Keir Read online

  She flashed what she hoped was a bright smile. “I think you trust me too much.”

  He raised his eyebrows, seeming more perplexed than ever. “You have given me no reason not to.”

  “That may come.”

  She turned abruptly and walked away, leaving him to puzzle over her words.

  Wending her way through the Metraxians, all of whom towered above her, Quin approached the queen and bowed in submission, but her obeisance went unnoticed. T’rill had her eyes half closed as if sinking into a somnolent state, as if caught in a daydream.

  “T’rill?” she called.

  Startled, the queen looked up from her daughters, her expression unexpectedly morose. “Quin.”

  She managed to raise a smile, but it seemed a forced expression to Quin. A nonchalant gesture invited Quin to join the royal party and she knelt beside the couch with the three princesses, who stared at her in avid curiosity. She returned their inquiring looks with one of her own then smiled. The three girls resumed giggling and one tentatively offered Quin a sweet from their bowl.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking one and eating it in a single bite.

  “Don’t stare,” T’rill scolded them. “Imagine how strange we look to her.”

  “We don’t look that strange,” the youngest protested, and was hushed urgently by her older sisters.

  Quin and T’rill both laughed.

  “They are very sweet,” Quin said. “They remind me of you as a child.”

  “Was I ever that young?” T’rill said, with a hint of wistfulness. “I certainly wasn’t that carefree.”

  “Your childhood was more unusual.”

  The queen shuddered. “Being a slave was certainly unusual,” she murmured. “I hope they shall never face such an ordeal.”

  “Why should they?”

  T’rill opened her mouth to speak, but closed it, her eyes avoiding Quin’s.

  Hurt burrowed deep into Quin’s chest at the monarch’s reaction and she wished again that she could read T’rill’s mind and dispel her fears. “T’rill, is something wrong?”

  The queen gazed at Quin before leaning forward in sudden urgency, her turquoise eyes fixed on her friend’s with a desperate, searching intensity. “Quin, have you seen worlds destroyed?” she whispered.

  “Yes, I have. Even my own.”

  “Have you been responsible for it?”

  T’rill seemed to be holding her breath, awaiting her response. Quin knew her resulting silence spoke volumes but couldn’t bring herself to speak immediately, her throat knotting at the memory of a certain world lost to her. “I’ve seen many planets and people die, for many different reasons,” she ventured at last. “The death of my world was my fault, at least in part.”

  The queen jerked back from her as if repulsed.

  “Someone has already told you that, haven’t they?” Quin sighed, reading T’rill’s horror as clearly as if she could read her thoughts. “Are you afraid of me, T’rill? Someone has said something, haven’t they, and now you’re afraid you can’t trust me?”

  “I have trusted you with my life, Quin,” the queen exhaled, and knotted her fingers into the loose folds of her gown. “You were my friend when I had no other. You saved my life, and for that I will always be grateful.”

  “But something has changed now, hasn’t it? Someone has said something to you, made you doubt me. Who was it? What did they say?”

  The saurian monarch took her hands, and met Quin’s eyes. “I swear to you,” she said, “I would not willingly give you up to anyone.”

  Quin jerked her hand from the queen’s grip, deep unease setting her heart racing. “Why would you need to?”

  Before T’rill could continue, a courtier approached them, bowing deeply. “I’m sorry, Your Highness, but the envoy from Camullan is arriving.”

  T’rill made a small sound of exasperation and gestured him away with a dismissive flick of her fingers as if she could banish the envoy along with him. “Very well.” She sighed and rose in one fluid motion, smoothing her attire with a long, slow sweep of her hands. “Quin, forgive me, but I must go and meet them. We have had a trying time with the Camullans and their continuing dispute over our territories. I promise, tomorrow, I will tell you everything that has happened. I believe we are all in danger now.”

  “Then I’ll bid you goodnight, Your Highness, and see you in the morning.”

  Quin rose and bowed, accepting the inevitable. Despite the apprehension knotted tightly in her chest, she gifted the princesses with a broad grin as she left, though she couldn’t help wondering if she should take J’dahzi’s advice and run.

  * * * *

  Unable to resume her conversation with T’rill, Quin had finally declared herself exhausted and asked that they be shown their quarters. The queen’s aide escorted them to their assigned accommodation–two adjoining guest rooms that, to Keir’s dismay, were high in the ornate coral seashell of the palace, requiring them to use the aerial walkways around the outside. As the aide bowed himself out, they stood and faced each other in uncomfortable silence.

  “Well,” Quin said hesitantly, “goodnight, Keir. Sleep well.”

  “And you.”

  She gave him a fleeting smile then raised her hand as if intending to reach for him. He waited, forced himself to hold still, half hoping she would. Turning abruptly, she activated the door lock with her palm, glancing back at him once before she disappeared inside. He waited a fraction longer, certain something had been left unsaid, before slowly entering his own lodgings.

  Low lighting triggered as he came into the room, giving everything a soft yellow glow that was easy on tired eyes. He gave the room a cursory glance. Most of the objects were unfamiliar to him, although the large bed was self-explanatory. A stiff breeze blowing through the chamber stirred the filmy white curtains on the far side into a slow dance, like twining skeins of mist. Brilliant flashes of multicolored lights burst and bloomed like flowers in the sky, drawing him onto a small balcony outside.

  He stood in the shadows and watched them in fascination, the night air cool on his skin and the wind stirring his hair. His quarters overlooked the stone bowl of the plaza in which they had arrived, a deep crater in the craggy mouth of the mountain that cupped the shell-like palace. Even in the glow of the illuminated sky, he could see nothing below the crater’s rim or the landscape beyond, all of it hidden by night’s dark mantle. The stars were white pinpricks, dimmed to insignificance by the explosion of lights and veiled by a mixture of smoke and wispy clouds.

  Amidst the noise and flashes, the sound of movement drew his gaze aside. Quin stepped out onto the adjoining balcony to lean nonchalantly on the ledge and admire the show. The display forgotten, Keir immersed himself deeper in the shadows and watched her instead. Quin had unbound her hair, which now formed a wild red halo around her face. The formal robes had been exchanged for a short black slip that ended mid-thigh, and a long-sleeved robe of black lace. The gentle curves of her slim figure showed through the fabric. His eyes strayed to the white skin of her legs, like fine marble shaped and smoothed. What would it feel like to touch? Cool like stone? Or warm like velvet, soft as silk?

  Unease tightened his muscles, and he tried to pull his gaze away. A Salusian woman would never expose herself like that. But she does not know I am here. I should not be looking. Even as he thought it, even as he berated himself for it, his gaze drifted back. A smile arched her lips as she watched the skies, as enchanted as a child. A stronger gust of wind brushed the hair back from her face and folded the satin cloth of her outfit taut around her figure.

  A sudden sense of elation overwhelmed him, combined with the heat T’rill had inspired. Desire wrapped tight arms around his body. The heady mix stole his breath. No. Shame burned his skin. Quin was his friend, the first he had ever had. The first person to show him kindness in more years than he could count. Yet at that moment he wanted more. For the first time in remembrance, he wanted to touch and be touched in return. To
hold her and have her return his embrace freely, with more than a friend’s affection. To feel her white skin under his fingertips. To brush the hair from her face as the breeze did now, and run his fingers through it.

  His thoughts dishonored her gift of friendship to him.

  How would she react if she knew? How could he even think she might feel the same for him? Someone who was not even human, someone descended from the creature that had destroyed everything she had loved. Her own words. Bitter disappointment and guilt swamped him at the depth of his desire. What he wanted was impossible and it was madness to think otherwise.

  If he was going to be honest with himself, he knew he should leave now instead of tormenting himself by imagining what could never be. But he could not make his legs obey and so he stood in the shadows, and watched.

  They both started when a vivid red star exploded close to their balconies, and she grinned as it was followed by a rapid series of smaller percussions and star-bursts. She lifted her chin to gaze up into the sky, the scarlet flare highlighting her elfin face and auburn hair.

  Disturbed by the noise and his own conflicting emotions, Keir retreated back into his room, folding his troubled feelings deep inside where she would not be able to sense them. He sat morosely on the bed before throwing himself backward and thumping his balled fists into the surface, but his childish aggression was wasted on the padded mattress. Closing his eyes as if blocking out all sight would banish the images and thoughts within, he covered his face with his hands before running them viciously through his hair.

  * * * *

  Entranced by the display, Quin stayed outside for the entire show. She sighed as the last few embers dwindled into ghostly wisps of smoke. The call signal from her door fell into the silence following the fireworks, drawing her back inside. As she crossed the room to answer it, she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth down the untidy mane. The Metraxians found the concept of hair almost amusing, having none themselves.

  Before she reached it, the door opened from the outside and two shrouded figures leaped at her. A hand clapped over her mouth before she could scream and something sprayed across her face, something that burned the inside of her nose as she drew a breath. Sudden lethargy swept through her and she sagged into the arms of her captors.

  “Keir!”

  * * * *

  Quin’s sudden distressed cry hammered into his mind and yanked him from the bed. Keir dashed across the room. The door swished aside at his approach, and he swung himself into the adjoining open doorway. Two figures–large men dressed in black–had bundled Quin up in a blanket and were about to carry her out the main door.

  A pair of strong limbs grabbed him from behind, pinioning his arms to his sides. Automatically, he jabbed backward with one elbow, turning to seize his assailant and throw him to the ground as he had been trained. The two holding Quin dropped her and dived at Keir in unison, gripping his arms and pinning him down. As he struggled helplessly, one of them sprayed something into his face, the smell choking him and stinging his eyes. He took a breath without thinking and his lungs burst into sullen flame before he passed out.

  Chapter 11

  A rushing sound flooded the blackness and blood pounded through his head. Dull aches punctuated his body and his throat was sore. A bitter taste lined his mouth. The air felt warm despite the breeze blowing unchecked across his body. He could smell the sea and hear leaves rustling in the wind.

  Keir opened his eyes with reluctance, feeling them burn still. At first he saw only a blur of colors but blinked until his vision cleared. Blue sea stretched to the horizon. Beneath him lay cool, pinkish sand shaded by an awning of some kind overhead. The crashing of the nearby waves only served to emphasize the thumping pain in his skull. He pushed himself onto all fours and stayed there without moving, head down as his stomach churned with violent spasms. He tried to fight it, but eventually succumbed to the rising nausea and vomited onto the sand.

  Once he had emptied his stomach and finished spitting the foul taste from his mouth, he managed to rise to his knees, clutching his still-swimming head. Struggling to his feet and swaying, he spotted Quin lying motionless nearby and staggered over to her in panic, dropping at her side. Searching for a pulse, relief suffused him on finding a strong and regular rhythm beneath his fingers. He tried to rouse her, but she remained limp and unresponsive. Whatever had been used to drug them had clearly had a more lasting effect on her.

  Having made sure she could breathe freely, he sat back on his heels and looked around. They had been left lying under a raised triangle of simple brown sheeting, pegged into the sand at one corner with the other two lifted on a framework of ridged poles. To either side of the makeshift tent, the sandy coastline stretched as far as he could see, forming a wide crescent that embraced the ocean. To his left, a small mountain rose behind the tree line, while to his right a band of trees followed the beach, with no significant landmarks to be seen and nothing in the water beyond.

  At a loss, he sat back to stare out to sea and his hand brushed something hard and smooth. Turning, he found a blue box half-buried in the sand. Curiously he opened the lid and a blast of chilled air from within froze his fingertips. Inside were several cold, clear bottles, all unmarked and packed tightly together. He took one out, removed the lid with difficulty and sniffed. It had no discernible smell. He took an experimental sip. It seemed to be plain, iced water and he drank half the bottle eagerly before pressing the chilled glass against his forehead. The coldness of it dispelled the remaining fog and soothed his aching skull. After a while he drank the remaining water more leisurely, wondering why someone had drugged, kidnapped and abandoned them, yet seen fit to provide them with shade and water. Was this the danger J’dahzi had tried to warn them about?

  Quin groaned. He knelt at her side and poured some water into the palm of his hand, then sprinkled drops onto her face. She rolled onto her back, opening bleary eyes.

  “Keir …” she moaned.

  “Come on.” He helped her sit up, cradling her awkwardly as he tried to give her some water.

  She had only taken a mouthful before her eyes went wide in alarm. “Oh, no …” she managed before she turned away to be sick. Once it was over, he passed her the water bottle and she used some to wash her mouth out. Afterward, she sat back, pale and shaken, and drank deeply until she had finished it all. Having emptied it she stared in sudden horror at the bottle in her hand, as if seeing it clearly for the first time.

  “Where did you get this?” she demanded.

  Keir pointed out the box.

  “And you’ve drunk it too?”

  “You think it may be poisoned? I have felt nothing yet.”

  Quin hesitated, then shrugged and took out another bottle, swallowing greedily until she emptied it, despite the misgivings she had voiced. “Not that any of this makes sense, but I think if they were going to kill us, we’d be dead already. Why strand us here and then poison us later?”

  “Why strand us here at all?”

  She put a hand over her face and groaned again, her other hand clenching across her stomach.

  “Are you all right?”

  “No.”

  Keir sat next to her and she leaned against him gratefully, resting her head on his shoulder.

  “What about you?”

  “I will survive.” He scanned the beach to see if anything else obvious had been left for them. “Do you think this is still Metraxi?”

  “Probably. I can’t be certain, I’ve never been anywhere except the palace.” She scooped up a handful of pinkish sand and ran it through her fingers in contemplation. “I know the planet is mostly covered in chains of small, tropical islands. I think our kidnappers would have found it difficult to move us off world undetected, though it’s not impossible.”

  “We should look inland, see if they have provided us with anything else,” he suggested, anxious to be on the move.

  Her assent came as a halfhearted murmur and he helped he
r to her feet. She was very unsteady and, with a degree of reluctance, Keir put his arm around her for support. Dressed only in her thin nightclothes, the warmth of her skin beneath scorched him.

  “Keir, you’re trembling.” She placed one hand over his.

  “I am all right,” he assured her, silently cursing his tremors.

  Being in such close contact with Quin seemed an unbearable torture. There could be no doubt that she needed him–Quin appeared to have lost all sense of balance, walking as though drunk–but having to hold her so tightly to prevent her from falling only made him more aware of the heat of her skin, the softness of her body pressed into his. A warm, floral scent filled his nostrils. He flinched as she slid her arm around his waist in return. It felt verging on the sacrilegious to be touching her when she was in such a vulnerable state.

  He focused on their feet as a distraction, ensuring that Quin would not stumble. They followed the line of trees, not like those he had known on Salusan, or even Lyagnius, but with ridged stems and long, blade-shaped leaves sprouting along their length like oversized bamboo. Keir spotted what appeared to be a path through the giant grasses. Someone had even gone to the trouble of lining the narrow route with thin wooden handrails tied to the neighboring trees, a sure sign that the island had not been a random choice.

  The trail twisted and turned through the thick vegetation, taking them deeper into the shade until it reached a secluded clearing. Ahead of them emerged a basic, though well-built, hut, raised from the ground on sturdy timber legs, with rough stone steps leading up to a sheltered veranda. Dry leaves covered the peaked roof.

  The front door stood open, a silent invitation that only increased their wariness. Inside, a narrow room had been set up as a simple kitchen with a table and two chairs. Two large, plastic tubs yielded rice and some type of grain neither found familiar. Cupboards lined the walls, stocked with utensils, packets of basic rations, fishing equipment and long, sharp knives. Set into one stone surface beneath a window were two gleaming black discs that Quin identified as heat sources, although she had no idea what powered them. She laughed as she pulled out a small, flat device with a screen from one of the cupboards.