Authors: Denise Rossetti
Tags: #Fantasy, #General Fiction, #Science Fiction
“Gods, Dax—” Cool fingers cupped his cheeks and he closed his eyes. Oh yes.
“Here,” said Lise. Vaguely, he was aware of the surface of the desk being cleared,
folders and files being dumped on the floor.
“Don
‟
t mix them up,” said Jan
‟
s silvery tenor.
Lise ignored him. Strong, gentle hands smoothed over the joints of his bad wing,
easing it open with infinite care. “Spread your wing across the desk. Make it easier for
Tril.”
Bugger Trilgeriel. Yes, he needed the healer and his skills, but right now—
Dax snugged his good arm around Lise
‟
s waist, pulled her close and laid his cheek
against the softness of her breast. He inhaled deeply. Gods, that was better. His inner
world steadied, though he could feel the fever roaring through his bloodstream, the
greedy rush of it making him lightheaded.
Slim fingers carded through his hair. Wearily, he let his eyes fall shut. He
‟
d make
his report in a minute, once he
‟
d had a nap with Lise. Footsteps approached from the
passageway.
Over his head, Lise said, “Jan, he says they saw Veryl with the Hssrda. He
‟
s got the
children all right, but it sounds like he hasn
‟
t…interfered with them at all. He—”
There was a small sound from the other side of the room, a kind of strangled
soprano gasp.
Quite distinctly, Dax heard Jan say, “Oh
shit
.”
Interesting, he
‟
d never heard that tone from the security chief before. Not only
rueful, but…
apprehensive
?
Painfully, he lifted his head and levered his eyes open.
129
To make a goodly quantity of
bruisebalm
:
2 pounds of
blistergrass
leaves, stripped,
1 pound
bunrat
lard,
1 half-cup
trintri
kernel oil,
10 drops essential oil of
gaeta
blossom,
Extract from the handwritten notes of Trilgeriel, healer of the Aetherii.
* * * * *
Trilgeriel the healer stood just inside the door, bag in hand. With him were Mirry
and Fledge. Oh, his cousin was back. Good.
The little Grounded was very pale, her eyes wide. “Veryl?” she said. “What
‟
s Veryl
got to do with it?”
Mirry laid a hand on her shoulder. “Now, chick—”
Fascinated, Dax saw her glance from Mirry to Jan and back again. Mirry flushed,
but Jan raised a brow, his face impassive.
Fledge
‟
s soft brown eyes narrowed. “Don
‟
t „now, chick
‟
me.” She set her hands on
her curvy hips. “You look as guilty as hell, both of you. I thought Veryl was long gone.”
“He was,” said Dax helpfully. He felt strange and a little faraway, his head buzzing
as if he were inside a glass bell and someone was hitting it with a tiny hammer, over
and over. “They, ah, sent him to Mother
‟
s Hearth as a pleasure slave. We think taking
the kids is his revenge.”
“Listen, Fledge, he deserved everything he got for the way he treated you.”
Casually, Mirry drifted across the room toward Jan. Reaching the other Aetherii, he
stood so close their shoulders brushed. “We only—”
“By Lufra,” she said, low and hard. “
What did you do?
”
“What was necessary.” There were red spots on Jan
‟
s pale cheekbones. “You were
the lucky one, Fledge. When we found him, he had a string of whores in Valaressa, all
underage, all beaten and starved.” His chin went up. “In any case, it was my decision. I
take responsibility.”
Mirry snorted. “As if.” Their tails came together and twined hard, one tawny, one
black. “I don
‟
t regret it, chick.” Unobtrusively, long fingers curled around Jan
‟
s wrist
and gripped. “It was just and right and I
‟
d do it again.”
130
“The man
‟
s scum, Fledge.” Jan extended a wing and wrapped Mirry in a cloak of
glossy blue-black feathers.
Dax was so absorbed, he was only peripherally conscious of Trilgeriel furrowing
through his plumage to inspect the wounds. Fledge stalked across the room to face the
two Aetherii, though she had to tilt her chin up to do it. Unconsciously, Jan and Mirry
drew even closer, tails entwined.
“Please, Fledge.” Mirry held out a hand.
Fledge reached for him and hung on as if she were drowning or falling out of the
sky.
This was how it worked then, Dax thought muzzily, when you were in love with
two people. This was how Mirry and Jan and Fledge made it work. Lise had moved
away a little, which was a great pity, but he clamped a hand over hers where it rested
on his shoulder and breathed in the fresh, sweet fragrance of her featheroil.
“That hurt?” Tril rotated a wing joint.
“A little,” said Dax absently.
“We did it for the best,” Mirry said.
Fledge dropped his hand so abruptly he flinched. “You concealed it from me,” she
said flatly. “For my own good, I assume?”
She clenched her fists, drawing herself to her full height. “Because I
‟
m too fragile to
be trusted? You patronizing—” She made a growling noise in her throat that would
have been adorable under different circumstances.
Oh
. Dax made another mental note. Trust was the key to any healthy relationship,
he
‟
d seen that with his own parents, but when there were three… Without complete
honesty, the potential for disaster boggled the mind. His heart sank.
Jan cleared his throat. “Ah,” he said. “Well.” With one finger, he stroked the side of
Fledge
‟
s set face. “We
‟
re, ah…” his voice dropped, “sorry, little one.”
“Rip the Veil,” whispered Lise, her voice full of awe. “Did he just—?”
“I make my own decisions, Jan.” Fledge glanced from one handsome face to the
other. “I always have. If you
‟
re so godsbedamn sorry, find the children.”
Turning back to the healer, she effectively dismissed both her lovers. “What do you
need me to do, Tril?”
Dax
‟
s lips quirked. So small and so indomitable. Self-belief in spades, because you
had to know who
you
were to hold your own in a three. He sighed.
“But, chick—” Mirry threw up his hands when Fledge refused to look at him. Hurt
marred the beauty of his perfect face.
Jan shot him a warning glance. “Then we
‟
d better get on with it,” he said. His gem-
hard gaze traveled thoughtfully to Dax. “Start from the beginning,” he said, “and don
‟
t
leave anything out, no matter how trivial.”
131
“At least wait
‟
til I
‟
ve patched him up, will you?” Tril was unimpressed. “Put
pressure on the leading edge here,” he said to Fledge. “You too, Lise. I
‟
m going to have
to sluice these punctures.” Frowning, he extracted a tall brown bottle from the depths of
his bag and followed it up with a roll of bandages so narrow they were more like tape.
“Next time,” he said tartly, “keep the fuck away from Hssrda, all right?”
Dax blinked and tried to smile. “Do my best,” he mumbled. Speaking seemed to
require a very specific effort. A violent shiver rolled up his spine, making his teeth
chatter.
Cool palms cupped his cheeks. Lise
‟
s worried face peered into his. Veil-it, she was
lovely, so strong and right and good. Vaguely, he wondered if he should ask her to hold
on harder in case his head floated right off his shoulders.
“
Tril
,” she demanded. “Godsdammit, do something!”
“Did I or did I not ask you to hold this wing?” the healer said.
A muttered curse, Lise
‟
s warmth disappeared and the pressure on his wing
increased. Dax frowned, wanting her back immediately.
“I
‟
m going to use a concentrated tincture of
bruisebalm
,” Tril said. “It
‟
ll sting a bit.
You ready, Dax?”
Oh hell. He knew what that meant.
Before he had a chance to draw breath, a river of molten acid flowed over his wing,
burning him to the bone. His eyes flew open and his head cleared—fast. “
Nngh
,” he
managed through gritted teeth. “Rip the—”
The two women were battling to hold his wing at the right angle so Tril could
douse it with more of the appalling stuff. Lise bit her lip, her great gray eyes luminous
with unshed tears.
“Hey,” Dax said at once. “I
‟
m…fine.” He clenched his jaw as Fledge and Tril started
the bandaging. “My sire says…I have a constitution…like a
herdbeast
.”
Mirry chuckled. “True, little cousin. And your dearest mama says you
‟
re just as
hard to drive.”
“Never mind all that.” Jan strode forward. “Let
‟
s have your report.”
Lise said, “Can you manage, Fledge? I have to take notes.” She looked every inch
her usual unruffled self, professional to the wingtips, but the ink brush trembled in her
hands like a windblown twig.
Gods, he was hot. Sweat sprang up along Dax
‟
s ribs, in the small of his back. He
wiped his brow and stole another glance at Lise from under his lashes. No, it hadn
‟
t
been fever imaginings. She might be composed now, but just for a second back there,
she
‟
d looked truly frightened—for him.
Greatly cheered, he dug in his pocket. “I got a note from the thief,” he said, waving
the grubby piece of paper. “While I was having lunch.” He looked around hopefully.
“Is there anything to eat?”
132
Tril gave a crack of laughter. “That
‟
s a good sign. Here, take these. Extra-strength
godspeace
.” He handed Dax four huge green pills and snapped his bag shut. “I
‟
m going
back to bed.”
He glared at Jan, bronze-tawny wings mantling with vexation. “Tell your people to
stay away from Hssrda,” he said. “The injuries are a bitch.”
The door closed behind his swishing tail.
“Right,” said Jan briskly. “Lise, you ready?”
Lise settled her wings and poised the ink brush over a fresh page. “Of course.”
“Go on, Dax.”
It seemed to take forever to answer all their questions, to describe every word and
action—both his and Michael
‟
s—in excruciating detail. Voices boomed and receded like
the winds that sang in the high canyons, making it difficult to concentrate.
Anything…personal, he simply left out, acutely conscious of Lise sitting so close, her
brow creased as she wrote. The urge to lean across the desk and smooth that little
furrow with his thumbs was almost irresistible.
When he finally gave in and wrapped his tail around her ankle under the desk, she
didn
‟
t appear to notice, but she didn
‟
t move away. The contact helped and so did the
food Jan sent for, but by the time Mirry asked, “You haven
‟
t seen Hssrda before, have
you, Dax?” his head felt like a balloon, empty and bobbing on its string. It was all very
odd, but it reduced the pain in his wing to a faraway muzzy throb, still there, but not
quite so insistent.
The bread and cheese in his mouth tasted strange, like textured dust. He
swallowed. “No. But Michael…had, I
‟
m sure.”
“You killed one though.”
“Two.”
Mirry
‟
s brows rose. “Impressive. How did you know what to do, where to strike?”
“Looked them up in your…encyclopedia.”
Mirry
‟
s palm slapped the desk. “You see?” A huge grin took him beyond beautiful
to dazzling. “Scholarship proves its worth once again.”
“Hmpf.” Dax clamped his hands against his skull to keep it steady. “Actually, it
was common sense.”
“Veil-it, that
‟
s enough.” Lise threw down her brush. “Look at him! The rest can wait
‟
til he
‟
s slept.”
“We haven
‟
t finished,” said Jan evenly.
“Yes, you have.” Fledge
‟
s small hands patted Dax
‟
s forehead. Concerned brown
eyes peered up into his. “The
godspeace
is kicking in. That was a huge dose, even for
someone Dax
‟
s size.”
Rising on tiptoe, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Dax. I know it meant trusting
the thief, but I
‟
m glad you did. The kids have a chance now.”
133
“It was also incredibly stupid,” said Lise dryly. Pulling his good arm over her