Chapter 5
Aimee crouched in the angle of a tree branch. Marissa, Carmen, and Aria sat with Penelope Ann in a sunny patch of grass on the bank of a stream below her. What were they talking about?
Smoke rose from the fires of the Felsite camp on the plain to the east. No smoke came from the Ursidrean camp. They used some strange technology to cook their food and generate heat to keep themselves warm at night. Emily and Anna explained it all to her, but their explanations went right over Aimee’s head. The Ursidrean technology surpassed anything Aimee ever saw on Earth.
No smoke came from the Avitras on the big rock, either. Anna said the Avitras never ate cooked food, and their feathers kept them warm when temperatures dropped. Aimee shuddered at the thought of them. If Aquilla had his way, all their efforts and hopes would be dashed, and they would go home with nothing, if they were lucky. Their peace negotiations could still end in bloodshed.
In the clearing by the stream, Aria waved her hand, and Penelope Ann nodded. At least they were talking. Those four came to Angondra together, and they’d barely seen each other since. Now, Aria and Carmen had children from their Alpha mates, and Marissa was pregnant. Did they ever dream of going back to Earth? Did they miss their families and their pasts?
Aimee tightened her jacket around her shoulders. The sun inched lower over the Divide toward night, and it would be another cold one. None of the men had negotiated with each other. Only the women came together, and who knew how successful that would be? Aimee would have to ask Marissa what they talked about. Sitting in a tree watching those women in conversation wasn’t accomplishing anything. Aimee shimmied down the tree and set her feet on solid ground.
“What are you doing, spying on them?” The voice made her jump out of her skin. She spun around and found herself face to face with Piwaka.
Aimee covered her heart with her hand. “You scared me.”
He arched his eyebrows. “You didn’t answer my question. What were you doing, spying on those women? They’re supposed to be meeting alone.”
“Marissa asked me to make sure no one interrupted their conversation.” Aimee narrowed her eyes at him. “She was worried someone would take advantage of the situation and maybe try to kidnap one of them the way Aquilla kidnapped Menlo. So what are you doing out here, lurking around?”
“I’m monitoring the well-being of my Alpha’s mate,” he shot back. “What else would I be doing?”
Aimee snorted. “That’s a laugh.”
He shrugged. “I have as much right to take a walk through the woods as you do.”
“I’m their friend,” she pointed out. “You’re Captain of the Guard of....”
“Of what?” he interrupted. “Of the enemy army? Is that what you were about to say?”
“Of course not,” she snapped. “But you’re the Captain of the Guard of the one faction opposed to this peace negotiation. How do I know you didn’t come here to kidnap me or kill me, just to sabotage the negotiation?”
His eyes gave her no rest. She couldn’t hide anything from him. “I don’t have to kidnap you or kill you or anybody else to sabotage this negotiation. This negotiation is dead in the water without me. If I don’t want it to happen, I just have to sit back and let it fail. I’m the only person who can save it.”
She stared at him. “What about Penelope Ann? She can convince Aquilla to go along with it.”
Piwaka shook his head. “He loves her, but he wouldn’t take her advice on a political matter like this. He’s already hostile enough to the whole notion of peace, I would only have to drop a few choice words in his ear and we would be at war with....well, with the Ursidreans for certain, possibly the Felsite, too, and the Lycaon would get dragged into it for good measure.”
“If that’s true,” Aimee asked, “why are you still here? Why don’t you let it fail? Why keep it going?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “I’m here because I want the negotiation to succeed. I want the factions to be at peace, once and for all.”
She blinked. “You do?”
He gazed into the distance. “I’ve seen war. I’ve seen a lot of war. I’ve seen a lot more of war than Aquilla, or anyone else on the Guard, for that matter. I’m finished with war. I’ll do anything to stop it.”
“Then why didn’t you say so when the Avitras confronted us up on the mountain?” she asked. “Why didn’t you tell Aquilla then that you supported us?”
His face bent in a wry smile. “You women have so many noble qualities, but political acuity isn’t one of them. If I had told Aquilla outright I supported your embassy, and that I would do anything in my power to avoid another war—even to the detriment of the Avitras—he would have turned on me. He never would have trusted a word I say, and all our hopes would have been lost.”
“So how can we convince him?” she asked.
“Our only chance,” he replied, “is to let him have his hostilities. You can’t talk him out of them. You have to let them fall away from him naturally. No one can speed up that process, not even Penelope Ann, and anyone who tries will only make him their enemy. I’m the only person who can support Aquilla, who can agree with him and give his hatred and prejudice their full latitude. That’s the only way we’ll get him to change.”
Aimee studied him. He was a lot older than she first realized. His feathers gleamed brighter than any Avitras she’d ever seen—not that she’d seen many. But she’d seen the Guard in formation on the mountain. Not only did Piwaka dwarf them in size and bulk, but his feathers outshone theirs. He was older. He was old enough to be Aquilla’s father.
Still, something drew her to him, something deeper than his appearance. He possessed that magnetic quality of setting everyone around him at ease. That’s what he meant by supporting Aquilla in his hatred and hostility. What better way to convince him than to make him believe they agreed with him?
He noticed her watching him and cocked his head. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She shook herself. “I was just thinking.”
“What were you thinking?” he asked.
“I was wondering if there was anything we could do—I mean us women,” she told him. “We came all this way for peace. There must be something we can do.”
“You’re doing it.” He waved his hand toward the four women on the knoll. “They’re doing it.”
“What are we doing?” she asked. “We haven’t done anything.”
“We wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you,” he told her. “You brought the Ursidreans and the Lycaon together, and now you’re bringing them together with the Felsite. That in itself is something to be proud of.”
Aimee made a face. “Chris and Emily brought the Lycaon together with the Ursidreans, but it was Donen who made the first overture of peace toward Renier. It’s him we should be thanking.”
He put his head on one side. “Do you really think he would have considered making that overture if his mate and Renier’s mate weren’t the same species, and even from the same transport? I’m sure that had something to do with it.”
“That’s not my understanding of events at all,” she returned. “The hostilities between the Felsite and the Ursidreans dragged their factions into two disastrous wars. Donen didn’t want to repeat them, and he even overrode the Ursidreans’ Supreme Council by sending Renier a message of peace.”
Piwaka turned away. “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now, and the three factions are prepared to work together to convince Aquilla.”
“From what you say, though,” she pointed out, “none of us will have as much influence on him as you. Maybe it would be better if we weren’t here.”
He pointed at her. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. It was your friend Anna who originally convinced me to take this step. She convinced me to go against Aquilla’s express orders to free Menlo. If I hadn’t done that, none of us would be here now. The Ursidreans would be arming for war to avenge Menlo’s death.”
She thought that over. Then she nodded. “She’s not my friend.”
His head shot up. “What?”
“Anna,” she replied. “She’s not my friend. She’s my cousin.”
He opened his mouth. Then he shut it. Then he laughed. “My mistake.”
She glanced down the hill. The sun slanted over the Divide and struck the Ursidrean battle machines. “I better get back. They’ll be wondering where I am.”
He didn’t seem to hear. “Why are you here?”
Her head whipped around. “What?”
“Why are you here?” he repeated. “All the others are mated with someone involved in the negotiation, but you’re not. So far as I can tell, you’re the one person totally unconnected to this whole process.”
“I suppose I came to support my cousins and my friends,” she replied.
Piwaka shook his head. “That can’t be the reason. Emily traveled over three factions’ territory to find her cousins, and in the process, she brought news to all three of them that they were ripe for peace. Anna confronted Aquilla with his own reckless policy of capturing an innocent Ursidrean and holding him hostage in revenge for something that essentially never happened. She succeeded, and then she left with Menlo to join the Ursidreans. Even Aria started with the Felsite and went to the Ursidreans to mate with Donen.”
“So what’s that got to do with me?” she asked.
“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” he replied. “It doesn’t. You don’t have anything to do with this process. Even Chris was instrumental in taking Emily across the Lycaon border in search of her sisters and you. What have you done? You’ve been a warrior with the Lycaon since they rescued you from the Romarie crash. What part do you play in all this?”
“Can’t I just be here to help my friends?” she asked. “Do I have to be part of it?”
“You are part of it,” he told her. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have traveled all the way here to put yourself in the line of fire with a hostile faction. I just can’t figure out what part you do play in all this.”
“Don’t break your head over it,” she growled. “When Turk told us the Ursidreans and the Felsite were meeting to negotiate peace with Aquilla, he said all the other women were coming along in the hopes that they could help sway the men in favor of peace. He suggested we all come to tip the balance.”
He peered into her eyes. “So that’s why you came?”
She shrugged. “That, and the possibility of seeing my cousins and my friends again. That’s as complicated as it gets.”
He knit his eyebrows. “Are you sure?”
Now she laughed at him. “Quite sure. Don’t think too much. You’ll give yourself an aneurism.”
He frowned. “A what?”
She turned away. “Forget it. I have to go. I’ll see you later.”
He called after her. “That’s not the reason.”
She stopped walking and glanced at him over her shoulder. “What is the reason, then? If you know so much, why don’t you tell me the reason?”
He stayed where he was. “I don’t know the reason, but I’m quite certain that isn’t it.”
She rounded him. “You must have some idea.”
“I told you I don’t know the reason,” he replied, “but it can’t be that. Supporting your cousins and your friends is too shallow a reason. I’ve seen enough of life to trust my instincts, and the real reason is something much deeper. Something tells me you’re the lynchpin on which this whole process rests. You’ll be the one to bring this negotiation to fruition, not any of the others.”
She gestured toward the four friends sitting together in the fading sunlight. “What about them? Are you telling me they don’t have anything to do with this?”
“They certainly have something to do with it,” he replied. “But you’ll be the hammer that drives the last spike home. You’ll be the one to seal the deal and deliver all these factions from the danger of future war.”
“And what about the Aqinas?” she asked. “They aren’t even part of this negotiation. How am I going to deliver them?”
He smiled. “Ah, the Aqinas. You’re the first person I’ve heard mention them.”
“Do you have any plan to include them in this negotiation?” she asked.
“Plan?” he repeated. “I have no plan. This negotiation belongs to you and your friends. It has nothing to do with me.”
Aimee smacked her lips. “Of course it has something to do with you. You just said you could make it succeed or fail as you please. It has more to do with you than it does with me.”
He shook his head. “You’ll see I’m right.”
She glared at him. “I’ll see you know more about me than I know about myself. I can’t wait.” She spun on her heel and set off down the hill.
She didn’t think about him, and she didn’t realize he was following her until he spoke to her again. “Tell your friends they can do more in their own factions than they can by talking to Penelope Ann.”
She spun around and confronted him. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do you think you’ll make an ally of me by speaking in riddles?”
“The more they talk to Penelope Ann,” he told her, “the more they’ll alienate Aquilla from their purpose. The more he sees them trying to win her over, the more he’ll mistrust them and her. They would do better to work on their own mates.”
“Their own mates aren’t hostile to peace,” she pointed out. “Aquilla is the one Alpha standing in the way of complete planetary peace.”
Piwaka shook his head. “Don’t believe it. You won’t make peace by overcoming Aquilla’s hatred. Do you think his intransigence could stop these men from fighting each other if they wanted to? Think about it.”
Dread crept into Aimee’s heart. She stared at him, but a distant nightmare played out before her eyes. “What are you saying?”
“Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that these men do make peace,” he told her. “Let’s say they all embrace and go home in perfect harmony. What then?”
“What do you mean, what then?” she asked. “They’ll live the rest of their lives in security and safety, and their women and children won’t have to worry about random invasions and attacks from other factions. What else could possibly happen?”
“You’re a Lycaon warrior,” he pointed out. “Do you really think Caleb will disband the warriors and send them all back to their villages? Do you think Donen will decommission the border patrols and withdraw them all to the city? Of course not. The border patrols will continue. The warriors will continue to train.”
“Are you saying nothing will change?” she asked.
“I’m saying there’s a lot more blocking the factions from achieving true peace than Aquilla’s intransigence. You’re not likely to get him to embrace these men and go home in perfect harmony, but even if he did, there would still be a lot of work to do before you get true peace.”
“So what do you propose?” she asked. “That we all throw up our hands and quit? Are you suggesting we shouldn’t even try to negotiate peace?”
“Of course not,” he replied. “I’m just telling you to warn your friends. They should talk to their own men and work between themselves and concentrate less on Aquilla and Penelope Ann. They would accomplish more.”
Aimee lowered her eyes. His words stung, but he was right. He saw a lot farther and more clearly than anyone else. How would she pass his message on to her friends, though? She blushed at the thought of returning to camp and telling them she’d met him in the woods.
Why did she blush? All they’d done was talk, and he was old enough to be her own father, too. Why was she even thinking about him that way?
He startled her by speaking directly into her ear. How did he get that close to her without her noticing? “One thing is certain, though, Aimee. You can do this negotiation more good than you realize by carrying my message to your friends. You might be the only person here who can do that.”
She looked up into his face, but when she noticed his eyes hovering so close to her, her mind went into a tailspin. She stammered out the first words that popped into her mind. “Why is that?”
“Because you’re not attached to anybody else. That’s why,” he replied. “Only the human women are truly neutral in this negotiation, but all the other women here belong to some man from the various factions. That means they belong to those factions, too.”
“It doesn’t make them not neutral,” she pointed out. “Look at Anna, or Emily. They might belong to the Ursidreans, but they’ve been in contact with the other factions enough to stand between them.”
He shook his head. “These women only truly settled on Angondra when they mated with the men in their lives. Look at Anna. She traveled to two other factions and never found a home and family for herself until she mated with Menlo. That’s the way it works. None of you can truly take your place as members of our people until you meet and mate with an Angondran man.”
“So are you saying I’m not Angondran?” she asked. “I’m Lycaon. I always have been.”
“You can’t be Lycaon,” he replied. “You might be a warrior, but you haven’t made the Lycaon your true home and faction. If you had, you would have found a mate among the warriors. Angondra is dangerously low on females. I’m sure there are countless Lycaon men who would love to mate with you. You’re so beautiful and young and healthy.”
She blushed again. Why hadn’t she let herself fall for one of her warrior companions? Why had she found fulfillment in a sexless existence running through the woods?
A part of herself she’d never acknowledged rose up inside her and confronted her for the first time. Stirrings she couldn’t contain threatened to break through her carefully constructed facade. Every instinct screamed at her to run, to run as far away from this man as she could. She would run until that part of herself fell beneath the surface, never to rise again.
He didn’t wait for her to answer. Did he realize the effect his words had on her? “You haven’t fully joined any faction, Aimee. You’re the one person on this mountain who remains truly neutral. You can give my message to your friends. You can act as a go-between between me and the others.”
Her voice came out as a whisper. “And what about Aquilla?”
“I’ll handle Aquilla the same way you’ll handle your people down there,” he replied. “He trusts me the way your friends trust you. We can work together to make this peace agreement a reality.”
She didn’t notice when he vanished into the trees. When she shook herself and looked around, she was halfway down the mountain and Piwaka was nowhere nearby. She frowned. What had he done to her?
The sun dropped below the mountain, and the Ursidrean and Felsite camps fell into shadow. Only the Avitras remained in the sunshine up on the Divide. Aimee set off down the mountain with Piwaka’s words buzzing through her head.