Crystal Fire (2 page)

Why did he persist in holding out? He must be mad . . .

Mad
.

Ah, the doubts, the abject fear that word evoked! Terror shuddered through Brace. With a fierce shake of his head, he flung the feeling aside. Gods, he mustn't allow it to take hold! Yet
wasn't
he mad, to fight such a losing battle?

The shimmering specter of madness was with Brace constantly now. The familial curse of House Ardanethat erratic scourge of insanity that had taken the life of his father when he was but a ladhad finally found him as well. It held more substance than the teachings of the old white robe, Vates, benevolent mentor to him and Teran. It held more reality than his years at the Imperial Academy, where Brace had eagerly gone to join his older brother when he'd finally come of age. It held more credence than the pride and honor inculcated there, the strict military obedience and unthinking disciplinetenets that had ultimately clashed headlong with those of their old teacher . . .

And now? Now he was incarcerated in an impregnable Bellatorian fortress, condemned to life imprisonment unless he recanted everything Vates had raised him to revere. It would be so simple, so easy to say the words, to lie and regain his freedom. Yet he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Bitter despair welled in the depths of Brace's heart. He must indeed be mad . . .

Movement caught the corner of his vision. He glanced toward Mardoc. The man rose, a cruel, familiar gleam in his eyes. Brace swallowed hard against the swell of dread.

"You're as stubborn as an elephas," his jailer growled. Mardoc's fingers entwined in Brace's dark, shaggy mane, then tightened. Brace inhaled a shuddering breath. Ever so slowly, Mardoc pulled him back to his knees.

"Time for further convincing, is it?" With a sharp tug, he jerked Brace halfway to his feet, than rammed a fist deep into his abdomen.

Bright, burning agony engulfed him, his gut twisting, knotting around the blow. Brace heard himself, from deep inside a spiraling well, grunting out his distress. Then his legs went limp and he slumped, suspended in air by the powerful hand so cruelly gripping his hair.

The hand shook him and he flopped like a rag in the wind.

"Recant, Ardane!" Mardoc's voice demanded through the blur of sounds rushing through his head. "Recant and the pain will end!"

Recant. How hard could it be to open his mouth and speak the words? There was nothing left worth fighting for. No family, no friends. He was alone.

Alone.

Tell him
, a tiny voice screamed.
Tell him what he wants to hear. Nothing is worth suffering such torment for. Nothing is more important than survival. Nothing
 . . .

Again the pain smashed into him, splintering into layers upon layers of reverberating agony. He sought refuge in the blessed swell of darkness but it wavered, then slid away. Gods, he couldn't take any more!

I'll tell
, he cried silently,
I'll recant. Anything. Just don't hit me again
.

Brace tried to speak, but the sounds would not come. Something deep within his throat blocked them. The word
coward
formed in his mind, growing in force until it echoed through his skull.

Shame flooded him. Was there
nothing
left then? No pride, no honorno hope?

His heart pounded, clouds of darkness, then light, swam before his eyes. Brace swallowed hard, frantically. He
must
say the words. Now, before it was too late. Before . . .

Again Mardoc's fist connected brutally with Brace's gut. With a great whoosh of air, Brace fell forward.

Suddenly the pain was gone. Reality was now a place of pristine sweetness and gentle voices. It beckoned from just ahead. But was it the blessed oblivion of unconsciousnessor the more terrifying seduction of madness?

It didn't matter. Brace moved toward it with desperate abandon. There was truly nothingon this world or beyondworth remaining behind for . . .

Marissa nearly lost her grip as she pinched her nose against the Simian's foul stench. With a frustrated curse she gave up the attempt. Her fingers tightened once more in the greasy, matted fur of the huge alien who was methodically scaling the fortress's outer wall with Marissa on his back.

By the Crystal Fires! she thought in exasperation. For as much as she was paying him, he could at least have taken a bath!

She tried holding her breath in an effort not to inhale the Simian's rank odor. It only prolonged the inevitable. Marissa gagged when she was finally forced to breathe.

Things were
definitely
not going as planned. The task of discovering who Brace Ardane was had been relatively simple. The warrior planet of Bellator, by force of sheer military might, was the ruling planet of the Imperium. And everyone seemed to know the tale of Brace Ardane's defiance of Bellator's High Kingand of his sentencing.

It had been relatively easy to discover Ardane's whereabouts, too. The problems began when Marissa learned he was in a Bellatorian prison out in the Vastare wastes. The fortress was said to be impregnable.

The tales had been quite accurate, Marissa thought with grim irony. She had discovered that disheartening fact shortly after transporting across space from Moraca to Bellator. Disheartening indeed . . .

At that moment the Simian's hold slipped. They dangled by one gangly arm for what seemed an eternity before he swung back and reestablished his grip. Marissa's eyes clenched shut after one quick glance below. Jagged rocks, interspersed with long, sharp stakes, lined the dry moat that surrounded the fortress. Suspended several hundred meters above the ground as they were, their impact, if they fell, would be agonizingand fatal.

But there'd been no other choice. Careful study had revealed no way in save for the main entrance, and that required the use of hand imprinting. She'd tried getting one of the fortress guards drunk in the hopes of using his imprint to get her inside. The disgusting male had swilled a small fortune in Moracan ale, then passed out just short of the fortress.

Marissa had been forced to hire a Simian, the only being conveniently available capable of scaling the walls. Unfortunately, the highly intelligent, apelike species didn't come cheap. Her stash of imperials had dwindled to half by the time she'd paid for the guard's ale and the Simian's exorbitant fee.

That was yet another problem, once Marissa managed to get Ardane out of the fortress. She wasn't certain how long his gratitude for rescuing him would last. In the event it faded quickly, the money was to have been the added incentive. But her rapidly decreasing stash was losing much bargaining power.

Well, one thing at a time, Marissa consoled herself. She could always lie and promise him more later. And if force was necessary to "convince" this Ardane, so be it. She was quite competent in Empty Hand combat and the Simian's contract included the potential of strong-arm tactics. One way or another, Brace Ardane was coming with her.

At long last they reached the parapet and swung over onto the catwalk. A quick scan assured Marissa the sentry had yet to approach on his rounds. She settled the thick coil of rope they'd use for their escape more comfortably across her chest, then motioned toward the nearest tower. The Simian followed.

The imperials spent on the fortress guard hadn't been completely wasted. She
had
managed to glean the exact location of Ardane's cell from the male, and the safest means to approach it. Marissa now used this information to slip through the fortress and down into its subterranean depths.

The dank, dimly lit corridor outside the underground cells was eerily silent. For a horrible instant, Marissa wondered if the male she sought so determinedly was even alive. No one she'd questioned could say for certain, and it
had
been two cycles. What would she do if he were dead?

She knew who had Candra. The servants' descriptions of the abductors, combined with the Imperial Security Service's video files, had quickly identified the leader as the master criminal Ferox. Everyone on Moraca knew of that vile killer. Barely four cycles ago he and his army of renegades had invaded the capital and slaughtered over half the residents. The remaining half Ferox sold into slavery. The locals had yet to recover from the disaster. But why had he taken Candra? The malevolent illogic of the act haunted Marissa. She had tried, time and again, to reestablish the psychic link with her sister, but each attempt had failed. For some reason, Candra was purposely choosing not to commune. It was the only answer. Candra couldn't possibly be dead.

As expected, the cell that was supposedly Ardane's was locked, the solid door of robur wood secured by a mechanism opened only by a key control. Marissa destroyed it with a hand laser she'd acquired for the purpose. Leaving the Simian outside to keep watch, she slowly shoved open the massive door.

Recessed lighting high on the walls dimly illuminated the cell. Marissa pulled a small light beam out of her tunic pocket and used it to more thoroughly scan the room. She found him lying face down on a crude cot, dressed only in breeches and boots, one arm dangling limply to the floor.

As Marissa crept toward him, he moaned, attempted to lift himself, then slumped back to the cot. Marissa frowned. What was wrong with the male?

She halted a few meters from him. "Ardane? Brace Ardane?" she whispered.

Brace fought to rise through his pain-bewildered haze. He could have sworn he'd heard a femina's voice calling his name. Gods, now, on top of it all, he was hallucinating!

"Brace? Brace Ardane?"

Curse it, there it was again! Had yet another tormentor arrived to torture him? Two sols' reprieve since the last beating had been more than he'd dared hope for. But, perhaps, if he confronted the voice . . .

Brace inhaled a ragged breath. ''G-go away," he groaned. "Haven't you done. . . . enough?"

"Are you Brace Ardane?" Marissa persisted.

"By the f-five moons of Bellator!"

With a superhuman effort, Brace rolled over and shoved himself to one elbow. Behind the beam of light pointed at him he could barely discern a slender form.

He blinked hard in the sudden brightness. She remained. Inexplicably, it angered him. He much preferred her as a hallucination.

"Yes, c-curse you," he rasped. "I'm Brace Ardane. Now leave me . . . alone!"

Marissa sucked in a breath. Dark brown eyes, bloodshot and swollen, stared out of a pale face nearly unrecognizable in its bruised and bloated condition. One eyebrow was a clotted gash. His nose was broken.

Her gaze lifted briefly to long, black, unkempt hair before again lowering to Ardane's face. A ragged mustache and beard covered his upper lip and jaw, and dried blood caked his mouth. When he moved again to ease his awkward position, he grimaced and clutched at his abdomen.

Marissa's eyes swung to his torso. Large, purpling bruises covered his ribs and abdomen, the marks spread like so many continents upon a huge map. By all that was sacred! Ardane had been beaten brutallyperhaps fatally so! All Marissa's hopes took a sharp, sickening plunge. She hadn't expected him to be in prime physical condition after two cycles in prison, but this? How was she going to get him out now? And what if he died in the attempt?

She moved to the cot and knelt beside him. "I am not here to harm you, but to rescue you. Will you come with me?"

"R-rescue me?" Brace blinked in confusion. "What are you . . . talking about? There's no way out of this prison . . . unless you plan to march out the front door. You're mad!"

"No," Marissa soothed, worried he might alert the guards in his rising agitation. "We'll leave by the walls, not the front door."

She made a quick decision. "I brought a Simian to carry you down. I ask again; will you come with me?"

His swollen eyes narrowed to glittering slits. "And why do you want . . . to help me? Who are you, anyway?"

"My name is Marissa Laomede, of the planet Moraca. I need your warrior's skills in rescuing my sister. I can pay."

"P-pay?" Brace gave a strangled laugh, then stiffened in pain. "Gods!"

He glanced back up at her. She was dressed in a dark brown domare-hide jerkin, tan tunic and breeches, and tall, knee-high boots. A long, sheathed dagger was strapped to her right thigh, a thick coil of rope looped across her chest.

A mercenary warrior woman, Brace thought blearily, no doubt intent on using him for some harebrained quest. Well, two could play that game.

"As if I wouldn't pay
you
 . . . to get me out of here," he croaked.

Relief filled her. "Then you agree? You'll help me find my sister?"

Brace nodded, the movement setting his head to pounding. "Yes, I'll help you. It's a small price to pay . . . for my freedom."

He paused to scan the room. "Where's this . . . Simian . . . of yours?"

Marissa gestured toward the door. "Outside. I'll get him."

She found the Simian squatted against the corridor wall, leaning forward on his long arms in a position of repose. Irritation surged through her. How in the heavens was he supposed to be prepared for the unexpected when he was all but asleep? Her question was answered by his immediate, agile leap to his feet.

"Our plans have changed," Marissa said, losing no time in getting to the point. "Ardane's too weak to climb down the rope on his own. You'll have to carry him."

The Simian replied with several quick hand motions.

Marissa made an exasperated sound. "I
know
that wasn't part of the original deal, but it can't be helped. Surely your strength is up to it."

Rapid hand movements again answered her, this time accompanied by a sly smile.

Fury flared in Marissa's blue-green eyes. "Why, you slime-ridden Arborian maladroit! How dare you demand more money after the outrageous sum you've already managed to extract from me? You're asking for nearly every imperial I possess!"

Her hairy companion shrugged casually, then gave a few more hand signals.

"T-take it or l-leave it?" Marissa choked.

She made a move toward the stunner in her pocket, then froze at the sharp warning in the Simian's eyes. Her hand fell away. Stunner or no, she hadn't a chance against the creature's superior strength and reflexes. And, as costly as he was, he was now Ardane's only means of escape. By the Crystal Fires, if it weren't for her sister she'd gladly leave that troublesome Bellatorian where he lay!