Broken Vision (38 page)

She turned to Alerik.

His eyes held a terrible awareness. His gaze flicked beyond her.

She sensed movement, a displacement of air with no sound.

She turned. The movement seemed to take forever.

"Maegan." The voice haunted her darkest nightmares. "You always were able to resist me
when no one else could. I wish I could understand why, but there is no time."

A woman sauntered toward their Taragon hostess and paused at her side. Their dress was
identical. The shapes of the bald heads were a perfect match. The facial features were the same, set
apart only by the stamp of time on the older woman. Their relationship was unmistakable.

Everything and everyone else around Maegan faded into unimportance. Her entire being
became intently focused on mother and daughter. Here was the reason for all her doubts, her jittery
nerves, the foreboding that had stalked her to this time, this place. Odd, she felt no fear now, not
even an adrenalin rush, just an eerily calm waiting watchfulness.

"Mother." Nargune touched the hostess's shoulder. "Thank you for arranging this
convenient gathering. I have everyone I need. You will see my best work here."

Nargune had somehow immobilized the group, but her drug of choice had allowed
everyone to retain a full awareness. The utter terror etched on the face of the older Taragon woman
couldn't have been contrived. Her body strained and trembled as if with great effort. She rolled her
gaze at her daughter, fear and frantic pleading in her expression.

Beyond the greeting and single touch to her mother's shoulder, Nargune ignored her. She
focused her full attention on Maegan. The smile that crossed her face threaten to paralyze Maegan
with terrible, destructive memories. She fought desperately to hold them at bay.

"But first...Maegan Shale, lifemate to Alerik Mariltar," the sha-priestess said, "you must
die. You are a barrier between me and the power of the Mariltar men. Once I believed I could
capitalize on the extraordinary link between you and your mate, but time is running out. It is
simpler to destroy you."

Maegan struggled to follow Nargune's conversational tone. Lethargy claimed her limbs
and numbed her mind. Had her life been threatened? She couldn't seem to care.

Nargune strode toward her. In her hand, she carried a thin Taragon pikesword. The blade,
reflecting the sea of lights in the jungle surrounding them, glittered with a multitude of colors.
Pretty. Elegant. Deadly.

Death by stabbing then. Maegan wondered how much it would hurt.

Nargune slowed as she passed Alerik. With her peripheral vision, Maegan saw her run her
hand over Alerik's head and down his back.

"Such a magnificent man," she murmured. "Our children will be extraordinary."

Fire sizzled through Maegan's nerves. She exploded out of her seat.

Taken by surprise, Nargune fell back, but even as she fell, she slashed the pikesword
upwards.

Maegan spun away, but was a nanonan too late. The ice-cold blade sliced into her side.
Pain seared through her body. Too much pain. She stumbled.

With a blood-curdling scream, Nargune pulled back the sword, ready to strike again.

The academy had trained Maegan to fight as an elite warrior, but Morgon had taught his
niece to fight dirty. She drew back her foot and delivered a vicious kick to Nargune's knee.

The sha-priestess staggered back but didn't go down. With a shriek of rage, she drove
herself forward again, the glittering blade lifted for another strike.

Maegan blocked the next stroke of the sword, but tripped as her long gown tangled around
her legs. She wasn't fast enough with her block. The blade nicked her arm. Pain, far more intense
than should have been possible from such a small cut, crashed through her body. Gritting her teeth,
she attacked, driving Nargune back with a flurry of punches and kicks. She had little time before
blood loss weakened her, probably even less before the poison from the blade shut her body
down.

The sword sliced at her again and caught her, this time, on the thigh. More excruciating
pain. She almost fell.

Nargune lunged at her. With a double-handed grip, she swept the sword around from the
side.

This time, Maegan barely managed to dodge its strong, lethal arc. She pivoted and put all
her energy into a round kick, hoping to drive Nargune back to give herself some space.

Her foot connected with Nargune's belly. The sha-priestess flew backwards. She bounced
against the meager barrier at the edge of the platform, and made a desperate grab for the thin rail.
She slipped, missed, and went crashing through the jungle screen with a shriek. Her long, piercing
wail was abruptly silenced a nanonan later.

Exhausted, pain ripping through her body, Maegan collapsed. As her vision dimmed, she
saw the pikesword hurtling straight at her.

Margaine Confluence:/Fourth Rising
Pallas Five

Maegan wriggled her toes into the soft caress of the spongy ground. Her whole body was
bare and cradled in the comforting hold of The Lichs.

Alerik's face appeared above her. His eyes were a clear sapphire for the first time today,
unclouded by worry over her.

"Legend has it," he murmured, and tickled her nose with a tiny clinging vine, "The Lichs
have extraordinary healing powers."

"I'm already healed," she pointed out. Nargune's last desperate toss had missed her as she'd
sunk unconscious to the platform floor, but the wound in her side was deep and tainted by poison,
and had taken its time to heal. By the time the clinic had released her, she was ready to commit
mayhem on her entire fussing family.

"I'm not," he said. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me to sit powerless and
listen to that fight? I couldn't see most of it. I could only imagine what she was doing to you. I aged
rotations that night."

"She wanted children with you," Maegan remembered. "That made me really angry."

There was something else too. Something that teased at the edge of her memory.

Nargune's death had been confirmed. She was no longer a threat. Why then, did this sense
of unease still beset her at odd moments?

"There must be something about the Earth gene," Alerik mused. "When my mother was
taken by a Soron priest years ago, he couldn't completely control her either."

"That's it!" Maegan shot up, forcing Alerik back on his elbow.

"That's what?"

"Fires of Crillac!" Her heart was racing.

"Breathe, my love."

Alerik's hand on the back of her neck calmed her. She gulped in several deep breaths.

"Her father took your mother."

Alerik stilled. "What?"

"That's what she said in the temple. Her father took your mother."

"Blood of Cor." Alerik's voice was hoarse. "An alliance of Taragon and Soron priests? If
ever there was an unholy union, that's it."

"What if there are more?"

"Intelligence reports things are calm for now. There is no activity on The Divide. The
temples on Taragon have been inspected. As soon as we return, I'll report this to the Coalition
Council. We'll have to look at everything with new eyes. In all its history, Taragon has never held
an alliance."

Maegan lay back as the ground reached up to embrace her again. Soothing strokes
undulated along her back. "What if the nationality is immaterial? How many of the nine nations
claim clans of priests?"

"A good question and one that I can't answer. There's much secrecy that surrounds some of
these sects. Too much."

He leaned over her again. "We can't solve the problems of the galaxy here and now, my
love. We can only solve our own."

"We have problems? Alerik?" Maegan reached up and smoothed her hand down his face.
"Why are we back on Pallas Five?"

His eyes turned smoky and he turned his head to kiss her fingers. "The Grogon Asteroid
Belt needed a governor. Morgon refused it."

"There are others who qualify."

"Yes, but I like it here. I have a mandate to continue my council committee work, and can
do it here just as well as on Magnilium."

He dropped a light kiss on her lips. "It's a good place to raise a family."

"The miniature Alerik project?" The rhythms of her body responded with a surge of
excitement. The timing felt right.

"I'm ready. Are you?"

"What if we get a miniature Maegan?"

"Great Sagar be merciful to us all."

He moved over her.

J. A. Clarke grew up in Africa where weekly trips to the library were the main
entertainment event of the week. Although she's traveled on four continents and loves learning
about other cultures, she is now firmly grounded in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. With her
husband, two sons and dog pack in tow, she enjoys exploring the fabulous scenic treasures of the
area. Someday, it is her fond hope, she will take her family on a grand adventure in Africa.

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