B00CH3ARG0 EBOK (12 page)

Grief and loss coursed through Thela, searing Marianne’s
heart in its intensity. She reached along the hurt and tried to calm it. She
couldn’t blunt the pain, but Thela’s panic began to subside. She wrapped her
arms around the girl, deep instinct guiding her. Thela needed her. Her embrace
tightened.
Mine now.

Slowly, Thela began to relax. Marianne, though absorbed with
soothing her, was nevertheless aware of the presence of others when help began
to arrive. She grew wary.

“There is nothing I can do for him,” said a voice, too close.
Cena.

Marianne’s jaw clamped. She would
not
allow anyone to
disturb Thela now. Then a gentle probe came from Cena. She tightened her hold
on the girl.

The Sural’s presence approached. “How did this happen?” he
asked, shock and grief coloring his voice.

“High one,” said a voice she didn’t know, “the scientist
caught his robe. He tripped and fell, and struck his head on the paving stones.
The child and the Marann attempted to aid him, but they were not able to arrest
his fall.”

That must be a guard,
Marianne thought, as she began
to become aware of her surroundings. Thela relaxed a little more, loosening her
grip on Marianne.

“It’s all right,” Marianne whispered. “It’s all right.” More
of Thela’s panic ebbed.

“High one, they are bonding.” Cena’s voice again.

A hand touched her arm. The Sural. “Beloved,” he called
softly. “Marianne.”

Marianne opened her eyes. Guards, aides, and servants filled
her view. Cena. The Sural. Her eyes narrowed.
Too close.
Too many!

“It would be better if you let this bond go,” he said.

A probe came from him. With a shock, Marianne realized he
was prying delicately at her connection with Thela. He put his other hand on
the girl’s shoulder.

MINE!
A reflex she didn’t know she possessed
galvanized her. Marianne snarled and swept Thela away from the Sural. Putting
her own body between them, she raised an arm, threatening, ready to strike him
if necessary.

He took a step backward, raising his hands. She turned back
to Thela, but continued to watch the Sural with a wary eye. He edged closer and
touched her shoulder again. The world faded into radiance as he poured himself
into her through their pair-bond. She blinked and gradually met his eyes,
unable to see anything but him. Then she growled under her breath. No one was
going to take Thela from her, not even the Sural.

He reached into her and ...
pulled
. Thela’s senses tore
loose, surging toward him. Marianne staggered, disoriented, her vision
clearing. Cena caught her and pulled her away as Thela threw her arms around the
Sural.

With a sense of loss she couldn’t quite define, Marianne
looked around her, once more fully aware of her surroundings. Apothecary aides had
covered the body and were carrying it away on a litter. A servant was cleaning
the stones at the base of the gazebo steps. A short distance away, Thela hugged
the Sural, who held her with eyes closed. Wild panic danced in the air around
them.

Confused, she met Cena’s eyes. “The last thing I remember is
trying to pull Thela away from her father’s body,” she said. “What happened?”

“She tried to bond you to herself,” Cena answered. With a
wary glance at the Sural, she pulled Marianne farther away. “Traumatic bonding
is very powerful,” she continued as they made their way toward the keep. “We
must leave them.”

Marianne looked back. “Will they be all right?” she asked.

“The Sural knows what he is doing,” she replied. “But this
initial bonding – do you remember how you felt? Do you remember threatening him?”
Marianne blanched. “If they are disturbed, he will do the same. Rulers are very
dangerous, high one, the Sural most of all, and I do not want to provoke him.”

Marianne shuddered. “I didn’t know what was happening,” she
said.

“No, you could not have known. She panicked and on instinct sought
to bond with the nearest adult. She could not help herself, high one.”

“I felt it too.” Marianne’s throat constricted on the words.
“I felt him die.”

“It is a difficult experience,” Cena agreed.

Marianne shuddered again. “It was horrible. Worse than the
pilot.”

The healer’s voice was soft and hinted of memory. “Yes. It
only grows worse.”

* * *

Storaas shut his barriers as tightly as he could and headed
for the transit room. Two deaths in one day, in a single afternoon, had
shredded him. The first, at least, would not be mourned. The second… the second
was a tragedy that had left the stronghold in shock.

And he’d felt it all, raw and unprepared.

His favorite transport pod was there, hovering over the exit
shaft, waiting for him. It knew he was coming – somehow, it always did. Small
and designed to carry two persons, the creature was a hollow crystalline ovoid
just two strides long and a stride in width. He settled himself into it with
relief.

“You know where I wish to go, my friend.”

The pods were barely sentient, bred to serve. Eager to
please him, it dropped at high speed into the shaft down to the transport
tunnels. In spite of his distress, Storaas smiled. The creature’s simple
pleasure soothed him.

Few were sensitive enough to detect a transport pod’s
emotions. Storaas sometimes cursed the gift that made him one of those few. He was
cursing it now, as he fled to escape the emotional aftershocks that reverberated
through the stronghold like lightning. It was too much, wracked as he was from
experiencing two deaths in quick succession with his empathic barriers mostly
down.

He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. With the
Sural occupied by the unfortunate Thela, any business for the day had come to a
halt. It was his responsibility as chief advisor to keep things running
smoothly in the Sural’s absence, but he had been too shattered to focus. He had
canceled the rest of the official meetings for the day and left.

The transport pod rocketed out of the tunnels under the city
and into the clear green waters of the Bay of Suralia, heading for the channel
out into the deep ocean. As it descended, he felt blanketed by the weight of
the sea around him. He was alone, too far from city and stronghold to sense the
emotions of others.

Heaving a sigh, he let the pod know how very grateful he
was.

* * *

It was late in the night when the Sural joined Marianne
under her blanket, fatigue rolling off him in waves. She curled up against his
side.

“You’re exhausted,” she said.

He nodded in the moonlight and threw an arm over his head, staring
up at the dark ceiling. “Forgive me for using our bond against you, beloved. It
was the only action I thought might distract you from protecting Thela.”

“I understand.”

He sighed and gave her a puzzled look. “You are not angry.”

She kissed his shoulder. “Should I be?”

“It was ... not well done of me to use our bond in that manner.”

Marianne started to shrug but kissed his shoulder again
instead. “Is Thela all right?”

“As well as she can be, under the circumstances. She will
need a great deal of attention in the coming days. Kyza needed me as well. It
was a very ... arduous evening.”

“And now you have two daughters?”

He nodded again. “I have become her father by accepting her
bond. I will order her moved to quarters in the family wing tomorrow.” He
sighed. “How is your friend?”

“Still sleeping. She had a pretty bad day herself. Beloved, what
do we do about her locater chip?”

“We will remove it.”

She gasped. “Against her will?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “We have not asked her yet,” he
replied. “But yes, against her will if she refuses and you cannot convince her.
I cannot allow her to remain here with the chip intact, but I cannot with honor
send her back into human space and certain death.”

“So the chip comes out, whether she likes it or not,” she said,
the idea souring her mood. “I’ll talk to her. Can you give me a couple of days
to convince her, if she’s reluctant?”

“I can give you until another human ship approaches our
space,” he said, and closed his eyes. Then radiance brightened the night as he
flowed into their bond. “Beloved,” he whispered, “I need you.” He rolled onto
his side and stroked her face with his fingertips. “Let me find some joy
today.”

* * *

Dawn brought a flashing light and a dull tone from her comms
unit. She groaned as it woke her. “I don’t be
lieve
this,” she muttered. She
threw on a robe and grabbed her hairbrush.

The Sural was in her sitting room reading reports when she
came in, running a brush through her hair as she walked. “Do you ever sleep?”
she asked.

He chuckled and checked his tablet. “Perhaps you should
answer your comms.”

She scowled at him as she sat at her desk to accept the
connection. The face of Adeline Russell blinked back at her on the monitor. “What
do
you
want,” Marianne snapped.

“Funny, that’s what I was just about to ask you,” Adeline
answered with a smile.

“What I want, Addie, is for you and your goons to stop
calling me at dawn.”

“Oh, is it that early where you are? I’m so sor—” Marianne
killed the connection.

The Sural chuckled again.

“And what’s so amusing?” she asked him archly.

“Perhaps you should get a little more sleep,” he said. “You
are rather – what is the word –
cranky
, and I am informed that your
friend is still asleep.”

She growled and went back to her mat, but sleep eluded her. She
communed with her unborn daughter instead, cradling her empathically and
stroking her into a contented little glow. It soothed her own temper, mostly; when
she rejoined the Sural in the sitting room afterward, she felt a little better.

“What will you do today?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she answered, calmer but still feeling a
little out of sorts. “Probably spend a lot of time with Laura. Get her settled.
Convince her to get the chip out of her head.”

He nodded. “I will be in meetings through the day.”

Marianne’s stomach growled. “I’m hungry,” she announced, turning
on her heel to head out the door of her quarters. The Sural made a sound like he
was stifling a snort and followed her.

* * *

Marianne slowed down and sobered when she reached the
refectory. The atmosphere was subdued and grieved – word of the tragedy had
spread throughout the stronghold before the sun had set on it.

Kyza was already at the high table, picking at her food
without much interest. Thela was nowhere to be seen. Marianne assumed the young
musician would either eat in the kitchen or in her quarters, if she ate at all,
but was surprised when she appeared in the doorway and made her way to the high
table. A few of her father’s colleagues shot her sympathetic looks as she
passed. When she reached the high table, she climbed into the Sural’s lap and huddled
there, eyes squeezed shut. Marianne sensed the hurt, confusion, and despair
radiating from her. The Sural closed his eyes and put an arm around her but
continued to eat, slowly, as he communed with his new daughter.

It was going to be a long day for him, Marianne thought.

“Unusual circumstances,” Cena murmured beside her.

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Marianne asked.

The apothecary shook her head. “Only when the traumatic bond
first forms do we instinctively defend a child. After that, we commune normally
when the child seeks comfort.”

“Why the difference?”

Cena shrugged a shoulder. “It is the nature of it. Their
bond formed by dusk, rather than taking days as a parental bond normally does. Truthfully,
I am grateful that the Sural was able to interfere yesterday – I would not have
you in the position of being her bond-mother. She is in a great deal of
distress, and I would rather your daily life be less stressful than more so.” Cena
put her hand on Marianne’s swelling belly and smiled. “Your child is content
this morning. Good. Come to my quarters when you finish your meal, high one. I
would prefer to examine you early.” She rose and strode off.

As Marianne finished her tea, Thela opened her eyes and
sighed. “I broke my laerta yesterday,” she said, deep unhappiness in her voice.

“We shall have to locate a new one for you today,” the Sural
replied. “We cannot allow a musician of your talent to be without an
instrument.”

“But they sound better when they are at least two hundred
years old,” she protested.

“Then we shall have to locate an old one.” A gentle smile
curved his mouth. She smiled back uncertainly, and he gave her a squeeze. “I
must work now, Thela,” he said, tapping her softly on the nose. “The work of
the Sural is never done. Can you be brave for me until the midday meal?” She
nodded. “Excellent!” She climbed down from his lap. “Go to the family library.
Your tutors await you there. They will help you keep busy this morning.” He
patted her shoulder. “Off with you.”

“Yes, high one.” She stopped. “Father,” she amended, and
trotted off to find the library.

* * *

Laura woke feeling worlds better. She stretched and yawned,
enjoying the soft bed. Then she opened her eyes on the unfamiliar ‘sleeping
room,’ and reality came crashing in on her. She groaned.

At least she’d been able to sleep. She’d been afraid, at
first, that it would be impossible to sleep on the floor. Camping with the
children and sleeping in tents had been more years ago than she cared to admit,
even to herself. But the mat was wonderfully soft, comfortable, and warm, and
she’d been so exhausted that she nodded off within moments of lying down on it.
She didn’t even remember Marianne leaving.

It was still daylight, though. She wasn’t sure how long
she’d slept, but it felt like a few hours – long enough to leave her hair a
mess and wrinkle the robe they’d given her to wear. Sitting up, she stretched
her arms and legs until the joints popped. Then she hauled herself off the mat
and looked around.