Keir (5 page)

* * * *

With his trackers leading the way, Rialto and his men came through the edge of the copse toward a small village. The trees thinned and gave way to open farmland. A cluster of timber buildings stood between one band of woodland and the next.

Rialto surveyed it. There seemed to be some commotion, and several houses were missing their thatching. They had barely made it to the first fence before they were surrounded by irate villagers, desperate to tell their tale. As their strange procession reached the center of the village, Rialto reined in his horse and nodded to his second-in-command.

“Who is in charge here?” the second demanded.

A gray-haired man, his eyes wide, stepped forward. “It should nae be allowed to happen to innocent people, my lord,” he protested loudly. “We have done nae wrong. We cannot protect ourselves from witchcraft!”

Rialto stared impassively at the peasant. “Who cast magic against you?”

“It was that witch, the woman with hair like fire. Knocked us flying, she did, with just a wave of her hand! We could nae stop her.”

Rialto signaled his men to move on and nudged his mount into a walk, but the villager kept pace with him.

“What will you do, my lord?”

“We will deal with them. You have my word on that.” He kicked his horse on, determined to be clear of the village as soon as possible.

The forlorn villager called after him, “But, my lord, what about the damage?”

“I suggest you get to work repairing it.” Rialto spurred his mount into a canter.

* * * *

Quin breathed a sigh of relief as they came, at long last, to terrain she recognized. The small river marked her arrival point on Salusan. She lowered Keir to sit against an earthen bank that ran above it, before dropping down next to him. It felt as though an entire lifetime had passed instead of the mere forty-eight hours she had spent here. Strange that such a backwater planet could have caused her this much trouble in so short a time.

On her knees, she scrabbled under the bank for the hidden hollow in which she’d tucked the small pack of supplies she always left at a gateway when uncertain of her safety. She took out the first-aid kit, knowing even as she did the meager offerings within wouldn’t be enough. The portable scanner revealed broken ribs and a cracked skull, injuries she had neither the knowledge nor skill to deal with. All she could do was clean his cuts and seal the shoulder wound, and give him as high a dose of pain relief as she dared.

Throughout her ministrations he leaned against her, too weak to move or voice any protest even when it was clear she had unwittingly hurt him. When she was done, his breathing was still shallow and uneven, and she could feel the life seeping out of his body. Gritting her teeth, she drew more of his pain into herself but it seemed to make no difference. At a loss, she tried to persuade him to take some water, but he shook his head. There was nothing more she could do for him. Not here.

“Keir?” she said softly.

“Mm?”

“I need to take you to my world to get you help, but you’re so weak…it’s a risk. I can’t make this decision for you.”

She laid him back so she could see his face. His eyes were very bright and calm, as if nothing mattered anymore. She took his hand in her own, willing him to survive.

“There is no decision to be made, Quin.” Keir grimaced, taking a sudden gasp of air as if fighting for it. “I am dying. But I would rather die with you than stay here.”

His words filled her with a sadness so sharp she had to fight down tears. Swallowing the knot in her throat, she pulled him to his feet for the last time. Even with her support, Keir struggled to keep up as they moved a short distance downstream. A huge slab of dark stone lay against the bank as though it had reeled backward in a drunken stupor. Quin raised her free hand, palm out toward the rock face. Shimmering lines rapidly crisscrossed the surface, forming a doorway which snapped opened into endless night. Keir flinched, staring into the star-dusted infinity beyond.

“You live in the stars?” he asked, sounding alarmed.

“Yes.” Quin took a step forward, calm and content as she stared into the doorway. “And so will you. There’s nothing to be afraid of, Keir.”

He frowned, and for an instant gripped her shoulder as if to stop her, before allowing her to guide him through. The universe rushed past them in a blaze of white light and they stepped out onto another world.

* * * *

Rialto sent his horse crashing through the undergrowth, recklessly urging it on through the woodland. A small river blocked his path, but he gave a shout of encouragement and the animal made the jump with ease, though it stumbled along the edge of the opposite earthen bank. He jerked it to a halt so hard it sat back on its quarters, tossing its head in alarm.

Rialto dropped from the saddle, grimacing as he jolted his bad leg in his impatience. The added discomfort only increased his rancor as he advanced on the waiting scout.

Used to his commander’s dark moods and tempers, the man remained unflinching at his approach and stood to attention.

“Well?” Rialto demanded, barely able to contain his anger. “Where are they? Why have you lost the trail?”

“I cannot follow someone who vanishes into thin air, sir,” the tracker replied, undaunted. He gestured toward a rock face where a path of disturbed leaves and broken twigs ended.

Wonderingly, the commander laid a hand on the indicated rock, as if expecting it to yield its secrets at his touch.

“You are sure? There is no possibility they have climbed the bank or doubled-back?” he questioned, without much hope. He knew the tracker was too experienced to be fooled by such tricks.

“Yes, sir, I am certain. I do not know how they have done it, but the trail ends here. We have lost them.”

“Witchcraft, perhaps,” Rialto suggested faintly.

The tracker looked skeptical. “You might as well suggest they flew, sir.”

The commander turned away, slowly drawing his sword. He nodded, examining the blade as if seeking a flaw in the metal. Then, with a roar of rage and frustration, he spun and struck the rock repeatedly. Sparks flew from the blade as it made black marks across the stone.

Those of his men who had caught up stood in shocked silence to watch him as, with a final scream, he plunged the blade deep into the ground before the rock and walked away, his face like thunder.

* * * *

Keir tightened his grip on her arm, fear flickering through him. A semi-circle of smooth, white walls surrounded them, each with a glass window set at head height, peering out over a new landscape. The sun was setting and a keen wind stirred the golden leaves of tall, silvery saplings. A vast lake of steel-gray water rippled under the same airy caresses, verdant fields disappearing into the horizon past the craggy sentinels of blue-gray rock. Another world.

“It is beautiful,” he whispered breathlessly. “I am glad I have seen it.”

The last of his strength bled away. His grip on her shoulder slackened and he collapsed to the floor with a final sigh.

1.       
   Chapter 3
   

Quin leaned against the frosted glass wall of the shower, hot water streaming over her as she sluiced off the stench of the sewer and rinsed clumps of mud from her hair. She tipped her face to the water, letting it hide the tears that fell as she recalled her last images of Keir. The beaten look in his eyes as he waited for her to condemn him. The blood running from his body and soaking into the mud of the village. The lifeless stare as he fell at her feet in the gateway room. The deathly stillness that killed hope.

Summoned by the alarm system, the medical team had been there within seconds. Surei had banished her from the medical center until she was cleaned and calmed to the required standard. Sent to her quarters like a scolded child. There had been no word since, good or bad, and she dreaded any answer she might go seeking.

Her skin glowing red from scrubbing and the foul smell at least masked by scented detergent, Quin judged herself sufficiently clean and cut the water. Hot air blasted over her skin, chasing droplets of water downward. When the autodry cycle finished, she stepped out to dress. The plain black clothing only emphasized her pallor but she didn’t care enough to change. Two hours had passed since she’d brought Keir home, with no news from Surei and her team.

She dried her damp hair with a towel until it formed a wild mane then used her fingers to smooth the tangles, pacing her quarters like a caged animal. Her stomach growled, reminding her of how long it had been since she last ate. Half a day? No, longer than that. Her last meal had been those few pieces of fruit she had scavenged at the camp. But even as she considered it, her insides twisted into such a tight knot she couldn’t bear the thought of food.

She sat at her table anyway, buried her face in her arms.

Ryan, Darion, Jared
.

The names were a litany that haunted her. Three men she had cared about and lost.

And now Keir?

She knew so little about him, but she did know she felt something more for him than pity. That strange connection bound them together in some way.

Why was it taking so long? If he had died, surely Surei would have told her by now? If only she could have stayed with him…but Surei knew her job, and, in the end, Quin had little right to argue. All she had done was provide a refuge for a handful of people who had nowhere else to go. She wasn’t their boss.

When her call chime finally sounded, she froze, almost unwilling to answer it. It rang a second time, and she forced herself to speak.

“Yes?”

“He’s stable, Quin, but I need you up here, please.” Despite the musical quality of her voice, Surei’s tone gave nothing away, which only intensified Quin’s foreboding.

She raced down the glowing white corridors to the medical center, only to be grabbed on arrival by Surei.

“Calm down, Quin.” Her feathered head tilted to one side. “You’re not seeing him in that state.”

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she focused on the Senior Medical Officer with an effort. Barely Quin’s height and delicately built–although there was surprising strength in her grip–her dark, narrow face was framed by snow-white feathers and punctuated by serious amber eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Quin said, unable to keep the slight tremor from her voice. “I thought I’d killed him bringing him back.”

The medic tempered her stern expression with a touch of compassion, easing her hold on Quin’s forearms. “His injuries alone would have killed him, not the journey home. How he has stayed alive this long, I don’t know.” She paused, as if considering the impact of her words. “It isn’t good, Quin.”

“How bad?”

“His injuries are severe,” Surei ventured, her melodic voice subdued. “A cracked skull, four broken ribs that punctured a lung just prior to his arrival, and massive blood loss. The last beating he took aggravated everything, but he was already critical. I am sorry, Quin.”

For a long moment she stared at Surei in disbelief. In spite of his terrible condition and his subsequent collapse, she had still harbored a fragment of hope. “He’s dying?”

“We’ve done all we can for him, medically-speaking, but he’s slipping away. It’s as if he’s given up. I can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

Quin closed her eyes. Guilt clenched around her chest and squeezed, leaving her with an ache no drug would cure. She had failed.

She glanced over the avian medic’s shoulder into the room beyond. “Can I see him now?”

Surei nodded and silently led her through.

The medical center had been designed for a much larger population than the meager few who remained in the base after its creators abandoned it. Surei had reduced the facility to a more appropriate size by sectioning off enough for their needs. A long, narrow bay enclosed five adjustable beds made of thin, silvery metal, each supported by a single, central pillar. Behind them stood individual panels of black metallic neo-crystal running from ceiling to floor, containing personal monitoring and control systems with separate medical computers, to ensure every patient received specialized care.

Keir was cradled in the far bed, the white wall alongside a stark contrast to the distinctive coloring of his skin. He’d been stripped of his filthy rags and cleaned up, and it was the first time she’d been able to see him clearly, to see his youth and frailty. Surrounded by medical equipment and naked to the waist, he lay unmoving, his right forearm encased in a wide metal feed collar connected by clear tubing to the control panel behind him. The darkness of his skin had faded to the palest of blues, marred in places by black bruises. His recent wounds competed for space with heavy scarring and the overwhelming presence of the runic tattoos.

Despite all this, he was handsome. He had a long, slim face with high cheekbones and a narrow nose, but he was far thinner than he should’ve been, his ribs a grim cradle for the hollow of his stomach. The monitor above his head revealed the feeble pulse of his life as it faded to zero in descending bands of color.

Drawing closer, she laid a gentle hand on his arm. The fire that had burned on Salusan had dwindled, leaving him cold to the touch. “I told him I wouldn’t let him die.”