Ties of Power (Trade Pact Universe) (61 page)

As Rael had said, they were all a little crazy at the moment.

“What will you do now?” Barac asked her, shoving another shirt into his carrysack. “Return home to Deneb?”

Her touch in the M’hir warmed even more. “I was actually going to ask where you were planning to go, Cousin. Back to your bar, perhaps?”

Barac gave a refined shudder. “I’ve had more than sufficient exposure to that lifestyle.” He paused, not meeting her eyes. “I don’t know. Kurr’s murder gave me a purpose, Rael. Without it, I’m not sure what I’ll do next.”

Rael admired the suppleness of her ankle. “You could apply to Council for another Testing. With Sira there, you can be sure of some serious effort toward a good match.”

His mouth twitched with irony. “The second Council vote was to suspend any Testing of Candidates until our new allies in the Trade Pact can help investigate the Power-of-Choice. It may be months before any Choosers are permitted to Join. They can wait, you know. Time only passes for the unChosen.”

Rael smiled mysteriously. “We’ll see. But in the meantime, if you don’t have any plans, Barac, why don’t you come with me?”

“To Deneb? No thanks. It’s a bit rich for my taste—”

Her smile broadened, reaching her dark eyes and sending them sparkling with mirth. “Oh, I have a new spot in mind, Cousin.

“How would you like to become a Mystic One?”

Chapter 61

“I CAN’T wait, Brother! The orders are piling up. There’s—Good morning, Sira,” Huido broke off what amounted to a tirade at Morgan as I walked into the main hall. His eyestalks were whirling.

Morgan smiled a greeting, looking rested and content—something I attributed as much to his checking over the Fox after her flight with Terk at the helm as to a good night’s rest. Through the M’hir, I felt a wash of caring that brought warmth to my cheeks. “Huido is being crushed by his own success,” he informed me.

I raised an eyebrow at the Carasian. He was pacing, an activity which not only generated a significant level of clattering and rumbling, but also threatened the furniture. The Cloisters hadn’t been designed or furnished with his massive restlessness in mind. As well, I thought to myself, drive a groundcar in circles around the vases.

“The truffles,” I said, understanding at once. “Poculan truffles.”

“What else!” Huido’s claws threatened a chandelier I was fond of and I winced. He noticed and calmed himself, but only slightly. “There have been orders from throughout the quadrant. Who knows how, but the word of my new recipe spread translight. The com system at the Claws & Jaws has been overloaded for two days!”

How Morgan kept his face straight I didn’t know. Then, when he spoke, I found out: “Which means, my lovely witch, the Fox and I have to make a run to Pocular and do some digging, or my brother here could be out of business.” There was an undercurrent of regret to the M’hir, a fervent promise to return along with a not-completely controlled and quite flattering frustration.

I settled into a chair, straightening the formal robe Enora had helped me put on this morning. There would be another Council meeting today. “We are Joined, Jason,” I reassured him. “There is no real distance between us, no matter where you have to go.”

A flicker of something, quickly suppressed. We might be forever linked in our thoughts, but Morgan had kept much of his inscrutability. As it should be, I thought, making sure I kept some of my own.

He sketched a bow. “Then we’ll be off. Huido—” this with a definite glare of irritation, “has already scheduled a docking tug. And Huido is planning to go ahead to pay the fees—?” this hint bringing the Carasian to attention. He waved a claw at me.

“I’ll make sure we send the first batch to your table, Sira.”

With a satisfied snap, Huido left.

We were alone.

I looked at Morgan. “You’d better hurry. He might leave without you.”

The Human hesitated, off-balance as if he’d been about to reach for me, then thought better of it. I kept myself perfectly still. “Of course,” he said instead. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

I nodded. “I await your return.”

 

“Huido! Huido! Where is he?” The muttering was coming close and I clamped down my barriers as tightly as possible. “Damn his shell, anyway. Huido! I need that spanner—”

Morgan stormed into the cargo bay, his cheeks spotted with red and his blue eyes stormy. There were lines between his brows and from the edges of his mouth to his chin.

“This spanner?” I said, coming out from behind the plas crate I’d been securing against one wall. No point taking the Fox out empty.

The way his face changed made me tremble, but I held my voice and thoughts light. “There’s a lot to do, Captain, to make that schedule. Do you need the spanner or not?”

He took a step toward me. “The Clan needs its First Chosen,” Morgan reminded me, blue eyes starting to glow.

“They know how to find me.”

Another step. “The Drapsk need their Mystic One.”

“I’ve arranged a suitable replacement.”

A final step, bringing Morgan so close I could feel the beating of his heart, twin to my own. His eyes were deep pools

I would drown in forever.

“The Trade Pact—”

“Has functioned quite well without me so far and will continue to do so.” I watched my hair slide up to brush his now-pale cheeks and whisper across his smiling lips.

“You know full well, Captain—” I said softly, my arms and power wrapping around to hold him tightly: the farthest I ever hoped to be from my Chosen. . . .

“The Fox needs her crew.”