Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance) (14 page)

Raising a hand in warning, Nate shook his head. “I serve her. I don’t command her.”

“She promised that if you won the sapiche game, she’d request you to do my bidding. You’ll tell her that you won, against all odds, I must say, including the deluded fellow on your own team. Where can he have gotten the idea that if your team was defeated due to subversive action on his part, he could avoid the altar?” Sarbordon’s voice was lazy and richly ironic. One of the black-clad priestesses choked off a laugh and hid her face behind her fan.

“I wonder.” Nate kept his tone equally dry. He and the ruler understood each other.

Eyeing him, Sarbordon evidently decided to let the subject drop. “Your win was decided among the respective gods we worship, and as a corollary to the unprecedented event, it’s ordained that I am to have the sacred objects I’ve coveted for these many years. Come with me and let us set the events in motion without further delay.”

The king strode down the long hall. Nate exchanged glances with Thom as he followed. Celixia fell in behind them, walking with Atletl. “This doesn’t sound too good,” Nate said to Thom. “What would she promise him we’d do? She never told me any details.”
 

“At least you know she’s alive,” Thom said.

“Why she’d promise this bastard anything is beyond me.”

Nate and his companions went through the long series of corridors, moving deeper beneath the palace, approaching the mysterious chamber where Bithia had lain imprisoned for millennia. Nate was determined to seize at least a quick word alone with Bithia before their enemy launched into his demands. As the group approached the white carved wall, Nate shoved past the two Huitlani priestesses, who recoiled at his touch. Grabbing Sarbordon’s wrist, Nate prevented the ruler from activating the first symbol.

“I must speak with T’naritza privately first.”

Eyes wide in shock, the ruler appeared ready to refuse.

Ignoring the guards, retaining his hold on the man’s fleshy arm, Nate stared him down. “The goddess and I have matters to speak of which are not for the ears of others, not Celixia, not even yourself. Our discussion won’t take long, but only when we’ve settled matters between ourselves can we give our attention to your demand.”

The king sputtered, but Nate wouldn’t let him get a word in edgewise.

“For weeks you haven’t given me a chance to report her father’s commands to her. The words of the gods aren’t meant for others to hear.”
Might as well go for broke and embellish the hell out of this lie.
“I’m but the vessel for her father Fr’taray’s words. Anyone other than the lady herself hearing the private message will suffer instant, horrible death.”

“And why would I believe ths is true?” The tone of the question was sharp, suspicious.

Nate kept a straight face and nodded with all the sincerity he could manage. “You’ve seen one example of my lady’s powers when she reached forth to heal my wounds. Her father has a thousand times the powers she possesses. Don’t tempt fate by overreaching in the moment.”

The ruler swallowed hard, then again. He checked with Celixia for confirmation. Nate held his breath until the slender priestess nodded her concurrence with his demand for a private moment.

Sarbordon shook him off. “All right, but be quick.” He waved one meaty finger in Nate’s face. “No tricks, I warn you, or you and she will suffer, this I swear. We’ll open this door, and you and Celixia may cross alone. She can sing the last barrier open for you. I’ll allow the space of a few moments for this private communication you insist you must have.”

“My sergeant stays here with you as hostage to my honor,” Nate said, which appeared to mollify the king. Thom probably wasn’t as happy about it, but made no comment.

Nate nodded to the priestesses. “Begin.”

The women chanted as required, standing well back from the wall. As before, the ruler did his part, pressing all the required symbols but the final one, which he indicated Nate should do. Using his fists, he depressed the central symbol, and in a heartbeat he and Celixia were standing alone inside the next alcove, the fat green snakes of pure light crawling harmlessly over their bodies. Nate felt refreshed and restored, much as the lights had cured his headache the first time he’d been here. As he and Celixia emerged from their short walk through the sloping, darkened final corridor, he glanced at his scarred wrists. The effect of the healing green light was further dimming the raw, red marks left from the day of his beating.

Celixia shyly touched his left wrist. “You’ll bear the scars, warrior, but as badges of honor.”

“Badges I could have done without earning. Will you open this final door and let me have a few moments alone with her?” Nate nodded at the massive, translucent black slab barring their way.

She studied his face intently for a moment. “Sarbordon won’t be patient for long, I warn you.” Celixia chanted the three-word vocal key to the chamber, retreating as she did so.

Nate turned away from watching her to find the black door had already responded to her command by silently vanishing from view. He stepped across the threshold into the chamber where Bithia lay.

Strange to be walking where he’d been in dreams so many times over the past several arduous weeks. Nate descended the three stairs as he always did in the dreamspace and walked toward the silvery couch, the lights rising as he approached. Spreading his hand wide, he flattened his palm against the invisible barrier, staring at her.

“I’m here.”

I know.
She kept her eyes shut, but one elegant hand twitched slightly on the couch.
Meeting you again is a joy.

“Thank you for saving my life the other night.” Tongue-tied as he never was in their shared dreamspace, Nate berated himself for the inadequacy of his words considering she’d pulled him from the brink of death.

I had to save you—you’ve become dear to me, the only true friend I’ve known in all my time of imprisonment on this planet. I couldn’t let you die without trying to prevent it. Of the two of us, I’m the one long past their time, the one who must die.

“Don’t say that. We’ll figure something out, I promise.” Nate looked closely at her, realizing she was even more gaunt and drawn than when he’d first seen her. “Are you all right?”

I told you the device is not running properly.

Nate realized she’d mentioned that several times in the dreams, but he hadn’t considered the ramifications, much less the potential physical effects on her.
 

I had to push the absolute limits of what’s possible to come to you that night. But the sacrifice was worth it.

Nate closed his eyes for a moment in pain and frustration. There was so much he wanted to say, on so many topics, that he had no idea where to begin. Sarbordon would bull his way in any moment. The ruler’s presence would end any chance to exchange plans or information. Torn between his personal craving to communicate with Bithia versus the immediate challenges facing them all if they were to survive, he had to prioritize this fleeting opportunity for the latter. The future would have to be dealt with another time. “We just won the sapiche game, and the king tells me you two have a side agreement about a task we’re to do for him. Why should we do anything for him? What’s going on?”

My father left a cache of supplies outside what was the city limit in my time. It’s evidently well known as a shrine to this day. Sarbordon craves the contents, which he imagines to be weapons. He believes the treasures will give him victory over the enemies crowding his borders.

“Is he right? Are there weapons?” His fingers itched to hold an offensive weapon with real firepower.

Not as you are thinking. We didn’t deal in such things.

“It’s been a long time,” he said with cautious understatement. “Do you think anything will be left intact?”

Our storehouses are equipped with a special form of stasis device to maintain the viability of everything within
.
Let me show you how to open the storehouse doors.
Bithia appeared to understand how rushed they were.

He stood with his eyes closed, trying to quiet his own racing thoughts. A rapid series of symbols to be triggered, gemmed switches to be thrown in exacting sequence, flickered through his mind, leaving him dizzy. “How do I find this place?”

The king will take you. This is your chance to escape. My father never let his most trusted local aides inside the storehouse, not even Hialar.
 

Nate caught a backlash of bitterness in her memory of the assistant her father had trusted in all other ways and who had so betrayed her.
 

But Father knew someone might figure out the sequence for opening the cache by watching him. So he rigged a safeguard to render unconscious any locals who enter.

Clever. But he detected the flaw immediately. “How does his precaution help if it knocks Thom and me out?”

The sensor detects one particular set of subgenetic tertiary markers found only in residents of this planet. A side effect of being born under the radiation of the particular star. Do you want an astrophysics-based genetics lecture right now, or can I perhaps recite from the protective-devices manual at a later time?
 

Nate heard her amusement at his doubting caution.
 

You should be fine. The enemy will be completely at your mercy once you reach the warehouse level. They will sleep as long as they remain in my father’s facility.Then you can escape the city, make your way to your own ship and depart from this planet to freedom in the stars. I leave the details to you, my fine warrior friend, but I know you’ll manage. I’ll miss you. Even in my sleep, I dream of you now.

Voices sounded in the small corridor beyond the chamber. Celixia’s soprano tones rose above the general hum, protesting Sarbordon’s move to join them, warning Nate to conclude his private chat. He kept his attention focused on Bithia. “I’m not leaving you.”

You must, you have to.
Panic suffused her tone.
You’ll have only this one chance. Don’t waste it.

“I don’t hear any words of the gods,” the king called from what he’d evidently decided was a safe distance behind them. “I’m coming in, and you’ll do my bidding, warrior. You’ve had long enough to talk to your goddess.”

“Fortunately for you, we’re finished,” Nate said calmly. Stepping away from the barrier, he watched the ruler rush into the chamber. Catching a sideways glance from Thom, Nate made a subtle hand signal to show things were proceeding all right.

Sarbordon strode to the control panel on the far wall. Nate wasted no time in joining him there, clamping his hand over the ruler’s fist. “Gently, we’re going to do this gently. There’s no need to be forceful with her today. She’s eager to grant your wish, but neither she nor I want to endure the pain you inflicted on us both the last time. Got it?”

His enemy glared at him, but whatever he did to trigger the device this time was less physically stressful for Nate, so he hoped it was also easier for Bithia.
 

She opened her eyes and searched for Nate as soon as the device released part of its absolute control over her. Her gaze remained fixed on his face even as she spoke with the king.

“I’ve instructed my warrior to take you to my father’s storehouse,” Bithia told her enemy in the eerily amplified voice. “He’s to make available all of its contents to you today before the sun sets.”
 

Her voice in my head is lighter, more musical.
Nate bit his lip. Now was emphatically not the time to let himself be distracted by thoughts of what he and Bithia shared.

“After you gain entry to the treasures of my father, Fr’taray, you must release my warriors to take passage in their sky chariot to his realm. This must also be done before dawn, or you’ll suffer the consequences of my father’s wrath.”

“You’ll stay?” Sarbordon fingered his belt knife.

“Now that she’s proven her powers he wants to keep her,” Nate whispered in disgust to Thom. The sergeant nodded, a grim set to his face.

“I shall stay,” Bithia agreed, docile and submissive. “My warriors don’t have orders to remove me from this place. I protect and serve you and your people. My duty remains unchanged.”

Not if I have anything to say about it.
Nate marveled at her ability to deal so calmly with her tormentor, but supposed after all the millennia of inadvertent captivity, Bithia had relinquished any hope of release from servitude as a prophetess.
She should trust me not to leave her behind.

Nate picked up Bithia’s cue about the timing. “You’ve heard T’naritza’s decree. We’re to go now, before nightfall. Are you ready?”
 

“We’ll go at once.” The ruler was excited, rubbing his hands together while he visualized the marvels soon to be within his grasp. Abruptly, he flicked the citrine- and amethyst-encrusted gold switch, plunging Bithia into sleep.

Nate lingered behind the others, gazing through the barrier. Gently, he set one hand on the invisible boundary between them, sending an emphatic message:
All I’m asking is for you to hang on. I’ll return for you.

Nate heard the faint whisper of her voice ordering him not to take chances, and then there was only silence in his mind.