Melinda Snodgrass - Double solitaire

The perfume of her hair almost blotted the scent of death. “I turned… for you… I turned.”

“I know. Hush, now.” Tears clogged her voice.

“No one… weeps for a… Morakh.” He looked up into that beautiful face. “Grant me… your forgiveness.”

Moonchild nodded, bent, and softly kissed his lips.

How something as big and inflexible as a Takisian ship could wriggle with delight was a mystery to Jay, but Baby was managing. Light flared and coruscated across the whorls and folds of her outer skin. The lavender and amber running lights mounted on the spines of her back were bright enough to throw shadows.

“Go,” Tisianne was saying. “Baby has her orders. She will carry all of you to the neutral station.” Tisianne tenderly kissed the top of her child’s head and laid Illyana in Hastet’s arms. “Let her never forget I loved her.”

“What about you?” Jay asked.

“I must find Blaise.”

“I’m going with you,” Kelly piped up.

Bat’tam cleared his throat. “I have a rather tenuous claim to the heirship of House Vayawand. This seems like a good time to present it. So carry on without me.”

“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but inside that masonry pile people are shooting at each other,” Jay said “I don’t think it’s a real good time to launch a political campaign.” Bat’tam just shrugged apologetically. “Why do you all want to be a bunch of heroes?” Jay concluded on a whine.

“Injured as you are, there is nothing you can do, Jay. Go!” Tis ordered.

Jay hesitated for an instant longer, then Hastet grabbed his arm and dragged him up the ramp. The lock cycled shut and the ship shot skyward.

Jay tottered onto a bench. “Aw, hell,” he burst out suddenly. “They’re all gonna get killed, and we’ll get stuck with the kid.”

There was an air of arrogant insouciance to the wide-open door that rather appealed to Zabb. However insane he might be, Blaise possessed virtu to an extraordinary degree. Single-handedly he had warped the face of Takisian society. Tisianne believed forever; Zabb was hopeful such was not the case.

Then it struck Zabb: the door was an enticement, a spider’s lure, and the trap set for Tisianne. Well, he’s in for a surprise, he thought with satisfaction. Zabb had been surprised at the ease with which he deflected Tis from her pursuit of Blaise, but biology had worked to Zabb’s advantage. The lure of Illyana was too great. And realistically Tis couldn’t stand against Blaise. Zabb believed he could.

Nothing could quell Zabb’s hatred of the man who waited beyond that threshold. Twice Zabb had held his cousin as she slept her unquiet sleep, and read in her dreams the horrors that Blaise had visited upon her. Now the monster was going to pay.

Zabb stepped through the door.

Blaise turned, and the dark purple eyes widened briefly in surprise. He lunged for the archaic Earth weapon that rested on the desk. Zabb lashed out with his mentatic power – felt it strike, hold briefly, then slip, under the onslaught of Blaise’s own mental strength. It had been enough to get Zabb across the room, his hand gripping Blaise’s wrist. Killing Blaise would have been easy. Capturing him another matter. Blaise was battering not only at Zabb’s body, but at his mind. The Takisian had no strength for a counterattack; every bit of his mentatic power was given over to defense.

Blaise’s breath puffed hot in Zabb’s face. Their minds were knotted, everything that either one had ever done or known was shared. Tisianne lay between them. Memories of love and memories of rape coiled and shattered against each other.

Blaise’s lips skinned back in a grimacing smile. “Didn’t I teach her great for you?” he whispered.

Rage exploded in Zabb, and for an instant his concentration broke. Blaise was in his mind. Desperately Zabb threw up a death lock and forced the abomination back out. Blaise would have to kill him to pierce these shields, and the fight on the physical plane was going to end far earlier than their mentatic duel.

Grimly, the silence punctuated only by their harsh gasps, they fought for control of the gun.

An eerie silence had settled across the House.

Kelly and Tis had tried Blaise’s private quarters and found only the naked body of a murdered La’b sprawled in the blood-soaked bed. The long, curly red wig askew over her eyes left both of them a little queasy.

Their footsteps rang off the marble walls. Almost to the door, and they heard the boom of a gun being fired and wood splintering. A yell of pain. Tis grabbed the jamb for support and spun around the corner and through the door.

Blaise and Zabb were locked in a bizarre waltz of death, grappling between them a.44 Magnum. Blood was pouring from an ugly, ragged hole in Zabb’s thigh. If the round had struck bone, it would have shattered it. That he was still on his feet was a testament either to his reflexes or to Blaise’s lack of marksmanship.

Back and forth they staggered, the barrel of the gun angling first one direction, then the other. Tis was bringing up her rifle when, with a grunt of effort, Zabb bent Blaise’s wrist almost backward and squeezed. With an earsplitting explosion of sound, blood and brains exploded out the back of Blaise’s skull. In his forehead gaped a round black hole.

Kelly’s shrill screams ripped through air still echoing with the aftermath of the gun’s blast. Zabb dropped Blaise’s body. Tis fell on it in a bizarre parody of grief. Gripping the corpse by the shoulders, she shook it, beating the shattered head on the floor.

“No! You can’t die! You can’t die! You can’t die!” Kelly knelt at her side, gathered the weeping Takisian into his arms. His tears were hot against her neck. Tis stared up at Zabb with a Medusa’s face. “You betrayed me,” she said softly, but each word was edged with ground glass.

“I had no choice.”

There was a telepathic call like a clarion bell. Council summons. All their minds were filled with an offer to negotiate with the Ajayiz of House Vayawand.

“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.”