Untitled (16 page)

"Of course you are. I am Captain Davage."

She held her apple and laughed. She put her feet up and took another bite from it. "May I come with you … wherever you are going? I wish to come with you."

"You may not."

"Then stay for a bit. Let us make a pot of coffee and share it together."

"Time is short and I must to the bridge."

Sygillis wasn't giving up. "Then, when will I see you again?"

"I do not know. When a moment allows."

"I want you to take dinner with me, as I wish to continue arguing with you regarding the pending and inevitable status of our relationship. I promise, this evening I will not try to kill you, and as you have seen, I can be taken at my word."

"What if I cannot make time for dinner?"

"Then, all previous notions are off. See you tonight." She smiled.

"Perhaps then you will see fit to make your eyes glow for me again. Your prisoner requests it of you."

With that, Davage left the room. Of all the threats she had made so far, this one was the most disturbing by far.

* * * * *

She finished her apple and threw it aside. The great heaviness within her was gone. He had taken her to the surface and allowed her to be rid of it.

He had promised to help her and he did. This man, this Davage—an enemy—had saved her life.

He was a Fleet captain; he was her enemy. Why had she not killed him? That was her duty …

No, not an enemy. What was he? Could he be … a friend? Was that possible?

Why could she not stop thinking about him?

His eyes, in the dark, glowing with golden light, just like in her dream … the old dream. Was it he? Was he the Light? Had she been waiting for him all this time?

To kill him, such a waste. His light … so beautiful.

She was excited. She wished she could leave her room and go with him. He had been right, though. She was still a prisoner.

For now, for now …

She closed her eyes and thought about the future, about the things she had seen.

Metatron.

Just the two of them standing there alone.

Something whispered … something said that had meant everything to her.

She and Davage … making love. He, showing her things she had never thought possible. Her body, small, trembling, lost in his touch …

And something more, something that she was only now coming to understand.

She had seen herself, the subject of a large, gothic portrait. She stood in an ornate chapel wearing a blue gown. Her hair was arranged in some strange configuration. Her face was painted, her Shadowmark highlighted, not hidden.

Her portrait hung on the stony wall, surrounded by other portraits.

There was an inscription on the frame.

It said: SYGILLIS, COUNTESS OF BLANCHEFORT.

The future … it couldn't come soon enough.

13

"If you ask me, Dav, now—now is when this thing gets really dangerous," Kilos said. She took a drink of coff ee, winced, and set her cup down. She hated coff ee. "I wouldn't go back in there with her under any circumstance."

Davage, sitting in his office, shrugged. "Come now. All she asked was if I would join her for dinner."

"That's what she asked, but that's not what she meant. What she meant was if you don't show up, then she was going to try and kill you again. That's a pretty serious threat. I think she's taking a liking to you. I think that's very clear."

Davage put his cup down. "You really think so? I got the impression she was trying to annoy me with a pointless topic."

"Yes, Dav, I do. I'm not much of a debater, but she wouldn't keep bringing the subject up if it wasn't on her mind. Also, why wouldn't she fall for you? Why did Demona of Ryel, Princess Marilith, Marshall Henbane, and Captain Hathaline all lose it for you and not her?"

"You never did, Ki."

"Oh please, Dav. I like you too much to love you."

"And Demona of Ryel, too?"

"Yes, Dav—open your eyes and look around sometime! All that Sight and you can't see what's right in front of your face. It was pretty obvious. I liked Demona. I thought you two struck a fine couple, if you really want my opinion. Anyway, women just seem to like you— why I don't know."

Davage took a drink and looked at Kilos. "That tiny little man you married, he's a bookworm—I mean a librarian, right?"

"Yes."

"Does he realize what a hostile Marine he married?"

"Yes, he does. It works in my favor."

Davage laughed and took another sip.

"And, Dav, what if, as time goes by, she starts demanding more and more? What if she starts wanting something from you that you're not willing to give?"

"Why would she do that?"

"Listen, Black Hat or not, she is still a female, and is fully capable of acting irrationally. I know, if I had her power, there are probably a few men walking around out there who might be dead right now—you included."

Davage sat down and thought a moment. "I am … noncommittal, as usual."

"You can't be shook up about the Marilith thing for the rest of your life. What is … is what must be, I suppose if I were to wax philosophical. Maybe, when Hath did that thing to her at the ball … what was it?"

"The Cloud …" Davage said with a hint of bitterness.

"Yes—the Cloud. Maybe that's what Marilith was going to become on her own anyway. I think Hath did you a favor. In any event, tread carefully, and do what needs to be done in order to ensure your survival, even if that includes lying down with that Black Hat."

"Ki, don't be crude."

"And by the way, Dav, I also enjoy having dinner with you from time to time. Remember me? Kilos, your first officer, your best friend! We never get to sit in the mess anymore. You're always down there on Deck 13 with the prisoner. I miss my buddy."

"Just doing my part to heighten League-Xaphan relations."

Kilos looked hard at Davage. "Why have you done this, Dav?"

Davage put his coffee cup down and thought a moment.

"Tell me, Dav. I'd really like to know."

"I don't know, Ki. It must be because she looks like Hath—that must be it. It is almost as if I have been granted a reprieve. When I speak to her, it's as if I am speaking to Hath again. I hear her voice, her beautiful voice, back from the grave."

"She's not Captain Hathaline, Dav."

"I understand that, and the more I get to know Sygillis, that point becomes more and more obvious—and I don't mean that as a bad thing, Ki. Hath … I loved her, but she was so damn Blue. She loved parties and invitations and social circles and gossip. I never wanted any of that."

"Dav, you're the Lord of one of the Bluest Great Houses out there."

"Correct, are you saying that I act like a typical Blue Lord?"

"You know you don't. Why ask me such a silly question?"

"Just to emphasize a point. Hath acted every bit the Blue Lady, and that often gave me considerable pause. I always knew Hath liked me, but I could never truly determine if she liked me for me or if it was just my family name, my standing she coveted."

"Dav, you know my relationship with Captain Hathaline was never great, and some of the things that passed between us I keep private— that was between she and I, and she's not here to offer her side of the story—but I could always tell that she deeply loved you."

Davage thought a moment, remembering his friend.

"Ki, if I am to be completely frank right now, I believe I find Sygillis of Metatron … charming."

"You find her what? Charming?"

"She's full of surprises, she has a wonderful wit …"

"When she's not threatening to kill you, you mean."

"… and she's not Blue in the least. I believe I find her perspective on things refreshing. She'll ask me questions about certain topics and take a counter position—she likes to engage in debate as much as I do. We could spend hours bickering back and forth. And I tell you and I'll tell Hath's shade if I ever see her—if she had comported herself as Sygillis does, we'd have married a hundred years ago. I'm glad that I've had the occasion to make her acquaintance."

Kilos sat down next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. "So, when's the wedding?"

Davage smiled. "Undetermined. I'll make sure that you're there as the best man."

She laughed and mussed his blue hair. "Just, be careful, agreed?"

Kilos looked up suddenly. Her large brown eyes grew distant.

"Ki," Davage asked. "Are you all right?"

She didn't answer.

"Ki?"

After a moment she shook her head. "Dav, you're being summoned."

"I am? Who is summoning me?"

"The Grand Abbess. She wants you to come to the Priory, right away."

Davage finished his coffee. "This is a first. Did they say why?"

"No, they didn't. They sound really serious, though."

* * * * *

All League starships carry with them a small contingent of Sisters and a squadron of Stellar Marines, whose primary role is to protect them. The Sisterhood, a secretive and somewhat aloof sect, operate in a Priory, a small cluster of isolated rooms and passages designated for their exclusive use in, usually, a remote part of the ship. The
Seeker's
Priory was located in lonely, seldom-visited Deck 7—the bottom of the ship's frontal hull.

The Priory was the one place that no starship captain commanded. It was the domain of the Sisterhood. Davage had never even set foot in it.

Kilos, a Marine and more closely associated with the Sisters, had to guide Davage through the maze of corridors on Deck 7. He felt uneasy. Here he couldn't hear the ship, he couldn't feel its movements. It was like he was no longer on board the
Seeker
. It was like he was somewhere else, locked in place, incense-laced and rooted in stone.

There were Sisters everywhere. Some had faces that he recognized, and some he'd never seen before. They sat and watched him pass, silent, smiling as usual.

He remembered what Ennez had told him—that the Sisters aboard the
Seeker
liked him, cherished him even. He'd never considered the Sisters actually liking him. Certainly they were always kind and patient, but he'd always thought them above having mere affection for an individual. How could they "
like
" someone, after all? They were the Sisters. They had the whole League to think of. He considered the notion and blushed. He certainly didn't want to disappoint them. He thought about the Sister who often came to his office, the one with the figure. She seemed to like him a lot.

They giggled as he passed.

Kilos guided him to the Priory Gates, an ornately decorated series of rooms that led to the interior. There, Kilos stopped.

A Sister, his Sister, emerged, and smiling, she took Davage by the arm and led him in.

"You're not coming, Ki?" Dav asked, a little hesitant.

The Sister looked up at him.

"I can't go any further, Dav—I haven't been invited. The Sister says she will take good care of you."

The Sister led him into what appeared to be a grove. She clung to his arm, small and dainty—but strong. He could feel her strength. He had always heard that the Sisters were strong—powerhouses—but he'd never experienced it until now. Davage was strong, and with his Gift of Strength, he was incredibly strong, but he guessed this tiny Sister was far and away stronger than he was.

He looked around. They walked through a vast maze of plants and old, moss-covered stone. He looked up and thought he saw stars… He thought to Sight the area but didn't want to appear rude.

"We are … no longer aboard the ship, are we, Sister?" he asked.

She smiled at him and laced her fingers through his. Davage was holding hands with a Sister. He didn't quite know what to think. He could feel a slight tingle dancing around his head. She was talking to him … speaking in that wonderful empathy, which he couldn't hear. What was she saying, he wondered?

"I am sorry, Sister. I cannot understand you."

She pulled his hat off of his head with her free hand. Then, stopping, she removed her headdress, her hair fell out and she straightened it. Not damp as before, Davage noticed her hair was platinum blonde, almost a brilliant white. She popped his hat on her head. She then pointed at his CARG.

"My CARG, Sister? You wish to see my CARG?"

He unsaddled it and showed it to her. It was a heavy weapon, weighing over seventy pounds. She examined it for a moment and took it from him, its weight not fazing her in the slightest. She felt its length. She noticed it was not bladed; it was smooth to the touch. She was puzzled.

"Not … sword?" she struggled to say.

"No, it's not a sword. It is the family weapon of my line. My father created this particular one."

She went up to a thick old tree and rapped the CARG against its trunk. She then handed it back to him and pointed at the tree.

"You want me to chop the tree down?"

She nodded.

He readjusted the CARG's hilt in his hand and brought the shaft flush against the tree trunk. "Watch carefully, Sister. This is called Sadric's Cut. Just a novelty, really, but is interesting to be sure. I am told that my father once used this cut to impress my mother, who was known for appreciating a fine weapon's stroke."

The Sister watched. Then, in a quick second, he moved the shaft through the thick trunk and reversed, making a thin cross-section of the stump. The tree shuddered, lost a leaf or two, and then stood.

The Sister clapped. Smiling, she pushed the tree over with a flick of her wrist. It toppled in a noisy heap.

She picked up the cross-section, admiring it. Using her finger, she began carving letters into the fresh wood. When she was almost finished, Davage heard a crack from above, like a thunderbolt. The Sister heard it too, looked annoyed, and tossed the cross-section away. Appearing sad, she gave Dav his hat back, donned her headdress, and again took Davage by the hand, leading him away.

Looking back, Davage saw what she had written on the wood. It said, "Please kiss me."

They continued. Ahead was a huge, domed building draped in vine, and scented plants that loomed into the night sky. They went in.