“And your world?”
Her pulse increased by increments, and he smelled the faint tang of perspiration. “On Dharma, men rule and women are permitted few liberties. A female goes from her father’s house to her husband’s and her life is separate from that of males.”
With a flash of insight he realized that she was ashamed, and that it had taken her much courage to speak of this to him—to admit a weakness among humans and among her own people.
“This difference in gender does not exist among shaauri,” he said. “Most Paths share equally.” He leaned closer to her over the table. “Human females do not lead, yet you are First of this ship.”
She gave a soft laugh. “That, my friend, is a long and complicated tale. There are many who would like to see me fall from this position.”
Toussaint and Janek. Both men had challenged her authority, subtly or openly. “They use my presence to work against you.”
“They need very little encouragement. But rest assured—they wouldn’t be on this ship if I thought they would undermine our—” She caught herself, brows drawn. “If humans were selected like shaauri—” An almost imperceptible tint of warm color crept up under the clear skin of her face.
“Aho’Va,” he said with respect, “you are va’laik’in, of Will. You are First among these of your…” He could not say House or Line, for such things did not exist among humans. “You are First of your crew. The one you call Adumbe, he is Second, and should be va’laik’in as well. But you called him scholar. That is kivi, Reason.”
“Can shaauri select for more than one Path?”
“I knew only one such shaaurin. He was of riama, Spirit, and vekki, Blood—a warrior and philosopher. He believed that all Paths are One.”
“As humans do… or should.” Cynara leaned forward as he had, so close that their foreheads almost touched. “Perhaps we are not so different.”
Ronan breathed in her breath and felt his heart drum within the walls of his chest. “So he taught. So he believed.”
“I would like nothing better than to believe in you,” she said, with an intimacy reserved for closest kin or mates. Ignorant, he was now certain. Ignorant of what she signaled with scent, voice, and gesture.
“How do I win this belief?” he asked.
“You said that once you had the gift of telepathy, like Kinsmen. Some on Dharma—the ruling families—carry this same trait.”
“You are a telepath.”
“Yes. Does that disturb you?”
“Do not humans fear those who listen to the thoughts of others?”
“On some worlds, yes. Kinsmen were often held in suspicion even before so many defected to the shaauri.”
“You are not Kinsman.”
“No. But the first Kinsman—a woman—came from Dharma.”
“Then you can enter my mind, and see if I speak truth.”
The deep blue of her eyes swallowed up the black pupil. She was afraid—not of him, but of something far less tangible. Not merely afraid, but terrified. She did not wish to use this ability she claimed.
“Yes,” she said, “if you’ll let me. It is… not an easy thing, to have a stranger come into your deepest self. I wouldn’t ask it, except—”
“You would not be First if you did not make sure of your enemies.”
Her gaze came back to his. “Your mind was tampered with. Only Kinsmen would have the ability to suppress natural telepathic abilities—Kinsmen or equally strong telepaths.” She hesitated. “Concordat Kinsmen construct mental shields for agents who may be vulnerable to telepathic intrusion from enemy operatives. I have one myself, and so does Janek.”
“I do not think I have such a shield.”
“But you may suffer more from any new intrusions, even if you don’t remember what was done to you.”
“You give me the choice, unlike those others.”
“Yes.”
“Then I accept.”
Cynara shivered and leaned back in her seat. “I promise that I will not go any deeper than absolutely necessary to confirm your intentions.” She brought her hands up onto the desk and clasped them. “My mind is not as powerful as that of many Kinsmen, or even some of my kin on Dharma. It will be necessary to touch you.”