Heart Thief (36 page)

A rumpling purr came from near her right foot, and she lifted her head. At the end of her bed Samba sat on a—tray? “What? Where?” She was stupefied.

“Welcome to the sick bay of
Nuada's Sword,
” Ruis said, making no sense at all.

“What?”

“Pppprrrrrrruuuuuup,” Samba rumbled as if coaxing.

Ailim peeked at the Fam cat again. Samba's whiskers twitched.
You in Our home. Ship!

“Ship?”

Trembling started from inside her body and spread until Ruis pressed her against him again.

“
Nuada's Sword?
” she asked, certain she'd misunderstood the cat's mutterings.

“That's right.” Ruis's low voice soothed her.

She braced herself. “You're living in
Nuada's Sword?
”

He nodded.

Ailim licked her lips. Ruis got a metal tumbler from the tray and handed it to her.

Of course she'd seen goblets made of precious metals, but nothing this utilitarian. It was cold in her hand. She looked inside, then back up at Ruis. “Water?” Her voice was still husky from all the dust.

“Yes.”

She gulped it. Coolness slid down her throat with such soothing freshness that after she swallowed she let out a moan of delight.

She looked around—even though it was obvious that this was a place unlike any she'd ever seen, she still found it difficult to believe Ruis was actually living in the starship. She pressed the tumbler to her forehead as if the cold would penetrate her skull and stimulate logical thought, and enjoyed the beaded dampness of condensation.

“
Nuada's Sword,
” she whispered again. “Isn't there supposed to be a curse that drives a person mad if they spend more than a couple of hours here?”

Ruis's lips twitched. He lifted her to a full sitting position and dropped his arm from around her. She missed it.

“That's what they say,” he said. He turned and stared over her head. She craned to see an indicator panel behind her. It appeared a lot like a Healing Chart.

“You'll do.” His smile looked strained. He took a step back to a chair, sat down, sank his head into his hands, and threaded his fingers through his thick mahogany hair. “Lord and Lady, you scared me,” he mumbled. “I didn't know what had happened to you or what to do.”

“You are living on the Ship,
Nuada's Sword
,” Ailim said carefully.

“Yesssssss,” hissed Samba, bobbing her head, then lifting her nose in smug superiority.
I am Ship's Cat.

She put the water down to rub her eyes. “Despite the fact that
Nuada's Sword
is on the cliffs on the very edge of the city, technically, you're living in Druida. If you were found here—” She couldn't go on. This was madness.

Ruis raised his head. “I didn't know Ship had sedated you and started the Healing program—”

“The patient GrandLady D'SilverFir is recovering nicely,” said a deep voice from thin air that ruffled the hair on the back of her neck.

Samba sniffed.
That is Ship. We fixed it. Broke curse.

“Ship,” Ailim said weakly. She looked around again. Perhaps if she looked long enough, observed everything thoroughly, she would be able to think rationally.

“A simple matter of subsonics,” said the Ship.

Ailim wasn't sure what subsonics were, but with one more scan of the room, everything fell into place, Ruis's words about his passion, his skill in fixing ancient artifacts.

“You're rehabilitating the Ship?” Her mouth wanted to fall open in blank wonder.

Ruis stood and walked back to her raised bed. “That's right. Now you know all my secrets.” His smile didn't touch his anxious eyes.

She reached out both hands to him, noticing that they appeared clean while the rest of him was dirty. It didn't matter, she needed his touch. “Please, Ruis,” she said when he hesitated, “come to me. Help me understand.”

Samba snorted and jumped down from the metal tray, leaving it vibrating. She stalked to the door.
You slllooooowwww
.

Ailim winced.

The door slid open to the side, and Ailim felt her eyes widen even more. Samba exited, tail up.

Ruis remained beyond her outstretched hand. He put his fists on his hips and frowned. “I want you to stay here tonight.”

“It is recommended the patient D'SilverFir stay for observation,” the Ship said.

Ailim stared at her bare feet, which were getting cold. She shook her head in disbelief. “What did it do to me?”

Ruis's smile was lopsided. “I don't quite know. I'm sure it would explain everything in excruciating detail if you asked.”

Ailim winced, then sighed. “Don't say ‘excruciating,' please.”

He took the final pace to her side, his hand curved around her face. “I don't know what happened. I just know that the whole mess was too risky for my blood.”

Ailim raised her eyebrows and shook her head again. “I can't believe that's true. You are the most reckless man—”

He stopped her words, her entire train of thought, with his firm lips on her mouth. She moaned again and leaned into him, bringing her hands to his shoulders so he wouldn't escape her again. She needed him. Badly. Now.

When he looked up, his pupils had dilated and his expression was one of stark hunger. “I was so afraid.” He brushed little kisses all over her face, then buried his face in her neck.

Tears tightened her throat at his emotion, his ability to express it, to be free with his feelings in front of her. “You saved me again,” she said huskily.

Raising his head, he tapped her chin with his index finger. “You could have saved yourself.”

“Maybe.”

“You would have tried.”

She met his eyes steadily. “Yes.”

He smiled. “We're fighters, both of us.”

“Yes.”

“Survivors.”

“Yes.”

“Stay with me tonight.”

“Yes.”

He laughed out loud. “You're very good for me.”

“You're good for me, too. Better than anyone I've known.”

Ruis ran his hand through his hair and grimaced when it came back dusty. “I need to clean up. There's a shower-room in the corner. Will you wait here for me?”

She examined the unfamiliar room one more time. “I don't think I dare explore.”

“It's wonderful here,” he said, bending an intense look on her. “And the Greensward is beautiful.”

Ailim tried a smile. “I'm sure.”

He shook his head. “You'll see.” With a flick of his hand he headed off to a corner, opened a door she hadn't noticed, and disappeared inside.

Ailim swung her legs to dangle over the side of the bed and stretched. She felt unaccountably good.

“GrandLady D'SilverFir,” the Ship said.

“Yes?” As long as she pretended it was the voice of a Residence instead of a Ship, she'd be fine.

“We have reviewed all your personal and professional records—”

“What! How?” Her lips thinned.

“We have reconnected with the Public Archives and the D'SilverFir computer.”

“What?”

“Ah, the D'SilverFir ‘ResidenceLibrary,' ” Ship said.

“Oh,” Ailim said hollowly.

“You are noted to be a lady of great integrity.”

“Thank you.”

“Our Captain, Ruis Elder, is in danger Outside our skin.”

“Ah.”

“We must insist that you swear an oath not to betray him.”

That sent anger spurting through her. “Of course I won't betray him.”

“You are an official judiciary officer and have sworn to uphold the laws of Celta.”

“You don't have to tell me that. I don't forget my vows.”

“Yet you are breaking them,” Ship pointed out.

Fifteen

“
All human rules and laws must be somewhat flexible,”
Ailim told the Ship. “Extenuating circumstances must always be considered.”

When the Ship didn't answer, she exhaled in relief. She didn't want to debate her honor, her oaths, or how she was flouting Celtan law. She licked her lips. The air in this chamber seemed drier than that outside, or in D'SilverFir Residence. “Ship, you said that you had a connection with D'SilverFir Residence.” She kept her voice firm, with a deliberate authoritative note.

“Correct.”

“I requested an alarm be raised if I were absent later than third-bell. I think—”

“Transmitting information to the D'SilverFir Residence that you are safe and unharmed. Additional data regarding the state of the fault and the Residence foundation broadcasted also.”

Ruis stepped from the corner of the room. His oddly cut trous molded his muscles. Toweling his hair, he smiled at her.

She shook her head at him. “You are really living on
Nuada's Sword
.”

“As I said, you know my secrets.”

“You know mine,” she whispered. “You know of the HouseHeart tunnel.”

He hung the towel around his neck and strode to her. “Ship, do you have diagrams of the corridor you helped build for the SilverFirs?”

One wall darkened, flashed, then schematics appeared on it. Ailim started. They were better than the ancient drawings she had. “The corridor. Built as a temporary passage. We were never contacted to finish the project. Had we been involved in the construction, it would not be at risk today.”

“I'm sorry,” Ailim said.

“Only the outer shell was poured for the route. The material is the least strong and flexible, fit to keep small animals and plant roots from penetrating the passage.”

“What needs to be done?” asked Ruis, sitting next to her.

“An inner coating of self-mending polymer and two more layers should be assembled of carbon nanotubes—”

“We don't need the details,” Ruis interrupted coolly.

Ailim goggled at him. She began to grasp the great power of the Ship. The fact that Ruis commanded it made her breath catch even as it stirred something deep inside her.

Her gaze fixed on Ruis's hands. Strong, with long, elegant fingers, but with small scars due to his work. She frowned. No, the scars were too many and looked . . . She gasped and grabbed one of his hands to scrutinize it in the bright light, recalling that he'd hidden his hands from her view more than once.

His breath stopped, too.

Her mouth thinned as she examined palm and fingers. She whipped the towel from him to study his torso. Horror flooded through her at the evidence that he'd been systematically tortured. She'd seen razorslit torture before. Her stomach lurched sickeningly.

She touched one scar, two, on his chest. He'd gone still, face set, not looking at her.

“Oh, Ruis.” She slid her hands up his warm body to his shoulders. Traced the line of his jaw with her index finger. His face had been spared, thank the Lady and Lord. “Oh, Ruis.”

He captured her hands and brought them to his mouth, kissing them. He finally met her eyes, his hurt like some wild thing that had been trapped.

“No,” she said. “Not you. This should not have happened to you.”

“Of course it would.” His voice was harsh. “I'm a Null, of no use to anyone, and in the charge of a person like Bucus—”

“That evil man. That evil, evil man! I will get him for this. Where's the amulet?”

“I destroyed it,” Ruis said.

Ailim stared at him. “Why? If we had it we could use it as evidence against your uncle Bucus.”

“What!”

“Your uncle Bucus, my aunt Menzie.” Her hand fluttered as if pointing out the obvious. “They're lovers. He gave her the amulet, and primed her to use if. If we could prove it—”

“The damned amulet was affecting you
and
the earth fault. An evil thing that had to be destroyed. It withered up and—” The words stuck in his throat as he remembered the other thing he'd seen that night that had withered up and might have fallen apart with a touch. A nasty taste coated his tongue.

“What is it?” Ailim demanded.

Ruis just shook his head. Whatever his expression was, it alarmed Ailim. She grabbed his shoulders and peered into his eyes. “Tell me!”

His mouth pulled down in distress and disgust. He put his hands around Ailim's waist, feeling her soft and supple strength, the life that ran through her. He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her. It calmed him.

When he opened his lashes, her eyes held more gray than blue.