Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine (6 page)

“We were lucky to get any cabin on this transport,” he replied as he led her to the seat directly across from LaRenna. “You’ll just have to live with it. This little half-grown snit won’t do you or the baby any harm.” The he turned toward LaRenna, revealing the sneer under his wiry mustache. “Will you, girl?”

“Hardly!” LaRenna growled in her deepest voice. Legs curled underneath her body, she scowled out the window, trying to ignore the occasional glares and underhanded comments of her unwanted traveling companions. If this was the type of treatment she could expect, maybe becoming a Kimshee wasn’t such a good idea after all. She desperately hoped there were more like Nyla out there.

Be wary! You never know who your true enemy is.

—Sarian military saying

The Commons were teeming with business when Krell arrived. Hood high against the day, she crept into the dining plaza, taking a quiet corner table. The spindly Autlach waiter spotted his newest customer and disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later carrying a small tray. “It’s been a while, Krell. Where have you been keeping yourself?”

Krell pushed back her hood until it bunched behind her ears then peered up, smiling. “At the base more than is good for my sanity, Russ. What’s for breakfast?”

“Your usual, brown bread and tea.” Russ set a plate on the table then laughed at the crushed expression Krell offered in return. If any one thing gave him pleasure, it was teasing his lankiest customer. “Something wrong?”

“No sweet jams?”

“But of course!” With an exaggerated flourish, he laid a jam pot before her. “I know better than to serve a Taelach bread without sweet jams.” Russ’s eyes twinkled with merriment. “You’re obsessed with sweets, the whole lot of you.”

“We are not.” Krell tried to appear offended while she layered the jam.

“You never see an Aut spread jam like that.”

“It’s not that thick,” she mumbled between bites. “And I’ve never seen an Aut spread jam at all.”

“It’s a good three fingers deep.” Russ cringed. “Ugh! How can you eat that?” He stepped back from the table, ready to steer away from such indigestible conversation. “Now, I’ve worked here enough to know food is never your motive for being here, so what gives? Got a hot date or something?”

Krell had grown accustomed to Russ’s teasing and often enjoyed the opportunity to reciprocate, this time sticking her finger in the jam pot and sucking the sugar-covered digit clean just to see him wince.

“Smartass.” A snarl parted his mouth just enough to show the slight separation between his front teeth. “You know that makes me want to retch.” He snatched up the pot and placed it on a nearby table. “Who’s your date?”

“No date, just business.” Krell waved him way. “But he won’t show if you’re hanging around.”

“He?” Russ continued his caddish teasing. “Seeing Autlachs are we?”

“Now I’m going to retch.” Krell reached for the jam pot.

“All right, I’m going!” Russ thrust his fist to his chest as if stabbed. “I’m heartbroken.” He dabbed his face with his apron tail. One of the cooks witnessed his theatrics and bellowed for him to return to work. Bad enough they’d been forced into serving Taelachs, but did the staff have to call attention to the fact?

“Pity for you, Krell, I’m already taken.”

“Yeah, I know, to an ugly woman who can’t cook.” For once Krell could agree with the opposition. Russ was attracting far too much attention. She kept her tone low , hoping he would take the suggestion. “Go away; I have work to do.”

“Since when?” he snipped.

“I mean it.”

His jovial smile faded. “Serious, aren’t you?”

“As I can be. Don’t you have some work to do?” The cook leaned back out the window, this time launching a long line of obscenities in Russ’s direction.

“At least someone loves me.” He gathered the dishes from Krell’s table and turned, pouting, toward the kitchen. “More tea, first officer?” Now he was overplaying being prim and solemn. So much so, Krell felt guilty for being short.

“Please, and thank you, Russ.”

“Ahh, no harm done.” He disappeared inside, returned briefly to refill her mug, and then left her alone.

Krell was beginning to doubt the lead’s validity when a heavy man in a faded wrap stepped onto the plaza. He squinted around the square then slowly approached. “You Taelach Middle?”

“See any other Taelachs about?” she replied coolly. “Who’re you?”

The man shifted uneasily. “Starnes Bane.”

“Well then, Starnes, you’re late.” Krell pushed the empty chair from the table. “Sit and tell me what you want with the Kinship.”

“I gotta be quick.” Starnes pulled his wrap tighter across his shoulders and glanced around. “If I don’t get back soon they’ll come hunting.”

“Who?”

“The two Taelachs who are holed up at my place.”

Krell eyed him charily. “The only Taelachs registered in this area are myself and a healer.”

“Nah, they wouldn’t register. These two are strange, cruel to be sure. Twins, too.”

A pit formed in Krell’s stomach. The vilest Taelach criminals came from undestroyed twins, but only one set was of recent times and they were acknowledged dead. Her voice remained low. “Twins?”

“Yes, alike in the face with odd markings on their necks.”

Now Krell was certain. “Markings?”

“Sorta moon shaped. Like this.” Starnes held his hand up in a perfect letter C.

Krell nodded and tapped thoughtfully on the table. Belsas Exzal was right, two of the Branded had escaped, and identical looks meant twice the trouble, triple the insanity. “What do you want the Kinship to do about it?”

“Do?” Starnes wheezed. “Do? I want the bitches outta my bar. That’s what I want!”

“Tell me more.” Krell cast Starnes a slow stare that planted a subtle mind phase to check for lies.

“What else is there to tell?” He shrugged. “They’re Taelach, they drink too much, and they’re pure evil coming to an ugly head.” Then he cocked his head and pointed to Krell. “They both had braids like yours, but one of them cut theirs off and dyed”— Starnes hesitated, reforming his next words in an effort to not offend his only chance at assistance—“its hair, tinted its skin, too, but the dye made it sick before it could accomplish a very dark tint. The other one hasn’t tried to change a thing. Hair is real long, sort of a dingy white with a few of those dark streaks your people get as they age. Kinda skinny as well, looks kinda like one of your women,” he scowled, “but it sure as hell isn’t.”

“Taelachs are all women and my type is called guardian, not
it,
” snapped Krell. “And if you wish assistance I suggest—”

“You have my apologies,” stammered Starnes. “But
it
is a better word than most my people use.”

“Point taken. Continue.”

“Neither of them is especially tall to be guardian. That’s what they are though. They’re your kind. You take care of them.”

Krell rested her elbow on her boot top. “They’re not in the Kinship and they’re not supposed to be here. Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Starnes wagged a fat finger toward her. “The one who cut off the braids, Cance is her name, wears brown lenses.” Having seen Cance both in and out of her Autlach disguise, he preferred the lenses. With them, she couldn’t mind-phase him the way she could and did when she wasn’t hiding her telltale blue eyes.

“Look Autlach enough for a passing glance?”

“Does a pretty damn good job of it. Got walking and talking male down to an art.” Starnes drew back when a couple sat down at the next table. If Cance had the means to pass as Autlach there was no telling who else was involved. “Time’s up. You going to help me or not?”

“You know where the Hiring Hall is?”

“Of course,” he said. “But the last thing I need is—”

“Silence. In five days, go to the Hiring Hall and ask for someone who can wait tables and clean up. Be sure to talk to the Assistant Hall Master. He’ll be expecting you.”

“For the love of—”

“You’re not listening.” Krell showed her impatience by drumming her fingers on the table. “Just do it, and make sure you hire a female.”

“Taelach?” he asked hopefully.

“No, Autlach. Her name will be LaRenna. Remember that.” Krell rose from the table and peered at Starnes, who flinched involuntarily. “If you want help, this is what you’ll do.” Krell turned to leave, but halted when the Autlach reached out.

“And what do I tell my unwanted guests about a new employee? Things have been slow.”

“You’re about to have a boom in business.”

This still failed to pacify the barman. “Listen, my father is ill. He’s bedfast. They won’t let me get him treated.”

Krell picked at his head a second time. Again, no deception. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Strong’s Seizures.”

“How long?” Her concern surprised a man used to the unfeeling nature of his current boarders.

“A full moon cycle, maybe a little longer.”

“Strong’s Seizures take two to three cycles untreated to be fatal. Keep him comfortable and I’ll send medicine with your help.” Then Krell reminded him sternly: “Five days. No more, no less.” She threw Russ’s payment on the table and walked away.

“Wait,” implored Starnes, but Krell was gone, lost in the crowds of the Common Grounds. How does one so large disappear so quickly, he wondered, then lumbered toward the market area to make his purchases.

Russ remained by the kitchen window until they had safely departed. He knew of an individual who rewarded handsomely for such information, provided he could locate them. “Sorry, Krell,” he murmured, deep in for the monetary boost heading his direction, “but times are tough and I have children to feed. We all must sacrifice something.”

Taelachs are cunning creatures. They are never where or what you would expect.

—Autlach warning

Krell searched for fair Taelach hair swimming above the sea of dark Autlach heads ebbing from the passenger transport.
Maybe I’m too far back,
she thought and pushed more to the center of the platform. In her haste, she bumped into a small, hooded figure skirting the crowd, knocking it to the ground. “Apologies, friend.” Krell offered an arm in assistance. A delicate, pale hand accepted the gesture and sparkling blue eyes met her own. Krell startled, drawing a quick breath. “Third Kimshee Belsas?”

LaRenna snapped to her feet, dusted herself off, and raised an arm in salute. “Reporting for my post as required. Are you first Kimshee Middle?”

“Yes, uh—” Krell faltered, caught off watch by the unexpected beauty of the slight woman before her. “I’m sorry, but are you sure you’re Kimshee? It’s generally not a— A little small, aren’t you?”

Small? LaRenna thought. Why, I’ll show—

“My guardian raiser says size isn’t what makes one large or small.” LaRenna cringed, hoping that hadn’t sounded as asinine to her superior as it had to her. She wanted to make a point, not alienate herself.

The tall Kimshee only laughed, pushing a smile into the full mouth topping her square jawline. “Yep, that sounds like Belsas Exzal.”

Now LaRenna was startled. “You know my raiser personally, First Kimshee?”

“Know Grandmaster Belsas? Why, I’ve attended every lecture she’s ever given at the Training Grounds and served as her Autlach liaison at several posts as well. Don’t tell me you’re that bright-eyed child who used to tug on everyone’s tunic tails?”

“Guilty as charged, First Kimshee.” LaRenna smiled up bashfully. “I remember you now. You took a youth group I was a member of hiking when I was around eleven.”

“You’re right, and call me Krell. We don’t have time for the formalities or any more small talk. Let’s go.”

They walked quickly across the base. Krell’s strides far outpaced those of the shorter Taelach’s gait so she slowed to a stride LaRenna could maintain. They stopped here and there along the way, Krell indicating points of interest. It was a vast space, as large as Polmel, as populated but cleaner and more simply arranged. Krell told of the recent expansions and apologized for the living conditions. “If it wasn’t so crowded, I would have insisted on private quarters for you. But as it is, and will continue to be, we’re fortunate not to be sharing with an entire sentry squadron. I tried to make the lack of space tolerable, cleared out a few shelves and scrounged up an extra clothing cubicle for you.”

LaRenna appreciated the concern for her personal comfort. “I’m sure it will be adequate,” she said politely, trying not to appear so intimidated by her teacher’s sheer size. Krell was exceedingly tall, even for a guardian. She was muscular as well but in that lean, graceful way Taelachs were known for. “I really didn’t bring that much.”

“So I noticed,” replied Krell with an admiring glance at the top of LaRenna’s generous locks. “But then again, I didn’t to my first post either. Here we are.” She pointed to the housing compound directly ahead. “We’re fourth floor, number four two four.”