The Final Key: Part Two of Triad (41 page)

"I can't be certain." It was true, though she struggled to admit it. "But we'll never know unless we try." She forced out the truth she had denied for so long. "It isn't as if he has any other chance."

Rajindia glanced at Eldrinson. "It is your decision."

He answered quietly. "Try."

22

Toe Viewing Chamber

The Bard particularly disliked hospitals at night Death waited in the halls, at home in the dark hours. Nor had he ever liked the world Diesha, with its red hills, red mountains, and red air. Such a harsh place. Even after his visits during his last trip here, this ISC hospital felt strange and unwelcoming. He slouched on the sofa in the viewing room, half asleep, hungry but unable to eat. His legs ached. "Would you like some kava? I'm going for some." He opened his eyes and fumbled on the sofa for his glasses. When he put them on, the blur standing in front of him resolved into Soz, dimly lit by a lamp across the room. Denric was sprawled in an armchair near the door, his head back and his eyes closed. They were the only family members who had accompanied him to Diesha. Del and Chaniece had stayed home to look after Dalvador and the younger children. He wished the doctors would let Roca travel, but they hadn't, so he would deal with this all himself.

He sat up straight, as tired as when he had first tried to go to sleep. "Yes, kava would be good. Thank you."

Denric yawned and opened his eyes. "I'll go with you," he told Soz. 'Take a look around." He stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles. Despite the curl of hair that stuck up over his ear, he no longer looked like a boy. It bemused Eldrinson that yet another of his sons had turned into a man, this one a scholar who planned to attend the university on Parthonia if no more wars intervened.

"Not much to see at the canteen," Soz said. "This is my first trip offworld in years," Denric said. "I want to see everything."

Soz squinted at him. "In the middle of the night?"

"Maybe not now," he allowed. "But at least the kava place. I've never been to a canteen."

"Well, hell," Soz said. "Why not?"

Eldrinson scowled at her. "Sauscony, watch your language." He knew she was a soldier and probably said worse when he wasn't around, but his instinctive parental reaction came out anyway.

"Sorry, Hoshpa." She didn't glare the way she would have in her earlier teen years. She wasn't a child anymore, either. His littie girl had grown into a formidable woman.

As Denric stood up, Eldrinson rolled his shoulders, working out the stiffness. The viewing window across the room was dark and opaque. The doctors, Callie Irzon and Tine Loriez, were in there. They could have worked on Althor in a biomech lab, but they didn't consider it necessary. They weren't operating, only trying to communicate with his node. They had been cloistered with him for such a long time. Hours.

Soz followed his gaze. "We didn't hear anything while you were sleeping. We checked at the doctor's station outside."

Denric came over to her. "It's taking too long."

"He's been in a coma for months," Soz said. "Even if this helps, it won't happen immediately." She didn't sound convinced by her own words.

"Yes." Eldrinson rubbed the muscles in his neck, which felt like cords. He wondered if they would ever relax again.

"Want to come with us?" Denric asked him.

He had seen plenty of canteens in his travels with Roca. He found them about as interesting as an inert log. "I should wait here, in case anyone comes with a report."

After the children left, Eldrinson stretched out his legs, crossed his arms, and closed his eyes. His attempts to sleep had so far been futile, but he tried anyway.

Eventually the door opened again. Footsteps entered, only Denric's heavier tread. Eldrinson yawned. "Did Soz stay in the canteen?" He opened his eyes—and froze.

"Shannon?" Eldrinson stood up with alacrity. "What the blazes are you doing here?" The doctors had been adamant; Shannon wasn't to leave Lyshriol until they understood if travel would adversely affect his remarkable brain. Eldrinson spoke sternly. "Does Rajindia know?"

Shannon's face was hard to read in the dim light. Then he spoke in cultured Skolian Flag. "I'm sorry. I don't understand you."

Saints almighty. Eldrinson had never heard that voice in his life. Nor did he sense Shannon's mind. He was facing a stranger, a man in his twenties, perhaps, though it was hard to tell with Skolians, who could cheat the aging process. Now that he looked more closely, he realized tiiis man had a stronger jaw than Shannon and more classic features, with blue eyes instead of gray. In fact, he looked like one of those infernal holovid actors women liked so much. His yellow hair hung straight and thick to his collar. He took better care of it than Shannon, who let his hair grow in a shaggy mane until someone coerced him into trimming it.

Although Eldrinson was fluent in several Skolian languages, he rarely used any but Iotic. He answered in stumbling Flag. "My sorry. I think you are other person."

"You're the second person I've met here who reacted that way to me." The man lifted his hand, palm up in a traditional Skolia greeting. "My pleasure at your acquaintance, sir. I am Chad."

"You doctor Althor?" No, that wasn't right. Eldrinson tried again. "You treat my son?"

The man paled, going so white that Eldrinson saw the change despite the dim light. Chad responded in heavily accented Iotic. "You are Althor's father?"

"Yes. I am."

The young man bowed deeply. "My honor at your presence, Your Majesty."

Well, hell. Eldrinson was too tired for bowing and tides. He wanted to tell this Chad to stop, but his family kept insisting he learn to accept Skolian protocols.

"Thank you," Eldrinson said, which wasn't really the right response, but would do. "Have you news about Althor?"

"I'm not a doctor. I'm a—a friend of Althor's."

Eldrinson didn't recall hearing about a Chad. Then again, he knew so little about Althor's life, almost nothing of the last two years. He inclined his head. "I am glad to meet you."

"You are?" Chad immediately looked as if he wished he could take back his words.

"Shouldn't I be?" Eldrinson asked.

Chad pushed back his hair, moving with unusual grace, another reason Eldrinson thought he might be a performer. "I mean no offense, sir," he said. "Sire?" He seemed bewildered.

"Eldrinson."

"Your Majesty?"

"Call me Eldrinson. Please."

"Yes, Sire. I mean, Eldrinson."

"It is kind of you to visit Althor." His son and this fellow must have been good friends, for Chad to come even when the doctors gave no hope. "It is so late."

Chad seemed relieved to change the subject "We had two shows tonight. We just got out."

"Are you an actor?"

"Yes, I am." Chad's face relaxed. "We're doing Harvest of Light."

"Harvest of Light," Eldrinson mused. "That is the story about the two brothers, yes? They find a teacher for their village. The older brother falls in love with her, and the younger one gets upset. Then a sandstorm destroys the village."

Chad's expression lit up. "Yes! That's right I play the younger brother."

"It's a good role." It pleased Eldrinson that they had this in common. "Years ago, my wife danced the teacher in a ballet based on the story." It was a gift to say those words without the pain that had weighed on him since his nightmares about her capture. She might never regain all her memories, and she had to relearn a great deal, but she was Roca again, the woman he loved.

"You must have enjoyed the performance," Chad said.

"Yes, I did."

The conversation ground to a halt "Well." Eldrinson tried to think of more to say. Chad motioned toward the window. "Have you seen Althor?"

"Not yet. They haven't finished." He hesitated. "Or maybe they are done, but they aren't getting any results." "Finished?" Chad went rigid. "What happened?" Eldrinson wanted to kick himself. Of course Chad didn't

know. With care, he explained what they were doing. "His doctors aren't optimistic," he concluded, fearing to express his own hope. "But they were willing to try."

Chad started toward the window, then stopped and turned back. "You mean he might wake up?"

Eldrinson went over to him. "Son, don't get your hopes up. Even if he does revive, he will probably have severe brain damage."

Chad twisted the sleeve of his sweater. He seemed in shock.

"Are you all right?" Eldrinson asked.

"I just—I can't believe even a tiny chance exists that I—I might see him again. Talk to him. Touch him."

Eldrinson felt the same way, though he couldn't say it aloud, especially to a stranger. In fact, Althor's friends never talked this way. They tended to be laconic and military in bearing. They certainly never showed their emotions. Well, Chad was an actor. He was supposed to emote. Odd, though, that he and Althor were friends. How did they meet? And "touch him"? What did that mean?

Hell and damnation. Chad wasn't a. friend friend. He was a "friend" of the type Eldrinson had tried very hard not to think of when it came to Althor. Eldrinson stepped back and banged into the sofa. He stumbled to the side and bumped his shin on the end table. Jerking back, he straightened up, crossed his arms, and stared at Chad.

The actor hesitated. "Eldrinson—"

"Your Majesty," he said sharply.

Chad flushed. "My apologies, Your Majesty."

Eldrinson didn't know what to do. He had managed to forget his son might have a "friend." The harder he tried to block the thought, the more he thought about it. Did they hold hands? Did they—no, he couldn't think about that.

"Father?" A perplexed voice came from the entrance. "What's wrong?"

Eldrinson almost jumped. Denric was standing in the doorway holding a large mug patterned with holos of the Red Mountains. Steam curled up from it and around his face. He glanced at Chad, then at his father, his forehead furrowed.

"Deni, come on. Move." Soz's grouchy voice came from

behind him. "I'm so tired I'm going to fall over if I don't sit down."

Denric looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. "Gods forbid." But he did come into the room. Soz stalked in behind him, holding two mugs. She hesitated when she saw Chad, but then she said, "My greetings, Chad," as if he were the most natural sight in the world.

Eldrinson recrossed his arms and remained by the end table.

Soz glanced at him. "You can relax, Father. We aren't under attack, you know."

"What's going on?" Denric continued to look confused, standing in the middle of the room with his steaming kava. Chad glanced from Denric to Soz to Eldrinson as if he didn't know what to do.

Eldrinson spoke stiffly to his daughter. "You have the acquaintance of this man?"

"Oh, Father." She sounded exasperated. "'This man' is Chad. And yes, I have his acquaintance."

Denric scowled at them. "Well, I don't"

Soz motioned at Denric with one of her mugs. "Chad, this is my brother Denric. Please don't call him 'Your Highness.' It makes him terribly cocky. Denric, this is Chad. He's an actor."

"My greetings, Chad," Denric said. Then he glared at Soz. " 'Terribly cocky?' You're in a mood."

Soz set one of her mugs on the table in front of where Eldrinson had been sitting. "This is for you," she told her father. She went to an armchair at the other end of the couch, dropped into it, and put her booted feet up on the table. She took a swallow of her kava, then lowered the mug and let out a satisfied breath. "I needed that."

Chad had turned red. "Perhaps I should leave."

Eldrinson thought it an excellent idea, but before he could agree, Soz spoke firmly. "Absolutely not Chad." She motioned at the sofa. "Here. Sit. Stay with us."

Eldrinson scowled at her. "If the boy wants to leave, you shouldn't push him around."

"Oh, for darning sakes." She glared at him, then spoke more quiedy to Chad. "Stay. Please."

When Chad continued to hesitate, Eldrinson decided it

would behoove him to quit acting as if this harmless actor were threatening him. He didn't want to deal with Chad, but if he had tried earlier to deal with all this, perhaps he wouldn't be estranged from his son. Lowering his arms, he said, "You needn't leave." Soz looked relieved. "Yes."

Chad nodded awkwardly. With his eyes downcast, he sat on the couch near Soz's chair, which was the farthest he could get from Eldrinson.

Soz fixed Denric with a stare. "You, too."

Denric cleared his throat. "Well. Sure." He sat in his armchair, his hands folded around his mug. He glanced at his father and sent a mental knock, but Eldrinson kept his barriers up. Although he had no idea how much Denric knew about Althor, it was hard to keep secrets in a family of empaths. Denric had probably guessed about Chad. It wouldn't surprise Eldrinson if everyone had known except him; he seemed slower than his children in picking up these things. Sensing moods didn't mean he understood the reasons for them.

The tension in the room was so heavy, Eldrinson wondered that no one creaked under its weight. Surely Chad felt it; Althor wouldn't have liked someone who wasn't an empath. Or maybe he would have, if his interest had been purely physical. Eldrinson couldn't handle that thought, so he decided to stop thinking. He pushed back his spectacles. His head throbbed.

"So," Soz said. Then she ran out of words. She took another swallow of kava.

"So." Denric said, his tone a perfect replica of hers. He smirked and she glowered at him.

Eldrinson limped to the couch and sat on the other end, as far from Chad as he could manage. Everyone tried not to stare at anyone—except Soz, of course, who fixed her father with her indomitable gaze.

"Chad comes to see Althor every day," Soz said. "Even when he gets off work late."

"Oh." Eldrinson wished he could have done the same for his son. He nodded stiffly to Chad. "We appreciate your loyalty to Prince Althor."

"You better not call us princes," Denric said. "Soz thinks it gives us swelled heads."

Soz laughed, her strain easing. "You never call me Princess Soz."

Denric stared at her in horror. "That's because I value my life."