Chapter Twenty-Seven

Grim faces surrounded Rast as he reported his findings.

“There are four more of them and they have T’lik. They also know there’s no response from the tower and they sent someone to investigate, as well as calling the other guards to tell them to keep watch.”

“I can take care of the gate guards,” Kanithe said confidently.

“Let me take the one they’re sending to the tower,” Grabon said. “I can fly up and intercept him.”

“Are you sure? They said the storm’s getting worse.”

“They call this a storm? On Dhalgroll this would just be a gentle breeze.”

Rast and Athtar exchanged glances, then Athtar nodded. “Go, both of you. But be back as fast as you can.”

They both left at a run, using the kitchen courtyard to avoid the chance of running into the Derians.

“What about T’lik?” Deb asked anxiously. Even as she spoke, a low-pitched cry echoed through the hallway and they all flinched.

“We’re going after her now,” he promised. “If we wait, we’ll only give them time to find the other bodies.”

She looked at the four of them and bit her lip. “Take Studoc with you. That will help even out the numbers.”

“I’m not leaving you unprotected,” he growled.

“I’ll hide in the tunnel with Saleen. We’ll be fine.”

Every instinct protested, but she was right. It would help to have Studoc with them and she should be safe in the tunnels. He looked at Ultana, but she raised her eyebrows.

“Don’t even suggest it. I’m not great at close fighting but I’m a hell of a shot. I’m coming with you.”

He didn’t bother arguing and turned to the other two women. “Open the panel, Saleen. I want you in that tunnel before we leave, Deb. And stay there until I come for you.”

“I will,” she promised, already standing next to Saleen as the girl found the release. It took more willpower than he expected to watch her move into the darkness with only the young girl at her side. As the panel closed again, she called softly, “I love you, my prince.”

The door closed before he could reply. He fought down the lump in his throat and turned to the others. “Let’s go.”

They moved quickly and quietly down the corridor, and he prayed that they would have surprise on their side this time as well. As they approached the door, he crouched and moved ahead far enough to see the room. T’lik was bent over a table, one slender arm obviously broken. Crazzuk stood to one side, his pants unfastened, while Thrull leaned over her with his fist raised. Fury roared through him so quickly that he forgot his promise to Deb. He raised his blaster, determined to kill the Derian, but his prayers didn’t work. The man who’d been tossing the knife looked up and saw him. The knife flew from his fingers with lightning speed. Rast ducked and the knife missed but it threw off his shot and he hit Thrull’s leg instead of his heart. The room exploded into chaos.

Deb followed Saleen down the tunnel. A faint luminescence from the moss lining the walls provided enough light to see where they were going. The path wound steadily downward and she shivered as the air cooled, her damp gown adding to the chill. At last Saleen paused before a section of the wall and knocked three times. A single knock came from the other side and the girl sighed with relief as she opened the panel.

Inside was a large cavern with an arched ceiling but it was filled with a surprising number of people. She recognized most of them from her work with Marious. Sleeping pallets lined the walls but no one was sleeping. As soon as they saw her, they rushed over, filled with anxious questions.

“What’s happening?” Ha’rek, the chief laundress, thrust her way forward. She was a large woman with a tentacled lower body and an uncanny resemblance to the Sea Witch from the Little Mermaid. “Did the prince return with you?”

“Yes. He and the other members of the crew are trying to retake the palace now.”

“Crew? Did he bring the fleet with him?” Fastod asked eagerly. He was one of the few Sheraens present, but she wasn’t surprised that he was there. He was courting one of the junior chefs and wouldn’t have abandoned her.

“I’m afraid that wasn’t possible. But we came back as quickly as we could.”

“You mean the prince is up there with just that freighter crew?”

“Yes.” Despite her best efforts, her eyes filled with tears. “But they’re very brave. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

Ha’rek put an arm around her shoulders, then turned to face the others. “This isn’t right. Prince Rastrath is up there fighting for us while we cower here in the cellars. We should be helping him, not hiding.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the crowd. She couldn’t help being pleased that they wanted to help but none of them were warriors.

“You don’t know what the Derians are like,” she whispered to Ha’rek. “They’re not much more than brutal animals.”

“Bullies are always like that,” Ha’rek said softly, then turned to the crowd. “I’m willing to fight for Sherae. Is anyone going to join me?”

A roar of approval answered her words.

“You don’t have to,” Deb said quickly. “They’re trained fighters and I know you’re not. There’s no shame in staying here.”

A muttered discussion took place, but in the end, about a third of the group decided to accompany Ha’rek and Deb. To Deb’s dismay, Saleen was one of them.

“Why don’t you stay here?” she asked gently.

“T’lik is my friend. I want to help.” Her cheeks turned rosy. “And that nice warrior. He’s up there, too.”

Deb sighed but didn’t try to dissuade her again. Fully aware that she was breaking her promise to Rast, she and Saleen led the group back through the tunnels. Ha’rek used the time to suggest items from the laundry to be used as weapons. While Deb had no doubt that the woman was a formidable enemy with a wooden laundry paddle, she couldn’t help but doubt its effectiveness against a bullet.

As soon as they emerged into the steam room, they could hear the sounds of battle. Deb started to rush forward but Ha’rek grabbed her. “Stay here,” she ordered. “You can’t risk the life of your child as well as your own.”

A scream rang out and Deb flinched. “I’ll stay here, but please. Go help them.”

With a determined nod, Ha’rek grabbed her paddle and headed for the door. The others picked up various other implements and followed her, even Saleen. The noise increased immediately, startled yells mixing with blood-curdling cries from her band of slaves. Unable to help herself, she inched toward the door. The noise suddenly died down and her heart started to pound. Praying that the silence was a good thing, she crept out into the main laundry room and took a cautious glance into the hallway.

Rast was coming toward her. He had blood on his hands, but she didn’t see any other sign of damage. With a glad cry, she raced toward him. He met her halfway, picking her up in his arms and twirling her around. “It’s over. Everyone is safe.”

She barely had time for a relieved sigh before he covered her mouth with his, kissing her fiercely as she melted against him. The sound of cheering finally penetrated as he lifted his head. They were surrounded by the crew and the group from the cellar. She could see the signs of damage—Ultana was bleeding profusely from a head wound, one of Birgraz’s arms hung awkwardly but his other was firmly around Saleen, and there were various other wounds—but everyone was smiling.

“Your support troops won the day,” Rast said quietly. “It turned out that there was yet another Derian that we missed so we were under attack from both sides. This lady was gracious enough to take care of him for us.” He nodded at Ha’rek who swung her paddle proudly. Deb quickly diverted her eyes from the bloody mess covering the end of it.

The crowd’s jubilance died down suddenly, and Deb looked up to see Athtar carefully helping T’lik toward them. One of her arms was obviously broken and Deb rushed over to her.

“Oh, T’lik. I’m so sorry.”

“It was not your fault, mistress.” Her mandibles waved gently. “Thank you for returning for us.”

“But your poor arm…”

T’lik gave a little chittering laugh. “I heal quickly. And I do have three other arms. I will return to your service before the child is born.”

Deb leaned forward and hugged her as gently as possible. After a surprised moment, three arms returned the hug.

“Where’s the doctor?” Rast demanded.

“I have sent for him, Your Highness.”

Deb recognized the quiet voice and turned to find Marious standing beside them. Up close, he looked even worse than he had on the view screen in the ship, but he stood proudly. More tears filled her eyes and she couldn’t speak. Rast spoke up instead.

“Thank you, Marious. I don’t know what would have happened without your cool head and fast thinking. No Royal House has ever had a worthier steward.”

Marious’s fins flared and he bowed deeply.

“Thank you, Your Highness. I could not ask for a better Sheraen to serve.”

The tears were coming non-stop now and Rast picked her and cradled her against his chest just as the doctor appeared.

“Dr. Mako, I know you will take care of everyone here,” Rast said. “But if you will excuse me, I’m going to take my consort to bed.”

“Where you will let her sleep,” the doctor said firmly.

Everyone laughed and she could feel her cheeks heating, but she tucked her head against Rast’s neck as he walked away. The tension of the past week had lifted, and she was suddenly exhausted. She yawned and Rast laughed, sounding as carefree as she felt.

“I suspect I won’t have any choice but to follow the doctor’s orders.”

“Mm. If you insist.” She yawned again and snuggled closer.

“Go to sleep, my love. All is well.” His words floated over her and she smiled as she drifted off to sleep.