Shades of Gray (64 page)

Light and pain exploded in his mind, the force of it making him stagger and fall to his knees. Panic filled his mind—no, not his, theirs—then another wave of mental pain hit him, and he felt himself toppling as the ground rose up to hit him.

 

The nomadic market in the town wasn’t exactly nomadic because many of the traders lived and worked there permanently from their tented enclosures. The true nomads arrived in the spring and stayed through the summer before returning to winter in the mountains.

Like many wandering people, they had several fortifying beverages, one of which served thick and hot, was similar to Terran coffee. It was to indulge in this that Kaid had brought Carrie to the tent of the most popular seller.

He waited until the surprisingly dainty drinking bowls had been set before them, then the shokka pot on a tray with a dish of honey and a small, steaming jug.

“Boiled water, as requested,” the cafe owner said, making a sweeping gesture and bowing as he backed away from the ornate low table at which they sat. “Should the exalted ones wish anything more, just call me.”

Kaid nodded and pulled a coin out of a pocket, which he flicked into the air. The nomad’s hand shot out and caught it in midspin.

“Good reflexes,” Kaid murmured, picking up the shokka pot and pouring for them both. “I would bet they probably retain something of the Warrior genes.”

“Could be,” she agreed, reaching for the hot water and pouring some into the syrupy liquid. “Those who live in extreme conditions are usually pretty warlike. They need to be tough to survive.”

Kaid lounged back among the large cushions, sipping his drink as he watched Carrie absentmindedly continue stirring in her spoonful of honey.

“You weren’t this reluctant to read me the riot act when I was at Stronghold,” he said at last.

“Excuse me?” Carrie stopped stirring to glance across at him.

“After you rescued me from Ghezu.”

“That was different,” she said.

“Was it?”

She looked away, laying the spoon down carefully as she pretended to watch the passersby outside the shade of the Bedouin-style tent. “You stayed away from us because you feared your visions and were afraid they’d lead you to harm one of us.”

“So you honestly believe he loves Zayshul?” he asked abruptly.

Startled, she looked back at him. “I don’t know. He said there was a scent marker ...”

“He’s lying. There may have been once, but not now. Neither of us has seen him with her. If he’s not questioning the prisoners, he’s with Kezule.”

“That means nothing. They could be spending the nights together.”

He leaned forward, keeping his voice low, despite the fact they were alone. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Carrie, when he thinks neither of us is watching him. He’s no more in love with her than I am, nor she with him.”

“Why would he lie about it?” Her attention was fully on him now.

“Why, indeed.”

“You think he’s protecting us—as you thought you were by staying at Stronghold?”

“I believe he thinks he is.”

“Why would he think that? There’s no threat to us here, is there? That attempt on his life was a one-off incident, you told me.”

“As far as I know, it was. More importantly, are you just going to keep accepting what he says and do nothing? You were the only one who believed in his innocence, and you pushed until you got us out here. So, what do you intend to do about it now?”

“He’s gotten as good as you were at avoiding me, Kaid, even when we’re in the same room.”

Kaid had the grace to wince slightly at her words. “You’ve been doing the same,” he countered.

“That’s unfair. I made the first overtures to him, and he pushed me away. He took the crystal of the twins and Kashini, but I know he hasn’t looked at it.”

“You can’t keep count of who did what first in a relationship, Carrie.”

“What relationship?” she demanded, picking up her bowl and taking a drink from it. “We no longer have one—he made that abundantly clear!”

“None of it makes any sense, though. Kezule’s too complacent about the whole matter. The person we brought forward in time would have been consumed by rage had he thought Kusac was even looking at his female, never mind his wife.”

“We’ve all changed a lot since those days,” she said tiredly, taking another sip of her drink.

They both felt it at the same moment. Kusac’s mind, closed to them both for so long, was suddenly wide open to them. There was a sense of overpowering exaltation, that just as suddenly turned into a snarl of anger and denial before, just as abruptly, it was cut off.

Kaid was on his feet before Carrie had dropped her cup.

The new town, outside the city wall,
Kaid sent as they left the tent and began running toward the street leading to the southern exit.
Who’s closest?

There was no sense of physical injury,
he sent reassuringly as they pushed their way through the market crowds.

Alien,
she sent, changing their mental frequency to a tighter, private one as they ran toward the southern city exit.

 

They’d reached the gate by the time Rezac reached Kusac.

He’s unhurt, but unconscious,
he confirmed.

Keep contact tight. There could be eavesdroppers,
sent Carrie.

Aye,
he replied.
He was watching Annuur and the TeLaxaudin build adobe houses. Annuur says he touched them while they were working and got hit by a backlash.

And pigs can fly,
retorted Carrie angrily.
He’d hardly forget one of his first lessons as a Telepath!

 

He touched Unity!
sent Ayziss.
How could he do that?

Annuur was furious with the TeLaxaudin.
No need to attack him like that! You draw attention to us we do not need! Next time I say too dangerous to come here, you listen! Leave now, before his mates arrive. Unity I shut down now till later tonight!

No danger, we erase his memory of this,
replied Ayziss complacently.

Cannot! His mind is closed to us,
Annuur snapped back.
You forget who is in charge here! Leave now! Too many questions his mates be asking! I close Unity now!

Emitting scents of annoyance, the two TeLaxaudin and their Prime guard stalked back to their flitter.

 

The red glow in front of Kusac’s eyes grew more intense, and he could feel the heat washing over him. The air was acrid with the mingled smells of the fire, red-hot metal, and heated oil. Bellows wheezed, and a fresh wave of heat lapped over him.

“Kaid has been here many times,” a deep voice said from beside him.

“Vartra,” he mumbled.

“This is Vartra’s forge, but I’m not he. Unfortunately, the Smith has been . . .” There was the smallest of hesitations, “. . . detained against his will.”

Then who?
Kusac opened his eyes and spun around. Before him stood a Sholan as dark-pelted as himself, dressed in unrelieved black.

“It’s time for us to finish the job he began.”

Kusac’s gaze followed him as the male reached for the sword lying on the anvil.

“Many years have been spent forging this, but now it’s nearly complete.”

Light caught the blade, gleaming off it despite its unfinished state.

“It’ll be a fine weapon,” Kusac said, unable to tear his eyes from it as it was thrust into the heart of the forge. He watched the crystalline structure of the metal alter as it slowly began to glow.

Not all weapons are made of steel or wood,
a gentle female voice said in his mind.
The best ones are made of flesh.

“
Flesh that has been tempered, like steel, in the fires,” agreed the male.

“I don’t want to see,” he whispered, unable to look away or close his eyes as icy fingers seemed to creep up his spine.

Images began to form within the heart of the fire as the heat danced on the blade, making it glow brighter and brighter. Helpless, he watched as he struggled, injured, across snowy plains to Carrie’s village. Then he felt himself reach mentally for her to stop her following her twin into death. The images of defining moments in his, Carrie’s, and Kaid’s lives, moments that had changed him forever, flashed by as fast as the flickering of the forge’s flames.

The Sword of Justice has always been the wielder, not the blade,
Ghyakulla sent as, overwhelmed, he sank to his knees.

“You’re stronger than we are now,” said L’Shoh, grasping the blade and pulling it from the forge. “Faster, with abilities which give you great power. Justice must be tempered with compassion. It must not be blind lest it become that which it was created to fight.”

The Entity picked up a hammer. “This sword has been forged only a handful of times. You face the M’zullians and must decide their fate. The destiny of many worlds rests in your hands.”

Kusac cried out in pain, falling to the ground again as the hammer hit the blade, sending a shower of sparks to briefly light the darkest recesses of the foundry.

Again and again the hammer fell, each blow feeling as if it was pounding his flesh, not the steel of the sword. Finally it stopped, and L’Shoh stepped back from the anvil. Through tears of pain, Kusac watched the golden-furred female step into his line of sight to pick up the blade.

Green tunic swirling, she thrust the still-glowing metal into the oil bath. Acrid fumes filled the air as it hissed and sizzled. For him, there was only the sense of blessed coolness sweeping through his body.

Returning the blade to the anvil, she turned to look at him, holding out her hand.

Eyes as green as the grass on Shola considered him carefully as he accepted her help to get to his feet.

As she sent to him, her eyes grew larger, filling his vision, their green taking on the shape and form of endless forests of trees.

 

With a cry, he jerked up into a sitting position, staring frantically around. “The forests,” he muttered, reaching up to rub his pounding head.

“Take this.” Annuur thrust a mug into his field of view.

He reached for it but Rezac’s arm blocked him.

“Is safe, only analgesic he had on Shola,” said Annuur hurriedly. “He touched us when working. Got backlash.”

Kusac reached past Rezac for the mug, taking it and, on an almost subconscious level, analyzing the liquid as he drank it. There was another compound there—one designed to make him suggestible. No sooner did he notice it than he realized he was automatically neutralizing it.

“Are you all right?” demanded Carrie, crouching down beside him.

“I’m sorry, there was nothing I could do,” said Tirak.

“Forgets lessons,” said Naacha disdainfully before taking the empty mug from him in his mouth and trotting off to return it to their work area. “Never touch workers!”

Wisps of the vision he had had were teasing his memory, mingling with Naacha’s mental suggestions to relax, that nothing unusual had happened. He thrust them aside to his subconscious to deal with later. Now was not the time or place to face down Annuur.

“I’m fine,” he said to Carrie, accepting Kaid’s outstretched hand to help him rise. “It wasn’t a backlash, just an overload. There was nothing you could have done, Tirak,” he said to the U’Churian Captain still hovering beside them. “I’m fine, really.”

He staggered slightly before regaining his balance. Already the pain in his head was receding. Whatever else, Annuur’s potions were good analgesics.

“We can cancel the trip out to the oasis if you’re not up to it,” said Carrie.

“I’m fine,” he repeated. “I’d like to see what Conner and his acolytes have been up to.”

“You’re in good hands, obviously,” said Tirak. “I’d best be getting back to the Palace.”

Kusac waved vaguely in the U’Churian’s direction as he left.

“There’s also their holy hot spring,” said Kaid, “though we’ll catch it on the way back.”

Kusac nodded, following Kaid and Carrie as they led the way west toward the landing area outside the main gates.

“We could all do with the break,” said Kaid once they’d left the protovillage behind. “Plus we can do a census of the larger critters that are out there. Good practice using our telepathic skills.”

“It wasn’t a backlash,” said Kusac. “At least, not the usual kind.”

“What was it then?” asked Carrie. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes, Annuur’s potion got rid of my headache. Actually, it felt as if one of them mentally lashed out at me.”

“Annuur?” asked Kaid.

“Not the Cabbarans. I’ll need to check it out later.”

“I’ll get to Rezac to keep an ear open.”

“No,” said Kusac, stopping to look at them. “Leave it to me. It’s only to do with their building, and I have the most experience of the Cabbarans and the TeLaxaudin.”

Kaid shrugged. “As you wish.”

 

They reached the landing pad a few minutes later. A shuttle, one of the smaller ones, was powered up and waiting for them. One of Kezule’s commandos met them at the entrance, giving Kusac a crisp salute before turning to Kaid.

“All is ready, sir,” he said, descending from the craft.

Kaid nodded and climbed up the short ramp into the shuttle. Kusac followed Carrie, glancing to the rear as he took his seat.

“Lot of gear,” he observed, buckling in.

“We’re setting up a cache inland along the river for future use,” Kaid replied, starting up the engines.