Briefly Ronan remembered that personal contact was necessary for her telepathic senses to function properly. “I can’t smell him,” he said. “He must be human. I will disarm him.”
“No.” She pushed onto her knees. The rifle swung toward her. Ronan moved to intercept it. The muzzle touched his suit just below the helmet seal. At such close range, the beam could penetrate and kill.
“Do what I do,” Cynara said. She put her hands above her head. Against his better judgment, Ronan did the same. The man in furs snatched their sidearms and shoved the weapons among the layers of his covering. He gestured east with his rifle, commanding them to move ahead of him. Ronan kept himself between Cynara and their captor, guiding her along the path the man had already made.
The mouth of a cave opened up before them, rimmed with a jagged fringe of icicles. The fur-clad man pushed them through a door in a wall constructed of broken machinery and paneling.
Inside, the cave was a surprisingly orderly collection of materials undoubtedly scavenged from the colony’s remains. Furs were heaped over a cot and broken chairs. A small fire burned at the rear of the cavern, dancing in the draft from some unseen flue.
The man urged them toward the back and made clear that they were to sit or kneel. Only when they had complied did he lower his weapon and begin to unwind the wrappings around his head.
His face was human, clad with its own matted facial fur, and aged with tribulation. The eyes were nearly lost in wrinkles and the rime of frost on lashes and brows. He tugged off his gloves one at a time, never letting go of the rifle.
“Take off your helmets,” he commanded.
Cynara obeyed, her hands steady on the seals. Ronan did the same. It took him a moment to adjust to the bitter cold, and he knew that Cynara must be in great discomfort. He edged closer to her.
The man’s eyes widened, showing faded brown. “Been so long,” he croaked. “So long.”
“Who are you?” Cynara asked. “Why have you brought us here?”
He pulled up one of the chairs and sat down, leaning the rifle against his knee. “How did you get to Bifrost?”
“I am Cynara D’Accorso, captain of the Alliance ship Pegasus. This is my… crewman, Ronan. We came looking for a fellow crewmember forced to land on this world.”
“The ship,” the man said. He scratched under the collar of his fur coat and breathed out a cloud of mist. “I saw it. Thought it crashed. Was going to look for stuff I could use.”
“We have no quarrel with you, Ser—”
“Gunter. Sam Gunter.” He closed his eyes. “So long.”
“Ser Gunter, our shipmate may be injured and in need of immediate assistance. We mean you no harm. Once we have retrieved him, we will leave.”
“Leave?” Gunter laughed hoarsely, and Ronan heard an edge of madness in it. This one was truly ne’lin as humans understood the concept. Ronan prepared to fight at a moment’s notice, adjusting his balance to compensate for the weight of the suit.
“Yes,” Gunter said slowly. ‘Take your friends with you. But I need something first.”
Ronan gathered his muscles. Cynara held very still. “What do you want?” she asked.
‘That.” He jerked his chin toward Ronan. “That suit. It should fit me. You give me that suit, and you can go.”
“That will not be possible,” Cynara said. “But when we’re done, we’ll be happy to take you with us to the Nine Worlds.”
“You leave. I stay, with the suit.”
“You’re welcome to any supplies we have on the Pegasus—”
He jumped up and grabbed the rifle. “No bargaining. Suit now, you go. No suit—” He took aim at Cynara. “You die, I take both suits. Your choice.”
“Ronan can’t survive this cold—”
Ronan stood, his hands away from his body. “I will give you the suit.”
“Ronan—” Cynara began, scooting around on her knees.
“Hold it,” Gunter snapped. “Move, I shoot.”
Ronan met her gaze, and she read the stubborn determination in his eyes. He removed his pack, his belt and harness, letting them fall to his feet. Then he unfastened the e-suit, working from the neck down. Cynara could almost feel the cold seep through the double-thick shipsuit he wore beneath. The boots came last, with their element-proof linings and heavy soles. He kicked the e-suit aside.