“I should have come a hell of a lot sooner,” Roke said savagely. He was still angry with himself for ignoring the feeling of concern the Goddess had been sending him. “Thank the Goddess that Demon was there to save you from that bastard’s advances. I should have let him burn to fucking death!”
“I think the punishment of looking like he does now and living in a Court full of vain nobles who care more about looks than anything else is a worse punishment than death,” Ellilah said thoughtfully.
“You’re right. I doubt he’ll want anyone ‘Mirroring’ him now,” Roke said—and then wished immediately that he could call the words back. The last thing he wanted to do was bring up the disastrous Mirroring from the night before. “Ellilah,” he began. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t worry about it.” She looked away from him, staring out the viewscreen at the round globe of Torl Prime growing in the ship’s field of view. “Let’s just get Demon somewhere safe so that horrible Prince can’t hurt him.”
“Of course.” And clamping his jaw shut on all the stupid, useless things that wanted to come out of his mouth, Roke shut up and flew.
Forty-Nine
“Now, you be good.” Elli stroked the soft black muzzle for the last time. “Be safe and take care of yourself,” she told Demon. “There’s plenty of grass and a nice cold stream down in the woods over there.” She pointed towards the forest at the far end of the rolling plane, making sure the big zorel knew what she meant. “So you should be just fine here.”
Demon snorted a question and she shook her head in answer.
“I’m sorry, sweet boy but this might be the last time I see you. I’ll try to visit you, but I can’t…can’t make any promises.”
Demon snorted again and this time Elli felt sorrow coming from him when she stroked his glossy neck.
“I know—I’ll miss you, too,” she whispered. “If it was up to me, I’d come back here and make a ranch near my family’s and live with you the rest of my life—you and a whole herd of zorels. But it’s not up to me. I’m sorry.”
Throwing her arms around the proud, arching neck, she hugged the big zorel as well as she could.
“You’re a good boy,” she told him. “I’ll write to my family and tell them to send a zorel doe or two to come and visit you sometimes. I think you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
Demon snorted in agreement and wrapped one foreleg around her legs protectively. He understood that Elli was saying a final goodbye and he was saying one as well.
As she hugged the big creature, tears flowed down Elli’s cheeks and into his feathery mane. She wasn’t just saying goodbye to Demon—she was saying goodbye to the life she loved more than any other—training and riding zorels. She would be going back to the cold, sterile life of a priestess with no one to love and no one to love her—no one to hold her at night or kiss her or—
No! Realizing where her thoughts were taking her, Elli pushed them away. She knew it wasn’t just Demon or ranch life that she was crying for—it was the loss of Roke. The big warrior had gotten into her heart and now Elli didn’t know how to get him out again.
Yes, you do, whispered the little voice in her head. Just a sip from the cup of Mortem Amore will erase your pain. Just get back to the Mother Ship and do what you need to do.
With a final caress, she left Demon and walked to the edge of the pasture, where Roke was waiting. There was only one way to get rid of the guilt and loss she felt and Elli was determined to do it.
Fifty
“Where to now? Back to the Mother Ship, I guess?” Roke asked, raising an eyebrow at Elli as she buckled herself into the passenger seat of his ship.
Elli nodded.
“Yes, I suppose. Though I don’t really have an excuse to go back since I never got a piece of the Healing Lattice for the old Priestess Superior. Still…what else can I do?” She sighed.
“As for that, I have something I think might help.”
Roke reached into an inner pocket and drew out a carefully folded white handkerchief of the same fine linen all the Tenebrian nobles used. Unfolding it, he held out his hand to Elli, who stared in surprise and delight.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, nudging the tiny crystal twig—about an inch long—that rested in Roke’s cupped palm. It glittered like a captured piece of rainbow, throwing multicolored shadows on the ceiling of the cockpit. “You got a piece after all! How did you do it?”
Roke shrugged and gave her a crooked grin.
“Told you I was a thief. I had a feeling the Crown Prince wasn’t going to keep his word, so I helped myself to a piece while the two of you were busy planning how you would lead Demon in the Grand Parade, to make him look brave and noble.” He made a face. “The bastard.”