razorsedge (16 page)

* * *

Rezac glanced sideways at the female as every now and then she walked backward to check the effectiveness of her path-sweeping. Despite himself, he was beginning to be impressed by her tenacity. Intelligent, flamboyant in personality and image, it was natural to assume she was the same as her husband. Shanka didn't know what hard work was, but Zashou was a reliable and diligent member of the little research team headed by Dr. Vartra.
She played hard, too. Her main friends were the other members of their group, though to his knowledge she'd had a couple of lovers among the other students over the year they had all known each other.
Her mate did just enough work to manage to stay with the team and make it appear that he was doing more. He was frequently seen around campus with one if not two of his current half dozen females. He had money, and they enjoyed helping him spend it.
Rezac snorted in disgust. He despised people like Shanka, the socially advantaged who could buy their way out of any problem. He'd had dealings with too many of them in the past.
He felt a hand on his arm and realized Zashou was talking to him.
"Rezac, what is it? Gods, you're freezing!" she said.
"I'm fine," he said.
"No, you're not. Your fur is standing on end. You were exhausted when we arrived, never mind now. Your body can't cope with this cold. We've got to get you into the warm as soon as possible."
"I'm fine, I tell you," he snapped.
She grabbed hold of him, forcing him to stop. "Rezac, the snow has set in for the night. Even if we did nothing, our tracks would be gone by morning. Leave it to the younglings: They're dressed for it. One casualty today is enough! We don't need you becoming hypothermic."
He hesitated. There was sense in what she said and now that he'd stopped moving, he could feel himself trembling with fatigue and the cold.
"Come on, let's go ahead," she said, pulling him onward.
He nodded finally, throwing his branch into the nearest bush.
She did likewise and they increased their speed, overtaking the two youths.
"I'll leave it to you," said Rezac. "We're going on ahead."
They nodded, giving a brief wave as Zashou and Rezac passed them.
Gamely Zashou plodded through the snow in Rezac's wake. His longer legs took him farther ahead with each stride. Just as she thought she'd lost him, his hand grasped her.
"You're not in much better shape yourself," he said, "despite your jacket." He swung her up into his arms, refusing to put her down despite her protests. After a few minutes she stopped complaining, realizing they were actually making better speed.
"About time you shut up," he said. "Nearly deafened me with your moaning, yet you were the one that said we had to get back quickly! You need to learn your own limits, then you won't pick a job you aren't able to cope with."
"I didn't realize the snow was so deep," she said. "And you didn't realize it was so cold!"
He grunted and continued walking in silence, aware of the warmth of her body in his arms and her scent in his nostrils.
He woke suddenly, hypersensitive to her presence, only aware of their Link and his need for her. It had begun well enough, he was sure of it. So vivid had the dream been that he could still feel the pressure of her body against his chest.

* * *

In her bed, she moved restlessly and once again the pull of their Link surged through him— and her, calling them together. Throwing the blankets aside, he got to his feet. The fire had burned down to a faint glow. He shivered. He both dreaded and lived for their Link days because it was the only time he felt complete— when their minds spoke directly to each other without the ability to lie or hurt. Then they belonged together, bodies and souls as one, the way it was meant to be, deny it as they might the next day.
Lifting the covers, he slipped into the bed beside her, reaching out to draw her closer. At his touch, she woke, her face creasing in a frown, ears flicking.
It's time,
he sent, continuing to pull her closer despite her resistance.
You might be less demanding about it.
The words were sharper than the intent, he knew. Already she was relaxing against him, letting him wrap his arms around her.
Yesterday's over, Zashou. Let's leave it behind. This is our day now,
he sent persuasively, his teeth gently catching hold of one of her ears.
Like a tide flowing up a river, their minds began to merge, becoming one. She sighed and reached a hand up to his neck. Her touch was like fire to his heightened senses, at once burning and relieving his need to hold her. He could feel the same need building in her as she pressed herself closer to him. The tension began to leave her body and within his arms, at last she began to relax.

* * *

Lijou greeted him in his private quarters, getting up as the door opened to admit him. "Thank you for accepting my invitation, Kaid," he said, reaching out to touch fingertips with him as he entered. "Well come to Stronghold. I intend to make sure your stay this time will be far more pleasant than your last one. Have you settled in? You're only a few doors away from me and from Kha'Qwa if you should need anything."
"I thought the suite was rather grand," Kaid murmured, returning the gesture and accepting the seat the priest indicated.
"One of our guest quarters," said Lijou, sitting down. "I sent for coffee and c'shar because I wasn't sure which you'd prefer."
"C'shar, please." It felt strange being here. Memories of years gone by came back to him as he looked round Lijou's personal office cum lounge. The last time he'd been in this room was when they'd come for Vanna. Before that, it had been Jyarti's, Lijou's predecessor as Head Priest.
"You must have spent a lot of time in this study," said Lijou as he poured him his drink.
"I divided it between here and the library," said Kaid. "I was helping Jyarti with refining the religious aspects of the Brothers' training."
"And it's those skills we have need of again. I'm afraid you'll be something of a test case for us in our training of telepathic priests."
Kaid raised a questioning eye ridge as he picked up his mug.
"We've never had to initiate such a wide-scale training of telepaths before. You'll be our first, which is another reason why, with the help of Kha'Qwa, we'll be working with you. We need your feedback."
Kaid shrugged. "What help I can give is yours." He watched Lijou settle back into his chair, wondering what was coming next.
"We do have one expert here, one who'll surprise you. Tutor Sorli, from the Telepath Guild. He's requested some time here in retreat to meditate at the temple, but he's also agreed to help us."
"Sorli? What tears him away from Esken?" This was a surprise.
"You know as much as I do. He keeps his thoughts firmly to himself and will say nothing more on the subject. Naturally, I haven't pressed him about the matter."
"Naturally." Kaid hesitated, wondering if this was some plot of Esken's, then discarded the thought.
"Sorli may be an apologist for his Guild Master, but he's no one's puppet, Kaid. I have to admit, I considered the possibility, too."
"Sorli's as straight as a new blade. If he's here, then it's at his own request. Still, I wonder what goes on at their guild."
"We'll find out in time," said Lijou placidly. "We have one or two folk among the warriors guarding the Terran contingent. However, it wasn't about this I wanted to talk to you today, it was about Vartra. It's been nearly two weeks since you returned from the Margins, time for what you saw and heard there to sink in fully. We need to discuss it frankly now— need to decide what should become known only within the Order, and what can be made public."
"We need to ensure that no one else returns to the past," said Kaid grimly. "We know it can be altered. Now there is a balance; matters have come out best for us in this time. Should anyone else attempt to return and succeed, then the balance could be disrupted, maybe even allow the chance that the Valtegans still on Shola were not all killed in the Cataclysm. General Kezule had planned to weather the disaster out in the mountains with a few of his soldiers and some eggs in the hope of returning to take control of our world again once it was over. Had we not gone back, he might have succeeded."
He watched in satisfaction as the priest's face took on a look of profound shock, his ears lying flat against his skull in fear.
"It was that close?"
Kaid nodded. "You were right, Lijou. We had to return to the Margins for the good of Shola."
"Tell me it all."
Perhaps not all,
thought Kaid.
Would it help prevent others even thinking of trying if they knew the only reason we survived was because I came from the past? Do I keep my life private, or make it public for the good of our world?

Chapter 4

The cell door slid open with its usual clang.
You'd think in this day and age they could have made it silent,
Keeza thought, watching the two guards from her bunk bed.
"Get up. Face the rear wall," the nearer guard ordered. "Hands behind your back."
She stood, turning her back to them, and waited while he came across the narrow room. She was roughly grasped first by one hand then the other, as the metal wrist restraint was locked in place.
"What's it now?" she demanded. "You could at least leave me in peace tonight! Bother me all you want tomorrow."
"You should be so lucky," the guard snorted, grasping her by the upper arm and pulling her round to face him. "You got a visitor. Some official." He led her out of the cell.
"Don't get your hopes up," the other said, teeth prominent in his openmouthed grin as he locked the door behind him. "They don't grant pardons for the likes of you."
Used to the taunts over the last couple of days, she didn't bother answering them. This visitor, though, that intrigued her. What official would want to speak to her? What could they want from her? They'd gotten all they needed with their damned telepaths at the trial; they knew there was nothing left to tell.
Resisting slightly, she made them drag her along the corridors and through the successive check point gates till they came to the Chief Warden's office. A knock on the door, and she was thrust inside.
The figure at the window turned slowly to look at her. The first thing she noticed was the long gray robe.
"This is Keeza Lassah, Brother," said the Warden, getting to his feet. "I'll leave you alone while you talk to her."
L'Seuli nodded.
Narrowing her eyes against the last of the daylight, Keeza weighed him up. Of average height, he was stockily built, as far as she could tell with those robes. The sandy-colored pelt coupled with the rounded ears set low on his head suggested a desert dweller. The light behind him illuminated him from an angle, accentuating the planes of his face. A strong face, the jawline broad and firm, eyes set wide above his cheekbones, nose narrow, ending with pale flesh. He returned her gaze impassively. She gave an involuntary shudder. Like all of his kind, someone to reckon with.
Keeza waited till the warden had left before jerking her head backward to indicate her cuffs. "You going to let me go?"
He ignored her question. "I have a proposition for you, Keeza Lassah," he said. "A job that requires some of your skills."
She snorted derisively. "I thought you folk did your own killing! In case you haven't heard, I won't be around after dawn tomorrow."
"If you accept this task, your death sentence will be commuted— once certain safeguards have been taken."
Her eye ridges met in anger. "I won't have my mind messed with by those damned telepaths!"
He began to turn away. "As you wish. I'd have thought life and freedom were an acceptable payment for so simple an Üxwassignment."
She growled, tail flicking jerkily, ears flattening. Whatever it was, it was obviously dangerous, but it offered a chance of survival. "Tell me."

* * *

"You want me to turn this into a Consortia?" There was frank disbelief in the female's voice as she surveyed L'Seuli's companion. "When I agreed to help you, I had no idea you'd provide me with such raw material!"
"Think of it as a challenge," said L'Seuli soothingly.
Khaimoe got to her feet and paced round Keeza, her silken robe rustling as she did. "She's got nothing to start with! No posture, no shape— and what do you call this?" With a lightning fast movement, she reached out to pluck a strand of Keeza's tabby brown hair, holding it out for him to inspect.
"Hey!" Keeza exclaimed, batting Khaimoe's hand away and pulling back from her. "I didn't ask to come here, just remember that!"
"She's been in a correction center, what do you expect?"
"A correction center?" Khaimoe's eyes narrowed as she returned to her chair. "What's she done?"
"Nothing that need worry you, Khaimoe, you have my word on that," said L'Seuli calmly, getting to his feet. "I think you're being unkind. Some decent food, oil treatments for her hair and she'll look the part. It isn't as if she's unattractive."
"What happens if she leaves here without permission? Who's responsible for her?"
"She won't leave, will you, Keeza?" he said, looking at her. "She's tagged. If she steps beyond the perimeter of this building, she won't be capable of continuing farther."
"And what turns this tag off?"
"Bringing her back inside, Khaimoe, that's all. I'll leave you to start your training. You have four weeks before we need her."
"Four weeks! Do you realize how long it takes for us to train a youngling properly?" exclaimed Khaimoe angrily. "And that's another thing! She's too old!"
"I think you'll find her a willing pupil. After all, she's got an incentive. We aren't expecting her to be perfect, just to have enough skills to deal with the target in the majority of situations that could occur."
"She's one of you, isn't she? You've foisted a Sister on me. A Consortia assassin, that's what you want, isn't it? Well, I won't do it!"
L'Seuli looked offended. "On the contrary, we want her to help keep someone alive. I assure you she's not of the Brotherhood. Her background is just as I've told you. If you feel you cannot rise to the challenge, then perhaps I should place her with another House."
"That won't be necessary," said Khaimoe, her tone now frosty. "We'll stick to our contract. You may return four weeks from today."
Inclining his head, L'Seuli turned and left the two females alone.
Khaimoe sat tapping her claws against the padded arm of her chair, looking thoughtfully at the problem in front of her. He was probably right, she admitted to herself. What the female needed was feeding up and teaching how to make the best of herself. If she read her right, though, one like her wasn't interested in making herself attractive.
"Do you know what it is we do here?" she asked her abruptly.
"Yeah. High class qwenes," Keeza replied with a sniff of disdain.
"We do a damned sight more than cater to the sexual side of Sholan nature, my girl," she said sharply. "Your name?"
"Keeza Lassah."
"What did you do to land in a correction facility?"
"None of your damned business!"
"We operate on a basis of trust here, Keeza. I need to know what your crime was."
"I killed a pack leader," she said, moving over to a nearby chair and sitting down. Her body posture was simultaneously protective and aggressive.
"Ah." Enlightenment dawned. "I thought I recognized the name. And you lived to tell the tale. Unusual."
Keeza laughed, a hard, humorless laugh. "Yeah, you could call it alive. I'd only have lived until dawn unless I agreed to do this job."
Strangely, the knowledge of her identity was comforting. There might be some chance of success with her, after all. Any female who could infiltrate one of the major Ranz packs, and work her way close to the leader deserved a second look. Not only that, but she'd successfully killed him and lived to face trial. Oh, there had been a bloodbath during her escape from the Pack den, and only Protector involvement had ensured her survival, but nonetheless...
"Why? Why did you kill him?"
"That's my business," she replied sharply.
Khaimoe shrugged mentally. Her motive mattered not at all. She looked over to the ornate timepiece on the wall above the entrance and began to rise. "We have a break at this time of evening. Come with me and I'll introduce you to your tutors. You'll be sharing a room with one of them."
"I don't share," Keeza growled as she got up.
"You will here. We find that sharing increases our students' awareness of the need to display oneself to the best advantage."
"I don't get on well with other females," she muttered, following her out the door into the corridor.
"Perfectly all right. You're sharing with a nice male called Mabu'h."
"A male!"
Khaimoe stopped and turned round to look at her. "Of course. There are two Sholan sexes after all. Our graduates go on to cater to the business and personal needs of males and females in every level of society."
"So what do you do?" Her surprise was obvious.
Khaimoe began to walk in step with her. "To put it simply, we're social entertainers and professional companions. Our graduates are well educated in all the fields of art, entertainment, and politics, making them acceptable at every level of society. You'd be surprised to know that many actually become contracted as life-mates to partners in important positions— people who haven't the time to develop the relationships necessary to gaining a mate and having a family."
"I hadn't realized."
"Those who need to know about us know these things, Keeza," she said not unkindly. "The rest see us only as Exotics." She laughed at Keeza's embarrassed ear flick. "Oh, yes, we do cater to that side as well, but not to the detriment of being whole, rounded people. Even in so short a time, if you apply yourself well, you'll have skills that will lift you above the ordinary once your mission is completed. A new start, Keeza." If she could motivate her now, it would be so much easier for them all.
Keeza made a noncommittal noise.