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  “I – I need to think about this,” Laura said.

  “Of course. Take as much time as you require. You are welcome to remain here as long as you like.”

  Her mouth fell open. “I’m... welcome?”

  He smiled with genuine warmth. “Should you not be?”

  “We’re enemies—”

  “I am perhaps at odds with your government, but you are not my enemy, Mrs. Howard. You are a friend of my wife.”

  Laura drew a sharp breath and turned to Marianne. “You’re married?”

  “The Tolari equivalent,” Marianne answered. “They don’t have anything like human marriage, but bonding is for life.”

  “Beloved,” the Sural said, “I must go.” He came around the table and bent to briefly touch his forehead to hers. Then he strode out of the refectory, Kyza on his heels, scurrying to keep up. Storaas rose, gave Marianne a bow, and followed them. When they were gone, Laura looked back at Marianne with a thoughtful expression.

  “He really loves you,” she said.

  Marianne blinked. “You can tell?”

  “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

  “Not to most humans, no. Nor even to most Tolari. He’s – well, he’s a different kettle of fish, really.”

  “He didn’t even hesitate when that horrible man went for you.” Laura shook her head. “Powerful men. They protect what’s theirs.”

  Marianne looked out the refectory door. “I’ve never seen the Sural like that.” She shivered, looking back at Laura. The older woman was past hunger. “The apothecaries said you hadn’t been harmed, but you were in that trunk at least a day. How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

  Laura shrugged. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Yes, you are. How long?”

  She heaved a sigh. “I don’t know.”

  “So at least a day ago, probably more. God, Laura, you need to eat. Do you like spicy food?”

  Laura hiccupped a laugh. “Yes, I love it.”

  Marianne grinned and grabbed a grain roll from a trencher on the table. “Here, try this. If it’s too spicy for you, drink some tea with it. That cools the heat.”

  Laura took a small bite. She smiled. “Nice!” Then her eyes went huge. She gulped down some tea, trying not to laugh and cough at the same time. “Wow,” she wheezed. “Nuclear fusion.”

  “It did take me some years to get used to it.”

  In spite of the spiciness, Laura ate the entire roll – which was better than Marianne had been able to manage at her first meal on Tolar. “I don’t think that man was going to let me live,” Laura said when she slowed down. She paused and took a breath. “The Sural saved my life, didn’t he?”

  “In more ways than one,” Marianne said with a nod, and reached over to pat her hand. “You look tired. Let me show you to the guest wing. You look like you could use some rest.”

  Chapter Eight

  After showing her how to work the controls in the bathing area and in the necessary, Marianne left Laura falling asleep in her new quarters and strolled through the garden in the early evening, restless after the eventful afternoon. Music floated on the air. She smiled and picked up her pace, hoping to find Thela in one of the gazebos. She was pleased to find the girl practicing, playing a technically demanding piece of music without using her gift. The man Marianne now knew to be Thela’s father was relaxing on a bench in the pavilion, listening. Marianne stopped a short distance away to listen.

  The man noticed her. Marianne gave him a smile and continued to listen, admiring Thela’s virtuosity. The climatologist left his place in the gazebo, starting down the steps to meet her. As he did so, his robe caught on – something, she couldn’t see what – and flared out behind him.

  “No!” she cried, as he turned awkwardly and tripped, twisting as he fell.

  Thela’s instrument dropped, shattering, as she lunged for him. Her father tumbled down the gazebo steps with a startled yelp, stopping when his head impacted the paving stones at the bottom. A soul-ripping pain blazed through Marianne, knocking the wind out of her and doubling her over. Thela screamed.

  “Apothecaries!” Marianne gasped at the nearest guard. She stumbled toward the spot where Thela’s father lay sprawled face up on the gazebo steps, staring sightlessly into the early evening sky. Blood pooled under his head.

  Thela threw herself across her father’s body. “Come back, Father, come back!” She grabbed one of his arms and shook him. Panic rolled around her. “Come back come back come back!”

  “Thela,” Marianne said in a soft voice. She put a hand on the girl’s shoulder to pull her away. Thela turned and threw her arms around Marianne, clinging to her waist and sobbing, her emotions surging.

  “Hush, child,” Marianne said, stroking her hair. “Hush.”

  Thela’s senses beat against her in wild panic. Without thinking, Marianne caught hold of them and wrapped them up with her own. The world faded away.

  Grief and loss coursed through Thela, searing Marianne’s heart in its intensity. She reached along the hurt and tried to calm it. She couldn’t blunt the pain, but Thela’s panic began to subside. She wrapped her arms around the girl, deep instinct guiding her. Thela needed her. Her embrace tightened. Mine now.

  Slowly, Thela began to relax. Marianne, though absorbed with soothing her, was nevertheless aware of the presence of others when help began to arrive. She grew wary.

  “There is nothing I can do for him,” said a voice, too close. Cena.

  Marianne’s jaw clamped. She would not allow anyone to disturb Thela now. Then a gentle probe came from Cena. She tightened her hold on the girl.

  The Sural’s presence approached. “How did this happen?” he asked, shock and grief coloring his voice.

  “High one,” said a voice she didn’t know, “the scientist caught his robe. He tripped and fell, and struck his head on the paving stones. The child and the Marann attempted to aid him, but they were not able to arrest his fall.”

  That must be a guard, Marianne thought, as she began to become aware of her surroundings. Thela relaxed a little more, loosening her grip on Marianne.

  “It’s all right,” Marianne whispered. “It’s all right.” More of Thela’s panic ebbed.

  “High one, they are bonding.” Cena’s voice again.

  A hand touched her arm. The Sural. “Beloved,” he called softly. “Marianne.”

  Marianne opened her eyes. Guards, aides, and servants filled her view. Cena. The Sural. Her eyes narrowed. Too close. Too many!

  “It would be better if you let this bond go,” he said.

  A probe came from him. With a shock, Marianne realized he was prying delicately at her connection with Thela. He put his other hand on the girl’s shoulder.

  MINE! A reflex she didn’t know she possessed galvanized her. Marianne snarled and swept Thela away from the Sural. Putting her own body between them, she raised an arm, threatening, ready to strike him if necessary.

  He took a step backward, raising his hands. She turned back to Thela, but continued to watch the Sural with a wary eye. He edged closer and touched her shoulder again. The world faded into radiance as he poured himself into her through their pair-bond. She blinked and gradually met his eyes, unable to see anything but him. Then she growled under her breath. No one was going to take Thela from her, not even the Sural.

  He reached into her and ... pulled. Thela’s senses tore loose, surging toward him. Marianne staggered, disoriented, her vision clearing. Cena caught her and pulled her away as Thela threw her arms around the Sural.

  With a sense of loss she couldn’t quite define, Marianne looked around her, once more fully aware of her surroundings. Apothecary aides had covered the body and were carrying it away on a litter. A servant was cleaning the stones at the base of the gazebo steps. A short distance away, Thela hugged the Sural, who held her with eyes closed. Wild panic danced in the air around them.

  Confused, she met Cena’s eyes. “The last thing I remember is trying to pull T
hela away from her father’s body,” she said. “What happened?”

  “She tried to bond you to herself,” Cena answered. With a wary glance at the Sural, she pulled Marianne farther away. “Traumatic bonding is very powerful,” she continued as they made their way toward the keep. “We must leave them.”

  Marianne looked back. “Will they be all right?” she asked.

  “The Sural knows what he is doing,” she replied. “But this initial bonding – do you remember how you felt? Do you remember threatening him?” Marianne blanched. “If they are disturbed, he will do the same. Rulers are very dangerous, high one, the Sural most of all, and I do not want to provoke him.”

  Marianne shuddered. “I didn’t know what was happening,” she said.

  “No, you could not have known. She panicked and on instinct sought to bond with the nearest adult. She could not help herself, high one.”

  “I felt it too.” Marianne’s throat constricted on the words. “I felt him die.”

  “It is a difficult experience,” Cena agreed.

  Marianne shuddered again. “It was horrible. Worse than the pilot.”

  The healer’s voice was soft and hinted of memory. “Yes. It only grows worse.”

  * * *

  Storaas shut his barriers as tightly as he could and headed for the transit room. Two deaths in one day, in a single afternoon, had shredded him. The first, at least, would not be mourned. The second… the second was a tragedy that had left the stronghold in shock.

  And he’d felt it all, raw and unprepared.

  His favorite transport pod was there, hovering over the exit shaft, waiting for him. It knew he was coming – somehow, it always did. Small and designed to carry two persons, the creature was a hollow crystalline ovoid just two strides long and a stride in width. He settled himself into it with relief.

  “You know where I wish to go, my friend.”

  The pods were barely sentient, bred to serve. Eager to please him, it dropped at high speed into the shaft down to the transport tunnels. In spite of his distress, Storaas smiled. The creature’s simple pleasure soothed him.

  Few were sensitive enough to detect a transport pod’s emotions. Storaas sometimes cursed the gift that made him one of those few. He was cursing it now, as he fled to escape the emotional aftershocks that reverberated through the stronghold like lightning. It was too much, wracked as he was from experiencing two deaths in quick succession with his empathic barriers mostly down.

  He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath. With the Sural occupied by the unfortunate Thela, any business for the day had come to a halt. It was his responsibility as chief advisor to keep things running smoothly in the Sural’s absence, but he had been too shattered to focus. He had canceled the rest of the official meetings for the day and left.

  The transport pod rocketed out of the tunnels under the city and into the clear green waters of the Bay of Suralia, heading for the channel out into the deep ocean. As it descended, he felt blanketed by the weight of the sea around him. He was alone, too far from city and stronghold to sense the emotions of others.

  Heaving a sigh, he let the pod know how very grateful he was.

  * * *

  It was late in the night when the Sural joined Marianne under her blanket, fatigue rolling off him in waves. She curled up against his side.

  “You’re exhausted,” she said.

  He nodded in the moonlight and threw an arm over his head, staring up at the dark ceiling. “Forgive me for using our bond against you, beloved. It was the only action I thought might distract you from protecting Thela.”

  “I understand.”

  He sighed and gave her a puzzled look. “You are not angry.”

  She kissed his shoulder. “Should I be?”

  “It was ... not well done of me to use our bond in that manner.”

  Marianne started to shrug but kissed his shoulder again instead. “Is Thela all right?”

  “As well as she can be, under the circumstances. She will need a great deal of attention in the coming days. Kyza needed me as well. It was a very ... arduous evening.”

  “And now you have two daughters?”

  He nodded again. “I have become her father by accepting her bond. I will order her moved to quarters in the family wing tomorrow.” He sighed. “How is your friend?”

  “Still sleeping. She had a pretty bad day herself. Beloved, what do we do about her locater chip?”

  “We will remove it.”

  She gasped. “Against her will?”

  He cocked an eyebrow at her. “We have not asked her yet,” he replied. “But yes, against her will if she refuses and you cannot convince her. I cannot allow her to remain here with the chip intact, but I cannot with honor send her back into human space and certain death.”

  “So the chip comes out, whether she likes it or not,” she said, the idea souring her mood. “I’ll talk to her. Can you give me a couple of days to convince her, if she’s reluctant?”

  “I can give you until another human ship approaches our space,” he said, and closed his eyes. Then radiance brightened the night as he flowed into their bond. “Beloved,” he whispered, “I need you.” He rolled onto his side and stroked her face with his fingertips. “Let me find some joy today.”

  * * *

  Dawn brought a flashing light and a dull tone from her comms unit. She groaned as it woke her. “I don’t believe this,” she muttered. She threw on a robe and grabbed her hairbrush.

  The Sural was in her sitting room reading reports when she came in, running a brush through her hair as she walked. “Do you ever sleep?” she asked.

  He chuckled and checked his tablet. “Perhaps you should answer your comms.”

  She scowled at him as she sat at her desk to accept the connection. The face of Adeline Russell blinked back at her on the monitor. “What do you want,” Marianne snapped.

  “Funny, that’s what I was just about to ask you,” Adeline answered with a smile.

  “What I want, Addie, is for you and your goons to stop calling me at dawn.”

  “Oh, is it that early where you are? I’m so sor—” Marianne killed the connection.

  The Sural chuckled again.

  “And what’s so amusing?” she asked him archly.

  “Perhaps you should get a little more sleep,” he said. “You are rather – what is the word – cranky, and I am informed that your friend is still asleep.”

  She growled and went back to her mat, but sleep eluded her. She communed with her unborn daughter instead, cradling her empathically and stroking her into a contented little glow. It soothed her own temper, mostly; when she rejoined the Sural in the sitting room afterward, she felt a little better.

  “What will you do today?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she answered, calmer but still feeling a little out of sorts. “Probably spend a lot of time with Laura. Get her settled. Convince her to get the chip out of her head.”

  He nodded. “I will be in meetings through the day.”

  Marianne’s stomach growled. “I’m hungry,” she announced, turning on her heel to head out the door of her quarters. The Sural made a sound like he was stifling a snort and followed her.

  * * *

  Marianne slowed down and sobered when she reached the refectory. The atmosphere was subdued and grieved – word of the tragedy had spread throughout the stronghold before the sun had set on it.

  Kyza was already at the high table, picking at her food without much interest. Thela was nowhere to be seen. Marianne assumed the young musician would either eat in the kitchen or in her quarters, if she ate at all, but was surprised when she appeared in the doorway and made her way to the high table. A few of her father’s colleagues shot her sympathetic looks as she passed. When she reached the high table, she climbed into the Sural’s lap and huddled there, eyes squeezed shut. Marianne sensed the hurt, confusion, and despair radiating from her. The Sural closed his eyes and put an arm around her but contin
ued to eat, slowly, as he communed with his new daughter.

  It was going to be a long day for him, Marianne thought.

  “Unusual circumstances,” Cena murmured beside her.

  “Isn’t it dangerous?” Marianne asked.

  The apothecary shook her head. “Only when the traumatic bond first forms do we instinctively defend a child. After that, we commune normally when the child seeks comfort.”

  “Why the difference?”

  Cena shrugged a shoulder. “It is the nature of it. Their bond formed by dusk, rather than taking days as a parental bond normally does. Truthfully, I am grateful that the Sural was able to interfere yesterday – I would not have you in the position of being her bond-mother. She is in a great deal of distress, and I would rather your daily life be less stressful than more so.” Cena put her hand on Marianne’s swelling belly and smiled. “Your child is content this morning. Good. Come to my quarters when you finish your meal, high one. I would prefer to examine you early.” She rose and strode off.

  As Marianne finished her tea, Thela opened her eyes and sighed. “I broke my laerta yesterday,” she said, deep unhappiness in her voice.

  “We shall have to locate a new one for you today,” the Sural replied. “We cannot allow a musician of your talent to be without an instrument.”

  “But they sound better when they are at least two hundred years old,” she protested.

  “Then we shall have to locate an old one.” A gentle smile curved his mouth. She smiled back uncertainly, and he gave her a squeeze. “I must work now, Thela,” he said, tapping her softly on the nose. “The work of the Sural is never done. Can you be brave for me until the midday meal?” She nodded. “Excellent!” She climbed down from his lap. “Go to the family library. Your tutors await you there. They will help you keep busy this morning.” He patted her shoulder. “Off with you.”

  “Yes, high one.” She stopped. “Father,” she amended, and trotted off to find the library.

  * * *

  Laura woke feeling worlds better. She stretched and yawned, enjoying the soft bed. Then she opened her eyes on the unfamiliar ‘sleeping room,’ and reality came crashing in on her. She groaned.