Tal threw her reader card onto her desk with a curse. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on a damned thing since hantick nine, and wondered why she’d even bothered coming to her office. All she could think about was Lhyn in the temple, walking into a trap she’d never suspect, because why would the innocent suspect anything?
And now it was past time for midmeal. They’d been together for more than two hanticks. Great Goddess, surely it couldn’t take this long! What was Lanaril doing to her? Had she overstepped? Had something gone wrong? What if the Gaian brain reacted badly?
“Shek,” she whispered, dropping her head into her hands. “Shek, shek, shek. It should have been me. I shouldn’t have let her do it.” And she should have had a healer nearby. No, two healers, one for the body and one for the mind. She hadn’t thought this through to all of the possible outcomes and prepared for them. She hadn’t handled this the way she handled every critical strategy, and why not? Because she couldn’t bear to think about it.
“Fahla, don’t let her pay the price for that,” she murmured. “Please.”
Unable to sit any longer, she pushed her chair back and paced in front of the wall of glass that looked toward the temple—the glass that had just been replaced yesterday, courtesy of the captain whose tyree she had sent into an ambush. If ever there was a time to start drinking spirits before evenmeal, this was it.
When her vidcom chimed, she spun in place and raced across the room. Standing in front of the screen on wobbly legs, she took a moment to confirm the ID and activated the com.
“Is she all right?” she demanded.
Lanaril looked at her in surprise before her face softened in understanding. “Yes, she’s fine. There were no issues with the Sharing. It’s harder than Sharing with an Alsean—much harder—but it doesn’t seem to have any adverse effects. I’m sorry about calling so late, but she just left. We talked for a long time after our Sharing.”
Thank you, Fahla, she thought. “And it’s done? You didn’t have any problems with the empathic force?”
Lanaril shook her head. “No, no problems…because I didn’t use empathic force.”
“You what? What were you thinking?”
“Andira—”
“Don’t call me that, you’ve lost the right! All that effort to convince me to let you do it and then you just—shekking Mother! Do you know what you’ve done?”
“Lancer Tal!”
“What!” She was shaking with rage, her fists clenched and her mind racing. She was going to have to do it herself, and how could it even be done now when Lhyn had already had one Sharing? Where would she find the excuse? Great Mother, she might actually have to use physical force; she was going to be sick—
“Calm down! I didn’t do it because I didn’t have to!”
Tal stopped breathing. “What?”
“I didn’t have to,” Lanaril said in a lower tone. “She already made the decision.”
“She—wait. What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that all of your worrying, and all of mine—because you were right, it would have been a terrible betrayal—it was all for nothing. She’s made up her own mind.”
“But they’re tyrees.”
“I know. But they don’t. Regardless, she made herself very clear both in the Sharing and out of it.”
“Oh, Fahla.” Tal reached blindly for the chair and dropped into it. “And you don’t think she’ll change her mind?”
“Have you felt the strength of her convictions?”
“Yes, but I’ve only known her for three days. How do we know she won’t feel just as convinced the other way three days from now?”
“You’re trying to turn good news into bad, aren’t you?”
“I just…” Tal sighed and rubbed her face. “I can’t take anything for granted. We have to be sure.”
“Do you know what makes me sure? You.”
Frowning, Tal waited for her to explain.
“She admires you tremendously. I can hardly credit how strongly she feels about you on such short acquaintance, but then again, she’s studied you for over seven moons. And you did project your emotions onto her within ten hanticks of meeting her, which seems to have pushed her onto a whole different level. She sees you as representative of Alsea, which of course you are.”
“As a politician, yes, but—”
“No, not as a politician. You are Alsea to her. Think about it. She’s been betrayed twice. What happens to people when they’re betrayed? They look for something solid, something they can believe in. She believes in you.”
“Wonderful. Now I feel worse than ever.”
“Stop it. Fahla just handed you a gift and you’re looking for every excuse not to take it. Untie that knot in your chest and accept that sometimes things happen the way they need to.”
Tal took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “All right. I’ll accept it if you can tell me one thing. Why would Lhyn Rivers believe in me and not her own tyree?”
“Because she knows that you and she share the same motivation, except yours is much stronger. Her tyree’s motivation is…different.”
Tal thought about that from all sides before nodding. “That does make sense. And it’s a wonderful gift, but…it’s hard to accept it with any joy when I know what it means for Captain Serrado.”
“Perhaps they’ll surprise us and no one will be hurt.”
Tal knew better. She’d known better the moment she hatched this plan. “Captain Serrado will pay a price no matter which choice she makes.”
“You cannot take on every burden, Lancer Tal. Not even your shoulders are that broad.”
“No. You’re right.” Then she realized what Lanaril had said and shook her head. “Except for one thing. Call me Andira.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure I’d like you to forget the first part of this conversation. Especially the profanity.”
“How odd; I didn’t hear that part.”
“Thank you.”
They spoke for some time, with Tal wanting every detail of the Sharing and their conversation afterward. When they signed off, she walked across the room to her sideboard and popped the stopper on a new bottle of spirits. The blue mist trickled down the neck and over her hand, a cool sensation that she’d loved ever since her father had first shown her how to open a bottle. Pouring a glass, she took it to the window, raised it in the direction of the temple, and said, “Here’s to motivations.”