Knight of a Trillion Stars (18 page)

“Yaniff, I have never held the between state more than a moment. I do not know if—”

“If you need me, I will help you.”

Rejar stood above Lorgin. His brother was very weak now, laboring for breath. Rejar closed his eyes and began to metamorphose. Deana watched, part of her terrified for Lorgin, part fascinated by what she was witnessing.

Rejar began to glow from within. Steady streams of photons flowed and arced around him. He seemed to shimmer,
melting
into a gleaming phosphorescence. As Deana watched entranced, he became an amorphous pulsating body of light. It was…
beautiful.

Yaniff spoke in her ear. “Not many witness the transformation
of a Familiar, Adeeann. It is a private thing amongst them. I know you will not speak of it in the future.” Deana nodded her agreement, wondering why such a beautiful thing was kept hidden.

“There are those who fear that which they do not understand. Familiars have learned to guard themselves over time.”

The light moved toward Lorgin. As it became one with him, Deana noticed it begin to weaken and dull. She turned questioning eyes to Yaniff.

“He is in trouble. He cannot hold the state.” Yaniff extended his staff. An arc traveled from the glowing orb at the end into the center of the light. As she watched, the light seemed to grow in intensity, gaining strength.

It passed through Lorgin, shimmering in the night.

Lorgin was breathing easier. He slowly sat up, his eyes going to the light which was his brother. “Rejar!”

As they watched, the light began to flow and meld; a shape was attempting to form. It coalesced, then broke apart.

“Rejar!” Lorgin tried to stand but was still too weak. “Help him, Yaniff. He grows faint.”

But Yaniff was already helping him.

A stream of energy flowed directly from the old man into the center of the now fading light. For an instant nothing happened, then the light sparked, its luminosity intensifying. Soon, Deana could discern a shape coalescing out of the brightness. Rejar!

The glowing stopped when his form acquired substance.

Nude, Rejar slumped to the ground in a heap. Lorgin crawled over to him, quickly draping him with his cloak.

Lorgin intently checked Rejar for any signs of poisoning. He detected none. Seeing that his brother was going to live, Lorgin let his anger out.

“Rejar! I distinctly told you not to do this! As I am the
elder brother, you should have heeded my words. Have I not trained you thus? You—”

Rejar smiled wanly up at Lorgin. “So, the poison has not killed me, but you will?”

Lorgin started to respond, then gave it up. Instead, he ruffled Rejar’s hair—a gesture Deana guessed went back to their childhood. “You do realize that if anything had happened to you, Suleila would skin me alive.”

“That would make dying worthwhile.” Rejar grinned at Deana.

Deana couldn’t recall ever hearing the man speak so many words out loud.

“He is too weak to send his thoughts.” Yaniff knelt beside the dark-haired man on the ground, placing a hand on his arm. “You have done well, Rejar. That is, for someone not of the Charl. Of course, had you been of the Charl, you might have been able to call the forces upon yourself—”

“Please, old man, do not badger me now about joining you. I am too tired to ignore you.”

Yaniff smiled slightly, then stared straight ahead into nothing. “There will come a day when you will be moved to try this technique again. Do not attempt it by yourself, Rejar; it is too dangerous for you.”

Rejar regarded the mystic strangely. Finally he spoke. “I can assure you, old man, I will never be tempted to try that again.”

Yaniff said nothing.

The ancient wizard took Lorgin aside, slapping him on the back. “This old mystic is pleased he has not lost such a promising pupil as you, Lorgin ta’al Krue.”

Lorgin raised an eyebrow at him.

The old man suddenly seemed embarrassed by his display of fatherly affection. He cleared his throat. “Ahem, yes, well, you cannot imagine how tiresome it is to constantly have to train new students from scratch.”

“I imagine after the first four hundred years it becomes tedious,” Lorgin responded wryly. Nonetheless, he clapped the old man on the shoulder, telling him silently that he understood what he was trying to say.

Deana smiled, hearing Yaniff say, “I must tell you some things of Traed…” before the two of them walked out of earshot.

They said their good-byes to Yaniff as he and Bojo entered the tunnels for Aviara. Lorgin and Deana waited awhile for Rejar to regain some of his strength, before they, too, entered the tunnels heading for Zarrain to seek out a man who wanted nothing to do with guests, invited or otherwise. From all accounts, a lone, wounded wolf. Son of a madman.

Traed ta’al Theardar.

It was a weary party that arrived on Zarrain.

The tunnel point deposited them on the outskirts of a frontier town. Deana surmised the town probably served as a way station to the tunnels.

It was night here, as well, on Zarrain.

Deana looked up at a clear sky, alive with stars. In every direction around the settlement was desert. A cool breeze gently wafted her hair.

“This isn’t such a bad place.”

Lorgin looked at her askance. “The nights on Zarrain can be pleasant enough. It is the days which are difficult.” He peered down at his booted feet as he heard a scurrying sound in the sand. “You will find that everything comes out at night here in Zarrain: the stars, the people, and the wildlife. Watch where you step,
zira.
”

Deana looked down, suddenly noticing that the sand was moving below the surface. Just what was under there, she didn’t care to speculate. She thought of Earth deserts, and their snakes and scorpions. “Is anything poisonous here, Lorgin?” Her voice went up a notch at the end.

He did not answer her directly. “Do not worry. I will keep an eye on you.”

How he was going to do that when he was holding up his brother, she didn’t know. Rejar was still very weak. He sagged against Lorgin’s shoulder, the effort of walking
seeming almost too much for him. Deana got on his opposite side, hiking his other arm over her shoulders. He leaned heavily on them both.

Deana was concerned. “Are you sure the poison is gone from him, Lorgin?”

“Yes. He would be dead if it were not. His energy level is very low. He just needs some time to recuperate his strength. He should be fine by the morrow.”

The three of them headed slowly toward the town.

When they were almost there, Lorgin suddenly whipped out the Cearix and hurled it at Deana’s feet. There was a whooshing sound, then a little shriek split the air. The blade was sticking upright in the sand not an inch from her toe. It impaled a flat, black disc that had a lot of legs. Lorgin bent awkwardly while propping up Rejar, retrieving his blade. Deana stared at him behind Rejar’s back, eyes wide.

“Do not look down, Little Fire. Just keep walking.”

They entered the town a short time later. As Lorgin had predicted, everything appeared to come alive at night in Zarrain.

The joint was really jumping.

Discordant music filled the air; people danced in the streets, several of them drinking from those horns Deana recognized as containing
keeran.
There was a lot of partner-exchanging. Several establishments had their doors flung open to the night revelry. Merchants were hawking wares while sweet/acrid smoke filled the air.

“What’s that sweet smoke?” She sniffed the air.

Lorgin looked away, while Rejar weakly chuckled.

“Well, what is it? Hey, what is that woman with the two mouths doing to that man?”

Lorgin reached across Rejar to pluck at her shirt collar, effectively turning her around.

“Do not gaze upon that. And do not breathe deeply of the smoke, either.”

What a place! Deana peeked down one alleyway and saw what appeared to be a slave auction. She involuntarily shuddered.

Rejar sent her a weak thought
{Oberion slavers. Do not stare, Adeeann, lest you gain their attention.}

She turned away from the horrid sight.

“Why do they allow it, Rejar?” She kept her voice low.

Rejar spoke aloud, his small store of strength rapidly depleting. “This is…a lawless world in a lawless sector. Such despicable activities…are…not…permitted in the Alliance.”

Lorgin cautioned his brother to keep his head down. “We do not wish to draw attention to you here, Rejar. Especially when you are in this weakened state.” He explained to Deana, “Oberion slavers have been known to abduct male Familiars on rare occasion.”

Deana was surprised. “But why?”

“The reputation of their sensuous natures is well-known throughout the sentient worlds. There are…twisted individuals who would pay highly for one.”

Male love slaves? “But—wouldn’t their abilities protect them?”

“Yes, but they are kept drugged, of course. Eventually they escape. No one can keep a Familiar for long who doesn’t want to be kept. However, I have heard stories of them being hunted down and destroyed.”

“How awful!” She turned horrified eyes to Rejar. “Is he in danger here?”

“No. When he has rested, he can protect himself. They would not dare tangle with him.”

Lorgin led them to an establishment farther down the street which was marginally quieter than the others they had passed. Once inside he requested one room with two
beds. “We cannot leave Rejar alone tonight,” he said aside to Deana. She nodded her agreement.

The room was something of a surprise. Both beds hung from the ceiling by ropes. Deana was about to ask about this when she saw something scurry across the floor. The Cearix whizzed past her face striking home.

Great. Just great.

I’m going to be getting a lot of sleep tonight.

No wonder the beds didn’t touch the floor. She wondered if she was going to be hearing that all night:
thwack
of the blade,
squeak
of the victim. She sighed deeply.

Lorgin deposited Rejar on one of the beds, helping him remove his boots. The weary Familiar sank back onto the cushions with a grateful sound. At least the beds looked clean and comfortable.

Deana hopped up on the other bed. It swayed back and forth, back and forth. She was getting seasick.

Thwack—squeak.

Oh no.
“Lorgin, are you getting into bed?”
Please, get into bed.

“In a moment.”
Thwack—squeak.

“Lorgin, get into bed this minute!”
Or I will strangle you.
She felt the bed dip and sway as he got in.

He rolled over to her, causing the bed to rock again. “Why is it you are only anxious for me to get into bed when I cannot do anything about it?” His voice was low in her ear.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned her back to him, burrowing under the covers. He curled around her, enfolding her in his arms. Soon they were all asleep.

Several times during the night Deana awoke to the bed rocking wildly as Lorgin turned over in his sleep. Finally, she elbowed him in the stomach. All she got was a mumble for a reply.

“Quit moving around!” she hissed.

His answer was to roll over and cup his palm territorially over her breast in his sleep. The bed swayed some more.

Great. Just great.

Deana opened her eyes to the sight of a long snout with snaggle teeth not three inches from her face. She let out a bloodcurdling scream.

All hell broke lose.

Both brothers had lightning-fast reflexes. Lorgin rolled over on top of her to protect her. Rejar leaped from his bed, tackling the alien. They went down with a crash and rolled across the floor. She heard the sound of pottery shattering, Rejar cursing, and Lorgin laughing. Then she heard a loud, whiny, plaintive wail. Of course she couldn’t see anything because Lorgin was crushing her into the mattress.

“Get off of me! I can’t breathe!” Lorgin quickly rolled over, grinning from ear to ear at the scene in front of them.

Rejar was sitting on the floor on top of the guy with the snout. Food was flung everywhere, dishes smashed. The alien under Rejar wailed ceaselessly. Rejar gave Deana a disgusted look as he flicked a dollop of what looked like oatmeal off of his nose.

Deana couldn’t help but giggle. “I take it this is Zarrain’s version of room service?” Another wail came from the floor. “The poor thing! Rejar, let it loose.” She hopped off the bed to help the unfortunate bellhop.

Lorgin chuckled as Deana helped the Zot to its feet.

“I’m terribly sorry for screaming,” she said earnestly. “You just gave me such a scare.” The Zot gave a little snort of disgust. “Would you like me to help you clean up this mess?” The alien turned his back on her, whipping his tail furiously as he stormed from the room. She turned to Lorgin. “What did I say?”

Lorgin stretched his muscles as he got out of bed. “On top of everything else, Adeeann, you insulted him.”

“How did I do that?”

“By offering to help him, you implied he wasn’t capable of cleaning up the broken dishes. Zots are very sensitive about their responsibilities. I do not think you are his favorite patron today, Little Fire.”

{I empathize with him.}

Deana looked at Rejar. He was covered in food of various hues.

“Oh, Rejar, look at you! I’m so sorry. The past two days haven’t been very pleasant for you, have they? How are you feeling? You look a lot better.”

A glob of goo dripped off his forehead. He gave Deana a stony look.

Deana covered her mouth as she giggled again.

Rejar could just imagine what he looked like. His eyes began to twinkle as he saw the humor in it. Suddenly they were all laughing.

“Did you see the Zot’s expression when you sat on him, Rejar?” Lorgin laughed to his brother. “I wager he will not forget it anytime soon.”

{I do not think he will tangle with a Familiar again. He kept screeching he brought food; he was not the food.}
Rejar laughed out loud at the ridiculous words of the Zot.

Lorgin and Deana ate breakfast in the main room of the inn while they waited for Rejar to clean up. He joined them when they were just finishing, his beautiful personage looking none the worse for the ordeals he had been through.

Deana kept Rejar company while Lorgin went out to purchase supplies and equipment for their journey. Since Yaniff no longer accompanied them, they had to carry all of their supplies with them—no inter-dimensional storage space. Lorgin returned a short time later, sitting down at the table.

“I have purchased all the supplies we will need. The merchant is loading the
prautaus
now.”

Rejar put down his drink. “Were you able to gain any information about Traed’s whereabouts?”

Lorgin leaned forward. “Yes. The merchant knew of him. He resides several days’ journey from here in the direction of the main morning sun.”

“Just a sec!” Deana threw up her hands. “What do you mean ‘the main’ morning sun?”

“Zarrain has binary suns. The larger of the two is referred to as the main, the smaller, the minor.”

“Of course.” She smirked at Lorgin. “I should’ve guessed. So, how hot is it out there?” She nodded toward the doors and the desert beyond.

“Hot enough even for a Little Fire.” He tugged a lock of her hair. “I think it best to travel in the day despite the heat. There is more of a chance of avoiding desert tribes and other…things.”

Deana knew what other things could be around at night in Zarrain. She had seen a few scurrying around last night. Which brought her next question. “If it takes us a few days to reach Traed, where will we sleep? Are there any outposts along the way?”

“A few. They are not as luxurious as this one, though.”

The man was a master of subtlety, Deana thought, viewing the spartan accommodations.

“I have purchased sleeping huts for us as well.”

Sleep in the desert? On the ground? At night—with those
things
squirming around? “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

“You will be perfectly fine.” He ushered her outside into the heat of the day. “We have nothing to worry about. Rejar can always sit on anything that dares to attack us.” He chuckled as Rejar gave him a smile of chagrin.

The heat of the suns bore down on them as they crossed the desert terrain.

Deana had balked when she had found out what prautaus were—great, plodding pack beasts which lumbered along with a swaying, rolling gait. Lorgin had purchased three of the beasts.

First, Lorgin explained to her that the beasts were perfect for this type of travel, requiring little maintenance or water and having great stamina. Then he effortlessly swung her up onto the
prautau’s
back and, before she could object, smoothly mounted behind her.

“Before you ask me why, I will explain.” He adjusted her cape around her. “I am concerned about bandits and slavers. If need be, I think I can better protect you if we are on the same mount. Rejar will take the other beast. The third is for our supplies.”

Perhaps that had been his primary reason. But as the trip progressed, Deana found Lorgin’s hands straying under her cape. She turned, looking back at him over her shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

He turned a guileless face to her. “What?” His hand caressed her midriff, just under her breast.

“You know what!” She placed her hand over his on top of her cape. His was still underneath. He stroked his middle finger against her ribs back and forth in a tickling motion as he bent forward to speak in her ear.

“I have never before known a woman who would challenge a
xathu.
” His thumb rubbed the underside of her breast. “So, you would go to battle for me, Little Fire? Not many Knights of the Charl can boast their mates would defend them thus.”

“I did not exactly go to battle for you, Lorgin. I’m not sure what happened with the
xathu.
And I am not your mate.”

He continued on as if he hadn’t heard her, idly cupping her breast; he ran his thumb across the peak. “Although I
do not know if it is such a good thing for you to take on such a role.”

The idea of her fighting for him was ludicrous and they both knew it. He seemed to be considering it, though. “Perhaps in time you will wish to beat me, also.” His thumb and forefinger caught the hardened peak, giving it a little tweak.

“Lorgin!”

He nipped her ear, ignoring her slapping hand.

“On Aviara, you will have many an opportunity to defend me. All manner of beasts roam the streets—”

“The
streets?
”

“Yes, right out in the open. One never knows. Even a simple journey to a
sacri
can be fraught with peril. Beasts which make a
xathu
look like a kitten.”

She peered at him aghast. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. Men gobbled up whole for a meal, right in the middle of the boulevard.” He shrugged fatalistically. “It makes for a good character, a warrior character, to grow up in an environment such as this.”