Hostage (23 page)

“Think you’d get away from me, did you, Raphael? Not a chance. I’m far too competitive to let you do that.”

“I let you catch me.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I can escape if I want to.”

“Again… yeah, right. No way am I going to let you escape me.” Until that moment they had both been grinning, panting from the exertion, and laughing, but suddenly Rowan’s grin faded as he stared into Astrin’s eyes. Astrin’s smile faltered.

Rowan was sitting astride him, holding his wrists behind his head, so their faces were close enough for Rowan to feel Astrin’s breath.

“What?”

Rowan’s eyes devoured Astrin’s face, and he began to squirm. Rowan said, in a very low voice, “I’m not going to let you escape, Astrin.” Then he whispered, “Not ever.”

Astrin’s face showed first surprise, then confusion, then something that looked like anger. He pursed his lips and turned his head. “Get off me, Rowan,” he said quietly but with an edge to the words.

Rowan paused, assailed by emotions he couldn’t put a name to. Something was going on, and it was driving him crazy, but he didn’t know what it was, and he certainly didn’t know how to handle it. All he knew was that, for an instant—for a brief moment—when he was looking into Astrin’s eyes he almost… very nearly… sort of felt like he maybe… could almost have let himself… kiss him.

Feeling half-afraid, half-shocked, and quite disgusted with himself, Rowan leaped lightly to his feet, releasing Astrin. He had no idea what to do. For a while Astrin remained where he was, lying in the dirt and staring at the sky, then he got to his feet, dusted himself down, and strode off along the path without saying a word.

Rowan followed, his mind racing. Did Astrin know? Had he been able to tell from something in his face? Had he read his mind? Oh hell, he’d forgotten he could do that. Well, good luck to him. If Astrin knew what was going on in there, maybe he could explain. Why had he done this… again? Every time they really started getting along, feeling comfortable with each other, he had to go and do something stupid to spoil it. Rowan could have kicked himself.

Astrin didn’t slow down, look around, or speak a word until they reached the dock, then without turning to look at Rowan, he asked, “Which one is it?”

“Umm….” Rowan took the key out of his pocket and checked the number on the fob against the numbers on the posts marking the berths. “That one.” He pointed at a hover that was of good quality but somewhat well used. Rowan was pleased. Anything too new and shiny would immediately have given them away. No mercenary would be seen dead in one of those, even if they could afford it, as it simply stood out too much. Understatement was the order of the day for mercenaries. Never draw attention to yourself.

Without waiting for Rowan, Astrin slipped off the quay and onto the hover. Rowan pressed the button on the key to open the roof, and Astrin disappeared inside. With a sigh, Rowan followed.

P
ORT
H
OME

F
OR
A
two-man hover, it was quite spacious inside. The steering console was in the center of the floor between two very comfortable leather seats. To either side of the seats, under the 360-windows, were cupboards, a small refrigerator, and a solar heater. On top of the cupboards was a solar-heated hob on which they could cook if need be.

After a cursory exploration, they discovered the cupboards were well stocked with enough supplies for a week at sea. Rowan reached immediately for a cold beer. He had an idea he wasn’t going to enjoy this journey very much.

Astrin eschewed the alcohol and sipped some bottled water as he stood beside his seat, staring out across the water.

“Do you want to drive?” Rowan asked. Astrin shrugged noncommittally. “Okay… I’ll do it, then, shall I?”

Rowan didn’t even try to keep the irritation out of his voice, and Astrin half turned, looking at him over his shoulder. However, he said nothing and turned back to the window as Rowan slotted the key into the console and pressed the button to start the generator. This created the kinetic energy that allowed them to float above the surface of the water, skating across it as if they were driving a car on the road.

Swiftly Rowan set the coordinates for Port Home and manually steered the craft away from the dock. Once out in open water, he switched to automatic and let the hover steer itself as he sat back in his seat and sipped his beer, watching Astrin ignore him.

He wondered what was going on inside Astrin’s mind. It was hard enough to tell at the best of times. Surely he hadn’t said or done anything wrong? There was no way Astrin could have known what he was thinking. It’s not as if he’d acted on it… so why was he behaving so oddly?

Closing his eyes, Rowan concentrated on the beautiful, silvery spider web with its captured stars and allowed his thoughts, carefully controlled, to flow into the matrix.

“Is there any particular reason you’re giving me the cold shoulder, or are you just pissed that I caught you?”

Astrin jumped and spun round, his eyes wide. “I forgot you could do that.”

“Yes, I can do this. I told you, I’m a fast learner. So, are you going to ignore me for the whole journey, or are we going to use the time for some more instruction?”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable having you inside my mind.”

Rowan frowned. “Why not? What have I done?”

Astrin stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. “Nothing. You haven’t done anything.”

“Then why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not, I…. It’s just…. You looked….” Astrin sighed and ran a hand through his glorious hair.

It’s catching the light reflecting through the glass, and
—

“See? You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“You’re looking at me, like… as if….”

“As if what?”

Astrin shook his head and sat down, staring at the bottle of water he was twirling in his hands.

“If I’ve done something wrong,” Rowan said, “tell me what it is. At the moment, I’m pretty confused.”
Hell yeah… how true is that?
“It seems to me that one minute we were having fun, then the next you were snarling at me and running away. Did I hurt you? Did I—?”

“No. It’s not that. It’s just… It’s….”

“It’s what?”
No better form of defense than attack
, Rowan thought, although he felt somewhat guilty about the confused and distressed expression on Astrin’s face. He knew full well what Astrin was thinking, what he’d seen, but there was no way he was going to admit it… not now, not ever.

Astrin raised his eyes and frowned at Rowan. “It’s just… just the way you said it. The way you said you were never going to let me escape. It made me feel… feel as if… as if you….”

“I was only kidding around, Astrin. You’re not my captive anymore and never will be again. We’re going to make damn sure we’re never on opposite sides of a war again… right?”
Deflect attention. Change the subject. Avoid the issue.

“Yes. Yes of course we are. I…. You…. Rowan, you weren’t thinking of…? I mean you didn’t…? You weren’t going to…?”

“Astrin, my friend, I’m beginning to fear you’ve completely lost your mind. You’re not making any sense at all.”

“No. I don’t suppose I am.” Astrin gave Rowan a searching look that made him squirm; then he squared his shoulders. “It’s just that I’ve felt a couple of times that there’s something going on. Something… weird between us, and it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t want it to ruin our friendship, and I really do think of us as friends, good friends, but… I just need you to know that… that I’m not… that… it’s just friends, you know?”

Rowan frowned, then said, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“That’s okay. I’ve said it, and it’s… understood, I think. So now maybe we can forget it.”

“Fine by me.”

“So, maybe we should…. Do you want to, you know… explore?” Astrin closed his eyes and shook his head, exasperated with himself. “I
meant
explore your abilities some more, while we have time.”

“Yes, that makes sense.”

Still, they just sat and stared at each other for a long, drawn-out moment until Rowan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay… so about this vibration thing… what can I do with that?”

Over the next two and a half hours, they threw themselves into an animated discussion and brainstorming session about possibilities for the various subtle—and not so subtle—uses of Rowan’s abilities. It helped considerably to dispel the lingering awkwardness between them.

It did not, however, dispel the feeling of dread that had settled like cinders in Rowan’s stomach. Despite his denial, he’d known
exactly
what Astrin was talking about, and every word had cut him like a knife. It wasn’t as if he’d even wanted to… at least not intended to… and he certainly didn’t feel that he was… but to have it spelled out that he couldn’t, was… hard. For some reason he couldn’t, or wouldn’t comprehend, it hurt.

About two miles away from Port Home, Rowan had to take over steering again because the traffic was getting heavy. Port Home was a very busy port with many craft coming in and out: hovers, skimmers, water bikes, ships, and even a few old-fashioned boats—either sailing vessels or old motorboats with converted solar-powered turbines. With piracy rife there was a heavy presence of shiny black hovers, lying low in the water, barely visible until you were almost on top of them. They were ostensibly policing the port and its surrounding areas, but in fact they were patrolling the borders.

Rowan and Astrin negotiated into the port with little trouble and docked at a berth on the very edge of the marina. This was the “poor end,” of course, but that was only to be expected for new young mercenaries without too much money who did not want to draw attention to themselves.

Trying to disguise their nervousness, they made their way toward the main commercial area and were stopped by armed guards demanding to see their papers. They spent a tense few minutes while the guards examined the papers intently and passed them around between themselves, speaking fluently in their own language. Neither Rowan nor Astrin understood more than a few words of what was being said, which made them uncomfortable.

“What do you think they’re saying?”
Rowan asked nervously.

“I think they’re saying—look at those two saps, they’re so wet behind the ears they’re getting soggy just standing there. Let’s have some fun and scare the shit out of them.”

Rowan stifled a smile, and one of the guards picked up on it.

“What do you find so funny?” snapped a brute of a man, with arms you could hang a swing off.

“Um… nothing. Nothing, I was just… thinking,” Rowan trailed off, and the man glared at him.

“Thinking, in Port Home, can be a dangerous occupation, especially for someone from your Houses. Perhaps you’ve not heard, but the situation is a little…
tense
at the moment. So I would strongly advise you to keep your heads down and show respect where it’s due.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful.”

Another of the guards was staring at Astrin with a strange expression in his squinting, shifty eyes. Both boys stood still as he strolled toward them and circled behind.

Rowan glanced at Astrin, who ignored him and continued to stare straight ahead, as if concentrating hard on something behind the guards.
“Why don’t you do something? Can’t you influence them, make them feel like letting us go?”

“No. Don’t try to use your abilities.”

“Why not?”

“Tell you later.”

“What’s your business in Port Home?”

“We’ve been engaged in… an endeavor for… a… patron who resides here,” Astrin stammered, as though struggling with the mercenary code, which dictated that no one was to give, or be required to give, the details of their current mission or the person who had “commissioned” them.

“You’ve not been in the business very long.” It wasn’t a question, but Rowan answered anyway.

“No. I admit… we haven’t. In fact this is our first proper mission, and we’re pretty much pissing our pants. Does that make you happy?”

The guard who’d been circling them stopped behind Astrin and brushed his hair back over one shoulder.

Astrin went stiff but didn’t turn as the man leaned in and whispered into his ear. “I know what will make
me
happy.”

Astrin swallowed hard, his eyes wide, then jerked as the guard grabbed his arse. Rowan’s hand went to the handle of his gun, and things could well have turned nasty if another guard, clearly of a higher rank, had not appeared from the guardhouse at the side of the quay.

“Is there a problem here?”

The guard who’d been harassing Astrin jumped back as if Astrin’s arse were suddenly caustic. He joined his fellows under the piercing gaze of their commander.

“No, sir. Just two young mercenaries on their first visit to Port Home. We were enlightening them on the dangers that might lie in wait for two such…
pleasant
young men.”

“Dangers like Barratt, you mean?” the commander said, holding his hand out for the papers. After scanning them briefly, he handed them back to Rowan and motioned them onward.

“Try to stay out of trouble. Get your business done and don’t hang around.”

“But why…?” Rowan began.

“Yes, sir. We will, sir,” Astrin said, taking Rowan by the arm and steering him away from the guards, who watched them go.

“But he had no right…,” Rowan muttered as Astrin hauled him off the quay and into the busy street.

“Rowan, we’re supposed to be unobtrusive and not draw attention to ourselves. We’ve barely set foot off the boat and we have guards fighting over us. That’s hardly staying under the radar, is it?”

“Fighting over your arse, you mean?”

Astrin glared at him.

“So what was the deal with not using our abilities? We could have got out of it a lot easier if you’d influenced them.”