Trapped On Talonque: (A Sectors SF romance) (19 page)

“It is I, going to the Lady’s chamber to commune with her.”

“About what? Where’s the king?”

“He remains at Fr’taray’s treasure chamber. You’d scarcely credit the riches we unlocked there with the help of her father’s warriors.” Celixia stopped at the edge of the stairs, standing at Nate’s elbow. He had his weapon out and ready, hidden under the edge of his heavy uniform cape. Thom was similarly prepared. “You should have seen Lileet and Uanna arguing over possession of certain of the boxes, Nanzin. It was positively comical. Lord Sarbordon had to intervene to remind them Lolanta will have first choice.”
 

“First choice of what, girl? Jewels?” The other woman’s voice sounded avid.

“Among other things. You’ll see soon enough. I must be on my way because the king needs information from T’naritza, and you know how impatient he can be.”

“Information the warriors of the goddess couldn’t supply?” The woman behind them sounded surprised and a little suspicious. “Regarding what?”

Smart lady, not easy to lull her suspicions.
From the increasing volume of the priestess’s voice, Nate calculated Nanzin might be coming closer. He tensed, ready to spin and launch an attack, hoping to be able to capture or knock her out before she could scream, but willing to use the Mark One’s destructive power if necessary to save the mission.

Celixia continued to handle the questions smoothly, however. “I can’t discuss with you what must be asked of the Lady. Neither you nor Lolanta ever tell me what Huitlani’s communications regard.”

“True enough.” A grudging response. “Be on your way. I’ll report the progress to Lolanta meantime. She may want to go to the plateau with you, if so much of value is being found. The temple must have its fair share.”

Celixia’s voice was placating. “I’ll send one of these guards to check with her when I’m ready to depart.”

“See that you do.”

Celixia spun on her heel and proceeded to the heavy leather curtains, which Atletl jumped to open for her. As Nate passed through the portal, he risked a quick peek over his shoulder. Tapping one foot on the mosaic floor, hands on her hips, the priestess gazed after them thoughtfully.

“Keep going, keep walking,” Nate said in a whisper. “You handled the situation perfectly.”

“I was scared.” Celixia sounded pleased by his approval. “Nanzin is Lolanta’s oldest daughter. Inquisitive and short-tempered, almost as bad as her mother.”

“I’m not sure she bought the entire story,” Thom said as he descended the first set of long stairs.

“She was standing there when we left the room, thinking hard from the looks of it. I’m sure she’ll report what you said to Lolanta, but I’m not so sure she isn’t going to add a few opinions of her own.” Nate kept walking.

“All the more reason to hurry this rescue op along,” Thom said.

After his group was safely inside the barrier of the whitewashed wall, Nate raised one hand, stopping his companions from moving to the next level. “When we get to the translucent wall, I’m going in alone.”

“I’m the only one who knows how to release the Lady from her sleep.” Celixia protested instantly, apparently territorial about her duties and prerogatives. “I must go with you.”

“Bithia knows.”

“She may not choose to tell you,” the priestess said. “What then?”

Nate looked from face to face of his three allies. He saw understanding on Thom’s face, puzzlement on Atletl’s and dismay on Celixia’s.
 

“This is between her and me.” He directed his words at Celixia. “It has to be her choice what she wants to do.”

“And if she chooses death? You said she’s spoken of a death wish more than once.” Thom’s question was gentle. “You prepared to honor that request?” He removed his helmet, shook his head and brushed the too long red hair back from his face. “I know what you want, but are you prepared for the other choices she can make? High-stakes game, no guarantees. She might not want to run with us. We can’t leave her here alive to suffer Sarbordon’s vengeance.”

Nate stared into his friend’s serious face for a long moment, then nodded once. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. I’ve considered all the possibilities. I’ve had too damn long to think.”

“Not nearly as long as Bithia’s had.”

Nate acknowledged the point. “Whatever she requests of me, I’ll take care of. Even if she prefers death to what I’m offering.”

“All right, then.” Thom moved aside. “We’ll be waiting.”

“If we’re found out, you should have enough warning from the initiation of the white wall mechanism’s activation to hustle down the stairs and through the translucent barrier.” Nate regarded the deceptively solid wall behind them. It would yield easily to manipulation of just a few of the alien symbols. “Fortunately, only Celixia has the ability to reliably sing the final barrier open on the first try.”

“We’ll be fine.” Thom gave Nate a good-natured shove in the direction of the stairs leading to the final barrier. “You’re wasting time. Good luck to you, to both of you.”

Nate swallowed hard, nodded again and descended the stairs two at a time. Celixia followed more cautiously.

Reaching the translucent barrier, she caught at Nate’s sleeve. “I—I hardly know what to say to you. I realize you need no advice from me, no help, but I give you my blessing. As the keeper of the Lady’s secrets, descendant of the first Hialar who took her into his charge directly from the hands of Fr’taray, I hereby relinquish the duty and responsibility to you.” She set the red box on one of the steps and extended her hands to Nate, palms up.

He studied her serious face. Advancing a step, he covered her dainty fingers with his much larger digits. She clasped his fingers firmly, her small hands trembling against his callused palms. She raised their joined hands to her lips, kissing first one and then the other. “The duty is now yours, Nate Reilly.” Releasing him, she smiled tremulously while tears rolled down her cheeks. “I never dreamed of handing over these responsibilities until I lay on my deathbed, and then it would have been to another of my own kin. Hard to accept this irrevocable alteration to tradition, I admit.”

Nate was moved by her obviously strong, mixed emotions. “My fondest hope is the lady will need your help and companionship awhile longer. Thank you for all you’ve done for her and helping me survive.”

She blushed. “I only did what must be done. Now I’ll sing the portal open for you.”
 

Nate was acutely conscious of time running out. Strange to contemplate that after Bithia had waited thousands of years, her time was now ticking away in rapid, measurable increments. His time had always been limited by the rules of a normal human life-span, so it was nearly impossible to grasp how long she’d been left to sleep, dream and think, time having been artificially suspended for her all these millennia.
 

The recent encounter in the halls above with the suspicious priestess, who was probably well on her way to Lolanta, was proof of how close to the edge of disaster they were both running now. And their friends and allies with them. He didn’t want to be trapped here under the palace.

The portal disappeared in response to Celixia’s chant of the alien voice-activation sequence.

He bounded down the three stairs. As he moved across the room, he took off the leather helmet with its towering crest of feathers, dropping it to the side where it rolled into the corner. He was bracing himself for the conversation he had to conduct with Bithia. The inexorable translucent green curtain of rippling light hung there, blocking his access to her. Nate advanced to the edge of the lights where the pressure against his chest was like running into a stone wall.
Like in our shared dreams
. He shook the memory off.
This time is reality, and my chance to free her only comes this once.

“Bithia?” He whispered it aloud, the syllables echoing with an odd resonance. The light of the curtain danced, rippling in time with the syllables with a hypnotic effect. He blinked hard to focus.

“Nate?” His name, spoken aloud in a heartbreaking mixture of longing and sadness. She stirred slightly on the couch as a tear trickled from under the long lashes.
Free and gone.
Her beautiful voice sighed in his mind.

She appeared to be deep in machine-controlled sleep, barely at the edge of his ability to touch her consciousness. He had to pull her out of her solitary dream. It was imperative she realize he was physically present in the chamber with her. He needed her full attention before he could broach the subject of her freedom.
 

Nate scanned the symbols controlling her physical and mental condition, reaching to activate them before pulling his hand to his side.
No machine. Nothing artificial between us, ever again.
He’d reach her mind to mind, or not at all. Their bond was either a true connection to be trusted and relied upon, or it had never existed—a fiction created by the alien device.

This was the time to put everything to the test.

He placed both hands on the glimmering curtain. The massive energy of the device pulsed and flowed against his palms, unlike the way it behaved in the dreams.
Can I channel this power, use it to boost my signal?
Closing his eyes, he concentrated his will and desire on finding her wandering inner self. He visualized her as he wished he’d seen her more often in their shared dreams, walking freely through the swirling green and gray mists to meet him. Not immobile on the couch as she’d been in the majority of their encounters. He built the picture and held it, filling in the small details he so loved about her—

She was there, in the dreamspace, regarding him in shock and disbelief.
 

You were supposed to escape, not set foot in this damned place again.
 

Even in the signature, light musical tone he always heard in his mind, she sounded distressed, angry at him. Her lips moved as she switched to what passed for speech in their dream encounters. “Why are you here? Did Sarbordon bring you? Have we failed?”
 

Nate sensed terror rising in her and tried to inject calm and certainty into his own tone. “I’m not leaving while you’re still held prisoner. We need to talk. You need to make a decision. Concentrate and come back from the dreamspace, come talk to me in the real world. Beat the fucking machine.”

“You can’t do anything for me beyond the happiness I took from our shared dreams these weeks. We’ve always known the limitations.” Ignoring his plea, she sounded resigned.

“You’re the only one on board with the idea of me leaving you behind. I’ve told you I won’t go without you.”

“All I wanted was to save your life, and now you’re throwing it away,” she said, voice choked as if she fought back tears. Nate couldn’t get a word or thought in edgewise as she went on. “I never cared as much about anyone, not in all these long painful years, not since my father walked out of this same room. How dare you risk your safety for me? You must escape before anyone finds you here. They’ll kill you in front of me, pleased to make me watch, unable to lift a finger to help you. If you care for me as you claim, please be sensible and go while there’s time.”

“
You
be sensible,” he said. “Tell me how to set you free, and we’ll get out of here together. I don’t want to waste precious time any more than you do, but I’m not leaving you behind.”

There was silence on the surface of their mental communication channel.

Nate heard her subliminally, so attuned had they become to each other in the last month. He opened his eyes for a moment, staring through the curtain at her. Seeing her pinned helplessly under the domination of the healing device pained him. It always did. He closed his eyes, re-establishing the mental link, deliberately changing the subject, but only temporarily. “Your plan worked as well as you hoped. It was terrific, in fact. Sarbordon and the others literally fell unconscious the moment we took them to the lower level of the storehouse. We ran off the kemat, brought him and his guards back above ground and left them outside the pyramid, tied up. The priestesses and chariot drivers too. How long will they sleep?”

“You didn’t leave him underground to die, then?” Her question sounded relieved, pleased.

“I don’t take lives in cold blood. We had this discussion, remember?” Nate shook his head. “When I killed Kalgitr, it was in self-defense.”
In case she needed a reminder.
“Killing helpless, unconscious people is outside my code of ethics. Thom and I are soldiers, not murderers. Getting back to the real subject of our escape—we don’t have much time, do we? Are they going to sleep for a million years the way you have?” He found the idea amusing, suitable payback for the ruler’s cruelty toward her.

“Of course not.” Bithia sounded annoyed that he could joke. “Since you brought them to the fresh air, the effect should wear off by morning, I imagine, at the outside. Abandon this absurd idea of freeing me. Save yourself and your friends.”

“There were weapons, by the way.” To avoid the confrontation over her refusal to discuss her own escape, Nate stalled for time. “I was glad to get my hands on those. Improves our odds.”

“Weapons?” She was completely taken aback by the information. “You must be mistaken. Let me see.”

He visualized himself holding the Mark One. He blocked the details of how the weapons had been found and of the bodies of her fellow explorers. Now was not the time to go into that subject.