Stardancer (Tellaran Series) (32 page)

A bolt cut through the air barely missing his hand. He froze.

“Try that again and I’ll take your head off,” the Tellaran officer snapped. “On your feet!”

“He’s hurt,” Kinara protested.

“He’ll be a lot more than hurt if he doesn’t stand,” the Tellaran officer retorted.

Kinara swallowed. Leading the Az-kye ships made her an enemy of the Realm. She could look forward to a life in prison but as a Tellaran she’d probably live long enough to get there.  

These soldiers wouldn’t take the same chance on an Az-kye warrior. Kinara eased out from under Aidar then helped him into a sitting position.

The officer had his blaster trained on them. “I told you to stand!”

She got to her feet. “I told you, he’s
hurt
.”

“You found more of them, Denks?”

The Tellaran High Commander stepped around the corner.

“Yes, sir,” Denks replied, the satisfaction in his voice unmistakable. “Two warriors and a woman.”

“A woman?” the High Commander asked, surprised.

“Yeah,
and
she speaks Tellaran.”

“Really?” His rust-colored Admiral’s uniform was immaculate despite the ruin of his surroundings. This man would always be Fleet to his very bones.

In his craggy face were the deep shadows of bitterness, his hair pure white. “I’ve never seen one of you Az-kye bitches up close. Come here and let me look at you.”

Her heart hammering, Kinara stepped forward into the light and pulled her hood down.

“Hello, Papa.”

“Kinara?” her father whispered hoarsely.

The lines on his face had deepened. He looked to have aged ten years since she’d last seen him. 

“Yes, Papa. It’s me.”

“
Kinna?
” He pushed his way forward and his embrace knocked the breath out of her lungs. 

He drew back again to blink down at her. “What are you doing here? We found the wreckage from the
Rapier.
I thought —”

“I’m all right, Papa. Kyndan’s here too.”

Her father frowned. “He’s—? No, Kinna, he
can’t
be here. He’s . . .”

“Kyndan’s alive, Papa. He’s all right. He went aft with the others to get to the
Sun Dragon
.”

“Alive? He’s— But how can you be . . .?” Her father shook his head. “Herlon’s right. I
have
lost my mind.”

“No. I’m here and Kyndan’s here. We’re both all right but we don’t have much time.”

His blue eyes widened. “I have to get you out of here, Kinna!  Gods, there are Az-kye all around us!”

His words hung in the air for a moment. His gaze went swiftly over her, taking in her clothes. 

“What’s happened?” he croaked. “What’s happened to you?”

She put her hands on his shoulders. “I’m married.”

He blanched. “No.”

“It’s all right,” she said quickly. 

“No! Is it one of them?” His eyes narrowed at Aidar and Nyat. “Which one?”

Kinara recoiled. This man was almost unrecognizable as the father she remembered.

“
Which one?
”

Kinna Maere would have answered her father meekly but the
Ti’antah
of the Az’anti would never be meek. 

“His name is Aidar of the Az’anti,” she said, her eyes going to Aidar. He sat propped against the wall, his dark eyes hard with defiance.

“Festering Az-kye,” Ryndar snarled, raising his blaster.

Kinara’s eyes went wide. “No, Papa,
don’t!
” 

Kinara made a grab for the blaster. The bolt went wild, cutting an ugly mark into the wall beside Aidar’s head.

Snarling, Aidar pushed himself to his feet. 

“Denks!” Ryndar shouted. 

Kinara twisted to stand in front of Aidar, her arms thrown wide protectively as the Tellarans leveled their blasters. “No!”

Ryndar held up his hand. Denks and the other Tellarans stopped but they didn’t lower their weapons. 

She could feel the quivering tension in Aidar body but she knew he wouldn’t risk going for his sword when she was caught between them.

Her father’s voice was soft, coaxing. “I know how much you must have suffered, Kinna. Just step aside, sweetheart. Let me do this and then I’ll take you home.”

The
Ty’pran
shifted under her feet and the lights flickered. 

Her father glanced up at the ceiling, his face grim. “Kinna, there’s no time to argue. We have to get off this ship.” Her father lifted his blaster again. “Step aside.”

“I won’t let you hurt him.”

Ryndar shook his head. “You were always a softhearted girl. Think of what he’s done to you. He doesn’t deserve mercy. None of them do.”

Her heart was hammering. There was something unbalanced in his eyes, a bloodlust for the Az-kye, for
any
Az-kye. This was a hatred her father had nursed too long to be able to listen to reason now.

Her gaze darted to the three soldiers behind her father.
All of them had blasters in hand leveled right at Aidar; their faces were hard and set. 

Aidar was an Az-kye warrior. He would never hand over his sword and let them take him prisoner. He would never let them take his mate from him while he still had breath in his body.

They were running out of time. Once those Az-kye ships came in the crippled
Ty’pran
would be at the center of the battle. They
had
to get off this ship.

But her father would never leave her with Aidar.

And Aidar would die before he let them take her from him.

She could feel Aidar warm behind her, his labored breath in her ear.

I have to get them away from him quickly, while he still has the chance to get to a shuttle.

“Promise me he won’t be hurt, Papa,” Kinara said. “And we can leave right now.”

“What is this you say?” Aidar croaked.

Her father frowned, his grip tight on his blaster.

She held her father’s gaze. “Promise me you’ll let him go.”

“Why? Do you—Ryndar’s face revealed his disgust—“care for him?”

The early morning light touching his scars as he’d loved her, how he taught her and laughed with her, his precious smiles, the way he touched her hair . . .

“He released my crew. Tedah and Kyndan, too,” she said roughly. “He deserves his life. Promise me, Papa. I won’t go with you until you do.”

For one panicked moment she thought he would try to shoot around her. 

Then her father lowered his blaster. “All right, Kinna. You have my promise.” He offered his hand to her. “Let’s go.”

“No!” Aidar cried.

He tried to catch hold her when she stepped away and couldn’t. 

Aidar’s face was tight with pain, his arm pressed against the wound at his side and his dark eyes were wild. In a heartbeat she saw he was going fight for her, even now, even injured, even faced with the absolute certainty of defeat and she had to stop him, no matter what it cost her. 

She swallowed, unsure she could even do this.

There’s no other choice. And I have to make him believe it, even if it feels as if I’m ripping my own heart out.

She knew Aidar, had lived with him, held him in her arms and loved him. 

And now she had to hurt him badly, so badly he would let her go without a fight.

“No, Aidar,” she said in Az-kye. “I’m Tellaran. I’m going home now.”

His stared at her as if he couldn’t even comprehend what she was saying. “You do not mean this. You
cannot
.” 

“This is what I want,” she forced out. “You know this is what I’ve always really wanted, to go home.” 

He shook his head. “No, you . . .” He wet his lips. “Please, I will — I will do—anything—”

“Damn it, I don’t want anything from
you
. I
want
to go home!” Her throat felt like it was closing. “I don’t belong with you.  I never did.”

“
Cy’atta
, you are my bound mate.” His eyes were a wide, dark sea of hurt. “I am yours. You are mine,” he pleaded. “For always.”

I’d be yours forever even if we weren’t bound. I was from the first moment you touched me.

And I’m not going to let you die.

“Bound!” She forced a sneer. “Tellarans don’t believe in that nonsense. I don’t think it even
works
on us. Gods, you Az-kye really are stupid!”

He flinched. 

“I’m not saying I didn’t enjoy fucking you, Aidar. We both know I did, and we both know why I agreed to be your mate in the first place. It did the trick, didn’t it?” 

He shook his head again, his face deathly pale. “You made vows to me.”

I can’t! I can’t do this anymore!  

She folded her arms to keep herself from reaching for him. “I got the crew back home. I got everybody home. That’s what matters to me, not some barbaric Az-kye ritual.”

I don’t mean it! I don’t mean any of this. 

He trembled. “You promised—”

“I don’t need to keep any promise I made to you,” she broke in harshly.
I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!
“You broke every one you ever made to me! My people are safe now. My brother is safe. My father is here. Why I should stay with
you
if I can go home?”

His dark eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “I love you.”

Her breath was coming in short quick gasps.

Stop, oh, please stop looking at me like that . . .

The ship shuddered around them. 

No more time. 

She forced herself to step back. “This is pointless,” she got out. “I’m finished here and I’m finished with you. I’m leaving now.”

She couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, not if she was really going to make herself walk away from him. 

“Then let them kill me,” he whispered hoarsely.

Her knees nearly gave out and her vision blurred. Quickly she blinked the tears away before he could see them. She clenched her fist, her nails biting into the palm of her hand.

Gods, give me the strength to go. He still has a chance to get away once I’m gone.

“No,” she forced out. “I’m grateful for your help. Consider this a Tellaran way of saying, thank you.” 

She nodded to her father and took his arm. She was shaking so badly she needed his support to keep herself upright. She glanced back to be sure Denks followed and her father kept his word. The security officers moved past Aidar, keeping their weapons ready but they didn’t fire. 

Aidar stood slumped against the wall staring blankly ahead; tear tracks showed in the grime on his face, his expression utterly shattered.

Then he shut his eyes and bent his head in defeat.

It was the last she saw of him.

“You can’t bury yourself in here forever!”

Kinara leaned her forehead against the windowpane, not bothering to answer Kyndan. Her bedroom window in the High Commander’s mansion overlooked the central square. It had always been her favorite spot to sit and dream as she watched the activity in the commons below.  

The stately white buildings, bright in the afternoon sun, looked stale and lifeless to her now. The lines of Rusco’s base were neat, sharp, and colorless, crying out for a touch of the Az-kye passion for life.   

She missed everything. Little Bebti, pastries and tea in the mornings with her maids, the way the spray of the falls made rainbows in the distance, the smell of the flowers from her balcony, the sound of the guards in the courtyard, the feel of her jaha fan, his smile . . .

Private smiles, just for her, because warriors don’t grin like boys.

“Kinna,” Kyndan said, seating himself on her bed, “this has to stop.”

“Not now, okay?” she said dully.

“It’s not your fault. You did everything you could for him, for all of us. Stars, even the idiots on Tellar granted you a pardon!”

The government had quietly pardoned her for leading the Az-kye ships, largely due, no doubt, to her father’s influence. Many still considered her a traitor. She had even received death threats and, at her father’s insistence, she now went everywhere armed.

Ryndar’s joy at having his children safe and with him again had done much to restore him. Still, he stubbornly refused to acknowledge a marriage between his daughter and an Az-kye. 

Bewildered by her determination he do so, and her despair, he had finally withdrawn, hoping the familiarity of her surroundings would return her to the girl he raised.

But the role of the High Commander’s carefree daughter no longer suited her. It was not only her feelings for one Az-kye that had irrevocably changed her but also her understanding of the Az-kye people. Her attempts to make herself useful to the Realm in finding a peaceful resolution to the present conflict with the Az-kye were at first gently, then forcefully, rebuffed. 

The government on Tellar had no interest in opinions and ideas from someone they considered an interfering girl. Her frustration and powerlessness to end the hostilities made the haunting of those dark eyes all the more unbearable.  

“Kinna, come on. I want to help.”

“Then tell me he’s alive,” she said softly. “Tell me he made it home.”

He sighed. They’d had this talk so many times. “I don’t know what happened after we left. No one does. The other Az-kye ships came in too fast. We were lucky to get away at all.”

Kinara closed her eyes. He’d been so badly wounded. In the last four months she’d scoured every piece of data she could get her hands on, reviewed every recording, trying to see if one last shuttle had gotten away from the
Ty’pran
before the crossfire destroyed it. She’d questioned everyone who could have possibly seen it. She pestered her father until, deeply worried for her sanity, he released high-clearance-needed documents for her to study.

She couldn’t find anything.

She thought now of the Az-kye opera she’d stumbled upon—
Shade of Quen’dalla
. That warrior had followed his mate’s spirit forever after losing her for his pride. 

What would she have to do to follow Aidar’s if she had lost him for love?

In leaving him on the
Ty’pran
, she’d left him to die. She’d cut his heart to pieces for nothing and she wished desperately she’d stayed and died with him, except . . .

She touched the swelling at her belly that had just begun to show, imagining she could feel the tiny life inside her under her fingers.

Would the baby have eyes dark like his?

The baby girl she carried would have his name and inherit his clan. She would give their child all the love the gods hadn’t let her give its father.

Ryndar had been stunned and even Kyndan, who had finally made peace with Aidar, had been thrown. She’d kept the news to herself for a long while and her announcement weeks ago had torn the Maere house apart. Tedah wisely excused himself when the shouting started and she hadn’t seen him since.  

With hostilities as they were and so many skirmishes along the border she couldn’t risk trying to get to Az-kye now. 

But she would get them both back to Az-kye someday. 

I won’t fail you again, Aidar.

As if reading her mind, Kyndan said, “You know it isn’t good for your health to stay inside all the time. It isn’t good for the baby.”

She shot him a narrowed look. “That’s a dirty trick.”

“Yeah, I know.” He stood and offered her his hand. “Come on, let’s get you some fresh air.”

Resigned, she let him help her up. “Since when do you care about an Az-kye baby?”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s my niece you’re talking about, you know. Even Papa is worried that you aren’t eating enough.”

Kinara blinked.

He gave her a faint smile. “Why do you think the kitchen’s suddenly overflowing with food?”

Later that night over dinner she and her father talked hesitantly at first, politely as strangers. Ryndar’s voice was quiet when he told her a truce had been enacted at the border. There was even talk of opening diplomatic relations, perhaps even a treaty. 

When she excused herself from dinner she was already filled with plans and tried to reach Tedah to give him the news. With a ceasefire now at the border there had to be some way of getting through.

She and Tedah made it into Az-kye space once. They could do it again.

She left several messages. Hours later with no word back from Tedah, she found herself too restless even to sit and decided to go out for a long walk around the base. 

Her mind lingered on Aidar as it always did, her imagination giving her some respite from grief. She’d imagined somehow finding him safe on Az-kye and explaining everything to him. She’d dreamed of telling him about the baby, seeing the joy light his face, how knowing about the child began the bridge to forgiveness.

The path lights were coming on by the time she headed for home, their golden glow throwing pools of light along the walkways.

Those daydreams came with a high price. Sooner or later she came back to reality and the grief overtook her again, fresh and raw as if she lost him all over again.

At the gate she hesitated then turned away from the house, instead taking the path to their private grounds. It was a warm evening and she sat on one of the benches, leaning against the garden wall. The night was very still and she looked through the trees to the distant lights of the house, thinking of how best to tell them.

When she went in there and announced her plan to immediately return to Az-kye, she was going to be in for a hell of a fight. Her father might not be happy about the baby being half Az-kye but that didn’t mean he would want his pregnant daughter going off with Tedah—
if
she could ever get ahold of him!—into what he still considered enemy space. 

But just disappearing without a word wasn’t something she was willing to do this time. It might be a long while before she saw her father or brother again and she wanted a chance to say goodbye, even if it was just going to turn into another shouting match. 

Going inside to tell them was her first step back to Az-kye. Her forces had completely routed the Tellaran Fleet and Kinara knew she would be far more welcome on the Imperial World than she was here. Still her heart squeezed, knowing the memories the Az’anti estate would bring back.

She swallowed back tears and rested her head back against the wall. She was going to have, and raise, this baby on Az-kye.

It’s what he would have wanted.

She closed her eyes and let the bittersweet image of Aidar’s daughter playing under the sky her father had played under fill her mind. This daughter would be loved and when she took her place as
Ti’antah
she would have all the knowledge she needed to lead his clan wisely . . .

The soft rustling of leaves made Kinara’s eyes snap open. 

There was no breeze tonight. She frowned, peering into the darkness. 

A sercat? Or a bird maybe?

She heard movement again, closer now.

Her heart sped up, recalling all those ugly threats, what so many people had called her, called her still—
recreant, traitor, Az-kye whore
.

Her glance darted about at the dark shapes of the trees and bushes and—

There
, the curve of someone hiding in the shadows.   

Her mouth went dry and her mind flashed to the tiny, precious life she carried. With a rush of panic she saw the intruder was positioned squarely between her and the house. She’d never get past and make it inside. The high garden wall extended behind and on either side of the grounds nearly to the house itself. Even if she wanted to risk escaping by climbing over the wall behind her she’d have to turn her back and she wasn’t about to do that.

She was trapped here and shouting, even if they heard her this far from the house, wouldn’t bring help in time. 

She wet her lips and stood, easing the blaster at her hip from its holster.

“Who’s there?”

Whoever it was froze. The lights from the house made it impossible to see anything but a shadowy outline. 

Her heart hammered when the shadow didn’t respond.
So much for it being Kyndan or Tedah or any other friend.

With a sudden movement the huge shadow came at her. Startled she brought the weapon up and fired.

She blew a chunk of tree away and was rewarded with a yelped curse in Az-kye. 

She’d barely missed—

“Oh,
gods
,” she breathed.

He was still ducking back, his arm held protectively up. The flame from the burning tree limb next to his head reflected in the gold of his hair.

She lowered the blaster. “Aidar?”

He straightened warily and stepped into the dim light to stare at her. “You
shoot
at me? It is not enough I had to be smuggled here?  That I must creep about like a thief?” he demanded, the buzz of his words vibrating through her chest. “You seek my blood before I can even speak?”

“Aidar?” she said again and dropped the blaster. She took shaky steps toward him, her hand outstretched.

He felt real under her fingers. Real and warm and
here
.

He was dressed in warrior black, the Az’anti beading at his shoulder, his scabbard’s strap across his chest. Over his clothes she hesitantly touched the place along his ribs where he’d been wounded all those months ago. He didn’t flinch away. 

With a cry she threw herself against him, to catch him in her arms before he could disappear. 

His breath sucked in sharply and he started a little as if she’d caught him completely off-guard. He hesitated then loosely returned her embrace, his hands resting lightly on her. 

Kinara found herself aware of a dozen things at once—the instant heat of desire through her body, the warmth of him, the strength of his body. She closed her eyes, feeling his chest rise and fall, breathing in the scent of him, feeling the solid bulk of muscle under her cheek, his broad back under her palms, his very presence a burst of color in a gray universe. 

“You’re okay,” she whispered, hugging him. “I can’t believe — When the
Ty’pran
was destroyed—” Her chest felt hollow at the memory and she tightened her hold. “But now you’re here!” 

He started when she touched his face, frowning down at her as she felt the line of his jaw.

“I thought you were dead—”

His dark eyes flashed with bitterness. “I would have had myself so at your leaving. My warriors carried me from the ship when I bid them let me die there.”

“I didn’t
want
to leave you!” She touched his cheek, tracing the scar with her fingers. “And what I said—I didn’t mean any of it.  I’m sorry.” 

He jerked his head away from her touch. “Do not lie to me.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I know I hurt you. What I said was awful but it wasn’t true, none of it.  I’m so sorry.”