Nik
Something broke in me when Delphie put her arms around me. I could pretend that her massage, however pleasurable, was the touch of a healer, but her spontaneous embrace did something irrevocable to me. For one, it made my cock permanently hard. It’s plaguing me with every step. But that single, generous gesture also made me realize the yawning sacrifice I’ll make when I send her away.
I’ll never know what it’s like to be loved that way. With wholehearted abandon. With joy.
She laughed at my lack of experience with females, but why would I seek them, knowing they cannot compare to the one who’s destined for me? And when Delphie leaves, she’ll take that chance with her. It willhurtnever knowing how to please her. Never having the chance to try. I have a matter of days with her and there’s no point denying myself an attempt.
A small, shameful part of me wants her to remember me forever, too. But not as a fumbling novice. I want her to remember my skill. I want no one else to compare. I want her memory of me to be one she treasures, one that shines so bright, it leaves the discomfort and danger of my planet, the displeasure of my company, and even the pain of her abduction in shadow.
She seems shocked by my suggestion, though. Perhaps she finds the thought of enduring my touch distasteful. If that is thecase, it will be even easier to let her go. Whether she accepts me or rejects me, only good will come of it. I can see no fault in my plan.
Usuri is still in upheaval from the explosion, which distracts me from some of my obsessive thoughts. I should not have slept so long. Power has been fully restored. Some passageways have been cleared, but not much else has been accomplished while I slept. The healers are exhausted, so after they put the most critical patients on the medical transport, I send them to rest.
Then I prepare as much food as I can for the injured who did not qualify for transport, the ones with wounds that will heal quickly with basic care. I send an apprentice with a tray of firstmeal for Aqen and Delphie, and the rest I distribute in the pits. In normal circumstances, warriors prepare their own food and eat alone, but these are not normal circumstances.
The teams clearing and repairing the miner’s quarters are making progress, so I work with the head miner to determine what caused the explosion. He shows me where a crack formed due to the latest eruption, which allowed condensation to seep into the epylium stores. It didn’t take much for a dangerous level of moisture to build up and ignite the volatile ore.
He assures me that it is a simple repair, and that the storage areas will be lined with a waterproof material to prevent it from happening in the future. We add more frequent checks to the maintenance schedule as well, with extra inspection after any seismic events.
Satisfied that the restoration and repairs are in progress, I finally have time to take some dried meat and tili wafers to the comm room to eat while I consult with Gemeri. When he greets me, I notice the fatigue on his face, too. He has slept very little in between coordinating the medical transports and contacting the families of the deceased.
“I wish I could tell you to take a break.”
“I’ll have enough time to rest when I’m dead.”
I find it hard to smile given the number of miners and warriors who were killed. “I must ask for your help.”
“Anything,” he says. “I warn you, I’m pretty useless at digging through rubble.”
I have to chuckle. Gemeri is the oldest Irran I know. Assigning him to a work crew would never cross my mind. “Luckily, I need your mind, not your muscle. The miners work hard, and the apprentices are strong, but they are young. When they have a problem, they rush headlong to solve it. I need someone with wisdom and caution to solve this.”
“What is the trouble?”
I side beside him at the comm station and pass him a tili wafer. “What do you think the priests of the Eye want? What is their goal.”
“They want what all males want,” Gemeri says, nibbling the edge of the pale green, herbal disc before popping the whole thing in his mouth. He speaks around it. “The female they can’t have.”
I nearly choke on my own wafer. His answer is a little too close to home, but I don’t understand it. The priests of the Eye are celibate. Then again, I am, too. “What do you mean?”
He finishes chewing. “I mean the goddess, of course. They are doing what they can to be close to her. To honor her.”
“You think they’re all so pure in their intentions? Is the High Priest really acting on behalf of Alioth?”
He scoffs, reaching for another of my wafers. “No, of course he’s not. Manyare. But Zomah has never been good for the Eye. I’ve watched him rise up through the ranks by stepping on those weaker, more willing to bend their ideals. He tempts them, exposes them, and crushes them. It has been very effective, although for some reason, his techniques haven’t worked so wellon the sons of Chanísh, despite his most ruthless efforts. I think you know why. ”
My food suddenly tastes foul, so I hand him the whole bowl. “Because my father was even more ruthless and shaped us in his image?”
“No. Well, yes, all that is true. But I meant because the goddess favors you. She sees all, and she smiles on you. She brought you queens all the way from another star system to support your rule.”
“Some of us,” I mutter. Lyro has no planet, so he’ll never have a queen. And I must keep up the farce that I have not found mine. But Gemeri gives me a knowing look and steals another of my wafers. The old man is wise and says nothing about Delphie, even if he suspects. “I think Zomah is holding some females hostage on the Eye, and I want to negotiate for their release. What do you think I should use to bargain?”
The old scholar hums contemplatively. “He is clever. He will have realized by now that the goddess has made her position clear. The sons of Chanísh will rule the Five Planets with her blessing. Now he can only hope to claw back some measure of political status. Some acceptance, a foothold. The priests cannot live on the space station forever, not without the support of a Jara. Someone to advocate for them in the council of kings. That is what the High Priest wants, a Jara in his pocket.”
That’s what Zomah wants from Lyro, I realize. He needs one of the sons of Chanísh to be his champion. He may let Lyro go if I volunteer for the distasteful role in exchange for my father’s concubines. I should be a worthy substitute. I have a lifetime of practice being a puppet and loyally serving a leader who I dislike and distrust. And I have more sway with Lothan than Lyro does, which should be tempting to the High Priest. Plus, I have a planet.
“Thank you for your counsel. Go sleep now, old scholar. Tomorrow we will honor the dead, but you will not be one of them.”
He passes me the empty bowl and pats me on the shoulder as he passes. “May Alioth smile on you.”
