Shadow of the Swan (Book Two of the Phoenix Legacy) (19 page)

“We couldn’t calculate that, but no one expected you to betray your father by trying to escape the marriage.”

“I’ve never even considered that. But you’ve forced me into a drastic change of course by being alive. I found myself in a very unique position, and I intended to take full advantage of it.”

He felt a constriction in his throat, remembering that wry laughter from other years, knowing it always masked grave purpose. “How was your position unique?”

“In two ways. First, I’d be the wife of Orin Selasis’s
sole
heir. Second, I didn’t care whether I lived or died. There’s freedom in that. No courage; it doesn’t take courage to risk something you don’t care about. But the result is much the same, and in a way I’m sorry to lose that freedom. It was in my power to bring the House of Selasis to an ignominious end, with all the sons-in-law clawing over the remains.”

He raised an eyebrow. “How did you plan to accomplish that?”

“Very simply. I planned to kill Karlis.” She gave Alcxand an oblique smile. “But not all at once, and not in such a way that I could be held responsible for it. Orin wouldn’t limit his revenge to me. He’d make Father and the House suffer, too. That was the most difficult part. My first thought was simply to carry a gun—or perhaps a knife would be more fitting—and use it at the first opportunity, but I realized that for Father’s sake I’d have to be more subtle.” Her eyes were obdurate as stone, her smile chill as the dark sky. Alexand could only gaze at her helplessly, waiting for her to go on.

“I did some research on poisons, and, oddly enough, the best possibility came—in all innocence, of course—from the gentle Malaki. He warned me of a Polluxian plant called ‘death hemus’ that mimics the true hemus. It’s a cumulative poison. The University memfiles tell me it’s also virtually undetectable, and the symptoms are so close to hypertensive stroke, it’s unlikely anyone would look for it. Of course, after Karlis’s demise Orin might still try to get an heir of me— he probably keeps a sperm reserve for Karlis, even if the Board of Succession frowns on it—but I was prepared to die before I bore any heir to Karlis, however conceived, and even if Orin made a prisoner of me, I’d still have one escape, the ultimate escape of death.”

Alexand turned away. It was intolerable to hear her speak so casually of her death. But none of this was unexpected or surprising. Still, it was some time before he trusted his voice enough to speak.

“This is why I had to come to you now. I knew you wouldn’t accept this marriage passively. I didn’t know exactly what you might do, but I knew you’d do something. And I didn’t know if it would make any difference to you that I was alive, or that there was a faint hope for my resurrection, but I had to tell you. You had to know.”

She closed her eyes, but not before he saw the glint of tears held behind her lashes.

“Oh, Alexand, did you really think it would make no difference? It changes everything. You’ve saved my life in a sense. I’ll not die willingly now, not for any reason.”

I’ll not die
willingly
. He took little comfort in that qualification. He knew her and the Selasids too well.

“Adrien, I can’t tolerate even the thought of the grief I made you suffer, and I don’t think I could survive what I inflicted on you.”

A mute sadness was reflected in her eyes. “I know, and I don’t think I could survive it twice. And yet . . .” She took a deep breath before she went on. “Alex, I must ask a pledge of you.”

He hesitated, then, “What pledge, Adrien?”

“I hope you don’t expect me to sit like the fairy-tale princess in her tower, wringing her hands while you, or the Phoenix, fight the dragon. I won’t be relegated to that role. I’ll take part in the battles that will determine my fate—
our
fate—in any way I can. This is the pledge I ask of you, Alexand: trust me; give me the freedom to take any course, and any risks, I feel necessary. Don’t try to stop me or limit me out of fear for my life.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes; he was numb and aching. The price of this pledge would be paid in fear. But there was no decision to be made. Adrien Eliseer wouldn’t be confined even if he asked it of her; the wind wouldn’t be caged.

“Adrien,” he said softly, “let me think of you as a princess. Don’t deny me that. But I won’t relegate you to a safe tower, not even if it were in my power to do so.”

She pressed his hand. “Thank you, love.”

“For what? Recognizing a truth? Call it a pledge if you will, but, please, give me at least some hint of what you intend to do outside your tower.”

“I intend to keep myself free, that’s all. Free to honor the Woolf-Eliseer contracts when you’re resurrected.”

“But
how
, Adrien?”

“I can’t answer that now, Alex. I have no idea what I’ll do—what I
can
do. The only honorable way out is the cloisters, really, but it’s too late for that. I may have to go through with the wedding; the ceremony. That’s for Father.”

“No, I won’t—we’ll stop it somehow before it comes to that.”

“You’ll try, I know, but I can’t believe it would go this far if there were any way the Phoenix
could
stop it.”

He stared bleakly into the white glare of the icecap. “We’ve tried everything short of assassination.”

“And the Phoenix balks at that?”

“Yes. We’ve never resorted to that and never will for both pragmatic and ethical reasons.” He paused, then, “The Phoenix balks at it.”

“And you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Alex, look at me.”

Her sharp tone brought his head around abruptly. Her eyes were fixed on him uncompromisingly.

“You are a member of the Phoenix and one of its leaders; you hope to be its representative in the Concord one day. If assassination is unacceptable to the Phoenix, then it must also be unacceptable to you, or you betray your cause. And if you betray the Phoenix, you betray Rich and, in a sense, me. You’ll make a mockery of everything you’ve sacrificed and all the grief I’ve suffered. You can’t do that; you couldn’t live with it. Nor could I.”

Alexand thought of Ben Venturi, who would find it so hard to accept his decision to come into Adrien’s life again, to make her a part of his life. He could only wish that Ben could hear this and see the determination in her eyes.

He touched her hair, warm with the sun. “Karlis is safe from me. You have my word.”

She nodded, then, “Trust me, please; trust me to find a way to keep myself free if you can’t stop this marriage. And even if I must go through with the wedding, I promise you this, Alexand: Karlis will never have me as his bride.”

He stared at her numbly. If the wedding took place, how could she possibly keep herself free, how could she avoid surrendering herself to Karlis without risking death?

“Alex . . .” For a moment he saw fear in her eyes, and he wasn’t prepared for that. He took her in his arms, feeling the tension in her body slowly relax. Her need for reassurance was paradoxically comforting, perhaps because she seemed to find reassurance in him; he had so little to offer her.

He kissed her forehead, whispering her name, then his lips moved along the velvet curve of her cheek to her mouth, and perhaps they were both at a vulnerable point. He closed his eyes against an unexpected vertigo.

Finally, it was Adrien who made an end of it, kept it from becoming a beginning. She rested her head on his shoulder with a long sigh.

“We’ll talk of it no more. I won’t waste this miraculous time thinking of the Selasids, and especially not Karlis. If he knew, he’d be fairly gloating.”

Alexand laughed. “I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction, even if he isn’t aware of it.”

Three days. A miracle, indeed; and a Rightness.

The only sound in the room was the music on the speakers, the languid Auguste
Andante Sinfonia
. Alexand stood in one of the glassed bays in his bedroom, looking out at the stark landscape he’d learned to see as beautiful through the eyes of Adrien Eliseer. In the twilight, the crescent of Pollux shed a blue light on the icefields under a sky spangled with unwavering stars. Alpha Centauri B was out of his line of sight, but its light etched the crests of the hills to the south.

Adrien was with Lile Perralt now, and the doctor’s illness must now be regarded as an undeniable fact. Still, he insisted it was only indigestion, and Alexand understood that. Ben would take him off active duty immediately if he knew about it. Perhaps it was an error not to warn Ben, but that was Perralt’s decision.

Alexand looked down at his watch and closed his eyes.

Eight hours. Three days had dwindled to eight hours.

And it was time for the call. He went to the bed where his suitcase lay open and took out the microwave transceiver, then returned to the alcove, and as he set the frequency, wondered where he’d be when he made the next call.

On his first attempt, he got a no-answer signal. He frowned at that, then reset the frequency. This time the answer came after only one buzz.

“Radek on line.”

“Erica, how’s the weather?”

A warm laugh, poignantly distant, but immeasurably welcome; he hadn’t talked to her since he left Fina.

“I’m clear, Alex. Oh, it’s good to hear your voice. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, Erica; recovered. What about Ben? I got a no-answer signal when I tried to call him.”

There was a brief hesitation that alerted him. “He’s all right, but he’s in Leda now.”

He despised the limitations of audio transmission; he wanted to see her face, to find the source of that hesitation.

“On SSB business?”

“No, Phoenix business. Or loyal opposition business. It’s Val Severin. She disappeared sometime in the early hours of this morning.”

The minor cadences of the
Andante
marked the time as he stared out into the pied, chill, blue-hued landscape.

“Disappeared? What—didn’t Ben have her under surveillance?”

“Of course, but once she went to her apartment for the night, he had to depend on monitors; his agents couldn’t stand around the halls without attracting attention. Unfortunately, the monitors tell us nothing. She slipped out very quietly sometime after midnight and went straight to the MT room. We didn’t find out until this morning that she had herself transed to one of our permanent terminals in Leda; the Hender’s apartment. She told them she was on a special assignment, and that’s the last anyone has seen of her.”

Anger coalesced within him. and like the recurrence of a chronic pain after a period of cessation, it seemed all the harder to bear.

“Erica, if Predis—”

“Whatever happened, I don’t think he had anything to do with it. Ben slipped a monitor past him today, and he’s as frantic as we are to find her. He thinks we’ve hidden her away, and that worries him since she knows a little too much for his peace of mind.”

Alex paused, his initial relief shading to anxiety. “Then she left on her own initiative? Why, Erica? And where would she go?”

“I don’t know. She talked privately with Rob Hendrick yesterday evening; the first time since the poisoning incident. We couldn’t monitor that conversation, but I can guess what happened. As for where she’d go, I have no idea. She isn’t with any of the members in Leda. Ben’s checking all her friends and relatives from her pre-Phoenix days and watching the Conpol and SSB arrest rosters.” Her long sigh was clearly audible. “It was probably a panic reaction, and her only thought was to get away from Fina and Rob. It’s anybody’s guess where she might end up. The Outside, most likely.”

He frowned at that. There was no need to remind Erica of Val’s chances of survival in the Outside.

“Erica, I’m . . . sorry.”

“So am I, but we haven’t given up hope yet, and Ben will find her if it’s humanly possible.”

“I know, but keep me informed.”

“I will. But what about you? Are you leaving for Helen today?”

“Early in the morning, Helen ST. That’s in eight hours. I’m taking Perralt’s aircar; it’s an Eliseer ’car with House Physician in large letters over the House crest. That will get me through the city locks with no questions asked, and it has an autonav system. I’ll arrive in Helen during the morning work-shift change, then I can send the ’car back to the retreat on automatic return.”

“Thank the God for Dr. Perralt. I’ve been grateful he was in the House of Eliseer more than once, but never more than now. Your contacts in Helen are set up again?”

“Yes. Ben has Vandyne primed and waiting for me.”

There was a long pause, and he almost expected her next question, casual, yet still guarded.

“How did Lady Adrien react to finding you alive?”

He laughed softly. “With extraordinary equanimity.”

“I suppose it was . . . quite a shock for her.”

An understatement, and Erica knew it. Alexand understood her cautious tone, but he found words coming hard.

“Yes, but she seems impervious to shock.”

“Alex, has she changed?”

“Some things seem immune to change.”

A quiet laugh. “I’m glad you finally recognized that. I wish I could talk to you. I mean, face to face.”

“So do I. Perhaps we can—soon.”

“I hope so, and maybe it’s the mother hen in me, but I’m glad about Adrien for your sake. I hope it doesn’t make more grief for you, and it could. Still, I’m glad.”

For a moment he could find no words, except, “You’re extraordinary, Erica.” Then he added, “I didn’t discuss this with Ben or explain my change of plans in Leda. He didn’t seem . . . interested in discussing it.”

“Yes, I know. Alex, it . . . it doesn’t make sense to him, you know. I mean, you and Adrien. He’s never allowed himself personal involvements of that sort. But give him some time.”

“All right, Erica. Has Ben had any news about Andreas since yesterday?”

“No, and in this case no news is good news, to a point. There’s still no hint of a trial or execution yet.”

“What about Predis?”

“He’s busy making up lost ground. You shook him badly with the FO assembly.”

“He hasn’t made any moves against you or Ben?”

“Not yet. He’s even let up on the gossip campaigns while he’s working at his recovery.”