Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine by Jeanne G'Fellers (reading tree TXT) 📗

streets and go directly to the terminal. Anyone stops us, we’re taking your sister to a healer. I’ll have my bow in your back the entire way. Slip up and I’ll set you both ablaze.”

Trazar nodded and stepped into the crisp morning air. First dawn was fading.

Talmshone waved back at Cance. “I shall meet you there.” He drifted into the shadows, leaving little in the way of tracks.

Cance pulled back the blanket, kissed LaRenna on the forehead, then pushed Trazar forward, steering him toward a lessertraveled street. “Good thing you dropped in,” she told him as they walked. “Now I have both a pilot and a porter.”

“Lucky you.” Trazar trudged ahead, protecting LaRenna from jarring movements while ignoring Cance’s insults. “You’ve given it your all,” he whispered in his sister’s ear again and again. “Whatever you do, don’t stop now, Renna. Don’t stop now.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Taelach vengeance is slow in coming but smothering and complete upon arrival.

—Autlach saying

Krell paced the dozen odd lengths between the nearest dune and where Firman and Tatra stood, her angst growing with every turn. Twice, she had heard LaRenna’s voice on the morning breeze. Twice, Krell’s companions had heard nothing.

“Where is she?” Tatra peered up at Firman through her windblown hair. Krell’s concerns, usually the point of irritation, were beginning to develop merit. “She’s long overdue. The Predator won’t wait forever.”

“It’ll wait until we get there,” snapped Krell. “Who’s going to pilot the launch, you?” Her nausea still lingered. “Come on, LaRenna.”

Firman placed his hand on her shoulder. “Be patient, sis.”

“I shouldn’t have let her go. She’s in trouble. I know it. I feel it.”

“LaRenna can handle herself. She proved that at the Hiring Hall. Have faith. Give her until full sunrise.” They stood in silence until the sounds of fighting rose from the base.

Krell turned toward the sound. “Time’s up, Firman. Take Tatra to the launch. I’m going after LaRenna.” She dropped her bag and LaRenna’s beside Firman’s and dashed up the stone embankment toward the Commons.

“Wonderful, just wonderful!” Tatra stamped her foot. “A ship’s coming for us and Krell takes off for Mother knows where.”

Firman grumbled under his breath and looked toward the Commons. “You know the way to the launch, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! What kind of a fool do you think I am?”

“You really want an honest answer to that?” He pushed the luggage toward her and scrambled up the path.

“Where are you going?” she cried. “Who’s going to carry the bags? Krell told you to take me to the launch.”

“Krell is my sibling, not my superior. Carry the bags yourself. I’m going to help find LaRenna.”

“Uh!” Tatra stood, hands on her hips, swearing at Firman as he disappeared into the ocean fog. “Nobody ever thinks about my needs.” She gathered the baggage and made her way to an easier side trail that led to the Commons, her spiked heels sinking in the sand as she walked. “I hate the Middle family,” she sobbed. “I hate Kimshees and most of all, I hate playing porter to someone else’s stinking luggage!”

Firman caught up with Krell halfway across the Commons. She ran the main streets, cloak and braids streaming behind her. “Don’t try to stop me,” she called back. “I promised to watch out for her.”

“I couldn’t stop you if I tried.” Firman dodged a wide-eyed, basket-toting Autlach woman who crossed his path. “I want to help.” They ran until the Waterlead came into view.

“Here.” Krell slapped a small blaster into his hand.

“That’s my Krell,” teased Firman, the seriousness of the situation momentarily lost in his panting jester’s grin, “Always ready. We going to going to walk right in there?”

“We are. Take the back?”

“You bet.” He edged around the building, signaling when he was in position. Krell waved back and approached the main entrance, mumbling suspicions when she found the front door unlocked. Cautiously, bowed arm in a firing posture, she pushed it open.

The main dining room was scattered with overturned tables and chairs. Firman burst in from the kitchen area as Krell fingered a large smear of blood and fluids on the bar counter. “I don’t like this, Fir.” She held up her hand. “She’s been hurt.”

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” he replied. “LaRenna may be the one who caused that spot. There’s nobody in the back, but the storeroom is a wreck. Stinks like someone’s been sick.” Firman watched his sibling touch the marks clawed into the counter’s pass-through end. “Probably just the scars of a drunken brawl. Did you check the downstairs facilities?”

“Not yet.”

“I’ll do it.” He stepped inside the small room and quickly retreated. “Come look.” Krell stepped in and out in the same manner, her mouth covered to ward off the stench.

“Know him?” asked Firman through pinched nostrils.

Krell nodded then exhaled to keep her gut reactions at bay. “His name’s Russ. He waited tables at the Food Plaza. Wonder how he’s involved.” Krell considered the possible relationship for a few seconds then gave up with a shrug. “We need to check upstairs. Back me up?”

“Yeah, just a sec.” Firman picked up a small hide belt from the floor. “Isn’t this LaRenna’s?”

“I’m afraid it is. Merciful Mother, what’ve they done to her?”

Firman startled at the fear in Krell’s voice. This wasn’t the woman he knew. Krell was solid and unyielding, a dedicated military officer and Kimshee. She never showed her deeper emotions, especially in times of distress—or did she? Was LaRenna already that imbedded in Krell’s mentality? “If I know LaRenna, she’s probably at the beach as we speak, cursing you for leaving her alone with Tatra.” He followed Krell up the treads, grimacing when he saw the charred door.

Krell checked the rear of the apartment while Firman examined the body in the front room. He was covering it with a blanket when Krell reentered with the remains of LaRenna’s bloodstained underskirt.

“This one’s Taelach,” he said. “I think it’s one of the Creiloff— What is it, Krell?”

“LaRenna’s.” Krell held out the scraps.

“It’s not.”

“It is.”

“You don’t