Blood of the Cosmos (27 page)

Osira'h had always known she would return to Ildira. She tried to prepare herself mentally for that, yet she didn't want to be separated from him. But there would be ample diplomatic opportunities for the Mage-Imperator's daughter and the Confederation's Prince to see each other again. She clung to that.

With a drone of engines, Ildiran cutters landed on the canopy, flying complex maneuvers and trailing prismatic ribbons in the air, as if this were an ordinary skyparade. At about the same time, with a clatter of small engines, a group of flying craft skimmed along the treetops from the west: her sister Muree'n along with Yazra'h, back from their wyvern hunt. They, too, would have sensed the crisis in the
thism
network.

The green priest Beltrias had sent word ahead about the results of the hunt through telink, so they knew the monster had been killed. Beltrias led the way, beside Anton Colicos, who clung to his wobbly aircraft. On their own flyers, Yazra'h and Muree'n sat proud in their armor, but their triumph was diminished because of the distant tragedy.

After landing, Yazra'h swung off her vehicle with remarkable suppleness. Muree'n imitated her, while Anton struggled to dismount. When he nearly tripped, Yazra'h flashed out a hand to steady him, as if she were deflecting a poisonous viper from striking him. Embarrassed, the human historian mumbled his thanks.

Without wasting time on greetings, Mage-Imperator Jora'h said, “Come! The Empire needs us. We depart for Ildira immediately.”

Yazra'h placed her hands on Anton's shoulders in a formal gesture of farewell. “I am sorry to leave you.”

He seemed surprised. “I'm going back with you. Your rememberers need me—they can't sort through all those ancient Shana Rei records themselves, and they sure don't have the imagination to connect the dots unless somebody shows them how. You need me there.”

Yazra'h accepted his decision. “Yes, I do. I will protect you.”

Blushing, he laughed. “Really? You just dragged me out into the deep forest on a monster hunt.”

She cocked her eyebrows. “You survived—and you returned with a glorious story.”

Wistfully, Nira touched the fronds on the canopy, engaging in direct contact with the worldforest one more time. “We have to go.”

Osira'h turned to Reynald. “Be well—I want you to promise me.”

He sounded awkward. “I'm doing my best. I wish you could stay.”

“The Ildiran medical kith continue to research, but I will also contact my sister Tamo'l. Maybe she can find some way to treat your sickness.”

Reyn let out a sigh. “I appreciate that, but there are many diseases, many sick people. It's not fair to the rest of them to expend so much effort on me.”

“It is not about being fair. It is about you, and I care about
you
.”

She wasn't sure which of them moved first, but Osira'h was holding him, and Reyn wrapped his arms around her to hold her in return. She could sense the Ildiran entourage and the Mage-Imperator watching them, but she didn't care. Muree'n seemed puzzled at their show of affection, as if she hadn't even considered the possibility of a relationship between the two of them.

“I will see you again, Reynald of Theroc,” Osira'h said.

“As soon as possible,” he answered.

 

CHAPTER

41

ROD'H

The unexpected slaughter at the daily lens-alignment ceremony left the Ildiran people reeling. Taking charge of the Prime Designate, Rod'h had fled from the mob, avoiding even the guard kithmen, trusting no one. Keeping hidden, he dragged Daro'h through the streets, desperate to get back to the Prism Palace. He knew that at any moment, some innocuous-seeming citizen on any street corner might turn murderous.

So the two of them ran alone. Rod'h felt vulnerable, but he considered it a greater risk to be near other Ildirans whom the Shana Rei could possess.

Fortunately, the violent outburst faded quickly. As they ran up the steep paths to the Prism Palace, guard kithmen hurried to meet them, but Rod'h took one look at their wicked crystal weapons, their muscled bodies, and their armor, and ordered them to step aside. He was all too aware that they could become enemies.

Daro'h understood the danger as well. “Do as he says!” he commanded. The guards dutifully stepped away and let the two of them run into the Palace.

After the ordeal, the Prime Designate was frightened but not helpless, not panicked. He seemed to understand that Rod'h was trying to help him, and he drew upon his friend's strength. “Thank you.” He panted as they barricaded themselves in his quarters. “I feel safe with you.”

Rod'h kept his voice hard. “It is possible that I am immune to the taint from the shadows, like my brother Gale'nh, but do not let yourself feel safe with anyone.”

Daro'h collapsed on a cushion and tried to catch his breath. Several of his children were playing in his quarters, along with five breeding partners who had come to spend the day. Illi'v, who had designed their new garments, cried out when she saw the clothes spattered with blood.

In a commanding voice, Rod'h ordered them all out. Daro'h objected. “My children—I need to keep them with me. I need to protect them.”

“You need to be alone and sheltered,” Rod'h insisted. He didn't want to think about the Prime Designate's children snatching up sharp-edged toys and lunging at their father. Lowering his voice, he added with more compassion, “We cannot allow the Shana Rei to use your own children against you, Prime Designate. This is a terrible time.”

*   *   *

He had not expected an opportunity to show his worth so soon, and Rod'h had not done it in a calculating way, but because it
needed to be done
.

After an urgent discussion, he convinced the Prime Designate that the dead mob members had to be gathered up and incinerated immediately. The risk of the spreading shadow stain was too great. Daro'h agreed, issuing the necessary orders and instructing the handlers of the dead to wear full exosuits, as if they were operating in a hazardous environment.

In the absence of the Mage-Imperator, the Ildirans followed the Prime Designate's orders without question, and Rod'h was glad—even proud—to help Daro'h impose order. The new victims were all vaporized inside crematory crucibles.

Even after that grim task was completed, though, Rod'h didn't rest. Mijistra had to be stable when the Mage-Imperator returned, and he and Daro'h had little time to make it so. Surely, Jora'h would already be on his way.

Adar Zan'nh returned to Ildira first, however. As soon as his battered flagship reached the Ildiran system, Rod'h could sense Gale'nh—alive, but shaken from his encounter with the Shana Rei.

Though Rod'h wanted to keep Daro'h isolated from crowds, the Prime Designate was required to receive the returning Adar. The Ildiran people would be even more frightened if the future Mage-Imperator continued to hide in his chambers.

Speaking on Daro'h's behalf, Rod'h called for twice the usual contingent of guards to stand around the perimeter of the skysphere audience chamber, but with an excess of caution, he refused to allow any of them to approach closer than the lowest step of the dais. He stood partway up, as if he alone could defend the Prime Designate. Concealed beneath his robes, he carried two powerful projectile weapons. If the shadows should seize control of a mob and turn them against Daro'h, he would gun them all down.

Although the Solar Navy flagship had already transmitted reports of what had occurred on Hiltos, Adar Zan'nh and Tal Gale'nh came to deliver a personal report nevertheless.

Rod'h was shocked to see the haughty man accompanying Zan'nh and Gale'nh. Though mad Designate Rusa'h had changed in appearance during two decades of isolation, every Ildiran knew the face of the man who had nearly obliterated the Empire through his alliance with the fire elementals.

Even more shocked, Daro'h lurched up out of the chrysalis chair. Rusa'h strode in beside the Solar Navy officers as if he were an equal. The man had once been corpulent and hedonistic, but now he appeared drained, burnt out from the inside and merely a ghost of who he had been.

“Why have you brought that evil man here?” Daro'h demanded, unconsciously touching his burned cheek.

Adar Zan'nh seemed angry as well. “Great apologies, Prime Designate. He demanded it.”

The disgraced man glanced at the threatening guard kithmen, then made a dismissive gesture. “You have nothing to fear from me. Our Empire is sorely threatened, and I may be able to help.”

Rod'h could not restrain his retort. “You have already caused us enough damage. Controlled by you, the faeros incinerated my own father on Dobro.”

“Do not hold to narrow thoughts in times of crisis,” Rusa'h said, maddeningly calm. “What was once our greatest enemy could now become our most powerful weapon. The shadows are already here, woven throughout space and tangled in the
thism
. How do you plan to fight them?” His lips quirked in a cold smile. “You just saw for yourselves that Ildirans cannot defend when the shadows strike from within.”

Prime Designate Daro'h tried to sound strong as he stood beside the chrysalis chair. “The Mage-Imperator just strengthened our alliance with the Confederation, and our races will work together to fight the Shana Rei.”

“And if that is ineffective?” Rusa'h asked. “Do not be afraid of the faeros. Think! What better way to drive back the creatures of darkness than with allies who are composed of fire and light? If we can summon—and control—the faeros, they could defend against even the darkest shadows.”

“They could also set Mijistra aflame, as they did before,” said Rod'h. “Is that how you mean to save us?”

The mad Designate frowned at him. “Who are you? Why do you speak for the Prime Designate?”

“He is my friend,” said Daro'h.

Gale'nh added, “Rod'h is my brother.”

Adar Zan'nh said, “As commander of the Solar Navy, I have seen the terrible threat posed by the Shana Rei and the black robots. I cannot in good conscience dismiss any possible way to fight against such a terrible enemy.” He lowered his voice. “Though I am gravely uneasy at the prospect.”

Daro'h flushed, making the scar even more prominent on his face. “We dare not invite the faeros back. We cannot trust them. I am Prime Designate, and I will not allow it!”

Rusa'h lifted his chin. “Then I will wait and speak with the Mage-Imperator when he returns. As I learned so painfully and so clearly, the Ildiran Empire has only one leader.”

 

CHAPTER

42

ZOE ALAKIS

A ship arrived at Pergamus broadcasting its coded access signal—one of her secret operatives. She knew it must be something important. No one just “dropped by.” Thanks to great effort on Zoe's part, the Pergamus star system was not even marked on most Confederation star charts.

This visitor came from the primary medical facilities on Earth, whose resources were famed throughout the Confederation (although they paled in comparison to those at Pergamus). Dr. Benjamin Paolus was a well-respected neurological researcher who had garnered accolades and prestige over the years. He was paid well in his line of work, but Zoe paid him much more for his off-the-books efforts. Paolus occasionally delivered interesting and classified medical cases for Zoe to add to her collection, and each time he requested more money.

On the comm screen, Zoe could see the glint of desperate avarice in his eyes. She had never been interested in, let alone obsessed with, money. Her inexhaustible stockpile of prisdiamonds on Vaconda left her wealthy beyond any possible need. But she knew, thanks to Tom Rom, that for some types of people, money was like kindling: the more it burned the brighter the flame, and those flames demanded to be fed with more and more fuel.

Her mercenary ships intercepted Paolus and guided him down through the poisonous atmosphere toward an isolated holding dome. Zoe sent Tom Rom to meet Paolus, trusting him to make decisions for her and to take care of any problems that arose. When unexpected people arrived at Pergamus, they brought problems as often as they brought opportunities.

Dr. Paolus fidgeted in the holding dome, as if his information were unstable and liable to detonate any minute. Zoe took her time before activating the screen. She wanted to make him wait. Yes, Paolus had provided interesting data before, but she didn't want him to think he could demand her attention whenever he decided to arrive unannounced.

Finally, she activated the screen and looked mildly at the impatient doctor. With her sharp eye, Zoe could see that his haughty and determined demeanor merely masked uneasiness. In order for him to have come all the way to Pergamus, either he must have something very important, or he was desperate.

For a long moment, she just stared at him, exchanged no pleasantries, didn't greet him—which made Paolus more nervous still. The doctor looked away, then back at her. Tom Rom loomed next to him, a silent and intimidating presence. She noted a sparkle of perspiration on Paolus's forehead.

He cleared his throat. “I've come about the case of Prince Reynald of Theroc. As you know, before his illness was publicly announced he hired me privately to test and diagnose him. I provided Pergamus with all that original medical data.”

“Yes,” Zoe said. “We paid you well for it.”

At the time, even King Peter and Queen Estarra hadn't known about their son's disease. It was quite an alarming revelation that the Confederation's heir apparent might waste away and die before he could ever take the throne.

Paolus cleared his throat. “The King and Queen are quite desperate for a cure. I pushed my teams to their limits, but I've done all I can. Your Pergamus facilities far surpass mine; in fact, they surpass any laboratory in the Confederation. There is an enormous reward for any kind of hope.” He shot an uneasy glance at Tom Rom.