Redemption of Light (The Light Trilogy) (12 page)

BOOK: Redemption of Light (The Light Trilogy)
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Ornias lifted his sherry and smoothly finished it to the last drop. “Well,” he said airily. “It seems I have no choice but to apprehend Calas immediately. Please give me as many additional soldiers as you can, Captain. We’ll storm the polar chambers immediately.”

“I already have platoons on standby. Let me notify my security chief to order them down to the planet.” Amirah stalked to the door of the council chambers and gave Tolemy the news, then she marched back. “In an hour, you’ll have an additional one thousand soldiers to launch your attack. I do hope that will be enough, Governor.”

Ornias stiffened. “What does that mean?”

“It’s very simple. If you are unable to capture Calas in the specified amount of time, my orders are to relieve you of command and transport you back to Palaia Station for disciplinary action.”

Ornias laughed incredulously. “That’s ludicrous. Who else could the Magistrates possibly find to govern this barren wilderness?

“Military appointments are not my jurisdiction, Governor.
You have two days.
I’ll expect a report from you by 08:00 day after tomorrow.”

She turned in crisp military fashion and headed for the door. Stopping before the exit patch, she turned halfway around and leveled a scorching examination. “Please don’t force me to tran you, Governor.”

Oraias lifted a brow. A slow hot smile came to his face. “Don’t threaten me, Captain. I’ve contacts in places you’ve never even
heard
of.”

“Undoubtedly. Gutter hooligans are not my jurisdiction either.”

She hit the patch and exited into the hallway without waiting for his response. Her security team fell into line behind, matching her quick steps. Horner tried to dart in front of her, but she gruffly commanded, “It won’t be necessary for you to escort us, Sergeant. We know the way.”

Horner grumbled resentfully, but obediently stopped. Amirah marched around the corner and down the hall of the Gothic arches. Two rods of sunlight shot through the stained glass windows, lancing the plush carpets like golden spears.

The farther she strode the more angry she grew. Ornias’ comment about his “contacts” rankled—for it was certainly true. Under her breath, Amirah cursed, “Goddamned pompous sonofabitch.”

“What happened?” Tolemy inquired. “We couldn’t hear a thing from the hall.”

Richert fell farther behind. She glimpsed him staring in awe at the gorgeous magenta peaks of the arches.

“Let’s just say the governor is as anxious as we are to complete this mission.”

“He’d better be—if he wants his neural pathways to stay in their current configuration.”

Amirah laughed softly, shaking her head. Her thoughts drifted to what she’d have to do if Ornias couldn’t comply. She and Woloc had planned in detail how to attack the polar chambers utilizing a cannon barrage. But a large number of innocent civilians would die that way. She got so wrapped up in the alternate strategies that she barely heard the gasp from behind. A scream rang out, then four almost simultaneous shots.

Amirah spun, her hand grabbing for her pistol, but she’d barely made it halfway around when a man hit her and knocked her to the floor. A hard, muscular arm closed around her throat and she felt the barrel of a pistol press into her back.

“Don’t make any sudden moves, Captain,” a cool male voice instructed. “I’ve no intention of killing you unless you give me no choice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

A black-clad arm reached around and relieved her of her pistol. Silently and expertly, he patted her down and removed the knife from her thigh sheath. Then her attacker jerked her to her feet and hurriedly shoved her into a dark narrow passageway that jutted off from the main corridor. She staggered, sucking in a stunned breath when she saw Tolemy and Richert. They sprawled twenty feet apart, dead. Two unknown men lay toppled over her team. Wide crimson pools of blood spread around them like fiery lakes.

“Hurry, Captain,” her attacker whispered in her ear. “We haven’t all day.”

He rushed her so quickly, she stumbled over her own feet and fell against the pink marble wall. In a flash, she knew this might be her only chance to save her own life. She lifted her leg and whirled around, leveling an expert kick—

Her assailant immediately countered, thrusting up with his arm to tumble her backward. She rolled and scrambled to her knees. He leveled his pistol, a hard glow in his blue-violet eyes. Brown hair clung in damp wisps to his forehead. Very handsome, he had a straight nose, thin lips, and a heavy dark brown beard that shrouded most of his face. He bent forward slightly, panting, grimacing in pain—and she noticed the stain of blood permeating his black jumpsuit over his left thigh. Vague recognition tugged at her memories. Where had she seen him before?

“Easy, Captain,” he commanded softly. “Get up,
slowly.”

Amirah complied, pushing to her feet.

“Clasp your hands behind your head,” he ordered. “And march.”

Cautiously she turned and headed down the narrow hall. When they came to an intersection of corridors, he ordered, “Stop. Get down on your hands and knees. There, see that block of marble? Good, shove it to the right.”

Amirah pushed hard, putting all of her strength into moving the huge block. It made a gravelly scritching noise as it opened. A black hole looked back at her, foul odors drifting out.

“Inside, Captain. Quickly. And don’t get any ideas. I’ll be right behind you. And my aim is damned accurate at five feet.”

She quietly slithered in on her belly and felt him follow. Water splashed beneath her hands. Her panting echoed from the walls as though magnified by some hidden source. She slid back against a cold stone wall and watched a tiny blue handglobe flare in his palm. It cast an azure gleam over the plain gray walls of the subterranean passageway. Without taking his eyes from her, he reached out and pushed the block closed.

Vile odors rose from the gurgling water. She glared, realizing he’d forced her into a sewer channel. Undoubtedly dozens of them laced the rocks beneath the palace. And where did they come out? Had Governor Ornias—fool that he was—failed to post guards on each exit tube? Or had this skilled assassin killed them all?

Using his pistol barrel, he motioned for her to crawl. “Hurry, Captain, straight ahead. We’ve a long way to go to get to the abandoned chambers of the legendary Desert Fathers.”

Amirah scrambled through the malodorous filth. Only the dim bluish light of his globe lit the pathway. She glanced back at her assailant constantly, waiting for him to drop his guard. If he’d just take his eyes off her for a split second, she could take him.

For fifteen minutes, they splashed through the channel, then he suddenly shoved her back against the wall and ordered, “Stay very still.”

Amirah malevolently eyed his pistol. His aim never wavered as he backed away a few feet and levered another block open a crack. Wan sunlight penetrated the dark, falling in a gray rectangle over his torn black battlesuit. She could see the nasty wound on his thigh, the blood pulsing with his heartbeat. He briefly touched the com unit on his belt, then regripped his pistol with, both hands.
Who had he signaled?

“All right, Captain, outside,” he ordered. “Easy.”

She crawled forward and ducked beneath the stone, emerging into a misty rain shower. He followed, instantly grabbing her purple sleeve and jerking her back against the palace wall. Her head cracked the stones painfully.

He twined his fingers in her purple sleeve and forced her in front of him, as though using her as a shield. “See that cleft in the ridge ahead?” he demanded. “The one that cuts the sandstone like a lightning zigzag?”

“Affirmative.”

“When I count to three, you’re going to run with all your heart for it. Clear?”

“Yes.”

“One, two, three …”

She lunged forward. His racing steps echoed behind her, squishing in the sand as they darted into the cleft. Slamming an arm across her back, he forced her face-down into the soft wet grains that filled the crevice. She felt his pistol pressing into the base of her skull.

“Damn you!” she spat. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“Right now, I want you to pretend you’re on an Academy training mission. You’re going to have to slither on your stomach for about half a mile—and you’re going to have to do it fast. Crawl straight ahead and slip down into that crevice that opens off to your left. It’ll be just barely big enough to give you the space to maneuver. Now, hurry, I suspect Governor Ornias or some of his henchmen have already found the prizes we so untidily left.”

Like a snake into a gopher hole, she slid into the crevice and scrambled forward. Once every five or ten minutes, he instructed her to turn down a new passageway. They seemed to get narrower and narrower, until finally she couldn’t breathe. The terrors of claustrophobia clamped ghostly fingers around her throat.

“How much longer?” she asked. “I can’t stand much more of this.”

“That makes two of us. Confined spaces remind me too much of cages—though I’ll take solid rock to light bars any day. We’re almost there. Just a few more minutes.”

She forced her weary body forward. Light bars? He’d been captured before? By whom? When?
Why did he seem so familiar?
Even his voice struck a chord of recognition in her memories.

After another fifteen minutes of dust clogging her lungs and making her cough and grunt, the hole widened. She poked her head out into a diamond-shaped corridor—and saw her chance. Before her captor could utter any further instructions, Amirah kicked out with all her strength, slamming him in the shoulders. He cried out angrily as she dove into the corridor and ran blindly through the darkness. The faint glow of his handglobe spurted suddenly and she could see the dark tunnel that veered sharply off to the right. She lunged for it.

“Captain!”
his angry voice echoed. She heard his booted feet pounding the stone as he pursued her.

Then the faint light of the globe died and the sounds stopped. A sullen stillness gripped the halls.

Only her hand against the cold stone told her when she’d reached another intersection. Heedlessly, Amirah rounded the corner, then slid silently down the new corridor, trying not to pant, trying not to make any sound at all. For what seemed an eternity, she moved a step at a time, listening intently to the blackness. She edged through an eerie shroud of invisible webs that netted her face and throat. She scratched at them, pulling them away from her eyes. No more passageways converged with hers and she grew panicky.
He saw the first turn you took, Amirah. He may have heard the second. He’s probably in this corridor with you.

She halted.

A breath of cool wind permeated the tunnel. Amirah trained her ears on the hush. Nothing.
Where are you? What do you want?
She allowed herself a deep breath. None of it made any sense! Why capture her? Was this some Gamant plot designed to keep Mikael Calas safe? Did they plan an exchange?

She leaned her head back against the wall and exhaled a long quiet breath. Her survival depended upon seeing her pursuer before he saw her—or, in this pitch blackness, on hearing him. Even after twelve years, she could hear the voice of her clandestine operations professor at Academy, Jones Yura, lecturing, “Assume the bastards are waiting for you to make the first move. Don’t. Frustrate the enemy. Make them impatient. Force them to get hasty. Then….”

Before she’d even finished the thought, she heard a slight, almost inaudible whisper of breathing—or was it just the constant wind that swept this corridor? It was a sizzle, a hissing … like a …

Serpent! Dark. Dark! Narrow corridor. Smoke. She smelled smoke!

“Amirah!” her grandmother shouted and wept. “Don’t let them do this to you! Remember who you are! Don’t be a pawn for them!”

Movement. Vague, insidious.

The Devouring Creature of Darkness crept closer, like a huge black shadow, blacker than the darkness itself.

Amirah screamed hoarsely and ran through the stone passageways like a madwoman. Where was her grandmother? What was happening. Grandmama was always with her when the serpent—

“Captain!” a man yelled. “Don’t run!”

“Leave me alone!” she shrieked back and ran with all her might.

Before she could find a new corridor to race down, something heavy struck her from behind.
Dark! So dark!
Amirah clawed and fought as though she’d forgotten all the hand-to-hand skills the military had taught her.

“Stop it, Captain!” the man said. “Don’t make me kill you! Our plan works whether you’re dead or not! Stop this!”

The cold barrel of a pistol jammed into her stomach. She blinked the stinging sweat out of her eyes.

And realized where she was. Horeb.

Her security team had been ambushed. She’d been kidnapped. Kidnapped …
yes, forced out of her home and bodily dragged to …
to—where? What had she been thinking? Her hands twitched uncontrollably.

A deep voice whispered to her from the ebony quiet.
“Don’t move, Captain Jossel.”

A blue handglobe flared and she stared into the eyes of her captor. He had her pinned to the stone floor, his pistol now pointed at her face. His blue-violet eyes sparkled demonically in the dimness as he pushed off of her and got to his feet unsteadily.

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