Authors: Cyndi Friberg
“It isn’t important right now.”
“Is it true?”
“Yes.”
Why wasn’t she pleased by the confirmation? This was so strange.
Loneliness pressed in, making her chest ache and her head pound. Why didn’t her armor compensate for the emotional spike? Something was wrong. She struggled against her bonds, tossing her head from side to side.
What was wrong with her?
“Saebin.” Warm fingers stroked her face. “Can you hear me, sweetheart? Come back to me.”
The vision freed her by degrees. Lyrik’s voice drew her back. She was cradled in his arms, surrounded by the sweet scent of flowers. A sob escaped her, releasing the tension in her chest. “I … do you smell …”
“Flowers?” Disbelief rumbled through his tone. “I thought I was imagining it.”
“I saw Krystabel again.” She opened her eyes, blinking against the light. “I didn’t actually see her; I just heard her voice.”
“Did you smell flowers the first time?”
She nodded. “How long did the vision last?”
“Not long. How many times have you heard her voice?”
She sat up more in his lap, then on the floor. Thank god they had the lounge to themselves. The crew would think she’d lost her mind. She licked her lips and resisted the urge to curl back into his warm arms.
“Just once,” she replied. “When she brought me out of stasis. She said she’d released my Mystic energy, and then I woke up in the lab.”
“Have your abilities changed since you came out of stasis?” He sounded dubious.
“It’s hard to say. I was so weak I could hardly stand when I woke up.”
“And the rest has been one crisis after another?” She nodded. “What did she say this time? Were there images or just her voice?”
She explained what she’d seen and felt as succinctly as she could. “I thought it was another memory flash until I heard Krystabel. Krysta told me she smells flowers, too, when Krystabel appears to her. This is all so strange.”
“As soon as we drop off the guards, I’ll set course for the Conservatory. We have to get you to the Mystics.” He glanced away, his chest expanding with a deep breath. “I don’t know how to help you.”
She’d nearly killed their leader. Why would the Mystics want to help her? “What about the NRS? Isn’t their protest drawing attention to the Conservatory?”
“We’ll use it as a diversion. The ship is undetectable, so all we’ll need to do is get one of the Mystics to teleport onboard.”
“Do you have someone in mind?” Now she sounded dubious.
“Trey’s brother is a Mystic. He’s also your aunt’s life mate.”
“The High Queen is married to Trey’s brother?”
“Yep. Tal dar Aune. That’s Master Tal to you.” He helped her to her feet with an encouraging smile. “Maybe you should lie down for a while. It will take us several hours to reach the Conservatory.”
“I’m too anxious to sleep.”
“You’re exhausted.”
“I need to run a combat simulation or …”
He smiled and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I’d love to help you with the ‘or,’ but I need to find somewhere to drop these guards. There is no telling where this mess will lead us or how long it will take to resolve. I’d rather be rid of them now. The
Gale
doesn’t have a simulator bay, however, it’s got a well-equipped gym. You can kick the resistance bag until your muscles ache, just don’t discharge your weapons.”
After demonstrating how each apparatus worked, Lyrik left her alone in the gym. Saebin experimented with the settings and positions of the various pieces of equipment. She would have preferred a live sparring partner. Still, the resistance bag came close. She pummeled the body-shaped bag, striking each lighted target as it flashed. It measured the speed of her response and the accuracy of her attack.
“Damn, woman, I’m sure glad you’re on my team.”
Dro Tar’s comment made her smile. “Are the guards off the ship?” she asked without breaking the rhythm of her routine.
“Yep. We’ll be at the Conservatory before they reach the nearest settlement.”
She paused and looked over her shoulder. Dro Tar had slipped her hands into the back pockets of her faded blue jeans. A cropped tee shirt displayed her toned abdomen. Today’s slogan read, “Yes I do, but not with you.”
“How well do you know Tal?”
“Not as well as I know Trey. What’s your boggle?”
Saebin grabbed a towel off a nearby shelf and dried her face. “D-159 was trained to mistrust. It’s hard to break out of her mindset.”
“I can only imagine. If it helps at all, Trey and Tal were both instrumental in your rescue.”
Saebin averted her gaze. Her definition of rescue obviously differed from Dro Tar’s. Cyrus had treated her no differently than Hydran. “Can I gain access to the refugee files after I shower?”
“We’ve been through them twice.”
“I must have missed something.” Saebin wrapped the towel around her neck. “My handler was there when I came out of stasis. I know her voice.”
“I’m not doubting what you heard.” Dro Tar led her from the gym. “If this woman is working for Cyrus, he would have covered his tracks.”
“I need something to do. I have no — objective.” She stumbled over the word.
Dro Tar ducked into her quarters and returned with a small, thin device. “I uploaded the personnel files as well as any information I could find about the dispersal of the refugees. Have at it.”
After a quick shower, Saebin returned to the aft lounge. She opened the viewport and activated the datascreen. Dro Tar was right; Cyrus would have concealed the movements of his accomplice. Still, she would search for any anomaly.
She lost track of time as she scoured the files, reading and re-reading each entry. The lounge door slid open, and she glanced up from the screen. A tall, lanky youth strolled into the room. Tann, her brain supplied his name almost subconsciously.
“Do you mind if I play minrell?” He nodded toward the table behind her.
She shifted her chair, bringing the game table into her periphery vision. “Of course not.”
He plopped into one of the two chairs and activated the game. “The commander wants us all to take a break every few hours. Doesn’t want to burn us out, I guess.”
Why was he justifying his presence? She hadn’t thought it odd until he explained. Shifting her chair again, she looked at the lad more closely. He’d scooted his chair back from the table as the game loaded. His long legs were braced apart, hands resting lightly on his knees. He glanced at her and smiled.
There was nothing specific in his manner to set Saebin on edge, still she pushed back from the table.
“What are you working on?” He glanced at the game table, then back at her.
“Research.” Her input ring vibrated, and she powered down the datascreen. She made it to her feet before he lunged for her. She knocked him backward with a swipe of her forearm. His hip hit the minrell table, preventing his fall. She raised her fist and aimed it at his heart. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
He made a subtle movement, and the object tucked up his sleeve slid into the palm of his hand. Much to his credit, he didn’t speak, allowing nothing to distract him. His dark gaze focused on her face, his stance loose and ready.
Did he honestly think he could reach her before her pulse rendered him unconscious? He was either incredibly arrogant or ignorant of her abilities. Either way she was finished indulging him. She sent out a Mystic pulse and waited for him to fall.
A slow, cocky smile curved his lips. “You didn’t think it would be that easy, did you?”
He kicked her hand upward as she shot. Her energy stream flew across the room in a useless arch. She jump kicked, spinning in a tight circle. He answered with a sharp counterstrike. Agile and surprisingly strong, he matched her blow for blow.
She shot again, grazing the side of his neck. He yelped, but kept right on coming. The remaining energy hit the hull, triggering an alarm. He scowled and surged forward, determination hardening his features.
As if controlled by the same puppet master, they raised their hands at exactly the same time. A dense mist burst from the slender device in his right hand, and he slapped her chest with his other hand. She sent a narrow stream of energy into his brain. The mist hit her full in the face. She staggered backward. He shrieked, flailing uncontrollably before collapsing in a hapless pile.
Shock gave way to panic as the stinging in her eyes escalated to searing pain. Rubbing her eyes increased the heat, so she reached blindly for a chair. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and each breath multiplied the burning.
“Help me!” she cried. Darkness closed in, and fire sank ever deeper.
Lyrik ran through the corridor, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d flipped on surveillance in the aft lounge just in time to watch Tann spray Saebin in the face with an infuser. What had the mist contained, and how the hell had Tann gotten close enough to attack?
“Medical emergency to the aft lounge,” he shouted before realizing his skeleton crew didn’t include a physician. “Zane, I guess that’s you. I’ll meet you in the infirmary.”
Pausing long enough to grab the infuser out of Tann’s lifeless hand, Lyrik scooped Saebin into his arms and rushed for the infirmary. Zane was waiting as well as two other crewmen. Lyrik placed Saebin on the treatment table, his mouth so dry he could hardly speak.
“Tann sprayed her with this.” He held up the device so Zane could see it. “She was unconscious when I got there.”
“How did he get close enough to use an infuser on her?” Zane muttered as he activated the primary scanner. He had flirted with the idea of becoming a doctor before his wanderlust set in. Though Zane’s medical training was minimal, Lyrik was thankful for it now.
“An alarm went off so I turned on the camera. They were already fighting. I have no idea why he was still standing.” He glanced at the other two men. “Go get his body and bring it here.”
“Yes, sir,” they responded in unison.
Zane shook his head, blue-black hair brushing his cheeks. “I don’t know what this is. It’s spreading like wildfire. Shit!” He injected her with something, and her heartbeat stabilized for a moment. “Can we get her out of this suit? It’s releasing adrenaline and god knows what else.”
Lyrik took her hand. Her fingers were like ice, and his heart gave another lurch. “She has to trigger it or the suit overloads.”
Wiping his eyes with his forearm, Zane looked from the scans to Saebin and back. “I’m not a doctor, sir. I don’t know how to combat this.”
No!
Lyrik stepped closer to the table, pressing her hand against his chest. “Can you put her in stasis until we reach the Conservatory?”
“I’ll try, but this is so far out of my —”
Light flashed through the infirmary. Zane squinted into the glare, while Lyrik drew his pulse pistol and turned to confront the intruder. Vee stood in the middle of the room, his black robes a stark contrast to his snow-white hair.
“I will take the female.” Vee glided forward, his emerald gaze focused on Saebin.
“Like hell you will.”
His brow arched in challenge, and his intricately woven hair uncoiled, trailing behind him on the floor. “Ye prefer to watch her die?”
Lyrik swallowed hard. “How did you know …” Vee was damn near omniscient. He knew what he wanted to know. But Saebin had tried to kill him. “Treat her here.”
“I need the assistance of other healers.”
“Can’t they —” Vee shouldered past him and lifted Saebin into his arms.
“I had only to ignore her peril, and she would be dead.
Do not
insult me again.” He flashed out of the infirmary as suddenly as he had entered.
“Okay, that was just creepy.” Zane turned off the medical scanner and picked up a piece of paper from the treatment table. “Where did this come from?”
“What is it?”
The adhesive backing had caused the paper to stick to itself. He carefully unfolded the square and held it so Lyrik could read it.
All Abominations must die. — NRS
“Tann was NRS?” Lyrik trembled, the adrenaline spike not yet dissipated.
“Not that I knew of.”
The two crewmembers returned with Tann’s body. A quick scan revealed a foreign object grafted to his skull. Zane followed the thin tail extending from the object to something larger embedded in the hollow above his clavicle. He made a small incision and withdrew the larger object.
“Whatever it was, it was powered by firestone.”
“What?” Lyrik took the glowing rectangle from his apprentice and wiped away the blood. “Only Mystics can charge firestones. This doesn’t make sense.”
“Even Mystics have their price.” Zane shrugged. “Or they’ve found a way to bypass the Mystics.”
“If they’ve found a way to charge firestones without a Mystic …” He tossed the firestone chip onto Tann’s motionless chest and shook his head. “The NRS doesn’t have the funding for body modifications. This stinks all the way to the Day Moon.”
“I’ll dig out the actual device and see if Hermlin can figure out what it does.”
Lyrik nodded and left the infirmary. He thought he’d chosen his crew carefully. Every one of these men had shipped out with him repeatedly. He felt like such a fool. Locking himself in his cabin, he blocked all external controls, then accessed the secure frequency Trey had given him.
“What’s going on?” Trey responded with an encrypted audio signal.
“One of my crew just tried to assassinate Saebin in the name of the NRS.”
“You sound more than annoyed. How close did he come?”
“A lot closer than I would have thought possible. He has some sort of device in his head that shields him from Mystic pulses.”
“Are you sure he was NRS? They’re a pain in the ass, but they have little real power.”
“That’s what I thought, too.” Lyrik sighed, rubbing his eyes with his fingertips. “This could be the overlord hiding behind the NRS, or the NRS has a lot more power than we thought.”
“I’ll check into it. There has to be —” An emergency interrupt signal preempted the rest of his statement. “Hold on.” The transmission lapsed into silence for a moment, then Trey returned. “Krysta wants to talk to you and only you. She sounds frantic. Is Saebin all right?”