The Kingbird (Coalition Rebellion Series Novella)
Date: 2015-01-13 00:00:00+00:00
Description: A Coalition Rebellion Short Story What was hidden is now found. It has been a decade since King Dare and the flashbow warrior Dax reunited to protect their world. The Coalition has been driven out, but they have never given up on regaining the jewel that is Trios, and the battle is ongoing. The constant threat of the Coalition is a heavy load to carry, but it is made easier for King Dare and Dax by the presence of their mates, Queen Shaylah and Califa, and brightened immeasurably by their children, Lyon and Shaina. At the urging of the queen, the families steal one single day away from the pre
Publisher: BelleBooks Inc.

The Kingbird

Coalition 02.5

Justine Davis

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What was hidden is now found.

It has been a decade since King Dare and the flashbow warrior Dax reunited to protect their world. The Coalition has been driven out, but they have never given up on regaining the jewel that is Trios, and the battle is ongoing. The constant threat of the Coalition is a heavy load to carry, but it is made easier for King Dare and Dax by the presence of their mates, Queen Shaylah and Califa, and brightened immeasurably by their children, Lyon and Shaina.

At the urging of the queen, the families steal one single day away from the pressure, a day of rest spent at one of the few pristine spots left on their beloved planet, a place full of Dare's family history--a place where they find hope in a treasure thought lost forever, and their children unexpectedly discover what could well be the miracle to keep Trios safe.

---

SHAYLAH STARED at the destruction around her, trying for the sure and serene confidence that was expected of her as Queen of Trios, mate of a king and mother of a prince, reformed Captain and decorated pilot of the Coalition. She looked at Paraclon, the crusty old man who was standing amid the rubble, tugging at a blackened strand of gray hair. The eccentric inventor had paid a price for allowing two small rapscallions to experiment in his lab.

She had heard the explosion from the courtyard and had raced here, fearing the worst. Now, seeing no one had been truly hurt, she had to school her expression to sternness, battling the urge to smile, marveling that she finally could smile since the Coalition had been driven not only out of Trios, but her home world of Arellia as well.

Instead of an invading armada, she had only these two miscreants, the royal prince of Trios and the daughter of the Defense Minister, to be dealt with.

“And what,” she said, eyeing them both, “do you two have to say for yourselves?”

As usual, it was Shaina who answered first. Her son never answered quickly, preferring to think before he spoke in these situations. Which were frequent. The two of them together seemed explosive in and of themselves.

“It would have worked,” she insisted. “We just needed to adjust the fuel a little more.”

Again Shaylah had to bite back a smile. That the girl would answer with such bold assurance was just so very ... Shaina. More concerned with the goal than the damage incurred in trying to reach it.

“A little more and you would have destroyed my entire lab!” Paraclon’s indignation echoed in his voice.

“It only broke some of those crystals,” Shaina protested.

“And melted my central processing unit!”

Shaina looked a little chagrinned at that. “Maybe we did have it aimed a bit wrong. But we didn’t think the flame would shoot out that far behind.”

“I believe ‘didn’t think’ is the phrase to be used for all of this,” Shaylah said sternly. “What in the stars were you trying to do?”

“We were trying to make a rocket,” Shaina said, her expression saying that should be obvious although she kept her voice respectful; Shaylah suspected more because of the closeness of their families than her royal status.

“I can see that,” Shaylah said dryly. “Perhaps I should have asked why?”

“To launch it at the Coalition.”

Her son had finally, quietly spoken, and she shifted her gaze. She knew that young face so well. She saw so much of his father in it, knew she was seeing what her beloved mate, Dare, had looked like as a boy. But the eyes were hers, and right now they were full of an earnestness that made her heart twist in her chest.

Her child had never known peace. The active rebellion against the conquering Coalition had begun before he was conceived, before she and his father had even met. And it had continued for every breath in his short life. It was no wonder the boy was so serious, so focused on protecting his planet. His father influenced more than his genetics, giving him that sense of responsibility and dedication, teaching him the priorities of a king and a loving father in the best possible way, by living, breathing—and often sacrificing—example.

True, the situation on Trios had quieted, limited for some time now to occasional attacks the Triotian forces turned back with small losses. But the Coalition was still strong elsewhere, still battling as the rebellion continued to spread to planets scattered across the galaxy. Triotians cheered that, for it spread the Coalition forces thin, but they never forgot that the Coalition still hoped to regain the jewel that was Trios. Their lives were lived in constant awareness that another of the sporadic attacks could come at any time. Dare and Dax—their dearest friend, greatest warrior, and former skypirate who also happened to be Trios’s Defense Minister—were ever on guard, the tension never abated, and it had been so ever since Dare had come home and led his people to a startling victory.

Because of that, even when she could finally smile again and see the future, she recognized that their children knew too much of war and too little of childhood. They all sheltered the two as much as they could, but both Lyon and Shaina were too smart not to notice the constant undercurrent of tension.

And now she knew just how much it affected them.

Strange to think that her own childhood, despite the crushing tyranny of the Coalition, had been relatively calm. Thought of fighting back had died long before she’d ever been born. Arellia had been well conquered; the Coalition had seemingly been there forever. She knew little of what life had been before, the Coalition simply was. And she’d thought little of it when the only way she could follow her greatest desire—to fly—was to join them. Her parents had encouraged her, saying it was the only way out from under the boot heel. And it would benefit them, to have an officer in the Coalition forces.

She’d been too young then to realize the irony that she had gotten out from under that heel by becoming part of it.

But now she crossed her arms and looked down at the two children before her. At eight and nine, they were still of the same height. That wouldn’t last much longer she thought, almost wistfully. Lyon would be tall, like his father, she could see it in the length of his legs. She found herself dreading that time even as she loved watching him grow and learn.

She put on her sternest face. Both children lowered their eyes, knowing judgment was coming.

“You will clean this up. Every shard, every splinter. You will clean this room until it glistens, including scrubbing the floor.”

Shaina’s head came up. “But it wasn’t like that to begin with!”

“Then perhaps Paraclon won’t ban you forever, if he sees some benefit out of this.”

The girl’s head lowered once more. Shaylah knew the hours spent with the old man were precious to them, in part because he didn’t treat them any differently than anyone else. She thought that he probably forgot exactly who they were a lot of the time, which was likely half the draw.

“And,” she added, “you will replace or pay for what you’ve broken.”

Lyon’s head came up then. “We can get the crystals from the mountains, but how are we to replace his processing unit?”

She looked at the old man. “Paraclon?”

“Hmpf,” he muttered. “I’ll have to build a new one. But Dax wants all efforts focused on improving the efficiency of our shields, and it doesn’t do to keep the Defense Minister waiting.”

“Then this scamp can explain the delay to her father,” Shaylah said. Shaina groaned. “And these two will report to you daily after lessons, and take care of any chores they are capable of, to free your time for more important things.”

She wasn’t sure she was doing the old inventor any favor with that, but knew he would go along, just as she knew Califa and Dax would back her on meting out punishment for their daughter. Not because she was the queen but because they, all seven of them counting Dax’s ward Rina, were one family in all ways but blood. More than once it had been Dax or Califa reining them in, despite the fact that Lyon was the king’s son and the heir to the throne of Trios.

And that neither child ever questioned their right was an accomplishment they all treasured.

“What if he doesn’t want us here?” Shaina asked. “Sometimes he doesn’t, when he’s deep into something.”

“That’s for him to decide. He may dismiss you as he sees fit.”

“For how long?” the ever-practical Lyon asked.

“That is also up to him.”

“But what if he for—” Lyon stopped himself, flicked a glance at the old man, then back at her. “Never mind.”

Shaylah knew he’d been going to say “What if he forgets?” Knew he understood Paraclon well enough to know that when he got involved in his work, when some new invention—that could turn out amazingly or disastrously—filled his mind, all else fled. He could quite literally forget where he was, let alone remember who else was there.

She also knew Lyon had not said the words for fear of hurting the old man’s feelings. And for that, she loved this boy even more. He wasn’t just her son, wasn’t just the living evidence of the incredible love between her and his father, he was rapidly becoming the kind of person his father was, and that was the finest thing she could ever wish for him.

* * *

“THERE’S GOT TO be a way,” Dare said, reaching the far end of the common room and turning back to pace the other way.

“Paraclon’s working on it,” said Dax, lounging with every appearance of indolence on the couch.

Shaylah wasn’t fooled. She knew him well now, knew that he could—and would—erupt into swift, decisive action in a fraction of a second, given the need.

Sometimes she wished Dare would even pretend to relax like that. Perhaps some bit of it might become real. But he took his duties as king beyond seriously, and she knew that he was half the reason Trios was on her way to recovery. The other half of the reason for Trios’s survival was the indomitable spirit of her people. They may have slept too long, may have taken their freedom and safety for granted, but once awakened they were as fierce and courageous as their ancestors, who had founded this world that gave so much to all other worlds in the system.

“I’m weary of this balancing act,” Dare said as he turned once more on his seemingly endless crossings of the room.

“There just isn’t enough power to do all four at full strength,” Dax said reasonably. “We can have long range sensors, shields, winter heat on full, and no fusion canons, or we can have half shields, half the sensor range, no heat, and all fusion canons at the ready, or everything on at one quarter, or any other combination that adds up. The total never changes, you know that, Dare.”

“The winters are getting better as Trios heals,” Dare said, still pacing. “But we need more power, and we can’t get to enough nitron to refine for fuel. We have to do something, we can’t have people choosing between staying warm or staying safe.”

His people. He didn’t say it, but Shaylah knew he felt responsible for their welfare. His family had ruled Trios for generations, but always at the will of those people, who had the power to make a change at any time they didn’t feel well served. It had never happened.

And Trios herself was healing. The destruction the Coalition had wrought on this beautiful planet had changed everything, including the weather, but things were gradually righting. Still, twice in the last decade the winters had been exceptionally harsh. The first time they had still been in the caves, which were closed in and easier to heat. Dare had seen to it that sufficient stores of food had been prepared so no one went hungry, although the long season had shortened many tempers.

But last winter had been nearly as bad as that legendary one, and they were back in Triotia now, in buildings that required more to keep them livable. So they had opened this very room to all, because through a trick of clever design and use of a certain Triotian stone, it stayed warmer than most. It had become a shelter for nearly five weeks.

Toward the end tempers had again been a bit on edge until Dax—of course Dax—had managed to turn it into a party of sorts. He’d done something he rarely did publicly, and brought out the ancient dulcetpipe to play all the classic songs of Trios he could remember. Those who had never seen their rowdy, powerful Defense Minister—although he eschewed the title and called himself merely the flashbow warrior—play the delicate instrument were startled into silence. Those who had seen him play before broke into smiles the moment they saw him carrying it. And Califa had sung to the gathering, something rare enough—and beautiful enough—to calm them all.

“The shields draw a lot of power,” Califa said now. “But we daren’t let them lapse. Coalition sensors could pick it up if we lower them and if they happen to be close ...”

“They could be here before we could re-engage them. You’re right,” Dare said.

Shaylah stayed silent. There was nothing she could add that they didn’t know; there wasn’t enough power to do everything, not yet. So instead of speaking the obvious, she allowed herself a moment to appreciate the small miracle the exchange had reminded her of. Dare had truly and fully forgiven her dearest friend. Califa, who of all of them had journeyed the farthest to become what she was now, a loved and accepted Triotian. Accepted even by the man she had once, in Coalition eyes, owned.

The man she herself owned in truth. Her Wolf.

She smiled inwardly at the thought, and of how often he had told her she did indeed own him, in ways the Coalition had never thought of, could never in their cold-heartedness begin to imagine.

“Not forgotten,” Dare had told Califa on the day he had healed enough to do it, “but forgiven. It no longer matters.”

And Shaylah had never been prouder of her friend than in the moment she had stood tall and faced a king to say, “It shouldn’t be forgotten. It is what we’re fighting against.”

Dare, still pacing the room restlessly, looking for an answer they had yet to find, reached the far end. As he turned to start back, he stepped into the shaft of sunlight that shot through the arched window at the end of the room. It lit him up, made his Triotian hair and skin gleam golden. There, she thought. There, like that, is how he should pose for the official portrait he kept putting off. The master artist who had painted the royal family for a century had been killed in a Coalition attack, but there were others nearly as good. But still he had resisted having that portrait done. He insisted he did not have time for such things. Which was one of the reasons she persisted; to pose for a portrait he would at least have to stop moving.

It had taken her a while to realize he was resisting because he didn’t yet feel worthy, and would not until his people’s lives were once again made as whole as possible. Perhaps she could convince him that the ten year anniversary of his return, coming up soon, would be the time. On a sunny day like today, no hint of shadow still hovered other than the distant threat they all knew.

“The excavators are still trying,” Califa said. “But moving that debris is a massive undertaking.”

“And they tell me blowing it out of the way would fuse the nitron,” Dax added, sounding regretful.

Dare’s mouth quirked. Shaylah smiled inwardly. Of course that would be Dax’s first thought. “Itching to blow something up, are you?”

“Always,” Dax admitted with a grin.

“Like father like daughter,” Shaylah said.

Califa rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, her mouth twitching at the corners as Dax’s grin widened.

“That’s my girl,” he said.

She’d explained what had happened in Paraclon’s lab, smiled when Califa said she’d gone too easy on them, grinned at Dax’s ill-disguised laughter, and laughed in turn herself when Dare had dryly pointed out he would expect no less from the offspring of the man who had nearly destroyed half this very room as a boy.

“They seem to be in rare form of late,” Dare said.

“Yes,” Dax agreed. “More so than usual.”

“I’m not sure why,” Shaylah said. “We’re well into spring. They’ve had plenty of time to burn off what appetite for mischief they built up during the winter.”

“I’m not sure they ever burn that off,” Califa said, her tone wry. “Perhaps we should up their time with Denpar.”

“More gymnastics?” Dax lifted a brow. “They’re already climbing the walls.”

“They’re frustrated.”

All four of them turned to look at the young woman who had, until now, remained silent in a shadowy corner of the room. Only the gleam of her short cap of golden hair was clearly visible.

“What do you mean, Rina?” Shaylah asked, glad the girl had finally spoken. She’d been unusually somber lately, and unwilling to discuss whatever was bothering her.

“They know you’re trying to protect them, not just from what’s happening, but from even knowing about it.”

“They are but children,” Dare said softly.

“We are at war. They can’t be only children,” Rina said bluntly.

She rose, took a few steps toward them. She looked around at them all. She was part of this family, they had all made sure she knew that, but Shaylah wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t have faced them down as intrepidly had she been a stranger in front of the highest seat of power on Trios. In fact, she knew she would, for had the girl not done exactly that when Dax had first brought her home, and he had been on trial for his life? Rina
Carbray was a lot of bold in a small package.

“They feel helpless to do anything about what’s happening to them and around them. They want to help, they want to do something. Anything. But they can’t. They just have to sit and watch those they love do battle and pray they come back.” She glanced at Dax. “Trust me. I know a lot about that feeling.”

“Rina,” Dax began, but then stopped. Everyone in this room knew the story, knew how Dax had rescued her from Coalition hands at no small risk to himself. And how, thinking Trios destroyed and her people dead, he had kept her with him on his forays as the most hailed and feared skypirate in the system. Shaylah could imagine how the child she’d been had felt as the one solid presence in her life, the one person she felt connected to, had risked his life time after time, leaving her behind to wonder if he would come back alive.

“This wasn’t just mischief,” Rina said. “Lyon’s a good talker, but he doesn’t lie. They wanted to strike a blow.”

Shaylah listened intently. Rina knew their children better than almost anyone, since she was their chosen companion whenever a third was allowed to share their amazing bond. She was closer to them in age than the rest of their extended family, and she still had a spark—well, more than a spark—of her old troublemaking skills herself.

“What would you suggest?” Califa asked.

Her voice was quietly encouraging. She was as close to a mother as Rina had ever known since her own had been killed by the Coalition long before Dax had found her. For all that Shaylah had found it unlikely, becoming both an adoptive and biological mother had softened the very core of the woman who had once been the coolest, most calculating officer in the Coalition forces.

“Give them a job, a real job, that’s more than just freeing Paraclon to work,” Rina said.

“Such as?” Dax asked, one brow arching upward but his tone mild.

“There must be some annoying little thing you or the king must do that’s crucial but simple and you’d be glad to be rid of it.”

“There are countless things that fit that description,” Dare said dryly, making them all laugh. “But I’m at a loss to think of one this moment that would be ... safe enough.”

“I think she’s right, and we shall have to think of something,” Shaylah said. “Thank you, Rina.”

The girl—young woman now—smiled. And Shaylah realized it had been a while since she’d seen that charming, impish smile.

Shaylah brought it up in a quiet aside to Califa as Rina went to refill her glass with the lingberry juice she loved.

“Is it my imagination, or is Rina a bit glum of late?”

“It’s that time of year. It always takes her that way.”

Shaylah felt remiss for forgetting, no matter how busy her days had been since the last attack.

“I had forgotten how close the anniversary was,” she said.

Califa nodded, glanced at the girl who was like a daughter to her. “Hard to believe how long it’s been since he held Galatin against all odds.”

“And since he went into the mountains and never came back.”

“Yes. Fifty to one odds and it still took them six days to kill him and the men he led.”

“I wish I had known him rather than of him,” Shaylah said.

Califa shook her head. “Be thankful.” She glanced at her mate, who was deep in conversation with Dare. “The loss is hard enough for those  who did.”

“Dax,” Shaylah said.

“I think he’d begun to think of him as a younger brother. They were much alike. But for Rina, who adored him as only a girl turning into a woman can, it is a wound that never heals.”

Shaylah sighed. This long, constant battle against the Coalition had taken much from them. Family, friends, and peace for their children.

“I think we need to take a day off,” she announced abruptly to the room.

Dax and Dare turned, startled. Rina cocked her head thoughtfully, looking more like one of the legendary pixies of the Triotian woodlands than ever despite the fact that she was an adult now. In truth, she’d grown up harder and faster than any of them. She’d had to.

“You have been working very hard,” Dare said, walking toward her.

“And accomplishing a lot,” Califa put in. “I saw that the school is nearly finished.”

Shaylah nodded but waved aside the compliments. Administering the rebuilding after Coalition attacks had become sadly routine. But it seemed too small a price to pay for the esteem and respect and position these people had given her. They had accepted her at first for Dare’s sake, but soon had warmed to the outworlder who had become their queen. She’d vowed never to take that for granted, and so far she thought she had succeeded.

“Don’t underestimate the importance,” Dax said as he joined them. “I can’t tell you what the sight of their queen down in the rubble working alongside them means to the people.”

“Throwing rocks seems to help my temper,” she said.

“And that, my queen,” Dare added, “seeing that you are as angry as they are, means even more to them.”

“But you, alive, strong, and returned to lead them means the most,” she said, slipping her arm around him. “I still think we need to take a day. Just for us, all of us, as a family.”

“Shaylah,” Dare began, and she could see he was going to say he couldn’t.

“Our children have never known peace,” she said before he could go on. “And while they have visited most of Trios as part of their education, they have never gone anywhere, to any of the beautiful places that survive, to simply enjoy being there.”

“It has not been safe enough,” Dax said.

“I know. But if they hold true to form—and that’s something the Coalition excels at—they won’t be back for another attack for at least ten days. The seven of us could slip out for just a day, unnoticed, if we went alone.”

Rina made a small sound, but when Shaylah looked at her she was studying the floor. The girl never seemed to get over being amazed at how they all considered her one of their joined family. It was, Shaylah thought, part of her considerable charm.

“It could be done,” Dare agreed, but he still sounded reluctant. Duty claimed this man like no other she had ever known. He was a leader in the finest sense, and she admired him nearly as much as she adored him.

And worried about him.

“Think of it, Dare. Just the people you love most, twenty-four hours with no demands, no decisions.”

He let out a breath and looked at the ceiling of the room. Shaylah knew it was to keep her from seeing just how much the idea appealed. She pressed her advantage, determined to see this man she so loved free of the burden for at least this short time.

“You deserve this. We all do. The children most of all. Especially if we’re going to put them to work when we return,” she added with a smile.

“Where were you thinking of going?” Califa asked, and something in her old friend’s voice told her she had her support in this. She felt a spark of relief; together, she and this premier tactician could get this done. She focused on Dare.

“I had in mind someplace that has escaped damage, despite it all, and continues to. And stands ready, with a dwelling built by your father’s own hand.”

Dare’s gaze snapped back to her. “Lake Geron.”

“Yes.”

“It’s only escaped damage because it’s bedamned hard to get to,” Dax pointed out.

Shaylah turned on the man who had become as a brother to her. “Are you saying you can’t do it, skypirate?”

Dare burst out laughing at Dax’s expression. “Oh, you know him too well, my love.”

“I’m just saying I could do it,” Shaylah retorted, hiding her joy at the rare sound of his laughter.

“As I well know,” Dare agreed.

For a moment their eyes locked, memories flowing between them. Their connection grew stronger with every passing year, until now, they barely had to speak if they were alone. They sensed each other’s every mood, and communicated on some level Shaylah had never known. She assumed it was part of bonding, and had been surprised to realize the old Triotian tradition, mocked in the halls of Coalition power, went much deeper than she’d ever realized. It was more than a physical and emotional connection; it was a joining of spirits as much as bodies.

And now she sensed the full strength of that duty pulling at him.

“I can’t leave the city,” he said. “If something should happen, if the Coalition returned—”

“Perhaps,” Califa said, her tone deceptively neutral as she interrupted the king without qualm, another measure of how far they’d come, “it might be a good test run for a certain new ship?”

Dax’s head snapped around as he focused on his mate. “The Star?”

Shaylah stifled a laugh; Califa, too, knew her own mate well. Nothing could have brought him more swiftly to their side than the temptation of a run in his new flagship, the latest incarnation of the Evening Star.

“It is nearly ready, is it not? Surely a small jaunt would be useful, for fine tuning.”

“Please, both of you,” Shaylah said. “Lay down the crown, and the flashbow, for just this one day. For all of us.”

“Let’s do it, Dax,” Rina chimed in. “I’ve barely had a chance to be aboard her, I’ve been stuck in Freylan’s classes so long.”

“And doing wonderfully,” Califa said. The girl had had a lot of catching up to do. Her life with the sector’s most infamous skypirate had been wild and dangerous and no doubt exciting, but it hadn’t run to basic education. Dax had done his best for the situation, making her read what tomes he had available, and had assigned her to a sort of apprenticeship to every crew member to learn their skills, but he was no teacher.

As much as she complained, Shaylah had a feeling she was soaking it all up eagerly still, years after Dax had brought her home. Freylan had reported her to be a quick, smart learner, although he had protested mightily when, in the middle of her lessons on Triotian history Rina had insisted on accompanying Dax to Arellia when the rebellion had broken out there and Dare had sent the flashbow warrior and his mate to help.

“The Evening Star is not flying without me,” she’d said flatly. And given she had a unique talent that made her one of the best weapons aboard any ship, she’d won that battle.

“It would be a good chance to see how she handles,” Dax said now. “And to test out Paraclon’s water landing system.”

“Well, that ought to drown us all,” Dare said. “You know how his first try at anything never works quite as expected.”

“But his next try is always amazing. And I’ll let you all off on dry land first,” Dax added generously.

“Kind of you,” Dare said.

“Dare, listen,” Dax said. “Heating’s not an issue now, so we can leave the long range sensors working with the shields at half strength, and one cannon at the ready. If we take the Star and something happens, I can get us back here before they’re within firing range.”

Shaylah felt the moment when the tide shifted. This man was Dare’s most trusted friend—the brother he’d never had—and his voice was the weight needed.

“All right,” Dare said at last. “If we go now. In the morning.”

Bless you, Dax
Silverbrake.

“Let’s tell the children,” Califa said.

“Rina, why don’t you tell them?” Shaylah suggested.

The girl grinned widely. “My pleasure, your highness.”

That quickly, she darted out of the room. Califa looked at Shaylah. “Thank you for that.”

“None needed. It was worth it to see her perk up.”

“Now let’s go pack.”

“Pack?” Dax looked puzzled. “We’re only going overnight.”

“With two children,” Califa pointed out.

“Four, if you count them,” Shaylah gestured at their mates.

Dax scowled, but Dare smiled. “Yes, Captain,” he said softly. “You just may have four on your hands. I hope you don’t regret this.”

* * *

“DO YOU HAVE to do that all the time?” Shaina complained, scrunching up her face as her mother leaned over and kissed her father as he sat at the controls of the new ship. Shaylah smothered a laugh.

“Mine are worse,” Lyon said. “You’d think a king and queen would be more ... more ...” He struggled for an appropriate word and apparently couldn’t find one in his young vocabulary.

“Never.”

Dare said it to his son, but he was looking at Shaylah. There had been much for the king to do before leaving, and so there had been little time for themselves last night. But he’d promised, in a whispering against her ear before he fell into an exhausted sleep, that there would be hours for them soon. She felt her cheeks color as her body responded to merely the thought. It never faded, this instant, heated need for him.

“See?” Lyon asked with some indignance. “They’re always like that.”

“So are mine. Ew.” Shaina’s face scrunched even further.

“How do you think you both got here, scalawags?” Rina teased.

Califa turned to look at the children, one arm still draped over her mate’s shoulder.

“Indeed. And we plan on embarrassing you both until we’re old and wizened.”

Lyon and Shaina groaned out loud, and Rina laughed. She’d been much cheered since they’d decided to do this, and Shaylah wished she’d thought of it sooner for the girl’s sake as well as Dare’s.

“Rina? About time to plan our approach through the canyon,” Dax said.

“I already did,” she said, walking over to the nav station. “I studied the chart last night. Just in case Paraclon’s new projector didn’t work.”

“Wise,” Dare said, his mouth quirking.

Shaylah smiled. Rina was the first exact navigator she’d ever met, but she’d heard of them for years. People who could hold charts of entire systems in their minds after a mere moment’s study, and who could translate that into minute adjustments in course and trajectory, setting huge ships down in spaces that seemed far too dangerous, and threading smaller ships through the eye of the needle mentioned in the old Triotian proverbs.

“Then take her in,” Dax said.

Rina’s eyes widened. “Me?”

“You’ve done it on the old ship, you can do it now. She’s quicker, so you’ll have to go a little easier.”

“But—”

“The controls at the nav station are the same, just more precise. You do it as you’ve always done, just set the course in your mind and trust your hands to make the adjustments.”

“But this is your sort of flying.”

“And I would never risk it without you at nav. So you get the honors this time. You get us there, and I’ll set her down.”

She still seemed stunned that he was trusting his brand new flagship to her. “You mean it?”

“She’s all yours. Let’s find out how good she really is.”

Rina stared at him silently for a moment, but Shaylah had learned to read this child of her heart, and she saw the excitement building in her. And then she realized Dax’s game. Realized he knew perfectly well that this girl he had loved and guarded from the moment he’d found her hiding from the Coalition in a dark, damp cave, was in pain right now. And he’d done the perfect thing about it. She wanted to hug him for it.

“Aye, cap’n,” Rina whispered, and turned to the navigation controls.

Dax seemed to sense Shaylah’s gaze and looked over at her. She smiled softly, and with full intent, bowed her head to him. From his friend, the smile was thanks. From his queen, the bow was a salute, a sign of utmost respect.

When she lifted her head again Dax had lowered his gaze, but she saw in his face the acknowledgement of what she had done. A moment later she felt her mate’s arm slip around her shoulders, in his own kind of acknowledgement.

“You are,” he said quietly, “a queen worthy of Trios.”

She knew that from him there was no higher praise, and she leaned into him in silent thanks.

Dax’s faith in Rina proved well-placed, although even he drew back a fraction when the girl slid them past an outcropping of rock that seemed to loom far too close to the front viewport. The ship was indeed quick, and before Shaylah had time to marvel at the speed with which they were traversing the narrow canyon, they burst into free air above a deep, crystal clear lake ringed by fields of undamaged Triotian grass and tall, regal trees.

Dax whooped. Dare muttered something about next time coming in like a sane person, from above and not through the canyon. Shaylah’s chest tightened with the certainty that this had been the perfect thing to do.

Rina pulled back from the station and grinned, clearly exhilarated.

“Controls to you, cap’n,” she said, pride echoing in her voice, and for the moment, the shadow was gone.

“I have the controls,” Dax answered.

True to his promise he went for land first. The new Evening Star flared, pivoted—he was seeing that she was ready to take off headed the right direction if that emergency should arise, Shaylah realized—and then began to lower. Dax set the ship down so precisely and lightly in the field in front of the lodge that it took a moment for Shaylah’s sense of motion to assure her they had indeed landed.

Before he’d shut down the engines the children were on their feet, heading for the door. Dax grinned at them and hit the lever that released the hatch. With a smooth whoosh, the door opened and lowered. Lyon and Shaina were outside before it touched ground, leaping clear and rolling in the thick grass with delight. Rina followed, jumping herself even though the ramp was down by then. The laughter of all three of them echoed across the clearing as they headed for the lake to test the water.

“They do know there’s not a screen to be had here, nor holo-projectors?” Dax said.

“They do,” Dare said. “My father held this place for respite from that, as well as the demands of his position.”

“And respite we shall have,” Shaylah said, looking at her mate as he watched the children, a slow, warm smile curving his lips.

“You are ever the wisest,” Califa said to Shaylah as she looked from Dare to the three who seemed of an age now. “And in present company,” she added, glancing back at Dare again, “that is saying a great deal.”

Shaylah’s chest tightened again. Let us have this moment, she thought. Just this moment, without shadow, without fear. Let it pass with no urgent call to return, no signal of imminent attack. Let us have this and we shall have the heart to go on, to keep this beautiful world safe, to rebuild her, repair her, and turn her once more into the jewel of a galaxy.

* * *

“I THANK YOU, my queen.”

Dax dropped down on the grass beside her as she watched the children and Rina, and even Califa, splash gleefully in the crystal clear, sun-warmed water of the shallows as Dare stood in the warm sun and watched with obvious enjoyment.

“It was a good idea, wasn’t it?” she said, ignoring his teasing form of address.

“It was indeed. But that is not what I offer thanks for. It is a rare ruler who would bow to a skypirate.”

She turned to look at him then. His eyes, soft jade compared to Dare’s vivid green, were fixed on her. “I saluted you, Dax. Skypirate, flashbow warrior, my best friend’s mate ... and the man who saw what someone he loves needed, and provided it. I’ve never given you anything you haven’t earned.”

“I would argue that,” he said, his mouth quirking into a wry smile. “But I’ve never forgotten and never will that it was you who turned the tide long ago, when my life was in the balance. It was you who first rose and stood beside us that day.”

“You have repaid me many times over, by saving the soul of my dearest friend, who I feared forever lost to me.”

Dax’s gaze shifted to the lake, and she saw by the change in his expression when he had focused on his mate. “It was my soul that was saved.”

“That you both came home to us is one of the greatest miracles Trios will ever know.”

From the lake, Califa let out a joyous burst of laughter as she helped Rina, Lyon, and Shaina stack themselves up foot on shoulder, and then dodged as they toppled into the water with squeals of silly delight.

“I think I shall have to build that pool I’ve been thinking about,” Dax said.

Shaylah knew what he meant. It wasn’t simply for the children or play, but that Califa’s leg troubled her little in water, and she could swim as well as ever, with no sign of the old injury that sometimes made her limp no matter how hard she worked to keep it strong.

“I know just the spot,” she said. “On the south side of the palace, along the wall. It would get the heat of the sun most of the day, and with the palace wall right there, it would stay warmer longer.”

“Perfect,” Dax agreed. “If the royal family will allow it, of course.”

“On one condition,” she said, putting on her most queenly air. “The Defense Minister—or his reckless daughter—must not look upon it as an opportunity to see if it’s possible to jump from the ramparts into the pool.”

Dax drew back in mock horror. “Are you saying I’m a bad influence?”

“I’m saying she’s her father’s daughter.”

Dax’s expression changed abruptly. All amusement vanished. And when he spoke, his voice was as dark, as shadowed as she’d ever heard from him. “And because of that, her future will never be what I’d hoped for her.”

This wasn’t the first time she had sensed some darkness in him when it came to his little girl. But before she could probe further Dare joined them, prompting Califa to abandon the cool waters to the youngsters and Rina.

The four of them sat in companionable silence, watching their family. Shaylah sat quietly, enjoying the novelty of the king and the flashbow warrior stretched out barefoot in the sun.

Finally even Rina gave up on the energetic horseplay and left the water to join them, as Lyon and Shaina began a competition.

“I’m getting old,” she said in an exaggerated whine.

“You’re Triotian,” Dax retorted. “Talk to me in another century or two.”

Rina laughed and settled down into the grass. Like many Triotians, she automatically reached out to pass her fingers over the thick, living carpet. Shaylah saw the movement, and remembered Wolf’s reaction when she’d first brought him home and they’d come across a patch of the stuff. It had been her first true inkling of how much every element of this remarkable planet meant to him.

Lyon let out a whoop as he won the short race out to the large rock several yards off shore.

“It’s good to see him play,” Dare said softly. “He’s so serious most of the time.”

“It’s his nature,” Shaylah said.

“And he feels the weight,” Califa added.

“The weight?” Dax asked.

“Of his future.”

Shaylah saw something flicker in Dax’s eyes again, the same thing she’d seen earlier when he’d spoken of Shaina’s future. But he looked away, out toward the children, and the moment passed.

“Do you ever think about ... the predictions? That they are destined to be bonded mates?” Rina asked, staring at the pair. When silence met her, she shifted her gaze back to them. “I know, we’re not supposed to talk about it when they’re around, but they’re far enough away.”

“It would be a good match, I think,” Dax said.

“Just what I was thinking,” Rina agreed. “A perfect balance. Shaina, so brave and clever and reckless, and Lyon so brave and wise and thoughtful.”

“But we agreed we would have no one push them toward it. If it is to be, it will happen on its own,” Califa said.

“I do think about it,” Shaylah said, “but only in the sense that were it to happen, our families would be bound forever, and I like that.”

Califa smiled. “As do I.”

“We are already bound forever,” Dare said. “You do not come so close to losing everything and everyone who matters and not bind them to you as closely as possible when you regain them.”

A moment of solemn silence reigned before Dax broke it. “And that wisdom is why you’re the king, and the rest of us merely your humble servants,” he said with a grin and a mock bow.

“Humble? You?” Dare laughed, a full, deep-throated laugh. “The man who practically set off pyroflares the one time you beat me”—he gestured at the rock the children were swimming back from now—”in that race when we were children?”

“One time? I beat you three times!”

“Your memory is as warped as your instinct for self-preservation.”

“If your royalness will recall, I only let you win that first time because it was your birthday.”

“And I you on yours, so those don’t count. And you only won that last trip because you ignored my father calling us back.”

Dax looked vaguely uncomfortable at that. “He did say he wasn’t the king on that trip. But I would have won anyway.”

“Keep believing that if you must.”

“Truth,” Dax said. “I’ll prove it.”

Dare eyed his brother in all but blood warily. “Oh?”

Dax leapt up, grinning. “Race you,” he said.

Dare was on his feet in an instant. He yanked his shirt over his head as Dax did the same. Not for the first time she thought of the difference between them, Dare’s scars, other than the ones at his wrists and ankles from long ago chains, were buried more deeply. Dax’s were visible; he had been wounded more than once in his career as the skypirate who had terrorized the Coalition, and the thin, criss-crossing lines on his back were mute testimony to what he’d gone through, what he’d risked.

She glanced at Rina, knowing the reminder those scars were. He had taken that flogging for her, putting himself, albeit in disguise, in enemy hands in an effort to find out what had happened to her mother. He had not only learned she had been murdered by the Coalition long ago, but had nearly ended up dead himself. All for a child he barely knew anything about, except that she was Triotian.

He would do the same for any of them, she thought. As would Dare. And Rina, Califa, she herself.

She laughed as the two men, for this moment in time back to the children they had been, challenging each other constantly, raced into the water. Lyon and Shaina had reached the shore, and now stood there staring at their fathers, looking more than a little startled.

“It is worth more than any gold to see them like this,” Califa said.

Shaylah looked at her old colleague, fellow officer. “Yes,” she agreed.

“Right now war and the Coalition are the last things on their minds,” Rina said. “And the children’s, too.”

“They do carry such weight,” Shaylah said, thinking of Califa’s words. “It cannot be easy, being the children of two such men, living legends as they say.”

“Not to mention their mothers,” Rina said pointedly.

Shaylah laughed.

“It is good to see you laugh as well,” Califa said. “Being queen becomes you, but it is a heavy burden.”

“Today,” Shaylah said, “I am not a queen, nor Dare a king. It will all be there when we return, and we will begin again, but for today ... let’s just be this family.”

“Agreed,” Califa and Rina said simultaneously. They all three laughed.

The race was a tie.

* * *

“THEY NEVER RUN out of energy, do they?” Dax’s tone was dry as they scrambled up over a pile of rocks that was partially blocking the trail. So much, he thought, for a restful afternoon.

“Would that we could borrow some of it on occasion,” Dare agreed.

Shaina and Lyon ran ahead, as usual. Warnings to stay within sight were heeded for a short while each time, but then something would catch their eager attention and they’d be off again, leaving their fathers to catch up.

“I think our mates were wise to stay behind,” Dax muttered as he spotted the two scamps up ahead.

“They deal with it enough at home. More than we do.”

“Yes.” Dax grinned. “For a fighter pilot and a tactical genius, they make very good mothers.”

They were long past the stage where references to their lives before were uncomfortable. Dare only smiled; that smile that always showed when he thought of his mate.

“Did you ever think we’d wind up like this, chasing two little rapscallions through the mountains?” Dax asked.

“I never dared hope,” Dare said quietly. “Especially after ... Brielle.”

Dax looked at his king. He rarely spoke the name, except on her birthday, when tradition ordained a memorial tribute. They had only once spoken of it, when Dare had rather coldly told him what had happened. Dax knew him well enough to know the coldness was the only way he could get the words out.

“I loved her, Dax,” he said quietly. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I do,” he said.

“I still think of her, though I do not speak of it.”

“As do I. She was my sister. She ever will be.”

“I know.”

Dax studied Dare’s face for a moment. “I do not hold it to your account, Dare. You did what she wanted. What you had to do. She would have died anyway, and in a much more painful, ugly, horrible way, at the hands of masters of brutality.”

“Yes. But she was my bonded mate, to be the mother of my children. It pains me still.”

Dax felt the old, familiar pang. He’d long ago stopped trying to quash it. Rina had taught him that.

“Rina told me once, when I found her weeping in her quarters, that the pain was the only thing that made her parents still seem real to her. Funny how children can teach us things.”

Dare went quiet as they caught up once more, only to have Shaina and Lyon spot something else and dash off to investigate.

“For a long time I had thought I would never be able to father a child,” he said after a moment.

Dax stopped mid-stride. He turned and looked at his oldest and closest friend. “What?”

“The Coalition ... took steps. It would have been inconvenient for them if their slaves were capable of breeding.”

Dax’s breath caught. “They ... did something to you? You never told me.”

“Not something I wished to trumpet. And as it turned out”—he glanced at the boy ahead of them, now carefully inspecting yet another rock fall—”my worry was needless.”

Dax followed his glance. “Yes. It was. He’s an amazing boy, Dare.”

“Yes.”

“He will be an amazing leader, when the time comes.”

Dax knew that Dare was ever conscious of the burden his son would one day bear and how determined he was that the boy would have the tools he needed. Yet at the same time he wished for him to have some bit of carefree childhood, as much as could be managed in a time of war and constant vigilance. It was a fine balance, but the proof of success was just ahead of them, in the boy who showed every evidence he would become as fine a king as his father now was. Already he had the clever mind and the ability and willingness to learn. Most of all he had his father’s strength of character; the strength that had enabled him to survive where most had not.

“Yes, he will be,” Dare said. Then with a wry expression, added, “But I hope to put that off for some time.”

Dax laughed. “You’re good for another century or so. Longer, if your genes run true.”

“A much more pleasant prospect, now that we know our mates will be beside us,” Dare said.

“Bless Larcos for figuring that out. Until he found that link to the water, I thought it was just coincidence that outworlders live longer here.”

Dax knew both of them had made peace with the fact that Triotians lived longer than Arellians. They’d had to. They’d lived with the certainty—they thought—that if they survived the constant battles with the Coalition, one day they would have to survive without the women who had made the fight worth it. But the few outworlders here showed no signs of aging at what would be their normal rate on their home worlds. Including Shaylah and Califa.

It had been a mystery until the former medical officer from Dax’s crew had linked the gifted longevity with the water supply—a secret no one other than Larcos and the four of them knew. There was, Dare had decreed almost immediately, no point in giving the Coalition yet another reason to come back to Trios in full force. Every outworlder was already getting the benefits anyway.

“Good,” Dax had said at the time. “Coalition thugs live too bedamned long already.”

“They’re only averaging about forty years these days,” Califa had said with some satisfaction.

“As I said,” he’d replied, making her smile.

He was proud of her. She fought more fiercely now for Trios than she ever had for the Coalition, despite being one of their most honored officers. As did Shaylah.

“For whatever it might be worth,” Dax said, “While I loved my sister, I cannot picture you with anyone other than Shaylah.”

This time it was Dare who stopped mid-stride. He turned to look at him. “It is worth,” he said, his voice low, “more than you can imagine, my brother.”

They continued on, keeping the children in sight with an effort. They at last reached the goal, the ledge called the lookout, where one could stand and look out over mountains as far as one could see. To their left they looked out over Lake Geron, a small sapphire set amid the rocky peaks. Dare called out a caution to the children to stay back until they checked the edge. It appeared to have endured as always and was as solid as ever under their feet.

As soon as they turned their attention to the view, Dax wished that they hadn’t come at all. Because from here the magnitude of the damage done by the Coalition was clearly visible. The land was scarred, in places still blackened, as if the original invasion had happened days instead of years ago. Trios was recovering, but it was a slow process and many places were still uninhabitable. And while her resources were nearly infinite, much was now inaccessible thanks to the rubble left behind.

Dax knew it was a constant battle for Dare. So many had died at Coalition hands—only a quarter of Trios’s once thriving population had survived. The desire to repopulate was strong, yet until they were able to support a larger populace that was inviting problems. So while Dare was not the sort of leader to make decrees about people’s personal lives, he led by example; Lyon was his only child, and he had explained to the people why. Dax had followed with only Shaina, and that had pounded home the message. The people had responded in kind, realizing they must proceed slowly. A sad thing, Dax thought. Dare should have a flock of children to bring up in the noble tradition of his house.

While he himself, he thought wryly, probably should have foregone it altogether. But that would mean never having had Shaina, and for all that her life would not be what he had hoped and imagined for her, he would not have missed the presence of his quicksilver girl in his life for anything.

He thought once more about telling her, of revealing the truth he had kept hidden. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Especially now, when she was delighting in simply being a child. Shaylah, as wise as her mate, had been right; this was needed, by all of them.

Perhaps Dare most of all, he thought as he looked at the king.

In the act of shifting his gaze something caught his attention. He looked up, thought he’d imagined it, and then spotted it again. Dax’s eyes were used to the far reaches, and he tracked the slow, lazy circling bird easily once he had it. He stared for a moment, uncertain. It was far away, and high, and hard to tell. But then the bird banked, slipped toward them, and the distinctive tail shape snapped into focus.

“Dare,” he breathed, barely above a whisper although the bird was far too high to be concerned about them. Not that the regal creature would deign to notice their presence anyway.

Dare turned his head. “What?”

“Look. To the west. Seventy-five degrees above the horizon. Circling.”

It took him a moment, but Dax felt the moment when he spotted it, saw the jolt go through him.

“A kingbird,” Dare whispered. He watched for a moment, in clearly stunned silence. “I thought they were gone.”

“We all did.”

The big, majestic bird with the striking black and white coloring and V-shaped tail continued his circling, his massive wingspread catching every bit of breeze at that altitude. Dax felt his throat tighten at the sight. So much had been lost, so much damage done, and yet here it was, this magnificent creature that was a symbol of Trios, a symbol thought lost to her forever.

In that way he had of sensing things of import, Lyon abandoned their game of trying to name the mountains they could see from here and came back to them. Inseparable as always, Shaina followed; for all her being the one to usually lead them into mischief, it was as if she sensed when Lyon led, it mattered.

“What is it?” Lyon asked

Dare gave the signal for quiet, something they had been taught to obey from near babyhood, with the strictness enforced by the knowledge that someday their lives could depend on it. He crouched down beside his son and pointed. Dax swung Shaina up on his shoulders—her preferred spot. It took the two children longer to find it, since they had only seen the bird in pictures, but when they did they were properly awed.

“I thought the Coalition killed them all,” Shaina said.

“They thought they killed all of us, too,” Lyon answered.

The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and again Dax thought that this boy was going to make a great leader some day.

“Indeed they did,” Dare said softly. “And yet here we are.”

“And they are not,” Dax agreed.

“Someday they won’t be anywhere,” Shaina said confidently.

“If good people stand strong,” Dare said, watching the bird as it circled.

It was edging ever closer, each loop overlapping slightly until it was nearly overhead. Suddenly it shifted, with the slightest adjustment of guiding feathers slipped downward. Since even a kingbird was a bit small to consider them a meal, no one flinched, merely stared. The bird had apparently decided they were not a threat, and slid on an eddy of breeze down to barely twenty feet above them. Its curved beak and formidable talons were clear now, as was the slight cock of its head as it looked at them.

Dax found himself holding his breath. It was unusual for a kingbird to acknowledge earthbound creatures except for prey. Even the children seemed to realize the power of the moment and stayed silent, watching as the bird came ever closer.

The bird made another pass, dropping lower. It flew toward them, with intent that seemed undeniable. The kingbird swooped so close Dax would swear he could feel the wind stirred by its mighty wings. At the last second it shifted again, this time shooting straight up in a move that seemed counter to the laws of objects in the air. Up it went, then, incredibly, it rolled and came back to nearly brush them again.

And then it was soaring, surging upward, and Dax got the strangest feeling that he knew what the bird was feeling, the sheer joy of the power of its own flight. Up it went, climbing ever higher into the blue, spring sky, until it was merely a speck in the distance.

“I think,” Dax said softly, “you’ve just been saluted, your highness.”

Dare’s mouth quirked at that bit of whimsy. “He did seem to be telling us something, but I doubt that was it.”

“He was telling us,” Lyon said solemnly, “that he’s still here. We thought he and all of them were gone, but they’re still here. Like we are. And always will be.”

“I think he’s telling us Trios is coming back, and to keep fighting,” Shaina said rather militantly.

For a moment the two men simply looked at these children they had produced. Then they looked at each other, each allowing a bit of the quiet awe they were feeling show.

“I think,” Dax said after a moment, “you two are too smart for your own good.”

Shaina grinned, while Lyon merely smiled with that way he had of making you think there was great wisdom in that young heart.

“And I think,” Dare said as he looked into his son’s eyes, “that bodes very well for Trios.”

They made the return trip down the mountain more hopeful than any of them had been for a long while.

* * *

“OUR QUEEN,” DAX said teasingly as he added the log Rina handed him to the fire on the hearth, “doesn’t mind somewhat rustic living here, since at home she is amid utter chaos.”

“We do well enough,” Shaylah said. “The people need their homes restored first. Completion of the palace repairs can wait.”

“You deserve better,” Dare said.

“I am with you,” she answered simply. “There is nothing better.”

She had the pleasure of seeing him stopped dead. He swallowed tightly, and she thought tonight might be interesting, here in this place so removed from the pressure and toll of his daily responsibilities. Especially after he’d told her of the wonder of seeing that symbol of Trios, the kingbird, today. Somehow, in a way someone not born here probably couldn’t quite understand, that discovery had heartened him greatly.

“Well said,” Califa added softly, with a look at Dax that had him shifting a bit awkwardly, although he was smiling.

“We are the luckiest of men, are we not, my friend?” Dare said, recovering.

“Indeed.”

Rina had withdrawn into the shadows to one side of the stone fireplace. She made no teasing remark about the love talk, as she once would have. Shaylah sighed, wishing she could ease the girl’s sadness.

Silence drew out for a bit before Dax shifted his gaze from the fire on the hearth to Dare. “You’re sure about that Council Hall cornerstone?”

“Yes. I want it to remain.”

“I would have thought you would want all sign of the Coalition’s destruction of the capitol cleared away,” Califa said.

“That was my first thought,” Dare agreed. “But we cannot forget the power and cruelty of the enemy. We can never tell ourselves they are not as evil as they are.”

“So you want it as a reminder,” Dax said.

“Yes. Almost everyone in Triotia passes that spot regularly. I want everyone to remember who we lost, and why.”

“I see your—”

Dax’s words broke off at a loud crash from upstairs. The four parents exchanged rueful, knowing glances.

“I knew we should have sent them to bed,” Califa said.

“Whose turn is it?” Dare asked.

“Mine, I believe,” Shaylah said and got to her feet.

“A little leniency, I think?” Dax suggested. “We are on a retreat.”

“Agreed. I promise not to string up the little imps,” she said with a laugh.

She found them where they had been for the last hour, in the small yet seemingly full attic of the lodge. Dare had said he wasn’t sure of all that was stored away in there, but was fairly certain there was nothing lethal. Breakable was another question, one she feared had just been answered with that crash.

She negotiated the ladder to the attic quickly, calling out as soon as her shoulders were clear of the opening. “What are you two up to, or should I not ask?”

“Nothing bad,” Shaina answered swiftly, her voice allowing Shaylah to place them in the far right corner.

“Does that equal nothing broken?” she asked as she pulled herself up and to her feet.

“Um ... not exactly.” The girl’s voice was less certain now.

“It was my fault, Mother,” Lyon said as she approached. “I didn’t want her to fall climbing up there”—he gestured toward the rafters at what was apparently some kind of floating platform for the lake—”so I pulled over that chair for her to stand on.”

Shaylah had to hold back a laugh. This was so typical, Shaina initiating the act that got them into trouble, and Lyon reasonably explaining their way out of it.

Lyon went on with his calm explanation. “I didn’t realize the chair was holding up that box. That’s what made all the noise, when it fell. It was heavy.”

“Who keeps a box of rocks, anyway?” Shaina muttered. She looked up at what had been her goal, clearly perturbed that her exploration had been curtailed.

“Maybe these papers say,” Lyon said, digging into the items—mostly rocks, as Shaina had observed—that had spilled out of the small wooden box. “No, they’re just some strange drawings, like Paraclon’s diagrams only on old paper,” he said after a moment, in obvious disappointment. He went back to slowly gathering up the rocks.

“If you want to inspect those, gather them up for in the morning. It’s time for you two rascals to get some rest.”

The usual complaints came, especially fervent tonight given that they had to return home tomorrow.

“We don’t have to leave until afternoon, so you’ll have all morning. Unless you get confined to quarters, of course.”

With mutual sighs they gave in. Shaina put the chair back out of the way as Lyon picked up the box. She had the feeling he would be inspecting those rocks yet tonight, in the bunk room they were sharing, but since she knew it took a while for his ever agile mind to slow down after an exciting day, that seemed as good a way as any.

“Tucked in, although I’d wager they’ll not be sleeping for a bit,” Shaylah said when she was back downstairs and settled happily in Wolf’s arms before the fire. She found herself thinking of him as Wolf again here, away from it all. She didn’t think he’d mind. She called him that in their most intimate moments, and it only fired him to further heights of passion.

“What broke?” Califa asked resignedly.

Shaylah laughed. Even Rina chuckled. “Nothing, actually. They knocked over a box of rocks someone collected.”

“Rocks?” Dax asked.

“Yes.” She held out the folded papers to Dare. “These were in with them. I think I recognize the hand.”

Dare took them, looked at the first one, then let out a quiet breath. “Yes. My father. He was always foraging about up here and making notes. He seemed to like doing it the old way, with scriber and paper.”

No one spoke. Likely, Shaylah thought, because no one could think of what to say about the king who had been so brutally slain as an example to the people of Trios who had refused to accept that they had been conquered by the Coalition.

“I will look at them tomorrow,” Dare said after a moment, setting them aside. “Not tonight.”

Shaylah sighed inwardly in relief. He truly had gotten into the spirit of this, setting aside all cares for this short interlude of peace.

There was a burst of laughter from upstairs. Rina got up. “I’ll go say goodnight. Perhaps I can get them to settle.”

When quiet finally reigned from the children’s room, Dax made a rather obviously manufactured excuse and took his clearly willing mate up to the room they were to share. They stopped to look in on the children, Dax leaned back to give Dare an all clear signal, then the pair vanished.

“I believe,” Dare said with a barely suppressed laugh, “my Defense Minister has designs on that woman.”

“I think it is the flashbow warrior Califa will be dealing with tonight,” Shaylah said with a smile, leaning against him in pure contentment.

Dare slipped his arms around her, drawing her closer. “This trip was a very, very good idea, my love.”

“Thank you.”

“I had not realized how much it was needed.”

“And when would you have time to?”

“I have much more time than I would have if my stalwart queen was not by my side.”

“As she always will be, my king.”

He lowered her head, pressed a kiss to her ear. “Tonight,” he suggested huskily, “I would prefer to simply be your Wolf.”

“Oh, you are always my Wolf,” she whispered back, and turned to press her lips to his.

* * *

“WHAT WAS HE working on?”

Dax spoke quietly. The subject of Dare’s father was always painful. He had grown up knowing what a good and noble man he was, and his ugly, brutal death and desecration was a painful memory for all Triotians. For Dax the pain and loss was more than that of most Triotians. The royal house of Trios and the Silverbrakes had long been aligned, and the man had been like a second father to him. They had become even closer when he’d become the next flashbow warrior.

And that brought him to the guilt. If he hadn’t been gone—

Stop it. You did what you thought you had to at the time.

He almost smiled as Califa’s oft spoken words echoed in his head. And she was right. Guilt was a useless emotion, unless it drove you to make changes. And his certainly had.

“It appears to be in two parts,” Dare said, looking at the drawings spread out across the table. “One some sort of extractor, the other a power converter. But I can’t tell what it’s converting.”

Dax leaned over to scan the diagrams. “Any ideas? You know if it doesn’t fly or shoot, I’m no help.”

Dare gave him a sideways look, one corner of his mouth quirking upward. “Then it’s fortunate you’re so bedamned good at those.”

Dax grinned. “Makes me worth keeping around.”

“Many, many things accomplish that.” Califa spoke from behind him, and the low rumble of a well satisfied woman in her voice made him smile.

“I’d be happy to demonstrate again,” he offered as he pulled her into his arms, fighting the urge to take her right back to bed even after the night they’d had. For the moment he settled for a kiss, which only strengthened the urge.

“Don’t let me get in the way.” Dare’s voice was laced with dry amusement.

“Before you laugh,” Califa said with a wide smile, “I should tell you I have seen your mate this morning. She looks like a leecat who’s found a permanent patch of sun and a lifetime of sweet milk.”

Dax burst out laughing at Dare’s expression. “Oh, you’ve done it now, snowfox. Don’t you know you’re not supposed to embarrass a king?”

“If we don’t, who will?” she asked lightly. “Besides, he looks rather smug, don’t you think? For that matter, so do you.”

“As well they both should,” Shaylah said as she approached them. Dax had glimpsed her coming downstairs, but had said nothing when she had paused to simply watch them. He knew how much it meant to her that Califa and Dare had so thoroughly put the past behind them. The exchange he’d overheard shortly after they’d returned from Arellia flashed through his mind.

Your mate is the most forgiving of men.

He is, but you have earned it. And he knows this.

He didn’t quite understand it, but he knew that friendship between women was a different thing, fluid, requiring maintenance and effort. He’d told Califa once he was glad men didn’t require such work.

“I see,” she’d said, in that tone that he’d learned early on meant he was about to get a sizeable lesson. “Is that why you take such care never to laugh at old Paraclon? Why you never forget Glendar’s birthday? Or Rox’s, Larc’s, Nelcar’s? Why you make sure every man who was ever on your crew is well and not in want, even if they no longer fly with you?”

He tightened his arms around her now, as Shaylah went to stand behind Dare, draping her arms over his shoulders.

“Have you deciphered your father’s intent?” she asked.

“I see what it is meant to do, but not with what.”

Shaylah studied the papers for a moment. “Some kind of power system?”

Dare flashed his mate a smile. Shaylah was, Califa had always said, very clever when it came to mechanical things.

“So it appears. By these figures, it would seem to be quite efficient, creating a great deal of power out of a small amount of raw material. But there’s nothing here that indicates what raw material it converts.”

Shaylah scanned the diagrams again. She reached out and tugged at one that had slipped behind the largest. She frowned at the sketch on the page. It was of an irregularly edged three-dimensional object spattered with dark shapes.

“It’s a rock,” Dax said helpfully. “Not much help.”

“And yet King Galen felt strongly enough to draw it, in some detail,” Califa said. The respect in her tone when she said the late king’s name earned her a smile from Dare.

“And the rest of it,” Shaylah said. “He came here for respite, did he not? And yet he spent much time on this.”

“Yes.” Dare turned back to the drawings. “So he must have thought it important.”

Dax wondered for a moment what it must feel like for Dare, to look at these things drawn and written by his father’s hand. He had little left of his own family, their home had been destroyed and most of their belongings with it. He had a hologram or two, and of course the little white snowfox he’d recovered, carved exquisitely out of Triotian marble by a delicate hand. He—

“Fair warning!” Rina’s words echoed down the staircase as she ran lightly down. “They’re up and about, and ready to go at the world anew.”

Dax looked at her. She seemed to have shaken off the melancholy, and her laughter made him grin back at her.

“What’s all this?” she asked as she halted beside them, giving Califa a morning hug and him a warm smile. For an instant the image of the child he’d found in that cave, cowering against the dank wall, bruised, dirty and frightened, with the image of her father sacrificing his life to allow her to escape still haunting her, flashed through his mind. That was, he thought wryly, the bad side of time to relax. It also meant time to think. Too much time.

Dare explained the drawings to her. Dax felt anew the tightness in his chest at his king’s demeanor. He had accepted Rina from the moment he heard her story, and learned she was the only survivor of her family.

All Triotians are your family now Rina. But I would take it as a great blessing were you to consider us your home.

Those words, spoken so gently to a wary, skittish girl, had told Dax more than anything just how far Dare had come. Had told him he would be a king perhaps greater than his father, who was counted among the greatest.

He had, Dax thought now, underestimated.

The noisy clatter on the stairs proved Rina’s warning true. The energy in the room suddenly changed as two livewire, excited children raced over to see what all the adults were clustered over.

“Oh. Those drawings,” Shaina said, sounding disappointed.

“Respect, my girl,” Dax said. “Those drawings were by the hand of King Galen.”

“Oh.” Her tone was instantly very different. She looked at Dare. “I’m sorry. They were really done by him?”

Dare smiled at her genuine contriteness. “Yes.”

“What are they supposed to be?” This from Lyon, who had clambered into his father’s lap to get a closer look.

Again, patiently, Dare explained. And ended as before, wondering what the design was supposed to utilize to produce the power it clearly was meant for.

“Why is this with it?” Shaina asked, pointing at the sketch.

“Another thing I don’t know,” Dare said. Dax wondered if there was another royal anywhere so honest as to freely admit such a thing.

Lyon was staring at the drawing, frowning. “Wait,” he said, and scrambled down. He dashed for the stairs, making as much racket as the two of them had coming down. Dax looked at Shaina, who shrugged, clearly claiming ignorance of what her companion was up to.

Moments later Lyon was back, a fist-sized rock in one hand, and something else Dax couldn’t see in the other.

“See? This is that.” Lyon set the rock on the table next to the drawing. And it was clearly the same sort of rock, complete with the dark splotches shown in the sketch. Except Dax could see now that the dark spots appeared much different than the surrounding stone. Even as he thought it Dare reached out to touch it, pressing a finger down on one of those spots.

“It gives,” he said.

Dax followed suit. The dark blotch indeed gave slightly beneath the pressure of his finger.

“Strange,” Dare said.

“They must be connected,” Califa said. “The stone and the design, I mean. Why else would he have stored them together?”

“I agree,” Dare said. “But why, I have no—”

“I do!”

Lyon’s exclamation silenced them all. He lifted his other hand and showed them what had been hidden before. Now that Dax could see it, his brows rose. “Now that’s an old piece of work.”

“What is it?” Shaylah asked, looking at the small metal device.

“An old holo-filmer,” Dare said. “One of the first hand-sized ones. I’m not sure I remember how to work it”

“I figured it out,” Lyon volunteered. “Here, I’ll show you.”

The boy picked up the device, twisted a small knob, then balanced the thing on end, on the table.

“I had to use the power cartridge from the lights upstairs to charge it,” he explained. “I was afraid it wouldn’t, because it’s so old, but it worked.”

Dax drew back slightly, then glanced at Dare, who looked as impressed as he felt at the boy’s ingenuity.

“Dallying with Paraclon clearly has its good side,” Rina said with a laugh.

Lyon steadied the device, then pushed a button on one side. A small image appeared in the air a few inches away. An image of a rock that was clearly the same kind as the one on the table now, the one in the sketch.

For a moment nothing happened. And then another, much larger stone, in fact a small boulder, fell into the image. It had clearly been dropped from above. It struck the small stone with the black sections, crushed it.

The small stone exploded with a force clear even in the soundless image. A force that seemed much too large for its size. The boulder shattered, flying in every direction. Apparently including toward the holo-filmer, for the recorded image vanished.

Everyone except Shaina and Lyon, who had clearly seen it before, drew back sharply, startled.

“See?” Lyon asked anxiously. “That must be it, where the power comes from.”

Dax, suddenly aware he was gaping, snapped his jaw shut. Just moments ago he and Dare had been handling that rock as if it were just ... well, a rock.

“A bit of warning?” he suggested wryly. “Hard to fire the flashbow with fingers missing.”

“But I’d already poked it,” Lyon explained calmly, “so I knew touching it wouldn’t set it off.”

That boy, Dax thought with a sigh, was sometimes too smart—and curious—for his own good. There was a fine line between protecting and smothering, and Dax was never quite sure exactly where it was.

His mate, on the other hand, merely grinned at him. She was much better at moving past possibilities that never actually happened.

“If that could be controlled ...” Califa began.

“That must be what this is,” Shaylah said, gesturing at the diagrams.

“Do you think he found a way?” Rina asked, paying the drawings more attention now.

“I don’t know,” Dare said.

“Paraclon could figure it out,” Lyon said eagerly.

“Perhaps he could,” Dare said as he picked up the stone to give it a closer look. “But ... I wonder where this came from?” Dare mused aloud. “I’ve not seen this kind of stone on Trios before.”

“Nor have I,” Dax agreed.

“I have!”

Shaina had been quiet longer than usual, as if she’d been waiting for this moment. Dax wouldn’t doubt it. His girl had a knack for good timing.

“Where?” Dax asked.

“I’ll show you!”

She raced for the door, Lyon at her heels.

“So much for our restful, quiet morning,” Shaylah said with a laugh.

They followed as the pair headed into the thick trees behind the cabin. They had been playing there yesterday, Dax remembered.

“Trou-ble,” Rina trilled a few minutes later, as they passed the boundary of acceptable play and crossed into the area the children had been warned to stay away from.

“Indeed,” Dax said dryly. “Not that that would stop them.”

But he said nothing for the moment, just kept following. They reached the reason for the warning, a spot where Coalition explosives had done the only damage in this otherwise pristine place. A yawning crater many yards across, ringed by trees felled by the blast, the rim still blackened after all these years. Dax’s jaw clenched reflexively, as it always did at the evidence of the wanton destruction wreaked upon his once peaceful world.

“See?” Shaina said, pointing into the pit of the crater.

The blotchy rocks were everywhere. Some had clearly reacted to the explosion as the one in the holo had, and lay apparently fused and useless, but many more had apparently been broken loose by the shock wave. A layer of the rock several feet thick was bared, some twenty feet below the surface.

Dax’s gaze shifted to Dare, who glanced back. It was clear his mind was racing with possibilities, just as his own was.

“How much of this rock do you think your new ship could carry?”

“Enough to keep Paraclon busy for quite a while.”

“I think our respite just ended,” Califa said.

“Does this mean we’re not in trouble for passing the boundary?” Lyon asked, wearing that slightly-too-innocent look they all knew well.

“It means, cub,” Dare said, ruffling his son’s hair, “that you and your cohort here will be carrying a lot of rocks shortly.”

Shaina grimaced. “Can’t we just go down and throw them up?”

“That’s silly,” Lyon said. “They might explode.”

“Don’t call me silly, cub,” Shaina said fiercely, hands on her hips.

“I didn’t. Wouldn’t. I called the idea silly. Let’s go.”

That quickly the contretemps was forgotten and they were scrambling down into the crater.

“I see our son has his father’s knack for peacemaking,” Shaylah said with a laugh.

“Good,” Dax said, watching them go. “He’ll need it.”

* * *

DAX HAD FLOWN them home with two massive crates of the stones in the cargo hold, the test of the water landing system postponed for the moment. Dare had kept his father’s drawings in his own pouch, to be turned over to Paraclon when they arrived. The inventor’s first two efforts had ended up with the lab in nearly the shape those two imps had left it in with their rocket experiment. Seeing the destruction, Shaylah was thankful for Paraclon’s uncharacteristic awareness when he had then scanned the diagrams to be projected on his work screen, and returned the originals to Dare. There was little enough of his father left to him, and every bit was treasured.

She had thought as the days passed that Lyon would gradually forget about the project, but he never failed to report to Paraclon’s lab, even long after he had been freed from penitence there. Shaina hadn’t been quite so diligent about it, so wild was she to be free from the duties their recklessness had earned them. But still she came frequently, until Dax had laughingly called them Paraclon’s best inducement to succeed.

Tonight she had found Dare looking at the drawings, as she had several times before. Whether to see if he could divine the proper function—or where Paraclon was going wrong—or simply to touch something his father had touched, she didn’t know.

She stood behind him, resting her hands on his shoulders, drawing strength and warmth and pleasure from this simplest of contacts.

“If this should work ...” she began tentatively.

“It would be close to a miracle,” Dare finished.

“Yes.” She leaned forward to look once more. “I am no designer, but does this not seem as if it should work? Yet it does not. Or Paraclon is not getting it right.”

Dare sighed. “I worry about him. He is brilliant beyond anyone, but sometimes ...”

“Sometimes the eccentricity seems ascendant.”

“Yes.”

“Perhaps when Pavel finishes his schooling, he can help.”

Dare gave her a sideways smile. She knew he would always have a soft spot for the young man who had, as a boy, been the first one to find them when they had returned to Trios. Nor would she ever forget the gentle way he had allowed the “scout” who had barely come up to his elbow to “capture” them and take them to the surviving Triotian rebels. The boy had been the first proof for Dare—Wolf then—that he was not the only one of his people left alive.

And at the time, she’d had no idea of who her companion, the man she had already lost her heart to, really was.

She saw in his eyes the memories were flowing through his mind as well. She knew the bad ones—the memories of being a slave, of the collar that had controlled him body and mind—had haunted his dreams for a very long time. But eventually the enormous job he had to do here took over, and his exhaustion helped him rest more peacefully. And the old memories, the harsh memories had been replaced with those like the day a young boy led him through the rubble of his world and showed him he was no longer alone.

New memories, and their mating helped him rest, she thought with an inward, satisfied smile. Which grew ever more amazing as time passed and their bond strengthened.

“Sometimes,” she said softly, “it is good to think of that time. You need to remember just how far you’ve come, how far back you have brought the people you love.”

“I do love them,” he said, turning in the chair to slip an arm around her. “But I adore you. You are my heart, my very breath.”

She hugged him back, and for a moment they simply stayed, absorbing each other’s warmth and love through that bond that she hadn’t realized was much more than a simple declaration of devotion.

She thought of luring him back to their bed, but didn’t want to take him away from this connection to his father. She scanned the diagram again. Most of the numbers and abbreviations were universal and she understood them, but there were a couple of symbols she had never seen before.

“What is this?”

He glanced where she was pointing. “The formula for heat and pressure. Freylan came up with a system of symbols some decades ago, a shorthand that made things such as this less cluttered and easier to read.”

Paraclon was working from Freylan’s notational system? The clever inventor and Freylan, the rather rigid teacher, were frequently at odds. Freylan’s insults usually came in high-blown, multisyllabic words while Paraclon’s were much more earthy; declaring his adversary a mud-bound Daxelian slug who taught nothing worth learning.

Her last thought echoed in her mind for a moment as she looked at the drawing again. “Dare?”

“Mmm?”

She pointed at the symbols he’d explained. “Would Paraclon know this?”

“What?”

“You know how he is, and how he and Freylan clash. Would he have bothered to learn this, or would he have thought the old way had always served him well enough, and not found anything Freylan devised worth learning?”

Dare’s head turned, and his vivid green Triotian eyes fastened on her. She could almost feel his agile mind racing. And then he stood up, pulling her into a fierce embrace.

“That’s exactly what the stubborn old fool would do!” He released her, turned. “I must go to him.”

“It’s very late, even if you are his king.”

“Yes. But this will not keep. And knowing him he’s probably awake still.”

She gave in. Clearly nothing would stop him now. “All right.”

“Come.”

She blinked.

“It is your discovery, my love. Besides, he adores you. He might take this better from you—that he must give in to something he has so long resisted.”

“And if this is not the answer—”

“It is. I can feel it.”

They ran through the night, holding hands as if they were youths in the first grip of love and excitement. Shaylah vowed that whatever it took, they would never lose the gift of that feeling.

* * *

DAX LOOKED WARILY around the lab.

“Not certain you want to be here?” Califa teased.

“Certain I don’t wish to go airborne without a ship,” he said, eying Paraclon’s latest effort.

“It will work this time,” Shaina insisted, tugging at her father’s hand. “Lyon’s mother found the problem, I told you.”

Dax smiled at her terminology, because he knew Shaylah would like it. She was not their queen, not to the children. Not from any of the six of them would she accept the obeisance offered by all others of Trios. To them she was Dare’s mate and Lyon’s mother, his and Califa’s closest friend and godmother to their daughter.

“I believe you,” he said. “She has a quick mind and understands people.”

They joined the rest of their combined family just inside the door to the lab.

“It is safe this time,” Paraclon assured them.

“Be right, my old friend,” Dare said. “It would not do for you to accomplish what the Coalition could not.”

“Quiet, boy,” Paraclon said—one of the few who would dare address the King of Trios in such a manner. “It won’t kill you.”

The spry old man turned and touched a command screen on the device behind him. It looked exactly like the drawings Lyon had found, only smaller than Dax had expected. Perhaps this was a prototype version.

“It works, you’ll see,” Lyon said, not happy that they were holding him a distance away.

“It would be fitting,” Shaylah said softly.

Dare looked at her. “How so?”

“Because it would be a bridge.”

Dare’s brow furrowed.

“Your father discovered it,” she explained. “And now thanks to his son, and grandson, it will come to life.”

Dax saw Dare lower his gaze, and suspected he had once more been moved to damp eyes by the simple yet potent words of his mate. Shaylah had a way with such things, sometimes even more than Dare himself. She knew so well what would move him, just as Califa knew how to reach he himself in ways no one else did.

A low hum filled the room. A moment later Paraclon made an adjustment on the screen. Then he walked to the wall above his cluttered workbench and pulled a lever downward. The lights in the lab, and several monitoring instruments flickered for an instant, then steadied.

The old inventor turned back to face them, a wide grin on his weathered face.

“Well?” he asked when no one spoke.

“I saw the lights flash,” Lyon said helpfully.

“What you saw,” Paraclon said proudly, “was the transfer.”

Dax drew back slightly as Dare went very still. “Transfer?”

“It is now running the entire lab. And as you can see and hear, with no strain at all.”

Dare said something under his breath that Dax couldn’t hear.

“I told you it would work!” Shaina broke free and darted over to Paraclon. Lyon followed, inspecting the humming device with obvious delight.

“Estimates,” Dare said, gruffly, as if he were afraid to believe what was happening in front of him.

“This one alone could power the entire palace with plenty to spare. The size your father designed, roughly three times this, could power all of Triotia.”

Dax knew exactly how Dare felt. It seemed too good to be true, to have all those problems solved ...

“Weapons?” he asked. “Ships?”

“Weapons eventually, I think,” Paraclon said. “But this runs more to steady power than bursts, such as for liftoff and hyperspeed. It will help with long, stable flights, though. I will have to work on a system to switch between this and normal fuel. And of course it will free all other fuel for the fleet.”

“You’re still grinning, my old friend,” Dare said. “There is more?”

“What it will do is power the long range sensors and the shields. Simultaneously. At full strength.”

Dare let out an audible breath.

“But how much of the stone does it take?” Dax asked, looking for the hole, the problem with the dream come to reality.

Paraclon’s grin widened. “That’s the best part,” he said. He pushed the lever back up, then went back to the device. He shut it down, and after a moment opened a small door and took something out. It appeared to be a black lump about the size of his thumb.

“It takes some time to extract this out of the stone and condense it, but once you do, a piece this size can supply this device for months. If what you say about the volume of the stone available on the mountain is true, once these converters are built, our power problems are over for ... perhaps permanently. But at least until something else comes along.”

Dare looked stunned. Dax knew what this had to mean to him—to be able to provide for his people in the way he wanted. Knew as well how much of a burden this would lift from his shoulders. It all showed in his face in that moment; his reaction was not for himself, but for being able to make their lives better. It was no wonder to Dax that Triotians would lay down their lives for him, for they knew he would do so for them without hesitation.

Shaylah was beaming. The children were chattering excitedly over their part in this wonder.

“You realize what this means?” Dare said, sounding as stunned as he looked.

“Do you?” Dax asked, looking at the man who had been his chosen brother long before he was his king. Dare turned to him.

“I ... what?”

“It means,” Dax said quietly, “that your father will win, in the end. That he will turn their own path of destruction against them. He’s taken what they inadvertently revealed and provided the means by which Trios can ever hold the Coalition at bay.”

Dare went very still as those words sank in. Dax saw his jaw tighten; saw a sheen of moisture in his king’s eyes.

“Which is why,” Paraclon said, “I propose that we call these new units of power Galens. With your permission, of course, your majesty.”

This last was directed at Dare, who was suddenly smiling. “Congratulations, father,” he whispered. “You will have victory after all.”

* * *

“I HELPED, DID I not, father?”

“Indeed you did.”

Dax watched as Dare looked at his son. He knew him well enough to guess at what he was feeling, knowing that one of Trios’s most pressing difficulties had been solved in large part by the boy who would one day be king. He remembered their brief conversation on the flight back from the lake.

Your son is getting an early start on solving big problems.

He has it within him. He may well surpass us all.

It hadn’t been simply paternal pride and hope speaking. Dax knew, for he saw it as well—the potential in the quiet, intelligent, resourceful boy.

“As did Shaina,” Shaylah added, looking at them both. “Had you not found those diagrams and the rocks, and she not remembered where she had seen them, we would not be celebrating this night.”

“A toast,” Califa said, “to the next generation, who will see to the safety of Trios into the future.”

They held up their glasses, the children’s filled with lingberry juice rather than the adult wine.

“And to King Galen, who sees to his people even now,” Dax said. King Galen’s son gave him a smile that was both appreciation and salute.

“A bridge,” Dare said softly, echoing his mate’s words.

They had barely taken a sip when the communications link on the wall behind them blared an alarm at the same instant Dax’s communicator buzzed loudly. Dax got to his first.

“I’m with the king,” he said into it. “Go.”

“Three incoming, sir.”

“Identification?”

“Signature shows 3rd Tactical Offense Wing.”

Dax glanced at Shaylah.

“Well,” she said with a look at Califa, “that makes that decision easier.”

“It does.”

He knew the 3rd was Shaylah’s old flight wing, although she’d been on the defense side. But the Coalition being what it was—they seemed incapable of admitting their own arrogance was responsible for the change in results they’d endured since the rebellion had caught fire across the system—it was doubtful their tactics had changed much, and Shaylah knew them inside out. And so the usual drawing of straws to see which of them would stay home with the children would be foregone this time.

“Sorry,” Shaylah said to Califa. Dax knew the queen understood that his mate would be chafing at being left behind, and before Shaina’s birth would have refused to allow it.

“It is as you have always said, my friend,” Califa said. “The king must lead, and the flashbow warrior must fight, but the children must be protected over all.”

And so our king and our queen go into battle, Dax thought as they hastily changed into flight gear. They would have it no other way, just as I would have it no other way than to fight beside them.

Only now, he would fight just as hard to survive and come home. There had been a time when he hadn’t cared about his own survival, but it was long past. The process that had begun with Rina was now complete with Califa and Shaina. He would live, and he would see that Lyon’s parents came home to him as well.

He thought of the kingbird, diving to salute the king, then soaring into the deep blue. That regal creature—so long thought gone forever—still flew.

And Trios was still here.

He and Dare would see that Trios stood, and would ever stand. And after them, their children would do the same.

END