Firestorm (7 page)

"Are you saying that the Volan could turn on us if his Mother Ship began to influence him again?" Raina took a step toward Teran, all her warrior's instincts once more at the ready.

"Yes, that's a distinct possibility," the king's ambassador admitted. "Though Rand insists he would fight the hive directives with all his might, now that he has come to realize their destructive intent, neither of us is certain whether he could resist them for long."

Raina fought the anger that swelled once again within her. "I don't like this. Don't like it at all."

"I must agree with the femina on this." Teague exhaled a long, considering breath. "This mission is danger-fraught enough, and now you say the Volan isn't to be trusted? You add more and more until you make it all but impossible for us to succeed."

"I never said this would be easy, Brother Tremayne. We seriously doubt, though, that the Volan Mother Ship's transmissions will be able to pierce Incendra's electromagnetic field. The planet sends out emissions that seem as neurologically disrupting as that of the special crystal we seek. In fact," Teran added, a worried frown plucking at his brow, "there are some studies being conducted right now that suggest the increased planetary electromagnetic radiation might even arise from those firestorm-guarded caves."

"And what might be the significance of that?"

The king's ambassador shrugged and shook his head. "We don't know. It might be of the greatest significance or not. One way or another, we haven't the time to hold up the mission awaiting results." He gestured toward the glowing biosphere. "Have you further questions of Rand?"

Teague shook his head. "No." He glanced at Raina. "Have you any questions, femina?"

Raina eyed the biosphere for a long moment, then shook her head. "No. But I reserve the right to question the Volan at a later time."

"You have that right and I'll gladly answer," Rand's voice rose, once more, out of the darkness. "The opportunity for all of us to get to know each other better will be ample during our journey."

"You possess an obsessive need to learn more about the humanoid species," Raina remarked, eyeing the biosphere suspiciously. "Why is that, Volan?"

A soft chuckle emanated from the communications device. "Not for any subversive reasons, to be sure. I simply wish ... to understand . . . your kind. You are a fascinatingly complex species. Yet in many ways, you are more like us than dissimilar." He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice seemed tinged with a wistful sadness. "It may sound unbelievable, but I hope to learn more of myself in learning more of you. And perhaps, in the learning, regain a part of me that has long been lost."

Raina stood there in the dimly lit room, momentarily overcome with the most bittersweet realization that this mission might not just be for the successful acquisition of a stone. It might well also be a mission of self-discovery and the fulfillment of personal goals. It certainly was for her, even if, in the fulfillment, others must die. It seemed to be one of the Volan's personal goals as well.

And the monk? He had secrets long buried, that much was certain. Whether he chose to examine them remained to be seen. Raina smiled. One way or another, the wisest course was to discover and remain cognizant of the personal agendas of all the players. It would give her the upper hand and assure the success of her own desires.

In the end, that was all that could ever be permitted to matter. She had learned that cycles ago. She must not allow anything else to come before it. Not if she wished to survive.

"A most admirable goal, Volan," Raina forced herself to reply. "If one can truly believe it."

"Only time will prove the truth, one way or another."

"Yes," she bitterly admitted. "Whatever that truth may really be."

***

Seven days later, all preparations complete, Teague stood in the transport chamber, awaiting Raina's arrival and final preparations for transport to the Volan spy ship. Rand, in his shielding receptacle now complete with compact communications device and life support system, hung from a carrying pack on the monk's back.

"This is quite an adventure we're embarking upon," the Volan commented, masking his excitement with difficulty. "I only wish I had a body so as to experience it in every way."

"Enjoy a torrid sun beating down, sucking every last bit of moisture from your body, do you?" Teague wryly inquired. "Or the frigid nights, or the choking desert dust that gets into everything, including your clothes and food? Not to mention the arduous journey on foot, so as not to call undue attention to our presence?"

"I am sorry." Rand's voice took on an apologetic tone. "I know you and the femina bear the brunt of the mission, especially the physical aspects. But after months confined to the narrow world of a room, even my limited participation in this mission is a welcome change."

Teague chuckled. "I didn't mean to berate you for your lack of participation. I suppose I just don't see this as an adventure. And be forewarned, neither does the femina."

"But you both return to your home planet after cycles of exile," Rand sounded puzzled. "Doesn't that at least please you?"

"I left for a reason," the monk tersely replied. "I've no wish to return, not now or ever."

"And Raina? How does she feel about it?"

"Why don't you ask her? Her reasons are her own, and none of my affair." With that, Teague reached over and flipped off the communications device, effectively silencing the increasingly inquisitive Volan. There was some comfort in the knowledge he could distance himself whenever he wished from at least one member of his party. Unfortunately, it was the least unsettling member of the two.

He shrugged out of the heavy pack that, besides Rand's special carrying case, included a month's supply of dehydrated food, a water purification system, a stunner, a blaster, two changes of typical Incendarian desert garb, a small mining pick and drill, and special shielded transport sacks for the stone. Rand's pack was entirely self-contained and included a power source and nutrient system sufficient for a good six months. He and Raina, on the other hand, if their foray on Incendra lasted longer than a month, would be forced to live off the land.

This was his last chance to back out of the expedition. Once on the Volan ship, there was no turning back. For a brief instant, Teague contemplated simply walking from the transport chamber and palace, never looking back until he'd traversed the Carus Mountains and reached Exsul. But no welcome would await him there. Abbot Leone had commanded that he cooperate with the king in whatever he wished.

A sense of futility swamped Teague, overwhelming in its intensity. There was no way out, no matter where he turned. And that, if nothing else, should reassure him that he truly was on the path he was destined for. Yet why did some part of him—the weak, cowardly part, to be sure—still fear this journey? Why couldn't he just . . . accept ... and find his dearly desired peace in that?

Yet that peace continued to elude him, no matter what formerly tried-and-true monastic rituals he performed. The memories of Incendra failed to fade this time. The horrors of that day, the shattering sense of betrayal and shame and failure he'd felt, returned again and again. And there seemed nothing—absolutely nothing—he could do to blot them out anymore.

It didn't help that thoughts of the Sodalitas he must join with kept creeping unbidden into his mind. He'd heard it said, even as a lad, that Incendarians were potent only with their own kind, that they were physically attracted solely to their planet's opposite sex. He wondered if that might possibly now be affecting his response to her.

Over the cycles, Teague had given little thought to the fact that, though he might find a particular female beautiful, he had never once felt the stirrings of desire. He had viewed it instead as a blessing in his particular calling. Then, he'd promptly forgotten about it.

Yet still the niggling worry ate at him. Though Abbot Leone had granted him a temporary dispensation from all his vows for the course of the mission, Teague now wondered if there had been a subtle message behind that surprising indulgence. Did the old monk know of the potential temptations that lay ahead? Had Teague, in effect, been given permission to break his vows without impunity?

The consideration angered him. Did the abbot seriously imagine that a fifth-level Grandmaster was so weak as to succumb to the sordid clamorings of the flesh, just because a particularly alluring female was forced upon him? The rest of the monks had fought the carnality inherent within all males—and they fought it every day of their life. He could do no less —- and still hope ever to feel worthy to stand among them again.

A sense of anticipation, of eagerness for the battles ahead filled him. He'd been spared such temptations all these cycles. Now, at long last, he would battle those as well. Battle them and prove, once and for all, that he truly had earned his rightful place—in every way—in the Brotherhood of Exsul. That he truly belonged somewhere in this vast cosmos. Not like on Incendra . . ." where all he'd ever been was an unworthy son and heir.

The portal of the transport chamber slid open. In walked King Falkan and Teran Ardane. A hush settled over the room.

Teague strode over to greet the two men, a fierce excitement pumping through his veins. It was all so clear now. Incendra beckoned, a land no longer just his home, but rather a testing place, a living cauldron of fire and pain wherein he would at long last fully die to himself and the world. Wherein, at long last, he'd be purified.

Wherein he'd finally be found worthy . . .

***

"What do you mean, you 'might not be coming back'?" Marissa demanded, as she waited for her friend to finish her final preparations before they departed her room for the transport chamber.

Raina looked up from the sheath she was strapping to her left thigh. She cocked her head, a bemused smile on her lips. "And exactly what about my statement didn't you understand?"

"The part about you telling me you might not return to Bellator once you and the monk retrieve the crystal, that's what!" The chestnut-haired woman strode over to confront her. "What in the heavens do you plan, Raina? You know the spy ship requires two pilots."

"No, it doesn't, actually." She finished fastening the sheath and slipped her prized Nadrygean dagger into it.

Light sparkled and shimmered off the fine, nearly indestructible metal as it slid within its molded jacket of black domare hide, filling Raina with a grim sense of possession. She'd worked long and hard to purchase such a weapon and now, at long last, it might serve her in the most soul-satisfying of ways.

She lifted her gaze to calmly meet Marissa's. "I learned a lot about that spy ship in the past few days. I learned one person can pilot it. The process is more difficult, but the Volan computers on board can be programmed to autopilot with just a bit of ingenuity. Long enough, at any rate, for the pilot to catch several hours' sleep from time to time. After all, the journey to Incendra, thanks to the speed of the new planetary drivers, takes only five days."

"Then why did Falkan insist on two pilots?"

Raina shrugged. "Most likely to assure a backup, not only in flight, but on Incendra as well. It was the wisest course, in case something happened to one of us. But on the return trip, the only issue is the flight itself."

"It still doesn't explain why you might not return."

Green eyes locked with blue. "It's all quite simple, sweeting. I mean to tie up some loose ends, ends left hanging for a very long time. Loose ends," Raina added grimly, "that I should've taken care of long ago."

Marissa's eyes narrowed. "You never mentioned that as a reason for going before. You mean to avenge yourself, don't you?"

"No, I didn't mention it before," Raina admitted matter-of-factly. "But the longer I thought about it, the more it began to appeal to me. My revenge is long overdue."

"Raina, you could die in the attempt. Malam Vorax alone will be a difficult man to kill, if you can even get close enough to do it. He's now ruler of Farsala, the most powerful kingdom on Incendra."

"I've spent the last fifteen cycles training as a warrior." Raina smiled bitterly. "And now, thanks to this Volan ship, I have the chance to return to Incendra. I've thought long and hard over this in the past days. It's my destiny, Marissa. I'm meant to go back not only for the sake of the Imperium, but for my own sake, too."

"But what of your life on Moraca?" her friend cried, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "What of the Sodalitas?"

"I've given my all to them and never once have I asked for anything in return. But now . . ."

Raina paused, searching for words to describe her feelings. For a fleeting instant, speech failed her. How could one ever explain the yearning, the hunger, the impotent anger that had seethed within her all this time, begging for its own chance for release? How could one make someone else —even Marissa— truly understand?

"But now," she finally forced herself to continue, "it's my time at last. The Sodalitas will just have to choose a new leader. They've done it before. They can do it again."

"And what of you, Raina?" Marissa pleaded. "Will you throw it all away? All the progress you've made, the successes you've achieved? For what? To make the lives—and deaths—of two already miserable men just a little more miserable? You are what counts, not them. Killing them won't heal you. Only you can do that."

"No, you are wrong in that," Raina quietly replied. "I cannot be fully whole again until they are dead. Malam Vorax and . . . my father."

With a fierce shake of her head, she flung the sudden swell of anguish aside. Yes, her father would die, too.

Neither he nor Vorax deserved to live after what each, in his own self-serving way, had done to her. Done to her then, and over and over again in her heart and soul for the past fifteen cycles. But now, just when they thought they were safe from retribution, she would return. Return . . . and avenge herself at last.

Raina smiled a savage, secret smile. The plan was sound, the decision firm. And the anticipation of the vengeance to come so very, very sweet . . .