Rion (24 page)

“But you may be the only human telepath on the planet.”

“I suppose.” She sounded tired. “This sounds… bizarre.”

He kept his tone reasonable. “Suppose we kiss—”

She raised her eyebrows. “You think you’re going to get lucky again?”

“A lot of lucky.” He grinned. “But while we kiss, try to figure out what you’re broadcasting.”

She scowled at him. “How will we know if I send anything?”

“Maybe you send automatically,” he suggested, hearing her reluctance. “Maybe you can learn to control it. Maybe kissing won’t
even be necessary eventually—not that I mind kissing you…”

“Kissing or making love all the time is a little impractical. Especially for a crown prince—your people might expect you to
govern them… or something,” she teased.

“I know the idea’s wacky. But if your skill could save my people…”

“You’ve seen this in a flash?” she asked.

He wanted to lie, but he’d promised he wouldn’t. He shook his head. “It’s more like a hunch. Or maybe I just need an excuse
to kiss you.” He slowly leaned toward her, his eyes on hers.

She placed a hand on his chest. “Wait. Suppose I upset the children again?”

“They’re in human form now. Besides, you made them happy, remember?”

“Still, some of them could have happily flown into a wall and broken their wings. I think we need a more controlled experiment.
Maybe with just one dragon close by and the others far away.”

“How far?”

“Damn.” She trembled. “On Earth my range was over twenty miles.”

“I’ll talk to Lex, and we’ll think of something.”

“What exactly are you going to tell him?” Her tone sharpened, and he realized that although she wanted to help, she was uncomfortable
with others knowing what they would attempt.

“I’ll say that you need a private place to work on dampening the pain. And we want to make sure the babies don’t go wild on
us again.”

“No specifics?”

“No specifics.” His people didn’t need to know how Marisa did what she did, not unless she could find a way to teach others.
At first, she could try to teach him.

“Good.” She licked her bottom lip. “So we’re waiting on kissing until tomorrow?”

He tugged her toward him, pleased when she snuggled, but all of a sudden, she jerked away. He frowned. “What?”

“Touching may not be such a good idea, either.” Her voice was guarded.

“Why not?”

“Because your touching me creates feelings. And if I start broadcasting…”

He groaned. “So I’m not ever going to be able to touch you without everyone within twenty miles knowing exactly how happy
I’m making you?”

“Damn.” She sat up and drew her knees to her chest. “And what happens if I get angry and broadcast that?”

His heart skipped. “Has that ever happened?”

“Not to my knowledge.” She began to shake.

“Hey.” He started to touch her, then pulled back and clenched his fingers into fists. “We’ll figure this out.”

“I damn well hope so.”

“Look, when you first dragonshaped, it took awhile to get the hang of telepathic communication, right?”

“Not really. I just used the same communication that Lucan and I always used.”

“What about the group telepathy?”

“At first I just did that, too. It’s like shouting instead of speaking. But then I learned to narrow down and direct my communication.
If there’s a group, I don’t have to send to everyone. I can pick and choose who will receive.”

“Maybe sending emotions works the same way. With practice, you may eventually choose who will receive the emotions you send.”

“Maybe.” Frustration laced her words. “But how am I going to practice?”

He chuckled. “With your ability to take away pain, there’ll be no shortage of volunteers.”

She shook her head. “This is so not funny.”

“Sorry.”

“In the last six months I’ve been around a lot of dragonshapers. No one’s ever picked up my emotions unless I was with you.
Not until I kissed you or made love to you. And if you make one crack about having to kiss me for the sake of your country,
I’ll deck you.”

He was smiling inside, but he held out his hands, palms up. “No jokes.”

“Good.”

He patted the pillow, glad she couldn’t see his face in the dark. “Come on. We both need sleep.”

T
HE FLASH WOKE
Rion in the middle of the night. One moment he was staring at the ceiling, the next he sucked in his breath.

The Holy Grail floated within a glass case. Made of burnished metal, it glowed with an unmistakable inner beauty and a patina
that depicted its ancient age.

The Holy Grail. A legendary healing cup reputed to be as old as the galaxy.

The same Holy Grail Rion had once held in his hands.

Four men wearing Unari uniforms stood guard around the case that held the Grail. Behind them were monitors. Rion couldn’t
read the language. But one screen showed a star map, with a course plotted in.

According to the monitor, the ship was part of an armada and heading straight for Honor.

Stars. The Unari were escorting the Grail to Honor.

Rion awakened as the sun came up. His flash last night had left him certain that time was running out for his people. The
Unari wouldn’t risk bringing the Holy Grail to Honor, not until they’d enslaved every single Honorian.

He left Marisa to sleep and met the rebel foraging party and Erik at the front entrance. Someone had built a fire in the hall,
and the men were drinking hot tea.

“Erik!” Rion stepped into the room. He had no difficulty picking his cousin out of the crowd. They shared the same height,
the same dark hair and gray eyes, the same broad shoulders. But there the resemblances ended. Erik was rail thin, with heavy
dark circles under his eyes. His skin had been burned by the sun and wind. He had a scar down his neck, but it was his eyes
that had changed the most. Rion’s fun-loving, luxury-craving cousin had been replaced by a serious and stern man. Rion clapped
Erik into a bear hug. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Erik broke into a warm grin. “They told me you’d come back. With a woman. Knowing you—she’s pretty.”

“That she is.”

“She’s an offworlder?” Erik asked.

“What of it?” Rion tried not to bristle.

“Just guard her well. Ever since the Unari invaded, outsiders are not exactly welcome.”

Rion introduced himself to the other men, who soon went off to their beds after their night mission. Finally, he and Erik
were alone. Rion had dreamed of this meeting, but now that it had arrived, he sensed Erik was uncomfortable and sought to
set him at ease by telling his story. He summarized his escape from Honor, the crash on Pendragon, the journey to Earth, then
Tor, and back home.

“That’s quite a tale. I fear mine is nowhere near as exciting.”

“How did you escape the Unari?” Rion asked.

“They kept us weak, starving us of platinum so we couldn’t humanshape. But some of the men went without their platinum, so
I could…”

“Do you know how many times I wished you’d come with me?” Rion shook his head and sighed. “Your staying behind so I could
get away… I don’t know how I’ll ever thank you.”

“I don’t, either,” Erik jested, but his eyes didn’t smile. “The Unari took over the city in one day. An hour after they landed,
they’d installed the Tyrannizer. Chivalri fell in two days. We didn’t stand a chance.”

“You were part of the slave labor?”

Erik nodded. “The Unari are forcing dragonshapers to build a huge structure. I worked on one wall for three years. It’s bad.
They only feed the prisoners when they dragonshape. And it’s never enough, so they are too weak to humanshape, and remain
trapped in slave labor.”

“What do you know of the machine?” Rion asked, his voice gentle, his heart heavy. He suspected Erik had suffered much that
he wasn’t saying. The man was nothing but skin and bones.

“The more you resist obeying Unari orders, the worse the pain.”

“You’ve never seen the Tyrannizer?” Rion asked, and when Erik shook his head, disappointment filled him.

“But I’ve heard rumors.” Erik’s eyes turned hard. “It is said that our best warriors are kept in a room with the Tyrannizer.
That the Unari torture them and then the machine absorbs their pain and projects it across all of Honor.”

Ever since Rion had learned Erik was with the rebels, he’d been counting on his cousin to help plan a revolt. But the Unari
had beaten Erik, like everyone else, down to a ghost of his true self.

“I’ve heard rumors that your father…” Erik couldn’t meet his gaze.

“They torture him?” Just saying the words hurt.

“It’s only rumor,” Erik said. “If the Unari find out who you are, they’ll turn the countryside upside down until they find
you.”

“And my mother?”

“She died in the initial takeover, trying to protect the children.” Erik’s eyes teared. “She was a great lady. Even if she
was from Tor.”

“Yes.” Rion’s throat closed with grief. He hadn’t grown up in his parents’ household, but he’d visited often. He remembered
falling and skinning his knee and his mother cleaning it and telling him how brave he was to let her wash it. She’d smelled
like violets, and her smile was like sunshine. But her eyes were often sad. She must have loved him very much to have given
him up to save his life. Now she was gone.

He told himself that at least she hadn’t suffered for three long years. But that fact did nothing to ease the hot ball of
anger in his gut.

“They threw her body to the dogs.” Erik shuddered, and Rion turned away to hide his tears. “You shouldn’t have come back.
There’s nothing here but starvation, torture, and death.”

“We’re going to kick the Unari off this world.” Rion spoke past the tight ache in his chest, past the huge lump in his throat.

Erik raised eyes that shone with hope. “If you have a plan, count me in.”

If you know both yourself and your enemy, you can increase your success in battle.

—H
ONORIAN
G
ENERAL
E
MERAT

A
s the small group of rebels left Winhaven, Lex cautioned Rion and Marisa, “Stay on guard. If the Unari have learned about
our group in Winhaven or our route into the city, they may attack without warning.”

Darian took point, Mendle the rear. Lex walked beside Rion and Marisa when the path’s width permitted. But often the trail
narrowed and forced them to march through the forest single file. They kept a steady pace through the thick trees, and she
soon lost sight of Winhaven.

The men obviously knew this forest well. They stopped frequently to fill water bottles from swift-flowing streams. The temperature
change from mountains to valleys was more severe than on Earth. Yesterday it had snowed, but today, at the lower altitude,
she didn’t need a jacket—but this was no pleasure outing. The blaster on her hip reminded her that danger could come from
any direction.

Rion had given her a quick lesson. Basically all she had to do was point and shoot. With no safety mechanism, she’d been a
little nervous about handling the blaster until she’d understood it took a strong trigger finger to fire bursts of energy.

Their course sloped downhill, and by the time they reached the valley, the sun had risen higher and the temperature had edged
up at least ten degrees. She saw no sign of the Unari and was grateful for a chance to stop, take a drink of water, and catch
her breath.

Lex pointed to a stone ridge about half a mile away. “That’s where we go underground. Be careful to keep your voices low.
Sounds can carry long distances here. As far as we know, the Unari aren’t aware of our route, but they have spies everywhere.”

Rion peered into the distance, and Marisa caught sight of a bird soaring overhead. Merlin had rejoined them.

Rion raised his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “That’s a train tunnel?”

Lex nodded. “Most of the system collapsed after the Unari bombed the transportation system. But with the help of several rebel
groups, we’ve cleared the underground route right into the heart of the city.”

“The old trains still work?” Rion asked, his eyes gleaming with interest.

“The Unari appropriated them.” Lex gestured them forward and Marisa sensed he was trying to prepare them for what they could
expect. “We stole a couple of antigravs—”

“Antigravs?” She frowned at Lex. “Will they prevent us from dragonshaping?”

He shook his head. “Only the Torans modify them that way. We’ve salvaged doors from bombed houses and antigravs from factories.
So we have crude transport platforms to ride on.”

“You salvaged doors?” she asked, wondering if Lex was jesting.

“We’ve had to improvise. And wood is in short supply. They’re nothing fancy, but at least we can ride the rest of the way.”

The tunnel had no tracks. But waiting for them was a chain of doors, nailed together to make enough seats for their entire
group to ride. Headlights shone forward and toward the rear. This primitive train was far superior to anything on Earth. The
rebels had fastened antigravs onto one side of the doors, causing the doors to float above the path. As their tiny rebel group
sped through the tunnel, wind whipped through her hair. Her eyes teared. But there wasn’t much to see. Just lots of dark rock
and concrete, with the occasional tree root breaking through.