Chapter Forty-Three
“Well, I don’t get to be Raiyis of House Vayawand,” Bat’tam said brightly.
“Did you want to be?” Tisianne asked, with very little interest in the answer.
Illyana was a warm presence in her arms, and Tis wanted to be alone with her child to see if a baby’s primal and uncomplicated love would be enough to restore her to emotional life.
It was that cold gray hour before dawn, and Tis was exhausted. Unfortunately she couldn’t sleep. Her mind would not let down, wouldn’t stop replaying the events of the night, analyzing, rearranging, indulging in agonizing “if onlys,” and “what ifs.”
Then there were the ships. Even to as feeble a telepath as Tisianne, the mentatic plane was a scene of telepathic cacophony, for the ships of the Ilkazam were singing the victory. The seniors had left the ship farm and were gathered like giant butterflies in the air above House Ilkazam. There was only one minor note in all this giddy celebration — Baby, reading the misery from the minds of Kelly and Tisianne, and singing their grief.
“No, not really,” Bat’tam continued. “But you must admit it was a wonderful ploy. Any other claimant was too busy fighting. By pressing a claim at such an absurd moment I gave the council a chance to free themselves of Blaise without actually surrendering to the Ilkazam. Of course, effectively we’ve become a cadet house to Ilkazam, but face was saved all around.”
“It was very well done of you.”
“I’m sorry about how things turned out for you —”
“Yes, me too.” Tis rose and walked to the door of her suite. Bat’tam got the hint.
“After you’ve rested, we’ll try to sort out your situation.”
“I’d say you’re the one with the larger problem. My mind is in one place, my body in another. Maybe a triad is the only solution.”
“I think we’d shock Kelly.”
The door closed behind him, and Tis sagged against the carved wood surface. Her guts were jumping, and laying Illyana gently in her crib, Tis bolted for the bathroom and vomited up her stomach’s meager contents. A knock brought her head up from the toilet. She rinsed and wiped her mouth, listened while the guard answered the door. It was Mark. With a sigh she walked back into the sitting room.
“You got a minute?” the human asked.
She made a strange sound: half laugh, part moan. “All the time in the world.” She laughed again. “I’m not going back to being me anytime soon.”
Concerned, he cupped the back of her head in one bony hand. “Are you cool?”
“Yes, absolutely. But you, I think, are not.”
Mark walked ponderously over to a sofa, slumped on the edge, his hands clasped between his knees. “Durg’s dead. He turned…” Trips tapped his chest. “For me. Wonder what that does to a Morakh?”
“Well, I’m sure his psychic pain was brief. He died quickly.” It came out far more acid than she’d intended.
Mark looked miserably up at her. “This whole thing is my fault. I abandoned Durg, and he hooked up with Blaise. Blaise would never have thought to come here if it hadn’t been for Durg. Now Blaise is dead, and Durg is dead, and you’re trapped, and —”
The pressure of her fingers digging deep into his shoulders drew a faint cry from Mark. “Don’t be stupid. I’m too tired to deal with stupid. I’ve spent almost fifty years wallowing in guilt. Didn’t accomplish a damn thing. I’m in this situation because I misread, misjudged, and mishandled Blaise. You had nothing to do with that. As for Durg… yes, you did abandon him, but not maliciously, not deliberately. If there was a sin, it was one of ignorance.” She released him, combed back her hair in a desperate gesture of anger and confusion. “I don’t know what I’m saying, if any of this makes any sense. I guess the point is, don’t waste time on guilt. You want my forgiveness? You’ve got it. You don’t need it, but you’ve got it.”
Mark stood, wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry. You didn’t need me laying my trip on you.”
“I love you, Mark, but for the Ideal’s sake go away.”
He kissed the top of her head and went. Tis summoned Gena and took a bath. For a long time she just floated in the hot, hot water, then paddled over and allowed the maid to soap her hair, and her body. The plump fingers were just unknotting the kink in her neck when there was another hectic rapping on her door.
“Abortion!” She submerged, rinsed suds from her hair, and surfaced to shake water like a hunting dog. Gena dried her, and Tis shrugged into a nightgown and robe, and went to greet her latest caller.
It was Kelly, running in like a terrified child to bury his head in Tis’s lap. She stroked the disordered curls.
“We had to secure Vayawand. They wanted me there. Acted like I was you.” Kelly sounded desperate.
“I suppose to all intents and purposes you are.” Tis rang for Gena. “Would you like a cup of ysan, Prince Tisianne?”
“Don’t! You’ve got to think of something!”
“I’m afraid I’m quite out of ideas.” But Kelly’s touching faith in her had unblocked her mind. However much she might resent it, she was thinking again. After a long moment she said slowly, “Blaise wasn’t the only jumper in the universe.”
“We go home? Try to find one?” Kelly asked eagerly.
Tis smiled ruefully. “It’s not much of a something.”
“I think it’s terrific. Let’s leave now.”
The guard was in the door to the bedroom. “Princess Mon’aella sek Vanbrian sek Ana.”
“Oh, lord,” moaned Kelly.
“Ancestors,” Tis swore.
“Your wife,” Mon’aella corrected as she swept past the guard and shut the door. She absorbed the situation: Kelly seated on the floor at Tisianne’s feet, head on her knee, her hand tangled in his hair. “If you weren’t both my husbands, I could find it in myself to be quite suspicious.” She extended a hand to Tisianne. “We haven’t met. I’m Mon’aella, your bride.”
Tis rose, bowed over her hand. “Charmed.” Their eyes met, and Mon’aella went strolling through Tisianne’s mind. “A little presumptuous on our first meeting, wouldn’t you say?” Tis said lightly.
“I wanted to find out what kind of a man you are.”
Tis swept a hand down her slim form. “A pretty poor one right now.”
“Well, you are an interesting read, and I suppose I could love you for your mind, but overall I think I prefer the bogus one with some meat between his legs.” Mon’aella looked at Kelly. “Come to my suite when you’re finished here. We have plans to make.”
For several moments after her regal exit, Tis and Kelly just regarded the floor. Then Tis sighed and said, “I think I want a divorce.”
Kelly, face burning with embarrassment, mumbled, “I’ve slept with her.”
Tisianne patted him on the back. “That’s all right. Given my libido I suppose it was unavoidable.”
“Can I stay here? I don’t want to be with her tonight.”
“Yes, yes, of course. Take the bed.”
Kelly paused, in the act of shrugging out of his coat. “You’re not going to bed?”
“Maybe later.”
“It is later.”
“Maybe tonight.” Tis lifted Illyana out of her crib and started out of the room. Then looked back and forced out the words. “Have you seen Zabb?”
“Not really. He got real scarce after you all left for Ilkazam.”
“I’m not surprised.”
There was obviously a lot of emotional bleed from Tisianne’s poorly shielded mind, because Kelly coughed slightly and asked, “Would you stay here, as me, for him?”
“No, child. I love him, but that choice has been made. Go to sleep.” And Tis turned off the light and went back into the sitting room.
It was self indulgent, but Tisianne had injected herself with a lactating agent, and her breasts were again filled with milk. Sighing, she unlaced the neck of her peignoir and gown and laid Illyana’s head against her chest. Laughed softly as the baby girl started sucking even before she found the nipple. There was again that jolt of pain and pleasure as the infant began to nurse.
She had almost dozed off. What yanked her awake was the sense of sharp and hostile scrutiny. Her eyes snapped open. Zabb was standing in the center of the room. The fear faded, replaced by anger.
“It is customary to be announced.”
“I told your guard we could dispense with that… now that you’re mine.”
“You never had any intention of preserving Blaise,” Tis said bitterly.
“Did I tell you I would?”
“You gave me your word.”
A shrug. “You’re worth more than —”
“Your honor?” Tis supplied for him. “I find that very hard to believe. You were never sentimental, cousin, and I am no longer an essential piece in your schemes. You have won the day. Find another bride may I suggest Mon’aella — because I am returning to Earth. There were other jumpers besides Blaise.”
“No, no, and no.”
Illyana finished, yawned, waved her tiny fists in the air. Zabb’s eyes were on Tis’s exposed breast, and it made her skin crawl. She quickly tugged the gown back into place, then placed Illyana over her shoulder and briskly burped her.
“She sounds satisfied.” There was no response to that. Tis continued to pat her child, watching Zabb. He walked an aimless spiral, drawing ever closer to her. “I’ve always wondered.” His hand shot out and twitched aside her robe. The skin of his palm was burning hot against her breast. “What it tastes like?” He squeezed down hard.
It was as if his eyes had become glass, and what she saw beyond those gray windows was crawling horror. Tisianne was trapped by the arms of the chair, and the weight of the now-sleeping infant. Reacting more by instinct, she brought up her knee and nailed Blaise in the crotch. He gagged, hunched, and she bolted for her life. Terror closed her throat, sucked air from her lips. Footsteps thudded behind her. She reached the desk, yanked open a drawer. He was almost on her. Whirled and leveled the laser on the center of his chest. He skittered to a stop. That mad, feral smile curved the stolen lips.
“You won’t shoot me, Grand-père. I’m your only ticket home.”
“Guard!”
“He’s dead.”
Then it finally penetrated. Zabb was dead too. Anguish needed some outlet; it emerged as a sharp cry of grief, a sound that resembled nothing human.
“Telepathy’s a really wonderful thing. I haven’t quite got the hang of this body or its powers yet, but I can control you.” Tis gave a mental wail of despair as she felt his mind close over hers. Blaise was loosening his belt. Tis closed her eyes against the approaching horror. “You’re terrified, Granddaddy,” Blaise crooned.
“I can taste it, smell it. I’m going to fuck you.”
“Try it, and I’ll blow your brains out the side of your head.”
The steel teeth released. Tis opened her eyes, felt her knees go weak with relief at the sight of Kelly with a pistol to Blaise’s temple. Logic reasserted itself, and she stooped and snatched up the discarded pistol.
“Now you’ve got a problem, Blaise,” Kelly continued. “She’s got a gun… and I’ve got a gun. I’m a mentat, and I’ve just called for help, and in your case the old cliché applies — you really haven’t got a friend in the world.”
Tis forced herself to take control. “You know what we want, Blaise. What do you want? If it is in my power, by blood and bone, I will give it to you.”
“Get me off Takis with a whole skin, and enough wealth to be set for life.”
“And you will make the jump?”
“I’ll make the jump.”
“You can’t trust him,” Kelly blurted,
“Yes, we can. He knows he is in the stronghold of his enemies. If he betrays us, he will die. And he knows my honor demands that I uphold my part of the bargain. I am a Takisian, and he knows how to turn that to his advantage.”
Blaise gave an ironic little bow. It was a Zabb gesture, but Zabb was dead, and Tis could not take the time to grieve for him. The door to the suite crashed open, and Taj and Mark charged through.
Tis opened her mouth to explain, and then the world tilted, shifted, and Tach found herself looking at the Kelly body. Tis gave a cry of terror as the body collapsed, dropping Illyana. The baby began to scream. Another gut-wrenching twist, and he was back.