“I do not require it.” He unwebbed and rose to face her. “I cannot go to any human colony. I would live on an uninhabited planet if humans could survive there, but I do not wish to spend the rest of my life alone. Shaauri go mad when they are alone, Cynara. I think humans do the same.”
“Like Sam Gunter on Bifrost,” she said. “Yes, humans do the same.” She stood before him, hands on hips. “Have you considered that the Kinsmen aren’t just going to leave you alone? You know too much. They’ll find you on Aitu, Ronan.”
“I expect it.”
“And you have a plan to deal with them?”
“My plan is to find proof that they are enemies of shaauri, and expose them.”
“You think you can accomplish this on your own.”
“At least it will be my choice. No one will steal that from me again.”
Cynara returned to the cockpit and spent the hours en route to the next wormhole cursing herself for believing, if only for a moment, that Ronan would allow her to save him.
He didn’t know she’d planned to accompany him to the Shaauriat from the moment they’d left Persephone. Lord Miklos had hoped she wouldn’t, but he was no fool. He and Carter VelShaan had taken the necessary precautions in case she chose to do so.
It was clear to Cynara that Ronan would rather die than continue to live among his adopted people as an outcast, and there were certainly those in the Shaauriat who would oblige his wishes. Only one thing might compel him to fight for himself, and that was her presence at his side. She must either convince him to take her with him, or take the decision out of his hands.
Cynara tried to rest in the pilot’s seat until the next alarm sounded. She took the yacht through the wormhole, laid in the course for the final leg, and then went looking for Ronan.
He had gone aft to examine the lifepod that was to carry him through the final wormhole into the Shaauriat. The pod had been designed for two passengers, with room for a third if necessity dictated. In effect, it was almost a miniature starship with the capacity to travel a certain distance under its own power.
Ronan was stretched out on one of the reclining seats, familiarizing himself with the overhead control panel. Cynara poked her head inside the hatch and wormed into the second seat.
“I have to talk to you,” she said.
“Are we approaching the border?”
“Soon.” There was so little extra room for movement that she brushed his arm or side with every shift of position. Each touch increased her sense of urgency. “Ronan, look at me.”
He turned his head. His gaze was direct, unafraid, and filled with sorrow. “Aho’Va.”
“Stop it. Don’t treat me like some kind of distant superior you wouldn’t dare to touch.”
“You are still angry. Would it not be better if we parted in friendship?”
“Friendship, Poseidon’s balls.” She grasped his arm and pulled him about to face her. “I have no intention of letting you go back to the shaauri alone.”
“You must. I cannot allow—”
“You stiff-rumped, landlocked… Haven’t you realized by now that I love you?”
He went very still. ‘This is not wise, Cynara.”
“No. It’s not wise at all.” She waited for his answer, knowing she hadn’t the slightest idea how he would respond. Yet she was strangely at peace with herself. Nothing he said could hurt her, for she saw her path clearly, more clearly than at any other time in her ineffectually rebellious life.
“It is not possible,” he said, pushing her hand away. “You would be regarded as an enemy among my people, and by the Kinsmen most of all.”
“I’m not as defenseless as you think.”
“I am the Challinors’ enemy, Cynara. I will not betray my House and Line.”
“I’m not asking you to choose. I’m only demanding the right to protect the life I saved at considerable cost on the day you left the shaauri.”
“Protect.” He laughed with an edge of cruelty. “Protect me from your enemies?”
She seized the hair at the nape of his neck. “You owe me. You deceived me and my crew, and by Scylla’s teeth I’m not letting you do it again.” Dragging his head down to hers, she kissed him, biting into his lower lip.