Chapter 33

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The autumnal air, cool and crystal fresh, was perfectly clear and immovable. The serene sky, a piercing blue inexpressible, had not even a trace of clouds. Only at the very horizon, which went somewhere frighteningly far to the city eye, it twitched a little white, merging with the boundless silver-white steppe.

Alex pulled in, the cool steppe air filled with the unfamiliar scents of dry grasses, and moved on. The short, silver-white stalks, more like thin paper tubes, scratched his trousers with a quiet rustle and crunched under the thin soles of his loafers. After taking a few steps, he stopped again, looking around.

The silver smoothness of the steppe was dusted with red dust. Among the withered stalks were small red flowers on thick green stalks. Their scarlet droplets, in the distance, merged into scarlet waves, frozen motionless in the boundless steppe.

Now I see why Cassard's colors are scarlet and white, Alex thought, gazing out at the horizon, blending in with the sky. His eyes tingled a little, unused to the distance. The steppe seemed endless, transparent, and empty.

The only object overlooking the silver canvas of the steppe was behind their backs. Khalis Castle was in the middle of the continent, far from the capital. And it was one of the 'country' castles on Cassard. It had been chosen as a residence, for the time of the Day of Gifts, for security reasons. Since the capital, Castle Istal also housed the Throne of Fire as well as the headquarters of the Municipality and the Office. It was simply impossible to evacuate everyone from there. There were also millions of tourists and pilgrims to the shrines. The Khalis was the only building for many hundreds of kilometers. Nor were there any tourists, and it was hard to believe fourteen billion people were living on this planet.

The truth is, they won't leave me alone here either, he mentally sighed as he continued to walk leisurely toward the destination of their journey. A dark red, wavering mirage, with a black orber circling around it.

The first morning on Cassard, after the Day of Gifts, began somewhat earlier and not as he would have liked. The scouts, in the company of a dozen retainers in civilian clothes, showed up in the full parade. They were eager to obtain the visas of Lord Cassard, as the highest court of justice, for a pile of various warrants for search, inquiry, and detention. Not the most pleasant activity, especially since he'd read them all. Probably shouldn't have, though. You won't see any familiar names here anyway.

"We'll stay here, Your Lordship," came the voice of his 'security specialist' from behind him. At his questioning glance, Taer shrugged and added, her lips curling slightly. "Lady Kayrin wanted a word with you, alone."

The Baroness, he was informed at the end of the bureaucratic battle, had arrived at Cassard at night. And chatting with her was certainly worthwhile. One could only wonder at the place chosen for the conversation. After the paperwork, though, it's a good idea.

Leaving the guards, led by Taer, behind him, Alex made his way the remaining hundred meters through the brittle undergrowth alone. As he approached, a blurred figure made some indistinct gesture, and the orber moved slightly to the side, engaging Alex in its orbit. The blurred veil fell, and Alex saw Kayrin.

The Baroness was dressed in the dark scarlet guardsman uniform of House Fyron, with a black leather shoulder strap that bore a scarlet griffin hoisted on its hoop. A broad black belt spanned the tunic and dangled from it the hilt of his sword and his blaster. Her long black hair was gathered into a ponytail in a dainty ring of dark matter. She was looking thoughtfully into the distance as she perched on a boulder at the edge of a very large but shallow depression. Filled with the same boulders, almost invisible because of the steppe grass. There was a pattern to their arrangement.

Some kind of weird rock garden, Alex decided as he stepped closer. The surface beneath his feet became unusually hard, and he looked down for a moment. What he first thought was a large flat rock turned out to be a long-frozen puddle of metal, slightly littered with dust.

He walked over to Kayrin, and it was clear that the "boulder" she was sitting on was actually the side of some machinery, almost completely sunk into the ground. Alex squinted, taking a closer look at the other 'boulders'. One of them, closer to the edge, protruded heavily from the grass, a dark molten lump of metal that reeked of something military. Apparently, the depression he had mistaken for a long-drained lake was, in fact, a crater from a massive explosion.

In the distance, there were several more of the same hollows.

"Is this the scene of the battle?" He asked to confirm his guess.

"Yes," Kayrin replied without turning around. "About a hundred and twenty years ago. Your great-grandfather didn't agree with his brother on the issue of kin supremacy. Your brother had the Planetary Forces and the Police on his side. As you can see, they almost made it. But the Orbital Forces backed your great-grandfather at the last moment. After his victory, he decided to leave everything here as it was. As a lesson." She waved her hand somewhere to the left. "There's a memorial stone further up."

"So that no more brother would go after his brother?" He asked, sitting down on the "boulder" as well. The boulder, instead of the expected cold pull of metal, was somehow "plastic" and warm.

"No, to remember..." She sighed, still staring into the distance. "That the power of kin is among the stars, not on earth."

The conversation is clearly going to be difficult, Alex mentally concluded, and tried to change the subject:

"A philosophical place. Beautiful, and thought-provoking."

A dreamy smile slid across the Baroness's lips: "It's a good place to think."

Alex was silent as if to suggest to Kayrin, to speak further.

"You know, I've been thinking a lot lately," she said. "Is kinship a spiritual bond or a blood bond? What do you think?"

"I don't know," he shrugged and wondered. "Probably a blood connection. There might not be a spiritual connection to the relatives. But there's still blood."

"Yeah, that's right... I didn't really get along with Allesandro, you know," she admitted. "When we were kids, though, we were thick as thieves. My parents often came to Cassard in the winter to visit Alessie. We used to run around here all day, hiding from the caretakers. There are fewer damaged vehicles further away. It was almost impossible to find us there. We all came back burnt from head to toe. Baron Kouifi even wanted to get rid of it, but his parents told him not to. It was a pity for such a beauty..."

Alex listened to this sentimental monologue, wondering feverishly how to proceed. He was spoken of in the third person, and Kayrin might as well have said, "Hey, I know you're not Lord Cassard". She, too, had a blaster on her belt, and he didn't want to have to compete with her reaction time.

On the other hand, why would she attack you? came a sobering thought from an inner voice. She obviously didn't find out about it today, and if she wanted to turn you in, she had plenty of time for that. And she called for a 'chat'. Clearly, she's going to blackmail me.

This version sounded reasonable, and there was nothing very scary about the blackmail itself:

At least I'll find out what she wants out from under me after all, Alex decided as he calmed down.

"...But then something happened," the baroness continued, frowning slightly. "I was twelve, and I felt incredibly grown-up. And Alessie, he was..." She looked up at the sky as if searching for the right words. "It was as if he had deliberately become completely nasty, stupid, and arrogant. He must have been going through an initiation, trying on purpose to keep the number of people around him to a minimum. Ironic." She sighed. "Knowing a man since he was four years old and finding out he was an Adept too, only now. When you can't change anything."

"Kayrin," Alex tried to sound genuinely surprised, "why are you talking about me in the third person? And what adepts, anyway?" He decided not to "stonewall" until last to see what else she had to say.

She finally turned to him and gave him a look more like a blaster shot.

"We both knew what was going on back then. During the assassination attempt at the castle. You know I'm an Adept. I know you're an Adept and not Alessandro Cassard, but someone else in his body."

Alex glanced at the orber circling around them, I wonder how reliable that thing is.

"What makes you think that?" He asked out loud, trying to look as innocent as possible.

"I've known Alessi since I was a child! I could feel him through any defenses," she cut off and added in a calm tone. "Well, it's obvious you're an Adept because only two very powerful Adepts can swap souls."

"Is that why you almost killed me then?"

"Yes," the Baroness nodded grudgingly. "I was frightened. When I started the scan, I expected to see a shapeshifter or a spy in disguise. But suddenly, the Adept. And stronger than me. Although you have to admit, I'm not exactly what you'd call weak. I thought maybe I'd be fast enough to get the sword..."

"What made you change your mind?" The feigned curiosity in Alex's voice was replaced by a completely genuine one.

"I decided what the demons..." She shrugged. "Why kill you when we can negotiate? Besides, it was almost a second later, and I was still thinking freely. So you shouldn't have lied about your manifestation." Kayrin added, stumping Alex. "You're definitely not a telepath. Probably a seer, considering how lucky you are. Although I bet you set up the first assassination attempt with Allesandro, right after the ritual, to give you an alibi...."

"Why did you backtrack in the castle, then?" he asked, deciding to leave the matter of "manifestations" for later when he knew more about the Adepts.

"You have a visual recording system in your bedroom," Kayrin smirked. "I didn't know if it was on or off."

"And?"

"It was on, but I took the sticks away before Countess Durlurl's men got to them."

"Did you ever think for a second that I wasn't an adept after all?" Alex asked with a sly look.

"Well, that would mean you were in this body by the will of the Flame itself... Or the Twilight. I'm not so religious."

How the hell am I supposed to know if I'm adept or not? And sort out the 'visual record' in my bedroom because it's not decent.

"All right," Alex said excitedly, patting himself on the knee. "What's the deal, Sister Adept?"

"I'm not a Sister..." Kayrin grumbled grudgingly. "I'm a telepath."

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"Never mind..." he brushed her off. "What do you want?"

"Mutual aid," she smiled, though she showed a few more teeth than was necessary for a polite smile. "I help you. You help me. And we keep our little secret together about who we are."

"And how can you help me?"

"I've already helped you," the Baroness said indignantly. "Half the people who got you out of Tallana were from my Arm. And I could help you further, like better impersonating Lord Cassard. Otherwise, if someone who knew him intimately would have seen you all bloody then..."

Yes, of course, help be good, Lord Cassard agreed mentally and asked:

"And what you want in return."

"A ship."

"What do you mean?"

"I want a ship under my command," she explained. "Not some poor Corvette with no hyperdrive. A real battleship. One of the Triumphs, for example. And it's a lot easier to do with a voice on the Privy Council."

"Well..." Alex exhaled happily. "As you wish. Only they're trying to marry me and by extension the voice..."

"I promised to help you with that," Kayrin interrupted him.

"Then I don't see any problem," he shrugged. "I'll do my best to make sure you get your Triumph. Why do you want it, by the way?"

"Power..." she quoted again, bending down and plucking one of the little red flowers. "Lying among the stars." Kayrin pulled the glove off her right hand and placed the flower on it, looking at Alex expectantly:

"Give me your right hand," she explained, seeing he didn't understand.

"Why for?"

"We will swear on fire, on eternal friendship... Quickly!" impatiently exclaimed the baroness, wrinkling as if in pain. "It stings. Squeeze my hand with the flower. And don't resist!"

Alex reached out his hand and immediately regretted it. Kayrin gripped his palm in a deadly grip, and it felt like there was not a flower between their palms but a real burning flame. And as if that wasn't enough, a heaviness, already familiar from his interactions with Kayrin, came over him. And a gray shroud cut off the world:

"Swear it!" Kayrin demanded. "Do no harm to the Clan or the House. To help an equal in the Fire!"

As Alex barely squeezed out the words of his oath, it was the Baroness' turn:

"I swear to help an equal in the Fire," Kayrin said in a single exhale and finally let go of his hand, dropping the flower to the ground. "I told you not to resist," she added, breathing heavily.

"And I don't know how not to resist." He hissed, examining the burned arm. It was a real burn, and it hurt like holding a frying pan. "Would it at least heal? I have to go to the "unofficial meeting with the leaders of Cassard".

"You put some gel on it and put a glove on it. Ally," Kairin smiled, kissing his cheek in surprise. And wrinkling in pain, she pulled the glove over her equally burnt hand. She jumped off the "boulder" and walked over to the orber circling around them, catching it:

"Is he alive?" Kayrin suddenly asked, turning to Alex. From the look on her face and the way, she said "he," it was clear that she was talking about the real Lord Cassard.

"I don't know," he admitted honestly.

* * *

The spacious pavilion, somewhere on the periphery of Castle Istal, was filled with the most formal-looking people, with servants in white offering drinks and refreshments. All this elegant company condensed toward the center, where Lord Cassard stood surrounded by guards in armor. The Guardsmen were complemented by men from Cassard's police force, who stood on the perimeter of the hall.

The "unofficial" meeting with Cassard's "first men" was a natural extension of the "Day of Gifts" and was intended to give the "gift-givers" an opportunity to speak to the lord in a less formal setting. The event, unlike a Day of Gifts, was not mandatory, but both the Municipality and the Office were unanimous in encouraging the lord to attend. The lord was very curious to see what the "top people" were all about.

To his great regret, on his arrival, he was immediately 'occupied' by representatives of the Church, whom Alex, a little apprehensive, did not know how to behave.

"You must take up theology again," assured him, "Sororitas Tanouf," a tall, elderly woman of about forty-five with a straight face. She wore a loose black suit, and her dark gray hair was cut in a very short braid. But despite her age, it looked very natural. She smiled incessantly, and around her grey eyes and the corners of her lips was a dense network of characteristic wrinkles. "How will your soul find its way to the flame if you have lost the knowledge that would show you the way!"

"Well, not that I mind," Alex stretched out uncertainly, sending Taer a look full of mute pleading, Please get her away from me. But the "specialist," who was actively communicating with Major from Imperial Intelligence, only made fearful eyes in response. Kayrin, who was standing nearby, also listened to the "sororitas" with polite boredom on her face.

Someone important, that's for sure, Alex concluded grumpily. He hadn't yet figured out how to behave with representatives of the planet's dominant religion, so he was extremely polite just in case. So when the head of the Church of the Flame introduced him to Sororitas Tanouf. Alex felt it was better to talk to the person the head of the church represented. But the "sororitas", whose status in the hierarchy remained a mystery, had been babbling on and on for twenty minutes. She sincerely did not notice the respectable gentlemen with a model of a "starship" in their hands, stomping on the proximity.

"Splendid!" Sororitas Tanouf bloomed, broadly interpreting the words 'Not that I mind'. She even clapped her hands for joy. "I will ask one of the sisters who has taken up the ministry to serve as your mentor, the first steps on the path of fire. I'm sure one of them will gladly agree!"

"Sister Tanouf..." The head of the Church of the Flame Teesshir, finally decided to intervene. Judging by the look on his face, he was no longer happy about the "sister's" garrulity. "Revealing the mysteries of Ryan is certainly necessary for a member of the family blessed by flame. But it seems to me that we are abusing his lordship's time. He has worldly affairs to attend to."

"Ah... Indeed, I won't disturb you," she smiled again. "But I'm sure this won't be our last meeting, Lord Cassard. One of the sisters will be sure to contact you." She added and left without saying goodbye. She walked toward the nearest exit, placing her glass on one of the servants' trays as she went.

Despite the difference in size and apparent age. Sister Tanouf reminds me painfully of Countess Darlurl. The same manner, Alex decided, seeing her off. For sure, it's turned out to be some sort of ecclesiastical inquisition.

The group with the "starship" stomping around, seeing that the sister had left and "his purity" was in no hurry to continue the conversation, worked up the courage to come closer, bypassing the massive figures of the guardsmen in their spacesuits.

"Your Lordship, the United Shipyards of Cassard, would like to present to you the design of a frigate designed by our best group..." The tall, elderly man holding the model of the ship was not speaking. There was a shout in an unknown language from somewhere to the left, and a string of blaster discharges ripped through the air with a screeching noise as they streamed toward Lord Cassard.

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Taer was having a polite conversation about nothing with Major Derbal when suddenly her gaze drifted, and her body control was taken over by the guider. She saw the policeman standing behind her slowly, reaching for his weapon. At the edge of her vision, from the right where Kayrin stood, a blaze of gold instantly disappeared in a smoky emission of burning cloth and flesh. The dismembered servant folded in half, and the upper half of her body began to fall slowly down through the thick syrup of air. At that moment, her right hand, which had drawn her blaster, sent the first shot into the policeman's head and immediately changed target. The guider managed to kill two of the policemen, but the third still managed to draw his weapon, and before he could die, a string of discharges rushed toward the lord. One of them hit the arm of the man holding the model frigate, and two more struck "his purity" in the chest. The orange orbs burst with a crackle, sending out scatterings of scarlet sparks, and the Teesshire bent as if struck on the back of the head and slowly began to settle.

At last, the guardsmen in armor reacted. One of them grabbed the lord, incorporating him into the radius of his shields and enclosing him with his body, slightly rising into the air and moving towards one of the exits. An evacuation plan began to be executed.

The guider continued firing as if on a shooting range, not changing position, only moving her blaster to the next target. A few times her shield chirped with discharges, and suddenly it was over. The cold, emotionless rhythm of the battle disappeared, leaving her in the middle of the pavilion.

The fire-extinguishing mixture poured down in a milky rain of howling fire-fighting systems. The smell of burnt plastic and the moans of a wounded man could be heard. Someone in the commotion was trying to open the doors, blocked during the Lord's evacuation. The others looked around dazedly, trying to figure out what had happened. The attackers, frozen on the floor and on their white uniforms, the marks of the hits were clearly black. They were policemen, servants, and three of the guests.

Taer got over the feeling of unreality of what was happening. She turned on the communicator and began to give out orders. She had to make sure that the evacuation of the lord was successful. To summon the Carpathians from Baroness Rionale's Arm to cordon off the pavilion and remove the journalists. Contact the scouts, and call in the medics. And no local police. A few minutes later, she left Kayrin in command of the Carpathians and went into the small adjoining room where the wounded Teesshire had been carried out.

It was a waiting room for journalists. It was practically empty except for four small sofas and equipment cases. Taer carefully closed the door behind her, cutting off the noisy ruckus and the loud, jerky commands in the room. The head of the Church of the Flame lay on the floor, on his back, a crumpled camera bag under his head. Sain Major Derbal was leaning over him. He looked up at Taer, who had entered, and shook his head.

No chance. It was clear enough. The only medical team was scheduled to evacuate with the lord and were now on the frigate that had taken off. Those summoned were not due to arrive until five or six minutes later. Teesshire's injury did not allow for so long a wait; if he was still alive, he was doomed.

But the universal benefactor would still be alive. He turned slightly and looked at Taer:

"Lord Cassard..." he wheezed, panting. "Is he alive?"

"He's all right, your purity. He's safe. Don't say anything, save your strength, the medics will be here soon." The specialist replied in a hasty voice, thinking in panic, Great shadows, his right lung is burnt, how can he speak at all?

"Good..." Teesshir smiled. "It's early..." he whispered, and he let out a long sigh and stood still. The wrinkles on his face smoothed out. There was a bewildered smile on his lips, and it was as if he were younger or relieved of a heavy burden.

Major, leaning over Teesshir again, took a few quick breaths into his mouth and, placing his folded palms on his chest, pressed forcefully, then again. His body twitched in time with the presses, but Taer felt it was useless. She reached out to stop him as she suddenly saw the soft blue light in 'his purity' eyes.

Memories flashed through her, reminding her of the horror she had lived through, and she instinctively recoiled.

"Don't look!" she managed to shout, turning away before a wave of clammy fear touched her. But that was unnecessary. Major was already lying on the floor with his hands over his head.

A nasty, gut-wrenching creeping sensation spread like icy tentacles through her body. Her lungs froze, and she choked, trying to scream. Suddenly she felt the homing switch on, her lungs on fire, and the painful heat transferred to her muscles, driving the stupor away. The blockade finally kicked in, and the fear receded. Taer turned and saw what she had expected to see, a ball of orange flame, the size of an apple, hovering over Teesshir's body. The ball swayed faintly in the air, and there was a palpable whiff of warmth from it. She just stared at the flame for a few seconds when the ball poured blue and blew a wave of cool wind over her - disappeared.

The guider stepped back, and her convulsive sigh coincided with that of Major. They were both shaking and struggling to catch their breath, drawing in as much air as they could.

"...and souls are shaken, for there is no purity or power in them..." Sain Major recited in a hoarse voice, lifting himself and leaning back against the wall, "and their mortal will and wretched desires fill the soul with worldly fears..." He closed his eyes and sighed deeply, calming his troubled breathing:

"Here you are, learning what it means to be 'dirt in front of the pure Face of Flame'..." he added with a wry grin, his hands shaking as he took out a cigarette case and a thin gold lighter. Pulling out two cigarettes, he held one out to Taer.

"I don't..." the "specialist" started, but her hands habitually picked up a cigarette, and she lit it quite automatically. She took a puff and coughed convulsively. "Damn! I can't stand it, not even the smell, ever since I was a kid."

Major shrugged silently and, letting out a long bluish stream of smoke, quickly whispered a prayer.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. There was nothing to say, Taer did not dare discuss the appearance of the blessed fire, nor did the Major, it seemed.

"And they weren't going to kill His Lordship, Lord Cassard." Finally, he said, staring at one point. "If they really wanted to kill him, they would have carried a small charge. Inside the blaster so as not to arouse suspicion. And then one of the servants would try to put it, slowly, so as not to trigger the shield, against the lord's body. If the Second had been on their side, it might have worked. But they rushed in with their usual blasters and some even with table knives..."

"Then what was it? An act of desperation?"

"I don't know," Major shrugged, taking another puff. "Maybe they weren't after the lord... Or maybe... The Cholans are Sinth. Suicide was an unacceptable sin among them. They knew sooner or later we'd find them all, pump them full of Lim's serum, and find out. And now there are no survivors among the attackers, and there's no way to interrogate them. Although I am very curious to know what it was, or who they wanted to cover up that they even sacrificed their lives."

"Among the attackers was Cassard's third deputy police chief. It looks like he arranged it."

"Is he a Cholan?"

"No, a cassardian in almost the tenth generation."

"You see, there are so many interesting things we won't find out now." Philosophically concluded the Sain Major. "What did one have to offer a man in such a position?"

"Let's leave at once," Taer decided. "Until the scouts have gone through the place, there's nothing for the lord to do here." She declared and stood up, and headed for the exit.

"Mistress Diltar." A voice called out to her at the door. She turned around and saw that Major had also risen and was looking at her with some embarrassment. "How did YOU know that one should not look at the blessed fire?"

"It was a dream." She threw up and walked out into the hall, filled with people and bustle.

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