Saga of the Skolian Empire 10 - Schism by Asaro Catherine

Author:Asaro, Catherine [Asaro, Catherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi, azw3
Tags: Science Fiction, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780765348371
Goodreads: 593851
Publisher: Tor Science Fiction
Published: 2004-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

Eldrinson floated in a drugged sea. He never lost conscious-ness, but he drifted in and out of awareness. The pain had re-ceded. The hot beverage these strangers gave him to drink hazed his mind and dulled the worst of his agony.

After many hours, or perhaps only a moment, he became aware of someone nearby.

He struggled to focus. A man was speaking, softly, brokenly, tears in his voice.

"... don't die," he pleaded. "Please. You must live. I beg you." His voice broke. "I couldn't bear it if you died."

Eldrinson tried to speak, but no words came. He wet his lips and tried again.

"Shannon?" It was barely a whisper.

"We're bringing help." Shannon's words were ragged and earnest. "Tarlin went for Mother. Help will come."

Eldrinson knew it was too late. His life was slipping away. He was too tired.

But somehow, incredibly, he had achieved his goal. He had kept his secret from Vitarex long enough to stop the Aristo from taking him off Lyshriol.

A hand touched Eldrinson's forehead, a hinged palm cool against his fevered skin. "Father, can you hear me?"

"I hear," Eldrinson whispered. "I am—glad you are here." He paused, gathering his energy. "I don't want your mother to see me—see me like this.

To see ... my death."

"You won't die." Shannon brushed back his hair.

"Can't see...."

"We'll fix it," Shannon whispered. "We'll make you better."

Urgent voices came from outside and the scrape of booted feet. Eldrinson's sensitized mind reacted to nuances his ears couldn't yet discern. "No! She must not—see me—"

"Who, Father?" Shannon asked.

The voices resolved into Skolian Flag, a tongue flat and harsh after Shannon's Trillian. Then a woman spoke in Tril-lian, almost chiming, though she had never learned to make the true sounds. Didn't have the right vocal cords ...

"They're here!" Shannon's boots crackled as he jumped to his feet.

Eldrinson reached out to stop him, but Shannon's footsteps were already receding across the tent. Rustles came from the entrance, men the scuff of feet and someone's abrupt intake

of breath. The sharp odor of the oil Brad used in the flyer cut through the air. Currents moved across his face as people knelt around him, creaking, scraping, clinking.

"Eldri?" A soft palm cupped his cheek. Tears filled her voice. "Eldri, can you hear me?"

He pulled his head away. "Roca, leave me."

"I can't." She was crying now. Her hair brushed his arms, his hands, his face, its clean fragrance painful in a way that no medicine could help. She pressed her lips against his forehead and he wanted to weep with the bittersweet agony of knowing he could never again be the man she had fallen in love with.

Other people were doing things, placing cool strips on his neck, moving blankets from his body, no doubt examining him with marvels of medical technology he couldn't see. A syringe hissed against his neck. He felt Roca's anguish and it tore him apart. Someday their children could be the ones lying broken and tortured, victims of the Traders, and he couldn't stop it from

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