Reclaiming Mystique (SpaceStalker Saga Book 2) (34 page)

“I asked you a question,” the insistent sultry voice asked again.

“Damn, but let me get my mind together to answer you, woman,” Mikhel said with a snarl, his Fenturi blood running hot at his loss of control. His blue eyes blazed as he looked up at his inquisitor but he studied her quietly, not allowing his surprise to show in his face.

She truly looked like Jace’s sister, he thought with amazement. Her white-blond hair and brows, the dark eyes and feminized form of Jace’s features clearly proclaimed them related. He sniffed the air subtly and found her scent clean and pure, though her angry curiosity at Mikhel’s appearance clearly upset her.

His eyes roamed over her form, ignoring for the moment her demand for his name. Mikhel stared with hooded eyes at her bountiful breasts clearly outlined by the thin fabric she wore to cover them. Obviously in this heat the natives had resorted to as little clothing as possible, a fact Mikhel could readily appreciate. He stared boldly up and down the woman’s body, his gaze lingering pleasantly on her outthrust breasts and down her lean stomach to her long legs, golden and begging to be touched.

“Your name?” she asked again, her voice deepening as she watched him scrutinize her.

Then Mikhel surprised her by leaping up suddenly. He made no overt move to approach her, rather he stood with his large arms crossed as he regarded her quietly.

“I am called Mikhel. And you must be Jace’s sister,” he said, nodding at his words.

“What do you know of Jace Arel?” she asked, and Mikhel swore he could sense her excitement. His eyes deepened into a dark blue as he studied her.

“He is my captain, and he is here.”

“Here?” she asked, horrified. Finally the woman showed her emotions and Mikhel thought her eyes absolutely stunning as color swirled through them.

“Yes, and even as we speak he is at the hands of the Cazeth. As I left, I saw the sky open up and an emptiness swirl overhead.”

“Yes.” The woman waved away his concern. “It’s a favorite trick of Orsan’s.”

“But does he normally leave it open so long? It’s still there now,” Mikhel said softly, urging the woman to open her senses to the truth.

She did so and she gasped.

“What is your name?” Mikhel asked, needing to know. He looked around and saw a large circle of armed men and women watching their interaction curiously.

The woman stared at him and he felt her touch him mentally. Not having anything to hide, he opened himself to her and saw by her startled expression that she hadn’t been expecting that. Then her eyes softened as she no doubt recognized Jace’s touch on his mind.

“I am called Arana, and I am indeed Jace’s Setha, his sister. He has been gone from us for many years, at times presumed dead.”

“No, he is very much alive,” Mikhel corrected her. Then he frowned. “At least he was when I left him. We have to help him.”

Arana nodded. “Of course we will, but not until I know more about why you are here.”

“Well, obviously
you’re
not with the Cazeth,” Mikhel said in a husky voice. “Jace, as far as I can tell, has been planning to free Mystique since he escaped ten years ago. He’s got our crew on standby but don’t get excited yet. None of us are Psi and we have only three warriors besides myself.”

Arana’s face fell and Mikhel quickly added, “But we do have a secret attack planned. We have minions from Dark World even now enroute to the planet.”

At his words, Arana’s face paled and loud grumbling filled the area in which they stood. Mikhel cursed himself for not easing into the explanation for Dark World’s involvement, knowing he too would have been concerned had he not been informed of the pact between Jace and Lord Demise.

“You would bring more evil to our world?” Arana asked, her eyes seething as she stared at Mikhel.

“You don’t understand. The Dark Worlders want the Cazeth back. They want no part of Mystique, only to recapture their prisoners before the System falls apart.”

At his loud words, those around him gathered closer and Mikhel hastily explained.

“Jace would never have let any of this come to bear if he had not the explicit trust of his mate, Naria. She’s from Dark World but only half demon. And her father pledged his support only to recoup his losses from the Cazeth’s earlier betrayal of Dark World and their laws.”

“Thank you for your confidence, Mikhel.” Mikhel heard Naria’s voice and for a moment thought she spoke to his mind.

But the Psi around them gasped in astonishment as Naria, Castor, Koneru and Nesham suddenly broke through the jungle surrounding them.

“Brother,” Nesham said with relief and strode to Mikhel, ignoring the threatening stares sent his way. He clasped Mikhel tight to his chest and Mikhel sighed, knowing that Nesham had feared to go through another loss.

“I am fine, Nesham,” Mikhel said with a broad grin. His eyes flitted over Arana and Nesham laughed out loud, ignoring the woman’s anger.

“Only you, Mikhel,” Nesham said slapping his back. Then he turned and bowed to Arana. “My lady.”

“Who are these people?” Arana asked in angered confusion.

“These are the crew I spoke of earlier,” Mikhel explained. “And this is Jace’s mate, Naria,” Mikhel said softly, bringing Arana towards Naria slowly. “Naria, meet Jace’s sister, Arana.”

Naria stared at the blond woman in disbelief. “His sister?” she asked. Yet even as she studied the woman she could see the resemblance, could feel the familiar thought patterns proclaiming them kin. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Naria said quietly.

“And you,” Arana said as quietly, staring in awe at Naria, as if in disbelief that Naria existed. “We must take you back to the keep, for Mikhel tells us he left Jace there.”

“Left him there?” Naria asked, her eyes blazing with anger as she stared at him.

“He made me go,” Mikhel said in a huff, clearly affronted that Naria could think so lowly of him.

“I’m sorry,” Naria said. “I’m just so worried about him.”

“As you should be,” Arana said. “The Cazeth will surely torture him unto madness. When Jace escaped those years ago, Orsan nearly went mad awaiting his return. In the time since, Orsan has spent years excelling and growing his broad range of Psi torture. Myself and a few others managed to escape his minions but those in the palace were not so lucky.”

“Your parents?” Naria asked quietly.

“Dead, thankfully so,” Arana said softly. She blinked in astonishment as Mikhel wiped a tear from her eye. Confused, she backed away, and Naria shot Mikhel a warning glare to leave the poor woman alone. Imagine the Fenturi planning seduction at a time like this, she fumed. She caught his helpless shrug and noted the gleam in Nesham’s eye.

Naria flinched suddenly as a familiar feeling of emptiness consumed her. She looked up as she heard the startled gasps around her to see a huge, gaping hole in the sky.

“The Cazeth,” she whispered, fear growing in her that they would indeed turn this planet into another Wern.

“That’s just Orsan up to his tricks again,” Arana said, though she looked decidedly uneasy as she stared up at the sky.

“I believe it may be more than that,” Naria said, her energies streaming to understand this new threat. She felt the wounded presence of Jace amidst the chaos and turmoil of that empty void, as if Jace was somehow aiding its growth. Naria turned to Castor. “We have to get Jace out of there now.”

Arana stared at Naria and her companions, her gaze resting on Mikhel in an odd force of concentration.

“We will go with you,” Arana said and turned to her people. She said nothing but Naria could feel the mental energy Arana projected. The others must have felt it as well for Koneru and Castor looked startled. The ways of the Psi were very different from those of the less mentally-gifted humans.

“Lead the way then,” Naria requested.

But instead of Arana taking the lead, Mikhel stepped forward.

“I recall from where I’ve come. I know where Jace is and I’ll be able to sense predators better even than the Psi.”

“You? You should be following us,” Arana contradicted Mikhel. “Your mind is no match for Orsan and the others.”

“Yes, but I’m physically superior to you, little Psi. And those purple winged creatures would just love to tear into your tender flesh,” Mikhel replied pleasantly before tearing into the jungle.

Naria listened as Arana grumbled and grudgingly followed the rash Fenturi. Naria caught Nesham’s grin shared with his crewmembers before he saw her looking and carefully composed himself. The crew fit in the middle of the Psi and Naria could feel the large shield Arana’s brethren projected to shield them from the Cazeth.

Impressed despite herself, Naria had to consider that the Psi did indeed hold a vast potential for mental abilities that would be threatening and even overpowering to those of Dark World. She wondered what her father would think of Arana and her people and prayed he had spoken the truth about wanting nothing more out of Mystique than the Cazeth.

Naria moved swiftly through the jungles of Mystique with the others, her mind too occupied worrying over Jace to fully appreciate the glory of life around her. But she couldn’t quite dismiss the heady call of Mystique as the planet wrapped her lavender energies around Naria, trying to know her.

It was somewhat distracting to focus on Jace while the planet seemed to want to know all about her. Naria could feel it shy from her darkness, while at the same time it ventured further into her subconscious as if trying to understand her.

Naria wondered if the planet had sensed the dread negativity of the Cazeth, and how it had dealt with such an invasion all these years. Of course, for a planet, even one as small as Mystique, ten years would be no more than the blink of an eye for a human.

Naria stumbled and would have fallen into Nesham had the large man not caught her gently.

“What?” she asked.

Nesham held his hand to his lips, his eyes glowing as he listened with a sharp ear. He left Naria and strode to Mikhel who had halted the large party. Not to be left behind, Naria followed Nesham hard on his heels.

“They are ahead,” Mikhel said in a low voice, his arms visibly restraining Arana from moving forward. “Arana, stop,” Mikhel said softly. “Those demons ahead are merely a distraction.” He turned to Castor who had approached. “I would think it best to split our party now. What think you, Castor?”

Castor frowned as he listened to the odd sounds coming from the edge of the jungle. “Well, as this looks like the end of the jungle, I’d say you’re right. We can’t risk all being taken at once. Naria, you take a small party with you to find Jace. Take Koneru and Arana. The rest of us will try to lead these creatures from you. And with the Psi help we should be able to hold them off for a while.”

Naria nodded and saw Arana shrug her assent.

“But remember, no heroics,” Castor reminded them clearly, his dark eyes serious. “Just break him out of there if you can. If you can’t, come back here and wait for us. We’ll be able to help en masse if need be.”

Naria nodded. “Well, Arana? Lead us to your brother.”

As Naria and Koneru followed Arana down a darker path away from the others, they heard a loud screeching and the flutter of a dozen wings.

“The battle begins,” Koneru said in a grim voice. He gently nudged Naria ahead of him and they continued to follow Arana.

“We’ll cut around the village this way and move to the keep via a secret passage known only to myself and my brother,” Arana explained. She brought them to a dark cave and entered.

As they moved, Koneru cursed several times. “I can’t see a blasted thing,” he muttered.

Naria smiled as she heard the large man curse. “Use a I bit of Dark World sight, Koneru,” she said and fixed Koneru with her shared vision. Koneru gasped behind her but he didn’t stumble again.

“Do you always see this clearly in the dark?” he asked as they moved up several steep steps.

“Yes. It’s a condition we learn due to our lack of light on Dark World.”

”What of Arana?” Koneru asked quietly.

“I don’t see well in the darkness, Rovi, but I’m familiar with this place having been through this corridor so often. Now quiet, we are getting closer to the tower rooms.”

They stopped and waited until Arana motioned them through. Stepping into the dim light filtering through the windows of the tower, they blinked to adjust their vision.

“Night begins to fall,” Arana said. “And with the dark the Cazeth grow in strength.”

“We need to find Jace,” Naria said worriedly.

But before they could move, they heard loud explosions that rocked the tower. Muttered cursing and balls of flame whizzed by the open windows, glowing a fiery orange against the indigo of deepening sky around them.

“Quickly!” Arana said. “Back into the passage.”

They sealed themselves inside the darkness just as the sound of bodies entered the tower.

“You’ll get more later, Psi,” voices echoed over each other as sibilant whispers trailed over the cold rock of the room. “Lord Orsan likes you, a lot,” another cacophony of voices said, ending in gurgling laughter.

Naria closed her eyes as the sounds of hel trickled over her. She had only visited Wern once in her life, as a young girl. Her father had taken both Naria and Carinna, warning them of the dangers of Wern. Every Dark Worlder eventually visited Wern, if for no other reason than to find out whether they had been born to chaos.

Naria and Carinna had cried for days after their visit, firmly terrified of the dark emptiness of that place. And now Naria heard those same voices that belonged to the Cazeth, and yet belonged to no one.

Madness spewed from those dark creatures and Naria had to remind herself to be strong, for Jace’s sake.

The minute the evil left the room, Arana opened the hidden door slightly and they rushed in to find a man curled on his side lying before them.

Before they reached him Naria felt Jace holding onto consciousness by a thread. She leapt forward, disregarding Koneru’s words to be cautious.

“Jace?” she whispered. “Can you hear me?” Naria bent over him, her eyes absorbing the torture inflicted by the Cazeth. Jace’s clothes had been almost burned off of him, his flesh red and blistering in sections due, no doubt, to the Cazeth’s fondness for fire. His hair had been singed, the smell of burnt flesh and hair stinging her nose.