"Damn!" Falkon muttered. "That was a close one."
Looking out the window, she saw a brilliant flash of blue light. "What was that?"
"They fired on us."
She was going to die. She knew it. Closing her eyes, she tried to pray, but she was too afraid. It wasn't fair. Her life was going to be over before it had even begun. She would never get married, never have children, never see the triple waterfall of Demurre, or the dragons of Riv.
She shrieked as the cruiser rolled left, then right, then plummeted downward. They were going to crash. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Please, she thought, please let it be quick.
The cruiser shuddered and bounced before it skidded to a bone-jarring stop. Ashlynne opened her eyes slowly, amazed to discover the ship was still in one piece. That she was still in one piece.
She looked over at Falkon to find him grinning at her.
"Hell of a ride," he said.
She scowled at him. "Where are we?"
"Darned if I know. I checked the charts, but there's nothing listed at these coordinates."
"So we're on a planet that doesn't even exist?"
He grinned. "Something like that."
Ashlynne looked out the window at what appeared to be a swamp. Tall trees trailing fingers of silver moss rose up all around them. Spiny brush with bloodred blossoms sprang up here and there, along with spiky clumps of blue-green grass. She saw a pool a short distance away, shrouded in a hazy blue-gray mist.
Falkon shut down the engine, then rose to his feet. "Wonder if there's anything to eat on board," he mused.
How could he think of food at a time like this? She drew back as a long brown-and-yellow snake, its body easily as thick as her upper thigh, slithered down one of the trees. What other creatures lurked out there?
She could hear Falkon moving around in the back of the ship. Curious, she slid out of the seat and went into what she assumed was the kitchen. It was small and square and gray, hardly large enough for the two of them.
Falkon looked up. "We're in luck. You hungry?"
She shook her head. She was too scared to be hungry.
He punched a number into a small panel on the wall; a moment later, a tray slid out of a slot at the bottom. The aroma of roast karu-atar and coffee filled the small cabin.
He sat down at the small table that was attached to one wall. "Sure you don't want something?"
She shook her head.
"Well, sit down and keep me company."
She slid into the seat across from him, her hand folded around the controller in her pocket. "How long are we going to stay here?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. At the moment, it seems like a safe port."
She thought of the enormous snake she had seen outside. "Safe?"
"Sure. As long as we keep still and quiet, they can't track the ship."
"But I want to go to Arkata."
"Arkata? That's on Trellis, isn't it? What's there?"
"My fiancé." She had never been eager to marry. Niklaus was, after all, not only a man she had never met, but fifteen years her senior. But now he was her only refuge in the world. He would marry her and protect her.
Falkon stared at her. "You're engaged?"
"Yes." She lifted her chin defiantly. "Why?"
"Just surprised me, that's all."
"He's a wonderful man. Very handsome. Very rich."
"Rich," Falkon said with a sneer. "I could have guessed that."
"There's nothing wrong with being rich," she snapped.
"How'd he get rich?"
"His family owns a factory that produces laser cannons."
"Ah."
"You're nothing but a mercenary. Who are you to judge him?"
"I'm not judging him. After all, if it wasn't for men like him, the Romarians couldn't have firebombed my house." He didn't add that laser cannons had destroyed her home and family as well. She seemed to have put it out of her mind for the moment and he saw no need to remind her. There was enough pain in the world already.
Ashlynne bit down on her lower lip, silenced by the anger in his eyes, by the certainty that he had lost more than a house. "Are you… have you family somewhere?"
"Not anymore." Falkon pushed the tray away, his meal unfinished. "My wife and daughter were in the house when they burned it."
She had a sudden, horrible image of her own home going up in flames, felt again the loss of her parents. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, and knew in her heart that the words were inadequate, that there were not enough words in the galaxy to ease his pain. Or hers.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Me, too." He stood abruptly. "I'm going outside to have a look around."
"Do you think that's a good idea?"
Falkon shrugged. "Beats staying cooped up in here."
"But you don't know what's out there. I saw a snake."
"I'm not afraid of snakes."
She tilted her head to one side, her expression thoughtful. "What are you afraid of?"
"That controller in your pocket."
"I'm serious."
"So am I."
"What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?"
"Learn how to fly, I guess."
"That's not funny."
"Am I laughing?"
"Darn you, Falkon."
"I'm going. You can come with me, or stay here, but I'm going out."
Ashlynne glanced around. "You don't like small places, do you?" she remarked, thinking of the tiny cell that had imprisoned him. It hadn't been much larger than the galley.
"Not much." He moved past her, opening doors as he went. There were two cabins, fore and aft, a head, the galley, and a small combination storage area and closet.
She trailed behind, her hand caressing the controller.
Falkon opened the closet and pulled out a fur-lined jacket. It was more to his taste than the coat he was wearing. "Nice," he muttered as he removed the guard's coat and slipped the jacket on. "There's another one in here. You want it?"
She was torn between staying inside where it was relatively safe and going outside with him. In the end, being alone was less appealing than being with Falkon. The knowledge surprised her.
She held out her hand, scowling when he grinned at her.
"Guess that means you're going with me."
"I guess so," she said curtly.
"Where's the stun gun you took from Casman?"
"In my pocket."
"Well, keep it handy."
"Do you think I'll need it?" she asked, and then she remembered the snake.
Slipping on the jacket he handed her, she followed him down the companionway and out into an uncharted world.
Chapter Fifteen
Ashlynne shivered as a blast of cold air seemed to slap her in the face. Huddling deeper into her jacket, she followed Falkon down the ladder.
A gray mist seemed to hover in the air, its cold fingers slipping inside her collar, crawling up her legs. She shivered again and moved closer to Falkon. Why hadn't she stayed inside? At least it was warm there. And safe.
"What now?" she asked.
"We go exploring."
Ashlynne watched as he pulled the gun from his coat pocket and thrust it into the waistband of his trousers.
"Easier to get to, just in case," he explained.
His words did nothing to ease her nerves.
"Ready?"
She nodded. "I guess so, though I still think this is a mistake."
"Won't be the first one I've made," he muttered.
"Well, that's comforting," she retorted. "Let's hope it's not your last."
With a grin, Falkon started walking.
Ashlynne took a deep breath, her gaze darting right and left as she followed him. What kind of place was this? Even the ground felt strange, sort of soft and springy, as if it was going to give way beneath her at any moment. Tall trees rose up everywhere, branches heavy with gray-green moss. There was an abundance of plant life with spiked leaves and sharp thor
ns.
There seemed to be no wildlife other than the snake she had seen from the window. Remembering that, she glanced quickly behind her, wondering where the thing had gone. She hurried after Falkon, moving cautiously. Where there was one snake, there was bound to be more. And the snakes had to eat something…
"What are we looking for?" she asked.
Falkon shrugged. "Just looking."
"What if we get lost?"
"I never get lost."
"We're lost now," she muttered.
"We're not lost. I just don't know where we are."
They walked for what seemed like miles and miles, and the scenery never changed. Tall slender trees dripping moss, spiky plants and ferns; ferns, spiky plants and tall slender trees dripping moss.
She was about to suggest that they turn back when she heard a dull roaring sound. "What's that?"
Falkon shook his head. "I don't know. Sounds like a waterfall."
Curious, she quickened her steps as she followed him through the thick underbrush.
It was, indeed, a waterfall, but unlike any she had ever seen. It tumbled down the face of an enormous mountain, a foaming cascade of rainbow-hued water splashing into a churning pool, which gradually quieted and became a wide river.
It was beautiful, breathtaking, like something out of a fairy tale of old.
She started to speak, but Falkon lifted a finger to his lips to silence her and then pointed across the river.
At first she didn't see anything, and then, slowly, the creature took shape. She stared in disbelief. It couldn't be. But it was. A blue unicorn, a creature of myth and legend. It stood at the river's edge, delicate ears flicking back and forth, silver horn shining in the sun, its gray muzzle testing the wind before it stepped out of the dappled shadow of the trees and lowered its head to drink.
Ashlynne gasped as a small cream-colored foal moved up beside the unicorn and began to nurse.
The mare's head went up. With a flash of its tail, it disappeared into the underbrush, the foal close at its heels.
"Oh!" Ashlynne exclaimed in disappointment. "Weren't they beautiful?"
"Yeah, beautiful." His hand caressed the butt of the gun in his waistband. "Wonder if they're good eating."
Ashlynne stared at him in horror. "You're not serious!"
"If we stay here long enough, we'll be needing fresh meat. The supplies in the ship won't last more than two or three days."
"I don't care. You can't kill the unicorn. It's beautiful. Why, people spend their whole lives hoping to see such a creature."
Falkon grunted thoughtfully. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it would be worth more alive."
"What do you mean?"
He shrugged. "I imagine I could find someone willing to buy a unicorn if I could catch it."
"Only a mercenary would think of that."
"Right now I'm thinking about you and me." He stared across the river, his expression gloomy. "I'm on the run. I've got no credits. We need to find a safe port… I need to get back to Daccar." He regarded Ashlynne through narrowed eyes. "You said you were engaged to a wealthy man."
Alarmed by the speculative look in his eyes, she took a step back, her hand delving into her pocket to clasp the controller. "Yes."
"He'd probably pay a pretty hefty sum to get you back."
"What are you saying?"
"You're a lot easier to transport than a unicorn. And probably worth a lot more."
"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.
Falkon shrugged. "I mean, when we get to Arkata, it might be worth my while to call your fiancé and see how much he's willing to pay for your safe return."
"What do you mean, my safe return?"
"I'll tell him that you've been kidnapped, but I know where you are, and that for the right price, I'll deliver you safe and sound."
"You're despicable."
"You sound surprised."
She stared at him, wondering, hoping, that he was just joking.
"What's the matter, princess?"
"Nothing. And stop calling me that!" She turned away, the beauty of the scene lost on her now. How could she have been such a fool, to think he actually cared what happened to her? He was nothing but a scoundrel. "I'm going back to the ship."
"Can you find your way?"
"Of course." She started off briskly, eager to get away from him. Sell her, would he! Well, she'd see about that. He'd wish himself back in the mine when she got through with him. She'd… she'd… what would she do? Her fingers stroked the controller. She could cause him pain, but what would that accomplish? He was her only hope of getting to Trellis. The thought of Falkon using her as a means to an end stung her pride. Even though Niklaus could well afford to pay any amount Falkon might demand, she refused to be a part of it. She would just leave him once they reached Trellis, she decided, because there was no way she was going to let him use her to make a profit. The cad! And to think she had actually started to care for him, to feel that he would protect her. He had probably been planning to hold her for ransom all along.
Once they landed on Trellis, she would activate the shackles on his hands and feet and leave him in the ship. With his feet bound, he wouldn't be able to follow her. Once they were on Trellis, she would have no trouble finding transport to Arkata.
She was so busy imagining what it would be like to get the best of Falkon, she forgot to pay attention to where she was going. She cried out as she tripped over a gnarled root and went sprawling facedown in the dirt.
"Oh, blast that man!" she exclaimed as she sat up and examined the cut on her leg. "This is all his fault."
She wiped the blood from her knee with the hem of her skirt. Grimacing, she stood up and continued on her way, somewhat surprised when she actually found the ship.
Climbing up the ladder, she went into the galley and poked around until she figured out how to get something to eat out of the servidor.
She was sitting at the table, sipping a cup of hot tea, when Falkon entered the ship a short time later. As soon as she heard the hatch close behind him, she drew the controller out of her pocket and activated the manacles.
The sudden closing of the shackles on his feet caused him to fall. She grinned as she heard him curse.
Rising, she left the galley.
Falkon was sitting up, his back against the bulwark, his face dark with anger. He lifted his arms. "Turn me loose."
"No." She took a step backward.
Falkon glared at her. "Turn… me… loose."
She shook her head. "No. I don't trust you."
"Why the hell not? Dammit, I haven't done anything to you." His eyes narrowed. "Oh, I get it. You're mad, aren't you? Mad because I said I was gonna ransom you to your rich boyfriend."
She didn't deny it.
"It's the only way you'll get to him," he said, his voice suddenly calm.
"I'm going to bed." She had checked the cabins earlier, noting that the larger one had a good strong lock on the door.
"Wait a minute, dammit!"
"What do you want?"
"My freedom," he said.
"No. Goodnight."
"How about getting me something to eat, then?"
She hesitated, then went into the galley and punched the control panel, wishing it was his face.
Falkon stared at the tray she placed on the floor beside him. Karu-atar steak, crisp potatoes, blue corn, a cup of black coffee. He looked up at her. "How do you expect me to eat with my hands like this?"
"That's your problem," she replied airily. "I'm going to bed."
She stepped past him, shrieked as his hands closed around her ankles. He gave a sharp tug and she fell facedown, her arms trapped beneath her body, the air whooshing from her lungs.
She yelped as her cheek struck the floor. "Get off me!" She bucked beneath him, but it was like trying to move a mountain. He weighed far more than she did.
"Turn me loose." His voice was an angry whisper in her ear.
"No," she gasped
. "Get off of me! I can't breathe."
"And I can't eat with my hands shackled."