Encrypted (29 page)

Tikaya felt lightheaded. She had to remind
herself to breathe. All she could do was stare at Rias’s
shoulder.

“
I’m going to kill that
man,” he said.

No denial. No explanation about how Ottotark
was wrong. No claim that it was a lie.

“
You were right,” Tikaya
choked. “My people have heard of you, and you’d never be welcome on
my island.”

She stepped back.

Rias grasped her arm. “Tikaya, please. Let
me—”

Shaking her head, she pulled her arm free.
She had to get away. She had to think. She had to—she didn’t
know.

“
I’m sorry,” Rias called
after her.

She stumbled, not sure where to go. Not back
to the fire and the marines. If she returned to her tent, Agarik
would be waiting to yell at her for leaving. She definitely did not
want to go anywhere she would have to look at Ottotark. But neither
could she go out where yetis and wolves and grimbals waited to
devour silly girls thousands of miles from their homes.

Tikaya finally sat down
behind the sleeping tent. She drew up her knees and buried her face
in them. She ought not be so stunned. There had been clues all
along. She just hadn’t wanted to see them. Had she really thought
someone who so readily took command and led the way into battles
was an
engineer
?
That love of mathematics made him the best cursed strategist of his
generation. Starcrest. How often had his name come up in the
documents she decrypted? The youngest fleet admiral in the history
of the empire. The man who, as a captain, had been responsible for
the sinking of a hundred Nurian ships. And the man who, as an
admiral, had guided every battle, every skirmish that allowed the
Turgonians to again and again best the preeminent mental scientists
in the world, with only mundane technology on their side. It was
not until after his death that the tides had turned, ending in a
stalemate. Yes, his
death
. She vividly remembered
decoding a note that said a Nurian assassin had killed the admiral.
He was supposed to be dead, not exiled. That was why she had never
considered her Rias might be the legendary admiral.

Still, who could she blame but herself? She
should have known. She certainly should not have fallen in love
with him. If he was nobody important, nobody who would matter to
her, he would have told her his name. This was exactly why he had
kept it from her. He had known she wouldn’t want anything to do
with him. How could she? If what Ottotark said was true, and Rias
had been the one to suggest taking over her homeland, then every
death was indeed on his hands.

Her stomach writhed, and she choked on a
sob. Every death, including Parkonis’s.

CHAPTER 15

Tikaya did not know how long she sat in the
shadow of the tent, but shivers and a frozen nose finally convinced
her she had to find a warmer berth. She put a hand down and started
to rise. The crunch of boots stopped her. A tall figure with a
rifle strode between the tents and into the darkness before her.
She could not make out features but had an inkling. She remained
still, cloaked by shadows.

A long moment passed with the figure
scanning the dark canyon beyond the camp.

“
Tikaya?” he
called.

She closed her eyes. Rias. No, Fleet Admiral
Starcrest.

She did not want
to—
could
not—talk
to him. Not then.

He called twice more.

“
The bitch is gone.”
Ottotark strode into view from another direction. He passed within
a couple feet of her and stopped a few paces from Rias.

“
Ottotark,” Rias growled.
“I ought to twist your head off your slagging neck and shove it up
your ass.”

“
It’s not my fault you
didn’t tell your girlfriend your name. Admiral.”

Rias had no answer for that, and even the
darkness did not hide the slump to his shoulders. “Where is
she?”

“
Off to the tunnels to
join her friends and leave us hanged.”

Tikaya clenched her jaw. Damn these men. She
did not want to deal with either one, but she could not let Rias
believe she had run off. She opened her mouth to say something, but
Ottotark spoke first.

“
You should thank me,” he
said. “It’s pathetic the way you were hanging all over the bitch.
And why? She slagged us in the war. If you want her, tie her down
and screw her, but don’t—”

Rias threw down his rifle and charged.
Between one eye blink and the next he covered the distance and
crashed into Ottotark, taking him down so hard they flew
backward.

Tikaya drew her knees in tight, too startled
to speak. The attack may have surprised Ottotark, but he recovered
and fought back like a cornered badger. Grunts and snarls
accompanied the smack of fists striking flesh.

In the darkness, she lost track of who was
who as the men thrashed and writhed on the ground. Clumps of snow
flew, spattering her cheeks. Something cracked, and one of
them—Rias?—yelped in pain.

Tikaya held her breath. Ottotark was
younger, bigger, and without any morals as far as she could tell.
She tried to tell herself that Rias—Starcrest—was no longer her
concern, but her fingers clenched into a fist, and she silently
rooted for him.

One man maneuvered on top and straddled the
other. He punched down, and a head hammered the snow. The bottom
man bucked and twisted, and a moment later the positions
reversed.

“
Traitor,” Ottotark
snarled.

Both men panted, breaths rasping. They
switched positions again, legs tangling as each tried to pin the
other.

Metal rang, a knife being pulled.

As furious as he was, Rias would not pull a
blade. Tikaya knew he wouldn’t. She almost yelled a warning, but
stopped herself. A distraction could prove fatal.

One man found the top again and raised an
arm, the knife silhouetted against the night sky. The blade plunged
down at the head of the other.

Movement halted. Ragged breaths assaulted
the still air, and Tikaya could not tell whether they belonged to
one man or two. The top person lurched to his feet and staggered
back, a hand to his belly.

Her heart hammered in her ears, and she
could not bring herself to call out. If it was Ottotark, who knew
what he might do to her? If it was Rias, and he had just made good
on his promise to kill the sergeant...

But, no, the supine man groaned. Weakly.

Tikaya could not identify him by the sound.
She forced her limbs to unlock and she rolled to her knees. She
crept to the fallen man’s side and hesitantly reached toward the
face. Her glove bumped something hard.

The knife.

It wasn’t lodged in an eye after all. The
attacker had sunk it to the hilt in the snow a hair from the
other’s ear. That told her what the shadows did not: of the two,
only Rias would have shown mercy.

She jerked her hand back as the
man—Ottotark—groaned again. She lunged away from him and looked for
Rias. He might be injured and need help. She spun slowly, searching
the shadows, but he was gone.

Maybe he had gone to find a cot. She trotted
into camp. The number of people awake had dwindled, and the fire
burned low. She tore open the flap to the sleeping tent and crashed
into someone coming out.

“
Tikaya,” Agarik blurted.
“We’ve been looking all over for you.”

She grabbed his parka. “Is Rias with you?
Have you seen him?”

“
Not since he went to
check the perimeter.” He must have read her distress. “Why? What’s
wrong?”

“
Ottotark told him I’d
gone to the tunnels. I’m afraid he might have gone after me.” She
explained the fight, all the while cursing herself for staying
silent during the men’s confrontation. Why hadn’t she answered when
he first called out? If he got in trouble because of her stung
feelings...

“
He shouldn’t go in there
alone,” Agarik said, tone terse, worried. “Come, we’ve got to tell
the captain.”

Glad to have him leading the charge, Tikaya
followed him into the command tent. Heat and faint light emanated
from the portable stove in the center, and she could pick out
shapes amongst the shadows. The meeting had dispersed, and only
Bocrest and a couple lieutenants remained inside, all flat on cots.
Tikaya stopped near the stove. Certain the captain would blame this
on her, she did not want to be close enough for him to grab
easily.

“
Sir?” Agarik
asked.

Bocrest jerked awake, hand finding a
pistol.

“
It’s Agarik, sir. The
admiral’s missing.”

Bocrest growled and
lurched to his feet. “Explain.” He must have had a suspicion, for
his eyes skimmed the darkness and found Tikaya. He cursed.
“No,
you
explain.”

While Agarik had listened to the story
patiently, she had to suffer curses and hurled gear while reciting
it for Bocrest. He managed to get dressed despite his preoccupation
with throwing things and was stuffing his feet into his boots by
the time she finished.

“
This
is why women aren’t allowed in the military.” He cursed
again, but shifted to efficiency after that.

By now, the lieutenants
were awake and dressing, and he snarled orders at them. Less than
five minutes later, the entire camp stood in formation outside. The
last to show up, Ottotark limped to the head of one of the lines.
Several men held lanterns, and the flickering light revealed bloody
and swelling contusions on the sergeant’s face. A dark part of her
wished he
was
dead, though Rias probably would hate himself if he killed
someone out of sheer rage.

Bocrest stalked over to face Ottotark. “Did
you draw the knife or did he?”

“
Sir?” Ottotark asked in a
tone that sounded like he was trying to play dumb, or maybe buying
himself time to think.

“
You heard me!”

Ottotark licked his lips. The marines in
formation apparently knew better than to turn their heads and
watch, but their eyes flicked toward the confrontation.

“
I did, sir,” Ottotark
finally said.

“
I told you—I told
everyone
—to treat him
like an officer. The punishment for drawing a weapon against an
officer is death.”

“
Sir! He’s not an officer
any more. He’s a traitor, you said so. The emperor—”

“
Isn’t here,” Bocrest
said. “We’ll discuss punishment when the mission is over. For now,
do your job and don’t talk to our guide or our translator. Is that
understood?”

“
Yes, sir,” Ottotark said
so softly Tikaya almost missed it. If only the captain had issued
that order a few hours earlier.

The tracker strode out of the darkness, and
Bocrest shifted his attention.

“
There are footprints at
the tunnel entrance and it looks like someone walked in, at least a
few steps. The floor is that hard black material, and there’s no
way to track further.”

“
Slagging women,” Bocrest
said before raising his voice. “Gather your gear, men. We’re going
after him.”

* * * * *

The marines marched in step, and the echoes
reverberated through the wide black tunnel. No dead skeletons had
marked the entrance, no piles of rubble scattered the floor, nor
did water drip eerily in the distance, but the place made Tikaya
uneasy nonetheless.

It was too clean, too perfect. No cobwebs
obscured the distance, no chips or scratches marred the dust-free
floors, and no decoration adorned the walls. The cool dry air
reminded her of the lava tubes meandering beneath her father’s
plantation, but no familiar earthy smells accompanied it. No smells
at all. The lanterns the marines carried went unused. A soft glow
emanated from all around, illuminating the tunnel as clearly as the
midday sun. She had visited several ancient catacombs, qanats, and
subterranean cities, and she had studied dozens more. This sterile
tunnel was like nothing in the archaeology books. Nothing in the
world.

“
Who made this place?”
someone muttered.

She walked behind Bocrest, second in a queue
of thirty men. A handful of marines had stayed in the base camp
while Agarik and a couple others scouted ahead.

“
Ancient people,” someone
answered.

“
How?”

“
Magic.”

No telling tingle stirred the hairs on
Tikaya’s neck. “I don’t think so.”

“
Magic,” another said, his
tone brooking no argument. Others murmured assent. “Evil magic made
this place, just like the rocket and the thing in
Wolfhump.”

“
No talking,” Bocrest
snapped over his shoulder, saving Tikaya from launching into a
lecture that would doubtlessly not be well received.

Rias must have a lot more patience than she
to have commanded such men all his life. It must have been lonely
for him with so few peers. She shook the thoughts from her head. It
was none of her concern. Even if she could forgive him for his lie
of omission, Admiral Starcrest was nobody she could have a life
with, not without betraying her people, her family, and everyone
she loved. Especially those fallen during the war. She could want
him found and safe, but she could not want him. Not any more.

She swallowed a lump and fished the journal
out of her pocket. A challenge. Her mind needed a challenge, and
she needed to learn as much as she could before her services were
needed. If ever there was a place she could walk and study at the
same time, it ought to be these flat, terrain-free tunnels. The
worst thing that could happen is she would trip. An animal
screeched in the distance.