Of Fire and Night - Kevin J. Anderson [154]
The smashed hydrogue vessels continued to break apart as they tumbled from their great height, and giant chunks of diamond debris fell to the streets below, crushing buildings. Pieces of broken warglobe hulls plowed long furrows through the burned nialia fields. Screaming crowds ran in all directions.
A few surviving faeros ships flitted back and forth above the scene like smug fireflies. Then they streaked away, rising high and dwindling into hot starry points before vanishing entirely.
Astonished, Ridek'h turned to Yazra'h. "Are . . . are the faeros our protectors now? They saved us!"
Yazra'h stared at dissipating smoke that looked like a spreading pool of blood. "Or perhaps they have just caused us a great deal of trouble."
91
NIRA
Nira had no doubt the Mage-Imperator would rush to Dobro after the uprising . . . and she would be waiting for him. She wanted desperately to see him, to look into his star-sapphire eyes and decide for herself what his true motivations were.
The sooty daylight was filled with an unbearable anticipation. She stared at her rough green hands. These fingers had spent years digging in arroyos to pry loose opalbone fossils. Her body had been abused in countless ways. Deprived of contact with the worldtrees, her soul had cried out in anguish. She had been torn from her love, and later even her children had been stolen from her. In the end, Udru'h had imprisoned her on an island. In escaping from that island, Nira had made herself stronger. Alone, she had endured, and endured, and endured, barely looking ahead, simply walking and living.
Jora'h would be here soon.
Osira'h seemed disoriented after the revolt, as if the girl didn't quite understand how everything had happened, and what her own part in it had been. Sometimes, when she didn't know her mother was observing her, Osira'h genuinely looked like a child. But that aura of innocence never lasted long.
As if sensing her mother's scrutiny now, the girl offered her a strange smile. "Maybe we have changed things for the better. The Mage-Imperator is coming."
"Yes, he is." Nira's voice was harsh from all the inhaled smoke and the shouting. She was ready . . . and terrified.
As the Solar Navy cutter descended through the sky and the young Designate emerged from the gutted buildings where he'd been clearing debris, the humans looked fearful again.
In a daze Nira hurried around the former boundaries of the camp to the landing zone. Her throat was dry, her heart pounding. She stared intensely at the shuttle, remembering Jora'h's eyes, his feathery living hair, his warm kisses, his gentle caresses. She remembered the first time they had touched. And she remembered being attacked in the night, dragged away from the Prism Palace while Ildiran guards murdered old Ambassador Otema.
The ornate vessel approached in a tight circle, facing the still-smoldering main settlement as it came to rest. First to emerge from the cutter was a contingent of soldier kithmen prepared for a fight. They gazed at the dirt-streaked, haunted people who came forward like children who knew they must face a harsh punishment.
Then Jora'h stepped out wearing decorative robes sewn with ribbons that reflected the sunlight. His star-sapphire eyes found Nira, and he stared at her, drinking in the sight.
At first her legs trembled, and her feet felt as if they had taken root. Then something broke inside her, and all hesitation was gone. Before she knew it, she was sprinting with all her strength toward him.
The Ildiran guards drew their weapons to intercept her, but the Mage-Imperator raised his voice. "If anyone touches her, I will execute him myself!" The guards stopped in their tracks as if felled with a stun gun.
Nira kept moving toward Jora'h, but more slowly now, suddenly uncertain. When she stood before him at last, she was nervous about his touch--anyone's touch. After her experiences it was impossible not to feel threatened. But she resisted the urge to pull away. They embraced with the sweetness of painful anticipation