And then, without warning, she opened her mind to him. He saw that she did believe him; he felt that incredible generosity of spirit and courage that allowed her to forgive and yet find regret for what he might have suffered. If there was any fear, it was so well hidden that he could not discover it.
She challenged him to take what he could of her thoughts and what lay beneath. He refused the temptation. But in his refusal, he let her feel what should have remained locked in his own heart. She shut him out as firmly as she had done at the end of their night on Dharma.
“I’m here alone,” she said. “The Pegasus is en route to Dharma, as before. I won’t leave you until this has been resolved.”
“If I am judged a murderer, I will be punished,” he said. He reached toward the field, irrationally wishing to touch her even if that touch brought him pain. “Do not stay, Cynara.”
She shook her head fiercely. “You won’t be executed. I can’t explain it all now, but—”
Her words were interrupted by the sudden attention of Ronan’s guards and the entrance of Lord Miklos. He came to stand beside Cynara, his gaze hard and uncompromising.
“Ronan,” he said. “I’ve spoken to Lord Damon, and I have convinced him to let you go.”
“He believes… you also believe that I was sent to kill the Archon.”
“It doesn’t matter what I believe.” He gazed at the floor between his feet. “Even among humans, kinship means something more than social advantage and accident of birth. You are the son of my sister, Lady Kori Galatea Challinor, and her husband, Jonas Kane VelArhan of the Kinsmen. For that reason, and for that alone, you will be permitted to leave Persephone and return to your adopted people.”
* * *
PART III
Shaauri-ja
* * *
Chapter 21
« ^ »
Challinor.
Ronan heard the words, and there was a part of him that understood instantly, even accepted as if in some way he had always known.
But the part that was shaauri revolted. He sat down on the cool floor of the cell, placing his hands flat at his sides to support his unsteady weight.
All his life he had wondered about his human parents. He had been told that they were human colonists on a backwater world, left alive but childless when he was taken in a be’laik’i raid. Even when he had doubted the story—even when he had fled shaauri-ja convinced his escape was real—he had never seriously believed he would see them again.
Lady Kori Galatea Challinor. Jonas Kane VelArhan.
“You are Damon’s brother,” Cynara said. She came nearer to the field and knelt, one hand lifted. “Lord Miklos is your uncle. Your mother and father were lost in shaauri space on a diplomatic mission twenty-three years ago, and presumed dead along with one of their three sons, Achilles. You, Ronan.”
Ronan was not his real name. He had known that, too. But Achilles meant less than nothing.
Damon was his brother. Phineas Janek, the man who hated him, was as close to him as any human could be by birth.
“The Archon feels some sense of obligation to his sister,” Miklos said coldly, “as do I. We recognize that it was not your choice to be raised among our enemies, and that your will has not always been your own. Nevertheless, you’ll be allowed to leave only with the understanding that any attempt to return to human space will meet a lethal reception.” He looked away, as if he couldn’t bear to see this pathetic creature that was his kin. “We can’t risk the danger you present to all humanity. Go back to the shaauri, and remain there.”
Sickness bent Ronan to the floor. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and let his forehead rest against the hard gray surface.
“Ronan,” Cynara whispered.
“I understand, Aino’Kei,” he said. “But if you let me go, I will promise nothing. I cannot.”
“Captain D’Accorso has agreed to escort you to the edge of the Shaauriat, and I have made my yacht available for this purpose. Its lifepod’s engine has the range to get you through the wormhole and into the hands of the shaauri—if that is where you wish to go.”