“I’ll do my best.” The room was filling up. More people in uniform, probably the crew of the Trakis Four. And maybe the Trakis Five, the ship that had collected them all from their new planets and brought them here.
Kinross was across the room, deep in conversation with a man in a yellow shirt. Off to the side, a woman was watching them. He looked closer and recognized her from that morning, the scientific officer. He glanced around the room but failed to see the blonde anywhere. She hadn’t been in uniform, though, so maybe she didn’t get an invite.
He nodded to Dylan, then slipped out of the room and back into the front hallway. There was no one in sight, but he didn’t want to linger. At one end of the hall, a staircase led upward, and a number of doors exited off the hallway. He tried the closest, and it opened to his touch but led into an empty room. So did the next. The third door he tried was locked. He whispered a spell and the lock clicked open. Without his wand, his magic was limited to simple tricks and glamors, but still sufficient to unlock a door. It opened into a stairwell that led downward, underground.
If Kinross was going to hide any deep dark secrets, or any weapons, underground sounded like an excellent hiding place.
The staircase was narrow, and at the bottom another door led into a corridor, lit with a dull orange glow.
Had they dug the tunnels as they built? He didn’t think so. While the walls were smooth, excavated out of the ocher rock, the place didn’t feel as though it had been dug only days ago, but rather, as though it had existed for a long time. Maybe that was why Kinross had built here.
Up ahead, he heard voices and he went still. He turned, but there were voices behind him as well. Looking around, he could see nowhere to hide. He hurried on, the voices getting louder, until he came to a metal door with a grill. He pushed, but it was locked, and he repeated his spell and slipped into the room.
And came to an abrupt halt.
He wasn’t alone.
Chapter Seven
“I was delighted to see you again and forgot for the moment that all happiness is fleeting.”
—Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo
Destiny lay curled up on the bed. She didn’t know how much time had passed. Left alone, she’d explored the confines of her new home, which had taken all of thirty seconds. It consisted of this small room and an even smaller bathroom. No shower, just a toilet and a sink.
She was a prisoner. Locked in a cell. But she hadn’t done anything wrong.
For a brief moment, rage had woken inside her and risen to the surface. She’d thrown back her head and screamed. It made no difference, though. If anyone had heard, they’d ignored her.
Now the anger had faded and despair tugged at her mind. She tried to banish it. Things were what they were; you had to accept and make the most of them. There was a good reason she was here. It was for her own protection.
I am important.
But that brief interlude in the sunlight had changed everything.
If only she understood things better, then she might find her circumstances easier to accept. Dr. Yang had always said that she wanted to know too much. That she didn’t need to know everything. She should just accept the way things are.
She squeezed her eyes shut. In her mind she saw the bird flying high. Free. Then she saw the man from the shuttle. His silver eyes staring into hers. She had a flashback to the way he had made her feel. Strange and tingly and as though she might burst into a thousand pieces.
She wanted a chance to explore the feelings growing inside herself. She wasn’t naive enough to believe in love at first sight. But she’d felt so alive.
A grating sound at the door made her bolt upright on the bed, her eyes opening.
And there he was. In the dim orange light, he was unmistakable. She stared. Had her brain somehow conjured him up? Was this just her imagination playing tricks with her? She pressed her fingers to her eyes, but he was still there when she opened them again.
He raised a finger to his lips.
Even in her limited experience, she knew what that meant. He wanted her to be quiet, and she clamped her mouth closed on the questions that tried to tumble out. Then he stepped to the side of the door and pressed himself back against the wall.
Now that the immediate shock had faded, she could hear footsteps approaching, boots thudding against the hard floor outside her cell. Lots of boots. Her gaze flashed from the man, to the door, and then back to him. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak.
Why didn’t he want whoever was approaching to know he was there?
Who was he?
Was he dangerous, or was he the one in danger?
And how had he gotten through the locked door?
A face appeared at the grill; eyes stared into the room, but whoever it was said nothing. She looked back and stayed silent. The face vanished, but more footsteps passed. Her gaze darted around the room, always coming back to the man. Dr. Yang had told her she was here for her own protection. Did this man mean her harm? But if so, he didn’t appear to be in any hurry.
“Can you look?” he said. “Tell me what you see?” The words were quietly spoken but still she jumped. Then she got to her feet and crossed the room, peered out between the bars.
“There are men carrying boxes.” As she watched, one of them came back in the opposite direction. He wasn’t carrying anything. “And they’re returning without them.”
“What sort of men?”
She glanced at him. “Are there different sorts?”
He shook his head then paused for a second. “What are they wearing?”
“Dark green jumpsuits.”
“Are they armed?”
She put her face to the grill and studied one of the passing men. “They have pistols in holsters at their waists. But I can’t tell what kind.”
“Okay. Well, I guess you’ve got company until they finish hiding whatever it is they’re hiding down here. We might as well get comfortable.”
He sank to the floor and sat with his back against the wall and his legs stretched out in front of him. She realized he couldn’t be seen down there if anyone looked in through the door.
“You don’t want them to know you’re here?”
“Hell, no.”
“You speak strangely,” she said.
He grinned and something inside her warmed. “I’ve made worse first impressions, so I’ll take it.” He pulled a metal flask from inside his jacket, unscrewed the top, and held it out to her.
She looked at it distrustfully. Her diet had always been carefully monitored, but now she had the sudden urge to break the rules. Just little ones. She edged closer and took the flask. Their fingers touched and she almost leaped back. But she held her ground, brought the flask to her lips, and took a gulp. Fire filled her mouth, burning down her throat. She choked, squeezed her eyes shut, waited for the pain to stop.