Sweet Starfire (32 page)

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Authors: Jayne Ann Krentz

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Sweet Starfire
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Memories of the twinkling fountains and perfumed air of Clementia drifted up to tease her, reminding her of what she sought. But the delicate fragments of her visions kept getting demolished by the more powerful memories she was accumulating with Severance.

Even as she said his name in her mind he stirred again on her lap. She touched his forehead again and began to worry in earnest. He was far too warm. The wound must be infected. That thought left her feeling helpless. There was no way she could guide a wounded, sick man through the jungle. They would be easy prey.

Perhaps Severance carried other medicine in his utility loop. Trying not to disturb him, she began going through the pouches one by one. The contents were varied and curious, covering everything from the utility knife to a spare set of Free Market cubes. Sometime she would make a point of asking him why he carried the extra cubes. The explanation, Cidra was sure, would prove interesting.

She found a packet of tablets that had long since lost its label. No point speculating on what they might be. But other than the antiseptic and the adhesive bandages, there was nothing else that appeared medicinal.

Severance turned on his side, clearly fretful and uncomfortable in his sleep. Cidra hesitated and then decided to get some water from the stream. She could soak his shirt in it and use it to cool him down somewhat. Gently she lifted his head off her lap and pillowed him on the ground cover. She opened the lightweight bag and hurried to kneel beside the stream. The water felt cool against her hands, and she hoped it would have the same effect on her patient.

She was getting to her feet when she realized that Severance was trying to stagger erect. Alarmed, she went back to him. In the moonlight she could see that he wasn’t focusing on her. His eyes were fevered and restless.

“Lie down, Severance. I’m going to cool you off.” She tugged coaxingly on his arm.

H§ reacted as if he weren’t even aware of her. Pulling free of her grasp, he leaned against the wall of the safehold and began making his way along it toward the entrance. Cidra suddenly realized where he was going.

“Severance, no!” She raced forward and caught his arm again, this time much more firmly. “You can’t go in there. Lie down. You’ll feel better when I bathe your face. Lie down, Severance.”

Again he shook free of her and started toward the entrance. Cidra became frantic. If he got inside and activated the illusion trap, she would never get him back out, not in his present condition. There was no telling what the terrifying images would do to him while he was burning up with fever. They were hard enough to deal with when one was feeling normal.

He was almost at the entrance when Cidra acted out of desperation. Smoothly, swiftly, she moved against him with the dancing patterns of Moonlight and Mirrors. Given his current condition, the motions should have folded him gently to the ground.

But when he felt her touch, Severance reacted as if he were under attack. He swung around, blocking her with a swift, violent throw that caught Cidra totally off-guard. She was flat on her back before she even realized what had happened.

“Severance, wait!”

It was too late. He had vanished inside the safehold.

Chapter Fifteen

Severance was out of his head with fever. But even as she reached that conclusion, Cidra had to wonder where he had gotten the strength to toss her aside so easily. The next question was what had made him, even in a delirium, want to go back into the safehold?

She scrambled to her feet and raced to the vaulted entrance. There she braced one hand on the wall beside her. Touching something solid as she leaned into the chamber gave her a small sense of security. Inside, she could see nothing at all. The walls that allowed light to pass through them during the day produced no illumination during the night. There wasn’t any sign of either the Ghost narrative or the illusion trap.

“Severance? Come back, Teague. Please. You don’t want to be in there. Turn around and walk back toward me.”

When there was no answer, Cidra darted over to where the quartzflash had been left. She picked it up, flicked on full power, and swung the beam around inside the safehold entrance. The light fell on Severance almost at once. He was crouched beside the heavy stone Cidra had tried to use against the apparition of the bloodsucker. His large hands were curved around the smooth surface.

“What is it?” Cidra asked, cautiously taking a step into the safehold. She had to talk him out of here if she could. If both of them got trapped inside by the illusions, she wasn’t sure she would have the strength to lead him out. ‘Tell me what you’ve found, Severance.”

He was totally oblivious to her. His whole attention was on the stone. Cidra took another step inside, wondering at what point the illusions would be activated. Perhaps not until she tried to turn around and walk out. She studied Severance’s crouching form in the light of the quartzflash and knew she wasn’t going to be able to talk him out of the safehold. She was going to have to lead him forcibly back to safety.

Counting her steps in the hope that she could retrace them even through a hail of illusion, Cidra advanced slowly into the darkened safehold. Her cautious movement didn’t trigger any images. When she reached Severance, she touched his shoulder. This time he looked up at her. Cidra was shocked to see the raging fever in his eyes. She put her arm around him, and her voice instinctively slipped into the gentling, hypnotic cadence Harmonics used when they sought to soothe one of their own.

“Come with me, Severance. All is safe with me. Let me lead you to safety. Outside, the air is cool and calm. You’ll feel better outside. Come with me and be safe. Outside, all is serene.”

She felt him tremble and sensed that somewhere in his fevered mind he was trying to understand. Cidra also had the impression that he was torn between conflicting needs. She saw the way his hands rested on the stone.

“Is it the stone you want? Bring it with you, Severance. Pick up the stone and bring it with you. Let’s go outside where it’s cool and clear.”

His shoulder muscles flexed beneath her arm, and he picked up the stone. Cidra straightened, relieved when he stood up beside her. When she tugged on his arm, he followed her docilely. Warily she guided him toward the doorway, fully expecting to find their exit impeded by anything from a giant bloodsucker to a wall of light.

Nothing happened. Using the quartzflash, Cidra made it back outside with her patient in tow. Breathing a sigh of relief, she guided Severance to the wall and eased him down onto the $ ground. He was still astonishingly docile, willing to go where j she led as long as he had the stone.

“What is it about the rock, Severance? Why do you want it?”

He clutched it protectively. “Warm. Feels good. Feels warm I’m so cold.”

“You’re already burning up,” she whispered,.knowing that he didn’t really hear her. “Lie down and I’ll see if I can break that fever.” She pushed him down onto the ground. He curled around the stone and closed his eyes.

He did seem calmer, Cidra decided as she began bathing him. Perhaps the stone was having some beneficial effect. She couldn’t imagine what it could be, though. When she touched it, the hard, smooth sphere felt faintly warm. Perhaps it carried a residue of the heat it had collected during the day.

The hours dragged on toward dawn. With one eye on the small movements that occasionally occurred around the edge of the circle, and another on Severance, Cidra kept watch and worried about the fever. The pulser was never far from her hand, although she no longer had any fear of something crossing the unseen boundary of the circle. She kept the pulser close primarily because Severance’s last, clear instructions had been to do so. He was still the pilot in command, she thought as she filled the water bag for the fifth time. And she was still the one and only member of his crew.

As dawn filtered slowly through the tangle of overhead leaves and vines, Cidra decided that the stone wasn’t doing Severance much good. He still clung to it, but she didn’t like the way he seemed to have become dependent on it. The fever wasn’t abating, and the added warmth of the stone might easily be doing harm. Kneeling beside him, Cidra tried to remove it from his grasp.

“No.” He reacted sharply, protecting the sphere with both arms. For a moment his eyes opened, staring at her with fierce resistance. “Don’t touch it,” he said very clearly.

They were the first clear words he had spoken all night. Cidra tried to reason with him. “It’s warm, Severance. You need to be cool. Give me the stone. You can have it back later.”

“Don’t touch it.” His eyes closed again, but his grip on the stone didn’t loosen.

Cidra gave up on the task and went back to trying to cool him down with stream water. Around the perimeter of the circle the shift from night to day was taking place. A few choked shrieks marked the efforts of a few lingering hunters. She was getting used to the sounds of the jungle, Cidra realized dispassionately. She was amazed at how many things she was becoming accustomed to seeing, hearing, and doing these days.

As the day began to warm, Cidra became aware of a slight dizzy sensation. The light-headedness Severance had warned her about, she assumed. She wasn’t sure what to do about it. She didn’t dare risk eating any of the plant life. Severance had been convinced that there was too much possibility of being poisoned. Without die proper equipment she couldn’t test for toxins.

For a while she tried to convince herself that she could go another day without eating. After all, she had fasted more than once for a day or two in a secret effort to open her stubborn mind. It had been a long time ago, back when she had still believed she might be able to catapult herself into Harmonic hood by sheer willpower. The exercise hadn’t worked, although it had produced a light-headed feeling that for a while convinced her she might be onto some useful technique.

The problem today was that she simply couldn’t afford to be light-headed. Not with Harmony-knew-what prowling around outside the circle and a sick man on her hands. She had to maintain her strength, both physically and mentally. And that meant she was going to have to find something to eat.

She glanced toward the perimeter of the protected ground, looking for the remains of the hopper Severance had skinned and cleaned the previous evening. He had pushed the entrails outside the circle. There was no sign of anything, not even the head. Renaissance had taken care of the garbage in its own sure fashion.

Not that she wanted to eat whatever was left of the poor hopper. Cidra’s stomach grew queasy again just at the thought. She went back to the endless task of bathing Severance and tried to put food out of her mind.

But when she stumbled a little on a trip to the stream, she began to worry. She had no idea how long she was going to be trapped inside this circle with Severance. Common sense dictated that she not let herself grow weak. She was going to have to eat. Just existing on this planet seemed to take a lot of inner energy. Cidra eyed the pulser and wondered how hard it would be to hit something such as the hopper.

Surely the principles of aiming and firing a weapon couldn’t be fundamentally different than the task of collecting and focusing a mind for deep, concentrated study. Harmonic philosophy taught that all things could be assessed and comprehended. In addition to focusing and concentration, she would need a certain amount of coordination, Cidra supposed. She had that from her training in Moonlight and Mirrors.

Picking up the pulser, she went to the edge of the circle and sat cross-legged. It could be a long wait until something edible wandered close enough to assure her a clear shot. She took the time to slowly clear her mind of extraneous thought. If she was going to do this, she would do it quickly and cleanly. Using the techniques of meditation, she willed herself to an outer and inner stillness. She would become one with the weapon, not a fake Harmonic holding a foreign instrument of destruction. She must make the pulser an extension of herself.

Deliberately she fused herself and the pulser into a single entity. It wasn’t particularly difficult once she had cleared her mind of the ramifications of what she was about to do. In some ways she was merely applying the methods she used for programming a computer or writing a poem. The underlying philosophical harmony of all tasks was the same.

Time passed, bringing nothing into range except a slithering green snake that didn’t look very edible to Cidra. She waited. Behind her Severance was quiet, still wrapped around his precious rock.

When the small hopper flitted into view, Cidra’s hand came up and her finger squeezed the trigger without any hesitation. It was what she had been waiting for, and her body responded accordingly. The hopper flipped over, quivered for a second, and then went limp. Cidra lowered the pulser.

Slowly she got to her feet and shook herself out of the trance. As she stared at the dead creature all of her natural revulsion to eating meat returned in a sickening wave. This time she kept her stomach under control. She stepped cautiously out of the circle, caught the hopper by the ears, and yanked it back to safety.

For a moment she simply looked at her catch, wondering how she was going to find the nerve to cut into it. She had almost talked herself out of making the effort when she experienced another wave of unsteadiness. There was no point in waiting any longer. Resolutely she went over to where Severance lay and reached into the utility loop for the knife.

The job was, as Severance had said, not neat and tidy like a holotape of a dissection. Twice Cidra had to stop long enough to let the racking heaves pass. Both times she recovered and went back to the task. She knew the theory of what needed to be done. She’d had a very thorough education. When she was finished, she pushed the entrails and the head outside the circle.

She washed the hopper’s blood from her hands and let her stomach have its way one more time. Then she switched on the flamer and spitted a hindquarter on the point of the knife. Ignoring the hissing of crackling fat, she roasted her kill. She stilled her mind and her body before she took the first bite by repeating the familiar words that preceded a Harmonic meal.

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