Page 51 of Salvation
“Absolutely not.”
Nick glanced at his friend. If only he could ask about his wife. It’d been bugging him since that first meeting with the committee weeks ago, but asking would make him the nosiest person on the planet. If Dante had ever wanted to talk about his wife with him, he’d have done so way before now.
“I have been meaning to say,” Dante waved a gloved hand at Saku’s Hello Kitty duffle, “nice bag, Nick.”
“Don’t start, Dante.”
A trail of white steam accompanied Dante’s chuckle. “I sense something is on your mind. Dare I hope you have made the decision to return to the Collegium for your master healer’s level?”
“That’s not what’s on my mind, but, yes, I have been thinking about it.”
“Good.” That one word seemed weighted with hope. “Then, what is on your mind, son?”
Now, that was an opening if Nick had ever heard one. “It’s kinda personal, and probably none of my business, but how did things go with your, um, aunt-in-law?” What else could he call her?
“Her end was one of peace,” Dante replied. “I am blessed that the Holy Mother allowed me to be at her side as her journey here came to an end.”
They trudged forward, Dante not saying a word. Did he suspect what the next question would be? The silence stretched, the only sound the hiss of the breeze in the trees. Nick blew out a short sigh. No time like the present, and besides, Dantehadasked. “I wish I’d known about your wife sooner. She must have been someone pretty damn special.”
“You are correct, Nick,” Dante replied. “That is personal.”
Fastest shut down in the history of shut downs. Not that he hadn’t expected it. “I’m sorry.”
“Veni.” You are forgiven.
An icy finger stroked across the base of Nick’s skull and his step faltered. “Dante, we have compan—”
A heavily-dressed figure stepped out of the trees, blocking their path. Whoever it was, they were too short to be Anferthian, and they pointed the business end of what appeared to be an old-style Earth rifle at them. This was all kinds of suck.
He reached for histelum.
“Don’t.” The stranger’s voice was female. And vaguely familiar. “You’re surrounded.”
He cast a glance over his shoulder. Three more people blocked the most obvious escape route.
“Get their guns,” the woman said, and two of her flunkies stepped forward. “Don’t do anything stupid, Mr. Bock, especially if you want to see your little Asian girlfriend again. Her safety depends on your cooperation. All it takes is one word from me, and she’s toast.”
Shit, she had Saku? Who the hell were these people, and what did they want? Nick set the bag in the snow and raised his hands. Dante already had his up. One flunkie took both Nick’stelumand the bag, while the other disarmed Dante.
“Okay, let’s go.” The woman’s order was brusque, leaving little doubt who was in charge.
“Where are we going?” Not that he expected an answer, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.
“Shut up, Mr. Bock.”
Nick swallowed back a surly retort. No sense in pissing her off until he knew exactly where Saku was, and whether or not she’d been hurt.
Their captors directed them off the trail in single file formation through the drifts between the trees. How long would it take before K’rona or Storo realized they were missing? It could be hours, maybe even an entire day. Unless, someone from one of the other villages reported in that he and Dante hadn’t arrived. But, even that might not happen before mid-afternoon. Comm communication was dicey on a normal day, but with the storm bearing down on them it would soon be nonexistent. It would be all too easy to conclude that the healers had chosen to overnight at a different village.
Nick suppressed a groan. After a heavy snowfall, even the best tracker among the Anferthians would be unable to follow the path being created right now.
~*~
Sakura tapped her fingernail on the reflective black surface of the lab table. Why did the device seem to analyze data faster when she wasnotin a hurry? Not that she had anywhere to go, but it would be nice to know if she had the right recipe foratolcethis time. She had been so close last time.
A jug fills drop by drop. A smile tugged at her lips. She could almost hear her mother’s voice reciting Buddha’s lesson. All right, then, she would let this jug fill and go find something else to do.
Ping.
