Chapter 21

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Maralt held Loren, an arm twisted behind her back, the mechanical blade at her throat, telling Dynan there was nothing he could do to save her. Each step he took toward her brought her closer to death. Loren struggled against Maralt, fearfully looking behind the throne into the shadows by the dais. When Dynan looked, he could never see what so terrified her. Before he was allowed to look long, his mind was wrenched back to her, forced to watch. Every time, he couldn’t get to her. He couldn’t reach her. He couldn’t stop the knife from piercing her skin. He always turned back too slowly, only able to catch her limp body, looking into blank, lifeless eyes.

Dynan stood at the window wall, looking out into the strings of light that streamed by the XR-9. One day from entering the Cobalt System boundary, he thought, swallowing down a wave of nauseating fear. The same recurring vision blinded his sight. He shuddered, closing his eyes against the blackness, turning from it. The closer they drew to Cobalt the more difficult it was to keep the dream out of his mind. Every time he thought about her, no matter how briefly, he saw her dying. It was Carryn’s vision. The beginning of the end of his life.

He wasn’t able to sleep un-medicated. It wore off too quickly and there was a limit to the dosage amount. The moment his subconscious gained any freedom, the horrible images that he fought off during the waking day came in and filled his dreams.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the window. When he looked again, reflected in the cool acrylon, he saw Marc watching him. He’d come from the arbor, though Dynan hadn’t heard the door open. He felt the same irrational anger flare, unable to stop it.

“How long have you been standing there?” he asked.

“I’m not. I was only making my way to the stairs.” Marc moved with a slight stiffness to the stair, holding the rail with two hands as he went down.

Dynan watched a moment, weariness overcoming anger as he looked back out the window. He was tired of thinking about why Marc’s presence irritated him so much. Dynan didn’t think he should have come, since he was still so weak from the attack. Marc’s supposition, that he was tactically necessary to show Maralt how his plans were failing, wasn’t convincing. At the same time, an inner voice whispered maybe he was right. Maybe Maralt’s failure to kill Marc would somehow change the terrible outcome. In the vision, Dynan never saw Marc in the Throne Room. The idea, and Carryn agreed, was that they needed to try and alter as many details of the vision as they could. They had to make sure that Ralion and Sheed were there. They had to make sure that Carryn was there. Marc intended to be there. Maybe he was right. Of course, none of that helped ease the fact that Dynan could hardly stand to be around him.

A loud series of thumps interrupted those thoughts and Dynan frowned.

“Marc?”

He waited for a reply, but didn’t get one. His frown deepened as he moved to the top of the stair. He was startled to see Marc lying in a heap at the first landing and hurried down to kneel beside him. Dynan checked his pulse, fear confusing him even more. He found his heartbeat only slightly erratic and fast, shivering at Marc’s open and sightless eyes. Dynan activated his transmitter. “Carryn, could you have Geneal come up here?”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Marc. He’s unconscious.”

“We’re on our way.”

Just as Carryn broke the contact, Marc stirred and moaned.

“Take it easy,” Dynan said when he tried to rise. Marc’s response was another moan.

“Not again,” he muttered, rolling over to his knees.

“Again?” Dynan asked. “This has happened before?”

Marc blinked, a flash of anger crossing his face. He pushed himself up, passing a hand over his eyes. “Yes,” he said. “Once or twice, and if you want to know, it started happening after we left Trea.”

“That settles it then. You can’t go down to the planet.”

“It might be settled for you, Dynan, but it isn’t for me.” He reached up, holding the banister rail and pulled himself to his feet. “I’ll be fine.”

Dynan stood with him. “Did it ever occur to you that you’ll be more of a danger to those around you than to yourself? Who can count on you? Suppose you have one of these fainting spells when you’re guarding someone’s back? What then?”

“If you don’t think you can count on me, don’t,” Marc snapped back, taking a step down. “I’m going with you.” He turned and continued down the stairs, both hands on the rail.

“Not if I don’t want you to.”

Marc stared up at him in disbelief. “Then you’ll have to put me in a cell to stop me, Your Highness.”

Dynan turned from him, muttering under his breath that a cell could be arranged.

He went back to the window, listening while Marc stumped down the stairs. On one level, Dynan was aware that it didn’t make sense the way he was treating him. He knew it, but couldn’t stop the flash of annoyance.

He tried thinking of anything else – the subjects were dwindling to hardly a few that would keep him occupied. He went over the plan to land at Beren first instead of trying to land anywhere near Rianamar. They would be set on too quickly if they tried going through the city. Beren seemed like a logical choice. There was a comterm at the mansion. Allie could break into it and attempt to get the information they needed. They decided, even if they got that access, to send Gaden into Rianamar to get what information he could and bring it back to them before their attack. Of all of them, Gaden had changed the most, having been only fourteen when he left. He was the least well-known and had the best chance of finding someone he knew who he might be able to trust. Carryn thought Gaden was ready for the mission. It was a risk, sending him where the outcome might end in Gaden dying.

Dynan was numb to the idea of death, it had become so much a part of his existence. They could all be heading for it, but not one of them would let him go alone. The closer they traveled to Cobalt, the stronger the thought grew. He wanted to leave them all behind.

The hours went by. The day grew short. They drew nearer to Cobalt.