Upon arrival at the Satille Island house, Dorian found himself staring down the barrel of an antique projectile of the miniature variety. The slack jawed shock that paralysed him had more to do with the bearer of that cocked weapon than the obvious peril he was in. Forget that the man had the most exquisite face he’d ever seen. It wasn’t just shock that had shot through his bones. There was recognition. Dorian knew him! He knew him well enough to to say that he, of all people, was absolutely not supposed to be here. Not in this house, where Dorian had spent so much of his childhood. Not on this tiny island tucked away in the heart of a kingdom light years away from the hellish place where they'd first crossed paths.
“Torrin?”
Green eyes glittered with irritation. “I’m so annoyed with you Dorian.”
Dorian blinked. “What?”
“You left with no warning. Do you have any idea how difficult that made things for me? I’m tempted to just shoot where you stand, just for that.”
He had such a soft voice. This was a side to him that Dorian hadn’t seen, hadn’t even known existed. That cold, menacing stance. His eyes shot to the barrel of the weapon and back to the intruder.
“Now wait...” Nothing was making sense here.
Torrin lips twisted into humorless smile. “Why? You didn’t. I thought we had something special.” The mocking laughter echoed down the hallway.
Dorian’s last mission had been to pose as a soldier in the command of a general named Kurlof, who had mounted a coup on Triton and seemed to have some connection to a mysterious enemy that had been launching attacks on various worlds. On one occasion, a young native of Triton had been presented to Dorian as a gift from the general. It had been a gift that he could not refuse. The younger man, Torrin had tried to escape and Dorian hadn’t any choice but to make him pay for that. Kurlof had wanted a show so Dorian had given him one.
Self loathing aside, he’d felt obligated to keep the young man near, after that. He’d claimed exclusivity and Kurlof had allowed Dorian this indulgence, for the time being. After an unfortunate incident at a prison facility, Dorian had been forced to vacate Triton unexpectedly. Even if he hadn’t been a continent away from his quarters when he’d needed to make a hasty exit, there was no way that he would have been able to escape undetected with a companion. He’d had no choice but to leave his captive behind, deep in the heart of that over-run world.
For the first time, he got a good look at what Torrin was wearing. That dark military tunic. The insignia on his collar. What had he done to get it? That was one of the the family crests of Avanu. Dorian’ elder sibling, Rohan’s insignia, to be more specific. His stomach sank as Torrin stared at him wordlessly. He reached for his sidearm.
Torrin’s eyes narrowed. “Lower your weapon.”
“You first.”
Torrin raised the barrel a bit higher. “You know, we could do this all night.”
“I swear, I will put a hole through you!” Dorian hissed.
“Would you really?” After a long, thoughtful moment Torrin lowered the weapon. “I wonder.” He handed the pistol over and laughed again as Dorian flipped the chamber open. The weapon hadn’t even been armed.
His flippant attitude hit just the right chord to piss Dorian off. “What the hell are you trying to do? Who are you?”
There was no way a conscripted slave from some backwater planet could have escaped Kurlof’s camp and not only made it to Avanu, but past the capital’s security checkpoints without help. It just wasn’t possible. Was he one of Kurlof’s spies? That would have been very well done of him, wouldn’t it? Torrin had certainly had him fooled. His head spun as he came back around to the same conclusion. He closed his eyes, muttering a jumbled mass of expletives. He was going to have to kill him.
“Your Highness!” Torrin’s voice snapped him back.
Dorian blinked when Torrin moved out of the line of fire. Such fluid precision. Taut control. He hadn’t seen that in him before. The prince frowned. He wasn’t behaving at all like the timid and helpless that boy he remembered. That he’d been so tied up into knots and cursing himself to hell for leaving behind and for everything else that he’d done.
“Think about it.” Torrin’s demeanor was serious now. “Do you honestly think that anyone could have gotten past Avanu’s multi-tiered security system, both at space dock and in the capital city? You really think that I could have murdered a guard who by the way, just happens to wear exactly the same size clothing as I do, and no alarm would have sounded by now?”
Flummoxed, Dorian spluttered, “Well, when you put it that way--”
Torrin laughed easily. “Of course not. Isn’t there a much simpler explanation, O Prince of the Pleasure Kingdom?”
Dorian scowled at those last teasing words struck an odd chord. “I’ve seen it happen. Time after time.”
Torrin sobered, “Of course you have, but not on this planet. Not for a while, anyway.”
He led Torrin down the hallway and up a winding staircase. “So who are you,really?” He tossed out over his shoulder. “Guild operative?” That was highly doubtful. He waited to see what Torrin would say.
That soft laugh gave him pause. Odd, it seemed to define the man even more that anything else he might have said or done during their time on Triton. Torrin stopped. He removed the badge with Rohan’s insignia from his lapel. “My credentials.”
Dorian twirled the metallic object in his fingers. “This doesn’t tell me anything.”
Torrin frowned at him oddly. “Your wrist console is a scanner.”
“Oh, right.” He’d been forgetting more and more of these little things lately. It was becoming disconcerting.
The readings from the code on the insignia suggested that Torrin was a body slave in the service of Rohan of Avanu. That wasn’t so unusual. This was the Pleasure Kingdom, after all. This world had made its name and fortune plying the pleasures of the flesh for centuries. Still, even a lifetime deep undercover wouldn’t make Dorian forget the great secret of his own home world. No body slave in the service of Rohan was just a body slave. They were excessively trained operatives, information gatherers and assassins.
“Your communiques were becoming more and more infrequent. Your brother feared the worst, as usual. I was dispatched to extract you.”
“Without consulting with the Guild?” Dorian rolled his eyes heavenward. “Of course,” he muttered acidly. “I’m going to kill my brother.”
Torrin chuckled. “You’ll have to get past Pelim and Netu first.”
Dorian groaned. “Not to mention Jali-Anaman. I’m not ashamed to say that sometimes, she terrifies me. I don’t understand. How were you able to pass yourself off as local on Triton?”
The younger man shrugged. “I posed as a local in town. Once I was captured, it became apparent that you were in quite a unique position as Kurlof’s “trusted” advisor. The opportunity was too valuable to pass up.”
“So you weren’t really a...?”
“I needed to make sure that I would be able to keep you in my sights. It was easy, taking advantage of your very obvious guilt. Then,” Torrin’s eyes narrowed. “You nearly got me killed by departing unexpectedly. Why did you do that, exactly?”
 |
 |
Apparently, Rohan had been making quite a few plans behind Dorian’s back. His quarters had actually been readied and on of the kitchens had been generously stocked. He wasn’t sure who to be more annoyed with, his brother or the enigmatic sylph who now sat across from him at the dinner table, watching him eat.
He gestured toward the food laid out before them. “There’s more than enough for the two of us.”
Torrin shook his head. “I’m not hungry.” He watched in dumb fascination as Dorian polished off the food in front of them. He did a few quick calculations in his head. Honestly, if the prince ate like this all the time, he would have to re-supply within the week.
Finally, Dorian shoved the last dish away, unfinished. He reached for his wine and took a careful sip. He set his glass back down. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened to you after I left Triton?”
“Does it matter now?”
“You said I almost got you killed. It’s fair to say I’d want to know what that entailed.”
Torrin didn’t answer. The careful way he was watching Dorian, absorbing every word and gesture was more discomfiting than the prince cared to admit. “Well?”
Torrin skirted the question again. “Why did you leave Triton so suddenly? What did you find out?”
Dorian frowned, staring down into his wine. Once again, there was an uneasy tingle running down his spine. “I can’t tell you that.”
Torrin’s eyes narrowed shrewdly. “Can’t or won’t?”
Something at the back of Dorian’s mind niggled at him. something was wrong about this whole set-up. Something was very wrong. “Is this an interrogation?”
“Of course not. I was just curious to know what might have spurred you to abandon your mission so suddenly.”
“Why don’t you answer a question for a change?”
Torrin shrugged. “Ask away.”
“Why did you make me believe that I had seriously damaged you? I wouldn’t think that a trained body slave would behave that way.”
Torrin laughed. “You really have been away too long. No body slave of Avanu is trained to behave like a body slave.”
Dorian frowned. “What?”
He didn’t understand any of what Torrin had just said. His vision blurred suddenly. God. He was so tired. He yawned. Torrin stood and came around to where he was. In the midst of the overwhelming haze, three things came into sharp focus. Torrin’s palm covering his. His lips at his ear. Moving. What did he say? His lips touched Dorian’s briefly. Lightly. And then there was darkness.
From Dorian’s work room, Torrin accessed a private communication channel to the palace. Pelim’s grim form filled the screen. Pelim was body slave and second in command to Rohan and Torrin reported directly to him. He wasn’t human. His ashen complexion and the swirling patterns that covered his skin made it impossible to perceive him as anything but an oddity. Even so, he was trusted by the emperor above all others, commanded Avanu's entire army.
“Do you have good news?” He asked.
Torrin shook his head bleakly. “He’s exhibiting definite signs of selective memory loss. We may be right about the prince having been compromised, after all. ”
Pelim sighed, “Well that was to be expected, considering the events of the past week. You know what needs to be done.”
Torrin nodded. “He’s sedated at the moment. I’ll need some more time to prep the device before I begin.” He moved to kill the connection. He paused, noting his superior’s hesitation. “Was there something else Pelim?”
“It’s become apparent, the depth of your affection for the prince. Perhaps, it would be better for someone else to oversee this particular task--”
“If this were Rohan, would you let anyone else near him?”
Pelim sighed. “Point taken.”
A while later, Torrin left the workroom and took the quickest route to the roof. He lay on the parapet, staring thoughtfully up at the stars for the longest while. They had some difficult days ahead. It was too bad that unlike Dorian, he couldn’t find any comfort in sleep at the moment.
