Firestorm (30 page)

"The Imperium has more warrior monks. It also has men the caliber of Teran Ardane and his brother to draw upon. But I'm. the only crown prince of Farsala."

His hand settled on her shoulder, then slid down to gently stroke her back. "I must do this, sweet one. I failed so long ago. Failed my family, my people, myself. Despite all I've achieved all I've done to serve the Imperium, deep in my heart, I've still felt so unworthy . . . ever since that day Vorax marched into Ksathra. Always felt that I'd failed my father . . ."

He dragged in a shuddering breath. "But no more. If I join with Bahir, if I fight with him against Vorax, I'll have finally redeemed myself in his memory. He always wanted me to be a warrior. I'll be the one he wanted me to be at last, in defense of Farsala, our home."

"And die in his memory, too," Raina added bitterly. "For all he would care. If he didn't accept you as a boy, as his son and heir, he and his cursed memory aren't worthy of you now. Yet you'll sacrifice your life in the memory of a man who was never a worthy father to you."

"Just as you've sacrificed yours because of what Vorax did to you?"

Yes, she thought, and in the memory of the man who was never a worthy father to me.

Tears filled Raina's eyes. Will you throw it all away? Marissa had once asked her. Killing them won't heal you. Only you can do that.

Raina knew now that even their deaths wouldn't heal her. Her father was already gone, pitiful, tormented man that he'd been, and the pain of his rejection and betrayal was no less acute.

Pitiful ... A sad smile twisted her mouth. Pitiful . . . not hated. Not anymore.

He was to be pitied, not hated, for he was never able to summon the courage to overcome his weaknesses. To stand up for his brutalized daughter, to love her enough to fight for her honor, much less care enough even to be outraged. But she wouldn't sacrifice what was left of her life and happiness because of him anymore.

Strangely, even the hunger to avenge herself on Malam Vorax had paled. Raina pondered that new revelation, wondering when that seething rage against him had eased. It had happened sometime in the past weeks, as she'd come to know and love Teague. Perhaps it was because Teague had, in a sense, returned what Vorax had taken—her self-esteem as a woman, the power over her own body to give it as she chose.

Or perhaps it was something else altogether. She hated Vorax, would never forgive him for what he'd done, but there were more important issues in her life now. She hadn't time to allow herself to sink into the seductive and ultimately destructive quagmire of hatred and unrequited need for revenge. She had a mission of Imperium-wide import to carry out—and a man whom she loved to live and fight for.

Yet the cruelest irony of it all was that just when she'd finally been able to free herself of the cycles of seething hatred and anger and opened herself to love once more, that love, and the man who had revealed it to her, might soon be lost. It didn't seem fair. It wasn't fair.

"Not anymore," she whispered, in answer to his challenge. "I won't sacrifice my life anymore. I love you, Teague. I want to spend my life with you, no matter where it is or what the conditions. But you have to come back with me to do that. It's the only way we can be together."

The words, spoken with such tender conviction, were like talons stabbing into Teague's heart. She loved him? Gods, never in his wildest dreams had he entertained the hope that Raina would come to love him! He was hardly worthy of redemption for all his past blunders. And never, ever, worthy of her love.

Her sweet admission thrilled him nonetheless. Almost from the start, he'd felt her to be a kindred spirit. Almost from the start, he'd sensed her compassion for him, her concern, her caring. And it had felt so very, very good. Until now, Teague hadn't fully realized how lonely he'd been, or how he'd longed for that sense of soul-deep union with another.

But that longing now warred with duty—a duty to Farsala and to Incendra that overshadowed his freshly roused and most elemental of human needs.

One's petty concerns are as naught. One's fears are groundless. All that matters is the unceasing flow of the universe.

The Litany of Union. Its sacred healing words flowed over Teague, stirring him once more to the deepest recesses of his being. They spoke of a greater truth, a higher calling, yet this time not to the tenets of monasticism, but to the needs of living beings. And in light of those holy words, his own needs, even to his very existence, meant nothing. As he'd once wholeheartedly served the Imperium, it was now time to serve Farsala and Incendra. And in the process, think of Raina as well.

"I say again," Teague forced himself to reply, his heart ripping asunder to spill out all his pain and regret even as he spoke. "You must return to Bellator with the crystal. I must remain here. Never forget that we came back to do our duty, a duty that will finally near its culmination on the morrow. But as your duty is to return to Bellator, mine is now to stay behind. That is all that matters. That is all, in the end, that can ever matter."

He released her then to lie there, physically distancing himself even as he verbally cut the fragile bonds that had so recently bound them. "Though I deeply appreciate your kind words to me," Teague whispered hoarsely, achingly, into the heavy stillness of the night, "love has never been part of the bargain between us. Not now, nor can it ever be."

Nineteen

An inferno of great size and force ascended toward the heavens, blazing before a series of huge, cavernous openings in the base of the mountain. Fed by strong, inrushing winds from all sides, the firestorm roared like a mighty, enraged beast, scorching all plant life from the area and setting pools of molten rock to shimmer in the light of the rising sun.

It was a terrifying sight, a sight intensified by the crimson and gold rays of the sunrise inundating the land, until not only the mountain and caves but the world around them appeared set afire, and it seemed they were the only beings left on the planet. Those strange, disembodied feelings, Teague thought, gazing up at the towering inferno, hadn't changed from the days of his youth. The firestorm caves still held an awful power and fascination, were an awesome symbol of Incendra and its harsh and volatile history.

He glanced at Raina. Her gaze, guarded and unreadable, met his. She'd said not another word to him after he'd flatly told her last night there was no hope for them or their love. She'd just pulled back from him, turned on her side, and lain there until exhaustion had finally claimed them both.

And she wouldn't say anything more. Raina was proud; she'd never beg him for his love.

Teague turned to Bahir, who stood on his other side, along with Aban. Bahir's big, burly compatriot had insisted on coming along. Teague wondered if his motivation arose from a desire to protect Bahir from them or from a quite understandable concern that his leader not overwork himself. "Let's get on with this expedition, shall we?" he growled, motioning to the mountain that loomed before them.

The Tuaret leader smiled thinly. "A wise plan." He lifted his arm, indicating a particularly steep and winding path high on the mountainside. "That's where we must go."

If Bahir hadn't pointed it out, Teague would never have noticed it, as well hidden as it was among the rocks and scraggly vegetation. "Come," Bahir said. "The beginning of the trail is several kilometers down from the caves."

They followed him without comment and soon reached the trailhead. The trek up the mountain was strenuous. However, Bahir maintained a strong, steady pace and by midmorn, they'd reached a small, boulder-strewn ridge about a third of the way up the mountainside.

Bahir led them to a large stand of rocks, climbed over the top, and disappeared. Raina and Teague exchanged a puzzled look with Aban. A few minutes later, Bahir appeared once more.

"Are you coming or not? The crawl space lies behind these boulders."

Teague, Raina, and Aban scrambled up the rock pile to join the Tuaret. Next to his left foot was a black hole big enough for a man with supplies to slide through. Warm, musty air spewed from the opening, rife with ancient smells and decay.

"How tight is this crawl space?" Teague asked. "I'm not particularly fond of holes in the ground especially narrow ones."

"Neither am I," Bahir admitted "though when I was a lad this hole seemed quite large. It goes on like this for about five meters, then opens into a quite adequate tunnel for the rest of the way into the caves. Can you manage it for five meters?"

"If I have to," Teague muttered. He gestured to the hole. "Why don't you lead the way?"

Bahir nodded then shed his headcloth, cloak, and long tunic. Aban did the same. Clothed only in their breeches, short under tunics and boots, they shoved their curved daggers beneath their belts. Then Bahir flipped on a perpetual light torch and dropping to his knees, climbed into the crawl space. As Aban followed suit, Raina and Teague quickly removed their outer, more cumbersome clothing, shouldered their backpacks—one of which contained Rand's metal shielding receptacle— illuminated their torches, and followed.

True to Bahir's word the crawl space did open to a quite adequate tunnel where they could stand in but five meters. The journey back toward the firestorm caves took nearly as long as the trek up the trail to the crawl space. By Teague's calculations, it was midday by the time they reached the first of the myriad caves.

The torch beams reflected off the walls of crystaline rock, sending blinding shards of light ricocheting into their eyes if the perpetual light torches weren't angled properly. Teague paused slung his pack off his back, and extracted Rand's shielding receptacle. Bahir walked over.

"Time for the Volan to perform, is it?" the Tuaret inquired.

Teague flipped open the latches of the shielding receptacle, opened the box, and pulled out a membranous sphere about the size of a human head. Attached to the sphere's top was a set of three tubes. As Teague moved the sphere slightly in taking it from the box, a green luminescence suddenly appeared inside it.

"What's that?" Bahir asked suspiciously.

"Nothing more than life forms within the biosphere that help maintain the Volan spirit entities. I disturbed them when I jostled the sphere." Teague looked down at the now glowing globe. "Can you hear me, Rand?"

"Yes, Teague. We're within the caves, aren't we?"

"In the first crystaline cave, to be exact. Feel any unusual resonance within this chamber?"

"No."

Teague glanced at Bahir. "Well, let's get on with it, then. If memory serves, there are over twenty caves within this part of the mountain behind the firestorms."

"Twenty-three," the Tuaret corrected him. "I've counted and explored them all."

"I only hope you remember the way back through them all," Raina muttered, speaking up for the first time since they'd entered the crawl space.

Bahir shot her a wry grin. "So do I, mirah. So do I."

Raina gave a disgusted snort. "Well, it's your life and Aban's if you don't. We still have the protective clothing to get us through the firestorms. You two, on the other hand, might be relegated to wandering the caves for the rest of your days, until you finally die of thirst or go mad."

"A fate," he drawled, unperturbed by her grisly tale, "I'd wager you wouldn't shed a single tear over."

She finally smiled, a grim, tight upturning of the corners of her mouth. "I wouldn't wish that on Aban, but as far as you go, you'd win that wager hands down."

"Er, shall we get on with this?" Teague growled irritably. "You two have all the time in the world to continue this pleasant little conversation later. I, for one, have no inclination to remain within these caves any longer than necessary."

Bahir cocked a dark brow, then shrugged and set off across the cave toward the tunnel leading to the next chamber. They spent the next two hours traversing a total of sixteen rooms, the temperature gradually rising as they drew nearer and nearer to the firestorms blazing outside. The air grew stifling. Moisture, seeping through the mountain, wept from the ceilings. The clothing soon clung to their bodies in a mixture of dripping water and sweat.

Then, when they entered the seventeenth cavern, a chamber even hotter than the last, Rand suddenly groaned. Teague looked down at the biosphere. The green luminescence swirled wildly, as if suddenly agitated.

"What's wrong, Rand?"

"Th-the vibrations. They p-pain me. I-I can hardly think."

Teague swung his torch up and around the room. Irregular chunks of crimson crystals, piercing in their brilliance, lined the walls. Stalagmites thrust from the floor in this particular room, lending it its otherworldly feel. Though the stone was similar in appearance to many other rooms they'd traversed the luster of the crystal was slightly different—more shimmering, and of a richer, deeper color and greater fire. A fire that seemed, when the torch light struck it just right, to mirror the leaping tongues of the firestorm that had so long guarded it.

"Is this the first time you've felt the pain and vibrations?" Teague asked. Raina stepped close to listen.

"Y-yes," Rand gasped. "This is the correct crystal, my friend. How long must I . . . remain exposed to it?"

"Not much longer." Teague could only guess what the high-frequency vibrations the correct crystal sent out were doing to the Volan. "A minute or two more, just to identify accurately which areas are truly the resonating crystal and which are not. This room could easily contain more than one form."

"I-I understand. Just hurry. There's something unusual about this stone. Almost as if ... as if it's malevolent."

Unease filled Teague. Malevolent? A stone? But why not? The Knowing Crystal was reputed to be evil, for all the tales of its wondrous powers. It was why Teran's brother, Brace Ardane, had finally been forced to destroy it in the pools of Cambrai. But surely an unworked crystal from an entirely different source couldn't possess the sentient abilities of that former stone of power. Or could it?

It didn't matter. Their task was to bring some of the Incendarian stone back to Bellator. Others could determine later what its true properties were and how to utilize it.

Teague headed toward the nearest stand of stalagmites, in themselves a rich store of crystal if they were indeed of the proper kind. He held out Rand's biosphere to them. "Is this the right kind?" he asked.

"Y-yes," Rand groaned.

Forcing himself to ignore the Volan's pain, Teague moved off to another stand of stalagmites. The entire success of the mission hinged on them bringing back an adequate supply of the crystal. "And these?"

"Y-yes. Yes!"

The Volan's voice strained with anguish. Teague clamped down on his surge of compassion and forced himself to stride toward the nearest wall. Great chunks of gleaming crystal protruded from the wall in a rich mass of misshapen stone. "And these, Rand. What of these?" he asked strangely compelled now to continue to search out more and more stone.

"The same," he whispered. "Teague ... I can't . . . bear it . . . much longer."

Not true, a tiny voice inside Teague's head cried. The Volan could bear that and more. He wheeled intent on examining yet another wall, when a strong grip settled on his arm. "Put him away, Tremayne," Bahir commanded his angry amber gaze knifing into his. "Now, before you kill him."

"Yes," Raina called from the farthest stalagmite as she dug the mining tools out of her pack. She stared back at him, puzzled and concerned. "You've identified more than we can carry back out or need. Put Rand away."

As if snapping out of a trance, Teague opened the lid of the shielding receptacle and shoved the biosphere back within it. He slammed the lid shut and refastened the latches.

Bahir released him. "What did you intend? To take the Volan to his furthest limits and beyond?"

Bemused by the anger in the other man's voice, Teague stared back at him. "I don't understand. It was Rand's job to identify the stone. I but used him to—"

The Tuaret shot him a wary, considering look, then sighed. "Never mind. He's well protected inside that box, isn't he?"

Teague glanced down at the shielding receptacle. "Yes." He paused. "Are you all right, Rand?"

"Better," the Volan whispered. "Teague, there's something wrong with this stone. It not only . . . has terrible resonating qualities . . . but it can kill. It was trying to kill me."

"Are you certain, Rand?" Raina walked over. "The intensity of its vibrations against your neural network may have seemed like it was more vicious than it truly was. Your perceptions might well have been so disrupted that it seemed—" .

"Perhaps, femina," the Volan gently interrupted. "Perhaps. But I don't think so."

"Well, that isn't an issue we can resolve here," Teague said. "Let the scientists delve into all this deeper. We've got a lot of work ahead of us, and I'd like to be off that treacherous mountain trail and back in camp before nightfall."

Raina eyed him closely, then nodded. "Yes, so would I." She turned and walked back to where her pack lay. Picking up a hand held laser stone-cutting device, she turned it on and went to work on the nearest stalagmite.

Teague watched her for a moment. Then, setting down Rand's shielding receptacle, he dug out another stone-cutting tool from his backpack. He glanced back at Bahir. "There's a lot of stone to cut. Do you think you and Aban could help by loading the crystal into the transport sacks?"

The Tuaret nodded. "Most certainly." Teague made a move to turn and walk away. "Tremayne?"

Teague paused. He glanced back. "Yes?"

"I-I beg pardon for doubting you and your mission."

Concern darkened the Tuaret's eyes. "Your words about the Volan were true as well. I think, though, that there is more, far more to this, than even you and your compatriots on Bellator yet realize. But I do believe you now." He paused as if suddenly at a loss for words. "I just wanted you to know."

"And do you finally understand," Teague asked, "why it's vital that we take the stone back to Bellator?"

"Yes." Bahir nodded, his brow furrowing in thought. "I see now that the Imperium needs you even more than Farsala or Incendra. Because of that, I can no longer in good conscience keep you here against your will. No matter what I want, what I believe."

Teague looked deeply into Bahir's eyes and saw his sincerity. Saw his regret, as well, for a cause lost. Saw the courage it took for a man to relinquish his dreams for the sake of many. The very last dream Bahir had to cling to in the waning days of his life.

Sadness welled within him. Sadness, and a profound respect. Misguided and exasperatingly single-minded as Bahir was at times, he lived by his own set of unwavering principles. He would die by those same principles, too.