Shadow Hunters (13 page)

Thoughts, Zamara’s and Jake’s, intertwined, interconnected now, flowed gently into Ladranix’s mind. His pale blue eyes widened as Zamara showed him the barest fragment of what Jake—a terran, an alien, not even a protoss—had seen in rich and powerful detail.

“We … did not know,” Ladranix managed. He was stunned. “Al this time … such treasures sat beneath the surface.”

“Treasures, true, and dangers as wel,” Zamara said. “We are protoss. We might be the children of the xel’naga, but we are not them, and their treasures would not be our treasures. So the Conclave ruled long ago, after a brief initial investigation of the caverns.”

“But now, what was hidden away … what was dark … has come to light,” Ladranix said. “First the dark templar, an ancient and shameful secret, have reappeared in our lives. And now this. Can you reveal yet more to us, Zamara? Can you tel us why you must find this technology and take it to our brethren?”

Jake had yet to master the fine art of censoring his thoughts, and what escaped was:
Good luck with that.
He sensed astonishment, affront, and humor in rapid succession from the protoss, and blushed.

“In due time, it wil have to be shared,” Zamara said. “But first … we must do what we came here to do. And that wil mean somehow entering the chambers beneath the earth where the Tal’darim live. In the meantime, we wil join with you and help you as we are able.”

VALERIAN LOWERED THE SWORD, FOR THE FIRST time ever voluntarily pausing during his training. He realized he could not bring his attention to focus on the stance, the whirling of the blade, could not drop into his body. The thought concerned him.
Or maybe,
he mused with a hint of humor as he respectfuly put away the sword and reached for a towel to wipe his face,
I’m learning what it means to actually be
in command.

His father, God knew, certainly had distractions. Valerian had played enough chess and drunk enough port with the man to know that. But Arcturus had never possessed anything like Valerian had with his swordwork—something in which he could wholy lose himself and that belonged to him and no one else; in which al that mattered was being fuly in the moment and striving for his personal best. Now, Valerian was starting to understand why. It was damned difficult to balance the two.

He’d been almost giddy at first, when he realized exactly where Jake and Rosemary had been heading. They were going to Aiur. He would folow. It had seemed simple enough in that first moment, but reality had soon set in.

Whittier had haltingly informed his employer that he was very, very sorry, sir, very sorry indeed, but there were no appropriate ships in that sector that Valerian could commandeer for this purpose. Wel, that wasn’t entirely true, the
Gray Tiger
was in that area, but she was hardly fit for action anymore, was she? Wel, yes, there are several Dominion vessels, but His Excelency was utilizing those, and it was Whittier’s understanding that the Heir Apparent had no desire to attract his father’s attention any more than was absolutely necessary. Was Whittier misinlformed as to this delicate issue? No? Wel then, it would take some time to get any vessels at—
how
many did Valerian require? Oh my, that would take a bit of doing….

Valerian growled in the back of his throat at the recolection of the conversation. The delay was excruciatingly frustrating. Every hour that ticked by meant Jake and the protoss in his head were that much closer to escaping. Stil, Valerian was not about to sacrifice Jake to his father’s whim by misplaying his hand. This had to be done correctly, or al would fal to disaster. He did not need a handful of vessels, he needed as close to a fleet as he could manage. Who knew what kind of state Aiur was in? The last information he had been able to obtain had indicated that the planet was crawling with zerg.

Valerian would not make the mistake his father had of underestimating Kerrigan.

While he did not understand quite how the former ghost managed her abominable troops, he was not about to assume that once Jake landed on the planet, Kerrigan would be unaware of so unique a presence. And even if she was foolish enough to not recognize the opportunity, wel … Jake devoured by zerg was as bad as Jake captured by Kerrigan or Jake tortured to death by Arcturus.

It was a delicate mission, one requiring care … and one that needed to have started days ago.

Valerian grit his teeth and again drew the sword from the scabbard.

Arcturus might not be able to balance running an empire with perfecting the Stance of the Stalking Panther. But Valerian was not his father. He would surpass his father as the sun surpassed the moon. And he would begin now.

Kortanul inclined his head. “As you wish, Executor.” Despite his words, he
seemed deeply reluctant to speak. Adun and Jake waited patiently.

“Impossible as it may seem, there are those among us who would destroy
everything we have sought to build over the last millennium. They question the
Khala. They maintain that the right of the individual takes priority over the
good of the whole. Some have even resorted to the extreme measure of self-mutilation in order to sever their connection to the Khala.”

Even though he spoke in words rather than a more intimate connection,
Kortanul could not entirely conceal his revulsion. Jake and Adun shared it.

“This cannot be!” Adun cried. “What do they hope to accomplish? Hurtle us
backward thousands of years to when we were no better than the beasts of the
jungles—worse, because we had self-awareness. They know that the Khala was
the greatest boon the protoss have ever had! Why would they wish to ruin our
salvation?”

The Conclave members exchanged glances. “Would you wish to ask them such
a thing yourself?”

Jake started. They had some of these … these heretics present?

Adun was very still for a moment, with that deep stillness that all protoss had
but that was lifted almost to an art form with the templar. “Yes,” he said at
last. “Yes. I would know why one of these … renegades … thinks and feels as he
does.”

A soft murmur of approval flitted across Jake’s mind. Such a mind-set was so
inconceivable, so wrong, that even he would be concerned about brushing the
mind that held those thoughts. And yet Adun stepped forward boldly. He was,
as Jake and all the others had known, a true defender of his people. Not only
did he have the skill and training to protect the protoss from outside threats,
Adun had the deeper strength to protect them from this insidious, hitherto
unimaginable attack from within.

Kortanul nodded to one of the Khalen’ri who stood immobile as a statue by the
oval doorway. The guard bowed deeply, and then a moment later returned with
one of the heretics.

Jake had been expecting a raving lunatic, a madman, powerful, perhaps not
actually thrashing about but at least posing an obvious danger. When they
brought in the adolescent girl, her body slender and frail-looking but her head
held high, Jake was hard put to conceal his astonishment.

Her skin was pallid, and the unhealthy hue told Jake that she had been
imprisoned too far away from the life-giving rays of the sun, moon, or stars.

The Conclave would not have let her starve to death, of course. But they clearly
had permitted her the barest minimum of nourishment. Her mind was shuttered
from Jake’s, but he imagined she had to be experiencing some level of fear as
she was brought out, her slender wrists shackled with glowing, charged
crystals, before the executor.

Adun was on his feet, staring raptly at the girl. She met his gaze coolly.

“This is the heretic?” Adun asked.

“Do not let her appearance fool you, Executor,” Kortanul said. “She is
stronger than she seems.”

Adun nodded absently, his powerful attention completely focused on the girl.

“Speak, child,” he said gently. “I would hear what you have to say.”

She responded with a thought of annoyance so great that Jake blinked. “You
will hear, but you will not listen. You will not understand.”

“There is nothing to understand about lies and heresy!” snapped one of the
Conclave, unable or, more likely, unwilling to conceal his thoughts.

Adun held up a hand. “You asked me to speak with her. Let me do so.”

The girl kept her thoughts and feelings well masked. She had great control, for
one so young and so … ill-treated. Reluctantly Jake discovered a sneaking
admiration for her, despite the fact that she was a heretic and, worse, a fool.

The Khala was the way of survival for the protoss. In unity, there was strength.

In unity, there was compassion. To espouse or worse yet to actually believe
anything other than that would be tantamount to wishing to doom the entire
race. Was that what this was about then? Was this some kind of—of strange
organization that found solace in the thought of the race’s extinction? He
would have to ask Adun, when he was done speaking with the girl.

Adun lifted his hands and turned the palms out. The girl didn’t move for a long
moment, and then, finally, slowly, she mirrored the executor’s gesture. A glow
formed between their hands, and they stood unmoving for a surprisingly long
time. At last, Adun lowered his hands and nodded. One of the guards came and
silently took the girl away. She left the vast, intimidating chamber the same
way she had entered it, head high, dignity intact.

“Now, you understand the full depths of the dangers we face, Executor,”

Kortanul said. Adun nodded. His thoughts were hidden, even from Jake.

“What they believe cannot be permitted to spread,” Adun said.

The Conclave looked at one another and Jake knew they were communicating
quickly and privately. Kortanul turned back to Adun.

“Our past is rich and beautiful in many respects. There is much to be proud of.

And … much not to be,” he said quietly. “It is through the unity of the Khala,
staying on the path Khas showed us without wavering, that we can continue to
have a beautiful and rich future. There is nothing that can be permitted to
damage that. Not even other protoss.”

Adun waited expectantly.

“This is a threat, like any other threat. It is worse in a way, for it is not a
hungry omhara, or a strange, hostile alien being, but one of our own I am
asking you to fight. But ideas are sometimes more deadly than blades. This idea
is a sickness that must be vigorously cut out, lest it poison the whole. There are
more than a handful who feel this way, but thus far, only those of us in this
room know of their existence. It must remain so. Your task, Executor, is for you
and your templar to find them. And when you find them—”

He hesitated. “When you find them, you must destroy them.”

For a moment Jake was stunned, and then he spoke out. “Kill fellow protoss?

Judicator, we have not done such a thing since Khas gave us the Khala! We
know it to be the wrong path. It was Khas who taught us that hating or slaying
another was akin to hating or slaying ourselves.”

“Exactly!” Jake exclaimed to Zamara. “Good for you, Vetraas. That’s exactly what the Khala’s al about. Even if they’re not preservers, even if they don’t have the actual memories of how awful the Aeon of Strife was, they must know that they came close to kiling themselves. And … I felt it. Even with humans. That closeness—how can they ask Adun to do that? He’s a good person. He’s going to refuse. Isn’t he?”

Jake did not at al like the idea that he was living in the body of a mass murderer’s best friend and trusted adviser.

“Hush, Jacob. It wil unfold as it must.”

“That is a truth with which I do not argue,” said Kortanul. “But they have
renounced the Khala. They have removed themselves from its dictates, its
guidance, its protection. Worse, they seek to actively destroy it. They have
chosen to withdraw from what it means to be protoss. They are the enemy, and
they seek to undermine all that makes us what and who we are. They must be
destroyed.”

Adun nodded. “I must protect my people,” he said. “You may trust that I will
do everything I can to that end, Judicator. But how am I to go about this?”

“We have certain information we will share with you. Find them. Seek them
out. That they exist at all is shocking. That they exist in such numbers is
horrific. But they must and will die, one by one. Their ideology will not save
them from the diligence of the templar.”

Adun inclined his head.
“En taro Khas,
Judicator.”

Kortanul was pleased.
“En taro Khas,
Executor.” Relief colored his thoughts.

Jake realized now that Kortanul had been worried that Adun would refuse. But
Jake was still concerned that this was not what Khas had envisioned those
many centuries ago when he proposed complete unity and harmony among the
protoss.