mourning marks that flowed down her face, so much like Esah-Zhurah. Even the immortal First Empress, he saw, could know remorse and compassion.
He felt the pain of the blade across his hand, the flesh of her palm pressing against his. The crystal glowed brighter, pulsing in time with Her heart. He felt the tingling of Her blood in his, felt the warmth, the fire. He heard only Her voice in the song that took his blood, but it needed no accompaniment; it was a universe unto itself.
“You must live,” She said.
“I’ve got something at one o’clock,” Jodi announced as she guided the Corsair through the debris-choked clouds, trusting her sensors to keep her from smashing into the mountains she knew lurked nearby. Below lay the burning pyre that had once been Mallory City.
“Just don’t fly anywhere close to that blue glow, Jodi,” Eustus warned, keeping his eyes fixed on the eerie light that penetrated even the smoke of the burning city.
“Trust me,” she answered. She had no idea what it was, but nothing and no one could convince her to go closer to it than she already was.
Ahead loomed the last of the coastal mountains, and Jodi pulled the Corsair’s nose up to clear them. Beyond lay the coastal plains and the ocean.
“Oh, shit,” Jodi hissed as her ship squawked an alarm. “We’re being tracked. There’s a Kreelan ship down there, some kind of assault boat.”
“Don’t fire on it,” Eustus told her. “Are your shields up?”
“Of course they are–”
“Drop them.”
“Eustus–”
“Drop them!” he ordered. “Dammit, do as I tell you.”
Cursing under her breath she dropped her shields, leaving her ship naked to attack by anyone hefting a fair- sized rock, let alone pulse weapons.
“Look!” Eustus said. “Down there!”
Jodi looked in the direction Eustus was pointing. “Holy shit,” she whispered. On what must be the Plain of Aragon, she could see hundreds of human figures through a light mist. Most of them, she could tell, were not interested in her fighter, but in the perfect circle of Kreelan warriors, hundreds of them, who knelt on the plain itself. And in the open center of the Kreelan circle, she could see three figures.
One of them, she knew, had to be Reza.
“Why aren’t they firing on us, Eustus?” she asked as she circled over the warriors, who seemed to pay her no attention.
“I don’t know,” he said, “but we’d better hurry up and get this over with before they change their minds.”
“Roger that,” she said quietly. She started the landing cycle, lowering the Corsair’s landing gear and transitioning to hover mode. “If anybody ever told me when I was in flight school that I’d be pulling a damn fool stunt like this…”
Jodi set the fighter down smoothly just outside the circle of warriors, some of whom, she could see now, had taken a sudden interest in the new arrivals.
“All right,” she said, her heart hammering, “let’s do it.” Leaving the engines idling, she cycled open the clearsteel canopy and disconnected the umbilicals linking her suit and helmet to her ship. She left her helmet on the shelf over the control panel. Eustus followed her out. “Let’s take it slow and easy,” she suggested.
“Good idea,” Eustus said uneasily. His blaster weighed heavily on his hip, but he knew his life expectancy would be measured in tenths of a second if he reached for it. He followed Jodi out of the cockpit, clambering awkwardly down the diminutive crew ladder that had popped out of the hull.
By the time both were firmly on the ground, the warriors around them were on their feet, and there was no mistaking the hostility on their faces. “I’m beginning to have second thoughts,” Eustus murmured.
“Stay here until I call you,” Jodi told him. She was looking at the three warriors in the ring’s center. One, with white hair that Jodi had never seen on a Kreelan before, was cradling Reza’s body, oblivious to everything around her. A shiver ran down Jodi’s spine.
The other one, with the regulation black hair, stood by like some kind of bodyguard, her hands poised over her weapons, her eyes locked on Jodi and Eustus.
Moving slowly, her arms outstretched, palms open to show she was holding no weapons, Jodi made her way toward where Reza lay in the white-haired warrior’s arms. The bodyguard moved through the surrounding ring of warriors to block her.
“I’ve come for Reza,” Jodi said slowly and clearly. She had no idea if any of them understood Standard, but they should certainly understand his name. “Reza,” she said again, pointing to his lifeless form.
The bodyguard looked confused, suspicious, perhaps, but did not move. Jodi decided to play her ace. It was all you could do when you only had one card left in your hand. Addressing the warrior with the white hair, she called, “Esah-Zhurah.”
The bodyguard’s eyes widened at that. The woman behind her, holding Reza, slowly lifted her head. She fixed Jodi with eyes that were as green as his, and so full of pain that it made Jodi’s heart ache, no matter that this was her sworn enemy, an alien. She said something in a raspy voice to the bodyguard, who saluted with a fist over her right breast and stepped out of Jodi’s path.
Jodi made her way past the warriors, who parted before her, and knelt down next to Reza. “I’ve come to take him home with us,” she said gently, hoping Esah-Zhurah would understand.
“His home,” Esah-Zhurah said slowly in Standard, the alien words coming to her only with difficulty after so many cycles of disuse, “is in my heart.” Her eyes turned to his face, peaceful now, and pale, the thin line of blood from his mouth almost dried. “But you are right,” she whispered after a moment. “It was for your kind that he denied himself before the Empress and parted with all he once loved; it was for your kind that he gave his life. His body, his ashes – even the collar of his honor – I grant you, for he died without Her forgiveness. He died not one with our Way.”
Reaching out with a bared hand, Jodi gently touched Esah-Zhurah’s face. “I’m so very sorry,” she whispered. “I… I know how much he loved you. All these years, he never loved anyone but you.”
“Did you love him?” Esah-Zhurah asked quietly, her magnetic eyes fixed on Jodi’s face.
Jodi flushed with a sudden pang of guilt and embarrassment, but she did not look away. This was not the time for modesty. “I cared for him greatly,” she said. “I… I held him once, at a time when I think he would have died from loneliness, without you. When he slept, he cried out for you. He told me about you, about your love. That’s how I know your name.”
Esah-Zhurah nodded. “Thank you for your kindness,” she whispered. “Will you honor his memory?” she asked.
“Always,” Jodi answered. “He will not be forgotten.”
“Then he is yours,” Esah-Zhurah said, her voice trembling. She carefully laid his body down, smoothing back the hair from the face she so loved. Gently, she kissed him on the mouth. “Fare Thee well, my love,” she whispered in her own language.
Esah-Zhurah stood up and nodded toward Eustus, who walked quickly to where Jodi was kneeling. “You must go quickly,” she told Jodi.
“Jesus,” Eustus said upon seeing the gaping wound in Reza’s chest. He saw the weapon that caused it lying in the grass nearby, its serrated edge festooned with gore. His last delusions about Reza still being alive quickly evaporated, regardless of what Nicole may have said.
“Come on, Eustus,” Jodi said, trying not to look too closely at the wound, “we’ve got to hurry.”
Esah-Zhurah turned away as Jodi and Eustus struggled with Reza’s body. The smell and taste of Reza’s blood were still strong, too strong, and she feared they would always be with her. She watched the blue glow of the First Empress’s pulsating heart, still resting in the mountain crater, and prayed to Her for salvation, for forgiveness. For her own heart was dead, and never would live again.
Eustus was now acutely aware of why Jodi had needed someone’s help. It took both of them to get Reza’s body to the ship. Jodi danced up the ladder to the aft cockpit, standing on the edge of the hull to help Eustus as he climbed up behind her, Reza over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. After a few minutes of precarious balancing and
