Crystal Fire (3 page)

Curse it all! Her stash was nearly exhausted in just freeing that loathsome male from prison. And now, on top of everything else, he was too ill to immediately set out after Ferox and Candra. What else could possibly go wrong?

Even for a beast as large and powerful as the Simian, with Brace Ardane slung over his shoulder the climb back down the fortress walls was arduous and awkward. Once again on solid ground, things were not much better. Though Ardane tried valiantly to make his own way through the sleepy city, his steps were stumbling and slow. In exasperation, Marissa finally signaled for the Simian to carry him the rest of the way.

The alien deposited Ardane in the abandoned monastery at the edge of town. In the heavy darkness, the lights from the fortress perched high above on the hill gleamed so sharp and clear Marissa felt she could almost reach out and touch them. They were close, far too close, for any sense of security.

She rounded on the Simian. "You agreed to get us to safety. This is
not
where I hid the skim craft."

The hairy man-beast grinned, his double row of sharp, narrow teeth glinting in the moonlight streaming into the ruins. He made several sweeping movements.

Marissa sputtered in outrage. "P-pay you? Why, you ignorant sandwart! I'll not give you one single coin until you"

"I suggest . . . you pay him," came a deep voice behind her. "He looks none too pleased . . . and could easily take the money. One way or another."

She whirled around, her fists clenched at her sides. "And I suppose you'd stand there and let him do it, wouldn't you?"

Brace leaned back wearily against a half-fallen wall, bracing himself to keep from sliding to the ground. "In my current condition, I'm afraid there's not much . . . I could do. But look at the bright side. He got us out . . . of the fortress."

"And then what am I supposed to do?" Marissa demanded, her keen glance assessing that he had little more to give. "You can barely stand, much less walk. Do you expect me to carry you all the way to safety? By the morrow, if not sooner, they'll discover your escape and come looking for you. Your freedom will be brief indeed, and I've already wasted enough time to have to start over again!"

"Your concern for me has been duly noted," Brace rasped. "But anger this Simian . . . and the rest will be academic. He'll simply murder us . . . then take your remaining imperials in the bargain."

For a moment all Marissa could do was stand there and glare at him, battling with a sense of futility. Ardane was right, curse his arrogant male hide.

The admission did little to soothe her emotions. As weak and hurting as he was, he was already proving most provoking and argumentative. What would he be like once he was well? Uneasiness skittered through her. Was
nothing
about this quest going to go smoothly?

Marissa forced herself to relax. "Here, take your money," she muttered, glowering at the Simian.

She slipped the pouch of imperials from about her neck. It was an easy enough task to separate what remained from what was owed. Fifty coins were counted out and the rest handed over to the big alien.

He took great care in ascertaining that the proper amount remained in the pouch, then nodded his acceptance. Momentarily, dark, beady eyes considered the money in Marissa's hand. With a small hiss, she whipped out the stunner and aimed it at him.

"Don't even think about it, you greedy bag of hair!" She made a waving motion with the gun. "Now, get out of here before I lose what little gratitude I have and take it all back!"

With a smirk and a shrug of broad, bony shoulders, the Simian turned and loped off into the darkness, his rank odor lingering on the nocte air. Speechless with rage, Marissa stared after him, all but forgetting the man behind her.

"You certainly have a way . . . with the hired help," Brace drawled finally.

He lowered himself to the ground and, with an exhausted sigh, leaned back against the wall. "This promises to be . . . a most interesting . . . partnership."

Marissa wheeled around. "Spare me your sarcasm, Ardane! We're in the gravest danger and I'm the only one capable of doing anything about it. So if you can't offer anything constructive, don't offer anything!"

"You're right, of course." He exhaled a deep, shuddering breath and closed his eyes. "I beg pardon. What would you . . . have me do?"

Marissa's lips curled in disgust at the sight of him sitting there on the ground, his battered body barely able to maintain an upright position. Males, she thought. So quick with words, with so little of substance to back them.

"There's nothing
you're
capable of doing at the moment, and you know it," she muttered. "Justjust stay right where you are. I'll be back."

Marissa strode off into the nocte.

Brace watched her leave, then once more closed his eyes. Gradually he became aware of the chill air. What monate of the cycle was it anyway? Late autumn most likely. And winter soon on its way.

He shivered. Even that tiny movement set his tortured muscles to aching. Brace groaned aloud. He was cold, he hurt so badly he wanted to die, and now he was saddled with a sharp-tongued little femina who seemed to have taken an instant dislike to him.

And yet, she'd specifically sought him out to rescue her sister. He tried to sort through the muddle in his head, but it was too much. What he needed now was rest. To rest and replenish what little strength he coulduntil she returned.

Some time later, a firm hand shook him awake. With a grunt, Brace jerked upright, momentarily disoriented. The action sent a sharp spasm of agony through him. He groaned, clutched his abdomen, and fell back.

Slowly he forced open his eyes, his bleary gaze sweeping the scene. It was near sol rise, the nocte sky tingeing to faint gray across the flat expanse of the Vastare wastes. By the five moons, where was

"Wake up," an irritated feminine voice demanded. "It's nearly morn and we must be on our way before we lose the advantage of darkness."

Brace blinked, then attempted to refocus. The little Moracan femina towered over him, her piquant face twisted in exasperation. He blinked again, then attempted a smile. It failed miserably as his swollen features rebelled. He groaned again. Gods, he felt worse now than he had last nocte!

"I am at your call,
gentle
femina."

He made a move to climb to his feet, and the effort stimulated a paroxysm of coughing. For a long, heart-stopping moment, Brace couldn't catch his breath. His abused abdominal muscles clenched, twisted. He wrapped his arms about himself in a futile effort to control the pain.

That made it worse. He doubled over and began to retch.

In spite of herself, Marissa experienced a small twinge of pity. There was no time for any of this, but reality being what it was, they weren't going anywhere until he was ready. With a weary sigh, she knelt beside him and tilted back his head. He was pale and clammy-skinned.

She lifted a domare-hide flask of water to his lips. "Here, drink, but in small sips. It'll ease that cough."

Her voice softened. "And then we
must
be on our way."

Greedily Brace swallowed the proffered water, then shook his head, the action dejected and despairing. "I-I haven't the strength," he gasped. "Leave me. Get away before it's too late."

"Foolish male. I'm not going anywhere without you. I told you beforeI need your help in rescuing my sister."

Marissa allowed him one more swallow before recapping the flask and slinging it over her shoulder. "Now, if I get you to your feet, can you make it to the skim craft over there?"

"S-skim craft?" Brace lifted his head to scan the enclosure. "You . . . you really have a skim craft?"

"Yes," she muttered wryly. "I stole it earlier. I'm no fool; that was part of my plan from the start. And desperation makes one quite resourceful."

She slid her hands around his chest and looked her fingers behind his back to aid him in standing. "Now, enough of the explanations. It's past time we were out of here."

Out of here
. Exhilaration surged through Brace, fueling, for a few secundae, his meager supply of strength. With Marissa's help, he struggled to his feet and staggered the short distance beyond the ruins to the small skim craft. He sank down in the passenger's seat with an exhausted sigh.

Marissa climbed in beside him, flipped a few levers, and punched in the preflight commands. The engine whirled to life. She glanced over at Brace. He'd begun to shiver again in the cool, early morning air. Marissa sighed and programmed in the force field bubble.

With a low hum the field encompassed them, effectively shutting out the chill breeze. Marissa returned her attention to the craft's control panel and punched in the take-off command. The relative wind-breaking abilities of the bubble would have to do until they could reach her stash of supplies in the distant mountains. With that, she forgot Brace Ardane and concentrated her efforts on getting them away from there.

As the craft rose in the air and headed off into the desert, Brace slowly opened his eyes. The rising sun bathed the little Moracan's features in a lavender-rose light. Her long, curling chestnut tresses glinted with a sparkling halo, and the faintest glimmer of a smile touched her lips. He was struck with the surprising realization of how lovely she was. A lovely, mouthy little bundle of trouble . . .

Utter exhaustion flooded him with the force of a surge tide. Brace groaned and promptly lost consciousness.

They ran out of fuel just short of the mountains. Angry expletives, rather than the sudden lack of engine noise, woke Brace from a deep, dreamless sleep. He forced his gritty eyes open a crack. In the light of a setting sun, Marissa stood beside the skim craft with arms akimbo.

A renewed string of curses failed to elicit any fresh life in the machine. She strode over to Brace.

''We'll have to walk. Are you up to it?"

He shot her a weary smile. "I'll have to be. I'm just grateful the skim craft . . . got us this far."

His glance moved to the flask hanging at her side. "A swallow of water might help, though."

Silently Marissa handed Brace the container and watched him drink. He was a strange one, she mused. If the tales regarding the cause of his sentencing were true, what kind of male would submit willingly to imprisonment over some nebulous principle of honor? An impractical waste of time and energy, to her thinkingespecially in an Imperium such as theirs. Self-preservation was all that mattered. Only a fool thought otherwise.

She scanned him. Incarceration had done little to mar his splendid physique. True, he was thin, but his tall, broad-shouldered form was indicative of vast power and awesome virility. A warrior's bodyand just what she needed. It would take timetime she was loath to spareto build him back to his former strength, but Marissa had little choice.

Her eyes narrowed. What did he look like beneath his unkempt, filthy appearance and bloated face? She shoved the question firmly aside. He'd serve his purpose whether handsome or ugly. In the end, all that counted was that Ferox was willing to trade him for her sister.

A grudging pity lanced through her. Better that she'd never involved Ardane in this. Things would have been so much simpler without him. But there had never been any choice. Rescuing Candra was all that mattered, even if it required sacrificing this male's life in the bargain.

Brace lowered the flask after several deep, satisfying swallows. Noting her close scrutiny, he arched a quizzical brow.

"What's wrong now?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all." Marissa held out her hand for the flask. "It's time to be going, but first I need to bury the skim craft in the sand. There's no sense in leaving a trail."

He climbed out. Noting his trembling weak- ness, Marissa sighed. She didn't dare let Ardane squander a bit of his meager strength, not if they were to make it to the safety of the mountains.

"Sit and rest while I hide the craft." She gestured toward a spot several meters away.

"I . . . I can help."

She rolled her eyes. "You're in no shape to risk additional exertion. Besides, I'm not helpless, so spare me the masculine heroics."

His mouth lifted in a swollen, lopsided grin. "I noticed that, sweet femina."

"I'm
not
your sweet femina! This is a business arrangement and nothing more."

He studied her for a long moment. "You don't like men, do you?"

"No," came the flat reply.

Brace shrugged and headed to the spot Marissa had indicated earlier. "Well, I suppose deep affection," he threw over his shoulder, "was never a prerequisite . . . for a 'business arrangement.' "

She snorted in disdain, then moved back to stand beside the skim craft. Leaning over, Marissa punched down a small blue button on the control panel and held it in.

"Stand back," she ordered. "This will only take a few secundae."

With that, Marissa released the button and jumped away. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, with a high-pitched whine, the skim craft began to vibrate and sink slowly beneath the sand. Brace's features twisted in a wry grimace. "I see you managed to steal a military skim craft. They're the only ones equipped with a burrowing mechanism."

"So, what of it?"

"The theft of a Bellatorian military vehicle of any kind means an automatic death sentence. You'd have done well to steal a civilian skim craft. Then, if you were caught, you'd have only lost the first three fingers of your right hand."

Marissa rolled her eyes. "A small consolation, to be sure."

She paused. "Any additional helpful comments, or can I finish covering the craft?"

"None for the moment, sweet femina."

Her mouth tightened briefly, then she turned back to the skim craft. A half hora later they were again plodding toward the mountains, their progress slowed by the deep sand and Brace's unsteady gait. After several stumbles, Marissa was forced to lend assistance to keep him upright.

She moved to his side. "Here, hold on to me."