CHAPTER TEN
“You’ll make sure she comes to no harm? Ensure they understand she’s a complete innocent in all of this? A victim?”
Fuzzily, Miriell heard Conor asking desperate questions of someone. She tried to blink her eyes open, but for a moment, her entire body was paralyzed, weakened by the massive energy drain it’d taken to kill the Mawreg.
“I give you my word.” The voice was deep and melodic, musical.
She felt Conor kiss her forehead and move away. Fear for him gave her the power to open her eyes and reach for him, catching his hand. “Wait, don’t leave me.”
He knelt, taking her into his arms. “I have to go, sweetheart, but only for a time, I swear. Lady Glennit will take care of you.”
You’ve done exceedingly well, Priestess-Sister.
The melodic voice was in her head now, speaking to her in her own language. Confused, Miriell put a hand to her forehead and tried to figure out what had happened and where she was. Outside the Mawreg ship obviously, surrounded by soldiers with drawn blasters. Next to her on the ground sat the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen, clad in purple robes, with shimmering black hair and eyes of deep lavender blue. This personage was so stunning, so resonant with power that, for a moment, Miriell thought she was having a vision.
Two men in uniform stood behind Conor, with two others close by, blasters aimed at him. Now the closest soldier reached for him. “Time’s up, buddy. You’re under arrest.”
No, this was wrong. Don’t they understand he’s a police officer? One of them? As he was pulled away, unresisting, and cuffed, she struggled to her feet, the unknown female assisting her. “Stop, you’re making a mistake—”
“Be at peace,” Lady Glennit said. “The soldiers do what they must. He’ll come to no harm.” Her voice spoke privately inside Miriell’s mind, again in the soft cadences of Tulavarra. It’s part of their process, these cautious humans. The authorities must protect his identity for now, until we reach the SCIA facility. I insisted he be allowed to remain at your side until you awoke, but now the period of grace has ended.
Angry at the way her man was being treated, Miriell gathered what shreds of power remained to her, intending to stop this farce.
Suddenly, she was swathed in an invisible blanket of power, warm, soothing, but trapping her and her abilities in its folds. To her senses, the blanket was a rich purple trimmed in the brilliant gold of those who rule and threaded through with the blue fire of true warriors. Struggle as she might, she couldn’t do anything but stand next to the woman who effortlessly wove the net around her and watch as Conor was hustled away, thrust into a groundcar and vanished from view as the vehicle sped away.
It was almost too much on top of all that she’d endured. Miriell swayed, tempted to fall to her knees and weep, but she refused to give in to her grief in front of all these strangers. In front of this powerful Lady Glennit. She straightened her spine, calling on Thuun for strength. Conor would expect her to be strong for him. “The Mawreg is dead?”
Glennit nodded. “You defeated the abomination.” We will not explain the mechanism to the humans, Priestess-Sister. Better for you if the Sectors remain unaware of the scope of your powers, as you must live among their people.
“With Conor’s help. We are warrior and priestess, a team.” She refused to claim all the credit. “He doesn’t deserve to be made a prisoner, to be ill-treated.”
“He will come to no harm.”
“My lady, we should be going.” A soldier approached them, saluting Glennit.
“If you intend on putting Conor with the other Combine prisoners, you need to know he was partially exposed as a traitor right before the attack,” Miriell said, searching her mind for any slightest way to help him. “Don’t let the Amarotu have access to him.”
“He’ll be kept separate, but your concern for him does you credit.” Glennit touched her arm, and the terrifying sensation of being in a net vanished. “I have things to be seen to here on the planet, but the soldiers will escort you to my ship in orbit. I’ll join you soon, and we can talk. You will be our honored guest, Priestess-Sister. This is Captain Kennear. He’s been assigned to act as your liaison when I’m not available. He’ll see to your needs and comfort.”
“Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”
Miriell assessed the soldier. He was young, handsome in a rough-hewn style, with pale green eyes that, in the way of hardened warriors, had seen too much. She wished she could toss a tendril of her power at him, read his inner self, but even though she no longer felt cocooned by Glennit’s power, neither could she exercise her own. Clearly, some prohibitive effect lingered on the psychic plane. “You may call me Miriell, if you wish.”
“Yes, ma’am. If you’d come this way, please, we’ll get you to the shuttle and up to the ship in no time.”
“We’ll meet again soon, you have my word,” Lady Glennit said. “I’ll do my best to answer your myriad questions.”
Miriell stopped walking, forcing the soldier to pause as well. “I have only one. When can I see Conor?”
“The time will come.”
With that vague answer, the lady turned away and walked with several soldiers toward the Mawreg ship.
Captain Kennear touched her elbow. “Ma’am? Word of advice, if I may? She’s a Mellurean, and her kind don’t like to be pestered with questions. She’s one of the people in charge of this entire operation, but she’s genuinely operating in your best interests, word of an officer. The fact she’s taken a personal interest in you has been duly noted by everyone above my pay grade, trust me.” He leaned closer, a friendly smile on his face. “You’ve got the golden token.”
“Golden token?”
“Pretty much anything you want. No one’s going to mess with someone the Mellureans protect.”
Miriell sighed. “This is all quite confusing, Captain. Up until a few hours ago, I was a prisoner of the Combine, and I have to tell you, I still feel like a captive. Better conditions perhaps, but nothing approaching freedom. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful to be safe from the Amarotu, but—”
“Take it in stages,” he said. “Events are driving you right now, not the other way around.”
Feeling as if she was whining, she made one last protest. “I expected to be able to do what I wanted when I was finally free, to go where I chose, to be with Conor.”
“I understand, ma’am, but right now none of what you’re asking for is possible.” His refusal was delivered in a calm tone, but brooked no argument or appeal. “My team and I’ll do our best to make your stay with us comfortable while this Amarotu operation is wrapped up. Until the Mellureans release you from protective custody. Now if we could proceed to the shuttle as ordered, I’d be most appreciative. I’m thinking you need some medical attention as well, from those cuts and bruises.”
Acquiescing because she had no choice, no matter how pleasant he was being, she allowed him to lead her to the waiting craft. She paused at the foot of the ramp, taking a last look at the desolate landscape, which matched her bleak mood. So much has changed for me in a few short days, yet remained the same. Thuun, keep me from falling into despair. And watch over Conor.
Her hosts gave her a roomy cabin, including access to vids, games, entertainment and fresh clothing, inquired as to her food preferences and attended to her trifling wounds. Captain Kennear hovered constantly the first few days, apparently planning to check in on her every morning to share a coffee over breakfast. At her request, he assigned a young lieutenant to tutor her in written Basic and provided trideos on the culture and history of the Sectors. It was her understanding the ship was a military vessel, on loan to the SCIA for this massive takedown operation.
All the personnel she encountered were kind and solicitous—and completely blank-faced when she asked any question about Conor, or when she herself would be free.
Lady Glennit kept her promise, meeting with Miriell a few days later in her own cabin, which was three times bigger and much more luxurious. Stewards brought coffee and small pastries, and Miriell was invited to sit on a comfortable couch next to the Mellurean. Once the servants and the soldiers escorting her left the room, Glennit said, “How are you faring? Is everything to your liking?”
Stubbornness woven through the fibers of her being, like steel reinforcements for her resolve, she said, “I need to see Conor, even for a few moments. Please.”
“This is not possible, Priestess-Sister. He’s no longer imprisoned, but he must testify about the things he witnessed and did during the five years he was undercover. The humans want no contact between the two of you during this time. Those in charge don’t want any questions of collusion or influence. You and their agent became too close for the SCIA’s comfort.”
“I never used my abilities against him.” Her protest was instant and angry.
Glennit patted her hand. “I believe you. It’s part of the humans’ justice process, and we of Mellure have a treaty with them stating we won’t interfere. If it goes on too long, I’ll step in. But the SCIA also needs your testimony about your time as a prisoner of the Amarotu and, again, want no suggestion that you’ve coordinated your statements with him.”
“But they don’t care if I coordinate with you.” Miriell picked up her coffee, which she’d developed a taste for, and sipped.
“Tell them anything you please.” Glennit wasn’t discomfited. “Except how you killed the Mawreg. Right now, the agents believe you and Conor used a combination of his blaster and your psychic abilities, perhaps augmented by myself during the final assault. Conor did destroy several Mawreg offensive robots during the battle, as well as a few Chimmer inside the Mawreg ship.”
Miriell hadn’t known that. Probably while I was dueling with the Mawreg itself. He saved my life yet again.
Glennit selected a frosted cupcake and transferred it to her plate. “The Amarotu survivors are trying to describe how you killed Opherra, but the humans aren’t finding it believable. My advice to you again is to keep the full breadth of your powers to yourself. We’re getting you Sectors citizenship and making you an official Mellurean affiliate, which will protect you going forward.”
“The golden token.”
“What?”
“Captain Kennear said to be in favor with your people was a golden token.”
Glennit laughed. “I suppose to the humans it is. We rarely extend our protection and favor in any form outside our own ranks, but it’s not unheard of.”
“Could you have killed the Mawreg?”
Dusting crumbs delicately from her fingers, the lady nodded. “Oh yes. Part of why I was with the assault forces was to accomplish that specific task, should we encounter a Mawreg, but you saved me the trouble. The authorities will be meeting with you the day after tomorrow to get the details of your captivity.”
Troubled, Miriell set her cup on the elegant, gilt-edged saucer. “During my imprisonment, I was forced to commit acts of which I’m not proud. I did my best to thwart what the Combine wanted, but to save my own people, who were held hostage, I used my powers to perform some dark deeds. I even killed several times at their command. I was told the victims were Combine members, but I have no way to verify that. Conor said this would be understood by the SCIA.”
Glennit nodded. “You’ve been given blanket immunity, backed by my command to treat you as if you were a Mellurean citizen. You can tell the SCIA the entire tale, and there will be no repercussions. This I swear. Your knowledge will be used to build the legal case and to trace down other threads of this evil infestation. Nothing more.” She looked kindly at Miriell. “Tell them you’re an empath with the ability to focus a narrow beam on a person, but only under the right conditions.”
“Thank you for the advice.”
“Captain Kennear will be with you at all times during the questioning, and I’ve instructed him to notify me if he has any concerns about the direction of the inquiries. Under no circumstances is the SCIA allowed to talk to you without him present. Is there anything else I can do to make your stay with us more pleasant?” Glennit raised a hand and quirked one eyebrow. “Leaving out your desire to see the man you know as Conor.” Her demeanor was kind, but she had the air of someone who was busy and considered the meeting to be complete.
“There is one thing.” Miriell swallowed hard. She hated to reveal her secrets to anyone, but she was already feeling the effects of being in a spaceship, totally detached from any living planet. “I require access to a garden of some sort. Conor told me the larger spaceships have such a thing. Plants growing in water? Might I be allowed to spend time there each day?”
Glennit surveyed her. “Indeed. This ship is one of the largest in the Sectors’ fleet, and it not only has a hydroponic garden for supplying fresh vegetables and spices and other such consumables to the kitchens, there is an elegant public garden in the recreational area. Would an hour a day suffice?”
“That would be wonderful.” Relief flooded over her.
“Captain Kennear will arrange it, beginning tomorrow.”
Miriell tried to focus on the deserted garden, which was off-limits to everyone else on the ship while she sat there, but today the plant life wasn’t comforting. Loneliness for Conor and uncertainty about their future ate at her nerves. She felt badly about inconveniencing all the other sentients, but the decision hadn’t been up to her. The good captain sat with his personal AI, working away on a bench close by. She’d been here eight times now and found she could indeed draw enough sustenance from the lush trees and flowers to keep herself going. She had to sip, rather than fully satisfy her hunger for the psychic energy, but it would do. Depending on how long she was kept here, she might have to ask for a daily visit to the other kind of garden as well.
Experimentally, she hummed a favorite song but felt no rise in power and no joy in her heart.
“Beautiful music-making, ma’am,” the captain said, staring at her, wide-eyed.
“Sorry to disturb you.”
“No, I enjoyed the song. Lyrical and haunting.” He shut off his AI and came to sit on the bench next to her.
She was afraid Captain Kennear might become a problem. He gave every sign of growing rather taken with her, not in an offensive way, but he’d lingered over morning coffee in the last few days, as if he enjoyed her company a bit too much. He’d been a fierce protector for her during the SCIA questioning, insisting on breaks and once or twice calling Lady Glennit to shut off some line of inquiry he felt was going astray. He was considerate of her wishes and her comfort. She liked him—he had a good sense of humor, he was patient and he explained the intricacies of life in the Sectors with a blunt directness she found refreshing. But her heart was Conor’s. I don’t want to lead this man on. If only Lady Glennit hadn’t leashed her powers, Miriell would have easily and unobtrusively turned his growing interest in her aside, with Kennear never realizing why his incipient attraction faded.
She was opening her mouth to begin the difficult conversation she felt they had to have when she realized Lady Glennit stood on the path at the entrance to this secluded spot, having arrived with no warning. Miriell jumped to her feet. “Is there some word of Conor? Can I see him today?”
Shaking her head regretfully, but with a smile, Glennit said, “He continues to provide his testimony. He was there in the heart of the Combine for five years, Priestess-Sister. He has much to tell, and then the investigators will ask the questions in different ways, explore new avenues of investigation.”
Miriell sat on the bench again with a thump. “Yes, I experienced their tenacity and repetitious interrogations myself.” She mimicked the head agent’s nasal tone. “Tell us again, Miss Miriell, how you did this or that, never mind you told us three times already. Now can you describe the whole sequence in reverse order?”
Captain Kennear turned a laugh into a not very convincing cough.
“I think the interrogators hope to catch me contradicting myself.”
“Perhaps. The truth always serves in the end.” Glennit inspected the soldier as if she was going to take him to task for some deficiency. “You may withdraw, Captain, while I chat with Miriell.”
He saluted and strode off down the path without another word. The Mellurean watched him for a moment, brows drawn together in a slight frown.
Miriell was staring at Glennit, who was practically glowing, serene, majestic—almost like a vision again. Her purple skirts brushed the path, and Miriell had the uneasy thought that she was floating. “Are you real? Or are you a goddess? A sister of Thuun perhaps?”
Undismayed by the question, Glennit said, “I might be. One has been many things over the eons, although I don’t remember Thuun. Why do you ask?”
Miriell gestured vaguely. “You’re too perfect, too glorious.”
Laughing, Glennit stared down at herself, waved a hand and changed in some indefinable way that Miriell would never be able to explain. “Better?” As if she’d been reading Miriell’s mind, she stuck one sandaled foot out from beneath her skirt, showing off her polished toenails and the scuffed heel of the shoe. “More realistic?” The Mellurean sat beside Miriell. “The humans don’t notice, but I should have expected that you’d catch the nuances. Shall we say a Mellurean has many aspects, depending on the situation and the needs of the moment? But I don’t function as a goddess to these people. Just a well-respected, somewhat-feared member of an overwhelmingly powerful elder race.”
“Why are you keeping my powers leashed?”
“You are full of questions today, Priestess-Sister.”
“I give you my word as a priestess of Thuun that I won’t use them.” Miriell wriggled her shoulders and fidgeted on the bench, seeking the right words. “It’s uncomfortable to feel boxed in.”
“I imagine so, but until you’re cleared to leave—until Conor is cleared to leave—you’re not to use your abilities. I try to make the restriction as lightweight as possible.” Glennit patted her arm. “I have two pieces of news, one good and one…not. Which do you prefer first?”
“If it doesn’t concern Conor, I don’t much care.” She knew she sounded grumpy, but this constant harping on the need to keep them separated annoyed her. And frightens me. What if I’m never allowed to see him again, despite all of Glennit’s assurances?
“All right, then, the sad news is we still can’t locate your homeworld. The Shemdylann ship was too badly damaged by the bombardment during the attack, and the data banks are corrupted. We’ve never had a Mawreg ship to study before, so we may find the coordinates there at some point.” She leaned in closer, as if to share a secret. “Usually, the humans blow them up, no questions asked, because the Mawreg terrify them so, with good reason. You’re also getting a lot of credit for capturing a ship to be studied. But for now, I must report defeat on the issue of finding your planet.”
“You sound as if you’d been searching for a while.”
“Which brings me to the good news. Your sister, Tyrelle, is alive and quite well.”
Miriell couldn’t believe her ears. Tears flooding her eyes, she grabbed Glennit’s arm. “Are you sure? How? I mean, the entire Combine complex was destroyed, or so we were told. Did anyone else survive?”
Glennit gave her a hug. “It’s a long story, but through some unusual coincidences, your sister was able to assist the SCIA. The end result was the Combine branch holding the two of you as slaves was brought down. No other individual from your planet was present at the complex at the time, other than Tyrelle herself. I’m sorry to report that.”
“Can I see her?”
“She’s not in this Sector, as it happens, but I’m sure the two of you will be reunited in due time. As you’re learning, the Sectors government moves slowly and the SCIA more deliberately than most organizations.”
Miriell had figured that out, all right. “And I suppose the SCIA doesn’t want me to have too much detail in my head about Tyrelle’s accomplishment right now either? I’m beginning to dislike these authorities, even if their forces did rescue me.”
Captain Kennear was more distant the next morning at coffee, less inclined to chat and didn’t linger for a second cup. Miriell was relieved. Perhaps I was imagining his interest. Perhaps I’ve become too conceited about my own charms. It was going to be a difficult conversation with him. Still, as she prepared for her morning tutoring session with whichever of the two lieutenants would show up, she wondered if Glennit had reprimanded him. The Mellurean had taken an unusual interest in him that day in the garden.
The pattern continued for a few days, with Kennear being polite and correct but impersonal. He still came for the coffee, and he escorted her to the garden as before, but the conversation was limited and stilted. Miriell regretted the change but felt it was for the best.
She grew increasingly restive at this new version of captivity. Conditions were so much improved from what she’d endured in the slave cells, or even while she was at Opherra’s beck and call, but she was still a prisoner, Kennear her guard. Glennit’s restriction keeping her from using her own power, not even the tiniest tendril, for anything other than pulling energy from the plants in the garden, left Miriell uneasy, her nerves on edge.
And always there was the question of Conor. What was happening to him? How was he? Was he thinking of her?
On the fourteenth day, Kennear showed up at her cabin door unexpectedly in the middle of the afternoon. She let him in and asked, “Is something wrong? It’s not time for our trip to the garden, and I thought I was done answering questions. Has the SCIA thought of new topics?”
He rubbed his hand over his close-cropped blond hair and swallowed hard. “I want to apologize if I was making you uncomfortable. I never met anyone like you, and I felt this amazing attraction—”
“Captain—”
He raised his hand to stop her instinctive response. “I knew it was crazy. I knew there wasn’t a hope in the seven hells that you might be interested in me. You’ve made it clear from the first moment that this Conor guy is it for you.”
“Yes, he is. Did Lady Glennit talk to you?”
“No, she didn’t have to. It was pretty obvious to me that you and I could be friends maybe, if we’d met another way, but now, not more than that.”
“I count you as a friend,” she said, relieved he’d managed to conquer his own misguided attraction to her. “You’ve been so helpful, so kind.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to do one more thing for you, and then tomorrow, I’m asking for reassignment, Miriell. That’ll be better for both of us.” He shuffled his feet and hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say any more. Straightening his shoulders, he used a brisk, matter-of-fact tone to hide whatever emotions he felt. “If you come with me right this minute, I can get you somewhere where you can have a glimpse of Conor.”
Delighted, she gave him a big hug.
He hugged her for a brief moment and stepped away. “But you can’t say a word, and if you ever tell anyone I did this, I’ll be court-martialed.”
“No, of course not. Oh, but I’ll owe you a huge debt of gratitude.”
He nodded. “Come on, then.”
They left her cabin and went deep into the ship’s corridors into territory she’d never seen before. She hoped it wasn’t a mistake to trust Kennear, and she was frustrated that she couldn’t let her power read his motives, but she felt safe enough. Once they’d reached a bridge spanning other passageways crisscrossing below, Kennear held her back when she would have started across. Finger to his lips, he whispered, “The SCIA is taking him for another round of questioning, and the escort will walk on that concourse right below us, okay?”
She nodded and hid behind the column as much as she could, peeking around the edge. Voices and footsteps sounded from below, and Conor walked into her field of vision in the center of a group of men and women. His hair was now close-cropped, and he was thinner than she remembered, with shadows under his eyes, but he was wearing a uniform like his companions and was unrestrained. He chatted easily with the people escorting him, obviously on good terms with several of them, laughing over some shared joke. Miriell had to bite her lip to keep from calling his name, and she refused to blink and miss a moment of this unexpected, if long-distance, encounter. As the group prepared to leave the walkway and enter the next area of the spaceship, Conor glanced over his shoulder in her direction, and a small smile flickered on his lips. Then he was gone.
“Yeah, I might have gotten someone I trust to slip the word to him that this was a special bridge today.” Kennear sounded amused. “How are you doing, Priestess?”
She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Blessings of Thuun be upon you, Captain! No one has ever done such a wonderful thing for me, not since I was taken prisoner by the Shemdylann.”
“Consider it my parting gift, ma’am. Let me escort you back to your cabin, and then I’ll say goodbye. It’s been an honor to meet you.”
She sat in the garden, her new official escort off somewhere, guarding access to this area, she supposed, when she heard footsteps on the path. Expecting dour and by-the-book Captain Sarqisi, who’d replaced the congenial Kennear, she forced herself to smile and stood up. “I’m ready—”
“Miriell.”
She spun around at the sound of her name and saw Conor standing at the edge of the small green space. She ran to his open arms, throwing herself at him, her arms around his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss that went on so long she became dizzy. He buried his face in her hair and held her as she burst into tears. “I’ve missed you so much,” she sobbed. “I was afraid I might never be allowed to see you again.”
“I wouldn’t have stood for that.” He framed her face with his hands. “I was going crazy being away from you, worrying about how you were doing—” As if he couldn’t restrain himself a moment longer, he kissed her again, heedless of the tears.
He tasted of coffee and the salt from her tears, and it was wonderful. Miriell pressed as close to him as she could, her breasts against his hard chest. She felt his arousal stir against her thighs and warmth blossomed deep inside her body.
Conor swept her into his arms and carried her to the bench, where he sat, cradling her in his lap. She curled into his warmth and wiped her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so desperate to see you. I didn’t mean to cry. That one little glimpse of you on the concourse that day meant so much to me, because at least I knew you weren’t still in cuffs and being treated like a prisoner, but it was nothing like actually being with you, hearing your voice.” She hiccupped and tried to pull her emotions into check.
“I kept expecting to feel the touch of your power, but nothing, so I was going crazy with worry too, until your friend arranged that little moment. At least I knew you were doing okay. I owe the guy.”
“Captain Kennear,” she said. “He was a…a friend who took a chance as a favor to me, but now he’s left the ship, as far as I know.”
His arms tightened. “Problem?”
Shaking her head, she twined her fingers in his. “No, he was getting too fond of me, and he knew it. We both knew it. I did nothing to encourage him, especially once I comprehended the depth of his feelings. You’re the only man for me, ever.”
“You’re remarkably easy to fall in love with,” he said, dropping a kiss on her hair. “I sympathize with him, but if he’d bothered you, I’d have to track him down and explain the serious error of his ways.”
“No, it was fine. If he’d gone too far, I would have taken action, trust me. As to the other subject, Glennit has my power leashed. She said the SCIA insisted we have no contact so all the evidence and testimony would remain unsullied. Since you’re here now, does this mean you’re finished testifying?” She searched his face, noting the shadows again. “Can we leave?”
He drew a deep breath. “About that—we need to talk.”
“All right. As long as we can be together, I’m fine, even if we have to remain in this quasi prison of a ship.” She waved her free hand at the garden. “It’s nicer than the slave cells on Devir 6 anyway.”
His face tightened. “I hate that you’ve been kept in protective custody by my own people.” He allowed her to slip off his lap and onto the bench beside him but kept his grip on her hand, as if the touch was a comfort. “But it couldn’t be helped. The only thing I could do was get all my evidence out there as fast as possible and answer every piddling question any agent wanted to ask.”
“I understood. It was your duty.”
There was a moment of silence, and then he said in a rush, “Conor Stewart is dead.”
Even though he was sitting there right in front of her, holding her hand, she startled and felt as if she’d taken a blow to the gut. “What do you mean?”
“He was a medium-level Amarotu soldier, and he was killed in the SCIA assault.” Conor gave her a crooked grin. “As far as the records go.”
Head whirling, voice a whisper, she asked, “May I…can I still call you Conor?”
“Sweetheart, you can call me anything you like, just not in public.” He gestured at himself. “Meet Stefan Terence Murphy, SCIA senior agent.” Throwing his head back, he laughed. “Seven hells, it feels good to use my own name again. Forgive me for not telling you when we were in that SCIA safe house?”
“Of course.” She touched his chest. “You’re still the same man. If I had my power free of Glennit’s control, I know I’d see the blue flames of a warrior.”
“Still the man you love?” The question was said in a teasing tone, but even without her power, she heard the genuine concern.
There was only one answer to that, and this time the kiss was long and involved.
“Do you want to go to my cabin?” she asked breathlessly when they separated.
“More than anything, believe me, but there’s no time.” He ran one hand over his short hair. “Where to begin?”
“Wherever you like.”
“When my bosses first started planning this operation six years ago, I was a volunteer. Certain…promises were made to me, about my career trajectory when the job was finished, the rewards to be given for my sacrifice and the risks I’d have to take.” He shot her a sideways glance. “Now that it’s done and I’m back, those in the SCIA hierarchy find themselves uncomfortable with what I’ve become.” He rose, pacing as if he couldn’t remain still another moment. “Not to mention some of the things I had to do. A lot of shocked faces in that interrogation room at certain points in the narrative. Five years in the Amarotu add up to a lot of activities on the shady side of the law.”
Thinking over some of the things she’d had to do, she said, “I can imagine. What about your warrant? The authorities aren’t going to retract your immunity, are they?”
“No, the agent in charge was reminded quite forcefully by Lady Glennit how I went in with carte blanche and I did succeed in thwarting a Mawreg plot against the Sectors. With your help.” He bowed in her direction, and she nodded.
“We’re a team, the priestess and the warrior, and the time was right for success. Thankfully.”
“The truth is, I’m not the same man I was six years ago. It was naive of me—and them—to think I’d come back whole, shake off five years at the black heart of the Combine and slip into the old job without ripples. I was supposed to get promoted to special agent in charge of my own Sector branch. I’d been on the fast track for the position before I went undercover. I have the promise in writing in my personnel file. I read it again yesterday.” He paused at the edge of the tiny ornamental pond and stared into the water. “That job was all I ever wanted. My whole career path from the Academy days onward pointed there.”
She rose and joined him, slipping her arm around his waist and leaning close. “And now?”
“The upper echelons of the agency clearly feel huge reservations about having someone like me in charge of anything, much less an entire branch of agents.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head. “Don’t be. I find the dream died a long time ago. Being stuck in a tiny cabin on this damn ship for a month with nothing to do but think and reflect, in between giving testimony, I realized I’m too much of a rogue now. I couldn’t make any kind of success as a by-the-book, rule-bound boss. I’d go quietly crazy. Or break a million rules and regulations and end up getting fired, if not arrested. Either way, it’s not what I want.”
“So what have you chosen? And where does it take us?”
He stared at her, admiration lighting his silver-gray eyes. “You’re amazing, you know that? You’ll sign up to go with me, no matter where, without even knowing the details?”
“I love you. Details don’t matter. Once, I wanted to be the chief priestess of Thuun for all of Tulavarra. I schemed and planned and courted the right elders.” Shaking her head over the foolishness and crushed dreams of her younger self, she smiled ruefully. “All of which came to naught on the day I was kidnapped from my home. I’ve changed over the years, as much as you have, relinquished the hopes and dreams I’d cherished for my entire life too. The one true thing I know now is you’re my heart and my home, and if we’re together, any situation can be livable.”
“Better than merely livable, I hope. Another law enforcement agency reached out to me last week, said I’m what they need. I’ve been offered the position of sheriff for a colony world on the far side of the Sectors from here. I’d have a small staff of officers, but living on the frontier of civilization would mean less rulebook, more room to be creative. Not much chance of ever being found by the Combine either.” Raising his eyebrows, he grinned. “The colonists might be a handful, of course. Anyone who takes the challenge to move to the edge of the unknown and settle a new planet isn’t likely to be a tame sheep.”
“Neither are we.”
“We’re the sheepdogs,” he said with a laugh. “The protectors.”
“So a completely new start?” The idea was appealing. She felt her heart beat faster as she thought about being free of the overwhelming Sectors control and structure.
He faced her, taking both of her hands in his. “Will you come with me? Will you be my wife and take this challenge together?”
“Nothing would make me happier.” She went on her tiptoes to kiss him, but he grabbed her in a bear hug and spun her around in a dizzying circle.
“What would I do there?” she asked when he lowered her to the deck again.
“Anything you want, I guess. You sing beautifully, you’re a healer, you sure know how to grow things. I’ve been assured the planet is lush and heavily forested. There are three oceans—” He stopped in midword and began searching in his pants pockets while Miriell watched in puzzlement. “That reminds me, I have something for you.” A moment later, he extended his hand to her, the seedpod resting on his palm. “You left this on Opherra’s ship.”
“You saved it for me.” With exquisite care, she lifted the tiny winged case and closed her fingers over it. “There is still the possibility of life. Do you think it’ll grow on our new homeworld?”
“I hope so. I knew you’d want to try planting it. I’d like the idea of a tree to represent our past and our future.”
“And our love,” she whispered.
“That too.” He kissed her tenderly. “Love, most of all.”
“I can encourage it to grow, even though the soil will be alien for its roots. Glennit won’t keep my powers caged once we’re away from here, will she?” Miriell voiced her deepest fear.
“Indeed, I won’t.”
Miriell spun around to see the Mellurean standing at the edge of the garden’s open space. Glennit nodded at them. “Since you’ve chosen this new future together, I’m ready to send you off. It’s a long journey to your new home. Your possessions have been packed and placed in the military shuttle awaiting you in the landing bay. The Navy’ll take you to the ship for the next segment of the voyage, after which you’ll be transferring again, at a Sector Hub, to begin the final portion of the journey. As Agent Murphy stated, the colony where he’s to be sheriff lies many light years away from this Sector.”
“And I thought the Sectors was so slow-moving.” Miriell glanced at Conor—no, Stefan—and laughed.
“I guess having wrung us both dry of all the testimony and evidence we can give, the SCIA can’t wait to get rid of us.” His dry tone indicated he might not be joking.
“There are those who’ll be relieved to know you’ve gone,” Glennit agreed. “I don’t count myself among them. Meeting the two of you has been a fascinating experience. You may hear from me again, should your homeworld of Tulavarra be located at some point. And, of course, you’re always welcome to visit Mellure. After all, your papers do state you’re Mellurean affiliates. You may call upon us if the need is sufficient.”
She escorted them from the garden and along corridors Miriell hadn’t seen before, apparently heading to the landing bay. “Will you thank Captain Sarqisi for me, as well as the two lieutenants who were tutoring me, for their help and kindness?”
“Of course.”
“Will these ships we’re to be traveling on have adequate biological support for Miriell’s needs? A garden or hydroponics?” Conor-Stefan asked. “Or should we be discussing cryo sleep?”
Hating the idea of ever enduring cryo sleep again, she protested, but he squeezed her hand. “My priority is to get you to our new home in a healthy state. If it comes to cryo sleep, we’ll pay for the best specialized services, I promise. And I’ll be there to stand watch over you every moment.”
“I think you’ll find the amenities more than meeting your needs on the ships I’ve selected for your passage.” Glennit’s expression and slight smile held an odd hint of mischief. “I should also mention that, given your status as an SCIA agent, you weren’t eligible for any kind of a monetary reward connected with the takedown of the Combine, of course—”
“I have five years of back salary banked,” he said.
“I was going to say Miriell was eligible for a reward. We’ve established an account for her on New Switzerland with a significant balance.” She reached into a pocket of her elegant dress and brought out a shiny black personal AI. “The details are here.”
“Not much to buy on a colony world.” Stefan raised his eyebrows at the amount on the readout as Miriell showed it to him. He whistled. “But I’m sure we’ll think of a few things.”
“Especially if there are children born of our union,” Miriell said. Her cheeks felt hot, and she knew she was blushing. “Eventually.”
“Which reminds me, we want to get married,” Stefan told Glennit. “Can the captain of this ship—”
“Regrettably, there isn’t time. I’m sure the captain of the space liner you’ll be traveling on next will be happy to oblige. You can consider the voyage a honeymoon.”
Ushered by a small contingent of military personnel, Miriell and Conor entered the docking bay, Glennit leading the way. A trim ship with sleek lines that spoke of speed sat waiting, ramp extended for passengers to board. Glennit stopped, and they paused with her. She held out her arms, and she and Miriell embraced. “I send you forth with my blessings,” the lady said. She shook hands with Stefan.
He offered his arm to Miriell. “Shall we?”
Her powers flooded over her in a rush as Glennit released her psychic hold. She staggered, and Stefan caught her. Leaning on his strong arm, she saw the full glory of the blue flames, mixed with the vibrant clear red of true love, and she sighed. Thank you, she said to Glennit. I never had any doubts about the strength of my bond with him, but it’s beautiful to see.
Journey well and be happy.
“Are you all right?” he asked, face full of concern.
“I’m fine, eager to be on our way to our new home and a fresh start. Freedom to make choices again.” She smiled at him. “I choose you.”