Crystal Fire (31 page)

The setting mirrored his own feelings. Feelings of anguish at his helpless frustration, at the part he'd played, however unwillingly, in causing Marissa such pain. Sweat dampened his brow and his fists clenched knuckle-white at his sides. But still Brace stood there, his gut twisting with the effort it took not to leave the room and seek her out in the garden. Rodac moved to stand beside him.
Go to her
, he motioned.
She needs you
.

"You're mistaken, my friend. She
doesn't
need or want me," Brace replied stonily. "I'd only make her angry, forcing my attentions upon her. It'll never work unless she comes to me."

The Simian shook his head.
You humanoids are all alike. So caught up in self-appointed rules of conduct and misguided honor that you can't get past them to what really mattersthe alleviation of another's suffering
.

Brace quirked a sardonic brow. "Oh, and you Simians do things differently, do you?"

On Arbor, when one Simian hurts another, they beg pardon in the most abject way, crawling to the offended one on hands and knees, groaning their regret and sorrow. It works every time
.

"If I did that to Marissa, she'd laugh me to shame and pronounce me mad." Brace sighed. "I'm sorry, Rodac. What works on Arbor doesn't work here."

The tall alien shrugged.
Perhaps not, but there's always room for improvement
. He motioned in Marissa's direction.
Do you mind if I try?

Brace shot him an incredulous look. "And what's this? A show of concern for Marissa?"

Rodac grinned.
She grows on you
.

"Then have at it." Brace looked back out the window, his features bleak with despair. "You're bound to have more luck than I. Anyone would."
Thanks for your vote of confidence
. Rodac ambled from the room.

Brace watched until he saw the Simian enter the garden and head toward Marissa. Then he turned away.

She never heard Rodac's approach and jumped when he lowered himself to sit beside her on the bench. Marissa glanced over in surprise. She must either be getting used to his rank scent, not to have smelled him coming, or be so mired in her personal misery that her warrior's abilities had ceased to function. Either way, it boded ill. Self-disgust, then anger, filled her.

Marissa glared at him. "What do you want? Are you so bored with the inactivity that you came down to torment me? If so, you'll find me singularly disappointing. I haven't the energy nor inclination to rise to your baiting."

You're tearing him apart. He loves you
.

She started, gazing at him in incredulity. For a fleeting instant anguished longing twisted within Marissa's breast, a longing for Brace's arms about her, for his mouth slanting hotly over hers.

Then she shoved it aside. It was too much to deal withthe choice of Brace over Candra. The agonizing realization of his weakness. And now, thanks to Ferox's cruel manipulations, that all-consuming hunger for revenge.

"He's a male," Marissa said bitterly. "He loves all females. But his commitment to them is as shallow as the shifting sands of Malabre. And just as dangerously unstable."

She turned to face Rodac. "He's not strong enough for this quest. He'll never be able to defeat the Knowing Crystal. He hasn't the courage nor strength of mind it will take. And I'm afraid, Rodac. So very, very afraid."

Afraid for you or for him?

Marissa stared at the Simian for a long moment. Then she sighed.

"I don't know. I truly don't know."

Brace is a good man, even for a Bellatorian. And he's one of the bravest men I have ever known. You are wrong to doubt him
.

"And I say you are blind," she retorted hotly. "His night terrors alone are enough to drag anyone down. And now the Crystal's trying to drive him mad. Do you imagine those attempts will lessen the closer we draw to it?"

Rodac shrugged.
You're right, of course. He's not strong enough to defeat the Knowing Crystal. No one would be; not alone, at any rate. He needs you, Marissa
.

She rose to her feet in one angry surge. "By all that is sacred! The Knowing Crystal is Brace's problem. He's the Crystal Master, not me! I'm along on this quest solely to kill Ferox!"

A smile quivered at the corner of the Simian's mouth.
Are you, Marissa?

"What in all the heavens do you mean by that?"
You can't turn your back on Brace any more than you could your sister
.

"That's not true!"

It
is
true. Admit it. You still love Brace
.

"No . . . no." She fiercely shook her head. "That's over . . . dead."

No, it's not, and that frightens you, doesn't it? Just as much
, Rodac added,
as your lifelong battle over your worthiness to even
be
loved
.

She shot him a wide-eyed, wary look. "You can't know that. You can't know what's in my mind!"

I'm not without some skills of observation. I've seen your battle, a battle that finally came to a head when your sister died
. Rodac grinned.
I may be a hairy bag of bones, but I'm not stupid
.

The faintest glimmer of a smile curved Marissa's lips. "No, I see that now."

Hesitantly she touched his arm. "I begin to see a lot now.
I
was the stupid one, to treat you so cruelly. I am sorry."

It's of no import. We all came into this with our biases. I despised all humanoids, saw them only as a means to further my own personal gain. You and Brace helped change that. Now, I consider you both as friends
.

Marissa smile widened. "And I, you."

Then hear me now as a friend
, Rodac's hands moved quickly.
You can always love and honor your sister's memory, but you cannot sacrifice your own life and happiness to heror anyoneanymore. There's a quest to be fought and won. There's no time left to wallow in self-pity. But
it's your choice, Marissa. It's always been your choice
.

"My choice," she whispered. "You make it sound so simple."

It can be, if you've sufficient courage. We all have battles to fight if this quest is to succeed. Yours is to learn to trust and lovenot only others, but yourself. Brace's is to face his personal demons, to heal himself
.

"And yours?" Marissa asked. "What is your battle, Rodac?"

To put up with both of you while you muddle through it all, and not go mad in the process
.

"Sounds like yours is the hardest battle of all," she chuckled.

My thoughts exactly
. Rodac patted her hand, then rose.
I hope this has helped
.

Marissa nodded, her expression suddenly solemn. "It has. I've a lot to mull over."

And Brace. What will you do about Brace?

Her lips trembled and she looked away. "II don't know." Marissa's eyes met his, and the look that burned there was determined. "But I won't fail him when he needs me, that much I swear. As for the rest, I just . . . don't . . . know."

It's enough. If you stand by him as you say you will, the rest will come
. He turned to go, then hesitated, glancing back at her.
Will you talk to Brace? Make peace between you?

"Yes," Marissa whispered achingly. "I'll talk to him . . . soon."

The decision to speak with Brace did not come easily. Marissa spent the rest of the sol and into early evening in her room, agonizing over what to do. Though she knew that peace must be made if there were to be any hope of success, she found herself wavering between her fierce determination for revenge and her doubts over Brace's ability to bear up to the demands of the quest. In the end, the only surety was that Ferox must die. It was the only way to avenge her sister and assuage some of the tormenting guilt of her death.

Marissa knew this with a cold, dispassionate knowledge as she once more wound the coils of self-protection about her heart. Despite Rodac's conviction to the contrary, there was no room for love or concern for Brace on this quest. Love was too complicated an emotion for one such as she. And nothing she dared go to battle with.

What she needed now was unfeeling logic and the warrior's skills that had always stood her in good stead. Those she could trust, knew how to handle, and knew would give her strength. The other emotions, like love and tenderness, would only weaken her for the fearfully difficult task ahead.

Yet after all that had happened, after all she and Brace had shared, it was difficult to become the cold-hearted woman she'd been beforea woman she now hardly knew, or wanted to be. But someone had to be strong and sure. In the end, it could save Brace's life.

Guilt surged through Marissa as a plan formed. She shoved the uncomfortable feeling aside, centering her thoughts on the reality of the situation.

Candra would still be alive if Brace had been stronger. As painful as it was to admit, Marissa's lust for a male had clouded her judgment. Clouded it once, but never again. She must
never
allow that to happen again. It would be fatal to them all.

The plan, shameful as it was, once more insinuated itself into Marissa's mind. In the end, it mattered not what she truly felt. What mattered was what Brace
thought
she felt. And if the certainty of her love gave him strength, a strength he so desperately needed . . .

With a sigh, Marissa walked over to gaze out the window. Bright facets of light twinkled in the blackened sky. The faded crescent of Moraca's single moon glimmered in the distance . . . comforting, familiar.

She stared at it all in wonder. When had the sol fled? She must have been deep in thought for horas. It was surely time for the supper meal.

Marissa considered going down to join the others, then cast the idea aside. She couldn't face Brace just yet. She needed a little more time to gird herself for the distasteful task aheada task even Ferox had seemed to have sensed would eventually be hers.

His cruel, mocking voice came back to haunt Marissa, crueler now in this moment of fulfillment. ''. . . the perfect opportunity," he'd said, a bitter, knowing look in his eyes, ". . . working the ageless deceit of a woman's love . . ."

Marissa turned from the window and the pristine, uncomplicated beauty of the nocte.

Marissa's place at the supper meal was noticeably empty. Brace's gaze met Rodac's as he took his own seat at the table. The alien merely shrugged, then dug into his mess of stewed vegetables with a gusto that belied its lack of meat.

Brace sat there for a few secundae staring at his own plate as if it had suddenly grown a face. Raina and Olim's gazes slanted in his direction, returned to their own food, then slanted again when curiosity once more got the best of them. Finally, with a low curse, Brace shoved back from the table and strode out of the room.

All eyes riveted on Rodac. He smirked, then motioned,
He needs to talk with Marissa
, before resuming his meal.

Raina rolled her eyes and sighed. "Lovers! How illogical can one get?"

Your turn will come
, Rodac's hands echoed snidely his knowing grin.

The red-haired Sodalitas grimaced. "Not likely, alien!"

Rodac laughed out loud, if a staccato series of grunts could be called laughter.

The strange sound echoed in the big room, carrying down the hall that led to Marissa's bedchamber. Brace, well aware it was the Simian version of laughter, wondered what could possibly be so amusing as to stimulate Rodac's unique sense of humor. Then he brushed further speculation aside as he stopped outside Marissa's room. More serious issues were at hand and he needed all his powers of concentration if he were to deal successfully with them.

What would he say to Marissa? What would be best received? One way or another, he meant to have the animosity between them settled. On the morrow, if Marissa felt up to it, the quest must resume. There was indeed a lot to be decided. But first they must begin to talk again, to trust.

A firm knock pulled Marissa from her thoughts. By all that was sacred, she cursed in rising irritation, why must she be interrupted now, when she'd all but gathered the necessary courage to confront Brace and put her plan into action?

She rose from her bed and headed toward the door. There was no help for it. She was just going to have to face him and let things fall where they would. Let nature, so to speak, take its course.

Marissa paused with her hand on the door handle, struggling for self-composure. Then she plastered a smile on her face for her unknown visitor and pulled open the door.

"How may I help?" At the sight of Brace standing there, further words fled.

"May I come in?" he asked quietly. "I need to talk with you."

She stared at him a moment longer, then stepped aside. "Please." She choked out the single word. "Please, come in."

He followed her in and over to the small hearth fire that warmed the room. Marissa sat down in one of the chairs and motioned for him to take the other.

Brace shook his head. "I'd prefer to stand."

"As you wish."

Let him do what he chooses, Marissa thought. It would take more than his towering over her to sway her from what must be saidand donethis nocte. She opened her mouth to speak when Brace cut in.

"Are you well enough to set out on the morrow?"

Startled by this unexpected query, Marissa stared up at him. Inexplicably, his question angered her. Is that all he cared for, then? Whether or not she was strong enough to resume the quest? Not "How are you, Marissa?" or "Couldn't we be friends again?"

She caught herself, bemused by the illogic of her reaction. Here she was, determined to be coldly rational in her impending seduction of him, knowing it was vital to the rebuilding of his self-confidence and the outcome of
her
quest, yet at the same time expecting warmer emotions from him. Marissa brushed aside the small twinge of anxiety his coolness stirred. He'd love her again when she was through with him. There was no need to worry.