The Dark Places (12 page)

Chapter Thirteen

I couldn’t rest any longer and fled
our sleeping quarters, but I’d kept the blanket Matt had wrapped around me. I
huddled in his navicon chair with every muscle tensed as I frowned at the
violent storm swirling past the observation window, leaving ice droplets
splattered across it. Long minutes crept by and Matt hadn’t returned. I’d
tallied thirty-five standard minutes on the control panel’s chronometer since
he’d gone.

My distracted gaze wandered to the
chronometer again and marked the painstaking tracking of the seconds up to thirty-six
eternal minutes. I eased an arm from the blanket’s fold to tap the ship’s
transmitter control. More minutes crawled by, and my third call announcement
signal in the past half an hour received no response.

I leaped up and ran to the sleeping
cabin, where I shed the blanket and tossed it on the sleep couch. I franticly
snatched up the environment suit from where Matt had left it. Although the
insulated material was waterproof, melted snow that hadn’t drained away pooled
on it in various places. I shook the water off and scrambled into the suit,
then sealed it up and tugged on the hood. I activated the thermostat controls
and noticed the suit’s power-pac needed recharging. It was three-quarters
depleted, but I wasn’t going far—I hoped. I tugged on my boots without much
attention as to which foot was what. Then I grabbed the gloves and shot through
our sleeping quarter’s door.

I paused at the last moment to snag
a ship transmitter from the emergency supplies storage bin before racing to the
airlock door. The
Stardancer
opened
and sealed her portal behind me. Before I could effectively plan what I was
about to do next, I stood alone outside the hull door, exposed to the full and
much increased fury scouring this nameless planet. The blizzard relented
several scant seconds and a fleeting break in the fast-scudding clouds allowed
me to glimpse the sun’s faint, bleary red dot hovering barely visible above the
distant horizon. A night darkness dominated by the ominous gray cloud cover
would soon claim the land.
And I forgot
to grab an emergency palm light!
No time to go back inside for one. I
needed to go before full darkness fell. Luckily, the transmitter I carried
could activate external flood lights on the ships hull to guide me back if true
night caught me. I clenched my teeth against the storm’s renewed lash.

Matt!
Alarm spike through my heart.
Where is he
?

I inched forward, feeling my
cautious way down the ramp stair that rapidly acquired a treacherous
accumulation. Ice pellets scoured my face and I squinted against the onslaught.
I cursed myself for not grabbing a pair of eye shields, also, as I clumsily
adjusted my hood with one gloved hand. My other grasped the single rail on my
left to steady my creeping progress and defy the wind that tried to sweep me
from the ramp.

At last my searching feet detected
no more steps, and I stood on the surface. I waded several paces forward
through the now midthigh-high, ice-crusted accumulation while the wind-driven
snows and long evening shadows rapidly siphoned away the last weak daylight.
The ramp’s whine as it retracted into the ship reached my ears during a momentarily
lull in the wind’s howling. Then the
Stardancer’s
hull door sighed, thudded shut, and sealed with a definite final
snick
.

I’d never felt so abandoned and
isolated before. Many times I’d thought the long, untamed winters on Dearleth
were bad, for they had walled the underground residences off from the surface
for weeks at a time. This was worse and more frightening, because there was no
other living presence on that planet that I knew of besides Matt—and
Timirshil-ka. But she was far away in both distance and, likely, another
dimension by then.

“
Matt!
” I shouted, but his name didn’t travel far. The wind muffled
and snatched my cry, then ruthlessly tossed it back at me.

I fumbled in the suit’s pocket for
the transmitter. I set it to home in on the transmitter he carried. It emitted
a steady chiming pulse. I squinted down at a tiny blue flashing arrow displayed
on the small transmitter. It pointed to my right. I trudged in the direction
where the
Fire
Dawn’s
wreck and A’lia’s grave lay as fast as the storm, the
wind-whipped deep snow, and pelting ice slivers would allow me.

The wreck’s faintly discerned
outlines came in view. I struggled on, leaning against the elements until I
stood beneath the large, unbroken main section, and I called again. The wind
rocked my body while I strained to hear any faint reply. I turned slowly around,
rechecking the transmitter’s range. It continued emitting the target pulse
signal. Matt was
here
—or should have
been here.

My overactive imagination kicked
into gear.
Did he fall and drop it? Was
he hurt and lying buried somewhere out here beneath the snow?
Anxiety made
me trample away a brief distance searching around for the other transmitter or
any vestige of a dark gray environment suit underneath the thigh-high mush. I
had to search fast because storm dusk had fallen.

A piercing, protesting squeal
grabbed my attention and I snapped my head up in alarm. A metallic clash
followed, reverberating through the wind’s keening. My feet clumsily swung
around in the snow toward the
Fire Dawn’s
skeleton from where the sounds had erupted.

Glad relief raced through me as
Matt’s figure carefully emerged from the open, lazbeam-scored hull portal. He
stepped onto a narrow ramp that hadn’t been there before. Likely, the loud crash
had resulted from him activating it.

“Matt!”

He stopped and peered through the
gathering gloom and slashing ice torrent toward me, then completed his ramp descent
in several leaps.

“Kailiri!
What
in blazes are you doing out here?”
he demanded as he tramped toward me. “I told you not to be concerned.” His
voice grew harsh. “If you’d been closer to the ramp when it opened, you could
have been hurt! You
should
not be
here.” He grasped my shoulders and hauled me close, where he sheltered me from
the brunt of the wind’s brutal assault.

I leaned contentedly against him,
not caring about the storm or his furious scowl.

“I see that in the future I’ll
either have to issue strict orders to you or tie you down, wife of mine. Let’s
return to the
Stardancer
.” His voice
was gruff.

I glanced up with belated
remembrance of why he’d come out here. “Have you—have you done all you set out
to do?”

“I have. Let’s go,” he said curtly
and led me away. He produced a small palm light to guide our way, then
extracted his ship transmitter and tapped it before replacing it in a pocket.
Bright lights flared ahead through the elements, flagging the ship’s position.

He didn’t speak again until we were
inside the
Stardancer’s
warm, dry
interior. When he did speak, molten gold fires glowered in his dark eyes’
centers. “
Why
, Kailiri? Why did you
risk exposing yourself and our child to danger and the storm again? I thought
you safe and secure within the
Stardancer
.
I would not have been gone so long if I’d known that I had a headstrong woman
who likes to gamble with her life.”

I stepped away from Matt’s fury.
Part of me reveled with savage delight that he expressed this much anxiety for
me. And part of me trembled. He grabbed my arm and led me to our cabin, where
he grimly proceeded to remove my outerwear again. I meekly submitted and dared
not peek up when he enclosed me within the blanket. He lifted me and placed me
with a solid thump on the sleep couch. “
Stay
,”
he ordered, as if I was a disobedient snow sled dog on Dearleth.

When he turned away and headed to
the cabin’s door, I tentatively spoke. “Matt?”

He paused on the opened door’s
threshold without turning.

“I tried to signal you upon the
transmitter several times. I received no answer. I became worried. I had to go
back out and find you.”

Tense moments passed before he
turned and stared without expression. I sat up with rising concern—he hadn’t
removed his own water-beaded gear yet either.

“Are you going out
again
?” My heart thudded in a rapid
tattoo of apprehension.

“No. I go to start lift sequence and
to program the
Stardancer
for a new
flight destination.”

His voice had been harsh and
uninviting of further inquiry, but Matt was right on one account: I
did
have headstrong tendencies. It
sounded like he’d decided to change our next planned land fall. I proceeded to
press for more details, despite all warning signs that he was furious with me
and was likely to continue to be so for some time.

“We’re not continuing on to Tivat?
Where will the new destination take us?”

Matt’s eyes narrowed and his lips thinned
a moment before he grated out a hoarse response.
“To the
Branis System, where I
will
remarry
you under my given name and under a closed-term contract—no matter what, Kai.
No more
flimsy excuses from you like
the ones you produced on Sanbourne.”

Oh!
I gulped and felt flattered and discomfited at the same time. But I dared more
questions and comments.

“Why must we remarry in the Branis
System? It’s an Inner System and farther away. Why not the Bileth System? You
could save time. After we married on Tivat, you could take the stones to your
friend, Seth, there and carry on with your other trade business.”

“
Branis
, because as soon as the records status update for my given
name is publicly registered, it will reach High Lord Rakeda’s notice and he’ll
demand that we appear before him. He doesn’t care what I do under my trade name
because it’s unconnected with his. However, he makes it his business to know
anything done under my family name, so I’m saving us aggravation and time by
being in the vicinity. He’ll want to assess you as soon as possible to
determine if you’re worthy of upholding the
precious
,
hallowed Rakeda family line,” he said with cold distance. His lips thinned and
gold sparks flared in his dark eyes, but this time I sensed his ire wasn’t for
me.

His suppressed bitterness
effectively silenced me. I withdrew into my blanket’s protective shelter and
stared wide-eyed. Matt stamped from the cabin in a temper. I lay staring at the
closed door a long while and vowed to avoid mentioning any subject that might
allude
to his autocratic parent in the future. Then I
puzzled over what Matt had been doing inside the wrecked shell of the
Fire
Dawn
.

Exhaustion and sleep soon claimed
my mind and body.

Chapter Fourteen

I nervously twisted the jewel-encrusted
gold-and-platinum joining band on my left wrist. It was the traditional
Drakisian symbol of my closed-term marriage contract with Lord Mattin Sian
Rakeda. Matt had reclaimed his ring, assuring me this fancy joining bracelet
was my own new ident-item for accessing the
Stardancer’s
navilog files.

I stood before our hotel room’s
wide window, staring with apprehension across the city’s busy thoroughfare
below our tower wing. Matt had preset the window’s polarized glass with the
remote currently resting on the inside ledge to allow me to look out, but
prying eyes couldn’t see me or peer into the room. My gaze traveled across to
the distant verdant hills and clear green skies of Matt’s birth planet, Drakis.

Matt had left three hours ago to
visit his family’s landholding residence upon his sire’s imperious request. As he
had predicted, a daunting request had arrived by telebeam aboard the
Stardancer
soon after our arrival and
remarriage upon Selak, an Inner World in the Branis System. I’d scanned the
summons upon the comm unit’s display. Matt’s sire had ordered him to Drakis and
to appear alone without his “nameless, upstart new bride.”

At first I’d felt hurt and
bewildered by the obvious animosity against me in the message—no, edict
command—but I’d managed not to care after a while. I harbored no burning desire
to meet the redoubtable High Lord Rakeda either.

Matt had gone with smoldering
resentment and reluctance to answer his father’s summons soon after our arrival
on Drakis. Before leaving, he’d ensured that every detail for my comfort and
security was well-established. He had given me credit voucher cards in both his
given and his assumed name for me to draw upon for any reason or purchase. And
he’d requested personal ident locks on the hotel door, instead of conventional
entry cards. But Matt didn’t want me wandering around the city without him, so
I stayed put. I hadn’t bothered dressing for the day either and had, instead,
kept on my new, ankle-length gold satin nightgown that he’d purchased for me as
a wedding gift on Selak.

I listlessly turned from the
window. Three hours had crept by and I missed him. I scornfully denounced
myself as a lone moon hugging close to its planet. One thought cheered
me—actually, two—and I didn’t care that Matt might find the transactions on his
hotel account. I’d registered my new name with Alliance Credit Central and
discovered Harry had transferred both my final pay, plus my Real Quiet One’s
generous tips that I’d tagged on the Lilith’s bar comp. So, I’d taken further
advantage of my solitude and used the room’s comm-net to type up and send a
telebeam message to the Manning System and on to Harnaru. I kept it brief,
mindful that the charges would go to Matt.

Harry,
don’t worry. I’m still alive and happily married to my Hot Date.
Will contact you soon.
Big hugs and many thanks for
everything!
Kai.

I grinned, imagining Harry’s
response when the message finally reached him in a day or two. First he’d rant
because I hadn’t included any contact data, but I didn’t
know
where I’d be later. And then he would settle down and share
the news with the Lilith’s staff.

No message would be sent to
Dearleth
.

I crossed the plush red carpet and
sat on the wide, unmade bed’s edge. The closet door stood open. I had forgotten
to close it. My dispassionate gaze roved over the garment assortment Matt had
purchased for me on Selak, where I’d threatened to walk out of the store if he
didn’t stop buying me things. He’d asked me to bring them along after we
landed. I lay down slowly amidst the rumpled top sheet and placed my hand upon
the pillow where Matt’s head had earlier rested.

Events from the past eighteen
standard days unraveled in my memory. Profound weakness had plagued Matt ten of
those days after our sojourn to the MX-21ZG System. His anger with me had thawed.
After the
Stardancer
had lifted from
the dying world and had been on a flight path to the Branis System for several
hours, I learned why he had been inside the
Fire
Dawn’s
wrecked shell when I went seeking him in the ice storm.

He’d slowly approached me while I’d
stood before the observation window. I hadn’t turned. He’d forgiven me for
maneuvering him into seeking Timirshil-ka, but he hadn’t forgiven me for
endangering myself.

Matt had spoken my name with a
gentleness that had been absent from his tone since we left the dying world. “I
had to retrieve this from the
Fire Dawn
before we lifted,” he had said. “I’d almost forgotten its existence. It
belonged to my mother,
then
it was A’lia’s. This is
yours now, doll.”

I still hadn’t turned. I didn’t
want to touch or own anything that had once belonged to A’lia, except her mate,
and I didn’t particularly care much for him in that moment because of his earlier
frosty disapproval.

Matt had turned me to face him and
given me a heavy frown before he held out a dagger. Precious gems encrusted the
hilt, as did a finely detailed, embossed gold design. I stared, not reaching
for it.

“My mother’s people are a humanoid
species. They occupied Drakis long before Old Terran colonists arrived. She was
the youngest daughter of a regent in a small province domain. This was her
ceremonial symbol of rank.” Matt had smiled wryly. “Her people weren’t a
peaceful race, as you can surmise from this symbol. They regularly attacked
Terran colonists for three centuries.” Undaunted by my lack of response, he had
continued extending the dagger.

“Is your mother alive?” I
hesitantly asked, still not touching the beautiful article. He’d referred to
her in past tense as if it wasn’t so.

“She is not.” He’d seemed to
struggle with an emotion before forcing out his next words between clenched
teeth. “Lady Thais Nevat Rakeda boarded her personal intersystem vessel alone after
honoring her open-term, ten-year marriage contract with Lord Markan Rakeda, and
calmly aimed her ship in a direct course into the golden sun at the center of
Branis System.”

I stared in stunned disbelief at
his expressionless face.

“She hated my father and she hated
her life, for she had discovered two years before that she was dying from a
slow, consuming disease. She gave me this dagger one day. She instructed me to
give it to my wife when I married and that it would always protect her. Then
she touched my forehead and told me not to cry or worry about her, for she was
leaving all pain behind, and I never saw my mother again. I didn’t understand
at the time because I was all of nine standard years old then. I only knew that
no one ever laughed or smiled in our house.”

Matt had studied my face in the
ensuing silent seconds before he slid the dagger into a worn leather sheath and
laid it aside. He spoke in a distant tone. “I once said that you were almost
like A’lia in spirit, Kailiri. I was wrong. You’re most like the Lady Thais in
your spirit and determination. I hadn’t realized the similarity until you tried
redirecting the
Stardancer
to the
dwarf sun system, and also when I saw you standing below the
Fire Dawn’s
wreck in the storm.”

He’d frowned, and I’d defensively
crossed my arms and then narrowed my eyes.
Not
that again
.

“Kailiri—you could have gotten lost
in that storm. I might not have found you in time,” he’d thundered. “
And
you could have been hurt by the
Fire Dawn’s
old ramp! It wasn’t working
properly. The path interference sensors weren’t functioning, and
nothing
would have stopped that ramp
from crushing you.”

I’d understood then that Matt’s
anger stemmed from his fear of losing me. Two women he’d loved had gone into
death’s darkness. I also realized then that my husband cherished me. My heart
soared. I had given him a sunny smile and then rose on my toes to kiss him.
Passion had followed, healing over and resealing the temporary rift between us.

Afterward, when I’d lain cuddled in
his arms, Matt moved away with a promise to return and brought the dagger to me
again.

“A’lia disliked my mother’s dagger
and wouldn’t touch it. She didn’t believe it possessed protective powers.
Despite that, I usually carried it for her whenever she traveled on the
Fire Dawn
. Perhaps, she was right—it
didn’t save her when the ship crashed. My mother’s people were great believers
in talismans. I’ve always found comfort in believing that before my mother left
on her chosen end, she’d given me her symbolic protection and love through
this. In turn, I’m offering you my protection and heart with Lady Thais Nevat
Rakeda’s dagger now, Kai.”

I hesitated another moment, then
reached to take the small, beautiful dagger. A warm, tingling prickle shot
through my fingers before vanishing. I’d promised Matt I would carry it with me
whenever we traveled.

My memories faded. I stared at the
open closet. The dagger lay protected in its leather sheath, cushioned between
some unpacked clothing in a flight bag. I was no believer in superstition, but
I would cherish anything Matt gave me that linked me to his past and helped me
understand the mysterious dark places I was still discovering within him, even
without
Timirshil-ka’s
puzzling life essence. I
turned on the bed, facing away from the closet, and stared across at green
Drakisian skies through the polarized window.

I had been married to Matt Lorins
under an open contract term for fifty-three standard days—seven-and-a-half weeks—but
I’d only been married to Lord Mattin Sian Rakeda for two days. I didn’t know
which of his aspects I preferred, but I couldn’t forget that it was Matt Lorins
I’d first loved. It would take me longer to reconcile him with his other aspect
as a titled hold lord in this world’s society.

I raised my right arm and frowned
at the tiny pale spot where I’d had the apparently useless Fertipressor
implants removed at a medi-center on Selak after confirming my pregnancy. I
didn’t want anything to compromise my little one’s development. The physicians
had tested the implants and sworn there was no defect in them. I clasped my
arms tightly over my still flat stomach and sent warm, encouraging thoughts to
the little new life before I rose from the bed.

My restless thoughts drove me to
the window once more, where I stared out toward the distant green hills beyond
the city limits. Suddenly, I knew I would always prefer Matt Lorins over Lord
Mattin Sian Rakeda. Our traders’ life upon the
Stardancer
had been intimate. We had long, solitary days to
ourselves to love each other, but there would soon be a child. Instinct warned
me that Matt’s concern about his son’s upbringing would likely lead to him
insisting our child be firmly planet-based—probably here—and not a starship baby.

Clicking accompanied by a low hum
caught my attention. The security locking mechanism on the door was unlatching.
I turned expectantly. Matt stepped across the threshold and looked at me before
he secured the door. It was all I could do to restrain from flinging myself at
him. I forced my body to wait with assumed composure by the window.

He strode to the middle of the room
and stopped as if he knew my internal struggle. I was certain he did, if our
pesky imprinting and his mind-reading abilities still worked. Matt gave me a
maddening, teasing smile. I was determined not to move one millimeter toward
him. Just to show him.

That one elusive dimple I’d
discovered weeks ago, which rarely appeared, was on display when he closed the
distance and halted a pace away before me. “Well, doll? I leave you for a few
hours, and you treat me as if I was a stranger when I return?”

I stepped close and entwined my
arms around his neck. His warm lips closed demandingly upon mine. He was still
my Matt Lorins. He loosened one hand on my waist long enough to touch the
window control. Heavy red brocade drapery slid across the window to further
ensure our privacy. Then he slipped the thin straps on my gown down my
shoulders and arms. The gold satin cascaded onto the carpeted floor. I wore
nothing underneath. His hands caressed my breasts and lower abdomen before he
swung me up in his arms, carried me to the bed, and made gentle love to me.

****

“Do you feel like exploring a bit
of my world with me, doll?” he asked. I lay in his arms with my head resting drowsily
upon his chest.

I trailed one languid hand around
his navel area, tracing the tantalizing dark swirling pattern that the soft
hairs above his groin formed there.
“Where?”
I
mumbled, wanting to remain where I was for the rest of that day and night. But
Matt was restless by nature, and he still seemed not to require as much sleep
as other mortals—even without Timirshil-ka’s essence adjoined within him.

“Dinner first at a secluded
restaurant,” he said, “then we’ll explore.”

“Are we walking or will we go by a
land flitter upon this exploration?” I murmured into his shoulder and tried not
too hard to keep my eyes open.

“Both, I think. But wear something
nice from your new wardrobe. I want to show off my beautiful, precious treasure
today.”

“Umm…,” I answered with a big smile
and settled more comfortably into his arms.

Matt laughed and held me away from
his shoulder. “You cannot sleep now, doll. We must be up and about if we wish
to go before the sun leaves the sky.”