Yet how could he not know? Blast Vaden for instilling doubts! His version of Tal Rigel would embrace her, his sights set on ruling not only Psyclid but a new and better empire as well. Her Royal Highness L'ira Orlondami, suitable consort to the future ruler of the Nebulon Sector.
Kass winced. No! Tal would never . . . he had no imperial ambitions. He simply wanted the Empire gone.
Kass shoved back her chair and walked toward the couch, lost in thought. Tal said he wasn't political, but when he spoke to a crowd, he shone with a charisma that captured everyone present. What if Admiral Rigel was thinking of founding a new dynasty? Did he see himself replacing the Emperor? Or what if he was maneuvering-and financing-the rebellion not for himself but for his son?
Fizzet! Kass's knees gave way and she slumped onto the couch. She had no desire to be empress of anything. One day, in what she hoped would be the far distant future, she would be queen and ParaPrime, ruler of Psyclid's physical and psychic worlds. A great honor for which she had been well trained, and which she would accept when the time came. But at the moment she wanted nothing more than to fight for the rebellion and enjoy her freedom before taking up the responsibilities that would come only with the deaths of Ryal and Jalaine.
In her vague visions of the future, Tal Rigel had always been at her side-as consort. But, dear goddess, if his fate lay elsewhere . . .
A no-win situation, wasn't that what her tutors had called it? Kass pounded her fist on the sofa's padded arm. She should have seen it before. Her goals and Tal's were not the same. Hers stayed on Psyclid. His did not.
But Ryal and Jalaine would rule for many years yet. There was time . . .
Or not. They'd never discussed Tal's vision of the future. Victory seemed too far away. Unreal. But if Tal was the active arm of a secret cabal headed by Admiral Rigel, then the Empire's downfall could come much sooner than expected.
And she would be forced to choose.
Fool! Wait 'til you're asked. You slammed the man against a chest of drawers last night. You probably won't even make his concubine list, let alone have a chance at empress.
Which she didn't want anyway.
Dimi! She'd been daydreaming again. Faced with information she didn't like, she'd slipped back into a place where she couldn't distinguish between fantasy and reality. Not good. She was a better person than that.
With renewed energy, Kass bounced to her feet, went into her bedroom, and walked into the spacious closet. She'd wear one of her more dazzling dresses, touch up her facial enhancements, go to the meeting as L'ira . . .
No. She wouldn't. She wasn't ready for the look on Tal's face. Would it be horrified surprise? Or a sly? Welcome, Princess. Of course I've always known.
She would go to the meeting just as she was. In the old dark blue trousers, white pullover shirt, and the ugly clunky shoes she'd worn for her walk to the g'zebo. She'd stay Kass. And watch and wait, trying to fight her way through the puzzle of Tal Rigel.
No! Not a puzzle. Tal Rigel didn't do sly. Tal was S'sorrokan, rebel leader. Dedicated to bringing down the Empire.
Tal, her Tal. Lover of Kass Kiolani.
Ex-lover.
She could only hope it was going to be large meeting, where she could slink in and lose herself in the crowd . . .
It wasn't.
Chapter 32
She wasn't here yet. Tal scowled at the others gathered in the Green Salon, Regs at one end of the long table, Psyclids at the other. He drummed his fingers on the highly polished surface, and waited. He might have disgusted Kass last night, sent her running back to the tower, but he knew his woman. This was rebellion business and she would come. By keeping him waiting by-he glanced at his chrono-by three minutes, she was merely demonstrating her independence.
Or reminding him he was a drunken lout unworthy of her prompt response.
Mondragon, Tal noted, was wearing his customary smirk. With the intuition that had helped put him where he was, Tal had a good idea what the sorcerer was thinking. Mondragon was reveling in his role as Sorcerer Prime, probably silently taunting Tal. I know her better than you do, and I guarantee she's really pissed. And then there was the reason for this meeting, the Sorcerer Prime's assertion, I'm going back to Psyclid, whether you like it or not. And to ensure the triumph of his plans, Mondragon had brought backup, his sorcerer's apprentices, B'aela, D'nim and T'mar.
Tal's scowl deepened. Good thing he'd brought his own backup, Dorn and Mical seated to his right and left. And Kass? Where did she stand in all this?
If she ever got here.
The door swung open, and there she was, poised on the threshold, nose in the air, surveying the room with the faintly disgusted look of a Reg scenting a Nyx.
Her opinion of him? Very likely. Not that he could blame her, though he was the one with the bruises.
"I beg your pardon, Captain," she murmured as she slipped into the room and scurried to an empty seat next to Mondragon, tipping the adversarial scales-five Psyclids to three Regs. Kass, playing subservient? Kass, siding with Mondragon? Or blatantly refusing to stand with Tal Rigel?
Tal's temper flared. Until this moment he'd been suffering from abject remorse, but this was too much. One time, one lousy time, he'd drunk too much, and she was blowing it into an event of major proportions. He was the one with the grievance. She'd left him, just waltzed off to the Round Tower and left him flat. When she knew he needed her.
Actually, looking back . . . she'd tried to tell him about the secret passages, but he'd been so angry he wouldn't listen. And last night when she'd come to him, then disappeared as mysteriously as she'd popped up in his bed, she hadn't left the hidden door open by accident. Kass was never careless, even under stress. Therefore . . . she was pointing out just how unrealistic, heedless, and bull-headed he'd been. Pok, dimi, and fyd!
And now she'd arrayed herself with the Psyclids. Hopefully, a bit more punishment for his idiocy and not a political statement. He needed Kass's powers to balance Mondragon's dark determination to have his own way.
He needed Kass.
"Now that we're all here," Tal said with some emphasis, though Kass never looked up, "I'm going to let Mondragon explain why he asked for this meeting when we've barely had time to catch our breaths. Mondragon?"
Psyclid's Sorcerer Prime tossed a long strand of black hair out of his face. "It's quite simple, Captain. We wish to go home. Can you get us there?"
"We've had this conversation before. Why should I take such a risk? Why should you?" Tal swept a significant glance from Dorn and Mical to D'nim, T'mar, and B'aela, deliberately excluding Kass, who was absolutely, positively not going anywhere. "And most importantly, I did not go all the way to Bender's Folly to retrieve an alleged prime asset for the rebellion, only to sacrifice him on a suicide mission to Psyclid."
The Sorcerer Prime heaved an exaggerated sigh. "This too, I have explained."
"But not to everyone here."
Kass, her interest clearly caught, lifted her head and stared hard at Mondragon, whose challenging attitude suddenly dissolved into a simple shrug. "It is true I can be helpful in a fight-this I have shown. But taking back Psyclid is my goal, and should be yours as well. Come, Captain, picture it. Not just Blue Moon for a base, but an entire planet! What better way to put my talents to use?"
"He can do it," B'aela asserted.
"Truly he can." D'nim echoed her endorsement.
Tal crossed his arms. "Details, Mondragon. My officers are shaking their heads, as skeptical as I am."
"We can take back the planet if someone organizes the planet's psychic talents, and I am the obvious one to do it. I have the authority and the power. People will listen to me."
Tal felt, more than heard, Kass's gasp, though why she was shocked he had no idea.
Dorn snorted. "You ran all the way to Hell Nine to escape the invasion, and now you want to play hero? Come on, Mondragon, how are we supposed to swallow that?"
The Psyclid sorcerer sat tall in his chair, his black-clad shoulders rising well above the other three Psyclids at the table, his gold chain shining, the large cut crystal catching the light. "I ran from evil," he responded stiffly, "and I am sorry for it. It is time I make amends."
Tal let the silence stretch while he examined faces. Derision from Dorn and Mical. Fierce loyalty to Mondragon from his long-time companions. From Kass, the perfectly blank expression of someone who has no intention of revealing what she's thinking.
He had to admit Mondragon had a point. The rebellion would still have Kass and K'kadi as special assets. And if Mondragon could do what he said he could-harness Psyclid talents into a weapon that could drive the Regs off the whole planet . . .
And, let's face it, he wouldn't mind having the Sorcerer Prime gone from their tight little world. In fact, he had to be very careful he was approaching this problem as S'sorrokan, analyzing Mondragon's proposal from a military standpoint, and not with the thought of getting him as far away from Kass as possible.