Hammer of Time (The Reforged Trilogy) (4 page)

"But we don't know that, Freezer," Gripper objected in a squeaking voice. No one on the Blue Phoenix had adjusted to Logan's presence, but it was hardest for Gripper. The huge brown alien was still terrified of Coldhand.

"We need to find out," Logan answered. "We need to find Xartasia."

"How?" Duaal asked. He leaned back in his chair and kicked his feet onto the table. His tall leather boots filled the mess with the slightly chemical smell of polish and left little black smudges on the tabletop.

"I don't know yet."

Duaal turned to look at Maeve, who had stopped washing to listen. "He doesn't know? And this is the guy who always managed to find you?"

"She was trying to get caught," Logan countered. "The galaxy is huge. Trying to find any one person is next to impossible. So I usually find out where my prey likes to be. I go there myself and then wait. Or else I let it be known that I have what they want and they come to me."

"Can we do that with
her
?" Gripper asked. He had no nickname for Xartasia and seemed reluctant to give her one.

"I do not know what my cousin wants or what she intends to do," Maeve said.

"But whatever it is, she's got to be leaving some kind of trail," said Logan. "Everyone leaves their marks. We just need to find it. Gripper, I'll need you to come into Hanjirrah with me tomorrow."

"What?" Gripper jumped to his feet and banged his head on the mess ceiling. "Me? Why me?"

"I'll need mainstream access and there's no signal outside the city. There's going to be a lot of information and I need an extra set of eyes. Yours work, right?"

"Yeah," Gripper answered skeptically, apparently not quite sure about this fact. "I guess…"

"What of me?" Maeve asked, a little stung that her lover had not asked for her help.

"You don't like computers," Logan reminded her.

"Oh… yes," she agreed sheepishly. "Is there something else I can do?"

"I was going to go find where the Arcadians live around here," Panna said. She finished drying the pan and replaced it in a cupboard. She closed and latched the door with a click.

"To find out if they've heard anything about Xartasia?" Xia asked.

Panna's high cheeks went pink. "Uh, no. I just wanted to talk to them, actually. Maybe see if any of them have some glass armor from the old kingdom to go with the princess' spear. But I can find out if they've heard anything about Xartasia. Do you want to come?" she asked Maeve. "I'm sure it would mean a lot to them to see their princess alive. Everyone thought the whole royal family was dead."

Maeve scrubbed hard at a bowl to cover her hesitation. She did not like to advertise herself. It was Maeve, after all, who had accidentally summoned the Devourers into the White Kingdom. Even before that, she had been only a cousin to the royal family, in no danger of ascending to the throne or doing anything important. Maeve had meant her words to Logan; she was no princess. Not really. Not anymore.

"I will stay," she told the sink full of soapy water. "I am sure I will be of more use here."

"Sure," Duaal said. "There are plenty more dishes to do."

Maeve darted a glance back over her shoulder at the new captain. Was he taunting her again? No. Maeve saw a teasing twinkle in his dark green eyes, but it did not seem malicious. Maybe Duaal even thought that he was offering Maeve a legitimate excuse to remain behind.

"Yes," she said in an admittedly brittle tone. "I have dishes to do."

Panna's face fell, but she nodded. "How about you, Xia?" she asked.

The silver-skinned Ixthian woman nodded. "Sure, I can go with you."

"What about me?" Duaal asked. "Don't I get an invitation?"

Panna actually stuck out her tongue at the human. "I'm sure you have plenty of work here on the Phoenix," she told him. "Overseeing the dish washing and such."

Anger flashed in Duaal's eyes and a swirling red dot of fire kindled in the palm of one hand. The proud young mage had never liked being teased. But then the flame snuffed out and Duaal laughed. "I guess I do. I should put in for supplies in case we figure out where in the three hundred hells we're going."

"Want to trade jobs with me?" Gripper mumbled. He was chewing on one of his thick claws and spoke awkwardly around it. "I can do dishes."

"I think Maeve and I can manage," Duaal answered with a smirk on his dark lips. "You enjoy your trip with Coldhand."

Gripper looked at Logan again and whimpered.

________

Maeve's song echoed off the metal walls of her bunkroom, a rising note of passion and pleasure. Her wings curled around Logan as his touch set her blood afire. Here in his arms, it was easy to forget her fears. Fear for the Arcadians, alone in the coreworlds and surrounded by aliens who did not care if they lived or died. Fear of Xartasia and whatever she intended. And terror of the Devourers.

But not here, not now. Now there was only the hot-cold presence of Logan filling her, the feel of his sweat-damp skin against hers and the musical notes of her joy. Logan kissed her, not silencing Maeve but as though to taste her song.

________

Maeve lay in Orthain's arms. Her eyes were closed and Aes' golden light caressed her skin with smooth, warm fingers. Birds chirped in the well-tended trees and a nearby stream burbled cheerfully as a happy child. Orthain stroked Maeve's long black hair as he sang.

"To you I give my love,

My heart and life,

The heart and life we share."

Maeve looked up into Orthain's exquisite golden-green eyes. She lifted her hand and caressed his smooth cheek. Orthain caught her wrist and kissed her fingertips.

"Will you share in my oathsong, enarri?" he asked.

His voice trembled. All his glass armor could not protect his heart from the woman he loved. Maeve sat up and brushed back Orthain's long hair. She sang.

"To you I give my love,

My heart and life,

The heart and life we share."

Her lover's eyes lit up. Orthain spread his long wings and vaulted into the air, pulling Maeve with him. He twirled her around above the garden, singing in pure delight.

"I must have missed something lovely," said a voice from below.

Maeve looked down. Another winged shape stood in the grass, wearing a simple white robe that rippled in the warm breeze. His tightly bound hair was black as a raven's wing. Maeve slipped from Orthain's arms and landed in the garden.

"Caith!" she cried and hugged her brother tightly. "Orthain has asked me to marry him!"

"And what was your answer?"

Orthain landed beside a blooming rose tree. He picked a pink blossom and tucked it into Maeve's ebony hair. The knight kissed her brow. "Maeve has agreed," he said with a grin. "You will be my brother, too. And then you will have to share her with me."

________

Maeve woke alone, but the mattress beside her was still warm and full of Logan's strange, salty human smell. She gathered his pillow to her chest and hummed happily.

There was a knock at the door. Maeve wrapped the Logan-scented sheet around her chest and unlocked the door with a swipe of her fingers across the control panel. Panna stood outside, still dressed very much like a Poes Nor student, like a human woman with her shirt concealing her back. To cover the scars of her wing removal, Maeve thought sadly. To think that any Arcadian would cut off her wings… Panna's willingness to sacrifice made Maeve feel suddenly guilty for refusing to go with her today.

"Good morning," Maeve greeted the younger Arcadian.

Panna had inclined her head and raised it now, blushing a brilliant pink at the sight of Maeve's undress. "I'm sorry," Panna stammered. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"Logan is not here."

Panna was still blushing, but a small, sly smirk spread across her face. "Humans are a lot larger than Arcadians. That must be a challenge by night."

Maeve refused to be abashed, though her cheeks went quite hot. "We are more or less compatible in our bed. And I was a knight of Arcadia. I am not so fragile."

"I'm sure you know how to handle any weapon Coldhand carries." Panna giggled. She covered her mouth as though to stifle the sound and then cleared her throat self-consciously. "I was hoping that you would reconsider coming with me today, Highness."

Maeve did not feel
that
guilty. She shook her head. "I am no hero to our people," she said. Panna at least deserved honesty. "I have no hope to give them."

Panna stood in the narrow fibersteel corridor, hands thrust deep into her pockets and shoulders hunched. Disappointed, Maeve knew, but the blonde girl nodded. "All right," she relented. "Just Xia and me, I guess. Where's Coldhand? Did he leave already?"

"Yes. Though not long ago, I think." Panna nodded and turned away, but Maeve had a question. "Did it hurt to have your wings removed?"

Panna faced Maeve again. She stepped back until her spine was pressed against the wall of the corridor and rubbed her palms against her smooth chocolate-colored pants. Panna chewed her lip before answering. "Not much. The anesthetic and pain blockers were very good. The surgeon did a good job and I healed quickly."

"But you did it in order to attend an Alliance university," Maeve protested. She loosened the sheet wrapped under her wings. "Which you have left to help me. Do you regret the decision? Would you take it back if you could?"

Panna clasped her hands in front of her. "How could I? If I still had my wings, I would still be on Cyrus. I would never have known Professor Xen or you, princess."

Maeve did not know what to say to that. Panna bowed to Maeve. Before the princess could ask her not to do that, Panna had turned away and retreated down the hall. Maeve sighed and went to find some clothes. Maybe there were actually some dishes to wash in the mess.

"Don't go looking for stuff you don't want to find."

– Anandrou "Gripper" (233 PA)

Logan and Gripper hired a ride into Hanjirrah. It was a waste of time and money to go into the city just for mainstream access. On most planets, the worldwide computer network was accessible from orbit, but Mir did not bother investing precious cenmarks in extending the mainstream.

Typical prey, Logan thought as they passed through the painted city wall, concerned with the small picture, with personal security that didn't extend much beyond the family or tribal unit. Mir spent more on global defense than any world but Axis, the CWA capital. There was a military network accessible from anywhere on the planet, Logan knew, but without his bounty hunter's license, he could not access it. So that meant going into Hanjirrah.

Domes and arches in subdued browns, greens and blues flickered past outside the taxi windows. It was another hovering van, since they were the only rental vehicles large enough to carry Gripper. The long-limbed young alien sat as far away from Logan as he could… which was not far. Even in the large taxivan, Gripper was just too big to make much space. He checked his computer. The device looked tiny in his rough brown paws.

"I've got a signal," he said in a shaking voice.

"Good."

Logan stopped the driver and paid with a handful of white plastic cenmark chips. The balding Mirran's striped forehead furrowed as he counted the meager tip, but did not argue. The locks snapped behind Gripper and Logan when they got out and the driver swerved hastily back into the street, cutting off a Starwind hauler and a bus with flashing green lights. No one honked or shouted at each other.

It was a mistake to come here,
Logan thought, not for the first time that day. He had hoped that the Mirran's natural caution would work in their favor, but…

There was no point in dwelling on past mistakes. Vorus had reminded him painfully of that lesson back on Prianus. All Logan could do now was move forward. He led Gripper toward the station the bus had just departed. There was a sandwich shop wedged between a luggage store and an Ixthian redprinter. Gripper perched precariously on a stool at a patio table.

Logan took a seat beside Gripper and waited while the Arboran mechanic opened up his folding monitors. The view from the shop was uninspiring. The road rose up four tiers high, cars and trucks and street trains racing by on NI fields. Logan could see across the road only in splintered fragments between one vehicle and the next. There was a port depot, the sort of large warehouse that catered to starships, supplying ducting and fuel, food and water and spools of wire and tape; the things that held ships and their crews together. The sort of crew Logan unexpectedly now found himself a part of. It had only been six years since Hallax had run Logan Centra through, killing a young cop and creating a bounty hunter in his stead. Six years since Logan had worked with a partner, been a part of the Prian police force. Since he left Jess, the woman he had every intention of marrying.