allies and enemies 02 - rogues (30 page)

Although one Cassandra was identical to another, the previous owners had done some modifications to the bunkroom. A large bed had replaced the narrow bunks. Lockers and shelving for storage lined the walls to make the most of the cramped space. The interior walls were a pale blue—something other than Fleet brown.

Someone had called this ship home.

She liked that idea. Turning her head against the cushion, she watched the steady rise and fall of Asher’s chest. In this light, she could barely discern the paler patches of skin where the heavy ink of the tattoos once resided along his jaw and cheek. There were still designs in thick black and red on his chest and arms.

“Those are mine to keep,” was his cryptic response.

He slept still, or at least seemed to. In the restful, languid quiet, she waited for the tide of regret to fill her. Any moment now, the recount of consequences of her decisions would begin.

It never came. The memory-echoes of everyone the Sight had claimed were mute. Even the Tyron-voice failed to chastise her. This was the first moment of peace she had known in so long, she could not recount the last. She savored it, drifting in a drowsy pleasant haze, and shifted in the cool softness of the sheets until her bare skin met Asher’s.

“Anyone else would find waking up to someone staring at them weird.” His arm snaked across her waist. “I choose to be flattered.”

“I wasn’t staring.”

“Then you were thinking. I could practically hear it.” He pushed up on an elbow.

His fingers absently toyed with her wrist. His massive hands could circle thumb and forefinger around the slender bones there. She stiffened as he mapped the healing red marks where once she had tried to carve a demon out of her skin in a half-remembered nightmare.

She waited for a question. None came. His fingers interlaced with hers. He kissed her hair, her neck.

“No. Actually I wasn’t.” She smiled. “Not a damned thing.”

“Incredible. We should tell someone.” His mouth claimed hers in a solid lingering kiss. The cooler air of the room met her skin as he tugged the sheets from her body. His body pressed close, sharing his warmth.

“It can wait.” He breathed against her neck as he sank down against her.

71

“Will you and Asher have lots of babies?”

Erelah jerked her head up, thwacking her forehead on the sloped profile of the navsys access panel. She’d been daydreaming, half-intent on the task at hand. She withdrew from the tight space. The angle limited her view to the floor and a pair of tiny bare feet dangling above the deck. The girl had climbed onto the grav couch.

“Mim!” Erelah grouched, rubbing her temple. “It’s not polite to sneak up on people.”

The girl swung her feet in lazy circles. “You didn’t answer my question, silly.”

“What?”

“Do you think you’ll have lots of babies?”

“With whom?” Erelah huffed. Warmth flooded her face.

“Asher,” she sing-songed. “I was in love with him first, you know. But it’s okay. He’s way too old anyway.”

Erelah pulled herself back under the panel. “You’re being precocious.”

“What’s preco-lous…mean?”

“Precocious. It means ‘nosy little girls’.”

“Huh.” There was a thoughtful silence. “Well, are you?”

Erelah wriggled back out into the open. Mim’s hopeful grin greeted her. The girl now lay along the floor, her chin propped on her fists.

“Doesn’t Kelta need you back at the house?”

“Probably.” Mim shrugged. “But I wanted to come help
you
.”

“Perhaps you can help Asher in the market instead. If you hurry, you might catch him.” He seemed more accustomed to the little girl being his shadow.

“You want me to go away, right?” A frown creased her forehead.

“If you’re not going to help, then, yes, little one.”

“I’m not
that
little.”

“Exactly.”

“I can help.
Please.
” She reached for a tray of sensor nodes. Erelah guided her hand away from their sharp edges.

“I left something at the house. Can you fetch it for me?”

The girl nodded ardently.

“A metal box. This big.” She held her hands about a foot apart. “It’s got a bunch of tools in it.” In truth, it was a mismatched spanner set and a spare node charger, nothing essential to the repairs on the velo. But the girl did not know this. She could only read emotions. “Think you can find it?”

Another bouncing nod. “I can be fast. Miss Kelta always sends me out for things because I can run fast.”

I’m sure that’s not the only reason.

Mim squinted. Her maroon stare flashed with wisdom well beyond her years. Erelah felt a sensation brush against her. The small hairs on her arms stood up. The girl was peering at her “colors” again. Perhaps she sensed the lie buried in the errand.

“I can help. I won’t get in the way.” A pout filled Mim’s voice.

“Then quick, quick,” Erelah urged, forcing her thoughts away from the minor falsehood. The girl was indeed perceptive.

Mim scampered down the ladder and disappeared over the lip of the loft. Erelah felt a sliver of guilt, but she’d bought herself at least an hour without the interruption of curious little girl questions.

She maneuvered back into the panel’s tight squeeze and grinned at the mass of wires, feeling slightly foolish.

This is what I’m meant for.

For once, the weight of the Known Worlds no longer sought to crush her. The past few days had sped by. Despite their tendency to get…distracted, Asher had proven helpful in fitting the jdrive to the Cassandra’s velo. In a fit of inspiration, she had come up with an explanation for the chrono-shift. In both instances of lost time, the jdrive had been used in the vicinity of a sizeable velo engine engaged in active spool up or energy discharge. The time loss seemed proportionate to the size of the exposure. She’d been able to write code for the navsys to help avoid similar disturbances in flight.

All that remained was a final shakedown flight. Perhaps tomorrow, or the next day. In her secret heart, she knew the refit was completed. Any tweaks she added now were stalling. For what? They would find Jon and then…it emptied out into a blank space.

Many of her conversations with Asher over the past week had started out with the best intentions, but never settled on a decision. It ended with…more distracting. As invigorating as those distractions were, Asher was not one to talk of the future beyond his immediate goals. It was just how he was.

A clang sounded from the other hatchway. Erelah turned, listening.

Mim was back already. That seemed too fast. Time did have a way of slipping by while she worked.

The tread on the common passage deck plates seemed too heavy. The girl usually moved with great stealth.

“Asher?”

No answer. An icy grip settled on her. Erelah reached for the largest of the spanners. She hefted it. Not much of a weapon, but it would have to do.

She slid out of the space onto her stomach. Her boot collided with the tool kit, sending it skittering. She grimaced.

If someone else had stolen aboard, they knew where she was now.

“There’s nothing here worth stealing,” she called out cautiously, sidling to the edge of the command loft.

A giant hand snapped around her ankle. Ott glared at her. “Wouldn’t say that, love.”

72

Danger!

The color bloomed to envelop the ship. Mim let the strap slip from her shoulder. The toolbox clattered to the ground, spilling its contents. She did not notice.

Her entire body was pushing out, sensing the source of the warning. Thick green tendrils mingled with a noxious blue. The colors she associated with hurt, pain. Bad things. From this distance, she could not tell who their owner was. That was always the hard part.

She glanced around the shipyard. Except for some men in brown coveralls far away, there were no grownups nearby. The outside of the funny looking ship Erelah had called a Cass was unchanged. Only now, it was coated with
fear
and
bad
. Mim frowned. The color curdled to black on its edges.

Black was worse. Black meant dead
.

As much as the sensation frightened her, she knew she faced a choice: investigate or run off, find Asher. He would know what to do.

The black thickened, it was nearly solid now. It meant someone was dying. Fast.

She moved along the ship’s side, and hesitated at the open door. She drew in breath, ready to call out, but stopped. There was more than one person inside. She saw a deep yellow, worked through with burning red. It flared like a fire, out of control, eating the air around it. Something
really
bad had happened. Fear shook her body.

Don’t be a little baby. It’s just colors. They can’t hurt you none.

Drawing herself up, she stepped inside, careful to make her moves extra quiet. Tired, faded colors in the galley from forever ago. The bunkroom just held the old pink colors from kissing and mushy stuff that under different circumstances would have made her giggle.

There. Up the ladder where Erelah had been. It was a squirming nest of green and black now. Mim swallowed.

“Er’lah?”

She heard a shallow moan. It wasn’t the kind of sound a girl would make. More like a man. A big man.

The ladder stretched up into the uncertain.

Don’t be a baby. Go look.

Her hands were damp against the uprights as she climbed the rungs, inching up. She pulled herself even with the edge and froze. A man’s face stared back at her. His eyes fixed. His mouth gaped open against his bushy beard.

She screeched. Its echo was loud against the metal walls. A pale hand flopped into view. Erelah lay on the other side of the big man. Her eyes shut. Blood oozed from her nose. Her body trembled and writhed.

Mim dropped down to the deck. Her feet tangled. She fell sprawling, gouging a knee. The girl scrambled through the hatch, ignorant of the blood running down her leg.

Get help! Now!

73

The door swung open with enough force to strike the wall. It rattled the entire house. Asher’s sprint back from the market was a blur. The moment he saw the usually stoic Thonn standing in the street, his stomach turned to stone. The valet was barely through his message when Asher rushed for the house, plowing through the foot traffic and daring anyone to get in his way.

“Erelah.” Asher ran up the stairs, taking two at a time.

Kelta met him on the landing. She placed her hands on his chest to halt him. “The sisters are with her. She rests now. Some sort of fit—”

Asher angled past her and into the room. Two women dressed in the crimson vestments of the holy sisters threw him sour looks as he settled onto the edge of the bed.

Let them try to keep me from her.

Her thin frame was lost in the deep piles of pillows and blankets. Her pale skin glazed with sweat. Eyes shut beneath purple lids. Dried blood crusted her face. “Erelah.”

Her eyes opened a sliver. The sound wheezed from her. “It was Ott.”

I should have stayed with her.

Fury seized him by the throat.

She must have been cornered. The Sight. It was her only defense. Her words came in short gasps. “I saw it. He knew where to look. A bounty. On me and you. The Humans are looking for me.”

Gathering up her limp hand, he pressed a gentle kiss against her fingers. The knuckles were bloodied and raw.

“Rest,” he hushed.

“Asher…” Kelta’s hand settled on his shoulder. Her voice pleading.

He granted her his profile. “Tell me.”

“Mim found her like this. Her attacker lies dead. A beast of a man with Zenti clan marks on his face.”

How had Ott known where to look? Why would the Humans seek them? They
had
Northway already.

“I sent Thonn for the Lord Protector in Pelm.”

“No. Get him back here.” The fewer that saw Erelah, the better. It was instinct, a sharpness in the air, the way the pressure changed before a storm. Something bad was coming for them. Local enforcers would be out of their depth.

“Why would—”

“No one can know.” He watched the nurses whisper to themselves, busy with salves and bandages. One of them cast another narrow glance in his direction. “Not even the enforcers.”

The braver of the two nurses approached the opposite side of the bed and dabbed a cloth at the frayed knuckles of Erelah’s left hand. At the casual touch, the girl’s body stiffened. A tremor shook her. Her spine went rigid. The Sight. Just like what had happened on Ix’s vessel. They were making it worse each time they touched her.

He shoved the woman away. She squawked like a startled bird. “Don’t touch her!”

No one knew about Narasmina, save Ulrid. He was dead. The Humans must have a way of tracking them.

“Come away.” Kelta pulled at his shoulders. “Let them work.”

“They can’t do anything.”

“You’re not making sense.”

“The last time this happened, Northway fixed it. But she was a type of splicer.”

“A splicer…Asher.” The confusion was plain in her voice.

There was no time for stories. He waved off the protests of the nurses and drew Erelah up in his arms. Her body went slack as he lifted her. The knot in his gut worsened. “Is Picus still alive?”

“From what I hear, yes.” Kelta’s face pinched with distress. Her hand hovered at the crown of Erelah’s head. Even she seemed afraid to touch her now. “But he sees no one. How will you get him to help?”

“Not me. You.” He jerked his chin, urging her to follow him. “He’ll listen to you.”

74

“And how is this my concern?”

Lecco Picus scowled from the vid screen.

Asher would have ripped the device from the wall in a fit of rage, but he held Erelah’s limp form.

Nightfall had come in earnest. It had taken far too long to get here. The entrance of Picus’s lair was wedged into the rocky cliffs overlooking the main harbor. The footpath to the thick metal hatchway was dotted with surveillance equipment: vid crawlers, automated hover drones. A glowsphere emitted a blue fan of light, scanning them from head to toe as their party reached the door. The man was a recluse, but by Asher’s definition, it seemed more akin to paranoia. Anyone with the same gruesome reputation as Picus might do the same.