Fenturi Fate (Spacestalker Saga Book 1) (6 page)

Impatient to talk with her, Zebram went in search of his advisor and informed Cyka he’d be indisposed. Racing to his chambers, he donned a peasant cloak and hat to hide his distinct features.
Then he passed through the secret passage connecting his chamber to a web of concealed underground tunnels and traveled with haste to the end.

He emerged into a heavily wooded area and took the path to her cottage.
He passed no one on the way, which didn’t shock him. Myla felt it safest if she lived on the outskirts of their village.
For protection, he wondered, or to be close to her natural world?

He approached her door, not surprised when she opened it before he could knock.
The Fenturi woman had an uncanny sense and always had.

As soon as he entered, she clasped him to her in a warm hug and held him tight.
“I’m so sorry, Zebram.” Her gnarled hands were strong as they cradled his head.
“I know your father did not go easily.”

Zebram withdrew and blinked to hide the tears gathering still.

“Enough of that,” she chided. “If you’ve a need to cry, do so. Hiding who you are and how you feel is unnatural. That nonsense was your father’s doing.
Strong emotion, real feeling, is a blessing, and you should embrace it.”

He embraced her lecture and let the tears fall freely.
She nodded her approval and fetched him a cup of tea.

“Did you call me here to offer solace?” he asked.
He watched the elderly woman bustle about the cottage at the speed of a woman a third her age.
She was tall, almost as tall as him.
And yet she did not hunch over as many of the elderly did.

Myla still stood strong, proudly so.
Her once black hair was now peppered with white, and the fine skin of her face wrinkled easily, hinting at the lines of laughter around her eyes and mouth.

Her violet-blue eyes glowed with emotion as she stared at him, and he sat at her table and drank her tea, feeling at peace for the first time since his father had taken ill so many months ago.

“All will be well…if you and your brother can work together,” she said calmly as she sat next to him.

He blinked in surprise.
Myla had often listened to him talk of Garen and even offered her opinion now and then, but she had never made reference to their familial tie.
Like Garen, for some reason she had refused to name them brothers aloud.

“Yes, well, I guess that’s why you’ve called me here.”

She nodded.
“Zedrax was right.
The Horde is coming again.
I’ve heard the reports and seen things.
And they’re even stronger now than they were a thousand years ago.”

“From what I’ve read, the ancients used an alien weapon to defeat them.” He frowned in thought as he sipped his tea. “
I
t all happened before we had even landed and colonized Bylar, back when the planet was known as Fentra.”

“That’s right.
Unfortunately, in the Bylaran pursuit to rule this planet, your forefathers may have unwittingly destroyed the very thing that can save our System.”

Zebram stilled.
“Explain this.”

“I’ll be brief, for you have much to do, but I have some texts that can further clarify things.” She left the table and returned with a large volume.
“In the year 3022, the Ragil Horde floated throughout our System.
Of course, back in 3022 we only had three Motherworld planets and that mess we now call the Nearworlds.”

“Nexios, Ocaia and Fentra were the Motherworlds. And in 3022, there were only ten Nearworld planets.” Zebram knew his history.

“Just so.
The Nexians were just as odd and scientific-minded then as they are now.
They devised a weapon called the Thrax.
Only they weren’t exactly sure how they’d created it since it just seemed to pop into their heads one day.

“Over time, as the Horde demolished races and Outworlds, our enemy suddenly turned their attention on us and began chipping away at the Nearworlds. So the Motherworlds gathered on Nexios to determine what they could do to stop the madness.
It was the very first time the worlds had joined to fight against a common enemy.”

 
Myla grinned, exposing bright white teeth, now curiously sharp at the ends.
“
And now, to modify the history the Bylarans have taught you over the years. The Nexians did not figure out a way to work the Thrax, nor did they power it.
One of the
Fentra
representatives,” she emphasized, “had brought his wife and child to the delegation.
His daughter Mari, named so for our Mari moon that glows bright during the growing seasons, found a way to make the weapon work.”

Zebram sat stunned.
“How did she do it?”

“No one knows,” Myla answered with a shrug.
“But the Ragil Horde was destroyed, allowing your people to travel from the Outworlds and settle on Fentra.
T
hen two more Outworld planets, not destroyed by the Ragil, grew to be a part of the System.”

“What of the Thrax?” Zebram asked urgently.
“Why was this truth never told?”

Myla sighed. “Because everyone felt safer believing the Horde demolished.
The brothers Bylar and Lynar arrived to recolonize their races on their respective planets, and the Legion was born.
Then too, the civil unrest on Bylar quickly replaced the history of the Ragil defeat. Fentra was no more; the Horde was no more.

“One Fenturi, an Ocaian, and a Nexian with the surprising foresight that we might one day need to use it again hid the Thrax.
But in the midst of reshaping worlds and the destinies of ‘great men,’ they forgot that a Fenturi was needed to power the weapon.”

Zebram absorbed that information, growing more and more horrified.
“My father and those before him have been systematically wiping out all traces of Fenturi from this planet for ages.”

“Yes.
Your job now becomes even harder.
Not only must you find the Thrax, but you must also find a Fenturi of Mari blood.
It won’t be easy, but I do believe it is possible.”

Hope lit him from within.
“It is?”

Myla had a way of knowing things.
The Fenturi woman had advised and helped him in numerous ways over the years, and he knew the time would come when he would have to make her presence known to all.
He’d hidden her Fenturi nature all these years to save her from his father’s irrational prejudice and fear—which was now no longer an issue.

“It is possible,” Myla repeated, her expression somber.
“But it is not your journey to take.
You must stay here and work to hold the kingdom together.
Now more than ever the Legion must be strong to defeat the Horde.
Garen is needed. This is his journey to make.”

Zebram gaped at her.
“My brother?
Myla, the only thing he hates worse than my father are the Fenturi.”
And thus, himself.
“You want him to track down this savior and not kill him?”

“It’s past time Garen faced the truth inside him,” she said firmly.
“Zedrax’s poison is no more.
We can only hope the damage he’s done throughout the years is not irreversible.”

And that my brother will finally learn to love and accept himself, in turn saving us all. By the stars, maybe we truly are doomed.

Dare moved quietly through Mra’s quarters and wondered again how the Stalker cat had ended up with the largest room on the ship.
It had been several days since the incident on Vembi, and she’d made good use of Mra’s healing talents to extract the Shorhu poison from her leg.
A good thing she had, before her leg had possibly atrophied and severed from her body.

Mra had lectured her, slashed as her with displeasure, then used her coarse tongue to inject a healing saliva into Dare’s injury.
Despite the pain of the rough contact, w
ithin moments of receiving it, Dare had felt better. In mere days she moved without pain.
Not one trace on her leg remained to show any indication a wound had ever been present.

Now, she gave in to her instincts to play—under the guise of reaffirming that her injury had healed, of course.
She leapt into the tall tree near Mra’s sleeping form and settled in its thick branches, patiently watching Mra’s even breathing.

The cat’s tail didn’t move, nor did her ears twitch, and Dare knew Mra slept true. Carefully, she climbed her way up the tree with nails that had instinctively grown into claws. From this higher spot, she looked down through the thick vegetation hoping for movement on the ground.

No luck.
 

Mra must have eaten the remaining Lugrats, because Dare couldn’t see or smell their presence in the jungle-like room.

She settled her attention instead on Mra.
Like the cat had taught her, she moved quietly, easing her muscles into a slow stalk.
Then, as she neared the large cat, she jumped suddenly, pouncing on Mra just as the cat’s blue eyes opened in shock.

Mra growled as Dare knocked her from her perch, and they fell to the floor together, gracefully landing on their feet.

The cat hissed with displeasure made deeper by Dare’s laughter.
You’re obviously better, young one.

They stood close, and Mra’s fur rippled under Dare’s loose hair. Bemusedly, Dare thought they seemed almost like one entity before she moved aside to soothe her ruffled companion. She stroked the soft brown fur randomly streaked with red and gold and soothed the cat’s bad temper.
Sorry. I couldn’t resist some fun. You’re usually more of a challenge.

Just wait. When you’re not looking...
The cat flipped her tail and walked to the trunk, scratching her scent into it.

Dare ran a hand through her own hair, vain about the thick brown mass that ended in fluttering waves of auburn and gold.
She’d often wondered if mere coincidence or something more lay in her and Mra’s coloring.
She liked to think fate had sent her to planet Kre long ago but knew the more likely reason for their similarities was in Mra’s ability to change her coloring.

Dare watched the large cat gracefully take to the tree from which she’d been ousted and sighed, her diversion gone. Once again, her thoughts turned to a man she had no right thinking about.

Since their time on Vembi, Dare hadn’t been able to get that troublesome Legionnaire out of her mind.
She’d been careful to shield her thoughts from Jace and prayed he hadn’t perceived anything unusual in her uncontrollable dreams.

Her face heated as memories of those dreams intruded, and she crossed to the small waterfall they’d created for Mra, trying to lose herself in the native Kre waters pooling in the rocky well.

The Legionnaire had seemed familiar yet strange all at once.
His eyes had reminded her of the forests on Kre, and had further back into her past, of the lakes on Fentra—she refused to think of her planet as
Bylar
.

As thoughts of her homeworld broke through the mental barriers she’d long ago put in place, Dare shook her head.
A headache developed, as usual, so she breathed deeply and concentrated on the Kre waters to dissipate the pain.

Memories of Fentra occasionally struck her at odd times during her growing years, but never with the frequency with which they had in the past few days.
But then… S
he’d never been so close to a Legionnaire before. He must have stirred memories of Fentra. Relieved she wasn’t going mad, she focused on the cooling waters until the pain in her head faded.

She left Mra and found Jace arguing with Roc and Shea in the galley.

Dare grabbed one of Roc’s infamous Rovi biscuits and gnawed on the tasty yet tough treat while she tried to determine the nature of the argument.

“I’m not saying you’re wrong, Shea, but I don’t think you’re thinking clearly,” Jace said patiently to the redheaded spitfire.

“You got that right.”
Roc glared at her, especially when she punched him in the arm.

She flexed her hand and grimaced. “Ow. You really are a rock. Look, it’s a guaranteed bek-finder! Trust me, those idiots in the Lynaran palace have it coming to them.”

“Can someone please tell me what you’re talking about?” Dare tossed her half-eaten biscuit to the table. But when Roc gave her a suspicious look, she picked it up again, forced a smile, and took another dry bite of it, trying not to choke as she swallowed.

Jace coughed, no doubt to hide a laugh. “Sorry, something in my throat. So Dare, I’m sure you’ll appreciate this.
Shea wants to go back to Lynar—to the
royal palace
. You know, the one with her picture tagged to every tree and law hut in the village.
She’s got this grand idea of making off with the treasury the palace recently confiscated from Teln.”

“Isn’t Teln the thieving colony where you grew up?” At Shea’s nod, Dare frowned.
“So you want to revisit a place that banished you to a pirate ship and certain death?
For what?
Revenge?”

 
“Don’t you see how precious that would be?” Shea grinned, her yellow eyes glowing like Lynaran gold in the bright light of the galley.
“They have wanted notices all over the place for me.
Yet I’d
still
manage to steal, not only from the palace, but from that dirty little colony where I grew up. I’d be a
legend
.”

“Only if they know you did the thieving, which will surely get you caught.” Roc added, “Legend or not, being dead won’t get you the respect you seem to crave.”

Shea huffed at him but didn’t say any more. They sat together by the counter, like two lings on a weir.
Dare eyed the two with humor.
Shea’s bright eyes burned with an excitement that was almost palpable, while Roc’s steady gaze watched her with something more than annoyance.

Though Roc’s eyes showed nothing more than a white slate, Dare had gotten used to reading his subtle facial expressions.
He cared for the little illusionist more than Shea knew.
Or did she?

Dare wouldn’t put it past Shea to take advantage of the Rovi’s attachment, especially because the sneaky woman obviously felt for the Rovi right back. Whatever the case, the two were inseparable.
Dare had the odd sense one would literally die without the other.

She glanced at Jace, not surprised to see his subtle agreement. Sometimes she and the Psi didn’t have to speak, they were so in tune with each other.

Willing to play along with the idea of annoying the Lynaran royal government, Dare said, “Okay, Shea.
What makes you so sure that the beks are there to be stolen?”

Roc gaped at her. Shea rubbed her hands gleefully, then hit a button near the holovid on the wall and projected a small image of the palace, as well as a larger picture of Teln’s proximity on the countertop.

“I keep my ears open when we travel.
And when on Vembi, I ran into an old friend of mine.
No Roc,” she said before he could start a familiar lecture.
“He didn’t recognize me.
But I did overhear what the Sonjobs on Lynaran did to Teln.”

“Sonjob?” Dare wasn’t that familiar with Lynar.
In her opinion, that miserable world mirrored Bylar far too closely.

“Sonjob is the royal house on Lynar, and they recently revoked a lucrative trade route with the Teln province,” Jace explained.
“I don’t know, Shea.
It does sound like the perfect opportunity to make some good currency.
But it sounds almost
too
easy. If we get caught there, you’re definitely getting phased, not to mention the rest of us will face death for aiding and abetting the most wanted thief on the planet.”

Shea frowned.
“You’re wrong, Jace.
Honestly, it’s a wonder you all haven’t gotten picked up and fleeced by the Legion in your years without me.
I was sentenced and banished, remember?
They can’t touch me now.”

“Yes, they can,” Roc said forcefully, causing Shea to stare up at him in surprise.
“The Lynarans have no limit on sentencing.
Y
ou mess with the royal house, you’re asking for instant death.
Banishment at least gave you a chance.” He glared with disapproval, including Dare in his displeasure.

Royal house
had her dander up. Dare hated anything royal, her thoughts always returning to Bylar and the murderers who’d killed her family. “Now hold on, Roc.
Shea just might be onto
something here.
With her knowledge of Lynar and her ability to cloak our presence, we might be able to pull this off.” Dare thought about it, excitement building. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little payback, is there, Shea?”

Jace narrowed his eyes, and she felt his question…and his disapproval. But reminders royals, of the Legionnaire and all he stood for, clouded her mind to anything but retribution. She might not be able to storm the Bylaran royal house, but they just might be able to get Shea the payback she needed.

It would have to do. For now.

***

Later that evening, after tentative plans had been made to storm the Lynaran palace, Jace joined Dare in the library.
He glanced down at Mra and shook his head.
Even the Fentra-Kre cat agreed with him, her disdainful eyes narrowed on her mistress.

“You’re letting your personal demons interfere with good sense.” Jace sank into the chair opposite Dare and stared at her until she looked up from her journal.

“Not you too.”
She
groaned.

“Yes, me too,” he said with irritation.
“
Darel
, you’re usually more level-headed than this.
Can’t
you see the foolishness of using Shea’s plan to fulfill your own desire for revenge?”

He used her full name for effect and wasn’t disappointed when she glared at him.
Unfortunately,
mention of her past caused her mental walls to strengthen, and Jace feared she wouldn’t listen now if the universe depended on it.

“By the Dark World, Dare, you—”

“I know what we’re doing doesn’t make much sense to you or Roc.
But don’t you ever feel the need to get even?
To try to make sense and gain some measure of rightness against the injustices in your life?” Her eyes grew neon violet, ablaze with righteous anger.

Jace felt his own temper stir.
“You think I don’t know anger and injustice?
I’ve lived through my own hell with my own personal demons.
O
ne day I’ll free my world of the evil rotting it from within.” He felt the familiar hatred fill him and worked to tamp it back down, back to the pit of his soul where it dwelled, waiting to be set free.
“But I’ll do it when I’ve gained enough power to defeat my enemies, not to toy with them. I won’t run off half-cocked like a Fenturi refugee trying to get even with a half-brained plot to relieve a royal treasury.”

  Dare apparently refused to take the bait. She
laughed
at him. He hated that, and she knew it. “You do it your way, and I’ll do it mine.” Then her face softened, and she gave him a mental caress, sister to brother.
“If you don’t want to go, Jace, we can drop you off and pick you up after we’re done.”

He scowled.
“You’re out of your mind if you think I’ll let you go by yourselves.
Roc will need help bailing Shea out of trouble.
And the Goddess knows you’ll need me.”

Crossing to her, he leaned down and fastened his mouth over hers, startling her with the intensity of his kiss.
She might have thought of them as platonic siblings, but he’d always been aware of her as a woman.
He broke the kiss and straightened, amused at her flush of shock.