Guardian of the Storm (7 page)

Try though she might, she couldn’t summon the image of those she’d loved, not clearly anyway. When she thought about her parents, her younger brother, her best friend, Georgia, she could remember things they’d done together, things they’d said, but she couldn’t really visualize their features, couldn’t remember what their voices had sounded like.

She wondered if anything remained of the colony or if it had been plundered by the natives of Niah, or destroyed by the windstorms and the endless dust. She was torn between a yearning to return, to find something familiar, and a fear of the same—fear that the disease might still linger and strike her down—fear that she would find nothing at all remained and would have to accept that, not only everyone, but everything that was familiar to her was lost forever.

Chapter Six

Kirry landed beside her so abruptly it startled a squeak of fright from her. It was several moments before she even realized it was the little grat, for it was carrying the carcass of a dead animal in its jaws and looked like something out of her worst nightmares. A rumbling sound that reminded her of incessant snoring issued from the small animal’s chest as it dropped the limp carcass at her feet, sauntered over to a rock and leapt up on it, then sat and began to lathe its forefeet with its tongue.

Tempest stared at the animal in puzzlement for several moments, then looked down at the carcass. A faint smile curled her lips as it occurred to her that it was an offering. “You brought me food?”

Kirry, naturally enough, only stared at her. Finally, she blinked and returned her attention to her grooming.

Tempest chuckled, but reached for the carcass cautiously. When Kirry continued to ignore her, she got up and looked around until she found a chip of stone with a sharp edge and went to work cleaning it.

Kiran had thought it best not to make their campsite too close to the pool of water, and he’d taken the skins to fill them, so she had no water either to clean the food, or her hands. When she’d finished, she laid the meat carefully on a stone and shoved it into the edge of the fire, then cleaned her hands the best she could by scooping up sand and rubbing it between her hands.

To her relief, Kiran returned shortly, carrying the skins and a small animal. “We will not have much from this, but it is late. The animals had already come to drink and scattered.”

Tempest smiled. “Kirry brought something, too.”

Kiran gave her a curious look, then glanced at the grat before moving toward the fire to place his own kill on a stone to cook. When he saw there was already meat cooking, he turned to look at Tempest, who was busy washing her hands. “There is meat here.”

Tempest let out a gurgle of laughter, so pleased that Kirry had proven herself useful that she felt almost dizzy with it. So much for his disapproval! “You didn’t believe me?”

Kiran frowned, glanced from Tempest to the grat and back again. Tempest could tell from his expression that he thought it was some sort of trick she was playing on him.

“The grat killed this? Then brought it to you?”

Tempest chuckled. “She did! Dropped it right at my feet.” She glanced at the grat. “She’s such a clever girl. Aren’t you, Kirry?”

Kiran didn’t look at all pleased when she glanced at him again and Tempest frowned. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head slowly, still frowning, but finally dismissed it. “The Mordune were here. I do not believe they will come back, but I think it best if we kill the fire once we’ve eaten.”

Tempest felt a shiver of dread. “What will happen if we meet up with them?”

“We will not meet them if we are careful.”

That wasn’t terribly reassuring. “What if we’re careful and we
still
meet up with them?”

Kiran frowned. “I will protect you.”

That wasn’t really very reassuring either. She had no doubt that he was a competent warrior, maybe even much more than just competent, but she had a feeling that there had been a number of Mordune, too many for one man to have a chance against. Not that she wouldn’t do her best to help, but realistically, she knew she couldn’t be much of a deterrent. Unlike Kiran, she had no weapons. One laser pistol—if she’d had the forethought to take one with her when she’d left the colony and not disposed of it as she had pretty much everything else—could have evened the odds considerably, but there wasn’t much point in thinking about it. She had no idea how Kiran’s archaic-looking weapons were even used, and she was fairly certain they had been designed for the size and strength of a Niahian man in any case.

“The Zoeans war with the Mordune?” she asked hesitantly.

Kiran shrugged. “At times we clash.”

“But nobody knows why?”

Again, he shrugged. “It was long ago—before the growing things died and Niah became desert.”

Tempest’s eyebrows rose. “You think it might have had something to do with the change in the planet? Like a great war, I mean, that killed everything off?”

“Even the Keepers of the Memory do not know.”

“How do you know they don’t know?”

“They have never said.”

“That doesn’t mean they don’t know, only that they’re not telling if they do know,” Tempest pointed out.

Kiran frowned, obviously more irritated than thoughtful. “They are the Keepers of the True Memory. They are careful to preserve only what happened. They would not tell untruths.”

“Hmm.”

Kiran glared at her. “You are not of this world. You know nothing of our people. You are not in a position to judge.”

“Maybe not,” Tempest said tightly. “But from what I
have
seen, the people of this world aren’t a whole hell of a lot different than
the people
, which means they not only lie sometimes, but they also only see their own side of things, which isn’t always the complete truth. My father told me that history was recorded by the victors, and they always told everything from their own side. He said it was natural to want to take pride in the things they’d done and that I should always look at both sides before I made a judgment because, without actually meaning to lie, they might gloss over the ugly things … or just leave them out.

“If it isn’t the whole truth, then its partly a lie.”

Kiran gave her a strange look. “Your father was wise for an Earthling.”

Tempest rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help but smile. It was a backhanded compliment if she’d ever heard one, but it was actually pretty amusing to have someone from such a backward world comment on the intelligence of Earthlings, who’d been far superior, at least technologically.

“This amuses you?”

Tempest shook her head. “Pride goeth before a fall,” she quoted, with no idea what the origins were, except that there was a lot of wisdom in it.

“This means?”

“Be careful you don’t trip over it and learn humility the hard way.”

He flushed slightly. Tempest wasn’t certain whether it was from annoyance or embarrassment, but she thought it was terribly cute to see such a big, brawny warrior blush. “You are young to have such wisdom.”

Tempest felt her own color heighten, partly from pleasure at the compliment, and partly because she knew it wasn’t strictly true. “I was taught a lot, but, truthfully, I haven’t had much chance to practice, or experience, the things I learned. Mostly I just know because I was told. How did you learn to speak my language anyway?”

“From the others.”

Tempest’s heart seemed to stand perfectly still in her chest. “There are others? Like me?” she asked breathlessly.

He smiled faintly. “There are none like you. But yes, other young of the star people. The Zoeans took them in to raise with their own young.”

Tempest tried to quell her disappointment. It wasn’t actually that she was completely disappointed. She was still tremendously relieved to realize she wasn’t the only survivor, but it had instantly leapt into her mind when he’d mentioned the others that she had might have a chance of finding a companion among them. “My age?”

He shrugged. “I do not know. Perhaps. I cannot judge the age of Earthlings well. They are far smaller than Niahians.”

“Males?” Tempest persisted, trying to keep the hopeful note out of her voice.

Kiran frowned, looked away, and finally shrugged. His belly tightened, a chaotic tangle of emotions gnawing uncomfortably at his gut as it sank in that Tempest had leapt immediately to thoughts of finding a mate for herself among the star children. He didn’t know why that angered him, but it did—or why it relieved him when he’d scanned his memory and could think of none who seemed near manhood. “Young males.”

Try though she might, Tempest couldn’t contain the thrill of hopefulness and relief that surged through her. In all the time since she’d left, she hadn’t dared even to allow herself to dream there might be others of her own kind, that she might find people she’d known. The colony hadn’t been so large, though, that she hadn’t learned most of the faces, even though she hadn’t really known everyone. She firmly tamped the hope that any of her friends might have made it out alive. It was enough just to know she wasn’t alone, she assured herself, and that there was some possibility, at least, that she had hope of finding a companion among them. If nothing else, she’d have friends of her own kind, people who thought the way she did.

Overwhelmed with joy, she rushed to Kiran and flung her arms around him, hugging him. “Thank you! Thank you!” she cried, laughing and kissing him all over the face with enthusiasm.

Kiran caught her arms, pushing her gently away, and Tempest sat back on her heels, embarrassed now at her impulsive affection, but too happy to feel much discomfort over it. She smiled up at him. “I’m sorry. I’m just so happy,” she added, feeling a surge of tears from out of nowhere.

Kiran’s hands tightened on her forearms. She hadn’t even realized that he’d never released her until that moment. Lifting her arms, she placed her palms on his chest for balance. To her surprise, when she tried to push away to rise, Kiran pulled her closer instead. She looked up at him, both the laughter and the tears of relief abruptly dying. An odd sort of breathless tension took its place as she stared into his eyes.

His expression was harsh, his eyes gleaming with some heated emotion that she was both drawn to and afraid of. He seemed at war with his own emotions and desires, as uncertain as she was. After a moment, however, he closed the distance between them, angling his head slightly and brushing his lips lightly across hers.

Tempest gasped at the strange sensations that poured through her, felt her heart gallop painfully against her chest wall, felt a tingling rush of heat that made her skin prickle all over. Her fingers curled into his flesh as if they had a mind of their own. Her entire body abruptly seemed strangely alien to her.

A tremor went through him as he brushed his lips lightly back and forth against hers. He lifted his head after only a moment, pulled a little away from her.

“They will not make you feel as I can,” he said harshly.

Tempest stared at him blankly. “They won’t?” she asked, having no idea who he might be referring to.

“Were I not bound by my vows, I would show you,” he murmured, his voice husky with promise.

Tempest merely stared at him, unable to jog her sluggish brain into making any sense of what he’d said. She couldn’t, in fact, get beyond anything but disappointment that he had only given her the barest taste of a real kiss. Naturally, she’d done some experimentation, despite her parents’ warnings that ‘kissing leads to capitulation’, but she hadn’t believed them because none of the times she’d tried it before had made her feel like this, had made her the least bit interested in carrying it any further.

Now, she completely understood what they’d meant, because she really hadn’t wanted him to stop and she would have allowed him to do most anything he had wanted to do.

He released her abruptly and moved away and Tempest shivered at the absence of his warmth. Sluggishly, her brain kicked into gear again and she began to wonder what, exactly, he’d been saying, offering.

After a moment, she rose, almost like a sleepwalker, and moved back to the bedding, sitting on it and covering herself with the blanket. The tiny fire had given off little warmth and it had been allowed to die to embers. As she watched, Kiran removed the food carefully and moved over to sit beside her on the bedding, offering her a portion. She took it, but found she’d lost much of her appetite. She ate anyway, knowing she would be hungry later if she didn’t eat, and there would be nothing to eat. Almost absently, she tore off a small piece of her own food and tossed it to Kirry. The grat sniffed it, rolled it around with her paws as if she was playing with it, but, obviously, she’d already eaten her fill.

When she’d finished eating, Tempest rose and wandered off to relief herself and to find the watering hole so that she could wash up and drink her fill before sleeping. Kiran was stretched out in the bedding when she returned and she stopped abruptly, surprised. He hadn’t offered to share the bedding with her since that first night, leaving it to her while he lay on the other side of the fire from her with nothing at all to protect him from the night air.

They had no fire tonight, though, and she supposed it was as much for that reason as any other that he’d claimed a portion of the bedding for himself. After that brief hesitation, she moved toward him with as much unconcern as she could muster, crawled beneath the blanket and lay down on her back, staring up at the stars.

“You are afraid of me now?” Kiran asked, raising up on one elbow to study her in the shadows.

Tempest glanced at him in surprise. Was she? She didn’t think so. She wasn’t afraid of sex, if that was what he was thinking. Before the disaster, she’d looked forward to it with eagerness, impatient to explore the new experience. When he’d kissed her, she’d felt nothing but anticipation, hadn’t really given a thought to what might happen next. If he’d decided to have sex with her, she was fairly certain she wouldn’t have objected at all.

Now she wondered if it was even wise to consider it. For all she knew the Niahians might have taboos regarding copulation that could mean serious trouble for her … for both of them. It was all very well to think about seeking, or accepting, companionship from someone who was not of her own kind when she’d had no choice, but he’d said there were other Earthlings. Wouldn’t it be best to stick with her own kind, particularly since she knew and understood the ways of her own people?