hung down her back, thick and healthy, streaked with gray. Her eyes, a clear green, seemed too big for her face. They had more lines at the corners than before, and he didn’t remember those dark circles under them.
This impostor isn’t a true match. She had to be an impostor. He couldn’t believe otherwise. She couldn’t be a prisoner, too. It couldn’t be her.
It couldn’t be his wife.
“Eldrin?” Her husky voice was painfully familiar. “Don’t you recognize me?”
Unable to bear her presence, Eldrin turned back to the window, knowing if he looked at her any longer, he would shatter. The Traders had captured him when their commandos broke through to the habitat where he lived with Dehya. Eldrin and Dehya had fled with their son while their bodyguards fought the intruders. In the end, Eldrin had sacrificed himself, blocking the commandos so Dehya and their son could escape. But he had never known if those two people he loved most had made it away.
The Traders had claimed his family died.
As much as Eldrin had denied their words, pain had shredded his heart. He couldn’t bear this hope. It was killing him.
She came to stand with him. Together, they gazed out the window. Blue-tinged light slanted across the gardens outside.
His mind refused to absorb her presence. She spoke and he answered, their words constrained, but he couldn’t hear. Hope was jagged glass that gouged his heart.
Gradually he became aware of a change. It spread over his mind. Warmth.
No.
An impostor could falsify a great deal—face, build, voice, mannerisms—but nothing could counterfeit what he felt now from the woman at his side. He had shared his mind with her for most of his life, through decades of marriage. She was dropping her defenses, leaving her mind vulnerable. His thoughts blended with hers, responding by instinct before he could stop himself.
He could take it no longer. He turned and spoke hoarsely. “Dehya?”
Her voice caught. “Welcome home, Dryni.”
Moisture gathered in his eyes. “It was for nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought—I thought you and Taquinil escaped.”
“We did.” She said more, but he couldn’t hear. Her mind overwhelmed everything else. The Traders had raised falsehood to a fine art, but he could feel the lies in their minds. Dehya had none: she spoke the truth. It filled his thoughts and flowed into his heart.
Eldrin embraced her then, holding her as if she would break. She slid her arms around him, her cheek against his chest. As he bent his head over hers, a tear slid down his face and dropped onto her hair.
Finally he let himself hope.
Seated behind his desk, Corbal peered at Jai over his spectacles. “Normally you wouldn’t be asked to deal with such a matter. But this case is unusual.”
Jai didn’t believe for one instant that Corbal needed reading glasses. His cousin undoubtedly had perfect vision. By easing his mental barriers, Jai picked up enough from Corbal to know the spectacles were supposed to create a scholarly aspect that would inspire Jai to trust his cousin. It didn’t work. Everything about Corbal made Jai tense, including this office, with its steel-diamond desk, silver walls, and steel-hued carpet.
Jai crossed the room and sat in a chair near the desk. “Tell me more about the case.”
Corbal paused at the blunt question. Jai was beginning to realize that in many situations, direct speech between Aristos was considered an insult. He wondered how his advisers expected him to benefit from their advice when he couldn’t figure out what the blazes they were saying.
Corbal, however, could use more direct speech without giving offense because he and Jai were kin. “The problem,” Corbal said, “concerns two of your more vital people. The man is Azar Taratus, an admiral and also the younger brother of Kryx Taratus, one of the Joint Commanders of ESComm. The woman is Tarquine Iquar, the Finance Minister. Her niece was your grandmother.”
Jai
This impostor isn’t a true match. She had to be an impostor. He couldn’t believe otherwise. She couldn’t be a prisoner, too. It couldn’t be her.
It couldn’t be his wife.
“Eldrin?” Her husky voice was painfully familiar. “Don’t you recognize me?”
Unable to bear her presence, Eldrin turned back to the window, knowing if he looked at her any longer, he would shatter. The Traders had captured him when their commandos broke through to the habitat where he lived with Dehya. Eldrin and Dehya had fled with their son while their bodyguards fought the intruders. In the end, Eldrin had sacrificed himself, blocking the commandos so Dehya and their son could escape. But he had never known if those two people he loved most had made it away.
The Traders had claimed his family died.
As much as Eldrin had denied their words, pain had shredded his heart. He couldn’t bear this hope. It was killing him.
She came to stand with him. Together, they gazed out the window. Blue-tinged light slanted across the gardens outside.
His mind refused to absorb her presence. She spoke and he answered, their words constrained, but he couldn’t hear. Hope was jagged glass that gouged his heart.
Gradually he became aware of a change. It spread over his mind. Warmth.
No.
An impostor could falsify a great deal—face, build, voice, mannerisms—but nothing could counterfeit what he felt now from the woman at his side. He had shared his mind with her for most of his life, through decades of marriage. She was dropping her defenses, leaving her mind vulnerable. His thoughts blended with hers, responding by instinct before he could stop himself.
He could take it no longer. He turned and spoke hoarsely. “Dehya?”
Her voice caught. “Welcome home, Dryni.”
Moisture gathered in his eyes. “It was for nothing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I thought—I thought you and Taquinil escaped.”
“We did.” She said more, but he couldn’t hear. Her mind overwhelmed everything else. The Traders had raised falsehood to a fine art, but he could feel the lies in their minds. Dehya had none: she spoke the truth. It filled his thoughts and flowed into his heart.
Eldrin embraced her then, holding her as if she would break. She slid her arms around him, her cheek against his chest. As he bent his head over hers, a tear slid down his face and dropped onto her hair.
Finally he let himself hope.
Seated behind his desk, Corbal peered at Jai over his spectacles. “Normally you wouldn’t be asked to deal with such a matter. But this case is unusual.”
Jai didn’t believe for one instant that Corbal needed reading glasses. His cousin undoubtedly had perfect vision. By easing his mental barriers, Jai picked up enough from Corbal to know the spectacles were supposed to create a scholarly aspect that would inspire Jai to trust his cousin. It didn’t work. Everything about Corbal made Jai tense, including this office, with its steel-diamond desk, silver walls, and steel-hued carpet.
Jai crossed the room and sat in a chair near the desk. “Tell me more about the case.”
Corbal paused at the blunt question. Jai was beginning to realize that in many situations, direct speech between Aristos was considered an insult. He wondered how his advisers expected him to benefit from their advice when he couldn’t figure out what the blazes they were saying.
Corbal, however, could use more direct speech without giving offense because he and Jai were kin. “The problem,” Corbal said, “concerns two of your more vital people. The man is Azar Taratus, an admiral and also the younger brother of Kryx Taratus, one of the Joint Commanders of ESComm. The woman is Tarquine Iquar, the Finance Minister. Her niece was your grandmother.”
Jai
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