Spear of Light (34 page)

“I understand.” He started back down the path, pulling her alongside him. “The first time I saw her, she was walking toward me from a distance down the main street in Hope. This was before the attack and Nexity and the shield over Hope. It brought her murder back, and it seemed like a dream too.” His arm slid around her waist. “After you see someone killed, you don't expect them to pop up alive and walk toward you, smiling and holding out a hand.”

“What was it like? To see her?”

He didn't answer right away.

“I know.” Nona glanced up at him. “She can't be the same.”

“She isn't. She's more confident than our Chrystal was.”

She smiled at his terminology. “I bet that's because she had a Katherine. I think her death hurt all of ours . . . of the ones we knew. Know. She and Katherine were inseparable for years. Both of the men joined the family later. Much later.”

“I didn't know that.”

“Did she ask about me?”

“No, but we were never alone, and she doesn't know me. Surely she knows the other Chrystal knew me.”

“It gets confusing,” Nona said.

He smiled at her. “It does.”

They stopped near an impromptu band, where two people drummed and someone else played a stringed instrument, and a woman in a flowing red and green dress chanted softly.

They watched quite a while, her hand in his, the moment a warm respite. When they started walking again, she asked, “Will anyone else help? We don't know for sure how many people they have on their side, but it sounds like it will be more than we can scare up.”

He let out a loud sigh. “If it goes to a fight, we'll probably lose. I think the game is that we need to convince them not to fight. So we shouldn't take very many people.”

“That makes sense. Do you know who
them
is? Surely the instigators aren't the farmhands and the teenagers.”

He stiffened. “They're probably from off-world. I used to complain to Manny about the sieve of a security system, and surely it's worse now. I'll bet anyone could land anywhere on Lym.”

“You can't fix that now.” There were so many things to worry about, she genuinely couldn't prioritize. “I'll call Satyana and see what I can find out about Gunnar.”

“Maybe you shouldn't. Are you sure your communications are secure?”

“From the Next?” The woman who had been chanting slid into song, her voice high and clear.

“Maybe it's not safe to contact the Deep. We'll find out soon enough,” he said. “I have to go. I need to let Cricket out.” He ran his rough, warm fingers down the side of her jaw and brushed them against her lips. She nibbled at them.

His voice sounded thick. “It's good to see you.”

“I missed you.”

Jean Paul came up beside them, interrupting the moment.

“Did you find them?” she asked.

“Yes. They're waiting.”

She took one more long drink in of the band's music and said, “All right.”

They came upon Farro and Amanda sitting silently. “Is everything all right?” Nona asked.

Amanda looked up, and her face brightened a little. “Hi Charlie.”

He leaned down and gave her a long hug. “How's it going?”

“Awful,” she said. “We have to get to Entare and the Port seems to be saying we shouldn't.”

Farro looked up. “They won't approve my flight plan.”

Charlie let go of Amanda and sat down next to her, gesturing Nona to his other side. She had forgotten that he and Amanda had to be old friends; they were both first families. They'd probably grown up together.

Charlie spoke to Farro. “I heard a rumor that there's going to be a fight for Manna Springs. Again.”

Farro bit her lip.

“Do you know anything?”

“No,” she said. “Not for sure. But there have been rumors for weeks that people don't like Jules and Amanda.”

Amanda stiffened, and Nona bit her tongue to keep the, “I told you so,” from escaping.

“What happens if you go anyway?” Charlie asked.

Farro frowned and crossed her slender, dark arms over her chest. “I probably get thrown in jail.”

“They wouldn't dare. You just told me they won't approve your plan. That's not the same as telling you no. Tell them their message was garbled.”

Farro's eyes rounded.

“I'll take you back in to the rangers if you get in trouble. It's not like the Port Authority is going to hurt you.”

“Don't be sure,” she said. “Bern's in charge, and she hates everything right now. She thinks like Kyle.” She glanced at Amanda, and her voice fell. “I think they asked me to bring you out here to keep you safe. It's Jules they want deposed.”

Amanda's face had hardened so that she barely flinched at Farro's words. “I need to find Amy, even though she'll hate me for it. Jules can wait. So can Manna Springs.”

“Well then,” Charlie said. “We're all in agreement, right?” He watched Farro closely.

Farro swallowed hard. “I met Amy once. She's a good kid. I'll take you.”

Amanda turned to Nona. “But what about you? Should you go on a mission like this? Is it an act of war?”

Nona went still for a moment, thinking. “War on who?” She smiled. “It sounds like I can say I was investigating the actions of a resident of the Diamond Deep.”

When Charlie looked puzzled, she said, “Gunnar Ellensson.”

He laughed.

Amanda said, “If you're sure.”

Nona replied, “I can't imagine missing this.” She addressed the whole group. “So we're all in.”

One by one, they nodded.

“All right, let's go to bed. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.”

“Do we have a plan?” Amanda asked Charlie.

“Just about. I have some more research to do.”

“I am going to call Satyana.” Nona glanced at Charlie. “I'll be careful. The Next must know Gunnar's here.”

He nodded, accepting her choice although he didn't look pleased about it. Farro looked from one to the other. “I'll sleep.”

Amanda laughed. “Me, too. Although maybe I'll find someone to have a nightcap with and see if I can learn anything more.”

Charlie gave Nona a quick hug and then Amanda an equally quick hug. He looked at Farro briefly, and then she stepped in for a hug from him as well.

Nona held her hand out to Jean Paul and Amanda. Amanda took hers quickly. Jean Paul hesitated, glanced at Charlie, and then shrugged and reached for Nona's outstretched hand. His hand felt cool, but his grip seemed strong and steady. Then everyone else took each other's hands, and they all stood in a circle, linked under the night sky and under the Glittering.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

SATYANA

Satyana gathered herself carefully before she stepped into Gunnar's office. “I just heard from Nona.”

He looked up from where he was sitting at his desk signing things on his slate. “Is she okay?”

Satyana stood stock still, staring at him.

He stared back, looking as if he had no idea what she was talking about.

She tried bite back her words, but failed. “I suspect she's under serious suspicion. When were you going to tell me you were using your ships to help the rebels on Lym?”

“I did tell you I sent some ships down there. What makes you think I'm helping the rebels?”

“Nona thinks so. Apparently so do the rangers and the Port Authority.” She forced herself to lower her voice. Anger never worked well with Gunnar; he just threw up a shield.

“Nona is a child. I haven't told her anything. Who knows who she would tell?”

Satyana bristled. “Not on purpose.” Nona wasn't a child by any stretch of anyone's imagination. She did have a way-too-hopeful outlook on other people,
and
she was a little naive. Still, dammit.

Gunnar wasn't finished yet. “She's getting pretty chummy with Amanda, who is about to be deposed as one of the twin leaders of Manna Springs. That's a beginner's move.”

Satyana helped herself to a glass of water from the side bar and told herself to stay calm. “She's learned a lot from Amanda. And she needed a friend.”

“Certainly you know how pointless friends are in this business. She's aligned herself with the losing side.”

Satyana rejected an urge to pour herself something stronger than water. “We're not there. How do we know how smart her choices are?”

“We don't. So stop worrying about her.”

Satyana shook her head. “I'm not. I came in here worried about you, and I don't want to be distracted. What are you doing on Lym?”

“Trust me,” he said. “And how about some distraction? I can think of a few ways.”

She watched his face closely, trying to decide how to answer. She spent so much time managing Gunnar it hardly felt like a relationship at all. It was more like holding onto one piece of a dangerous, snapping snake and hoping you had the middle instead of the tail. She loved him, but many days—like this one—the love was buried under the need to keep the whole damned Glittering safe from him. “I want to know why you've got ships on Lym.”

He smiled. “And I can't tell you right now. I'm sorry. I know that's hard.”

“Why?”

“If I told you why I can't tell you, I'd be telling you. Just trust me. You usually do.”

She sat down on one of the comfy chairs and emptied her water glass, contemplating how good it would feel to refill it and dump it over his head.

He changed the subject. “What about Neil Nevening. Did he get to Lym?”

She twirled the empty glass in her fingers, absorbing the shift from one bit of dangerous ground to another. “He should arrive in the next few days. He'll message me about whether or not he gets accepted. My bet is that he will.” She hesitated. She'd been hesitating over this subject for days. But if anyone could keep a secret, it was Gunnar. “He asked me if I wanted to become the Historian. Said he built a case before he left.”

Gunnar looked up and drew his brows together so tightly she could see him thinking. It was power, of a sort. Being on the Council. Gunnar always liked power. “Would they give it to you? You've never formally studied history.”

“I've lived through more history than most.” She felt old, a feeling that had swept in heavily upon her from time to time in last few decades. “Leesha and Hiram would vote for me, on an interim basis. They said they need someone as thoughtful as Neil to manage the alliances we're building. They have a slim majority now—they can't afford an enemy.”

He went surprisingly still and silent for a long time. “You know I'm thinking bigger than that.”

She hadn't. Not until he said something. As usual she should have been paying more attention to him than she had been. She hadn't noticed what he was thinking. “I've been busy trying to make Independent Strength strong. There's not enough alignment. I need a single issue to keep them all together. ”

“Would that be easier if you really ran it?”

If there was a china teacup to drop, she'd have done it. “Doesn't that have to be a leader? Or appointed by one?”

“Like the Headman position,” Gunnar said.

She suddenly realized what he was saying.
Did
he want the Headman position
? “Are you sure that's a good idea? You've always hated politics.”

“I'm thinking like you are. Interim. Until everything gets a new equilibrium.”

“How would you even get it?”

“I'm not sure I should get it.” He raised an eyebrow, looking entirely charming. A look she had learned to be wary of. He went on to say, “People might choose you.” He smiled. “And wouldn't that be better than being Historian?”

She walked over to the bar and poured herself two fingers of the hardest rum he had. It burned like fire in her throat.

“You need time to think about it, don't you? Weren't we talking about distractions a few minutes ago? Set this aside for dinner—my treat—and we'll talk about it then.”

She still felt shocked cold by the idea. “I don't have time for distractions.”

He stood up from his desk and came over and rubbed her shoulders. “I can even do harmless distraction.”

“You're never harmless.”

“Trust me.”

Satyana sighed and relaxed under his hands. They were big enough to cover her shoulders entirely, and they warmed her. Tension she hadn't noticed released, slowly, like a breath out. “I can't afford to be distracted.”

“Of course you can.”

A ping distracted them both. Gunnar walked over and picked up his slate. He immediately switched on a wall screen that both he and Satyana could see. The background picture showed stars and ships—and pieces of ships.

It hit her fast and hard, stilling her completely. A reminder of the battle for the High Sweet Home. Of the massacre of the High Sweet Home. The place this had all started. Only this time, the Next didn't appear to be saving any hostages to turn into robotic versions of themselves, like they'd done with Yi, Jason, and Chrystal.

This time they'd simply, utterly destroyed their target.

“But who?”

As if the machine heard her question, a news message scrolled along the bottom of the screen.
“Brea and Darnal Paulson's flagship, the
Free Men
, has been destroyed.”

“I'll say,” Gunnar whispered. On the screen, the ship's pieces were far too small to be recognizable, floating away from each other in many directions. Small attack ships followed the wreckage, blowing it to even smaller pieces. Next ships. Fast, lean, and deadly accurate.

Gunnar came close to her again, and she slid her hand into the warmth of his, felt his fingers close over hers. They weren't seeing the destruction in real time—not from so far away. That didn't make it less visceral. After the Next did this to the High Sweet Home, they had seemed tamer, until recently, when they took Lilith's Station down to component pieces in retribution for an attack. The total destruction of the
Free Men
might be retaliation for the same attack or a pre-emptive strike.