left Palorka—if there were even enough of them in the stasis unit to relieve his aggravation. “You know, your constant bickering is entertaining up to a point, but taking a break now and then couldn’t hurt.”
Keplok slung the guitar around to his back with a loud, discordant twang of the strings. “I would not ‘bicker’ if she did not provoke me.”
“I could say the same,” Dartula snapped. “You never miss an opportunity to say something hateful to me.”
“This isn’t helping,” Larry said. “What do you say we call it a day and head back to the ship?” Then he could make love with Althea all night and maybe—just maybe—forget why they’d come to this godforsaken planet to begin with.
“Will the market be open tomorrow?” Althea asked. “If not, we might want to consider doing some snooping around on our own. I’m pretty sure I felt—”
“Felt what?” Although she’d stopped before saying anything fatal, Keplok caught it anyway.
“You mean that vision you had?” Larry prompted. He didn’t know whether any of the Statzeelian crossbreeds had visions, but having visions was a Zetithian trait. Calling it that wouldn’t g
ive anything away with respect to her Mordrial powers.
“Yeah,” she said slowly. “The vision. Something or someone was really perturbed about something.”
Keplok hesitated for half a beat, nodding in a slow, sardonic fashion. “Well, now, that was certainly crystal clear.”
Al looked at Larry with desperation in her eyes before she shrugged and continued. “It’s why I felt bad so suddenly. I think it was the Guardians.”
“They were upset about their captivity?” Dartula suggested.
“Maybe. Either that or someone else’s. I can’t be sure.”
Dartula seemed hopeful. “But you’re sure they’re here?”
“I think so.”
Al was doing her best to provide a decent explanation that didn’t include her empathic abilities. Unfortunately, the Duo was proving to be tough to convince.
Suspicious bunch.
He couldn’t blame them for that. Especially since he and Al really were hiding something from them. Even so, he doubted telling them about her abilities would increase their trust. More likely, it would make it worse. Then again, they were family. Kind of.
Brak clicked his pincers like a teacher snapping her fingers at an inattentive student. “We can figure this out tomorrow. And to answer your question, Althea, yes, the market is open daily.”
“Thanks, Brak.” The warm smile Althea gave the Scorillian would’ve had any other male preening with pleasure. All she received from Brak was a fluffy wave of his antennae, which was possibly the same thing, although Larry honestly didn’t know. In all the years he and Brak had flown together, the opportunities for him to preen for females had been few and far between.
Larry offered Althea his arm. “Shall we?”
“You all go on ahead,” Brak said with a wave of a pincer. “I want to check something.” The “alone” was left unsaid but was clearly understood.
Wonder what that’s all about?
“Okay, but try not to get into any squabbles with the locals,” Larry advised.
“I shall do my best.” With that parting shot, Brak spread his long, glistening wings and rose into the air without even stirring up much dust.
“Never ceases to amaze me,” Larry said with a touch of awe as the Scorillian soared into the distance. “Makes me wonder why he ever bothers to walk anywhere.”
“Not enough room to lift off in most places.” Althea shrugged, threaded her arm through his, and gave it a squeeze. “But yeah. Pretty damn cool.” She gazed at the Scorillian until he disappeared from sight. “Aidan was always envious of the Avian clones and their ability to fly—although they had to learn to fly with their genetically engineered wings. Must be nice to actually be born with wings and the instinctive knack for using them.”
“Aidan?” Dartula echoed.
“My littermate,” Althea replied. “He and Aldrik feel a little left out when it comes to special talents. They’ve never had a prescient vision like other Zetithians, much less displayed any of my mother’s Mordrial powers.”
“And you have,” her sister said. “The visions, anyway.”
“Sort of.” Althea blew out a sigh. “Guess I might as well tell you. You’ll figure it out eventually, and I’m sick of trying to keep it a secret. I’m an empath. I can sense other people’s emotions, and I can control two elements: earth and fire.”
Larry’s relief at her revelation was also somewhat guarded. He’d never known her to control fire in the past; what her mother could do with fire was terrifying enough. Granted, her gifts were hers to share or hide as she saw fit, but they’d already agreed that telling their half siblings the truth wasn’t a good idea. However, since she’d obviously decided to spill the beans, he felt that a small amount of corroboration was in order. “I’ve seen her do things that would put the fear of the gods into pretty much anyone.”
“Such as?” Keplok’s eyes glowed with undisguised interest.
Larry scratched the back of his neck, unsure as to whether a full disclosure of the gory details was truly necessary. “Let’s just say you don’t ever want to be on the receiving end.” With a grin, he added, “So be careful what you’re thinking about whenever you’re nearby.”
Chapter 22
“Don’t worry,” Althea said quickly. “I can’t read thoughts. Only emotions. You can think anything you like as long as you do it without feeling.”
She couldn’t imagine Keplok ever doing such a thing. Poker-faced, he most definitely was not.
To her surprise, Dartula actually laughed as she jerked her head toward her companion. “You must be having a ton of fun hanging around with him.”
Althea gave her a tight smile. “His emotions don’t bother me. It’s the Guardians we need to be concerned with. Like I said, they seemed to be worried about someone other than themselves.”
“If it was even them.” Keplok arched a skeptical brow. “You aren’t sure, are you?”
“No, I’m not,” Althea admitted. “But it’s the best explanation I can come up with.” She hesitated. “I thought they might be afraid for you two.”
“They believe us to be in danger?” Keplok shrugged. “It is possible.” He gripped his sword hilt. “Although very unlikely.”
“That depends on how many thugs come after you at once,” Larry said. “A sword isn’t much use against a pulse pistol.” He glanced behind him. “We really need to watch our backs.”
“What about Brak?” Dartula asked. “Perhaps he’s the one in danger.”
“I doubt it,” Althea said. “Although we all might be looking for trouble simply by being on this planet without a damn good reason.” She frowned. “He never did say what he was checking on.”
Larry snorted a laugh. “Probably going to find out what sort of fast food they have in other parts of the city. Might’ve heard about a vendor selling tacos. That’s about the only thing he likes better than cheeseburgers.”
“Don’t you have any in the stasis unit?” Althea was sure she’d at least seen a few of the necessary ingredients on the shelves.
“No,” Larry replied. “He prefers to buy those made fresh. Any other time, he wouldn’t touch a vegetable with a stick. Apparently, lettuce and tomatoes are only acceptable when ground beef is involved, and the spicier the beef, the better.”
“Speaking of food, what’s for dinner?” Keplok asked.
The look Larry gave him would’ve slain anyone who possessed the tiniest particle of sensitivity. Keplok, however, appeared to be unaffected.
“I dunno, Keplok. Whatever you feel like fixing.” He glanced at Althea so quickly, she almost missed the wink. “We’re easy.”
“Zucchini and kale casserole, perhaps?” Keplok wasn’t smiling when he said it, and for a moment, Althea was sure he was serious.
Then her jaw dropped. “He made a joke. He actually made a joke. I don’t believe it!” She hadn’t picked up on a single emotion from him. Apparently, now that he knew she could read his feelings, he was keeping a lid on them—which, from her point of view, wasn’t a bad thing.
“That casserole isn’t as awful as it sounds,” Larry confided. “I actually like it, which is why I have it on my ship. Plus, it has the virtue of being one of the few entrees that are safe from Brak when he goes on a binge.” With a slow wag of his head, he added, “You wouldn’t believe how much that bug can eat. On one of our first flights together, I set out a big bowl of chicken and rice for us to share. Instead of putting some on his plate, he ate every bit of it right out of the serving dish. Costs a small fortune to feed him, but he’s very good at what he does, and we get along fairly well, so I figure he’s worth the extra expense. Not sure I’d want to feed two of them, though.”
“Speaking of which, is there enough on board to feed a bunch of monkeys for a little while?” Dartula asked. “I’m thinking this would be a bad place to resupply.”
&n
bsp; “You got that right,” Althea said. “There might be stores with edible food somewhere, but I wouldn’t touch that stuff they were selling in the marketplace.”
“No worries,” Larry said. “There are several planets between here and Rhylos that have pretty nice grocery stores. We can buy more along the way.” He leveled an admonitory gaze at his brother. “That is, if you don’t spend all your credits here.”
“I have no intention of spending any more than necessary.”
This time, Althea picked right up on Keplok’s huffy attitude, despite his deadpan delivery. Apparently, that lid on his emotions wasn’t entirely airtight. “Glad to hear it.” With a sideways glance at Keplok, she added, “If we hurry, I might even have time to bake a cake before dinner. That is, if you’ve ever figured out an equivalent for shrepple.”
With the exception of apple crumb cake, lemon drizzle cake, and blueberry muffins, she’d rarely made cakes with fruit as the star ingredient, and she wasn’t about to start experimenting now. Then again, for all she knew, a mix of apple, lemon, and blueberry might end up tasting like shrepple.
“I have not had the opportunity to perform a taste test,” he said as they began the trek across the plain toward the ship. “However, I would be willing to try a few samples.”
“Mmm-hmm… Or you could branch out and try something completely new and different.” She was about to say exciting, but one look at him suggested that when it came to food, excitement wasn’t his goal.
Although he did wolf down that vindaloo…
“Surprise us,” Larry suggested. “If you can get Brak to eat fruit, you’ll have leaped a major hurdle.”
Althea gasped. “No fruit? At all? He wouldn’t last long on Barada Seven.”
“None,” Larry replied. “No idea why.”
“Maybe he’s allergic.”
He shrugged. “Just doesn’t care for anything sweet. Won’t even eat chocolate unless it’s the raw beans. Don’t know how he can stand that stuff without a little sugar.”
As a fellow Zetithian, she knew their species’ taste for sweet stuff was pretty strong. Since the Baradan diet consisted almost entirely of fruit, she hadn’t missed the sugary treats too much, even though some of the local fruit tasted more like vegetables. She never had developed a taste for trelas, which had pucker power like an unripe persimmon. Her mouth went dry just thinking about it.
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