Rion (14 page)

When the docking tube ended, the men herded them into the museum and down a series of brightly lit hallways, painted dull
gray, with lots of closed doors. Marisa saw no one except their captors.

Mouth dry, she risked a glance at Rion. Very slightly he shook his head, his signal not to do or say anything.

She’d seen him under pressure before. He’d been calm, but tense. Now he was filled with… stillness.

Moments later, the Enforcers stopped, opened a set of double doors, and gestured them inside. Behind them, the doors clanged
shut. Frightened, she twisted her hands together. Rion reached out to steady her.

For that brief instant, she clung to his strength. Clung to the realization they were still breathing.

When she looked past him into the room, she saw a man standing by a large window. Tall and whipcord lean, he had gold-tinged
skin, blond hair, hollowed cheeks, and an aristocratic nose. He turned the greenest eyes she’d ever seen on them, his gaze
speculative. “You are Sir Rion from the land of Chivalri, sector of Camelot?”

Sector of Camelot? As in King Arthur and Queen Guinevere’s Camelot? Marisa sucked in a breath and forced it out slowly. She
supposed if the transporter at Stonehenge had worked fifteen hundred years ago, she shouldn’t be so shocked at references
to Camelot on this side of the galaxy. For all she knew, travel fifteen hundred years ago through the transporter between
Earth and other worlds had been common.

The man turned his attention to Marisa. “And you are from Earth?”

“You’ve been eavesdropping?” she asked, her stomach sinking.

The man nodded. “After you destroyed the tracer, we could no longer track your progress, but I’m pleased you came here.”

“Really?” She couldn’t get a bead on him. Despite his civil welcome, she sensed he was making a great effort to appear cordial.
But why? In her experience, men in power didn’t treat their captives well unless they wanted something.

Rion nodded curtly. “And you are?”

“Sir Drake. Head of the Enforcers in this quadrant and a loyal Toran citizen who should execute you.” He frowned, his eyes
hard and brilliant.

“But you aren’t going to.” Rion folded his arms over his chest. “Why?”

Drake gestured for them to sit. “Because I am the last native-born Toran in charge of Enforcers.” His words hadn’t answered
Rion’s question, but maybe the picture cube Drake was handing Rion would explain what was going on.

Rion shook the cube and videos showed on every side. At first Marisa didn’t understand what she was watching. She saw Enforcers
shot by what appeared to be other Enforcers. As far as she was concerned, she wouldn’t mind if they all killed one another.
Good riddance.

Rion frowned and tossed the cube back to Drake. “The Unari Tribes are taking over Tor?”

Marisa kept back a gasp. Drake had said he was the last
native Toran Enforcer
in charge. She’d missed the implication of Drake’s statement that offworlders were now Enforcers, but Rion hadn’t.

Drake’s hand closed around the cube. “I believe the Unari have taken over every single position of power among the Enforcers—except
mine.”

“And that’s why you aren’t executing us?” Rion searched the man’s eyes with calm deliberation. “Because the Unari are a bigger
threat to Tor than we are.”

What was Rion thinking? That the enemy of his enemy was his ally?

Sir Drake stood and paced, his hands clasped behind his back. “We cannot fight the Unari without help.”

Their help? Was Sir Drake asking them for help to rid Tor of the Unari? She held back a frown. What could she and Rion possibly
do to help?

“I can tell you what they did to Honor.” Rion’s voice was grim. “The Unari pick planets with a centralized power base, where
it’s easiest for them to plant moles and weaken the infrastructure from within.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Drake said.

“Tor has one supreme ruler, correct?” Rion waited for Drake to nod before he continued, “Suppose the Unari placed their own
man here as supreme ruler? Or as the supreme ruler’s chief adviser?”

“They could cripple us from within.”

“And when they invade, there’s no organized resistance.”

“The Unari may have already replaced some of our politicians with their own people,” Drake admitted.

Rion frowned. “With one central government on Tor, with consolidated power at the top, you make an ideal Unari target.”

The concern in his eyes matched Marisa’s deepest fears for her own people. She had grown up believing that unity created strength.
That it was a good thing to sacrifice national priorities for the well-being of the world community. It bothered her that
the earth she’d left behind was well on its way to forming a global government.

Back home, Europe had gone to one currency decades ago, and Asia, Africa, and North America had followed suit. The United
Nations had blurred the old lines between borders. The soldiers of many nations fought for the Peace Alliance.

Had Earth also consolidated too much power in one place? Were they ripe for a Unari takeover, too?

Drake turned and faced Rion. “If we decentralize, form different countries of Tor, with separate governments, would it make
it harder for the moles to infiltrate us? Make it harder for the Unari to conquer us?”

“It would. If you can get your politicians to listen. But you don’t have much time,” Rion warned. “If the Unari are already
here, it won’t be long until they cut off communications and close down your transporter.”

Marisa watched Drake’s lips tighten. He hesitated.

Finally, he leaned forward and glowered at Rion, as if the threat to Tor was Rion’s fault. “
You
agree that power should be spread out and shared?”

Rion calmly stared the other man down. “I do.”

Drake’s eyes narrowed. “I find that very hard to believe.”

Rion spread his arms. “I once thought Chivalri had the best system of government on Honor. That all Honorians would be better
off under one central ruling body. But I’ve lost my home. I see things… differently than I once did. If I could return to
Honor, I would make sure each realm is ruled by its own leader and governed by independent legislatures.”

Tension between the two men arced through the room. Clearly, there was no love between them. No friendship. No trust. Their
only bond was a hatred of the Unari. Would that be enough for Rion to form some kind of agreement with Drake so she and Rion
could complete their mission?

Rion was speaking as if he was negotiating from a position of strength. Yet as far as she knew, he had nothing to offer. What
was he up to?

Refusing to undermine Rion’s bargaining position, she kept her face blank, her eyes staring out the window. She didn’t know
what Rion was planning, but she trusted him to think fast on his feet.

With their lives on the line, taking a backseat wasn’t like her. It had been such a long time since she’d trusted a man. But
at the moment, letting Rion take the lead seemed natural. He bore the weight of the negotiation well, without so much as a
flinch of emotion.

He appeared steady, in total control. “Is there a spaceship in the museum I can use to fly home?”

She didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Was the ship here? Would Drake actually allow them to go free?

Ever so slightly, Drake nodded.

Rion’s voice remained businesslike. “In return for your looking the other way, I’m prepared to offer something valuable in
return.”

“What?” Drake asked, eyebrow raised.

Rion leaned over the desk, his face intense. “Dragonblood.”

Marisa sucked in a breath. Tor and Honor had fought for centuries over their differences. And for over a thousand years, Honor
hadn’t given up the biological advantage.

The sheer beauty of Rion’s plan, strengthening the Torans so they could fight the Unari, was not only brilliant, it would
become a galactic legend—if it worked. Yet there were parts to this exchange she didn’t understand. She and Rion were prisoners
here. There was nothing to stop Drake from taking their blood by force and giving it to the Toran people.

Drake scowled at Rion. “What trick are you playing?”

“None.” Rion’s face remained open, honest.

Marisa found herself holding her breath and had to remind herself to relax.

Drake eyed Rion with cynicism. “For centuries Tor and Honor have been either at war or vicious competitors. Dragonshaping
gave Honor the advantage. Why would you give that up?”

“If Torans become dragonshapers, you can out the moles. You can kick out the Unari.”

“But if they are already here and they also become dragonshapers—”

“The Unari can’t dragonshape. Their genetics won’t allow them to morph.”

Marisa expected Drake to accept immediately, but the man remained cautious.

“And how would our becoming dragonshapers help you?” Drake asked.

“You fear Honorian dragonshapers, and as long as you fear us, you won’t help us, and we won’t become true allies. For us to
have a real alliance, we need to be equals. Genuine equals.”

“You think after centuries of mistrust, your dragonblood will unify us?”

“It would be a start. As a gesture of good faith, I will give you our dragonblood—no matter whether you decide to give us
the spaceship or not.”

“No matter if we help Honor or not?” Drake leaned forward, his eyes intent. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’ll fight the Unari here on Tor. And anyone who fights my enemy helps my world. Any Unari foothold in this solar
system will eventually hurt Honor. But you can’t effectively fight the Unari without dragonblood. You don’t even know who
they are.”

Marisa realized the problem of outing Unari spies on Earth would be much more difficult. Every Honorian could dragonshape.
Apparently, so could every Toran. But on Earth, only ten percent of the population had the correct genes. And a chill skimmed
down her spine as she imagined the frightening scenario where Unari infiltrated Earth’s governments, military, and conglomerates.

Drake nodded. “Dragonshaping would help us secure our world.”

“Still, the battle won’t be easy,” Rion warned. “But if you understand what those Unari bastards do… you’ll fight to your
last breath.”

“You’ll really just give us—”

Rion lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Do you want the blood or not?”

“Yes.” Drake rubbed his brow, as if his temple ached. “And the ship—such as it is—is yours.”

Rion stood and held out his arm. “Thank you.”

Drake clasped his forearm. “I’ve heard you’re a man of honor.”

Rion smiled. “I would like my grandchildren to grow up free from the Unari, knowing true peace between our worlds.”

“Goddess willing, the dragonblood will allow us to find the Unari moles. Once we rid our world of Unari, we can use Tor as
a base to kick the Tribes out of the solar system for good.”

Marisa hoped he was right, that this alliance would last.

“I will do what I can,” Rion agreed. “Now, will you take us to that ship?”

“You actually lucked out. As part of a joint project with a local university, my best engineering team has been making extensive
renovations on the ship.”

“How far have they gotten?” Rion asked.

“It’s a work in progress.” Drake grinned and gestured to his door. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

The greatest conqueror is he who overcomes the enemy without a blow.

—S
UN
T
ZU

M
arisa and Rion followed Drake through the museum, and Marisa caught sight of Merlin several times, always from the corner
of her eye. Drake didn’t seem to notice the bird, possibly because Merlin was adept at staying in the shadows and merging
into the backgrounds of the interactive displays.

Rion strode beside her, his pace relaxed, yet he remained vigilant, constantly scanning rooms and people as they passed through
a series of exhibits. She recognized some displays, basic astronomy or geology in holographic presentations, but others, like
a series of floating cubes that changed colors and shapes, baffled her.

“So you are in contact with other Enforcers in the city?” she asked Drake. The question had been burning in her mind ever
since he’d admitted to knowing they were coming to the museum.

He glanced sideways at her. “Not all Enforcers are in league with the Unari.”

“You’ve organized a secret network?” Rion asked.

“Yes. We’ve been watching and monitoring transporter traffic in an attempt to figure out who the Unari are and who’s working
for them. We’re especially interested in anyone who comes through the transporter illegally.”

Rion raised his eyebrow. “It happens often?”

“More than you’d think. Most illegal traffic is sophisticated smugglers trying to avoid paying import taxes. But every once
in a while, someone comes through that I suspect is a spy or a mole. So I keep tabs on them. But it’s frustrating, because
the Unari are very good at hiding among us.”

Marisa was surprised Drake had acknowledged so much and wondered if his underground network might be even more elaborate than
he’d just admitted. And once again, she had to consider why Drake trusted Rion at all.