Kol sat next to her, nodding. “But he hides it for another reason, as well. He hides it because to reveal what she has done would expose him to ridicule. The Skaar people might even go so far as to think him a fool. He cannot abide that, so he pushes the matter aside—at least for now. He might choose to exact retribution at a later date.”
She made an exasperated sound. “I will be the one to exact retribution long before he thinks to act. If I am to be sent home, I will have my chance. And what better way to spend my time?”
Kol’Dre gave her a look. “You might want to consider the possibility that your father has already thought of this. How fitting if his treacherous wife died at the hand of his troublesome daughter?”
Ajin shook her head dismissively. “He will do nothing. He has no intention of causing her harm while she remains young and eager to provide him with male heirs. I am simply another obstacle standing in his way—just like my mother.”
“There is another consideration, Ajin, one you might want to remember. He is afraid of you. Deep down, where he hides his darkest secrets, he sees what you have become in the eyes of his soldiers. He sees how they revere you. How short a step is it to go from princess to queen? He worries that you have become more popular than he is, and what that would mean for his future as king. Given enough of an excuse to do so, the Skaar might find a reason to throw him over and make you their new ruler.”
She shook her head slowly. “If he thinks I would embrace that future, then he doesn’t know me at all. I have never sought the throne. I have never given it a thought. I am content to be what I am—a commander of soldiers, an expert on the field of battle. I want nothing of what he has.”
“But he cannot be sure of that, can he?”
She considered a moment. “I suppose not. So much the worse for him, then. Such thinking exposes him as weak and cowardly, susceptible to fears that have no basis in fact.”
“It has ever been thus in the history of the world. Rulers rule because they hold power, and their one fear is that someone will take that power from them and reduce them to nothing. Your father is no different. His biggest failing lies in not recognizing loyalty when he sees it—especially in his own daughter. He should be grateful for all you have done and encourage you to continue your good work. I despair of what will happen here once you are gone. I do not think him the equal of Ketter Vause when it comes to negotiations.”
“Perhaps he believes that in battle, with the whole of the Skaar army behind him, he will crush the Federation and take the head of its Prime Minister as a souvenir with or without me.”
“But a battle of that sort would be costly to the Skaar, as well, and there are other forces waiting in the wings that he would then have to contend with. Far better if he can find a common ground with the Federation and form an alliance that will benefit both sides.”
Ajin rose, grabbing for her weapons and few personal belongings, which she stuffed into a large pack that she then slung across her shoulder. “You must do what you can to see this happens, Kol. I may not be with you in the flesh, but I will be with you in spirit. You are the cleverer of us, and if there is a way to turn my father’s mind toward the accommodation you so rightfully point out must happen, it will be up to you to find it. I will go back to our homeland because I must, but I will look for a way to return, as well. Somehow, I will find that way and seize it. It is here with you and the army that I belong, and I will not let my father sentence me to exile so easily.”
She embraced him, pulling him against her. She saw the shock in his eyes and laughed. “Haven’t held a woman close for a while? Miss the feel of that exquisite softness?” She pushed him away dismissively. “You are my best friend, my confidant, and my loyal Penetrator. Never forget that. We belong together.”
She knew he would like hearing those words—imagining them a declaration of something that quite possibly meant much more. But in her mind—as he considered again the deeper hopes he harbored for them—she saw the chiseled features and effortless movements of Darcon Leah and found herself flushed and wanting.
“Ajin,” Kol said, interrupting her momentary lapse, “I will work to find a way, too. Perhaps a chance will come to persuade your father to bring you back. Perhaps his anger toward you will diminish, and he will come to see again how much he depends on you.”
She nodded wordlessly, the flush fading, the memories of the Blade retreating into her mind as her current circumstances again pressed in on her. She adjusted the pack once more, smiled her most winning smile, and walked from the tent without another word, back into the bustling camp and the airship waiting with its crew and guards to convey her home.
FIVE
FROZEN IN PLACE FOR what seemed like endless moments, Shea tried to decide what to do. He could not imagine how anyone had found them out; there was no chance that anyone could have seen them inside the prison. Maybe the broken-down scrubber had been discovered.
Whatever the case, the horns were still wailing.
Seelah was climbing rapidly toward the open window of the prison cell, but how safe was it for the two of them to get back down with the brilliant dawn light now bathing the walls they must descend? If anyone working as a guard was paying even the slightest bit of attention, there was no way they could descend unseen. Perhaps he was expecting too much. Tindall was now safely down, and that was the job Shea had been sent to do.
On the other hand, he didn’t much care for his chances if he stayed where he was. What did it matter now if he was seen, with alarms sounding all about him?
Then he heard the sound of voices in the hallway somewhere down the corridor outside the cell, and a scuffling of feet accompanying a clanging of iron doors opening and closing. His decision made, he climbed through the window instantly and hung there in the frame, waiting for Seelah to reach him.
His throat tightened as the sounds drew nearer. Hurry! Hurry!
She was there within seconds, offering him her back. “There are guards coming!” he warned breathlessly.
She motioned for him to climb on and he did so swiftly, fastening his arms and legs about her lithe, strong body. Almost before he was in place, she was off at an even faster pace than she had set during Tindall’s escape, propelling herself backward down the rugged stone, claws gripping and scrabbling as they descended—so quickly that Shea closed his eyes so as not to become dizzy. The voices and noises of the men in the hallway disappeared behind them, and the wind became a rough-woven blanket that whipped about him and muffled all sounds. He felt himself dropping as if stripped of support. Clinging to his rescuer with a frantic intensity—her steely cat muscles rippling beneath him, her limbs moving in synchronized rhythm, an inhuman engine of terrible force—he still seemed to be tumbling away, the two of them bereft of any real support.