Balance (The Neumarian Chronicles) (11 page)

Father pulled me to him again. I struggled to free myself but couldn’t. He pressed my head to him, rubbed my back, and stroked my hair.
“I was wrong, Semara. If you shut off your feelings, you’ll lose your passion, be it to fight or love. Strategies and weaponry will consume you, and you’ll forget why you’re fighting. Until I saw you again, I was focused on winning the war. Yes, I’d built a life here for my people and protected it at all costs, but the only emotion I felt was a hate-driven need for vengeance. Now, I have you and I’m able to look beyond my blinding hatred. It’s time to bring down Mandesa, but not out of revenge. It’s time to restore peace and freedom.”

Tears welled in my eyes and I blinked them away. I couldn’t keep taking emotional hits. Wrapped in my father’s embrace I knew that one day a decision I made would cost me everything I valued. But I couldn’t let the fear keep me from doing what must be done. Better to tuck any tenderness away until after we defeated
Mandesa.

I lifted my
head and met his gaze head-on. “Then you and we will fail.”

“You lied to me
,” my father accused.

“
About what?”

“Y
ou said you weren’t hurt. And maybe you weren’t physically, but you’ve been hurt and suffered over your choices, mine, Bendar’s, and everyone who’s touched you.”

Chapter Fourteen

When I left the
Freedom
, I rejoiced in escaping the perpetual night of crawling along the ocean floor. Yet over the past few weeks, I’d experienced something worse, neither night or day, only an endless gray fog. Now, shuffling through the underground of the Arc, I was mentally and physically exhausted. Working sometimes thirty-six hours straight, rebuilding our home, living on edge, and fearing another betrayal, had taken their toll.

My father nudged my mind, jerking me from my thoughts. He’d done this, touching my mind, often since the suicide bombing. No words, more like a mental hug to let me know he was there and cared. As much as it left me feeling loved, all I truly wanted was Ryder, to feel the soul-deep connection we’d had prior to realizing he’d lost ninety percent of his gift. While I still believed it would return, I worried he didn’t.

After checking on Penton’s condition, I headed for the makeshift infirmary. With the mess hall filled to capacity and the infirmary destroyed in the bombing, the medics had setup a temporary facility near the orphanage. As I neared Briggs’s bed, I froze. Ryder sat on the thin mattress beside her, her hand clasped between his. Their faces were so close their lips nearly touched, his attention focused solely on her. They looked like lovers.

Since his release from the infirmary, Ryder had barely touched or kissed me. Even the amount of time I got to see him had become almost nonexistent. True, my long hours spent helping repair the Arc didn’t leave me much leisure time, but even when I could spare a moment, it seemed Ryder always had an excuse to keep him away.

I needed his arms wrapped tight around me, needed him to make love to me and fall asleep by my side. Without him, the darkness of our world became unbearable.

I moved to the wall facing Briggs and leaned against it for support. With Ryder’s back to me, and Briggs only looking at him, I fought the urge to march over and demand she keep her mitts off my man. But now, as I watched them, I wondered if I’d already lost him.

Spotting Thornton heading toward me, I shook my head, holding my hand up. The last thing I wanted was his pity or interference. As for Ryder, three months ago he would have known the second I entered the infirmary. He claimed the very air changed when I was near. No longer, it seemed.

Thornton nodded and moved on to his next patient. Noticing the dark circles under his eyes, I knew his days and nights were as stressful as, if not more than, mine.

He finished with the patient then strode to Briggs and lifted her hand from Ryder, his fingers on her wrist checking her pulse. “It’s good to see you awake this morning, Lieutenant Briggs,” he said, his voice carrying across the room.

Briggs moved her other hand to Ryder, clinging to his arm and my heart sank a little further. “I still can’t move my legs. Please, Thornton. Give it to me straight.”

Thornton’s gaze remained on his halo pad.

Letting go of Ryder, she grabbed Thornton’s arm. “No more stalling. Just tell me the truth. I can handle it. It’s the not know
ing that’s killing me.”

Thornton released her wrist and lowered the halo pad. “The bomb’s shrapnel severed your spinal cord at L-4. If we can find a healer, there’s an eighty percent chance of recovery, so don’t lose hope. I’ve contacted the UE, hoping they could send us one, but I haven’t heard anything yet.”

Ryder shook his head. “The other day you talked about nerve regeneration. What about that?”

Thornton momentarily closed his eyes. “It only works if there’s a single thread still connected. It provides a bridge, a platform if you will, from which the spinal cord rebuilds. In your case, that isn’t possible.”

Briggs collapsed back on the bed, sobbing. Ryder pressed his face to hers, murmuring something I couldn’t hear and stroking her arms. As she calmed, he eased back. “We’ll find a healer. But for now, Penton can fix you up with a fancy chair.”

Briggs’s fists pounded against the bed. “I’m a soldier, a mother, and a widow.
What am I to do? How can I take care of my son when I can’t even provide for us?” She froze, her eyes widening in horror. “Do you think they’ll make me leave the Arc?” When Ryder remained silent, she said, “If they do, will you take Laos?”

“Stop talking foolishly. You’re a warrior, injured by a traitor. You won’t be turned out, and you won’t have to leave Laos. I wouldn’t let that happen, trust me.” He smiled and leaned closer. “That boy loves you. You love him, too, and you’re a good mom.”

Briggs swiped her nose with the back of her hand. “But not one who can protect him.” She held his gaze then squared her shoulders. “I saved your ass out there. It’s time for you to fulfill your promise. You’ll protect my boy. You’re all he’s got now.”

Ryder shook his head. “No, I’m not. He not only has you but everyone in the Arc.”

She opened her mouth, about to say something, when Thornton’s halo pad beeped a warning. “I’ve warned you before, don’t get over-excited. Between your original injury and your most recent one, plus the surgery, your body’s experienced extreme stress. Unless you want to have a stroke and really become an invalid, calm down. If you can’t then there’ll be no more visitors.”

Briggs thrashed against Thornton’s restraint. “Good, I should die. I should’ve died when the bomb went off.”

The halo pad screamed in a frenzy of beeps and I knew her vitals were spiking. Thornton waved at a medic. “Sedation, now,” he ordered.

When Briggs tried to push up, Thornton and Ryder pressed her flat. “Until your vertebrae have healed, you can’t move. Otherwise, you’ll be in restraints, not just the traction device.” He took a syringe from the medic, pulled her sheet to the side, and injected the sedative in her hip. “Do you understand me?”

Tears streaming down her face, she slowly relaxed. “Yes.”

“Good. One more alert and I’m putting you under.” Pivoting, he hurried to the next emergency.

Eyes narrowed, she followed his back then, spotting me, said something to Ryder. He swung around, looked directly at me then turned back to Briggs without acknowledging my presence.

She clutched his shirt, weakly trying to tug him closer. “Promise me you…” Her body went limp, her hands dropping from him.

Ryder kissed her forehead and stood. “I promise,” he muttered. “Our kind always takes care of one another.”

Our kind? What d
oes that mean?

Shoulders slumped, Ryder raked his fingers through his hair.

I licked my lips, remembering the feel of his fingers on my skin, the softness of his hair as I played with it. Sighing, I pushed off the wall and started for the exit.

“Where’re you going?” Ryder asked, catching me as I reached the doorway.

“I came to talk,” I said, keeping my tone flat. “From the look of things, now isn’t a good time.”

Thornton walked up to us. “She’ll be out for several hours. Get something to eat and rest. I’ll send word as soon as she wakes.”

Ryder grunted in acknowledgement then grabbed my hand and dragged me to his quarters. Once inside it, he faced me. “Let’s talk.”

His thinned lips pressed together warned me this talk wasn’t going to be warm and fuzzy. “I’m sorry about Briggs,” I said softly.

He didn’t respond, not even to reassure me it wasn’t my fault. Had he finally decided it was? Did he blame me for Briggs’s paralysis? I blinked back the wetness in my eyes. If only my fire had hit the bomber’s trigger. All those casualties, all those people lying in the mess hall and makeshift infirmary…None of it would have happened if only I’d…

Ryder moved to the other side of his small room, yet it felt as if he’d moved to the other side of the planet. He leaned against the desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “You wanted to talk, so spill it.”

“I-I’m sorry Briggs is suffering. I never meant—”

Ryder took a deep breath, his face relaxing a little. “I know. You’ve said that a hundred times. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

Then why does it still feel like it is?
“It wasn’t yours either. And what did you mean by
our kind
?

Ryder scrubbed his face. “Let it go,” he murmured.

I stepped up to him, desperate to connect, to feel our souls merge. Wrapping my arms around him, I stroked his back. “I miss you.”

He leaned his forehead against mine. “I miss you, too,” he said, the familiar hunger in his voice reassuring me. “I love you.”

I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you, too, and I want you. Now.”

He tensed and, leaning back, turned his head away from me.

“Ryder?”

He dropped his hand from me and eased toward the door.

I fought the sting of tears. “You hate me, don’t you? You say you don’t blame me for what happened to Briggs. Yet you remain at her side instead of mine. Don’t misunderstand me, I want you to be there for her, to help her through this, but I need you, too.” Steeling my emotions, I turned to face him. “You say you love me. So, why won’t you touch me? Until three months ago, no one—zombies, scavengers, assassins, my father, the rebellion, or even Mandesa’s entire army—could keep you away. Now, you cringe at the sight of me.”

“I can’t do this,” Ryder said, his shoulders hunched and his head hanging. “I’m a shell of what I once was. A failure to the Triune.”

“I don’t care about the Triune. I love you. You’re the only one…”

Ryder’s sad gaze met mine. “I know, but I can’t be with you right now.” He let out a heavy sigh and I flinched. “Non-gifted. That’s what
our kind
means.”

Chapter Fifteen

Eighteen months later
:

I sat at the head of the command center’s briefing table, my father leaning against the white-washed wall behind me, his arms folded across his chest. Together, we listened to, or rather endured, the litany of complaints we fielded daily, but no one frustrated me more than Sergeant Walker.

Inhaling, I counted to twenty then back down to zero. It didn’t work. I glanced at Father.

You’re chairing today’s meeting
, he said in my mind.
Handle it.

Thanks,
Father
.

Ignoring his mental chuckle, I straightened in my chair and leaned forward. Over the past eighteen months, I’d learned a lot about the body language of power. It helped that Walker sat three chairs down from me.
“We’ve done a good job of pulling together,” I said, keeping my voice neutral. “Because we’ve been spared further assault on the Arc or our people, too many of us have forgotten we’re at war. Well, Upper Europe hasn’t been so lucky. It’s being hammered with small but decisive attacks weekly.”

Clenched hands
on the table, Walker curled his lip. “This is crap. We’ve lost troops fighting with UE. Our ships patrol and enforce the embargo.”

I
met Walker glare for glare. “I agree. And these actions have weakened Mandesa. However, she’ll have to attack soon or face a coup, and she’ll wipe all life off this planet before she’d let someone usurp her power. We either brace ourselves for combat here or take the war to her.”

“Maybe we should talk peace
,” said a man seated next to Dred. “Open our borders in exchange for freeing all Neumarians from slavery.”

Gasps filled the room.

Father turned and faced the newcomer. “Are you so naïve that you trust she’ll keep her word? Because I don’t. I saw her promise my wife—her sister—security and love and then witnessed her wielding the blade that beheaded my Lanena. Mandesa’s a sick, pathological liar. She’ll say or promise anything to get what she wants, while plotting to rip out your heart and grind it beneath her heel.”

“Here. Here
,” Fallon said. “Trust Mandesa and you can guarantee your demise. Especially if you’re Neumarian.”

Dred thumped the table.
“She be hittin’ Oasis hard. Me people keep fightin’, won’t bow to her. She be weak and in need of supplies. It’s time to fight.”

I flashed him a smile.
“And we thank you and yours for your sacrifices. Our spies have infiltrated Acadia and established networks. Penton’s weaponry is ready for deployment. We only need a month more—”

“No disrespect, pretty face,
” Dred cut in, “but Penton’s weapon’s been ready for a while. What’s the hold up?” Slouching in his chair, Dred scratched his arm and leaned to the side, nudging the newcomer to the point he almost fell onto the floor.

It seemed Dred didn’t like or trust the man. I didn’t either and wanted to know how an unknown managed to penetrate the command center, let alone this briefing. Eyes narrowed, I reached out for my father.
Do you know this peace-talk clown?

No, but I intend on finding out how he got in here
.

A knock on the closed door prevented my response. “Come.”

A young boy, no more than twelve, entered the room. “General Bellator, sir, an emergency channel communication from UE council. Code: alpha, delta, two, niner.”

When Father motioned for me to accompany him,
I stood and moved forward then glanced back at the table. “Fallon, you have the meeting.” I closed the door behind me and joined Father at the com.

“
I’ll open it in my office,” he told the com operator. We moved in unison to his office, sealed ourselves in and flipped on the white noise scrambler. Seconds later, we heard the message. “Queen Valderak has requested a peace talk. Need to meet. Cease fire has begun. Will travel in cargo plane to the Arc. Request escort upon arrival.”

F
ather’s fists pressed into his desk. “Damn it, I should’ve expected this.”

“
We both should’ve. Given the unknown newcomer’s comment, it seems we have our answer as to who he serves.”

Scowling, he nodded. “
Can’t hide receiving this message. Did you see that spy gloating at its arrival?”

“
Yes. And I agree. We’ll have to accept and inform the briefing of this development.”

“The key will be planning our reaction to her offer, our counter proposal, and ultimately, our refusal. But not today. Today we only relay
Mandesa’s message and escort her spy out…permanently.

“
You mean…”

“
Yes.” Father glanced at me and pressed the reply button. “Affirmative. We await arrival info.”

“Now what?” I said as soon as he clicked off again.

“Return to the briefing and wait until I enter. I’ll handle our spy.”

Three minutes later, Father entered the room with five armed men from our special ops division. Two of them hoisted the spy by his arms and, with one man in front and two behind, they quick-marched him from our midst. Only then did Father shut the door and join me at the head of the table.
“UE has informed us that Mandesa’s requested peace talks,” my father said. “While I’d like to believe her lack of supplies is behind her action, I don’t. History has taught us, when dealing with a tyrant, if you want to survive your defenses must be impenetrable and your response in place. I’ll contact our spies in the territories and set the stage for our invasion should she be true to form.” He straightened, his gaze drifting from one person to another, lingering a second longer on Fallon. “Dismissed.”

As
I watched everyone file out, I sighed. Yet again, Ryder hadn’t attended. He wasn’t just missing briefings, he also wasn’t talking to me. Gradually over the past eighteen months, he’d pulled away, his primary focus on Briggs and Laos. So much for getting married, I wasn’t even on his radar. And that hurt worse than any wound Mandesa could have ever inflicted upon me.

Father cupped my chin.
“He’s busy—”

“
Don’t. If it were anyone else, you wouldn’t tolerate this behavior. And don’t even start on his good work at the orphanage and how he’s helped Briggs.”

“You’re right
, but he isn’t anyone else. He’s your fiancé, and it’s nearly your birthday.”

I shrugged. Given the celebration of my sixteenth precipitated my escaping
Mandesa, and my seventeenth a blur of nothing, I wasn’t anxious for another one any time soon. “We decided no birthday celebrations until we’re free, except for the kids. Remember?”

He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and
as usual, I snuggled in, letting his love warm me. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I can’t hug my daughter and wish her well.” As my tension fled and the tight knots in my neck eased, he asked, “From what Dred let slip, Penton’s completed the weapon.”

“
He’s stalling. The weaponry was ready six months ago, but he won’t admit it. I suspect it’s because he’s worried about how it’ll be used.”

The
messenger from earlier raced in, tapped his heels together, and saluted. “Sir, second message.”

Growling,
Father started for his office.

“
Sir, the queen sent it over an open channel,” the boy said, halting my father in his tracks. “It said she wants peace talks, but only with certain people.”

I arched a brow at my father. He and I knew the answer, but for form sake, I asked,
“Who does she want?”

“Ryder and Raeth.”

“What?” A tsunami of rage crashed over me. Anything with metal near me melted in an instant. The screws holding the table together oozed from the wood and the whole thing crashed to the floor. The brass of a clock ran down the wall opposite me.

As my shaking increased, Father’s
hand clamped onto my shoulder. “Semara, calm yourself.”
You haven’t used your powers in months. Dormancy for that length of time means the release can be catastrophic. Be still, breathe, and center yourself. You can’t lose it in front of personnel.

Struggling to not hyperventilate,
I clenched then straightened my fingers repeatedly as I fought to find my center. I knew it wasn’t my lack of using my gift that was the problem. It was blind fear for Raeth and Ryder. Even though he hadn’t wanted me for over a year, I still loved him with every fiber of my being.
We can’t agree. She knows without them there’s no Triune.
We hadn’t announced that there hadn’t been one since Ryder’s exposure to the blue mist for morale reasons, along with the edge it gave us with Mandesa. Some edge.

The
youngster stood at attention, lifted his chin, and continued, “The queen declared she still has two nukes from the Great War. Agree or she’ll fire them. One’s pointed at us, the other at UE.”