Keir (22 page)

Disappointment filled him, but now at least his way was clear. He laid his mother’s body on her side away from the bolt, and got to his feet. He walked to the horses and gathered the reins of one, preparing to remount. His movements were slow, but full of terrible purpose. In his mind hovered an image–a man with blue eyes colder than death, his endless hatred now mirrored by his son’s. In his heart, the desire for revenge beat a sullen tempo that drove him onward and overrode all else.

He is the cause.

He turned his horse, urged it on.

He must pay.

A voice shouted, “Taler, stop him!”

A sudden weight struck him hard in the back and his horse squealed, its back legs buckling. Strong arms wrapped themselves around his body, pinning him. He summoned up another handful of fire, but a sharp pain tore into the side of his neck. He cried out as the power drained away, leaving him hollow. Lethargy flung heavy chains around his limbs and dragged him backward. Dragged him down. Fighting it, he tried to rouse his rage but darkness slunk through his veins.
No!
He would not surrender, would not give into this. The blue-eyed man waited. He had to go back.

Keir tried to lift his arms. Tried to stand, intent on struggle. The darkness won.

* * * *

Alone in her bedroom, secure in curved walls of pale-orange marble and soft, colorful furnishings, T’rill gazed thoughtfully at her reflection. The circle of mirror was set in the wall’s face, edged with large pearls that gleamed softly. A single shelf beneath was littered with a profusion of colored pots and bottles, pieces of jewelry glittering in the light. In her hands she held a small device encased in glass–a gift from a friend.

She stared down at it, playing with it as she struggled to reach a decision. R’hellek’s words on the beach had continued to plague her in many ways, not least by reminding her of how many years it had been since she last saw the woman who’d brought her to her throne. The forthcoming celebration of that day seemed an adequate excuse to summon her to the palace, though the device had been left for emergencies only.

T’rill fretted that her wish for Quin’s presence was purely selfish, driven by R’hellek’s worrying suggestion of hidden threats to her family. If there was anyone she could trust, who she could be certain of without question, it was Quin. She knew the desire to see her again overrode all logic, couldn’t help but be aware that her behavior was inappropriate for a powerful monarch–more the whim of the child she had been when they first met. Irresolute, she pressed the glass plaque against her scaled forehead, the coolness of it soothing the start of a mild headache that seemed to have been drawn by her ponderings. The chiming call of her door signal snatched her from her tortured musings, a temporary reprieve from indecision.

“Enter,” she commanded, laying the device aside.

A dark-blue saurian male entered, dressed in elaborate robes of black and gold, as befitted a member of her inner court. He bowed to her, but with a smile on his face. “Your Highness.”

“J’dahzi.” She smiled back. “I’m glad you’re here. You can help me decide.”

“Have you no handmaidens to choose your dress today?” he teased, pretending to look around in mock surprise.

T’rill laughed. “Not clothing,” she said. “I thought of asking Quin to come to us.”

“Why would you think of her now?” he asked, blinking rapidly in a sign of consternation. “It’s been many years since her last visit.”

“Exactly. I miss her.”

“R’hellek has been asking many questions about her lately,” he said, trepidation marring the smoothness of his face. “Where her home is. When last she came. Who she travels with. He is showing far too much interest in a woman he has always made clear he dislikes.”

“Interesting,” she mused. “It was a conversation with him regarding friends and allies that reminded me of her.”

“Did he mention her then?”

“No. Not by name. He seemed to be trying to frighten me.”

“Your Highness, I would not presume to speak ill of our Minister of War, but it is always wise to doubt his motives.”

“As I do,” she agreed. “This era of peace is as alien to him as a fish swimming in sand. He still sees enemies in the shadows. He makes me afraid.”

“There is nothing for you to fear.” He laid a fatherly hand on her arm.

“I fear for my children, J’dahzi. I would give anything for the promise of their safety.” T’rill could not keep a sudden overwhelming feeling of insecurity from her voice, adding an uncertain quiver to it. Would that underlying fear ever leave her?

“Is this the reason you would have her come here? A sacrificial piece should there be trouble?”

“No, J’dahzi,” she returned sharply, her tone adamant. “An ally in times of danger, as she has been before. I know I can trust her.”

“You have asked for my help in your decision, Highness. Do not bring her here. Leave her safe wherever she is, away from R’hellek’s curiosity and scheming. Rely on your people, those who love and honor you, to protect you. Do not endanger her for the sake of your fears.”

T’rill looked up at him, startled by his harsh pronouncement. “You believe the threat is against her, not me?”

“I think it is possible.”

“Then surely, we should send her a warning.”

“Warning Quin of danger is an open invitation for her to come here seeking it.”

She glanced at the device on her table, glittering with temptation. “I will think on your advice, J’dahzi,” she said quietly, hiding her inner turmoil.

Brows furrowed, the courtier bowed and excused himself. As the door closed behind him, T’rill made her decision and raised the glass block with both hands. One swift blow against the table sent sharp fragments scattering across the surface. The device began to glow.

* * * *

Quin sat before Surei like a disobedient child, head bowed and hair tangled. The Senior Medical Officer held her fingers steepled under her chin. “He used telekinesis against you?”

Quin nodded slowly.

“And Taler had to bite him to stop him?”

Quin gave another cursory nod, staring at her feet.

“And he’s opened a gateway.”

This time, Quin did not even trouble to move her head at the medic’s succinct statement of fact, sunk in her own dark thoughts.

“Quin!”

At the sound of her name she finally looked up, tired and sullen.

Tilting her head, her amber eyes deeply troubled, Surei leaned toward her to emphasize her point, with her fingers spread on the polished surface of the desk. “He cannot stay here. He’s proved himself too dangerous.”

“He hasn’t done anything I can’t do, Surei.”

“But you don’t do it. That’s the point.
You
aren’t mentally unstable and half out of your mind with grief.
You
have had centuries to learn to control your talent. Hades, Quin, he used it against
you
! Doesn’t that frighten you?”

“Of course it does! But it’s my fault he’s learned how to do it. And his mother had just been killed, Surei. It wasn’t as if there was no reason.”

“And how many more excuses will you make for him when someone else gets injured? You have the ability to defend yourself, and you were still hurt!”

Quin stared at the floor again, unable to argue Surei’s condemnation. In her mind, she relived the moment he had cast her aside with nothing more than a flick of his hand and a fragment of telekinesis, wielding unimaginable power without a thought. She shuddered in barely suppressed horror at the ease with which he had rendered her helpless.

“He cannot stay here!”

Unable to contain her distress any more, Quin leaped to her feet and stormed out of the office. She marched to his bedside, where Keir lay sedated and restrained at Surei’s instruction. Locked in an artificial sleep, he appeared more innocent than ever, but she could sense the underlying potential for destruction even now.

Without thinking, her hand strayed to his hair, brushing a stray curl from his face. The only time she could touch him, freely, was when he was unconscious. Of everyone here she was probably the closest to him, yet he still could not tolerate much contact.

Taler stood alongside, monitoring him and ensuring his continuing sleep. She gave Quin a sympathetic look and shrugged wordlessly. Quin copied the gesture and stared down at him, more angry and upset with herself than anyone else. Despised on his home-world and now unwelcome here, what more could she do for him? Surei’s conclusions were warranted. Though it hurt to do so, in her heart she agreed with the medic.

Keir’s behavior had frightened her, no matter the justification, and now all of them were at risk. His intention might not have been to hurt her–she’d simply been in his way–but he’d used his talent wildly and without restraint, even though his rage had only been focused on returning to the city and killing his father. She had seen that insane rage before, had learned the hard way not to excuse it.

What troubled her most was Keir’s instant mastery of his dreadful powers, without the controls Quin had learned to impose on herself, making him as dangerous as a Sentiac itself. All his life they must have remained dormant within him, until her interference. She had failed him.

She felt a presence beside her. Surei had followed her out. “Quin.”

“I know,” she snapped, then regretted it. “I just don’t know what to do! If I take him somewhere else, he may find his way back. If there are people there, I put him or them at risk. All the options are bad ones. I can’t abandon him.”

“Is there some way of preventing him from using these abilities?”

“I don’t think I could do that, and it would only add to the stress he’s already under.” She hesitated as a thought occurred to her. “I could take him away for a while, though. Maybe he just needs some time to adapt.”

“Quin, do you think perhaps you are allowing yourself to become too involved with him?”

“What do you mean? It’s my fault he’s here. Surely that makes him my responsibility?”

The medic touched her arm gingerly, trying to lighten the import of her words. “Do you think that perhaps, because you share a mental link and the Sentiac DNA that binds you together, you are too close?”

Quin jerked back as if Surei had struck her, her skin burning at the implication. “You think I’ve fallen for him?” she snapped hotly. “What kind of idiot do you think I am?”

“A compassionate one,” the medic assured her, clearly not wishing to offend her further.

Quin forced herself to calm. Surei had made an illogical assumption about her concern for Keir.

Besides, it’s not as if he’s interested in me. He can’t even stand me
touching him.

“I promise you, that isn’t the reason.” She placed a hand on Keir’s arm. “I feel responsible for him, that’s all.”

Surei was silent for a long moment. “So you’re going to take him away.” She sighed. “And what will you do in the meantime, if I wake him up?”

“I swear on my life, Surei, I will watch him every second of every day until we leave.”

The medic sighed. “I shouldn’t listen to you. I should go with my medical opinion and keep him under. He’s far too dangerous.”

Quin said nothing, waiting anxiously.

With obvious regret, Surei deactivated the feeds and removed the collar and restraints, with Taler’s eager assistance. “He’s all yours,” she told Quin, without looking at her. “Now take him away from here and prove me wrong. And if you can’t, don’t bring him back.”

* * * *

The public audience chamber of T’rill’s palace was surprisingly small, sufficient for the limited entourage of her armed guard, senior courtiers, personal attendants and no more. The pale, curved walls and random organic pillars were reminiscent of a seashell’s inner chambers, the smooth surfaces marbled in orange and white. In places, strange shapes and patterns were embedded in the walls, spirals and concentric circles scattered haphazardly.

On a throne of the same marble-like material, embellished with gold and inset with small colored gems and pearls, sat T’rill, back straight and dressed in glorious robes of iridescent blue-green. Her long, taloned hands rested lightly on the arms of her chair, her face set in a regal mask. On her head she wore a small silver crown and around her neck a chain of seashells made from precious metal. To either side of her stood her handmaidens, clothed in long tunics of matching colors and similarly adorned with silver jewelry.

The members of her inner court stood talking quietly in small groups, the guards arranged in a full circle around the edge of the chamber. A musical sound, like wind chimes caught in a sudden, strong breeze, caused a fleeting disruption amongst the courtiers as they took their places in two formal parallel lines the length of the room, from throne to door. The circular, silvered door to the chamber, with its elaborate, embossed decoration, opened slowly. A trilled fanfare sounded as a small procession entered, R’hellek leading the way.

He marched stiffly through the lines of courtiers, followed by a single alien figure and accompanied by an honor guard as protocol dictated. They approached the queen and a strange silence fell amongst her people as the Emissary passed them by. T’rill noted it instantly. Was that due merely to his anomalous appearance? Surely not. The Metraxians had allies of varying species, although perhaps none so mysterious. Although humanoid, his basic body-form not unlike the Metraxians, he was cloaked in gray cloth shielding his exact outline, a silver mask obscuring the features of his face. He moved with an odd gliding motion as if he had no weight. Such strangeness made her wonder if the Emissary was even flesh and blood beneath his clothing.