Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine (30 page)

Belsas stopped midstep to face her. “I haven’t been there much lately, have I?”

Chandrey looked down and away to shield her sad face from her lover. “You’ve been on post day and night since—”

“Well, I’m not now.” Belsas lifted her, holding her suspended at arm’s length.

“What are you doing?” exclaimed Chandrey in midspin above Belsas’s head.

“I’m giving both our spirits something to nibble on.”

“Everybody’s watching!”

“So? Since when is it wrong for a guardian to show her lady a little affection?” Belsas spun her around one more time then set her lightly down. “Let’s grab a quick breakfast and take it back to our launch. It seems ages since we last talked.”

“Or anything else,” Chandrey snipped as they entered the canopy where the morning meal was being served.

“That too can be remedied, my dear woman.” Belsas held open the tent flap. They waited their turn in the serving line then, food in hand, walked back to their launch.

It was a simple but nourishing meal, the Training Grounds having provided a generous supply of fresh fruits for their consumption.

“You’ll have to thank Yeoman Qualls for her thoughtfulness.” Chandrey finished off a slice of peeled green melon. The succulent round fruit was her favorite, and she took it whenever it was offered, which was never often enough for her tastes. Belsas had chosen two of the small, pale-fleshed vine plums to accompany her bread and tea.

“I will, as soon as all of this is over.”

Chandrey clasped her mug. “When? When will it be over?

We’ve searched two days for some sign of a crash site. I would give anything for one clue, something, any piece that would let us put LaRenna to rest.”

Shhhh
. Belsas pushed a calming pleasure phase
. I know this is hard and Mother knows I haven’t been any help. You should have been my priority from the beginning.
A second, stronger phase followed the first, bringing a sensual glow to Chandrey’s worried face.

We’re in mourning.

Mourning, yes, Chandresslandra Belsas. Dead, no. I need you desperately right now and I think you need me, too.
Belsas set their mugs to the side then pulled Chandrey close, kissing her ear and her neck before dropping to one knee to kiss her upturned palm. Shivering at the incredible sensation the touch created, Chandrey allowed herself to be pulled across Belsas’s lap then lowered to the launch’s floor, welcoming the surrounding warmth their pleasure phase offered. Each knew exactly what the other enjoyed, what the other needed. Thirty passes together had made the physical manipulations of lovemaking unnecessary for satisfaction, but Belsas sometimes asked for them, as she did now, smiling down at Chandrey through the joy that encased them. Chandrey swatted Belsas’s dangling braids from her face until they finally tickled out an uncontrollable sneeze at the peak of their lovemaking.

“I’m sorry.” Chandrey wiped the moisture from Belsas’s face. Belsas’s nose wrinkled when it was touched and she returned the sneeze.

“Confounded rain,” she griped. “It’s given everyone the sniffles.” Belsas tried to hold back another, but caught Chandrey full in the face. “Oops.”

“You meant to do that.” Chandrey laughed as she cleaned her face on Belsas’s tunic. “Get off me, you beast. You’ve made a proper mess of my skirts.”

“Are you complaining?” Belsas pulled a rolled jumpsuit from their baggage. “Forget the skirts and put this on. It will be easier to manage in the mud.”

“You know I don’t wear trousers.”

Belsas held out the jumper insistently. “Times are changing. LaRenna wore them whenever she could.”

“LaRenna was Kimshee. They always do things out of the norm.”

“Make an exception. We’re heading out.”

Chandrey removed her skirts and shouldered the oversized coveralls. The garment was cut for Belsas and hung loosely. She rolled the legs and sleeves until they fit then retied the mourning sash about her middle. “Where to? I thought you were staying in camp?”

“Sometimes,” replied Belsas softly, “even the Taelach of All has to bend the rules a little. It makes little sense for me to sit here waiting until someone else finds my daughter. Krell didn’t.”

“Krell refuses to wear a sash,” retorted Chandrey.

Belsas cocked her head. “Maybe Krell senses something we can’t. LaRenna’s talents are still developing.”

“
Were
developing,” cried Chandrey despairingly. “I refuse to raise my hopes otherwise.”

“Nonetheless, we’re going to start our search where Krell’s group was looking when they disappeared. We’ll follow them.”

“We need a third for a team.” Chandrey tacked up her hair with a long-toothed comb from her bag. “How about Malley Whellen? She seems good on her feet.”

Belsas grinned at her. “You read my mind.” They exited the launch, pausing long enough to put on their cloaks and exchange a quick kiss. Belsas jumped across the scattered puddles with an energetic bounce Chandrey hadn’t seen in some time. She joined her lover’s play, springing across the water spots easily, but without the same level of long-legged grace.

They crossed the encampment until they reached the stores tent. Belsas spoke momentarily with the sentry then ducked inside while Chandrey waited. She quickly emerged with ropes, three plasma bows, and recharge packs. “I’ll find Whellen. Why don’t you get us some rations?” Belsas passed Chandrey a bow and charger. “Meet me back here as soon as you’re ready.”

“Who’re you leaving in command?” Chandrey knotted her bow’s ties.

“I’ll bring Protocol Master Quall in to supervise until we return. She runs a tight operation.”

“What about the two dead and one missing on team four?”

Belsas appreciated the forethought. “I’ll have the other teams keep an eye out for the missing third. It was probably an unfortunate accident. However, I’ll have all teams go armed from this point.” She bent down to give Chandrey another quick kiss on the forehead. “Hurry now. Time is wasting.”

Chandrey watched as Belsas disappeared into the main communications tent, then turned toward her next task, shaking her head. Surely Belsas wasn’t hanging on to the same delusions as Krell. Cance had been worse than anyone remembered. The crash had been too sudden. LaRenna was dead, plain and simple. No amount of denial would ever change that.

Discovery of love lost is the most powerful of healing agents.

—Taelach wisdom

Tatra stood on the edge of the fifth canyon they had encountered that morning. The hole appeared much as the others—a brown, rock-laden gash, oozing with muddy churn. She couldn’t understand how Krell could be so adamant this was where LaRenna was. It was identical to everything else they had seen. She raked her boots over a sharp stone to remove the mud then turned back to where Krell and Firman stood. “Found our location yet?”

Krell glanced over the map and shrugged. “Still looking.”

“It’s not shown.” Firman caught the scroll’s edge when a wind gust pulled it from his grasp.

“Not all the canyons are,” replied Krell. “The Kinship generally doesn’t record the ones containing Hiding Caves. Their locations are passed down orally.”

“Secrets, secrets.” There was an inordinate amount of whimsy in Firman’s voice. “The Kinship is full of them.”

Tatra smoothed back her hair. “If we recorded them, they’d be ransacked for supplies. You know how Auts are.”

“Hey!” Firman caught her by the sleeve. “What do I look like?”

“I wasn’t referring to you in particular.” Tatra’s attempt to cover her blunder only made things worse. “It’s just that as a whole, Autlachs can’t be trusted.”

“Cruel-hearted woman.” Firman stared at her. “I thought we might have something special happening between us and now open bigotry from you!”

“Wait . . . I . . . Krell, help me!”

“Don’t bother.” Firman shrugged her off and stormed over to where their packs rested. He picked up Krell’s and his own, setting them neatly on a rain-washed boulder. Tatra’s he used as a footrest, grinding it into the mud with a vindictive twist of his heels.

“You stepped in it.” Krell’s eyes never left the map. “You can clean it off of your boots—and your pack.”

“Go talk to him,” begged Tatra as Krell stowed the map. “Tell him I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Didn’t you?” She turned away. “You explain yourself. I don’t have to understand you anymore, not that I ever could.” She watched as Tatra tried, in her own lofty-headed way, to explain away what was said.

Krell.
LaRenna’s voice was clear.

LaRenna, darlin’, where are you?
The question rolled so explosively through Krell that she couldn’t differentiate between speech and thought.

Krell.

Tell me where you are and I’ll come to you.

Close.
The impression of a dark opening formed in Krell’s mind. It was one of the Hiding Caves but which one? There were dozensspread across the Glory Land, three or four in each unmarked canyon.

Which one, LaRenna? Which one?
More images came clear: rising floodwaters, cliffs, the marker for a Hiding Cave, then nothing.
Show me where you are.
Still nothing
. LaRenna!

Krell.
LaRenna’s voice was incredibly weak.
Down . . . down.

Down?
Krell’s mind became void of LaRenna’s presence.
Down where? Help me find you. LaRenna?
The mental tie reestablished, but barely.
Hold on my precious bird. My wren
.
I’m coming Wren bird. Hold on!

I love y . . .
LaRenna was gone, leaving the distinct sense of a deep, coma-like sleep . . . no thoughts, no pain, just sleep, sleep necessary to keep her frail body alive.

“I love you, too.” Krell opened her eyes to find Firman and Tatra staring with well-founded concern.

“You were screaming.” Firman gripped his sibling’s shoulder. Krell looked around him to the canyon edge.

“She’s down there, Fir, in a Hiding Cave.”

“We know.” Tatra shuddered. “Everyone on Saria Four knows.”

“Was I that loud?”

“And then some,” answered Firman. “We’ll begin looking as soon as this fog lifts a little.”

Krell ignored him and walked to the canyon brim. “No time. She needs me now.” She looked to the left then right, then disappeared into the fog, moving in a northeasterly direction. But the farther she went, the emptier she felt. “Wrong.” She reversed course, concentrating on LaRenna’s presence until Tatra and Firman came back into view.

“What’s she doing?” Tatra stepped forward.

“I’ve no idea,” replied Firman. “But don’t get in her way.”

“But what if she goes off the side?”

“There’s nothing on her mind right now except LaRenna. Block her path and it may be you who goes off the side.” Firman drew Tatra back by the collar. “Let her be.”

“But she’s babbling!” Tatra pulled loose and rushed forward. Firman snagged her before she had gone three steps, threw her face-first into the mud, and settled his girth across her back. She swore at him, kicking and arching as his knees forced her deeper into the muck.

“Never trust an Aut.” Firman smiled smugly down. “We’ll get you every time you turn your back.”

Tatra hurled a handful of mud over her shoulder, splattering it on his tunic. “Get off me, you moron! Krell’s almost out of sight again!”

“Moron?” Firman admonished her insult with a curt laugh. “Who’s got a dry seat?” He drew his finger across the mud then her nose, leaving a streak. “I’ve wanted to do that since I met you, you self-centered, egotistical tease.”

Tatra flailed all the more, throwing clay every direction, more landing in her own face than on him. “You’re crushing me just like you crushed my bag! GET OFF!”

“Why should I?” He flicked another glob in her face. “You’ll take off after Krell again if I do. Leave her be, Tatra. I’ve a hunch she’ll be back when she needs us.” Firman bounced a couple of times, pushing her deeper into the slop. “Yep, you’re definitely more comfortable than that rock.”

“Yeah, yeah.” After a moment Tatra ceased her thrashing and peered cautiously over her shoulder. “Firman?” she said. “You finished?”

“You going to chase Krell?”

“No.”

“Promise?”

“Firman!”

“Just making sure.” Firman took her hand and carefully lifted her from the mud. “Truce?”

“I suppose.” She flicked a clump of dirt from his chin. “You’re different than any Aut I’ve ever met.”

“Oh, we’re all alike are we?” he teased, withdrawing his grin when she scowled at him. “I’m kidding, Tatra. No, I’m not like most Auts.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a hug. “Above all else, dear woman, I want to be your friend.”

“What if I want to go slow?”

“We go slow.”

“Really slow?”

“It’s a friendship, Tat.”