The Captive (14 page)

Falkon shut down the engine, then rose to his feet. “Wonder
if there’s anything to eat on board,” he mused.

Food, she thought. How could he think of food at a time like
this? She drew back as a long brown and yellow snake, its body easily as thick
as her upper thigh, slithered down one of the trees. What other creatures
lurked out there?

She could hear Falkon moving around in the back of the ship.
Curious, she slid out of the seat and went into what she assumed was the
kitchen. It was small and square and gray, hardly large enough for the two of
them.

Falkon looked up. “We’re in luck. You hungry?”

She shook her head. She was too scared at the prospect of
being alone with Falkon on a strange planet to be hungry.

He punched a number into a small panel on the wall; a moment
later, a tray slid out of a slot at the bottom. The aroma of roast karu-atar
and coffee filled the small cabin.

He sat down at the small table that was attached to one
wall. “Sure you don’t want something?”

She shook her head.

“Well, sit down and keep me company.”

She slid into the seat across from him, her hand folded
around the controller in her pocket. “How long are we going to stay here?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. At the moment, it seems like a
safe port.”

She thought of the enormous snake she had seen outside.
“Safe?”

“Sure. As long as we keep still and quiet, they can’t track
the ship.”

“But I want to go to Arkata.”

“Arkata? That’s on Trellis, isn’t it? What’s there?”

“My fiancé.” She had never been eager to marry. Niklaus was,
after all, not only a man she had never met, but fifteen years her senior. But
now he was her only refuge in the world. He would marry her and protect her.

Falkon stared at her. “You’re engaged?”

“Yes.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “Why?”

“Just surprised me, that’s all.”

“He’s a wonderful man. Very handsome. Very rich.”

“Rich,” Falkon said with a sneer. “I could have guessed
that.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being rich,” she snapped.

“How’d he get rich?”

“His family owns a factory that produces laser cannons.”

“Ah.”

“You’re nothing but a mercenary. Who are you to judge him?”

“I’m not judging him. After all, if it wasn’t for men like
him, the Romarians couldn’t have fire bombed my house.” He didn’t add that
laser cannons had destroyed her home and family as well. She seemed to have put
it out of her mind for the moment and he saw no need to remind her. There was
enough pain in the world already.

Ashlynne bit down on her lower lip, silenced by the anger in
his eyes, by the certainty that he had lost more than a house. “Are you…have
you family somewhere?”

“Not any more.” Falkon pushed the tray away, his meal
unfinished. “My wife and daughter were in the house when they burned it.”

She had a sudden, horrible image of her own home going up in
flames, felt again the loss of her parents. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, and
knew in her heart that the words were inadequate, that there were not enough
words in the galaxy to ease the pain.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Me, too.” He stood abruptly. “I’m
going outside and have a look around.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Falkon shrugged. “Beats staying cooped up in here.”

“But you don’t know what’s out there. I saw a snake.”

“I’m not afraid of snakes.”

She tilted her head to one side, her expression thoughtful.
“What are you afraid of?”

“That controller in your pocket.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?”

“Learn how to fly, I guess.”

“That’s not funny.”

“Am I laughing?”

“Darn you, Falkon.”

“I’m going. You can come with me, or stay here, but I’m
going out.”

Ashlynne glanced around. “You don’t like small places, do
you?” she remarked, thinking of the tiny cell that had imprisoned him. It
hadn’t been much larger than the galley.

“Not much.” He moved past her, opening doors as he went.
There were two cabins, fore and aft, a head, the galley, and a small
combination storage area and closet.

She trailed behind, her hand caressing the controller.

Falkon opened the closet and pulled out a fur-lined jacket.
It was more to his taste than the coat he was wearing. “Nice,” he muttered as
he removed the guard’s coat and slipped the jacket on. “There’s another one in
here. You want it?”

She was torn between staying inside where it was relatively
safe and going outside with him. In the end, being alone was less appealing
than being with Falkon. The knowledge surprised her.

She held out her hand, scowling when he grinned at her.

“Guess that means you’re going with me.”

“I guess so,” she said curtly.

“Where’s the stun gun you took from the guard?”

“In my pocket.”

“Well, keep it handy.”

“Do you think I’ll need it?” she asked, and then she
remembered the snake.

Slipping on the jacket he handed her, she followed him down
the companionway and out into an uncharted world.

Ashlynne shivered as a blast of cold air seemed to slap her
in the face. Huddling deeper into her jacket, she followed Falkon down the
ladder.

A gray mist seemed to hover in the air, its cold fingers
slipping inside her collar, crawling up her legs. She shivered again and moved
closer to Falkon. Why hadn’t she stayed inside? At least it was warm there. And
safe.

“What now?” she asked.

“We go exploring.”

Ashlynne watched as he pulled the gun from his coat pocket
and thrust it into the waistband of his trousers.

“Easier to get to, just in case,” he explained.

His words did nothing to ease her nerves.

“Ready?”

She nodded. “I guess so, though I still think this is a
mistake.”

“Won’t be the first one I’ve made,” he muttered.

“Well, that’s comforting,” she retorted. “Let’s hope it’s
not your last.”

With a grin, Falkon started walking.

Ashlynne took a deep breath, her gaze darting right and left
as she followed Falkon. What kind of place was this? Even the ground felt
strange, sort of soft and springy, as if it was going to give way beneath her
at any moment. Tall trees rose up everywhere, branches heavy with gray-green
moss. There was an abundance of plant life with spiked leaves and sharp thorns.

There seemed to be no wildlife other than the snake she had
seen from the window. Remembering that, she glanced quickly behind her,
wondering where the thing had gone. She hurried after Falkon, moving
cautiously. Where there was one snake, there was bound to be more. And the
snakes had to eat something…

“What are we looking for?” she asked.

Falkon shrugged. “Just looking.”

“What if we get lost?”

“I never get lost.”

“Uh-huh.”

They walked for what seemed like miles and miles, and the
scenery never changed. Tall slender trees dripping moss, spiky plants and
ferns; ferns, spiky plants and tall slender trees dripping moss.

She was about to suggest they turn back when she heard a
dull roaring sound. “What’s that?”

Falkon shook his head. “I don’t know. Sounds like a
waterfall.”

Curious, she quickened her steps as she followed him through
the thick underbrush.

It was, indeed, a waterfall, but unlike any she had ever
seen. It tumbled down the face of an enormous mountain, a foaming cascade of
rainbow hued water that splashed into a churning pool that gradually quieted
and became a wide river.

It was beautiful, breathtaking, like something out of a
fairy tale of old.

She started to speak, but Falkon lifted a finger to his lips
to silence her, and then pointed across the river.

At first she didn’t see anything, and then, slowly, the
creature took shape. She stared in disbelief. It couldn’t be. But it was. A
blue unicorn, a creature of myth and legend. It stood at the river’s edge,
delicate ears flicking back and forth, silver horn shining in the sun, its gray
muzzle testing the wind before it stepped out of the dappled shadow of the
trees and lowered its head to drink.

Ashlynne gasped as a small cream-colored foal moved up
beside the unicorn and began to nurse.

The mare’s head went up. With a flash of its tail, it
disappeared into the underbrush, the foal close at its heels.

“Oh!” Ashlynne exclaimed in disappointment. “Weren’t they
beautiful?”

“Yeah, beautiful.” His hand caressed the butt of the gun in
his waistband. “Wonder if they’re good eating.”

Ashlynne stared at him in horror. “You’re not serious!”

“If we stay here long enough, we’ll be needing fresh meat.
The supplies in the ship won’t last more than two or three days.”

“I don’t care. You can’t kill the unicorn. It’s beautiful.
Why, people spend their whole lives hoping to see such a creature.”

Falkon grunted thoughtfully. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it
would be worth more alive.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I imagine I could find someone willing to buy
a unicorn if I could catch it.”

“Do you ever think of anything but money?”

“Right now I’m thinking about you and me.” He stared across
the river, his expression gloomy. “I’m on the run. I’ve got no credits. We need
to find a safe port… I need to get back to Daccar.” He regarded Ashlynne
through narrowed eyes. “You said you were engaged to a wealthy man.”

Alarmed by the speculative look in his eyes, she took a step
back, her hand delving into her pocket to clasp the controller. “Yes.”

“He’d probably pay a pretty hefty sum to get you back.”

“What are you saying?”

“You’re a lot easier to transport than a unicorn. And
probably worth a lot more.”

“What do you mean?” she asked suspiciously.

Falkon shrugged. “I mean, when we get to Arkata, it might be
worth my while to call your fiancé and see how much he’s willing to pay for
your safe return.”

“What do you mean, my safe return?”

“I’ll tell him that you’ve been kidnapped, but I know where
you are, and that for the right price, I’ll deliver you safe and sound.”

“You’re despicable.”

“You sound surprised.”

She stared at him, wondering, hoping, that he was just
joking.

“What’s the matter, princess?”

“Nothing. And stop calling me that!” She turned away, the
beauty of the scene lost on her now. How could she have been such a fool, to
think he actually cared what happened to her. He was nothing but a scoundrel.
“I’m going back to the ship.”

“Can you find your way?”

“Of course.” She started off briskly, eager to get away from
him. Sell her, would he! Well, she’d see about that. He’d wish himself back in
the mine when she got through with him. She’d…she’d…what would she do? Her
fingers stroked the controller. She could cause him pain, but what would that
accomplish? He was her only hope of getting to Trellis. The thought of Falkon
using her as a means to an end stung her pride. Even though Niklaus could well
afford to pay any amount Falkon might demand, she refused to be a part of it.
She’d just have to find some way to get away from him once they reached
Trellis, she decided, because there was no way she was going to let him use her
to make a profit. The cad! And to think she had actually started to care for
him, to feel that he would protect her. He had probably been planning to hold
her for ransom her all along.

The controller, she thought, she had the answer at her
fingertips. Once they landed on Trellis, she would activate the shackles on his
hand and feet and leave him in the ship. With his feet bound, he wouldn’t be
able to follow her. Once they were on Trellis, she would have no trouble
finding transport to Arkata.

She was so busy imagining what it would be like to get the
best of Falkon, she forgot to pay attention to where she was going. She cried
out as she tripped over a gnarled root and went sprawling face down in the
dirt.

“Oh, blast that man!” she exclaimed as she sat up and
examined the cut on her leg. “This is all his fault.”

She wiped the blood from her knee with the hem of her skirt.
Grimacing, she stood up and continued on her way, somewhat surprised when she
actually found the ship.

Climbing up the ladder, she went into the galley and poked around
until she figured out how to get something to eat out of the servidor.

She was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of hot tea, when
Falkon entered the ship a short time later. As soon as she heard the hatch
close behind him, she drew the controller out of her pocket and activated the
manacles.

The sudden closing of the shackles on his feet caused him to
fall. She grinned as she heard him curse.

Rising, she left the galley.

Falkon was sitting up, his back against the bulwark, his
face dark with anger. He lifted his arms. “Turn me loose.”

“No.” She took a step backward.

Falkon glared at her. “Turn. Me. Loose.”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t trust you.”

“Why the hell not? Dammit, I haven’t done anything to you.”
His eyes narrowed. “Oh, I get it. You’re mad, aren’t you? Mad because I said I
was gonna ransom you to your rich boyfriend.”

She didn’t deny it.

“It’s the only way you’ll get home,” he said, his voice
suddenly calm.

“I’m going to bed.” She had checked the cabins earlier,
noting that the larger one had a good strong lock on the door.

“Wait a minute, dammit!”

“What do you want?”

“My freedom,” he said.

“No. Goodnight.”

“How about getting me something to eat then?”

She hesitated, then went into the galley and punched the
controls, wishing it was his face.

Falkon stared at the tray she placed on the floor beside
him. Karu-atar steak, crisp potatoes, blue corn, a cup of black coffee. He
looked up at her. “How do you expect me to eat with my hands like this?”

“That’s your problem,” she replied airily. “I’m going to
bed.”

She stepped past him, shrieked as his hands closed around
her ankles. He gave a sharp tug and she fell face down, her arms trapped
beneath her body, the air whooshing from her lungs.

She yelped as her cheek struck the floor. “Get off me!”

She bucked beneath him, but it was like trying to move a
mountain. He weighed far more than she did.

“Turn me loose.” His voice was an angry whisper in her ear.

“No,” she gasped. “Get off of me! I can’t breathe.”

“And I can’t eat with my hands shackled.”

“You can eat on your hands and knees like the cur you are!”

He swore a violent oath, the words singeing her ears.

Falkon turned her over. As soon as her arms were free, she
swung at him. He swore again as her nails raked his cheek, tearing the skin.
She wriggled out from beneath him and scooted away on her hands and knees,
shrieking as his hands closed on one of her ankles yet again. She kicked
backward with her free leg, heard him grunt as her heel struck him in the face.
She didn’t wait to see how badly he was hurt. Lunging to her feet, she ran down
the companionway, flew into the room she had chosen and closed and locked the
door.

Breathless, she stood in the middle of the floor, her hand
pressed to her heart. When her breathing returned to normal, she put her hand
in her pocket, needing the reassurance of the controller.

With a sinking feeling, she realized it was gone.

* * * * *

Falkon sat up, his head tilted back in an effort to stop the
blood oozing from his nose. He lifted his bound hands to his cheek, wincing as
his fingers came away wet with blood. Damn her! Yet even as he cursed her, he
had to admire her spunk. His princess had claws and wasn’t afraid to use them.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his nostrils
filling with the aroma of steak and potatoes, no doubt cold by now.

Opening his eyes, he regarded the tray on the floor. He had
eaten without utensils before; he could do it again. He was reaching for the
tray when he saw the controller.

A slow smile curved his lips as he reached for it. A moment
later, he was free, truly free, for the first time in months.