Page 30 of Hope Forged
She gaped, hefting it. “It’s heavy. I hadn’t noticed that the last time I held one.”
He knelt, sliding his hands around her thigh as he undid the built-in straps on her pants that would holster the blaster. A slight tremble beneath his fingers had him raising his gaze tohers. She gave him the weapon, her smile wide. When he leaned back to admire his handiwork, she bounced on the spot.
“I’ll have to get used to the weight,” she said, then laughed. “Logically, I’ll have to relearn my balance with my healed legs anyway.” Her humor faded. “Thank you for insisting on helping me when I was making it difficult for you to do so.”
“I have been a prisoner. I know what it is like to lose hope, to distrust everything and everyone. And you were alone, with no one to come to your rescue. You were wise to be cautious.” He stood and opened another closet that housed mounted blades. An eating dagger made the best choice considering her hand size. The Ferusi gem embedded in the hilt might help convince her not to choose a much larger dagger. “Too small?” he asked when she stroked the deep green stone.
“Too pretty,” she said, eyeing the more lethal-looking blades. “But there are no plain small ones. As much as I wish I could take a bigger dagger, I must be able to wield it. Won’t the Etterians mind you giving away something so…” She bit her lip and cast her gaze at Coll and Brac marching to the shuttle bay.
“We are Durn,” Illan said around the lump in his throat. Anger fought with the fire in his belly. That she valued the garments, weapons, and a med-gun said much about her suffering.
“You keep saying that,” she mumbled, palming the dagger, then running her thumb over the gem. “Do you think we’ll find my father?”
“Yes.” But alive? Illan wasn’t sure. The heat signature had flickered. Not a good sign. They were running out of time.
“Ready?” Brac asked, hovering in the doorway to the bay.
Illan closed the panels and faced the male. “If the equipment is not too cumbersome to port.”
“Very well. We will port without you, secure the anchor, then I will return for the kuta to scout our next destination.” He left, venturing deeper into the bay. The door shut behind him.
Illan gestured to Seba. “Sink your fingers into his fur until you reach his skin.”
After she knelt to do so, he activated his O.D.I., then touched her shoulder. “Three to port, Ulta. Return us to the ship.”
When they materialized beside the dead fire, Seba jerked awake and glared at Illan. With a harrumph, he sauntered into the bushes. A glance at the sun showed it to be mid-afternoon. They needed to hurry. Getting trapped in the cavern to wait out the night wasn’t a preferable outcome.
“Greetings, Ziamee and Illan,” Oz said.
“Don’t target Brac and Coll, Oz. They’re here to help,” she said, studying the large pile of kreso haunches set beside the fire pit.
“Acknowledged.”
“Good. Any news?” she asked, leaning into the battered ship.
“Nothing.”
Her shoulders slumped an inch before she swiveled on a heel and marched toward Illan. “Let’s go.”
He caught her elbow. “What is the matter?”
“I was hoping Padya had found his way home.” She glanced away, hoping to hide her tears. When she met his gaze, she chuckled though her humor didn’t warm her eyes. “I swear this planet’s trying to kill me.”
“Fear the dark?” he asked, wanting to understand where that comment stemmed from.
“No.” She strode ahead. “Scared of the truth,” she tossed over her shoulder.
He trailed her, not about to assure her when he wasn’t confident either. Her father could be dead or near to it. And perhaps her thinking that would add caution to her movements. He half expected her to propel down and leap from rock to rock to reach her father. But talking her out of going with him wasn’t possible. She’d set her jaw, raised her chin, and squared her shoulders when she’d announced her intention to come with.Arguing would have been futile. And what he knew about her, it would have set her stance in stone.
As they climbed toward the crevice, her swaying backside filled his vision. He’d forgotten to ask Coll to assess his mental state. This heat she evoked was far too addictive and intriguing. He wanted to test these urges even though he calculated a fifty-two percent chance of disappointment. Still, with the way his breath hitched at the idea of it, he had to try. But first, her father…
Brac waited beside a Maloidian anchor hammered into the rock. It sat flush with the ground. Illan could only assume the metal had gone in with ease. After all, Etterians used Maloidian blades to slice the Fuyra rock they mined. Ropes were tied to the anchor and around Coll. Two more such harnesses awaited Illan and Ziamee. Brac fitted them, his movements efficient and not invasive. Illan watched, vigilant, ready to strike should Brac’s touch linger on Ziamee’s body like Illan longed to.
Coll balanced on the edge with his heels, then disappeared into the darkness.
“Milady?” Brac caught her wrist and guided her toward the crevice.
She drew in a deep breath, then with amazing agility, she mimicked Coll’s movements.
