Consort (Beyond Ontariese 6) (12 page)

She cleared her throat and took a deep
breath. “No. I need to be a part of this.”

Krysta nodded then looked back at
Indric. She appeared nearly as uncomfortable with the tale as
Cinarra felt. “Cinarra is my mother. Belle, my twin sister, and I
were born during her captivity at Operation Hydra.”

“
I am so sorry. I knew
there had been other captives, but I didn’t realize you were one of
them.”

“
It was a long time ago and
I’ve worked very hard to leave it in the past. So, if you don’t
mind I’d like to take you through the rest rather quickly. These
events are painful for both of us.”

“
I understand. Please
proceed.”

He doesn’t need to know
about Belle. Just tell him she didn’t survive
. Cinarra carefully shielded the thought and sent it directly
to Krysta’s mind. Krysta acknowledged the request with a barely
discernible nod before she continued.

“
Operation Hydra was a
living nightmare. There is no other way to describe it. My life
mate Trey was searching for Cinarra when he found the Center, but
by that time Cinarra was already…” She looked at her mother with a
helplessly expression. “How else can I put it? For all intents and
purposes, you were dead.”

Cinarra had recovered enough to speak,
so she took up the story. “During an especially heinous experiment,
Dr. Hydran pushed me too far and inadvertently destroyed my
physical body. I knew I was dying, so I fled to the metaphysical
plane. I know that’s an Ontarian expression, but you do understand
what I mean, don’t you?”

“
Yes. Bilarrians call it
astral projection or soul traveling. But even the most powerful
soul traveler can’t exist outside of their body for more than a few
hours.”

“
Here’s where it starts
getting complicated.”

Krysta reached over and squeezed her
hand. “Don’t get bogged down with details.” It was Krysta’s way of
reminding her that some of the secrets belonged to Charlotte and
Tal and they might not want Indric to know.

Fair
enough
. “There was an explosion that caused
a rip in the veil surrounding our reality. My being was sucked into
an incorporeal dimension. Time and space had no meaning there. It’s
almost impossible to explain because there were no physical
sensations only torturous thoughts and endless isolation.” She took
a deep breath, fighting back the memories, the sucking abyss that
gripped her so often in her nightmares. “I knew I wasn’t dead, but
there were times I wished I had died. In many ways what I
experienced was worse than death.” She lapsed into silence and
Krysta knelt on the floor beside her, unwilling to release her
hand.

“
The rest of us were
rescued by Trey and his men, but not before Hydran got his hands on
Vee.”

Indric remained silent and attentive,
but his shock was obvious. Vee had been the most powerful Mystic
Ontariese had ever produced. Anyone who had known him would have
been surprised that a mere human had been able to best him. But
then Dr. Hydran had been no ordinary human.

“
Hydran impregnated Belle
with what he’d taken from Vee and then manipulated the baby’s DNA,”
Krysta continued.

“
You’re talking about
Betaul,” Indric said. “I had no idea Vee was Betaul’s father. Vee
had Rodyte blood. That means it’s possible that Betaul could
develop Bilarrian abilities as well as Ontarian.” Krysta looked
confused, so he clarified. “Rodytes are an offshoot of Bilarri. Our
planets have been at war for so long, people tend to forget that
it’s technically a civil war.” Krysta started to ask a question,
but Indric held up his hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to distract
you.”

Cinarra smiled at him, but sadness
filled her heart. Thoughts of Belle were always bittersweet. She
had been so sweet, so gentle, so innocent even after everything
Hydran did to her. “Belle survived long enough to give Betaul life.
But she lives on in her son and in our memories.” She looked at
Krysta and they shared a knowing smile. Belle hadn’t died in the
conventional sense, but exactly what had become of her wasn’t
relevant to this part of the story.

“
It was about a year after
Trey liberated the Center when things flared up again,” Krysta
picked up the explanation as Cinarra lapsed into silence. “Vee was
still alive and I’d been helping him with Seth, excuse me
Betaul
, when one of the
refugees from Operation Hydra sold herself to the
Rodytes.”

The description made Cinarra smile.
The “refugee” in question had been a traitor from the start, so
Krysta’s bitterness was understandable. “The traitor knew how
unique Betaul was and convinced the Rodytes he was essential to
their research.”

Indric stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“The Rodytes have been attempting to use technology to mimic our
abilities for generations. I can see why they would be interested
in Betaul.”

Did Indric know about Saebin? Lord
Drakkin did, but Cinarra couldn’t think of a specific reason he
would have mentioned her to Indric. Rather than bringing her up
unnecessarily, she tried to keep things generalized. “With the
Rodytes’ help, the traitor managed to kidnap Betaul, and when the
rescue party found Betaul, they were able to bring me back from the
incorporeal dimension.” There. Now he knew everything. Well, almost
everything.

Indric stared at her in silence for a
moment, apparently sorting through all the information they’d
thrust upon him. “But your physical body had been destroyed.
How…?”

He didn’t need to finish the question.
It was obvious she’d need to delve deeper. But the deeper she dug
the more painful the details became. She closed her eyes and
concentrated on her emotions, determined to gain control over her
racing heart and her whirring mind.

“
If you’d allow me, I can
help,” Indric offered.

Fear, anger and loss were racing
toward the surface, threatening to abolish what little remained of
her composure. Without opening her eyes, she whispered, “Yes.
Please.”

“
You are calm, Krystabel.”
The events were part of her old life, so it sounded right to hear
her birth name. “These events have no power over you.”

Her skin tingled and heat sank into
her flesh, relaxing her muscles and slowing her fluttering pulse.
Emotions dissolved, popping like harmless soap bubbles, until she
was so relaxed she was almost sleepy. “Thank you.” She opened her
eyes and smiled at him. “That’s some trick you’ve got
there.”

“
Anytime.”

She blew out a shaky breath and
resumed in a much calmer tone. “I could sense Betaul or he could
sense me. I’m honestly not sure how it worked. That was before
Drakkin had separated him from his power source, but his abilities
were just starting to develop.”

“
This explains why a child
his age was able to heal himself. He is more miraculous than I ever
imagined.”

“
And more dangerous,” she
pointed out. “Obviously I don’t agree with the NRS’s radical
positions, but in this instance their fear is justified, at least
to some extent.”

“
When did Betaul heal
himself?” Krysta got up off the floor and moved back to her chair,
obviously annoyed. “When were you going to tell me about
this
?”

“
One story at a time,”
Cinarra stressed. Her hotheaded daughter never failed to react
whenever Betaul was involved. “I used Betaul’s signal to locate the
tear in the veil, but it required so much energy to communicate. I
was able to interact with Saebin because her implants made her
easier to reach, but—”

“
Saebin, Overlord Lyrik’s
wife?”

Cinarra nodded. No matter how hard she
tried to simplify the story it was still complicated. “Saebin was
also a product of Operation Hydra. She is my biological daughter
but she was carried by a woman named Joleen. She is Krysta’s
half-sister.”

Indric rubbed his eyes as he shook his
head. “A living nightmare doesn’t begin to describe Operation
Hydra, does it?” Both women nodded. “I’m beginning to
understand.”

“
One of Saebin’s many gifts
is called a conduit,” Krysta took up the explanation and Cinarra
was relieved. This was the part of the story she dreaded most. Even
Indric’s soothing voice couldn’t keep her guilt at bay. “Mom used
Betaul to locate the tear and Saebin—with some help from
Drakkin—sort of poured Mom’s being into a new body.”

“
And where did this new
body come from, or don’t I want to know?”

“
She’s not the traitor if
that’s what’s what you’re worried about,” Krysta assured him. “One
of the female Mystics had been taking care of Betaul when the
Rodytes snatched him. They took her too rather than allowing her to
sound the alarm. The head Rodyte used her as a shield during the
firefight and even Drakkin couldn’t save her life. But he was able
to patch up her body well enough to sustain Mom until a team of
healers could repair the rest of the damage.”

“
I still can’t help feeling
that I’m responsible for her death,” Cinarra confessed.

“
It wasn’t your fault,”
Krysta insisted. “None of it was your fault.”

“
I cheated death. Perhaps I
wasn’t meant to live again.”

Indric stood and moved in front of
her, his expression inscrutable. “I, for one, am glad death didn’t
claim you. And the best way to honor the Mystic’s sacrifice is to
live your life to the fullest.”

Only one secret remained, but it was a
doozy. She stood as well, needing to feel less
vulnerable.

Krysta joined them in the space
between the chairs and faced off with Indric. “Now you can answer
me truthfully, Your Majesty. What are your intentions toward my
mother?”

Indric just laughed and leaned down
and kissed Cinarra’s cheek. “You’ll have to ask your mother what
her intentions are toward me.” He winked at Cinarra then added, “I
won’t be free for dinner, so enjoy this time with your daughter.
I’ll see you tonight.”

Dread dropped like a stone into the
pit of her stomach. She’d hesitated a moment too long and the
opportunity was gone. Damn it.

Krysta touched her arm, drawing her
attention away from the doorway through which Indric had left, “Are
you all right?”

“
I knew I’d have to tell
him at some point.” She distracted Krysta with the bland statement
while she struggled for composure. “He seems to have taken it
well.”

“
Which leads us back to my
original question.” The speculation in Krysta’s expression warned
Cinarra that the dodge hadn’t been entirely successful. “Are you
and Indric lovers?”

* * * * *

Invigorated by the danger of traveling
incognito, Queen Nasrin picked her way through the teaming masses
of the public bazaar. She’d chartered a private transport under an
assumed name to a spaceport near San Adrin’s capital city, but that
was as far as she’d been able to come without creating a trail.
After slipping into her disguise, she’d used public trams to enter
Camp Rabadah, unnoticed, unimportant, one of thousands who came and
went every day.

Mingling with the public was always an
experience both exciting and abhorrent. Without her security
entourage to keep people at a respectful distance, she was
enveloped by sounds and smells and pulses of raw energy. She was
dressed in shorts and a tank top, the standard uniform of the
average female tourist. Dark sunglasses and a light brown wig
further altered her appearance. Her chances of being recognized
were minimal, but it was a risk she’d been willing to
take.

Her primary purpose was to meet with
her contact within Indric’s staff. The conversation could have
taken place over holocom, but she’d also wanted to gauge the
public’s reaction to Eagin’s ridiculous misstep. The easiest way to
accomplish both was for her to hazard a personal
appearance.

She’d expected the city to be buzzing
with gossip and speculation, but no one on the tram said a word
about the attack and everyone in the bazaar seemed obsessed with an
upcoming cometball tournament.

Her contact was supposed to meet her
at a park not far from the palace, so she left the bazaar and
hustled toward the destination. It hadn’t looked far on the
holomap, but even filtered, the afternoon sun was quickly sapping
her strength. The Fire Islands were often hot, but their lush,
tropical trees and cool ocean breezes kept it from feeling this
oppressive.

She bought an iced rikolan from a
sidewalk vendor and headed for a bench in the shade of a massive
lariffa tree. Despite the heat, the park was crowded with joggers
and picnickers. Children swarmed a nearby playground, their
laughter and sharp cries drifting in the air. She tried to enjoy
the peaceful scene, but idle time did not sit well with
her.

“
Rebekka,” Ametto used her
codename, drawing her attention away from the playground. “What are
you doing here?” His attempt to make the meeting seem spontaneous
was surprisingly convincing.

She’d originally introduced herself as
Queen Nasrin’s envoy, but she suspected Ametto knew her true
identity. Not much sneaked past the head of Indric’s security
team.