Shamara (7 page)

"Think nothing of it. When you said to contact Celie Cameron, I realized you must be connected to Radd, which meant you were connected to Sabin, which meant—" Lani paused and lowered her voice conspiratorially "—you were probably involved in something you didn't want the authorities to know about."

"Right." Just trying to keep up with her lightspeed chatter was making Jarek dizzy, but he pressed on. "By the way, how is your friend Eirene? I'd like to see her again." From the corner of his eye, he saw Chase and Nessa pry their attention from Lani to stare at him.

Lani waved a blue-tipped hand dismissively. "Oh, she didn't stay around after you were shot. I tell you, no one has a decent work ethic any more. Why, we can't keep anyone—"

Jarek cut her off before she could go off on a tangent. "Do you know where she went?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I was worried about her. When I saw her leave, I followed her to make sure she was okay. She went to the transport station and bought a ticket for Elysia." Lani blew out an exasperated breath. "Didn't even tell me good-bye. How rude."

Jarek couldn't believe this turn of fate. Again, he was struck by the fact it wasn't coincidence that Enhancer equipment had been uncovered on Aldon, or that Lani had arrived with the information he needed to find Eirene. As far as he was concerned, it
was
divine providence. He took only long enough to kiss Nessa and shake Chase's hand, and give Blake some final instructions. Then, ignoring their vehement protests, he headed for the airlock.

He was going to Elysia. And he would locate Eirene. He was the best reconnaissance scout in the entire Shielder militia. It didn't matter how far she ran.

He would find her.

The big event was at hand. Today Eirene had her audience with Darya. Meeting the great healer had been only a distant dream when Eirene was on Travan, seemingly trapped, with no options other than living her days out in servitude to the men there. Yet fate had intervened, giving her this wonderful opportunity, and she intended to take full advantage of it.

Unfortunately, she'd awakened feeling ill, weak, and flushed with fever. Nothing of any concern, she insisted to herself. Just a minor virus, probably caught on her jaunts through the marketplace. She dressed with care, ignoring the shakiness in her limbs. Nothing would keep her from this audience. Too queasy to eat, she drank a little water and set off for Darya's quarters.

Traveling through the crowded marketplace, she felt even worse, but pushed forward. The usual mental bombardment must be making her symptoms seem more pronounced. Regardless, she couldn't miss this appointment with Darya. She might not get another chance. People jostled her, and she stumbled twice, but pressed on. Nothing would prevent this meeting.

A sudden jolt of mental energy spiked through her like a knife. She swayed to a halt, grabbing a vendor's cart for support. Surely the energy burst was simply the normal emotional turmoil churning through the masses. She could block it out if she could only concentrate. Another mental jolt speared her, staggering in its intensity and focus. This time, the energy was more definitive. An insidious, seeking force—terrifying, as its tentacles seemed to wrap around her. Tracking her, only her.

Adrenaline shot through her body. Who—or what—was it? Her uncle wasn't capable of broadcasting such energy, but he might have hired a psychic tracker. Yet she should have been able to block any probes. Where was the transmission coming from? Behind? Ahead?

Her heart pounding, she pushed away from the cart and shoved through the crowd, oblivious to the protests. She had to evade her anonymous pursuer. Darya…she must reach Darya.

*  *  *

He found it. A faint mental trail, the same energy he'd sensed in Eirene's chamber at the Pleasure Dome. Not the same pattern he would pick up from another Shielder, yet distinct and recognizable. Jarek felt certain Eirene was emitting that energy. He pushed forward, scanning the crowd up ahead, the psychic trail getting stronger as he advanced. He focused all his concentration on the glimmer of energy, locked   on to it. It was directly ahead of him. He was closing in.

There! A flash of silver and a glimpse of dark hair bobbing through the crowd. Eirene. He speeded up, forced harder, jostling bodies aside. He'd been on Elysia four cycles now, checking every departure from the transport station, patrolling the marketplace for any sign of her. He would not let her get away.

She must have sensed him, because she began running, edging to the side. Jarek took off, leaping from the pathway and dodging in and out of stalls. She went faster; so did he. Fortunately, he was recovered from his injury, well rested and in good physical condition. He gained on her rapidly.

She was just ahead of him now. Almost in reach…until a vendor pushed a cart into his path. He crashed into it, the hard yarton wood slamming the breath from him. The impact spun him into another stall, as he battled to regain his balance. A shelf of Saija silk halted his spin. He found himself on the ground beneath several bolts of colorful fabric.

Loud, angry voices jabbered as he managed to untangle himself from the silk and struggle to his feet. A large, bearded man, bare-chested, with gold cuffs around his bulging biceps and numerous gold hoops in his ears, shook his fist in Jarek's face. "You son of an Antek!" he bellowed. "I brought that silk all the way from Vilana. Now you've ruined it!"

Jarek backed away, his hand going to his stunner. "I apologize. I'm sure the silk isn't ruined. All you need to do is brush it off and—"

"You broke my cart! And you terrified my babies," a strident female voice came from behind him. "Just look at them."

He whirled to stare at the first vendor, a tall, thin woman with garish orange hair and a long, sour face.
Babies?
Worse and worse. He glanced up the pathway. Eirene was nowhere in sight.
Damn!

"Your babies?" he asked cautiously, edging the direction she had gone. A group of grim-faced merchants blocked his retreat. Great. They competed ferociously among each other for business, but were tighter than a miserly Shen if one of their own had an altercation with an outsider.

"They're everywhere," the woman sniffed, waving a thin hand toward the ground.

Jarek looked and saw them: lightspeed-quick balls of fur, chattering and darting into nearby stalls. Lanraxes. One maroon baby lanrax scampered toward him, obviously terrified, and squealing in distress. It leaped onto his leg and dug in its magnasteel-sharp claws. He winced and unthinkingly pulled the small creature off his leg.

"Here." He thrust it toward the woman. "I'm sure you'll be able to round all of them up. I'm sorry, but you pushed your cart into me." He eyed the terrain, looking for the quickest escape route.

The woman grabbed his arm. "You'll pay! For my cart, for these babies, for—"

"And my silk!" The man grabbed Jarek's other arm. "It's worthless now, I tell you."

Jarek had to get out of here. Eirene was getting away. He wrenched his arm free from the woman. No such luck freeing himself from the man. The lanrax squealed and leaped to his chest, digging in and pressing against his neck. Blazing hells.

"Look," He said to the woman, peeling off the lanrax so he could see, "I didn't even dent your damn cart. It's yarton wood, for Spirit's sake." He turned to the male merchant. "And Saija silk can be cleaned. I suggest you let me go before you regret it."

"He's a thief," another merchant muttered, and they moved closer.

Jarek groaned in abject frustration and urgency. He had to take desperate action, as much as he hated to do so. He drew his stunner, which he kept on a low setting, and put the silk merchant out of commission. The man sagged to the ground, sunlight flashing off his gold jewelry. The woman began to wail and scream for help, while the other merchants drew back, terror replacing their anger.

"I'm sorry," Jarek called over his shoulder, as he darted around the cart and made a run for it.

Despite the cries of outrage from behind him, no one tried to stop him. Dangerous criminals and petty thieves abounded in the marketplace, and few beings were willing to accost a possible felon. The apparent exception was the maroon lanrax that had reattached itself to Jarek's leg and was clinging for dear life.

He ran up the pathway, skirting the masses of people, careful to avoid any more disasters. He couldn't concern himself with his aching ribs, which must have been bruised from the impact with the cart. Nor did he take time to remove the lanrax or give it any consideration. He was focused on one thing only—Eirene. Which way had she gone?

He mentally scanned for the energy pattern specific to her, but didn't find it. He picked up other Shielders in the vicinity, but not Eirene. Where was she? He searched the marketplace, despairing that he'd lost her. He finally found a faint trail, along a path that forked to the left. He veered up the path, rapidly edging along the crowd, but more cautious of carts this time.

He almost passed her in his haste. She was huddled beside a stall, her arms wrapped around herself, and trembling violently. Her head was down, her hair shorter and not as dark, and the blue robe gone. But he knew it was her. Same slight build and, more importantly, the same energy he'd sensed at the Dome. He stopped beside her. She appeared oblivious to his presence. "Eirene."

Her head snapped up, her blue eyes widening in shock. "No!" she gasped, scrabbling along the stall, trying to rise to her feet. "Go away."

He grasped her arm before she could flee. Her skin felt hotter than the sands of Calt.

"No!" She jerked back, trying to free herself. Then she kicked at him and flailed her free arm against him. "Let me go!"

He winced as she made contact with his bruised ribs. He grabbed her other arm. "Stop this. I'm not going to hurt you."

She fought like a trapped kerani, although her movements seemed sluggish, weak. "Let me go. Let me—" She stumbled against him, her legs giving out. Her hands gripped the front of his tunic. "So weak…what's wrong with me?"

"I don't know," he murmured, gathering her unresisting body into his arms. He felt her shaking, and realized chills from the fever must be causing it. "But I'll take care of you. You're safe with me."

She shook her head weakly. "No. Never safe. Please…leave me alone."

"I'm afraid I can't do that," he said, with true regret. He needed her too badly. She was going with him, whether she wanted to or not.

She closed her eyes and sagged against him, her breathing shallow. She appeared to be very ill. Jarek felt like a real bastard as he thought of a way to turn her illness to his advantage. The idea was unethical and dishonorable, going against his ingrained sense of integrity. But ensuring Shielder survival called for desperate measures.

"Sorry, little one," he whispered, despising what he planned to do next.

She didn't respond. Resolute, Jarek cradled her closer as he turned and headed for his ship.

*  *  *

The images were surreal, like a dream. And she was hot, so hot. Eirene twisted, trying to get away from the burning heat. Strong hands stilled her, and a cool cloth swept across her face. She turned toward the coolness, desperate for relief.

"Eirene, can you hear me?"

A male voice calling to her…must be a dream. She blinked open her eyes, but quickly closed them against the painful light. Hazy images seeped through her mind, bringing a memory of being tracked, of trying to get away from…impossible. The man who'd relieved her of her virginity was long gone, having left Saron before she did. This was just a bad dream.

The cloth drifted over her face again, bringing her more alert. This felt too real to be a dream. She forced her eyes open. Him! She jolted up with a hoarse cry.

"You
are
awake." He tossed the cloth aside and sat on the edge of the bunk, pressing her back down. Not that she would have gotten far, she realized, feeling her body shaking. What was happening? She stared at Jarek, disoriented and confused. Panic fluttered in her chest, but she was too weak to act on it.

"How did you get here?" she croaked. Her throat felt parched, and she was so hot.

"You're ill," he said bluntly. "Very ill. You have to help yourself."

Bewildered, she glanced around. She was in a chamber she'd never seen before. How had she gotten here? Nothing made sense, and her muddled mind seemed incapable of logical thought. "I don't understand," she whispered.

"I know about your abilities, Eirene. You can heal yourself. You have to heal yourself."

Alarm edged through her dulled senses. "What are you talking about?"

His dark gaze seemed to bore right through her. "Your abilities. I know you're an Enhancer."

The adrenaline that jolted through her cleared some of the fog. How could he know that?
How could he?
"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do." He took her hand and pressed it against her forehead. "Feel the fever. You're burning up. Feel the tremors wracking your body. You're very sick. Do you want to die?"

She
was
sick. Fear closed in. Yet she would never admit her secret to him, or anyone else. Rayna had pounded home the importance and necessity of Eirene keeping silent about being an Enhancer. She turned her hand, grasping his. "Help me. Find a healer."

"You don't need a healer. You can help yourself, Eirene. Just like you healed me."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"There's no need to hide the facts from me. I'll never tell anyone. I swear. You healed me. I'm certain you did. As I was dying, you put your hands over my wound, and you healed me. I know you can do the same for yourself."

He seemed determined to force an admission from her. But she'd die first. There were many things in the universe worse than death. If anyone discovered for certain she was an Enhancer, her fate would be unthinkable. Controllers and other factions snapped up those with Enhancer abilities, imprisoning them and tapping into their powers.