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Take it. He slung it around her shoulders and fastened it at her throat. Lifting
the hood he drew it gently over her hair. At least let me know you ll be warm and
dry.
She didn t argue, just gave that little smile again that didn t reach her eyes,
though her hand briefly brushed across his arm. Thank you. Turning, she walked
down the ramp.
Heddam moved after her, stopping at the top to watch as she stepped down into
the grass. He fought the instinct to follow her, to grab her and drag her back inside.
She wasn t his to capture and hold. He had no right to stop her, to interfere in
that which he knew nothing about.
Inwardly he swore, even as he tried to make sense of his feelings.
She wouldn t look back. Her stride was sure as she reached the darkness that
lingered at the edge of the ship. He wouldn t see her face again.
It hurt.
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But then she faltered. She stopped. Looking into the darkness beyond, Tasi lifted
her head and breathed deep, straightening her shoulders.
She looked back. Just once. Her gaze unerringly going up the ramp to collide
with his gaze. She looked at him for five long seconds. Instinctively, Heddam took
one step forwards. Mayhaps she s changed her mind.
And then she was gone, the darkness swallowing her, the rain drowning out any
sound of her footsteps.
Standing at the top of the ramp, Heddam looked out at the drowning darkness.
He felt as though he d lost something, and the irony of it was that he didn t even
know what he d lost.
Could one lose what wasn t his to start with?
~ * ~
Eighteen bleached heads were now on the spikes lining each side of the gate. In
the middle of the forehead of each skull was a teardrop-shaped hole.
In the Ruling Room, the High Emperor sat on the throne and contemplated the
glass cabinet that had just had the glass door locked. In the cabinet, mounted on
royal black marble, eighteen topaz kyrats glowed dully.
Contemplating them, the High Emperor rubbed his jaw. Kyrats. The symbols of
power. At the top of the topaz kyrats was a multi-coloured kyrat. It, too, glowed
dully. It, too, had held the power.
The power he needed. The power he craved. The power he would use to crush
the last rumblings of the revolutionists who wanted the old ways back. The
revolutionists, his hidden enemies.
Three people stood between him and that power.
Three Guardians.
Three left to kill.
~ * ~
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Looking down at the map spread on the table before them, Vulcan rubbed his
forehead. It s impossible. How can we get to the survivors? They could be
anywhere.
Miness sighed. We have to try.
We ve been trying for five months. This is hopeless!
We can t give up. We need the surviving Guardians to return.
The Third Way
Shhh. She glanced around nervously. Not here.
Exhaling noisily, Vulcan rolled the map up. We need a more secure place.
Yes. Here is too She stopped. Did you hear that?
Hear what?
The door in the far wall opened and four figures slipped inside.
Vulcan grabbed for his laser only to find one already pointed at him. The colour
leeched from his face as he stared at Miness. Traitor!
No. She snatched the map from his hold. You are the traitor.
The four figures moved forward and now he could see their faces clearly. He
was shocked, his eyes widening. No!
Yes. Raising the laser to point at his forehead, Miness pulled the trigger.
A hole burned deep between the eyes of Vulcan, and he dropped to the floor
lifelessly.
The Third Way. Musingly, Miness tapped the end of the rolled map against
her chin. The Old Way, the New Way and the Third Way. It s a race, is it not, to
see who wins?
What do you want us to do with him? the woman standing near the door
queried. The same as before?
Most definitely. Stepping over the fallen body, Miness left the room.
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~ * ~
The tiny panel that opened out through the eyes of the painting which covered it,
slid shut. He pondered what he d seen. All very interesting. Yaltan would be
interested to hear what was going on.
Very interested.
~ * ~
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