Crystal Healer (4 page)

During the interrogation, I had not named Alek, Reever's former friend, or mentioned that he had lured us from Joren and forced us to crash on Trellus in order to use us as bait for the Sovant. "He will be disappointed, then."

"Not if I tell him," my husband said.

"We can't." I knew Reever was still angry over his friend's deception and the terrible danger he had exposed us to. But after the Sovant died, Alek had told us why he had gone to such lengths, and although I didn't condone what he had done, I understood his motivation. "We agreed to let him go."

His voice chilled. "Perhaps that should not have been our decision to make."

Reever still felt betrayed, but there was more to it than that. I think he understood only too well the emotions that had driven Alek to do such things. "Do you remember how you felt when you were searching for Cherijo? How desperate you were? How close to the brink of madness you came?"

Reever didn't like to be reminded of that time. "It is not the same."

"No, it is not. You had hope, and a wife to find," I reminded him. "Your friend did not. He had only a dead wife and her killer. Tell me you would not have done the same, had the Sovant taken me from you."

"It nearly did, thanks to him."

Reever didn't show many emotions, but he radiated fury now. I didn't like confronting my husband, but I couldn't back down. Not from this. "That is something for which he has been harshly punished."

"So he can never return to Trellus unless he wishes to die instantly." Reever made a contemptuous sound. "You know as well as I do that he never will. How is that a punishment?"

"He lost his beloved. He destroyed your trust. Now, I think, he will remain alone for the rest of his days. No love. No friends. No connections. No hope of happiness." I had seen the emptiness in Alek's eyes; I knew what he had become. I had been the same, a mere shell of a creature, before Reever had found me. "That is why he wanted them to kill him--why he dared them to. For him,
life
is the real punishment."

Reever's expression did not change, but his eyes lightened, and he took my hand in his.

"There is something more you should know. We intercepted this transmission just before you returned to Joren." Salo opened the second device, which turned out to be a small data viewer, and activated the screen.

The image that appeared was that of a lumpy, chin-less, light-skinned being wearing a utilitarian male pilot's jumpsuit hemmed by wide straps and belts holding a great many odd-shaped weapons and spare ammunition. He wore a helmet filled with an iridescent gas, which moved in lazy swirls as parts of his face swelled, flapped, and deflated.

After a moment I realized the odd sounds that accompanied the image were speech; he was burbling in his native language. My vocollar did not translate the sounds into speech, but Reever paid close attention. The being displayed a handful of glowing gems, repeated some of the bubbling sounds he had made, and then the image abruptly shut down.

"Who is he? Do you understand what he said?" I asked Reever.

My husband pressed a button on the viewer, causing the transmission to replay. "He's a Thekka raider, offering a thousand verdant Rabbat pearls for information about us, our whereabouts, and security arrangements." He stopped the video and studied the screen carefully.

My heart sank as I recalled Alek's final warning. "He must be the bounty hunter looking for us."

"The Thekka are thieves and murderers, not bounty hunters," Reever said. "They attack cargo ships by launching small drones that attach themselves to the hull and pump poison into the environmental systems. When everyone inside the ship is dead, they dock with it, board, and retrieve the cargo."

Outrage darkened Darea's face. "That is horrible."

"It is their only real advantage over other species," my husband said calmly. "The poisons they use create a synthetic version of their homeworld atmosphere, which is highly toxic to most offworlders. In any event, this Thekka is not hunting us."

Salo frowned. "Why then would he offer so much for information?"

"He was forced to make this transmission." Reever adjusted the image so that it focused on and magnified a portion of the Thekka's helmet, and a dark shape reflected on it. "There. Someone is standing just out of range of the viewer." He enlarged the image again and traced the outlines with his fingertip.

Whoever had been with the Thekka had been holding a pulse rifle aimed at the mercenary's head.

Two

The Torins assigned large, lavish personal quarters for us at the pavilion and provided every comfort we could wish for. After our meal with Salo and Darea, we retreated to our rooms and spent the remainder of the evening there with Marel. I took a moment to send a scan of the old Aksellan mining map I had promised for Fasala to Darea, and then gave our daughter my full attention. It took her some time to tell us all that she had seen and done during her journey with our friends.

"ClanUncle Salo took us to HouseClan Kalea, and their ClanLeaders look like us, Mama," my daughter said as she brought her image viewer to me. "Kol and Jory are part Terran, see?"

I examined the picture of Marel standing between a male and female at a gathering in a beautiful formal garden. The pair was tall and wore Jorenian garments, but the female's black hair was short and curly, and the male had only five fingers. Both had tanned but definitely Terran skin.

"They are a handsome couple." I noted the other Jorenians around them also appeared to be crossbreeds with a variety of interesting body types. "Did they speak to you in Terran as well?"

"Jory did because she's from Terra, and she lived there almost her whole life. ClanLeader Kol tried, too, but he's always lived here on Joren, so he couldn't say some of the sounds. Then Jory laughed and he chased her around the table and pulled her behind a trellis. They stayed back there a long time." Marel wrinkled her nose. "I think they were kissing. Why do grown-ups always have to kiss each other so much after they bond? It's silly."

"Is it?" Reever leaned over and brushed my mouth with his. "Hmmmm. Do you feel silly,
Waenara
?"

I smiled up at him. "Not as often as I wish,
Osepeke
."

"Daddy, stop." Our daughter gave us a disgruntled look. "You're both too old to be kissing all the time."

Despite the happiness I felt in being with my family, I did not sleep well that night. As I lay in my husband's arms and listened to his slow, quiet breathing, thoughts of Xonea, the Trellusans, and the Thekka mercenary snarled in my mind, tightening into knots of doubt and fear.

Near dawn I gave up and rose, dressing silently so as not to disturb Duncan or Marel. One of our small felines, the silver-furred male called Jenner, perched on the end of the bed to watch me. As I armed myself with several blades, his blue eyes narrowed, probably out of jealousy that he could not do the same. My husband and child insisted the cats were warm and affectionate pets, but in their eyes I saw the same, cool deliberation of any clever predator.

"You will guard them while I am gone," I told the little beast. "Or I will make you into a head wrap for the cold season."

Jenner yawned and jumped down to join his mate, the black-furred Juliet, where she lay curled up with three of their new younglings.

I slipped out and made my way silently through the empty corridors until I found a door that led to the open central courtyard, which the Torins had decorated with more of the flowering plants they loved and white marble sculptures of male and female Jorenian warriors. The Iisleg sometimes carved pillars of ice into pleasing shapes for certain tribal celebrations, but I had never seen stone made into people. For a time I sat on a bench by the largest of the female warrior statues, one that held a primitive, wicked-looking spear as if she might impale ten enemies with it. I looked up at her, wishing I could borrow some of her fierceness for what lay ahead.

"Who sits at the feet of Shanea Torin?" a deep voice said. A tall, older male with a full head of purple hair stopped before my bench. He wore the colors of the Torin with a length of woven silver cloth draped from his right shoulder to his left hip, an indication of his rank. Attached to his belt was a cylinder I recognized as a scroll case, in which important handwritten documents were carried.

He smiled down at me with genuine pleasure. "Ah, it is my favorite healer. Welcome home, ClanDaughter."

"I thank you, ClanLeader Torin." I rose and tried to make a formal gesture of respectful greeting, but found myself in his affectionate embrace. I returned it, gingerly, before stepping back. "I was just preparing to leave for the medical facility."

"Please an old man and speak with me first." He gestured toward the bench.

I sat, feeling uneasy. As well as being the Torin ClanLeader, Xonal Torin was Xonea's sire. I had met him only a few times, but I knew from Reever's memories that Xonal and Cherijo had been very close. Talking with him might be as hazardous as crossing a dripping snow bridge.

"We have not had the chance to speak privately since you were returned to us," he said, studying my face. "Darea explained to me about what happened to Cherijo on Akkabarr. I understand that you are a different person, one named Jarn. May I use that name for you?"

"Of course." It pained me to hear him ask permission for such a thing. On my homeworld, Xonal Torin would be a rasakt, the leader of the tribe. An Iisleg rasakt would not lower himself to acknowledge my existence, except to issue an order to kill me or drive me from his iiskar. "I do remember you, ClanLeader. My husband was able to transfer his memories of Cherijo's life to me."

"Then you will remember when the League attacked Joren," he said. "Cherijo surrendered to them in order to prevent an invasion of our world."

They always made her sound so noble. "That was part of her bargain with OverLord TssVar, to give the Hsktskt access to the League ships so that they could take them over and turn their crews into slaves. In truth, she surrendered herself and eight hundred other unsuspecting beings."

The side of his mouth curled. "Darea mentioned to me that you do not much care for the woman you were."

"I never knew her. I was born the day she died on the ice." I met his white-within-white gaze. "My people, the Iisleg, believe in speaking plainly. The truth is that Cherijo did many things that I cannot condone, and I do not always care to be associated with decisions I would never have made. But if what I have said about her offends you, I ask your pardon. I know how much your people honored her."

"Do not trouble yourself, Jarn." He touched my arm in a reassuring manner. "I speak of Cherijo now only so that I might explain why my ClanSon, Xonea, is so determined to keep and exercise authority over you."

I lifted my eyebrows. "He thinks I will invite the Hsktskt here again?"

"He blames himself for not protecting Cherijo when the League attacked. He swore to his ClanBrother, Kao, that he would never allow her to be captured or taken from us." Xonal released a heavy sigh as his hands moved like snow drifting down from a still night sky. "Your bondmate was not the only one who suffered when you--when Cherijo disappeared. Xonea greatly honored her. If not for her bond with Duncan, I think he would have Chosen her a second time."

"Cherijo wrote in her journals that Xonea Chose her only to protect her when she was suspected of murder," I said. "Later she mentioned protecting him for the same reasons, but she was angry, and a great deal of what she wrote didn't make sense."

"My ClanSon has great pride. He could never repay Cherijo for what she did for him," he said, "nor, do I think, could he forgive her for deliberately breaking his Choice of her."

"I thought the only thing that breaks Choice is . . ." I fell silent as Reever's memories told me exactly what she had done. "Cherijo had Squilyp induce cardiac arrest. She killed herself." And my husband had watched her do it.

"For three minutes--the required amount of time under Jorenian law to be pronounced dead," Xonal said. "The Omorr was able to revive her, but only just. The shock of it put Cherijo in a coma. When she awoke at last, she Chose Reever."

No wonder the two men sometimes looked as if they wanted to tear each other apart.

"When the story was first told to me, I believed she did so only to prevent my ClanSon from Choosing her again. Now I think not. Cherijo and Reever were . . ." The ClanLeader made a complicated gesture.

I nodded. What my former self and my husband had been to each other often defied explanation. More of Reever's memories poured into my mind. "Xonea didn't take the news very well."

"At the time, my ClanSon was under the influence of a psychotropic drug being administered to him without his knowledge or consent." Sadness drew down the corners of his mouth. "But even afterward, when he had regained his self-control, he was never the same. Nor has he ever spoken of that time to me or anyone among the HouseClan."

"I think she must have wounded his pride as much as his heart," I said softly.