Constant Read online

“I also wanted to say goodbye.”

  Rathmar had no desire to live in Thrace after his work was done. But she had hoped… “Did you hear that Zeus was not kidnapped but is helping a group of Fal’Amoric return to Valespia? He will be home soon.”

  Rathmar was shaking his head before she even finished her statement. “He will never want to see me again. I made him believe terrible things… it does not matter. What was once between us can never be put back together.”

  She pursed her lips. She would not argue, understanding that Zeus and Rathmar would never again be lovers, but at one time, they had been the best of friends. Surely something of that relationship could be salvaged. She refused to give up on them. “Are you going to say goodbye to Ariafella?”

  He looked over his shoulder to where Ariafella swam, his expression pensive. “I should not.”

  She smiled, knowing he would at least speak to Ariafella before he left the city.

  “If you have need of me, for anything,” Rathmar continued. “Whirlwind will know where to find me.”

  Ashari embraced him, not letting him go when he squirmed. “You will always be one of mine and have a home with us. Never doubt that. Your siblings are safe at my family’s vineyard. Timsah will not think to look for them there. They have a room for you as well, if you wanted to join your siblings.”

  “Thank you for everything you have done for me,” he rasped, not answering her question.

  Her heart squeezed. They should have done something more for him. “It was never enough.”

  “You saved our lives, that was plenty. The rest was up to us,” he reassured, his arms finally clenching around her. She would always disagree.

  “Go to the infirmary and have your wounds tended. I will send Ariafella to you.”

  He looked as if he would argue, but she put on her best ‘do not argue with Meme’ face, and he relented with a sheepish grin flirting at the edges of his wounded lips. Before she exited the palace, she signaled the guards to follow and keep him safe.

  When Ashari stepped out onto the balcony, the sun was a hot ball of flame at the apex of the sky. Below was the sandy beach only used by people the Crown gave permission to, which was only a handful outside of those who permanently resided at the palace. Two banister-less balconies overlooked the private inlet, perfect platforms for diving if one did not wish to descend three flights of stairs. She stood on the top-most one looking down into the clear turquoise inlet. The drop-off started only one and a half meters from the shore, where the water turned a deeper blue. The waves were calm, the area protected by the carefully crafted surf walls farther out in deeper Waters.

  She walked to the edge, planning to get Ariafella’s attention and send her after Rathmar. The smell off the ocean was strong, the wind causing her robes to snap around her legs. Ariafella was not the only one swimming. Next to her was someone Ashari could not identify, their yellow and green coloring was so different from what she was used to seeing on a Mar’Sani. She frowned down at them, immediately knowing the being had not been inside the palace. Their presence would have caused too much talk. The longer she stared, the more she was filled aby an uncanny certainty that she knew the person. But where had she met this person?

  Ariafella suddenly swam to the shore and bypassed her swimming robe to sprint up the stairs. Puzzled, Ashari hurriedly descended to meet her on the second-floor balcony. Her future daughter’s eyes were wide, and her hands trembled as she held out a small, shell-encrusted scroll.

  “He said not to go down to the beach. He would leave right away if you descended the last flight of stairs,” Ariafella said in a rush.

  “I do not understand. Who is it?”

  Ariafella’s eyes turned liquid as if she wanted to cry. “Just… do as he says. Read the scroll. He said you could go to the edge of the balcony and look out, but do not enter the water. His farsight has warned him there would be dire consequences if you did.”

  Ashari was well acquainted with the trickiness of farsight. Though now she was curious, and her body hummed as if… as if… oh, Poseidon help her. With trembling hands, Ashari tore open the scroll case and upon seeing the very first word she crumpled to her knees.

  Meme.

  Tears clouded her vision. She was thrust backward in time to that terrible day when her littlest youngling went missing. She knew this hum in her body, this awareness of the tether between her and her young. They were all a great distance away, her tie to them stretched and quiet. The hum would only be persistent if one was close. Did she dare hope? After all these summers would she be granted such a wonderful boon?

  Hurriedly wiping at her face, she gave a reassuring smile. Ariafella looked scared. “Should I have sent him away?”

  Ashari clutched her hand. “No, my darling. You did nothing wrong. It was just a shock. Give me a moment.”

  Taking a fortifying breath, she smoothed out the sheet she had accidentally crumpled in her hand.

  * * *

  Meme,

  I wish I could stand next to you right now, but I have foreseen it is not yet time. But soon we will be reunited, and I pray you are able to forgive me once I tell you about my journey.

  The reason I have come is that Azaes, Mestor, and Zeus need you. Circumstances will force them to go to Valespia and there a trap has been set for them. Beware, the V’Saar have allies and they seek to acquire Zeus, as well as the current Galactic Imperials. Take our best warships and be ready for battle, otherwise Valespia will fall, Zeus will be taken, and the V’Saar will bring down the grid. We will not survive the horde’s surge.

  For now, if you can bear to look upon me, come to the edge of the balcony so that I can see you. I have only faded memories of your voice and face. I would like to see you again before I begin the next part of my journey.

  * * *

  Your ever loving son,

  Canry

  * * *

  “Poseidon give me strength,” she whispered before looking to Ariafella. “Assist me, if you will. I may need help walking. My legs are unsteady.”

  With Ariafella’s arm around her waist, she rose to her feet, swaying slightly.

  “To the edge, Ariafella. I need to see him.” Her request was barely a whisper.

  Each step made Ashari’s heart pound harder. When she finally stood at the edge of the balcony, looking down into the clear turquoise water, she laid eyes on her lost son for the first time in almost twenty-eight summers. The distance was great, and she could barely discern his features, but she saw him and could not get enough. She wanted to shout for joy and wail in sorrow. Though he was near, they would not yet reunite. If she had only this one look to fortify her, then the pain in her heart would not let her turn away. If necessary, she would wait her entire life for her son to return.

  “He does not look like Azaes or Mestor,” Ariafella said softly. “Are we sure it is Canry?”

  “Yes, it is he,” she reassured. “His tie is humming with his nearness. I would be able to feel him no matter what he looked like. He is more beautiful than I could ever have imagined.”

  They stayed like that for a long while. The wind coming off the sea smelled sweet and made her blood sing. Finally, Canry lifted a hand in farewell and a new ache bloomed in her chest. She wanted to call, “Not yet, please!” but instead, she too lifted her hands, palms facing her for she was not pushing out, but inviting him back. Unable to help herself, Ashari called as loudly as she could, “I love you!” Using her voice, as well as the language of the hands. She desperately needed him to know.

  Canry paused, signing to her. ::My heart overflows with my love for you. I will see you soon:: Then he dove.

  Looking down on the clear water, his swimming figure was easy to see. Even from this distance, the energy wave hit her, exactly like the day he had disappeared. He was there one moment and gone the next, vanishing in the blink of an eye.

  She wanted to cry and scream because it felt like losing him all over again, but she could not allow herself the luxur
y. Canry had come to her for help and there was much to be done. Changes were coming, and she would welcome it all, good and bad, if it brought her son home.

  “Come, Ariafella.” Ashari straightened her shoulders and turned to the stairs. “You need to see Rathmar in the infirmary before he leaves. Then come find me in Valdor’s office. We will be leaving for Valespia as soon as I can outfit our warships.”

  Ariafella was clearly pensive.

  Ashari stopped before entering the palace. “If I may ask, what did he say to you?”

  “That we would be traveling,” Ariafella said, searching Ashari’s eyes. “And to make sure Timsah came with us. Then he turned more cryptic, telling me not worry about Rathmar, things would turn out as they should.” Her pause was full of frustration. “I am not sure I like this farsight business.”

  “It is not an easy gift and in the wrong hands, can corrupt. It is why Valdor and my young use it sparingly. It also helps that there is a physical cost to using the sight that deters misuse.”

  Ashari looked out over the Waters of Poseidon. “Usually, farsight only reaches so far into the future before the variables, such as actions and decisions, change the course from one moment to the next. There are an unimaginable number of outcomes, and everyone’s ability is different.” She clutched the scroll to her chest. Such farseeing as Canry showed her today was unheard of.

  With this new worry, Ashari entered the palace. Her family needed her in Valespia. Once that business was concluded, she decided she would search for her wayward son. She knew down to her bones that he needed her, and now that he had shown himself, nothing could keep her from him. Somehow, she would bring him home.

  Chapter One

  Sohm’lan

  * * *

  Unable to sleep, Warlord Sohm’lan Myrmidon stalked the corridor of the star craft, The Gorgon. Soldiers and officers alike quickly moved out of his way, his roiling frustration almost a physical presence that warned discerning Mar’Sani away. Instead of returning to their home planet after catching up to Zeus and the Oethra 7, they hurtled through space toward the seat of the Galactic Empire, Valespia, chased by secrets and growing dangers that followed the Fal’Amoric.

  It had been almost a week since mercenaries hacked The Gorgon’s data core, allowing them to steal aboard with none the wiser until it was almost too late. The psionic pirates had closed off sections of the ship, trapping soldiers away from the bridge where Sohm’lan had been with the Crown Princes, Heir Apparent Prince Azaes Vondorian and his twin, Prince Mestor.

  He lashed his tail harder, the old anger rising as he remembered how a soldier called the bridge, reporting blood-scent in one of the corridors before the communication was cut-off. That had been their only warning of the coming trouble. He snarled an apology when he barely refrained from hitting a passing officer with his thick tail, distracted once again by the remembrance of Prince Mestor’s rash actions. Mar’Sani were a contradiction. They were a warrior race that lived in and valued peace but studied war as if they fought one daily. So instead of remaining behind the bridge’s blast doors to protect his brother, the brat had joined Sohm’lan to fight in the corridor with only a few soldiers and Monticore who were able to answer Prince Azaes’ emergency summons.

  “Foolish youngling,” Sohm’lan grumbled affectionately, though he was still angry.

  He knew better than most how capable the prince was in battle. The youngest Vondorian twin was an accomplished and decorated warrior, one of the best Atlainticia had to offer. Sohm’lan just… as unseemly as the compulsion was, he wanted to protect his fellow warlord, and not in the professional sense. Prince Mestor was special to him, not that he did not love his other watersons and waterdaughter, they were all precious to him. But somehow, Prince Mestor had wiggled into a part of Sohm’lan’s heart that had been barred against all others.

  Frustration growing, he pushed all thoughts of the prince and the battle for The Gorgon from his mind. They both were the reasons for his continued insomnia. Since he could not sleep, he would put his time to better use by interrogating the prisoners. The brig held several of the hostile forces who attempted to wrest control of The Gorgon from them. The mercenaries’ main goal had been to recapture the Fal’Amoric, who were being escorted to the Galactic Imperials by the Oethra 7. The youngest Vondorian prince had been travelling—Sohm’lan barely withheld a snort because really, Prince Zeus had been kidnapped, if only for a short period. By the time The Gorgon had caught up with the Oethra 7, the situation had changed, and Prince Zeus was assisting his abductors. He had decided to accompany the crew of the Oethra 7 who were returning their precious cargo, the missing Fal’Amoric royal family, to the safety of Valespia.

  The Galactic Imperials were comprised of three key species whose responsibility was to keep the Imperial Defense Grid from falling. The Grid was a protective wall, keeping the bug species called the V’Saar from leaving their small galaxy that was nestled between the Milky Way and Andromeda. If the Grid fell, the bug horde would quickly wipe out everything and everyone in their path, devouring resources and crushing civilizations. The Galactic Imperials kept that from happening by keeping the V’Saar behind a protective shield.

  The current Triumphant—the Galactic Imperials—were getting old and their handle on the Grid occasionally slipped. When Sohm’lan had interrogated the V’Saar captured along with the pirates, he had learned that more holes were forming in the shield, allowing small numbers of V’Saar to slip through. The tears in the barrier never stayed open long, but obviously the bugs could still cross if they were fast enough. The time was approaching for the next Triumphant to take over, but they were missing a key member, the Bespoken. The Fal’Amoric on the Oethra 7 were kin to the Bespoken and the target of the mercenaries who had attacked The Gorgon. Sohm’lan planned to learn why there was so much interest in the Fal’Amoric royal family, especially considering that the Bespoken was not among them.

  Currently, he had in custody several Dire D’Noss and Quell mercenaries as well as a T’Sali claiming to be a ‘lowly’ merchant. The most disturbing prisoner was the single V’Saar, but when they were finished with the deadly bug, it would be sent back to its galaxy where it would deliver a message from Alpha, Dargon’s symbiote.

  Blindly passing the beautifully painted murals of Mar’Sani life, he went over the questions he had for his prisoners. He acknowledged the guards at the entrance to the brig as he approached. The Gorgon had been designed for the Atlaintician royal family with all the amenities they would need while offworld. Emperor Valdor sometimes used the star craft to meet ambassadors or leaders of allied worlds. Because of this, there was a small problem with the brig. The Gorgon was intended for diplomatic purposes and the design did not call for many holding cells. The mercenaries taken into custody filled most of them and if they took on more prisoners, they would be hard-pressed to have appropriate accommodations for them.

  He greeted several more guards while approaching the brig’s command center. The room was made from a glass that could withstand an assault of both energy and projectile weapons. Six specialists oversaw the various panels that controlled every aspect of the prisoners’ cells.

  Suspended outside the walls of the command center were clear balls, each one holding a single prisoner. There were no amenities within the spheres. Several times a day, the cells cycled to the lavatory, where the ball maneuvered to rest on top of the opaque cube, dropping the being inside where they could relieve themselves and use a sonic shower. Though the walls of the lavatory gave the being a small modicum of privacy, they were still monitored by one of the specialists. When finished, the ball gently sucked them back into its center.

  As Sohm’lan observed, several cells with Dire D’Noss rotated as the occupants walked or ran. Dire D’Noss’s history stated that they had evolved from invertebrates, their evolution giving them an internal skeleton over time as they lost their exoskeleton. Many scientists had claimed such a transformation was impossible until a Dire D�
�Noss was born with chitinous exoskeletons adhered to their skin. In those rare cases, the plates never covered their entire bodies, only joints or vulnerable areas.

  He would choose one to interrogate, the question was which one. The females were known to be more volatile, and they often vented their bloodlust on the males of their species. Although, considering the regular abuse, one should never assume the males were docile. They were just as competitive, fierce, and savage, and they so happened to adore females more vicious than themselves.

  Sohm’lan slowly walked behind the specialists, considering his options. He was not surprised to see Warlord Aspasia poring through the interrogation reports. She raised her gaze, her brown reptilian eyes going wide when she sighted him.

  “Chief Warlord,” she greeted, scratching the dark gray scales at her uniform collar. She sat on a backless chair that not only accommodated her tail but also her inability to relax the small, black ridge of barbs along her spine. Unlike Sohm’lan or the royal family, some Mar’Sani did not have retractable spinal barbs or musculature that allowed the boney protrusions to lay flat against their backs. “You are up late. What can I do for you?”

  He nodded his head toward her vidscreen. “Which one would you suggest I speak with?”

  Her thin, dark lips pulled down into a frown. “They are all being obstinate, declaring they will not talk until they are provided representation from the Mercenary Guild. Of course, we cannot meet that demand until we reach Valespia.”

  “Which will do us absolutely no good in the meantime,” Sohm’lan finished for her. “Their primary vessel is still tracking us. We need to know what to expect. From my conversations with Captain Dargon Kal-Turak, the mercenaries have a psi-tracker tuned to the Fal’Amoric.”

  Captain Dargon oversaw the Oethra 7 and was on a secret mission for Galactic Crown Prince Malek tut de Luuk. The mercenaries had damaged the Oethra 7 before they arrived at the Imperial Space Station Bashker’Qa, where Prince Zeus had worked as a master mechanic. When the mercenaries caught up with the Oethra 7, Prince Zeus had been repairing their fusion drive. Instead of waiting long enough for the job to be completed, Captain Dargon decided to take Prince Zeus with them, initially against his will.