Page 48 of Only Cold Depths
The high-pitched sounds of blaster fire erupted inside the building, and streaks of color shimmered through the clear glass walls.
Asterin!I yelled.Asterin, can you hear me?
Only a faint, buzzing silence filled my mind in return, and I didn’t get any sense that Asterin had heard my telepathic call. Once again, despite my truebond with Kyrion, I couldn’t tap into his power. Why? Why couldn’t my magic justwork?
Anger shot through my body, but I tried again.Asterin! Asterin, can you hear me?
Still no response. A low, frustrated snarl spewed from my lips, but I forced myself to draw in a deep breath and let it out. Then I tried again, this time focusing on the person I had the best chance of reaching.
Kyrion! Thieves are breaking into the House Collier mineral exchange! I’m going to try to stop them!
I waited, but his voice didn’t sound in my mind. Another snarl rose in my throat. Why couldn’t I reach him?
A hot, stinging jolt of awareness shot through the bond and punched into my chest like an arrow. I gasped and staggered to the side, banging my shoulder against a metal bin.
Kyrion’s voice didn’t sound in my mind, but the sticky cobweb of him pulsed with icy fury. Kyrion had definitely heard me, but he was still miles away at the Collier estate.
Pew! Pew! Pew!
More blaster fire zinged through the mineral exchange, and surprised shouts rose in the distance. The workers eating lunch in the square must have finally noticed the sounds of the battle.
I took a few steps toward the blown-out door of the mineral exchange, then made myself stop. As much as I wanted to help the House Collier workers, I was no match for a swarm of mercenaries armed with blasters. Not to mention Esmina and Pollux and their psionic abilities. I might occasionally be impulsive, but I wasn’t completely reckless.
So how could I stop the mercenaries? And Ihadto stop them. Esmina and Pollux showing up the day after Kyrion and I landed on Sygnusterncouldjust be a coincidence . . . if I believed in such things. But I didn’t. Not anymore. Not since my truebond with Kyrion had formed.
No, this attack had something to do with Kyrion and me. I wascertainof it—just as I was certain that Siya would blame us for the mercenaries’ appearance.
I spun away from the mineral exchange and looked out over the shipping yard. Even if I had been able to get a grip on Kyrion’s telekinesis, the metal rods were all far too big and heavy to move. I wouldn’t be able to pick up a single rod with my mind, much less throw it at the mercenaries. The same thing went for the machinery, especially since some of the cranes were bigger than theDream World. . .
My gaze snagged on the crane closest to the mercenaries’ blitzer, and my seer magic surged to life, outlining the machine in that familiar silver light. Relief rushed through my veins, morphing into a wave of determination. I might not be able to figure out how to fully use my truebond with Kyrion, but my own magic hadn’t deserted me, and for once, I knew exactly what my power was trying to tell me.
I slid my stormsword back into its slot on my belt, then sprinted toward the crane.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
KYRION
WatchingVespergetintoa transport and leave the estate was more difficult than I’d imagined, especially since all I wanted was to follow and make sure she stayed safe.
The velvety ribbon of Vesper unspooled in my mind, the strand growing thinner and thinner the farther away the transport moved. My hands tightened around the balcony railing at the unsettling sensation, and it took all my willpower not to frantically grab onto that strand like a belligerent child who refused to relinquish a beloved toy. My inner monster grumbled, unhappy with my decision to stay behind, but I grumbled right back at it, and the moody bastard finally shut up.
I watched until the transport was out of sight. Then I released my grip on the railing and went back inside the guest wing to continue my reconnaissance.
I prowled from one level to another, studying every single area, from small libraries filled with paper books, to larger rooms boasting hoverbilliards and other gaming tables, to hidden alcoves that were only large enough for a single rocking chair. I even swept through a kitchen with a well-stocked fridge and pantry and a servant waiting to make whatever I desired, instead of having a brewmaker or some other food fabricator spit it out.
Oh, yes. The guest wing featured everything I would expect in a noble’s home—except security cameras. I didn’t see a single camera embedded in the ceiling, hidden inside a light fixture, or attached to a glittering geode sculpture on the walls.
The Colliers were placing a lot of trust in Vesper and menotto be spying on our every movement. But I supposed when your society was largely based on notions of honor and etiquette, eavesdropping on your guests would be considered very bad form indeed.
I wound up on the ground floor, stepped through a pair of double doors, and stopped in front of the large, central topiary garden. Like everything else, the garden was securely ensconced below the estate’s energy shield, so the air was pleasantly cool without a hint of the stiff breeze that was currently whistling around outside the shield.
House Collier guards armed with blasters were standing at the garden entrance, but they didn’t try to stop me as I stalked past them. I moved from one sculpted tree and hedge to the next, making mental notes of where all the paths led and which trees and hedges were large enough to provide cover from the guards’ blasters. I might not have gone with Vesper into the city, but I could make certain the estate was secure for her return.
Eventually, I reached the center of the garden, which opened into a wide circular area that featured several stone benches and small bubbling fountains. Thick stands of blue-moon peonies ringed the area, perfuming the air with their sweet spearmint aroma. A few mammoth butterflies were hovering over the blossoms, their shimmering black-and-blue wings making peony petals drift through the air like scented snowflakes.
Unexpected longing spiked through my chest. The area reminded me of my mother’s garden at Castle Caldaren . . .
The air shimmered, and suddenly, Desdemona appeared, sitting on a bench and pruning stray leaves off some peonies. My mother looked up, and for a moment, her gaze bored into mine. Then she looked to her right, and another vision appeared: me as a thirteen-year-old boy.
