Dark Space - Marianne de Pierres [119]
Mira closed her eyes for a long moment, summoning the energy, the clarity. ‘In Loisa they broke down the gates at the Carabinere compound. I-I was lucky.’ She stared straight at him. ‘If you can call it that. I was able to help Cass and her familia repair one of the TerVs. We used it to get to Ipo.’
She paused, panting again—so fragile.
‘How many familia survived with you?’
‘A few Galiottos and Scali. More Cabone and Genarri.’
‘Tia Marchella?’
‘No,’ said Mira quietly.
The woman called Cass Mulravey spoke up. ‘The rest of us are teranu and inklan. Honest miners for the most. And there’s a korm.’
Trin felt a rush of urgency. Mira Fedor was the only unrelated Crown aristo female left.
Djeserit’s gaze rested on him, as if she could read his thoughts. ‘It does not matter, Principe, who they are. Only that they are alive,’ she said.
He smiled at her and nodded. ‘Of course.’
This time it was Mira’s eyes on him. Wary eyes that he could never deceive again.
‘And Ipo?’ he asked quickly.
‘We were there for some days.’ Mira looked at Cass Mulravey. ‘Weeks, was it? There was a mercenary there who had devised a way to keep the Saqr out of the town. A laser enclosure, I think. Something happened at the end, though. They got through.’ She closed her eyes, as if remembering it.
‘Are you all that survived?’
Mira shrugged. ‘What news do you have?’
‘Dockside and Pell have been overrun. Malocchi is dead—I saw him. Franco is dead.’ Trin did not mention Jilda. In truth, he did not know if his mother still lived—nor if he cared. ‘We came here when we realised. Others had already thought to do the same. The tunnels run a long way south.’
‘The dust storm stopped the Saqr. But they will come. We cannot stay here.’
‘The Principe will lead us to safety Baronessa,’ said Djeserit.
Trin nodded. ‘Rest now. I have more men returning tonight. We will make decisions tomorrow.’
Mira agreed.
Seb Malocchi approached them. ‘We have beds for those who need it.’
Cass nodded her appreciation and followed him back to the group while Djeserit returned to the korm.
Mira climbed down stiffly from her seat. She stopped and looked up at him. ‘And if I sleep, Trinder Pellegrini, will you and your Carabinere still be here in the morning?’ she said softly. ‘Or will you leave me to die—like before?’
* * * *
Trin lay awake next to Djeserit, listening to her troubled dreams. The weight of her faith in him was as heavy as the Araldis rock between him and the sky. He longed to be outside and free of these tunnels. Everycreak of the catoplasma struts, every minor rockfall, had become in his mind the footsteps of the Saqr or the prelude to a shaft collapse. He did not want to die underground. He did not want to die.
He sat up and eased away from Djeserit, leaning his back into the wall. Not eating tonight had been easy. There was little enough food to go around with the new influx of women and no one had noticed the Principe skip his ration.
Lig honey had been set aside for those too distrait to eat, and had been harder to acquire. Trin had been forced to take it from one of Mira’s injured ‘esque women.
Now, with difficulty, he put all thoughts from his mind and slipped into meditation. The trance took some time to get right. He had not practised it since he had come into his potency. It had seemed unnecessary.
As Trin struggled to find the exact inner route, he wondered if he had been foolish in neglecting the ritual. Familia males practised daily before their potency commenced, so that they had command of themselves when it burgeoned. Once the rush was on them, the lessons were never as well learned: the mastery never as complete.
In silent mime he began the fertility mantra. When he was satisfied that his body was prepared he took the borsa from inside his fellalo and removed from it a pliable strip.