The Seer (Tellaran Series) (8 page)

This was hardly a date but it was the closest she’d ever come to one and Arissa swallowed back disappointed tears.

He could have said something kind, even if he didn’t mean it.

She certainly didn’t want to pick up on whatever he was feeling now and distracted herself with the audio system, scrolling through to see the music selections. The whole thing had her wondering what would happen after she helped him with whatever he needed to do. She didn’t even care if it turned out to be illegal although she would prefer it were not immoral. She was very much hoping it didn’t involve hurting anyone.

But once she helped him and she had that permanent ID, there could be a whole life of possibilities. A career, a home, friends, maybe even someone to share that life with . . .

“Let’s go.”

He was dressed in a black shirt, trousers and boots and he’d shaved too. The dark color of his clothes made his light hair more striking but their style was only a little more formal than what he had been wearing earlier.

Arissa chewed the inside of her cheek.

Maybe I’m overdressed.

Jolar looked anywhere but at her and he didn’t stand any closer than necessary even when they were on the crowded lift.

The lift door opened and she started when he touched the small of her back to urge her out. He sent out prickles of annoyance at her reaction.

Arissa followed the other passengers to the dining room, her glance darting about to take it all in. A large room, it was already full of diners. The clinking of glasses and the hum over conversation floated over the instrumental music.

The ceiling above was lit with blue light but as they waited she saw one side change to purple then the color change slowly sweep across the ceiling. A crystalline sculpture in the center of the room kept pace with the color change and the table lights themselves changed.

“It’s so beautiful!” Arissa exclaimed.

Jolar shot her a surprised look. “It’s nice,” he allowed.

A few guests nearby were led by one of the hosts into the dining room. A quick glance showed there was no one else in earshot.

“Do we just wait here?” she whispered.

“What?”

“For them to take us to our table,” she said. At his perplexed pulse, she added, “I mean do we go up or what?”

“We give them our name and then they seat us.”

“Do we pick where we sit or do they?”

His brow creased. “They do.”

“Okay.” The host had come back and timidly Arissa stepped forward.

The man was already feeling tense and overwhelmed though none of it showed in his expression. “Name?”

“Arissa.”

“She’s joking.” Jolar shot her an annoyed look. “The name is Legan.”

The host gave her an uncertain smile. “Please follow me.”

Her face was hot with embarrassment but it was a thrill just to be here, to be able to go in, to sit down with all the beautiful artwork and elegantly dressed people around her.

She smiled at the host when he gave her a menu. She looked around at the other diners, at the décor, at the dresses the other women wore, at how the lights were now a rose pink and changing to red. It was like being in a holodrama.

Jolar’s bewildered glance followed hers. “What are you looking at?”

“Everything,” she murmured.

Their waiter appeared tableside, to fill their glasses with ice water and welcome them. He spoke quickly about the menu’s offerings, describing the chef’s dish in glowing terms before asking for their drink orders.

The man looked at Arissa expectantly, harried beneath his polite expression.

“I don’t  . . . I want a shooting star!” One of her favorite holo characters growing up always drank them. Arissa had never even tried one. “Do you have those?”

The waiter nodded, his face emotionless. Arissa wondered what he found so amusing.

“Two?” he asked Jolar with a raised eyebrow.

Jolar gave him a narrow look. “Wine. One of the Neman vintages if you’ve got it.”

“Dry or sweet?”

“Dry,” Jolar said shortly, his eyes on his menu.

“Thank you,” Arissa called after the waiter as he hurried away.

Jolar stared at her, oscillating spikes of annoyance and confusion.

Arissa ducked her head and scanned the menu. “Everything looks wonderful,” she said shyly. “I don’t even know how to choose.”

Jolar put his menu down. “The chef’s dish sounds good.”

“Oh, uh,” Arissa pitched her voice very low. “I wouldn’t.”

His eyebrows went up, his annoyance rustling. “Why not?”

“Because our waiter wouldn’t. Like it’s—” She considered, frowning a bit. “Like it’s cobbled together to get rid of something that’s going bad. They’re probably making him suggest it.”

Jolar’s glance darted about around them.

“No one’s listening, I che—”

She broke off at his sharp, warning look.

The waiter returned with their drinks. Arissa looked at hers for a long moment, enjoying the fizzling pale pink color of it, the pretty, feminine, frosty glass. She took a sip.

“Oh,” she breathed at the fruity-sweet, light taste. “It’s wonderful.” She beamed up at the waiter. “Thank you so much!”

The waiter’s smile was his first genuine one of the evening. “I hope you enjoy it.”

Jolar lifted his menu again. “Well, I guess I’m skipping the chef’s dish.”

“Wise,” the waiter said under his breath, placing the wine glass on the table.

“What would you recommend?” Jolar asked him suddenly. “If you were going to eat here?”

The waiter hesitated, throwing a glance back where the hosts dawdled.

“The sular steak or the spring medallions are excellent,” he murmured as he poured the wine.

Jolar gave her a questioning look.

“Both sound great,” she agreed. “I’ll take the medallions.”

“The steak,” Jolar said, handing over his menu. “Done medium well.”

Jolar took a swallow of his dry wine as the man moved off.

“Maybe the sweet is better,” Arissa offered.

“Yeah,” Jolar said, looking into his cup. “I was just thinking the dry is—” He broke off, the knuckles of the hand holding his wine glass suddenly showing white.

Nipping her lip, Arissa moved aside her cutlery, smoothed the napkin over her lap.

Jolar put his glass down.

“How was shopping?” he asked at last.

“Fine. How did your work go?” she asked as he was putting his napkin on his lap. “Well, maybe after dinner I could help you with whatever you found so frustrating.”

He went still. “Do you mind letting me be part of this conversation too?” he asked tightly.

Arissa looked at her clasped hands. “Sorry.”

Jolar nodded toward her nearly full glass. “Is your drink all right?”

“Oh, yes. It’s perfect.”

“But you aren’t drinking it.”

“I just want to keep it as long as I can.”

His brow creased. “Why don’t you just order another one?”

“Can I?”

He passed his hand over his eyes. Arissa shifted in her seat as the waiter placed the salad course in front of her.

Jolar shoved his wine glass at the waiter. “Bring me the sweet. And bring her another shooting star.”

“Should I take—”

“No,” Jolar cut him off. “Just bring her a second one.”

Well, with two she could afford to drink more of this one. Arissa took a longer taste, smiling into the glass. 

Jolar immediately downed half his wine when the waiter brought it. Arissa sampled her salad and found the citrusy vinaigrette very good.

“I was thinking about the new house,” Jolar said with a meaningful look. “Do you think it’s large enough?”

She shrugged, spearing more of the greens. “I thought so when we saw it. With the two extra bedrooms we could even make one into a study for you.”

He relaxed a little and picked up his fork. “You aren’t worried about the move?”

“You’ll be there this time. Not like the last time when you were on patrol at the border and I was on my own. It was exhausting.”

“I’d forgotten about that,” Jolar murmured, then his voice took on a brighter note. “Well, we should do something onboard tomorrow. If, of course, you’re finished shopping for now.”

She threw a smile at the waiter as he placed the medallions in front of her. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “There’s an airskating rink, three casinos, a pool, and several gardens onboard. What do you want to do?”

Arissa froze, her fork hovering over her plate. “Everything,” she said, her voice low and fierce. “I want to do everything.”

His blue eyes were a little alarmed and she dropped her gaze.

He took another deep draft of his wine then turned his attention to his dinner.

“Good steak,” he said quietly.

At meals’ end he gave her his dessert after she finished her own. He settled up with the waiter while she scraped the last bit of tararoot mousse from the dish.

He stood and helped her from her chair.

“That was an interesting dinner,” he muttered.

She bit the inside of her cheek. “Can we take a walk?” she asked as they left the dining room. “I’d love to see more of the ship.”

He avoided her eyes. “Let’s go back to the suite first.”

Disappointed, she followed him back.

He leveled his gaze at her as soon as their suite door slid shut behind him. “Here’s the thing, Arissa. It wouldn’t hurt for us to be seen onboard and talk to a few people. I had planned that we’d dine at a table with other passengers in the ship’s main dining room starting tomorrow.”

“Oh.” She wasn’t sure how she felt about having to sit and converse with strangers. She’d never spoken to anyone she didn’t know longer than absolutely necessary. “That wasn’t the ship’s dining room?”

“No,” he said slowly. “That was one of the restaurants. And since we’ll be sitting with other people for the rest of this journey,” he folded his arms, “I really don’t want a repeat of tonight’s dinner performance, okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you acted very oddly,” he said, throwing out little spikes of annoyance. 

“Oh.” She clasped her hands. “I’m sorry. I’ve never eaten in a restaurant before.” Her fingers twisted together. “Maybe if you tell me what I did wrong, it would help.”

His shock rippled. “Are you serious?”

She gave a half-shrug, her cheeks warming. “It was dangerous for me to go anywhere on Apovia so my parents never took me. I bought food from stands when I got to Tellar. There was one restaurant I got food from but I never ate there. I’ve seen people eat at restaurants in holos,” she offered. “Of course that’s usually just before something dramatic happens like someone runs out crying or the place is robbed or something. But,” she said, smiling tentatively, “tonight was wonderful. I’m so glad I finally got to go.”

He passed his hand over his eyes. “You’re serious.”

“Did I do that badly?” The waiter had been amused, but she would bet her life none of the other patrons even noticed her. “I’ll do better next time.”

“I just need—I need to think about this for a minute.” He took a step back. “No, I need more than a minute. I’m going out.”

“You could stay here and I could go,” Arissa offered quickly. “I’d love to go for a walk.” Her shoulders fell in disappointment. “You don’t trust me to go about by myself now.”

Jolar blanched. “Stay here,” he said hoarsely. “Just—stay here. I’ll be back in a couple hours.” He took another step back. “I just need to figure this out.”

Eight

Blue eyes flashed through her mind and she started to wakefulness. Jolar was watching her from the bedroom doorway, still dressed in the clothes he’d worn last night.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

She’d waited for him for hours and finally gone to bed around midnight. She sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “What time is it?”

“Eight hundred hours.” He took a step back. “Come on. It’s time to talk.”

Fear gnawed at her insides and her hands trembled as she dressed. The table was filled again with food and he was pouring white tea for her when she joined him in the little dining area.

He handed her the cup and she wrapped her shaking hands around its warmth.

“Are you sending me back?” she blurted.

“No.” He met her eyes squarely. “I can’t. I convinced the Zartani Councilor that I needed your help. I can’t send you back. And I can’t just send you off on your own. The deal I made with Dacel was that you’d help me on Sertar or no ID.” He shook his head. “I don’t think we have any choice now but to go forward. I think we still can if I can teach you how . . .”

“How not to be so odd,” she finished quietly.

He gave a reluctant nod. “You have to play this part now and you need to do it well.”

“Okay.” Arissa nipped her lip. “What did I do wrong at the restaurant?”

“Not wrong.” He rubbed his eyes. “I understand now why you would be so . . .
enthusiastic.
It just never occurred to me that this would be a problem.” He sighed. “Sit down. You’ve got to be hungry.”

She looked over the dishes. Now that she knew he wasn’t going to send her back to Tellar, her appetite was returning. She picked up a plate, noticing again that he took nothing but caf for himself. She wondered where he’d been all night.

“What do you know about Sertar?”

She paused, the serving spoon in her hand. “Lots. I can tell you about the planet’s typography, its weather patterns, the mass—”

His mouth quirked upward. “No, sorry. About the
government
of Sertar.”

She finished scooping the fried hoss onto her plate, then added grimp toast next to the vegetable. “Uh, Sertar once had a prince and lords who held various territories but now it’s a republic of elected officials.” She glanced at him. “Like Zartan.”

He gave a nod. “But, unlike my homeworld, Sertar’s struggle to move from an aristocracy to a republic has been—I don’t want to say unsuccessful—let’s just say that things didn’t change much under the new system. It’s really just an oligarchy now. Of all the worlds in the Realm, Sertar is the most corrupt.”

Arissa washed down the grimp toast with a sip of juice. “Okay.”

“And Sertar has one thing that the entire Realm needs.”

“Astuk crystals,” Arissa said automatically.

Jolar gave a nod. “Without that power source there is no
Queen’s Light
, no Fleet, no Tellaran Realm because all shipping, all interplanetary trade comes to a stop.” He looked into his cup. “The lords fought for control, princes rose and fell, but as long as the crystals continued to be mined they were left to settle things however blood-soaked way they wanted. Sertar—the government there—has always been weak, corrupt. Enough money can make the officials there look the other way on anything. Even murder. Even treason.”

She frowned. “You’re going there to end the corruption?”

He gave a snort. “No, that’s a task beyond anyone. I’m going there because the Zartani Councilor no longer knows who else he can trust.”

“You’re afraid,” Arissa said frowning.

His gaze met hers, the skin beside his eyes tight. “Someone on Sertar is gathering a lot of power, using a lot of money to move people into new positions. With that kind of control over the energy supply they could devastate trade, they could bring the Realm to its knees. I need to find out who or we might find our entire economy, even the Fleet itself, crippled.”

“That’s why you’re going there? That’s what you need my help to do?’

“I’m not the first Dacel sent.” He hesitated. “I’ve read over that agent’s reports.”

She blinked. “He’s dead, isn’t he? The one he sent before you.”

“Yes.” His blue eyes were grave. “That’s why you’re here, why Dacel agreed to let you come. I told him you could help me stay alive long enough to complete this mission. From what I’ve seen already, I know you can.” He searched her face. “Will you?”

“You’re afraid that a Seer can’t be trusted. That because of what I am I might give you away.” Funny how much that hurt.

“I don’t want to think that you would.” He hesitated. “And I need to know—now—that you won’t.”

She chewed her lip. “How do I know that ID is really there for me? You could kill me after I help you and no one would care.”

Shock and horror rippled from him. “You saved my
life!
As a Zartani— I owe you your life in return and this is only way I can get it for you. Help me and, on my soul, Arissa, that ID and your freedom are yours.”

She probed the weight, the heft of his mind. He meant what he said. She gave a nod. “I’ll help you.”

“This is our lives now, Arissa. We have to be able to trust each other. We have to have each other’s backs. Can I trust you?”

“Yes,” she promised. “You can.”

He searched her face and whatever he saw there made his tension fall a bit. “Then for the next few days we’re going to concentrate on getting ready for Sertar. Whatever it takes, we have make sure that by the time we’re planetside no one will doubt we are who we say we are, understand?”

“Yes.”

“I only have a few days to get you ready,” he warned. “I don’t have time for niceties. Whatever I do, I’m doing to try to keep us alive.”

“Okay.” She swallowed. “Jolar, what did I do wrong at the restaurant?”

His sense wavered then hardened. “You didn’t know how to be seated. You were too friendly to the waiter. Overwhelmed by the kind of beverage preteen girls drink. Too impressed with a not terribly impressive eatery.”

“Oh,” she said, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry.”

“There’s no time for that.” His face was grim. “No time for ‘sorry’ or hurt feelings. If we fail there, we die. I’m going to—
we’re
going to do whatever it takes to succeed. Understand?”

Her mind suddenly flashed to the Utavian man he’d shot. He hadn’t wanted to kill but it hadn’t stopped him.

“Will we have to hurt anyone?”

“I hope not,” he said. “But if we have to, we have to.”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Less friendly, more reserved. Okay.”

“I also don’t want you to think you didn’t impress me last night. You did plenty right.”

She blinked. “I did?”

“Yes. The way you could pick up what the waiter was thinking for instance.”

“What the waiter…? Oh, right. The chef’s special. But that was easy.”

“That was incredible.”

She ducked her head and took a quick sip of tea. “I made you uncomfortable.”

“Yes,” he said bluntly. “You did. And I was worried you would be overheard.”

“Oh, no. I knew no one was paying us any attention. The waiter was too harried to care and the other patrons were focused elsewhere.”

“I see.” His sense oscillated as if he were trying to steady himself. “I guess I don’t need to tell you to be careful about keeping your—talent—quiet.”

Arissa thought of the years her parents hid her, the months she’d spent staying out of sight on Tellar, of using that split second inattention to lift a billfold or slip away with some bauble she could hock to keep herself fed for a few more days, the awful risks. “No, you don’t.”

“You also fell right into your role when I prompted you and you remembered good details. It sounded natural.”

“Maybe I’ll become an actress after this is over.” His surprise rippled. “I’m joking. Go on. I like hearing about what I did right.”

His mouth curved. “Of course you read me very well.” His smile faded. “It makes me wonder how much you know about me.”

“You’re not what you look like.”

His brow creased. “What does
that
mean?”

Even with likely no sleep, his blond hair mussed from running his hand through it, a day’s growth in beard, Jolar was astonishingly good-looking. With those striking blue eyes, full mouth and his tall, lean strength it was no wonder women’s eyes followed him everywhere.

He certainly had her, as little used to men as she was, let alone any who looked like him, practically stumbling over herself.

But beneath that golden exterior, his mind was serious, very deeply responsible, so committed to doing the right thing, so guarded against anyone getting too close.

She looked down at her tea. “Nothing. You’re just not what I expected.”

“I never got a chance to ask you.” He leaned forward, his arms on the table, his shirt pulling tight over his broad shoulders. “Why did you help me on Tellar? You could have kept out of it but I saw you slip into that alley after he’d pulled the blaster. You risked your life to save mine. Why?”

“I wasn’t going to,” she admitted. “I looked at you and all I could see was someone who had everything I never would. But you’re a good man, an honorable one.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “You didn’t deserve to die like that.”

“A good, honorable man,” he echoed with a sudden flash of bitterness. He stood abruptly. “Let me grab a shower and get changed. Then we’re going out.”

“Where?”

“You wanted to see and do everything,” he replied. “I can’t think of a better way of letting you practice.”

“Jolar, I’m not sure this was a good idea, after all,” Arissa said. She had yet to gather the courage to let go of the rail around the airskating rink.

Jolar glided easily beside her.
He
was perfectly comfortable floating four inches above the floor. He even managed to look graceful despite his great height, handsome even in airskating boots that were clunky and unflattering on
everyone
.

The rink was empty now save for the two of them. There had been a family here when they first arrived.  Seeing how much better even the little ones were at this than she proved so profoundly disheartening she was relieved when they left.

He held his hand out to her. “Come on. I won’t let you fall.”

She was less worried about falling than she was looking ridiculous in front of him.

But she didn’t want to look a coward either.

Shakily she let go of the rail.

His grip was strong and sure, his long fingers wrapped around hers. “Come on, sweet,” he urged. “Give me your other hand.”

Flushing with pleasure at the unexpected endearment she let go of the railing and reached her hand out to take his.

Jolar smiled down at her, his blue eyes shining, her hands in his warm grip and for a moment she couldn’t breathe.

“Turn your feet a little toward me.”

She got her feet pointed in the right direction. She knew she should try to move forward but her legs felt wooden and standing there, gripping his hands in terror was all she could manage.