"And she hasn't tried to free herself?"
"I have no idea, but consider her problem. She has a husband and daughter at risk, plus every subject in the kingdom. Rather a large number of hostages for her good behavior, wouldn't you say?"
"Mallik," Tal muttered. "I still think like a Fleet captain, don't I?"
Kass offered a wry smile. "Not always," she assured him.
"So what kind of person is this Mondragon if he escaped and left all those people behind?"
"A wise man. An asset of infinite potential."
"A wise man who practices peace?" Tal mocked. "What good will he be?"
"Ah," Kass exclaimed, "I have given you the wrong impression. I never said the Sorcerer Prime was benign. Only the ParaPrime."
"So?"
"The Sorcerer Prime is always chosen from among Psyclid's oldest families, those with their origins obscured by time. The Sorcerer Prime is supposed to be benign, but it is also his duty to learn all the old arts of so-called black magic as well, for how else can he deal with evil if he does not understand the ancient skills?"
"You're telling me there are evil Psyclids?" Tal said with a perfectly bland face. "I thought you people were perfect. Weird, but perfect."
"Do not tease," Kass snapped. "You know quite well there is always evil. And we rely on our Sorcerer Prime to keep it under control."
Tal gulped his ullali in one long swallow, thumped the glass down onto the table. "And this sorcerer of yours does that by tossing around a little black magic whenever he feels like it."
"Whenever it's necessary," Kass countered sternly.
"Mondragon's going to turn Regulon fighters into slimeworms, Fleet ships into grizzoids?"
"Don't be absurd. It doesn't work that way. Believe me, it's not that easy."
"But Mondragon practices black magic, and you're going to marry him."
"I am not."
"You told me-"
"I told you we were betrothed. I did not say I was going to marry him."
"Just have a child with him."
Kass sat back in her chair, crossed her arms, and scowled. "Jagan Mondragon is part of my life, but I never said he didn't terrify me as much as everyone else. Which is why I'm determined never to go to his bed. Both for myself and for what might result." Kass gulped a breath and continued. "That does not, however, keep me from recognizing that he is Psyclid's strongest hidden asset. I promise you, Jagan's talents, combined with K'kadi's and mine, will be the greatest weapons the rebellion can possibly have."
"And how do we know he's willing to join the rebellion?" Tal asked after several moments of silence.
"If he's reluctant . . . then I must be bait."
Chapter 18
How did she do it, Tal wondered, this fragile-appearing female who didn't quite reach his shoulder? From the first time he'd watched her in mock battle, handling Tac as if she'd been born to it, she'd had the confidence, the pride-yes, call it arrogance-to face him one on one. He'd seen her struggle a time or two with attempts to play the lowly ensign, but her humble mode never lasted long. His little Psyclid considered herself the equal, if not a wee bit better, than Tal Rigel, son of Fleet Admiral Vander Rigel, and descendant of a long and distinguished line of powerful Regulons on both sides of his family.
Which meant . . . All we Psyclids have left is our dignity . . . and perhaps a secret or two. Which suggested one of Kass Kiolani's secrets was that she was as well-born and privileged as himself. Or was she being considered for the next-what was the name-something-prime? ParaPrime, that was it. Second only to the queen. That, and his being damned as a Regulon, would account for why she occasionally looked at him like the emperor to a lackey.
And then there was the problem that Kass was gifted with strange powers, and he was not. An off-putting thought for a man taking a woman on their first actual date. And determined not to repeat the fiasco of their night on Tat.
At the end of their meeting on the engineering deck that afternoon, Tal had ventured his luck and invited Kass to dine with him in X-33's only pretense to luxury, the Aurora Dome on the space station's top deck. Kass, looking more than a little startled by his shift from a secret meeting in the bowels of the ship to openly displaying his preference for her company, had finally said yes. And without giving him any sass.
Maybe there was hope for them yet.
Now, here they were, seated under the canopy of a star-filled universe, a pristine white cloth, crystal stemware, genuine china plates, silver utensils, and a flickering candle spread out between them, their wine glasses filled with a vintage yrak from vines grown on the slopes of the far-distant Caroli system. And the ambiance was working.
Psyclids loved beauty and serenity, and Kass proved no exception. Tonight he'd not only surrounded her with the best the station had to offer, he'd put on Captain Kane's best, a black shirt and pants of the finest fabrics, augmented by a chain of pure gold and one golden earring. And Kass? She took his breath away. Until now, the closest he'd come to seeing her dressed up was the outfit she'd worn on the day of her interrogation, what he thought of as The Day of the Snake. Tonight, she wore a flowing calf-length gown the color of the midnight sky. What appeared to be real diamonds glinted around her neck and in her ears. And where did Kass Kiolani acquire diamonds? Or such a stylish gown so far from home? Forever a mystery, his little Psyclid.
But the only thing that mattered was that her natural arrogance, as well as her stiff-necked wariness, was melting before his eyes, turning her into as delectable a morsel as any man was ever privileged to see. How had she ever thought she could be a warrior . . .
Tal poured more wine into Kass's glass. She peeped at him from under her long black lashes, amber eyes teasing. Trying to get me drunk, Captain?
Tal almost dropped the bottle. He'd heard the words loud and clear, but her lips never moved. "Don't do that!" Oh, fyd, he hadn't really said that out loud. Just when he was making a little progress.
Kass was looking at him as if he'd just turned into a krall. "Don't do what?" she inquired slowly, as if humoring a mad man.
"I beg your pardon, I thought you said something."
"And just what do you think I said?"
Tal waved a hand, attempting to brush their exchange away. "It must have been the look in your eyes . . . I conjured words you never said. My apologies. Let's forget it, shall we?
Her face solemn, Kass leaned forward, projecting her whisper across the table. "Tell me the exact words, I need to know."
Puzzled, Tal stared at her a moment. Just when he'd managed a small step toward renewing her approval, another bone of contention cropped up. Mallick! He really didn't need this. "It was all in my head, Kass. Probably a guilty conscience. I thought you said, ‘Trying to get me drunk, Captain?' Kass . . . ?" She was just sitting there, gazing at her empty soup bowl.
Their server arrived, deftly replacing their soup bowls with the Aurora Dome's specialty of the day, grilled steri filet, fresh from the green pastures of Pollux Four. Kass didn't seem to notice.
Fine. Over the last few years, he'd forced himself to learn patience. Even if their dinner grew cold, he would wait until Kass was ready to move forward.
"Compared to many on Psyclid," she said at last, "I am a mediocre empath at best and even less skilled at telepathy. With considerable effort and practice, I reached the point where I could exchange thoughts with those with skill much greater than mine. But at no time should I be strong enough to be heard by someone of middling talent or less, and most particularly not by someone with no empathic or telepathic skills at all."
"Like a Reg captain."
"Yes." Kass pursed her lips, fingered her wine glass. "But the truth is . . . what you heard is exactly what I thought. You may be right," she added hastily. "Getting me drunk was exactly what you were trying to do, so you correctly interpreted the gleam in my eye, but . . . there's another explanation."
"Which is . . . ?"
Kass suddenly straightened up, offering him a brilliant smile. "I'll save that for later. At the moment, I believe our food is getting cold."
Tal wasn't sure which he wanted more-to make love to her or wring her scrawny Psyclid neck. But before them was the best meal they'd had since leaving Blue Moon. And if he was going to make any headway with Kass Kiolani, he was going to have to play her game. As S'sorrokan, he'd had to learn deception. And this was just a more benign aspect of it. He'd let Kass win all the way to the bedroom . . . and then it was his turn.
Kass floated out of the Aurora Dome, leaning into Tal's strong length as the lift plunged them back to midstation and its ring of docking bays. Soulmates. Impossible, but true. The euphoria of discovering her fantasies come to life, augmented by the wine bubbling in her veins, threatened to overwhelm her. How to explain to Tal that on Psyclid soulmates could communicate telepathically, even if their skill levels were low?