Cari Z.'s Blog

 Notes: Let's go figure out what the deal is at Melemor's Temple, huh? Should be easy peasy...

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards: Chapter 9, Part 2 

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Chapter Nine, Part Two

I Think That Went Well, Don’t You?

Two cups of tea, a quick bath, and a fresh pair of clotheslater and Hiram was on his way to the Temple of Melemor. He could have takenMule—it would have made the journey faster—but he was in a contemplative placeafter the memories he’d been assailed with last night, and decided it would benicer to walk. It hadn’t been all that long since he’d left Galenish and Andurionbehind, and yet…he’d forgotten. He’d genuinely forgotten how bad it had beenbefore he finally walked away.

The mind is a surprisingly resilient organ.

It was an unfortunately tenacious one, too. He felt it, overand over again, as he walked—the blow that had knocked him down, the blow thatwas the true end of the relationship that has defined his life. It wasn’t eventhe first time Andy had ever hit him, was the thing. They’d trained together fordecades, which inevitably led to bumps and lumps. The first time he’d startedlearning staff work, he’d managed to split Andy’s lip so badly there was stilla faded scar there, and Andy had broken not one, but two bones in his foot oncewhen he’d moved unexpectedly and put his armored boot on Hiram’s slipper. Thosehad been painful, but understandable—accidents happened. It was inevitable,they’d laughed about it even as they’d bled.

That hit, though…that hadn’t been inevitable. That had beena choice, a deliberate choice to assert dominance in the coarsest way possible.As soon as Hiram had realized that, once he’d assured himself there was nothingat work on his lover except Andy’s own greed and impatience, that had beenthat.

He’d been gone before the month was out.

If Phlox knew where Hiram’s mind had taken him, he didn’tsay anything about it. He only sat there in his ear, inert but for the faintglow of his spirit and a trickle of heat that was a comfort on a chillymorning. Hiram smiled as he walked, melancholy but grateful, so grateful, for whathe still had. Before long, his strides had brought him to the western edge ofLollop, and as he turned north he was joined by more townspeople on the road,all headed to the temple for Lares services. He nodded to several whom he recognizedand eventually struck up a conversation with a cheesemaker that lasted untilthey got to the temple, which…

That was a big temple for such a modest town. Melemorwas a major god of the pantheon, yes, and his temples were also often used asclinics and infirmaries, but heavens, this was as tall as two barns stacked ontop of each other. It was made of stone, too—not marble, of course, butsmooth river rock bound with cement and stacked toward the sky in the immensearch that was said to resemble Melemor’s prayerful hands. The stones weremulticolored, and many of them had veins of quartz and mica that shone in themorning sunlight. It was…quite beautiful, Hiram thought to himself. Evencompared to the cathedral back home, this was quite beautiful.

“I’m sorry about this rubbish decree of the High Priest’s,Hiram.”

He turned with a smile to look at Tilda. “It’s quite allright, my dear.”

“It’s not,” she said sourly, her lovely face stiff withresentment. “And I told him and Uriel as much, but—”

“No, truly.” He shrugged. “If knowing a bit more about mewill solidify my welcome in Lollop, I’m happy to participate in a cleansing.”

“Cleansings are meant to be voluntary, not compelled,” shesaid with a sigh. “Especially when they’re for public consumption. It’snonsensical—no one has brought any kind of complaint about you, they have nogood reason to doubt your character.”

Hiram just wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave hera comforting squeeze. “Let’s go see if we can get ourselves a good seat, hmm?”

The temple was already two-thirds full by the time they gotin, the pews filled with families trying to occupy their children as everyonewaited for the light to be right. Melemor’s services only started, bytradition, when the focused rays of morning light began to directly illuminatethe altar at the front of the temple, and they ended once the beam of light hadmoved on. It made for a relatively short service, which was pleasant for mostinvolved.

Today, it was clear that the priests were impatient to getstarted. High Priest Velagros stood, tall and ascetic, right behind the altar,his hands clasped in a position of prayer even as his glittering eyes roved theroom. When they landed on Hiram, they narrowed sharply even as the corners ofhis lips perked up.

Well, at least Hiram couldn’t be accused of shirking hisresponsibility. Nor could anyone else, it seemed—he and Tilda had to squish inwith their neighbors as more and more people entered the temple.

I wonder… Hiram sat a bit straighter and lookedaround, but he couldn’t see Avery in the crowd. Surely he was here somewhere,though. Perhaps he liked to sit in the back.

There was a sudden, sonorous sounding of the gong, callingall worshippers to attention. The High Priest stepped forward, hands aloft, andas he spread them apart, sunshine seemed to gather in them for a moment. “All praiseto the god of healing love and the light of truth,” he intoned in a voice thatdidn’t sound very loving at all. “Sing the song of solace.”

Hiram murmured along with the song as best he could. Itreally had been a long time since he’d prayed to Melemor, and he wasn’tsurprised that his devotions were a bit sloppy. Eh, Melemor wouldn’t care.

They got through two more songs, several incantations forminor healing that left numerous people in the crowd smiling, and one dirge forthe death of a gnomish family patriarch at the ripe old age of a hundred andeighty-seven. That was fairly involved, and by the time the last of thegreat-great-great-great-grandchildren had been named, the light was well pastthe midpoint of the altar. Hiram actually worried for a moment that he wouldn’tbe called up, which after the psybane would truly be a waste, until—

“And finally,” the High Priest said, gaze unerringly findingHiram, “we have a ritual cleansing to welcome the newest member of our societyto Lollop. Hiram Emblic, step forward so that ye may be freed of your sins inthe light of Melemor and your neighbors.”

There was a massive rustling as everyone in the entiretemple turned to stare at Hiram. Fortunately, he was immune to embarrassment andonly smiled as he stood and eased his way past the other people in the pew andmade his way to the front of the vast room. An acolyte had already laid out akneeling pillow for him, and he settled himself on it as Velagros came to standin front of him. He held a bronze bowl in one hand and a silver-bladed knife inthe other.

“Open your heart and soul to the love of Melemor, Master Emblic,”he said, then held out the knife.

Nice of him to let me do the cutting. This was allpart of the ritual—a symbolic cut that would be healed along with whatever “bedeviled”him inside thanks to Melemor’s grace. It was also a test in and of itself; ifyou only gave yourself the tiniest prick, you might be seen as lacking faith.Hiram scraped the length of his index finger down the blade, and bloodimmediately began to drip.

High Priest Velagros captured some of it in the bowl,frowning, then set the blade on the altar behind them. He then dipped hisfingers into the blood and closed his eyes. “The spirit of our god binds andsanctifies our connection,” he said. “Let it show me, and all of those present,your true heart.” He pressed his fingertips to his own forehead, then reachedfor Hiram’s. Hiram closed his eyes and focused on the past that had sent him toLollop, hoping that Melemor would understand. The fingers touched his head, andthen…

Feelings of harshness, hatred, and abandonment echoedthroughout the temple. No specific words, no pointed visions, but awretchedness and sense of loss that it was Velagros’s job to contain. Right onits heels was the pain of walking away from Misha, leaving his family behind,his baby, and there was no way back and he knew it, he would never seeher again… Hiram had lived all this last night, and while it wasn’t pleasant toexperience it again, it wasn’t enough to hurt him. He heard Velagros gaspinghis way through the cleansing prayer and hoped the other man was able toprotect the rest of the townspeople.

Gradually, the feelings of despair gave way to somethingsweet and soft. The light shining down at the altar was warm, like a blanketresting on Hiram’s shoulders as he sat before a toasty fire. It soothed theaches and twinges that had seemed like his constant companion since leavingGalenish, and he smiled as he felt the cut on his finger knit. As the heatfinally faded, Hiram opened his eyes once more and looked up at the High Priest,who was staring down at him with a blank expression on his face.

“Thank you,” Hiram said wholeheartedly.

To his shock, Velagros suddenly burst into tears. Not justtears but sobs, wrenching and awful, that sounded as though they were being forciblypried out of him for all the shuddering and shivering he did. Hiram wasmystified until he realized that he’d just shared one of the most traumaticexperiences of his life with a man who knew his townspeople inside and out. Velagroswasn’t the type to be overcome by emotion; he could distance himself from thefamiliar trials of his flock. Hiram was…a bit of an outlier, there.

An acolyte quickly stepped up and finished the ceremony,wiping Hiram’s forehead and hand clean with a white cloth as another acolytetook the High Priest by the shoulders and drew him away from the wide-eyestownsfolk witnessing his breakdown. “Blessings of love and light upon you all,”the acolyte who’d tidied up Hiram said loudly, and then, “We’re done, thanks.”The light hadn’t even fully passed the altar.

Hiram sighed as he got to his feet. Instead of gettingthrough things with minimal fuss like he’d intended, now he was sure to be evenmore the talk of the town. That was the last bloody thing he needed, anddespite the energy that the healing had left him with, he felt rather tempestuousas he strode down the center aisle faster than anyone could reach out to him.He didn’t want to field nosy questions and suspicious glances, didn’t want totalk at all, really, he just wanted to be left in peace, was that so much tobloody ask? He heard the stirring of hundreds of bodies behind him, ready tomove out, and it took all he had to resist the urge to run. He couldn’t—

“Master Emblic,” someone called from his left, low andsteady. Hiram turned and saw Avery Surrus a dozen feet away holding the reins ofa chestnut mare. He must have exited the temple even faster than Hiram. “MightI help you make your escape?” he offered with a little smile on his face.

Hiram didn’t care in the moment whether it was a ruse, ajoke, or a taunt. He practically ran to Avery’s side and didn’t hesitate as theman, with deceptive ease, handed him up into the saddle. Avery followed rightafter, and Hiram settled in the center of his loose embrace as he clicked thereins and tapped the mare with his heels. They set off at a trot, and were gonefrom sight before more than a score of people had even made it outside, muchless started over toward him.

“My hero,” he murmured, and felt the vibration of Avery’slaugh against his back.

“My pleasure.”

 Notes: Oh my goodness, we're...at the end. The end of Hadrian's Colony. Not the end of our guys' story, nowhere close, but over seventy thousand words later, here we are. This was a rough go for our lovers, and the ending isn't a firmly happy resolution in all respects, but I feel confident in their ability to weather whatever comes next. 

And there's a lot coming, and soon. But not immediately! My brain needs a break, so I'll be doing a short story/novella in another genre entirely next, then revisiting these gents after that. Thank you all for reading and sticking it out with me! Life is challenging for a lot of us right now, but you give me something to look forward to every week.

Title: Hadrian's Colony: Epilogue: Elanus POV

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Hadrian’s Colony: Epilogue: Elanus POV

Photo by Sebastian Brito 

Nothing happened fast on a Drifter ship. Technologically andculturally speaking, speed wasn’t a thing for them. Their lives were measuredin milestones—another hydroponic crop harvested, another trade deal made,another piece of their massive ship salvaged or decommissioned. They had loose schedulesfor everything from maintenance to health services, which was one of thereasons Elanus was so confident he could improve their systems. It wasn’t hardwhen half the damage was self-inflicted thanks to ignoring component wear andtear until it failed. He promised them results—in hydro-storage and recycling,in heating and cooling, and in diagnostics, and he was going to damn welldeliver.

And what he asked for in return? A level of speed that had theFather—the head—of the ship ready to tear his hair out.

“We can’t source a ship that fast!”

“They’re already sourced,” Elanus replied absently as he tweakedthe program Catie was putting together for hull integrity diagnostics. One moresensor in this area would be easy to manufacture, and it would cover an entirekilometer of ship that was currently underperforming but would soon be supportingtemperature differentials. “You have three in storage.”

Daniel Hammersmith scowled at him. “You shouldn’t have thatinformation. Have you been scanning our ship? Because that goes against theagreement you made when you came on board.”

Elanus didn’t resist the urge to scoff. “I didn’t have toscan anything,” he said. “The families who own those ships came to my peoplewithin the hour of us arriving, all looking to make a private deal.”

Hammerhelm’s expression darkened even further. “They don’t havethe authority to make deals with outsiders unless I say they can.”

“Which is why I haven’t said yes to any of them,” Elanusreplied. “But I will have one of those ships, Father Daniel, and I’llhave it without you dragging my stay here out and getting more concessions fromme for using your precious resources, like I haven’t already repaid you fiftytimes over with the improvements I’m making for you.” He raised his eyes fromthe screen to look evenly at the Drifter, who looked away after just a second.

“Fine. But fuel is extra.”

Elanus smiled. “Of course it is.”

The truth was, he didn’t care that fuel would cost more. Hedidn’t care if it cost him as much as everything else they’d paid already,because fueling the ship they ended up with was the key to getting rid ofCarlisle, and getting rid of Carlisle was key to getting Kieron back on an evenkeel.

You had to know him to know how he was being affected by hismother’s continual distance. After Catie’s Regen capacity was refreshed andKieron broke out of the depression he’d been held in since the rescue, he’dacted almost normal. They’d been on Pinnace for a week and he’d beengood for all of it—attentive to the kids, Pol included; conversing with Xilinnand Ryu about what had happened while they’d been separated; sticking close toElanus when he could and showing him how much he cared in the small, sweet waysElanus would freely admit he was addicted to.

It didn’t matter that so much of their early relationshipwas lost to Kieron’s traumatic brain injury; he still held Elanus’s handwhenever they were together for more than thirty seconds. He still laid hispalm on his lower back when they walked, the easiest place for him to reachgiven that Elanus was more than a foot and a half taller than his fiancé. Whenthey slept together—in a bed in guest apartments on Pinnace, which was anice bit of privacy for all involved after months in close quarters with Catie—hepulled Elanus’s head onto his chest without a second thought. The love wasever-present, demonstrated in big and small ways, and Elanus was confident thathe knew as much about how Kieron showed his emotions as Kieron himself didthese days.

Which was how he knew the damage with Carlisle went deep. Kieronwasn’t extra sensitive to it because of his injuries, and Carlisle wasn’t extrasolicitous of him because of them either. Despite their inability to speak withone another about anything of import, their actions spoke volumes.

Carlisle was quiet, avoidant, and cold. Kieron was quiet,persistent, and cracking under the weight of her disregard more and more everyday.

That was why she had to go, before she broke something shehad no right to anymore. She knew it, she agreed with Elanus, and aslong as he got her a ship she could fly and gave her access to enough creditsto do whatever the fuck she wanted, they were clear as far as he was concerned.

It didn’t take long. One conversation wrought a quickinspection of all three ships, Carlisle included in  the process because she was the one who wouldhave to fly the damn thing, and then the trade was made. The ship was stocked,Carlisle was checked one last time and given a clean bill of health, and then…

She left. There was no elaborate goodbye, no heartfelt hugsand promises to meet again in the future. She simply said, “I’ll go, then,” andshook everyone’s hands. Kieron was the only one who got a double hand clasp, andfor a second there, as their eyes met, Elanus thought they might have abreakthrough.

But no—Carlisle broke contact first, nodded at Elanus, thenwalked into her refurbished ship. Five minutes later, she was gone, heading forthe closest space lane to do some exploring in the Fringe.

An hour later, Elanus found Kieron in one of the many smallobservatories, breaks in the outer hull that had been transformed into lookingstations with plastisteel and forcefields. It was cold there, very cold—thispart of the ship wasn’t well insulated, and when Elanus kissed the top ofKieron’s head as he wrapped him in an embrace, his skin was icy.

He needed to say something, break through the discomfortsomehow, but…

“I don’t know whether I should feel happy or not with how it’sall ended.”

Huh, looked like Kieron was going to do the heavy lifting,then. As usual. “You feel how you feel,” Elanus said, not-very-usefully in hisopinion, but what else could he say? “You can acknowledge something is for thebest without being happy about it.”

“Is that what you think? That her leaving is for the best?”

“Yes.” There was no doubt in his mind. “For both of you. She’sbeen little better than a slave to a complete madman for most of her life,Kieron. Someone who controlled her every move, who had unreachable expectationsof her.”

Kieron flinched. “Do you think I treated her like that? Withunreasonable expectations, I mean?”

No, fuck that. “Honey,” Elanus said in what he hopedwas a level tone, “You didn’t have any expectations of her, from what Icould see. Or if you did, they were minimal at best. And I think that’s part ofwhy it’s better that she left. Not just for her sake, so she can learn about a universethat’s so much bigger than what she’s used to, but so you can figure out howyou feel without the pressure of being so careful around her. It’s breathingroom, baby. Just some breathing room. It’s not forever.”

I won’t let it be forever.

“Besides,” he went on, “I don’t think Carlisle has quite theright skillset for our next adventure.”

“I don’t know,” Kieron said in a lighter tone than Elanuswas expecting. “It might be nice to have a highly trained mercenary on our sidewhen we try to infiltrate Trakta.”

“Ha,” Elanus muttered. “Goes to show what you know aboutinfiltrating xenophobic, religious-right, neo-fascistic societies. You don’tmake headway in a place like that with guns.”

“So how are we going to do it, then?”

Elanus kissed the top of Kieron’s head. “With the weight of mycharming personality, of course. And a lot of credits.”

Elanus had them to spare, after all, and Trakta was incrediblymoney-hungry now that it had seceded from the Central System. He knew exactlywhat buttons to push to get access to the planet, and once he was there, he’d greasethe right palms and set things up to get Xilinn’s kids back.

Easy. They were due something being easy for oncein the past few years, and this was going to be it. It was.

It had to be.

 Notes: Let's have some memories, shall we? Damn, am I bad at keeping things fluffy. I swear this is going to stay a cozy and low-angst fantasy!

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards, Ch. 9 Part 1

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Chapter Nine, Part One

Take Me To Church

To be honest, Hiram almost forgot about the issue of showingup at the Temple of Melemor on Lares. He had a lot of work to do before thenext market day, after all; his entire stock was gone, and in the days sincethen he’d had numerous clients come to his home in hopes of getting more ofwhatever curative he’d sold them before market day.

“Worked a charm,” the woman who’d come to him all bound upsaid as he sat with her at his table, dicing prunes. Her name, he learned, wasMistress Erine, and she owned one of the largest flocks of sheep in town. Herworld was focused on caring for her family, her sheep, and her herding dogs tothe detriment of caring for herself, hence lots of easy-to-carry food to lasther the day that led to, well…issues. “Had to spend a whole evening on thelatrine, but it was worth it. Now I want to be prepared for next time.”

“You should take dried plums with you when you go to work,”Hiram suggested. “They’ll get you ahead of the problem.”

“They’d be eaten right out of my satchel before I made itten feet by one of the little ones or their pa,” she said with a shrug.“Medicinal tea, on the other hand, is avoided like the plague.”

“It’ll have the same effect, as long as you’re regular withit,” Hiram said. “Just one cup a night, brewed fairly weak. You can make one sachetlast three or four days that way. Or, give me a few more weeks and I’ll have atincture of this made up that you can add a bit of to water. That might beeasier for you in the long run.”

“Very kind of you, Master Emblic.”

He smiled as he handed over a new sachet of tea. “It’s mypleasure.”

It was, too. This was good, simple work that was satisfyingto complete and helped build a solid reputation for him in Lollop. It also gaveLetty and her brother something to do once the garden was built—he sent themout to forage for rarer ingredients, confident that Esme would watch from adistance to ensure they didn’t get into any tangles they couldn’t handle. Theyreturned with chokecherries, kingslip and queen’s lace, five different kinds ofbark, and mistletoe (he discarded the mistletoe immediately), and smiles ontheir faces after spending hours traipsing through the woods, eating the lunchhe packed them and spending time away from their demanding father.

Hiram forgot all about Lares, in fact, until Letty remindedhim of it. “We won’t be in tomorrow,” she said as she wrapped her shawl aroundher shoulders. The evening air was beginning to get a bit nippier, and theleaves were beginning to change color. Soon the apples would be ripe forharvesting, and then the squash, and then… “Because of Temple.”

“Oh yes, of course.” Hiram smiled a bit absently at her.“Enjoy it.”

Letty frowned. “I’ll see you there, won’t I? High Priest Velagroshas been telling everyone that you’ll be there.”

Shit, right. “Ah.”

“You forgot, didn’t you?”

He sighed. “I did. But I’ll be there.”

Letty paused, fidgeting with the hem of her scarf. “MistressTate isn’t happy about it.”

Oh, she must be raising hell in town. Hiram was a bitsurprised she hadn’t come to him with her concerns, but odds were she washoping to handle it without him knowing. Kind of her, as ever, but unnecessary.“If you would do me the kindness of finding Mistress Tate and letting her knownot to fret, that I’m perfectly fine with a ritual cleansing, I wouldappreciate it.”

“I’ll do that,” Letty said. “See you tomorrow morning,then.” She grabbed Rickie by the hand before he managed to dart away, then closedthe door behind her.

“Perfectly fine, hmm?”

Hiram rolled his eyes. “Oh, stop.”

“No, I don’t think I will. Melemor isn’t some localpushover you can dodge with cleverness; he’s a major member of the pantheon.”

“I’m not going to dodge him!” Hiram insisted. “I’m justgoing to show him what I prefer him to focus on.” He scraped up the last of theherbs from his cutting board and poured them into the compost bucket, then putthe kettle on. It was time for a cup of tea himself—a very specific one.

“For all that his high priest is a loathsome bottomcrawler, Melemor is a god of truthfulness,” Phlox snapped. “Heprizes honesty from his worshippers, and a cleansing implies being forced tospeak the truth whether you want to or not. If you give yourself away—”

“I won’t,” Hiram insisted. “Look, Melemor is a balancing act—truth,yes, but he’s also a god of healing, whether physical, mental, or spiritual.All I’ve got to do is give him the proper bit to focus on and I’ll be right asrain.” A quick glance at his store of spices showed he’d need to make a specialtrip upstairs to find what he wanted.

It felt odd to go up to his bedroom while it was still lightout. It was a comforting place, but one that had more memories associated withit than the rest of the house. Here was where his former life still shonethrough, and nowhere was that more obvious than in the special satchel he’dwarded to all the hells and back that contained his most magical potioningredients.

“Psybane, psybane, psybane…ah.” There it was, a thorny,prickly ball of herbs that sported a most arresting shade of blood red. Hetried not to be disappointed by finding it.

“Psybane? Are you mad? Do you want to be able towalk tomorrow?”

Phlox was too loud in his ear, and Hiram flicked himirritably as he wrapped some of the thorns in a scrap of cloth and carried itback downstairs. The kettle was bubbling by then, so he took it off the heat,put the psybane in a bowl, and poured the water over it. A minute to steep, nomore, or he really wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. He timed it to thecadence of his own pulse, and then decanted about half the water into a smallcup.

“This isn’t smart, Hiram. Just find a spell that can doit.”

“Spells are a bad idea for me, you know that. And so isfighting the tide of the town,” Hiram said, turning with the cup and carryingit back up the stairs. He toed off his house shoes—boots were firmly left bythe door—and sat down in the middle of the bed, making sure his pillow wasready behind him. Psybane hit differently every single time, but Hiram hadn’ttaken it since he’d left Galenish. He wasn’t sure what it would do to him thistime around.

“Hiram…”

He smiled a little. “Are you worried for me, Phlox?”

Phlox sniffed. “Only worried who would find your rottingcorpse and take control of me afterward.”

“It’s all right, my dear. I’ll be fine.” He drank the teadown in one long swallow, then—

The psybane grabbed him like a hand to the throat and threwhim down into memories. His vision went hazy, then dark, and Hiram’s mentallandscape flickered and reformed over and over again. A cave, a dungeon, abarren mountaintop, a fiery plain, a sumptuous bedroom—

“—think you can get away with this?” Andy raged at him. “Weneed an alliance with the Sharivath, Xerome, and Misha is how we get it! Youcan’t hide her from me, I’m her father. Where is Misha? Where is mydaughter?”

“A marriage alliance to the Sharivath isn’t worth it,” Xeromeinsisted, unwilling to back down from his enraged lover. He’d done that toomuch lately, given in to Andy when he should have pushed, should have foughtback. He loved the man, but he was getting harder and harder to deal with. “Notfor your only child. She doesn’t want that kind of marriage anyway, you knowthat.”

Andy sneered at him, his handsome features contorted bydisdain. “Her wants are secondary to the needs of the kingdom.”

“She is your only heir! Don’t set her up to play second bestwhen anyone she marries ought to be begging for her hand. ”

The blow came out of nowhere, so hard that Xerome fell tothe floor from the force of it. He stared up at Andy, incredulous and feelingfar more hurt than the strike warranted. There was nothing in Andy’s eyes toshow he regretted it, nothing of repentance or shock at his own actions, athitting the man he professed to love—just anger, anger, anger. “Bring her backbefore the week is out, or I’ll—”

The scene shifted, dragging him into a new vision. This onewas Misha, garbed in a loose black robe and holding perfectly still as Xerome poureda dark, shimmery oil over her head as he spoke an incantation that would hideher from her father, and any other magic user who Andy could hire to do hisdirty work. When it was done and he’d wiped her face clean, she opened her eyesand looked at him. “Come with me.”

Xerome shook his head, feeling his limbs tremble. The spellhad taken a lot out of him. “I can’t hide myself this way, sweetheart.”

“So choose another spell for yourself.”

“Spells are the whole problem,” he said tiredly, handingover a towel. “I need to turn my magic off for a while, Misha. Your father willtry and track me by it, so it’s best I don’t use it for the foreseeable future,other than laying some false trails.” He sighed. “No, we need to go ourseparate ways, for your own safety.”

Misha grabbed his hand, oil be damned. Tears welled up inher eyes and spilled over her cheeks. “What about your safety?”

Oh, baby. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’m afraid for you.” She bit her lip. “And I’m afraid to bewithout you. Please, just—isn’t there some way we can stay together?”

And risk her father’s anger turning physical on her? Mishawas a fine warrior, but she didn’t have her father’s skill or guile. “No, mylove,” he said, squeezing her fingers in his. “I’m so sorry, but this is forthe best.”

“It’s just for now, though.” There was still a hint of hopein her voice, and it made his heart clench with self-loathing. “Right? Just fornow. You’ll find me later.”

Your father would have to be dead, and he might never dieafter what I’ve done for him. To him. “I’ll try,” he promised, andit rang false in his mind like a bell, tight like a noose, clawing out of hisgut like a—

Hiram rolled onto his side and threw up the remnants of thepsybane tea, gasping for breath. He shivered in the wake of his violentvisions, and every part of him ached with longing for a life he’d never haveagain, and people who were lost to him forever. His family, his dearest ones…

“Are you all right?” Phlox asked quietly. “Thattook a long time, it’s almost dawn.”

It felt like no more than a few minutes…and an eternity.“I’m all right,” Hiram said, his voice rough from dryness. “I just need tosettle a bit. Then I’ll clean things up and we can go to the Temple.”

And if this doesn’t work, then I’ll figure something elseout on the fly.

Notes: A few more chapters and we'll be done. Omigosh, friends...what am I going to DO!? I mean, no, I sort of know what I'm going to do, but I pine! I PINE, people!

Title: Hadrian's Colony: Chapter Twenty-Four, Part Two

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Chapter Twenty-Four, Part Two

 Photo by Karsten Weingeart

It felt a little unreal to be off of Hadrian’s Colony atlast. Not in a “waking up from a nightmare” sort of way—Kieron was very awareof the time they’d spent down there and how crucially it had all gone wrong. Itfelt more like some part of himself was standing outside his body andobserving, cataloguing all the things going on around him and the interactionshe wasn’t having. He ought to be happy to be off the planet, and something inhim was, but it also felt very distant.

Being with the girls helped. They bantered back and forth,equal parts joyful and irritated to be back together and more than willing tohold off on heavy conversations for now. Lizzie’s intensely accuratefirebombing? Ignored. Catie’s near-death experience? Avoided. Both girls havingto take far more responsibility for their parents than either Elanus or Kieronwanted? Not even mentioned. Instead they chattered back and forth, verbally andnumerically, one-upping each other with stories and using Bobby as a sort of referee.

Bobby loved it. He’d reached a new stage in his mentaldevelopment down there, going from what Catie had looked at as a bumbling petto a genuine little brother. Lizzie was delighted to talk to him without allthe static and interference caused by the planet, and the three of them gotsidetracked into entire conversations in Morse that had the girls giggling andBobby quivering with laughter. It was sweet to experience them together, tohear them learning each other’s personalities and how to get along and the bestways to poke at each other without causing real harm. They were already likefamily.

It wasn’t until five standard days into their escape fromHadrian’s Colony that Kieron found an emotional exit from the way he’d isolatedhimself, and it came in the form of a physical exit by Carlisle. Elanus hadtold Kieron the plan, Kieron knew he had, but nothing seemed to stick in hishead lately. He forgot what was being said just a few minutes after he wastold, and he knew it bothered everyone but he genuinely couldn’t do shit forit. Arriving at Pinnace changed that.

Pinnace was a Drifter ship that had worked the samestretch of space, back and forth, for centuries now. They were the closestthing to homesteaders that Drifters could be, a colony of over five thousandpeople on a ship that looked like a patchwork horror but packed a mean punchwhen threatened. The families on Pinnace had learned a long time agothat their ship wasn’t going to outrun a pirate crew, so they’d bartered earlyand often for weapons systems and defenses that could probably fight off anAlliance destroyer if they needed to.

Pinnace was the only waystation along this particulargravitational highway, a sure stop for miners and explorers, and itsinhabitants were wily as hell. Listening to Elanus barter with them for accessto their medical supplies was like listening in on a peace-treaty negotiation.

“No, we don’t need a Regen tank, we need the baselineingredients for manufacture, that’s all.”

“You think those are any easier to come by than full-onRegen this far out? You’re outta your mind. Those are reserved for family andemergencies only.”

“Well this qualifies as an emergency.”

“The hell it does. We’ve been tracking you for the lastfifteen hours, you’re not broadcasting any distress signals.”

“So fucking sue me if I don’t want to advertise to theuniverse that we’re in a tough spot. We just escaped from Hadrian’s Colony, youthink that was a good time?”

There was a long pause, then… “That’s shipshit.”

“We did.”

“No one gets on or off that hellhole during storm season.”

“I’m not saying it was easy or smart, I’m just saying we didit. And now we need to shore ourselves, and our ships, up before we head on to clearerwaters.”

“You’re blasting Ganian idents. That’s Central System crap,we have no use for that currency, so what can you offer us?”

“I can offer you an upgrade of any system on Pinnacewith a guarantee of an increase of at least five percent in efficiency.”

Elanus got nothing but laughter back. It took ademonstration by one of the girls on a disconnected platform for the Drifter totake them seriously, but even they had to admit it was a good deal. Efficiencywas the lifeblood of a Drifter ship; everything that could be spared, recycled,or upcycled was pursued with relentless focus. Elanus knew how to do that. Heeven managed to bargain for a ship for Carlisle, which Kieron hadn’t seencoming but wasn’t surprised by. Of course she wanted to get away from them assoon as possible. Of course she wasn’t going to stay.

Coming in to dock was a surreal experience. It should havefelt normal; Kieron used to oversee this sort of thing every day back onCloverleaf Station, he’d watched this thousands of times. Maybe it was theeffect of their last landing being Hadrian’s Colony, or maybe it was that theywere so close to being around people again—people he liked, their two shiploadscombining into one, and people he had no reason to trust—but Kieron’s breathingsped up and his eyes got wet as they neared the space dock.

Elanus noticed but didn’t say anything, playing it safe in away he had very little experience with. He was afraid of pushing Kieron rightnow and Kieron got that, he appreciated it. But without a push, he thought hemight just hyperventilate before they got hooked up to Pinnace.

When the push came, it came from Carlisle. Kieron heard a stutter,then a gasp turned into tiny, panting breaths, and it took too long for him torealize that she was the one having the panic attack. Before he couldthink twice about it, he unbuckled from his chair and turned back to the wallwhere she was strapped in, face pressed into her hands but fingers slittedenough that she could see through them. She was staring at the viewscreen and shaking so hard he could hear herteeth chatter.

Kieron got up and went over to her, kneeling down in frontof her to block her sight of the incoming port. He took one of her hands andplaced it on his own chest, using the touch to ground the both of them. “Deepbreath,” he said firmly. “Come on now, in. Out.” This was how they’d calmedchildren back on the Colony; adults who broke down got much rougher treatment,but Kieron didn’t think she’d respond well to being shouted at right now. “In.Out.” Carlisle followed orders, ever the good soldier, and by the time the reddocking light turned solid white, she’d managed to catch her breath.

“Thank you,” she whispered, not quite looking him in the eyes.

He’d take it. “You’re welcome.”

 Notes: Let's go down a bit of a rabbit hole into Avery's past, hmm?

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards: Ch. 8 Pt. 2

***

Chapter Eight, Part Two

Rough Beginnings

Tilda came back a few minutes later holding two large cups,each with a spoon sticking out the top. “We’ll have to return these once we’redone,” she said as she sat down in the chair Master Surr—Avery had sorecently vacated. “I had to convince Ruslan to let me take them away from thestall, but I assured him you’re much more responsible than a child.” She heldone of the mugs out to Hiram.

He took it and inhaled deeply as he looked inside. “Potatosoup?”

“Don’t mock it until you’ve tried it,” she warned him with alittle smile.

Hiram obligingly took a spoonful and, after blowing for amoment to take the heat off, tried it. He closed his eyes and bit back a moanas flavor burst across his tongue, half a dozen different herbs and spices blendingharmoniously with soft chunks of potato, a creamy base, and salty bacon.

A lot of bacon.

“Good, isn’t it?” Tilda said once Hiram opened his eyesagain. She did an admirable job of not sounding smug, but he knew this was herversion of “I told you so.”

“Delicious,” he agreed. They ate in companionable silencefor a while, the hubbub of Market Day diminished as everyone in attendanceseemed to decide all at once that it was time to eat. Once he’d taken the edgeoff his hunger, Hiram said, “So. Master Surrus is…interesting.”

Tilda nodded knowingly. “Isn’t he? I thought I saw the twoof you chatting together.”

“Yes.” Hiram didn’t tell her what they’d talked about—he didn’tshare his clients’ concerns to others unless they specifically allowed it—but hehad plenty of questions that didn’t revolve around nightmares. “I get thefeeling he’s not a local.”

“He is, actually.”

Oh. That was genuinely surprising.

“Well,” Tilda corrected herself, “I should clarify. He wasborn nearby and he lived here for some years in his childhood, but he left veryyoung. He only came back five or six years ago, and I think that’s only becauseof Master Spindlestep.”

Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. “Are they friends,then?” he asked despite knowing the answer.

“They are. I don’t know the details of it, but I believethat Master Spindlestep was something of an adventurer before he lost hiseyesight. He bought the store from Lollop’s last tailor over ten years ago, buthe still gets out and about every now and then. I suppose they must have met onone of his journeys, and Master Spindlestep invited him back to Lollop.”

Tilda set her spoon back in the mug and put it on the table.“Master Surrus was in a bad way when he first came to town,” she said, her eyesdistant with memory. “Poor thing looked half starved, and he was barely able towalk. Hardly any of us saw him for the first few months of his time here, andonce he finally emerged he was still very thin and pale.” Her face brightened abit as she went on, “But he’s a gifted teacher. We’re quite lucky to have him—noone else was lined up to take on the role of teacher after Mistress Arivas decidedto give it up, but he fit in beautifully. He’s recovered very well since then,and the children thrive with him. We even had to expand the school and get himan assistant so he could handle the workload.”

A picture was beginning to emerge, but Hiram still hoped tofill more of it in with Tilda’s assistance. “Was he born to a farming family?”

“Ah. No.” Tilda lowered her voice a bit. “His mother worked atan establishment that provided food, drink, and company to travelers. Shewas young when she had him, and she did her best to care for him but Lollop israther…old-fashioned in a lot of ways. She didn’t get the help she needed, andeventually she ran off with a tinker and left the young boy behind.”

Hiram’s mouth dropped open. Not because he was necessarilysurprised—it was an old tale, one he’d seen play out many times on the road—butbecause— “Lollop’s primary deity is Melemor. Melemor specifically requireshis followers to care for orphans and children who’ve been abandoned. He shouldhave been taken into the temple.”

“He was,” Tilda replied evenly. “And he hated it there, fromall accounts. When he was offered an apprenticeship in another town, he leaptat the chance. We lost track of him after that.”

“An apprenticeship in what?”

“Chimney sweeping.”

Of course. Small children or gnomes had to be employed tomake it down the narrow chimneys most houses had, and gnomes generally knewbetter. It was dangerous work at the best of times, and all too often childrenwere injured or killed while plying the trade. “I see.”

Tilda sighed. “I know you’re judging us harshly, and I don’tsay that we don’t deserve it, but—”

“No, no.” Hiram shook his head. “I’m not, I assure you. Lifeis…” He shrugged. “Life is full of extenuating circumstances. However MasterSurrus began, he’s clearly made something of himself, and the fact that he’swilling to live and work in Lollop now speaks well of the town, I suppose.”

“And better of him,” Tilda said, a smile beginning tosurface again. “Hiram…do you like Avery?”

“I don’t even know him.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

Did he like him? There was definitely somethingintriguing about the young man, and he was quite handsome. Anyone with eyescould see that. Not to mention his familiarity with philosophical concepts thatno one without a rather high level of education would have even heard of, muchless been able to explain, and… “He’s interesting,” Hiram allowed. “I’d like tospeak with him again, certainly.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Oh, no. No. Hiram shook his head. “I’ve no need of amatchmaker,” he insisted. “I came to Lollop for peace and quiet, not to becomea spectacle.”

Tilda laughed. “Hiram,” she said, gently but with somereproach, “I’m afraid you’re already a spectacle. You say Avery is interesting,and he is, but he’s nothing compared to the interest you’ve generated here intown.”

And that, Hiram was coming to realize, was a mistake. Thelast thing he needed was for the next Imperial messenger to stick a WANTEDposter in Fuzzle Pinky’s tavern and have half a dozen people wondering why thepicture looked so much like their new herbalist.

Tilda’s hand came down on top of his, and he realized he’dbeen tapping the tabletop with his fingers. “It will die down,” she promisedhim quietly. “Not many new people come to Lollop, but once you’re in, you’rein. Our town will get used to you, and you’ll be all right.”

Hiram looked into her warm, understanding eyes and thanked allhis luck that she had been the one to guide his stay so far. Tilda likelyguessed far more than he was comfortable with, but he also knew she would keepher silence.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a flurry ofpleasantries, brief meetings, and disbursement of his stock until, at the endof the day, there was nothing left but a few sprigs of dried rosemary. Hiramconsidered it quite the success, and so did Tilda.

“You’ll have more orders than you know what to do with,” shesaid cheerfully as she helped him pack up. “You should consider hiring an apprentice.Perhaps Letty…”

Hiram shook his head. “I don’t think she’d be content inthat sort of role,” he confessed. “She’s looking for something different.” Andhe would figure it out soon enough and see what he could do to facilitate it. “AndI can manage well enough for now on my own.”

“If you say so. Come on.” Tilda nodded toward The YewBrew. “Let me treat you to a drink before we retrieve your mule and cart.”

“If you insist.”

“I believe I do.” She linked arms with him and led him towardthe tavern. Just before they reached the door, Hiram glanced back at thesquare. In the distance, he just had time to make out a familiar, broad-shoulderedsilhouette before it vanished into a shop.

I wonder how Avery and Master Spindestep met. Perhapshe would get the chance to ask someday.

***

The door to the tailor’s shop slammed shut, the bell aboveit jingling so violently it almost fell off. “Sorry.”

The old elf sighed, his hands not stopping their hemmingwork as he turned his head toward the doorway. Eye contact didn’t matter tohim, of course, but the effort put other people more at ease. “Avery, dear.What has you in such a tizzy?”

The young man came over to Narion’s workbench and sat downbeside him. Then he stood up again and began to pace, then sat once more. “Whatmakes you think I’m in a tizzy?”

“Avery. Sit down, you’re making me tired just listening toyou pace.”

“I’m not in a tizzy. That man didn’t put me into a tizzy.”

Ah. “You met Master Emblic, then.”

The pacing stopped. “How can you tell?”

“Most people seem to have a strong reaction to meeting him.Also, you smell very strongly of chamomile.”

“Oh.” Avery took a deep breath, then spoke more calmly, “Yes,I did meet him today. We spoke for a bit.”

Narion nodded. “Anything interesting?”

“Peverall’s Demon, in fact.”

Narion went still. After a moment, he said, “Well, the manis from Galenish. He’s had access to some of the greatest universities andlibraries in the world. It’s not surprising he might be more educated than youraverage villager.”

“Especially if he wasn’t always an herbalist.”

Narion turned more fully to face Avery as he sat down again.“You suspect he wasn’t?”

“I do. He’s too smooth, too much of a talker. Tooinsightful. The only people like him I’ve met before were people who understoodpower.”

“People of power don’t come to places like Lollop.”

Avery snorted. “Yourself excused, I suppose.”

“I’m no longer powerful, my dear. I wish I was, I wish Icould do as you need, but—”

Avery’s warm hands took hold of his. “You’ve done more thanI could have asked,” he promised, easing Narion’s heart. “You kept me alivewhen I wanted nothing more than to die, and I’m forever grateful for that. ButI still need to find a way out of this.”

Narion nodded. “And you think Master Emblic might be thekey?”

“I don’t know yet. But…” Avery took something out frombeneath his cloak and set it carefully on the table in front of Narion. “Hegave me this. He was—well. Can you sense anything from it?”

A ceramic jar? The source of the chamomile, and some otherherbs, and…Narion ran one long finger around the edge of it, then drew backwith a gasp. Power…latent, subtle, but strong. So strong. He couldn’t rememberthe last time his psychometry had been so intensely triggered. There was a hintof fire, and the color gold, and…

And this from a man who wasn’t even trying to use his power.

“Be careful,” Narion whispered. “Be very careful, Avery.There is much more to Hiram Emblic than meets the eye.”

“So he is powerful.”

“Yes, but…” This much power could only be accompanied by agreat deal of danger. “Don’t push him,” Narion warned.

“Oh, I won’t,” Avery said.

Now, why didn’t Narion believe that?

 Notes: Oh my goodness, are we almost done? I think we're almost done! Wow! This one's been a bit of a wild ride, huh? One more week to wrap it up and then...I don't know what happens next! Obviously we've got to resolve things on Trakta, but I'm still working out the details of how. I might write a shortie fic in between to cleanse my mental palate. We'll see!

Title: Hadrian's Colony: Chapter Twenty-Four, Part One

***

Chapter Twenty-Four, Part One

Photo by Geronimo Giqueaux 

It was easy to be quiet, in the aftermath.

There was nothing for Kieron to do. No heavy lifting, noinvestigation, no preparation. Lizzie nailed the drop with all the propulsionequipment that Catie was going to need to get back into space, and it was mostlypreassembled. The last bits were tricky enough that only Elanus could see themthrough, so that left the rest of them with a lot of time on their hands.

Bobby didn’t speak audibly, just tapped when he wanted tosay something. Elanus had already offered to outfit him with a voice system,but Bobby had declined for now. “But don’t you want to be able to talk topeople who don’t understand Morse code?” Elanus had asked, and Bobby had simplyreplied, [No thank you.] And that was that, for now at least. And Carlisle…

She didn’t speak much to anyone. She hardly made eye contactwith Kieron—which was strange, because she made plenty of eye contactwith Elanus. They were antagonistic, but in a teasing way, able to engage in analmost lighthearted fashion that was simply impossible with Kieron. He wantedto be offended, wanted to have the energy to rage and demand answers, to wonderwhat it had all been for if she was just going to ignore him now, andyet…he didn’t. He didn’t have that energy. He felt detached, almost entirelydissociated from his body. Floaty, and distant, and still.

Elanus had noted it, because of course he had. “You need bettermedical care than we can give you in the middle of nowhere,” he muttered as helaid a hand on Keiron’s forehead in an embarrassing act of checking his temperature.

“Sorry, Daddeeee,” Catie said sadly. “I did the best thaaatI could.”

“I know you did, baby, you did great.”

“You did great,” Kieron echoed, because it was true andbecause it was all he could think to say in the moment. He wished he could domore, but he just felt…empty. Hollow.

Coming here had changed nothing for him. Nothing. Hedidn’t have any deeper understanding of himself or his past actions. He hadn’tbeen gifted with any new memories of the time between when he started atCloverleaf Station and when he woke up in Elanus’s house on Gania, Regenedright out of his own mind. He had all the feelings he’d had before—more, even,shame and anger on top of the love like some sickening cauldron that bubbledinside of him, threatening to spill over and fill the emptiness with itstoxicity. All he’d done here was make himself worse.

And save his mother, but she didn’t even want to be saved,so…

Bobby tapped out something from where he sat in Kieron’s lap.[Breathe, Papa.]

Kieron tapped back, “I’m breathing.”

[Breathe better.] So Kieron made an effort, and Bobby hummedand settled in once more, and that was all Kieron spoke for the whole day, andthat was all right.

With the limited capacity he had for emotion right now, hewas rather surprised that his family was taking his silence so well. Not thatElanus and Catie couldn’t carry a conversation for days just the two of them,and they did a good job of drawing Lizzie and Xilinn and even Ryu intoeverything from technical discussions to simple chatting, but they didn’t pushhim to speak. No one did, and Kieron was all right with that. He knew it couldn’tlast, but there was something nice about not having to work to put anyone elseat ease right now.

The countdown to getting off Hadrian’s Colony changed, itseemed, on a daily basis. As soon as the chassis was in place, they had to makesure the fuel cells weren’t compromised; as soon as the fuel cells wereverified, they had to recheck the chassis; as soon as Catie was secure, theyhad to find the best break in the weather to attempt it. That was the hardestpart, and it took a week of concerted effort on both Catie and Lizzie’s partsto independently choose the same window for takeoff.

And they had five minutes to make the most of it. “—because thelayer of frozen methane shifted unexpectedly by several thousand meters,Elanus, and—”

“I believe you, baby, I believe you,” Elanus said as herapidly moved about the cabin, prepping the living space for launch as fast ashe could. There were only two chairs and there was no question who was sittingin them, but he’d already fabricated a harness that could clip to the wall andfloor for Carlisle. She sat in the makeshift seat without complaint, herexpression steady. Kieron watched Elanus buckle her in, then distractedly didthe same for himself.

“Shoulder straps.”

“Hmm?” He looked up at Elanus, who was gazing at him with anobscure blend of patience and pain on his face.

“Shoulder straps, darling. You forgot them.”

“Oh.” So he had. He started over, not objecting when Elanus double-checkedhis work before sitting down himself. Bobby extended a set of legs over Kieron’sankles and settled in down low, and then it was time to go.

The chassis that Lizzie had deployed for her sister was abulky circular thing, a bit like a belt, that integrated into Catie’s midlinestructure and fuel system. It was essentially a donut-shaped rocket capable ofgenerating immense lift, not so great for steering or fine control. Catie wasgoing to be using all her personal resources to keep them on course while usingthe rocket to power them through the storm, which…the rain seemed thick toKieron, lashing at her viewscreen and occasionally pelting it with pieces ofgrass that the wind had whipped up.

“Running eeengine check.” A series of numbers flew by on thecontrol panel, percentages that meant little to Kieron but were clearly relevantconsidering how Elanus pored over them.

“Looks good, sweetheart, how’s the telemetry?”

“Gooood, Daddeee.”

“Still solid, Elanus,” Lizzie said. “But you’ve got to go inthe next thirty-two seconds if you’re going to hit the window.”

“Copy that, baby. Catie, let’s get out of here.”

“Yes, Daddeeee.”

The rumble that accompanied her engine coming online wasgenuinely startling. Catie was usually as soft as a whisper compared to otherships, but the chassis propelled her noise level up by a thousand percent.Kieron actually had to cover his ears, the roar became so loud. He couldn’tfeel the heat of the fire she was spewing, but he knew the ground beneath themhad to be scorched. After a ten-second buildup, Catie launched into the air sohard Kieron felt like his lungs had been punctured. He was driven down into hisseat, G-forces too heavy to resist, and stared blankly at the ceiling.

It had to be worse for Elanus, but he was still looking at numbersand talking to Catie. Shouting, more like, but he had to if he was going to beheard over the noise. “You’ve got this, baby, hit the line, hit the line…we’reoff by a kilometer. West, baby, we’re off by two kilometers…shift us, baby,shift us or we’re going to hit the ice!”

“I’m tryyyying, Daddeee! The power is—” There was a ka-chunk,and a piece of ice broke apart over her viewscreen. “Ow!”

“Cut power to the right side!”

No arguments—Catie cut power, and the ship began to spinwildly, hurtling across the high sky instead of up.

“Restart in three, two—now!”

The chassis engine flared to life immediately, stillingtheir spin so fast that Kieron’s stomach could barely hold itself together.Carlisle couldn’t; he heard her retch, but there was nothing he could do tohelp. They began to ascend again, and this time…

“We’re in liiine, Daddee!”

“Good girl, you’ve got this, we’re close to breakout. Holdit steady, sweetheart, hold it steady…almost there.” Catie rumbled and roared,the force of the chassis so intense Kieron wondered that his girl was able tokeep herself together under so much force. If she ran into trouble in the upperatmosphere, there was nothing anyone would be able to do.

She’s fine. Catie knows herself, she knows what she cando. Elanus is helping her. Straining, Kieron reached his closest hand outto the control panel and laid it near one of her sensors. He couldn’t speak,but he could still communicate. I’m here too, baby, you’ve got this.

It took a moment for Kieron to realize the noise hadstopped, his ears were ringing so hard. Catie cut the extra engines, and the whinedied down to nothing as he realized her viewscreen had gone black. And there,in the distance, was another very familiar ship.

The viewscreen came to life, and they got visuals for thefirst time since reconnecting with Lizzie and her crew.

“You made it!” Xilinn exclaimed, squeezing her son so hardthat the boy tried to wriggle away even as he laughed. “Oh ancestors, oh thankyou, you’re all right.”

Ryu, beside her, was less expressive but still gave them agrin. “It’s good to be out of there, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Elanus said, beaming at the others.

Kieron blinked and stared, taking them all in, and then theview switched to exterior. Lizzie’s skin was tinted pink, and Catie began togiggle.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Lizzie chided her sister, then—“Kee.”

Kieron finally found the strength to raise his head. “Hey, Lizzie,”he murmured, feeling lighter than he had since he woke up. “It’s good to seeyou again.”

 Notes: Let's have our potential lovers sit down for an actual conversation, hmm?

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards, Ch. 8 Pt. 1

***

Chapter Eight, Part One

Peverell’s Demon

“What do you carry for nightmares?”

A startlingly blunt question to begin a conversation with,but Hiram couldn’t say he wasn’t intrigued. He contemplated the man in front ofhim for a moment, took in the light in his eyes and the faint curve at thecorners of his lips, and after a moment he said, “That would depend upon thestrength and the source of the nightmares, Master…”

“Surrus. Avery Surrus.” The smile edging those lipsblossomed for a moment. “Lollop’s schoolmaster.”

“Ah.” Hiram felt a surge of gratification. “I thought asmuch. I’ve heard a great deal about you.”

Master Surrus chuckled. “From the Neven clan, yes? I’m notas beastly as my dear students say, I assure you.”

“I would never accuse you of such a thing,” Hiram replied.“Children aren’t always the best character witnesses.” Sometimes they were, ofcourse—sometimes they were spot on, but a teacher could encompass fear, faith, appreciation,and resentment all in the same breath. Still… “No one has said anything ill ofyou in my presence, so your reputation is safe as far as I’m concerned.”

“As is yours,” Master Surrus said, but there was a hint ofsomething else in his voice. “Or perhaps I shouldn’t say ‘safe,’ since I’veheard a great many reports about you since your arrival in Lollop and not allof them agree. Rather, let me say that you seem to be a man of much interest.”

Ah. He’s fishing. Not really surprising, consideringhow many people had come by his stall this morning with no intention to buy,just wanting a bit of conversation. Still, it was a trifle disappointing. Backto the matter at hand. “Tell me more of your nightmares, Master Surrus.”

The young man nodded like he hadn’t just been put off. “Theytake an unfortunately broad number of forms, I’m afraid. Most often they creepup on me at night, but occasionally I’m lost to them during the day.”

Interesting. “Do you suffer from waking nightmares,then?”

Master Surrus nodded stiffly. “From time to time.”

That was rather serious. “How long has this been going on?”

“Oh, for years now,” Master Surrus replied with more than abit of fatigue in his voice. “For a time it wasn’t so bad, but recently itseems like they’re increasing in duration and intensity.”

“Was there a catalyzing event for these nightmares?”

He smiled again, a barely-there curve. “Yes, but I’d rathernot talk about it.”

“Hmm.” This was beginning to sound more like the domain of apriest, but there had to be a reason the young man was coming to Hiram insteadof them. Perhaps they’d tried and failed to cure his mental affliction, orperhaps he was afraid they would dig too deeply into his psyche. At the veryleast, Hiram could give him a good start to his sleep. He began to dig throughhis sachets, looking for ones he could combine for better effect.

“Let me give you something to start your night off sweetly.Chamomile.” He tapped three of the bags into a small ceramic jar, then added aspoonful of tiny stone fruits he’d found at the back edge of his garden. “Sourcherries. And some of this.” He retrieved the ground valerian root he’d broughtall the way from Galenish and poured a spoonful of that in as well. He shookthe jar to mix it, then contemplated it for a moment and added the last of hispackages of chamomile. “Soak a spoonful’s worth in warm milk at night—water ifyou don’t care for milk, but no alcohol—and drink it down a few minutes beforeyou go to bed. It should give you a head start on a good night’s sleep. Itshould certainly suffice to keep your dreams pleasant through the length  of a nap.”

Master Surrus’s expression was a trifle…disappointed, itseemed. “Thank you.” He shook his head. “I suppose it would be too much to hopeyou had a Peverell’s Demon on hand.”

Hiram laughed with delight. He couldn’t stop himself; it hadbeen a very long time since he’d heard that particular name brought up. “Areyou trained in the classical philosophies, then?”

Master Surrus blinked. “You know of Peverell’s Demon?”

“Who doesn’t? A creature devoid of desire except to serve,but only able to do so in a manner that is both destructive and creative at thesame time, in equal measure. A hypothetical posited to students of manydifferent stripes, so that they can examine their own biases and thoughts withrelation to their field of study.”

Master Surrus nodded encouragingly, his smile back fullforce. “A gentle introduction to discussion and, more importantly, todisagreement. Not to mention finding a creative and hopefully positive solutionto a problem.”

“Indeed.” Hiram chuckled and shook his head. “Ah, it’s beena long time since I’ve contemplated Peverell’s Demon, Master Surrus. Not sinceI was a student myself.”

The other man sat back a bit farther in the other chair, hisgaze contemplative. “And what does a student of herbology make of Peverell’sDemon, Master Emblic?”

In truth, most herbalists would know nothing of thisparticular philosophical construct. It acted as a thought experiment to thosewho went into more esoteric fields of study, which herbalism decidedly wasn’t.But Hiram was enjoying the conversation and wanted to draw it out a bit longer.Tilda wasn’t back yet…there was no one waiting for his services…what could ithurt?

“An interesting question,” he said after a moment. “The mostdirect application of this particular Demon lies in the harvest of ingredientsfor the things an herbalist makes. That’s destruction and creation in equalmeasure. However, the same could be said of most types of healer, or even afarmer, so that’s not a very compelling or unique example. Let us consider yourparticular predicament, Master Surrus.” He idly rolled the jar back and forthin his hands as he spoke. “You wish to be free from your nightmares. Nightmaresin and of themselves are creatures that can have many different layers anddistinctions. Without knowing how to name your nightmare or the depths fromwhich it springs, I cannot outright kill it with the tricks of my particulartrade. Even if I could, it’s likely other parts of you would be affected. Partsyou’d rather keep whole.”

This was the point in a conversation where a normal sort ofperson would blink or look away, but Master Surrus didn’t so much as twitch. “Andso I must dance around this nightmare instead and create a different sort ofbarrier,” Hiram went on. “Something less effective than an outright assassin,but more effective than a child with a pointy stick.”

“I don’t know about that,” Master Surrus murmured. “Childrenwith pointy sticks can be quite dangerous.”

“I daresay you’d know best. Nevertheless, and at the risk ofbelaboring the metaphor, in your case the Demon cannot seek outright destruction.It can only seek to tame, and so Peverell would say this is a weak example ofthe good to which this predicament is applicable. Personally, though, I wouldsay that murder is always a serious undertaking, whether you’re slaying your nightmareor someone else’s, and that softening is as good a place to start as any.”

He set the jar down on the table and reached for one of theempty sachets, stretched it over the top, and bound it in place with a piece ofleftover twice. “This should last you until the next Market Day,” he said,focusing on the knot he was making instead of the weight of those bright blueeyes. “Come back then and let me know how it works for you.” When Master Surrusreached for his money, Hiram shook his head. “A fair exchange for aninteresting bit of conversation,” he said as he held out the jar.

Master Surrus stared at him for a long moment before saying,“I don’t think my value as a conversational partner is so high.”

“I get to be the judge of that, I’m afraid.”

“No, truly. I can’t…I can’t accept this for free.” WhenHiram started to speak again, Master Surrus shook his head, then leaned inclose. “Let me give you a useful bit of advice instead, if you don’t mind. TheHigh Cleric of Melemor is a true devotee of his god, but his ability withprayer is akin to attacking with a glass bludgeon. He strikes hard at the most obvioustargets, but he can only strike once. If you were to for some reason be calledout during a service and asked to confess your lies before his god, it wouldn’tbe impossible for a mind like yours to position only that which you wereprepared to share front and center for the blow.” Master Surrus held his eyesas he took hold of the jar, then stood. “Thank you for your time, MasterEmblic.”

“Hiram.” It felt important to break down this particularbarrier before he left. “Please, call me Hiram.”

Master Surrus smiled. “You may call me Avery, but not wheremy students can hear you. I’ve got a reputation to maintain, after all.” Thenhe turned and walked away, and Hiram was left feeling a trifle breathless forno good reason.

“I know why, you horny old—”

“Shut up, Phlox.”

 Notes: Time to finish up this riveting conversation and get this show on the road! Gravity wave...space lane...whatever.

PS, it's raining in Colorado today--like, a LOT of rain--and now I really want hot chocolate. Gonna have to go get me some of that as soon as I get this posted. 

Title: Hadrian's Colony: Interlude: Carlisle Pt. Two

***

Interlude: Carlisle Pt. 2

Photo by Giancarlo Duarte

 She wanted to lashout at him. What do you know about his pain, or mine? But that would beanother misstep, she was sure of it. Carlisle stared coldly for a moment beforesaying, “I need fresh clothes.”

“In the drawer behind you.” A seam appeared in the wall thatCarlisle was certain hadn’t been there before, and she found sleep clothes withbuilt-in undergarments and socks inside. They were long-sleeved, and the clothadjusted to fit her as she slid into it, then—a wave of warmth rippled over herbody, and she stared down at the clothes with incomprehension. How—

“It warms or cools based on species assessment and ambienttemperatures if you’re more than a few percentage points off normal,”Desfontaines told her. “You can turn that functionality off if you don’t carefor it.”

“No,” Carlisle said hoarsely. “No, I…it’s fine.” It was morethan fine, it was the first time she’d felt warm in days, maybe weeks. Maybelonger. She wasn’t going to thank this arrogant son of a bitch for it, though.

“Good. Want anything else? Water? Food?”

Both sounded good, now that she felt more assured that hewasn’t going to throw her into a storage compartment or something. “Yes.”

Desfontaines got up and moved over to the small mess area, slidinga door back to reveal a plethora of boxes and cans. He dispensed hot water froma tap in the wall into a mug, then added two scoopfuls of powder to it. Everymove he made was economical, and unnaturally quiet too. Carlisle didn’t quiteknow why, until she realized he was standing right beside Kieron.

He’s trying not to wake him. Well. Say what you wouldabout this asshole—and she could say a lot—but at least he was dedicated to her—toKieron.

He grabbed something else out of the cabinet, then came backand handed both items to her. One was a meal bar, which was fine but not asfancy as she’d expect for a man who was supposed to be responsible for most ofan entire planet’s net worth. The other… “Oh,” she whispered after she tastedit. Chocolate. How long had it been since she’d tasted chocolate? She drankmore deeply, then again, finally tipping the mug back so that the last fewdrops rolled into her mouth and across her tongue.

“Kieron’s a die-hard coffee fan, but he likes hot chocolateevery now and then,” Desfontaines said from where he’d sat himself down again. “More?”

Carlisle evaluated the state of her stomach and shook her head.“Not yet.” She hadn’t had much to eat or drink over the past few days, and thelast thing she wanted was to make herself sick in front of this man.

“All right.” He nodded, then stretched his lengthy legs outin front of himself and crossed his joined hands over his middle. It was alanguorous pose, but the intensity in his eyes showed it for a lie. “Now thatyou’re all fixed up, I want to talk to you about what’s going to happen next.”

Carlisle’s lips twisted into a sneer. “Already thinkingabout where you’ll get the best bounty for me?”

“On the contrary. No one wants you,” he replied, and damnbut if that didn’t hurt a little. “No one out there remembers Hadrian’s Colony,”he went on, perfectly matter-of-fact. “No one cares about your little powergames and the price you paid for them. No one gives a shit about the Generaland how hard he tried to be a god. The only person left who gave a shit about findingout what happened back here in the first place is lying on the floor overthere.”

“Why did you let him come?” It wasn’t the question she’dintended to ask, but slipped out despite herself. “If you love him so much, whylet him do this to himself?”

Was that pity in his eyes? “You don’t understand howlove works very well, do you?”

“Fuck you,” she spat. “You don’t—”

“Keep your fucking voice down.”

Carlisle’s mouth snapped shut. They both sat in silence fora moment as Kieron shifted on the cot, finally settling again after a fewseconds.

“I want to make something very clear to you,” Desfontainessaid once he was content that Kieron was asleep again. “Kieron Carr is a goodperson in a way you’re not capable of being. I don’t say that to offend you,”and it didn’t offend her at all, actually, “but because it’s the truth. Helooked at you and saw someone worth saving, someone worth risking his life for.I enabled that because he needed me to, but that’s as far as it goes. I’m nothere to help facilitate a better relationship between the two of you. I preferthere to be no future relationship between the two of you, but I’m not naïveenough to think I can put him off now.

“So. My proposition to you is this. Once we’re done withthis planet, I equip you with a ship and a stipend. You go do whatever it isyou want to do—explore new places, look up your old flame, hire yourself out asa mercenary, I don’t care. Go learn how to live like a human again, but do itsomewhere far away from Kieron, because you’ve hurt him enough.” His words cutlike knives, shredding her but also freeing her from the weight of expectationsshe knew she couldn’t live up to.

“You’re not a mother, even though he’d like you to be,” hewent on, looking her straight in the eyes. “And that’s fine, you shouldn’t takeon a role that you’re not prepared for. It wouldn’t be healthy for either ofyou to try and fail right now. I’ve got him, all right? I’m not perfect, but Ilove Kieron. I’m going to marry him. I’m going to live the rest of my undoubtedlyamazing life with him, and I’m going to make sure he has everything he needs tobe healthy and happy, and that doesn’t include you right now. It can’t.” Thenhe smiled, just a little. “It’s okay. I’ll make sure you don’t hurt him.”

Carlisle slumped back against the wall, a matching smilecoming to her lips. “Thank you,” she murmured, then looked down at her emptymug. “Can I have another hot chocolate now?”

“Absolutely.”

 Notes: Let's see where the market day takes us, shall we?

Title: Quaint Escapes for Traitorous Bastards, Ch. 7 Pt. 2

***

Chapter Seven, Part Two

Market Day

It was very convenient, having your own horse and cart.Well, mule and cart. Well, unicorn and cart, but no one knew about thatbut their little cabal. Hiram was able to pack himself up early, before the skywas beginning to lighten, and get to the market as one of the first vendors toarrive. He figured it was in his best interest to arrive before Mayor Hurst did;far easier to ask for forgiveness than permission and all that. It was anattitude that had taken him far in life.

All the way to Lollop, Hiram mused as he found anunmarked section of the square and began to set up. Judging from the chalk outlinesbeside him, he was going to be between a baker and a tinker this time around.Excellent company, excellent. It was the work of just a few minutes to erecthis stall, finishing by putting out the sign that Tilda had commissioned forhim as a welcome gift—MASTER EMBLIC’S HERBAL ELIXIRS on a piece of wood cut inthe shape of a multi-petaled flower, painted in white, pale yellow, and orange.It was pretty, almost delicate, and was probably the journeyman Karla’s work.

Hiram took a last look at it as he rubbed his handstogether, then set a silent alarm over the entire little stall to warn him ifsomeone bothered it and began to wander the square. He idled from booth tobooth, greeting people he remembered from before and introducing himself to theones he’d yet to meet. Most of them were quite friendly, but there were a fewwho treated him with open hostility, including—

“I’ve been told you think you have skills that match thoseof a temple priest,” a man in the bright red robe of a High Cleric of Melemorsaid stiffly as he looked down at Hiram from the other side of the stone altarhe and his acolytes had set up.

“I don’t know where you’d have heard such a blatant lie,”Hiram replied affably. “I would never compare any of my skills to a cleric suchas yourself.”

The cleric’s eyes flashed for a moment, and Hiram was reluctantlyreminded of the fact that Melemor was more than just a god of healing, he was agod of truth. “You know exactly who told me of your blasphemous ways.”

Hiram shook his head. “Oh, hardly blasphemous. I hail from aregion where Melemor isn’t commonly worshipped, that’s all.”

“Yes. A northern barbarian. But you’ve chosen Lollop as yournew home,” the cleric said, sounding like that was the most unfortunate thingever. “And that means you must adapt to new ways if you’re to be accepted inour community.”

Uh-oh.

“Which means attending services this Lares and allowing meto perform a ritual cleansing on you.”

Big fucking uh-oh.

“So that we all may know the truth of your heart and fullybring you into the fold of Lollop.”

Holy torture chamber of Belitune. “That’s far toomuch trouble to go to for me,” Hiram said, careful to keep himself as calm onthe outside as possible even as his heart raced. “I would never dream ofinconveniencing the temple in such a way.”

“As I am the High Cleric of the temple, and my word there islaw, there is no inconvenience,” the ascetic man said, an uncomfortably smugsmile on his face. “I insist, in fact.”

“I will consider it,” Hiram said, returning the smile as hetried to move on.

“A refusal would be tantamount to an acknowledgement of spiritualguilt, a plague capable of spreading throughout our beloved town. The goodmayor would have no choice but to oust you from your dwelling, for the good ofthe people.”

Oh. Of course, of course that fuck was behind this. Hursthad tried outright intimidation, he’d tried bending tax law to his will, andnow he was going the religious route. Hiram was mildly impressed; that was alot of work to undertake for a single newcomer to Lollop. He must have mademore of an impression on the bastard than he’d reckoned on.

Fine. There were ways around the rituals of every god. Notall of them were nice, but Hiram was certain he could come up with a remedyfor his newfound straits before Lares. He had…what, five days? Five days. “Whata wonderful temple you run,” he said with a smile that was just a bit toobright. “To be so concerned for the well-being of every person in Lollop. I’venever heard of such diligence before, and I’ve traveled from one side of thecontinent to the other in my quest to better my craft. Tell me, High Cleric,what’s your name?”

“Ismaen Velagros,” the man said after the barest hesitation.“But you may address me as Holy One.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Hiram said, and when he went tomove on this time the priest let him go.

He wandered idly, mind mulling over the prospect of a publicinvestigation of his cover story with the power of a god behind it, until ahand on his arm finally brought him out of his reverie. He turned quickly, startled,but it was just Letty. “The market opens in five minutes, Master Emblic,” shesaid, a bit of concern in her face. “Shouldn’t you get back to your stall?”

“I should indeed,” he agreed. “Thank you for getting my headout of the clouds, Letty.”

“You’re welco—Rickie! Go back to Da!” But Rickie had alreadyfound Hiram, and was clutching his leg with a yearning expression.

“Esme?” he asked.

Letty sighed. “He’s been asking after his imaginary friend everysingle afternoon once we get home, it’s driving Mama spare. I told him he couldplay with her just as easily at our place as at yours, but he doesn’t want to.”

“Can’t,” Rickie insisted, a truculent expression on his littleface. Hiram felt for him. It was never nice to be separated from a friend, but itwas also too risky for Esme to follow the child to his house every evening. Besides,as a sphinx she needed time to herself for vital pastimes such as napping,eating, and thinking up inscrutable riddles for terrified passersby.

“You’ll just have to come by again soon,” Hiram said to thelittle boy, stroking the top of his pale head before detaching him and handinghim over to his sister before ambling back toward his own little stall.

He found Tilda waiting for him, elegant as always in thecoolness of the morning, a thick purple shawl wrapped around her shoulders anda steaming mug of tea in each hand. “Is that for me?” he asked winningly as he quicklypopped open the second chair and pulled it into position for her.

“No, it’s for your mule,” she said easily, and Hiramlaughed. “By the by, where…”

“I got permission from Jonn to put her in a stall at the YewBrew,” he said. “She’s got oats and fresh water and will no doubt not want toleave by the time the day is over.”

“Lovely.” Tilda smiled as she pulled the ledger over and,after dipping the quill pen in the bottle of ink Hiram had provided, wrote outtoday’s date at the top of the page. “I didn’t know you two were such friends.”

“I think he appreciated me taking the heat of Robard, to behonest,” Hiram said as he heard the cowbell by the market entrance begin to ring.The day had officially begun. He ignored the frisson of excitement that rolleddown his spine and sat back in his chair, as relaxed as he could be after thestart he’d had. He debated telling Tilda about his altercation with the HighCleric, but eventually decided against it. He couldn’t go to her to handleevery muddle he got into, after all.

They chatted lightly as they sipped their tea, and it wasn’tlong before the first potential customer sidled up. It was an older woman,thin-faced, one hand on her midsection and a look of doubt in her face. “Herbalism?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hiram said, putting on his most professionaldemeanor. Some people could be jested with, others responded well to softness.This woman looked like she needed something trustworthy. “Is there anything Ican help you with today?”

Her lips worked for a moment before she finally said, “Gotanything for bindings?”

Bindings? Who would bind a farm woman’s soul to a—oh.Bindings. “What have you tried so far?” Hiram asked, gesturing for herto step up as he pulled another chair out from behind the table and opened itfor her to sit in.

“Oh, the usual,” the woman said, setting her hand on theback of the chair but not sitting. Skittish. “Dandelion weed tea, burntbean infusions. Nothing’s moving down there.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“Nearly a week,” she admitted. “I don’t know how much more Ican take.”

Oof. No wonder she didn’t want to sit. Hiram smiledsympathetically. “I think we can do something for you, ma’am.” He asked a fewmore questions about her diet, how things usually were for her, and finallyhanded over three sachets of senna and diced prune tea. “Make all three todayand drink them two hours apart. Take them with a lot of honey,” he advised. “Bytonight you should be feeling much better.”

“Lord, I hope so,” she murmured. “How much for the lot?”

“One and a half bits.”

The woman’s eyebrows rose. “That’s not much.”

“An opening day bargain,” Hiram said before the woman couldaccuse him of selling fraudulent products. “Since it’s my first time doingbusiness here.”

Her face cleared. “Ah. Well, that’s happy for me, then. Ifit works.”

“Oh, it will work.” All of his products would work, Hiramhad made sure of that. Not…magic, just a little touch of aura thatguaranteed results. “Make sure you drink a lot of tea and small beer afterward.You’ll need the liquid,” he said as she handed over the little pieces ofcopper.

“I’ll do that.” She left, and was soon after replaced by someoneelse, then another, then another… The rest of the morning flew by in a seriesof salutations, conversations, and in one particular instance a woman who hedirected to the clerics immediately after listening to her heart. That rhythmwasn’t normal, and an acute symptom deserved acute treatment.

“I’m famished,” Tilda declared once the sun was high in thesky. “It’s been hours since breakfast.”

Hiram nodded, not looking up from the pages where he wasmaking his own notes about the problems and queries people were coming to himwith. His basic potions were doing quite well, but there were a few things hehadn’t prepared well enough for, including the large number of digestive issuesgoing around.

Something in the water, perhaps? An issue with the river?What was upstream of this town, anyhow?

“Shall I get us something?”

“Please do.” Hiram pushed the jar they were keeping themoney in toward her. “Take whatever you need out of this.”

“Hiram.” Tilda shook her head. “At this rate, you’re notgoing to make any profit from today’s market at all once you pay out the tenpercent tonight.”

He shrugged. “Today is more about building my reputationthan making a pile of money.” He added, cheekily, “I’ll save that for nextweek.”

She rolled her eyes but took a small amount of copper withher before walking away, leaving Hiram to himself for the moment. He took a quickinventory of stock—good on tisanes, running low on the sachets and barelyhalfway done, but he’d hone in on the proper amount before long—and made a fewmore notes before a shadow fell over his table.

Hiram looked up with a smile. “Greetings,” he said, but hisvoice trailed off a bit at the end of the word as he found himself looking atnone other than the handsome man he’d nearly run into at Master Spindlestep’sshop. He looked different in the full light of day. A touch haggard for a manso young, but those bright blue eyes were as penetrating here as they had beenthen. After a moment, he smiled in return, and Hiram had to remind his heartthat galloping was absolutely inappropriate at a time like this. “Will you sit?”he said.

“Thank you,” the man replied, and sat down so close theirknees almost touched beneath the table. There was nervousness in his expression,but liveliness too, and Hiram fought to keep his grin from appearing.

Whatever happened next, it was sure to be interesting.

 Notes: Welp. Here we go, into the emotional resolution. Buckle up, buttercups.

Title: Hadrian's Colony: Interlude: Carlisle Pt. 1

***

Interlude: Carlisle: Pt. 1

Photo by Nazmi Zaim

There was surprisingly little franticness to their rescue.Given that it was being handled by a bunch of civilians, that wasn’t what Carlislehad expected. She’d thought to see tears, breathless exhalations, fear in theeyes of whoever was coming for them.

“Whoever” turned out to be a tall, slender Ganian withovergrown facial hair who walked with a limp and talked at a hundred kilometersa second. He stepped out of the little ship that she remembered from theirill-fated foray…it felt like weeks ago now…and through the pouring rain like hedidn’t even feel it. He didn’t say anything to her, just made eye contact, andCarlisle immediately moved off of Kieron.

Elanus Desfontaines picked him up and carried him over tothe ship without looking back, and Carlisle thought for a moment that that wasit. Maybe things had finally gone too far for her son’s companions to tolerate.Maybe they were finally ready to let her face her fate and get the dying overand done with already.

Then she looked at the flames rising from the compound and knewthat, for Kieron’s sake, there was probably nothing they wouldn’t do to keepher alive right now.

Sure enough, Desfontaines came back a minute later. He didn’tpick her up, just got her to her feet and clasped her arm supportively. “Let’sgo,” he said, and Carlisle did her best to go. It was hard—the dregs ofwhatever she’d been drugged with were still in her system, throwing her balanceoff and leaving her with the urge to retch—but she didn’t have any structuraldamage that couldn’t wait. She staggered into the ship—the ship with the brain,Kieron had talked a bit about it, like a kid to him, ha. Then she wasunceremoniously sat down against a wall and ignored as a bunch of conversationshappened all around her.

“Get us away from this shithole, baby, I don’t want to riskany secondary explosions giving you fits,” Desfontaines said as he croucheddown beside Kieron on the cot on the floor. The little bot she remembered fromlast time was with him, sitting by his midsection and purring like some sort ofcatterpet. With four of them in there, spacing was very tight even though thebot didn’t move, and Carlisle had to shift her legs several times to avoidbeing stepped on.

“Daddeee, I’m low on Regen,” a voice said over the ship’sspeaker. It was a female voice, young, with a strange lilting accent. Carlislehad never quite heard anything like it, and she closed her eyes and sharpenedher ears to get a better sense of what was going on.

That’s right. Lull them into a false sense of security.That way you’ll learn what you need to know about them without—

No. Stop. These weren’t enemies, and Carlisle couldn’tthink about them that way.

The problem was, she didn’t know how else to thinkabout them. Kieron was their only connection, her poor, fucked up son, and he wascurrently unconscious. No one else had any reason to like her, especially notafter the lengths they’d had to go to to get her out.

“Use what you’ve got on Kieron.”

“But Daddeee…initial scans indicate that…ummmm…” The wallsof the ship somehow turned a pale, peachy pink color.

“Don’t worry about it, Catie,” Desfontaines soothed. “Carlisleis very accustomed to dealing with little inconveniences, and we’ll get a freshinfusion for you to produce with from Lizzie in the next twelve hours or so. Kieronfirst.”

“Kierrron first,” Catie agreed, and that…was that.

It wasn’t that Carlisle disagreed. On the contrary; if she’dbeen asked for her opinion, she would of course have said that Kieron ought tobe given whatever he needed to stabilize him. Carlisle wasn’t sure where his woundswere, but the man hadn’t collapsed for no reason. So she sat there and took it,took the chills that shook her and the pain in what felt like every overworked musclein her body and the broken bones in her foot and nose and the swelling andinflammation, until the ship was set down once more and said, “He’s beeeetter,Daddy.”

Desfontaines smiled a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Damagereport, baby.”

“Deep hematooomas, some superficial cuts that arrre healednow, mild hypooothermia, and severe nerve channel dysregulation in the braaain.”

Dysregulation?

“Shit, I thought we fixed that.”

“I think prolonged stress makes it worse, Daddeeee.”

Desfontaines nodded. “So the only fix is R and R, then.”

“Prolooonged R and R, Daddee.”

“Well. I think we can make that happen, baby.” He smiled atnothing—certainly not at Carlisle. “Make the rest of the Regen availabletopically, tell everyone upstairs that we’re going to sleep for a while, thenget some rest too, okay? You as well, Bobby.”

“Yes, Daddeee.” The lights began to power down, the humminglittle bot went quiet, and soon it was just Carlisle and Desfontaines lookingat each other in a strange, liminal twilight space.

“Undress as far as you’re comfortable,” Desfontaines saidbefore getting up and going to Regen unit.

Carlisle shifted. “I don’t need help with treatment.”

“Did I ask?”

“I’m telling you what I’m comfortable with.”

“Fine.” Desfontaines threw a small, one-shot bottle of Regencream to her. “Then handle it yourself. Good luck getting the spots on yourback.”

Smug son of a bitch. Carlisle stripped down, unafraidof being nude for the first time in…oh, she couldn’t even remember. But ifthere was one thing she was confident of, it was that her son wouldn’t be in arelationship with a rapist. She was filthy, and debated asking for a towel beforeDesfontaines threw her one anyway. It was imbued with a cleanser, and did a decentjob cleaning and disinfecting before she put the cream on.

Carlisle sighed as the pain finally began to ebb. It wouldn’tdo much for her broken bones, but the surface stuff was the more irritating of itall anyway. She squeezed the last few drops out of the tube and used them on thescratches on her face, then startled as Desfontaines said, “Huh. I see it.”

She looked sharply at him, but he appeared as mild as milk, regardingher like she was some sort of science experiment. “See what?”

“The similarity in your features. I was starting to think therewas nothing of you in him except your freakish pain tolerance.”