"Rave." Kith came around to kneel by her head, whispering in her ear. "Rave, let them do it. You can't help when you're this sick. You'd never be strong enough."

"There is danger," she argued hoa.r.s.ely. "Soon. Don't put me to sleep."

"What about a nerve blocker?" Bronse asked suddenly. "On the back of her neck. Numb her from the neck down. We'll help her and she'll stay aware. That's what you need, right, Ravenna? You want to stay aware? To warn us if you need to?"

"Yes," she said with a sigh. "Yes. And to help."

"Do it," Bronse commanded Lasher. He grabbed his gloves and jerked them on. He disposed of the narc patch on the palm of his glove, clicked his sidearm into its holster. "What's your name, kid?" he demanded of the boy.

"Kith."

"Well, Kith, are you strong enough to help me carry your sister?"

"Of course," he scoffed.

"Over fifteen miles?"

"Sure," the younger man said stubbornly. "No problem."

"Fine. Same rules for you. Not a sound. If you need to stop, you say so and we trade off. No heroics."

"Okay," he agreed.

"Sir," Lasher interrupted, "we could move faster if you and Ender-"

"Ender needs his hands free for munitions. I need you on point and Justice watching our backs. Final orders, Lieutenant Commander," Bronse said shortly when Lasher looked like he was going to protest. "Ender, dump those guards in here. Go down the corridor and take out the guard making rounds. Maybe if we can keep the alarm from being raised, it'll make it easier for us."

"Gotchya, Boss."

Ender faded back down the hall a minute later and Justice watched him go. She also watched the corridor for movement as Lasher moved behind Ravenna and helped Bronse and Kith pull her to her feet.

"You can't feel your legs, but you can move them if you focus," Lasher told her. "But let the guys do most of the work." Lasher looked at Bronse, concern in his eyes. "She's in bad shape, and we got some seriously bad miles to go. The wilderness and desert are crawling with activity."

"Any suggestions?"

"I have one, sir." Justice stepped up. "We can remotepilot the ship, making them think we left. We can then bring it down deep into the wilderness due east from here. It'll be a longer, rougher trek, though. We'd have to make it a good fifty miles in if we expect the ship's return to go unnoticed by the enemy." She paused a beat. "Or I could go back to the ship alone and pilot to a rendezvous poi-"

"No!"

Bronse and Ravenna chorused the countermand harshly, shocking the others in the room.

"No separation," Ravenna insisted.

"Ravenna's right. We stick together," said Bronse.

Ravenna gasped then, lifting her head.

"Ophelia," she croaked. "We can't leave her, Kith! Vivienne and Devan ... all the others! If we escape, they will-" she gasped in breathless panic.

"Ravenna, take it easy!" Bronse tried to soothe her, reaching to cup her face as she swayed on her feet.

"No! No separation!" she gasped. "Don't you see? They sold us! If we escape, they will sell the others to replace us!"

Kith sucked in a sharp breath and spat out a curse recently acquired from Bronse.

"She's right! We need to get the others."

"Listen, kid, this isn't a rescue mission," Lasher argued sharply.

Bronse gave his second a look, reminding him that it actually was a rescue mission, or it was supposed to have been. Lasher had the scruples to look sheepish.

"But, sir, they're civilians."

"We're Chosen Ones! Priests and priestesses!" Kith snapped. "Sold and defiled, our temple desecrated by greed! They were selling Ravenna to be a Shiasha's bride so he could rape her for the powers she has. They were selling me to be his chained pet and G.o.ds only know what else. Rave is right. We have a baby sister. The temple will be ransacked for the powerful Chosen Ones who are still virgins. That would be our sixteen-year-old sister, Ophelia. And there's fourteen-year-old Devan. But then again, there's Fallon, who's seventeen if the Shiasha likes boys."

"What the h.e.l.l is a Chosen One?" Lasher barked.

"No time. No time," Ravenna murmured.

"She's right. Let's solve this later. Let's just get out of here and head east into the wilderness. We'll figure the rest as we go."

"Good. Our temple is in the wilderness," Kith said darkly.

"I didn't make any promises, kid," Bronse snapped. "And while I'm at it, I'm in charge of this mission. What I say goes. If men like these can accept that, then so can you. You copy?"

"Yeah," Kith agreed after a wide-eyed moment resembling respect. But then again, everyone respected Bronse when he used that tone.

Ravenna was only partly conscious and even less aware than that when the next part of her prophecy came roaring out of a dark corridor. An unexpected troop of guards dropped right on top of them. Had Bronse been alone helping Kith and Ravenna, he would have been outnumbered ten to one and likely slaughtered in a heartbeat. Instead, the speed and violent skill of his team burst to life all around him, and he and Kith drew Rave out of the way of danger.

After leaning Rave against Kith, Bronse joined the melee. His team, however, had rallied with splendid efficiency. They did a fine job of silently dispatching the threat, with a little help from Ender's more stealthy tricks of his trade. Not a single whine of laser fire was to be heard. The guards lay sagged against the walls-all of them unconscious because Bronse had ordered a "no kill" until they were aboveground, when the rules would change significantly. Breathless, Bronse took a minute to lean against a wall, wiping sweat from his brow.

A moment later he heard a sharp intake of breath from Kith and turned to see what was wrong. He found the younger man glaring at him with accusation.

"What?" Bronse asked impatiently.

"You're injured!" Kith snapped.

Bronse felt the attention of his entire crew swinging toward him, three pairs of sharp eyes a.s.sessing him quickly.

"I'm fine," Bronse dismissed their concern gruffly. He straightened from the wall and took half of Ravenna's weight onto himself again, ending any argument.

At least with his crew.

"He's lying!" Kith bl.u.s.tered. "He's in agony!"

"Let's get moving, kid," Bronse commanded.

"But-"

"Move or let Ender take your place!" Bronse barked.

Ender didn't give the kid a choice. The huge munitions officer plucked Kith out from under his sister's arm, yanking him back in Justice's direction, and then swept up Ravenna's weight on the left side as if she were a paper doll. Bronse secretly took a breath of relief as Ender bore his half of her weight far better than Kith had.

Kith, meanwhile, was cussing and grumbling under his breath about Bronse. "He's hurt," he groused to Justice, "and he's lying about it."

"He's a soldier," Justice responded with a shrug, clearly the end of the discussion on the matter.

When they finally exited the tunnel entrance his crew had found in their efforts to reach Bronse, the commander never thought he would be so glad to see the black sands of the Grinpar Desert again. But one look at the lightening sky sent his mind reeling. He hadn't realized how much time had pa.s.sed. Dawn came early on Ebbany, and it was already upon them.

"We have to get to the wilderness, fast," he said, shifting Ravenna's weight entirely onto Ender so he could quickly shrug out of his gear vest. He stripped off his double holster, then his long-sleeved black shirt. This exposed a short-sleeved Skintex T-shirt, also black, which he left on. He reached to slide the discarded shirt onto Ravenna, covering her exposed arms and back, b.u.t.toning it over the ragged remains of her gown in the front. "This will protect your skin in case we don't make it to cover before the sun is high enough to burn."

"Thank you," she murmured. "I am used to the sun."

"I know. But it's different when you're injured."

"Okay," she accepted.

Bronse reached to redress his gear, his keen eyes sweeping around the terrain as he tried to think of an advanced course of action.

"Ender, how many miles could you carry her on your own if you had to?"

"How many do you need?" the giant rejoined without humor or ego.

"Kith, how many miles to your temple from here?"

Kith stepped forward eagerly. "This is Banda territory. I don't know exactly how far in we are, but I guess about thirty miles. Northeast," he clarified before Bronse could ask, refusing to let the commander have any more opportunity to treat him like a simplistic kid. He was twenty-one years old, making him more than a man in many cultures, and he was quickly getting tired of the way this stranger treated him.

"They'll expect them to run straight home," Lasher offered warily. "They'd try to reacquire them there."

"If their villagers sold them out, I wouldn't call it a safe haven," Justice added.

"The temple is set deep in the forest, away from the village," said Kith. "They wouldn't even know we were there. The Banda don't know where the temple is, only the village. It would take them time to catch up to us." Kith was trying not to sound as anxious as he felt, but he had too much at stake to manage the same cool contemplation of their tones.

"Frankly, I don't see that we have much choice," said Bronse. "The temple will provide shelter and a temporary safe haven. We need somewhere to hide from the larger threat of the trap closing in around us." Bronse placed his hands on his hips for a minute as he surveyed the dawn coming over the terrain. "We can handle the Banda better than the other threat. Agreed?"

"Sir, the ship has medical care. I don't see logic in going in the opposite direction," Justice complained softly. As a pilot, she inherently craved having a ship at hand. Being without it was like amputating a major skill.

"Ophelia is a healer," Kith countered. "And far better at it than anything you can come up with."

"I doubt that," Bronse said dryly. "Okay. The bottom line is that everything to the south is hot with danger and enemies. We can't risk it with an injured woman and a civilian. Northeast it is."

"Aye, sir," Lasher said smartly, putting an end to any further debates.

Bronse swept Ravenna back up against him, again sharing her weight with Ender. They linked arms beneath her bottom, fashioning a perch for her as they each pulled an arm across their shoulders. It drew her feet off the ground without putting any stress on her injured back other than the outstretching of her arms. The nerve block and topical were doing their job, though, and she didn't seem to feel a thing.

As they began to trek toward the wilderness, Bronse contemplated Kith and things he had said and done that began to make him speculate. He had to accept that Ravenna was a very special creature. Now that he was positive that she was real, he had to accept that she had some odd abilities. Appearing to him in dreams, for one-although she had seemed just as surprised as he on several of those occasions. However, there had been no mistaking her ability to see future occurrences. Even if all the rest could be put down to good guesses and logical explanation, he couldn't explain away her a.s.surances that they would meet. He also couldn't explain the feelings and senses that had guided him right to her, and his ability to sense the distinctive smell of her perfume. Especially when he'd sensed it only in dreams. How could he have noted such a thing when she'd been behind sealed and locked doors? And there had been that strange inner pull ...

Now he had to wonder about Kith as well. How had this kid known so a.s.suredly that he was injured? He'd managed to keep it hidden even from his pack of highly trained men. Did Kith have perceptions like those of his sister? Why was it that this kid was investing trust in someone he clearly didn't like? Despite his personal clashes with Bronse, Kith seemed to have no doubts that Bronse would be the one to guide him and Ravenna out of trouble.

Chosen Ones.

Sold for their power.

Kith had said Ravenna would have been sold and raped in an attempt to gain her power. A backwater belief if ever he had heard one, but unsurprising in these primitive cultures. Yet even the most primitive beliefs had births attached to truths. It appeared that the truth here was that Ravenna did, indeed, have power. It wasn't too far of a stretch to see how her siblings would also have gifts.

The problem was, Bronse's crew wasn't stupid. As things progressed, they'd be picking up on this information as well. How would they feel once they knew that Bronse had been making decisions based on "visions" of this woman? Even Lasher didn't know, or hadn't known, that Bronse's antic.i.p.atory feelings had come from dreams and an outside source. By all rights, his crew should depose him of his authority immediately and pack him off to Psyche Services as soon as they docked to station. By the rules, they would have ample cause. He had certainly behaved far out of his norm during this entire mission. Even now he was leading his crew to step over bounds that were not to be crossed. Picking up civilians? Treating Rave would have been acceptable, but rescuing her and taking her brother? Even now Bronse was heading deeper into troubled waters because he was actually contemplating picking up a temple full of these Chosen Ones and giving them transport.

Just what did he think he was going to do with them? He couldn't very well bring them onto a military installation.

Bronse stumbled in the sand and brush of the leading edge of the wilderness, making him aware that they were crossing the border. Catching himself sent a jerk of agony through his abused body, and he came to a halt as he fought the reflexive sound of pain welling up from his chest. Ender stopped, silently keeping his eyes skimming the terrain as he allowed his commander to collect himself. Without a word, they both started off in step again.

Ender didn't bother to ask the commander if he was okay, if he needed to slow down or take a break. Bronse would do one or all of the above when and if it was necessary. However, if anyone asked Arms Master Rush "Ender" Blakely his opinion on the matter, he'd say that the nearest h.e.l.l-acre would freeze over before that happened.

Ender did spare a glance for the disheveled female civilian, though, unable to help his curiosity over her and the commander's behavior toward her. She was tall, dusky skinned, and pleasantly weighty for a female. Certainly not unattractive, and Rush could understand how Bronse could be quickly drawn by her. Her beauty was strong, and yet she seemed vulnerable in both appearance and physicality to many things, not the least of which had been her captors.

Frankly, he was glad the commander had broken with protocol and taken her along for the ride. Ender had seen some gruesome methods of flagellation in the Tari wilderness where he had grown up, and he knew that this woman's festering wounds could easily mean her death. No. Since no one had properly tended her, it would definitely mean her death, unless the Great Being touched her with a miracle. Even now, he knew that if it were not for medical technology helping her, she would be out cold from agony. He should know. He himself had the scars across his back to remind him of the feeling ... and the infections.

So maybe he was a little personally involved in his need to help rescue the appealing woman, and maybe she and the boy were added dangers that the crew could have done without, but far be it from Ender or any of his companions to shy away from diminishing odds. The only one who seemed unhappy with the choice was Justice, but Rush knew that was because she just wanted to get her flight stick between her knees. They all had their security blankets when they were in danger. For Justice, it was yanking and banking. For himself, it was a gear vest full of ordnance. For Lasher? He turned to Bronse for steadying on the rare occasion of feeling insecure.

Ender hadn't ever figured out what Bronse's crutch was. He had once thought that leaders didn't have crutches. He knew better now. Perhaps one day he would figure it out, although after four years under Bronse Chapel's command, he highly doubted that he was going to be enlightened if he hadn't been already.

Bronse didn't call for a break in their increasingly difficult hike over rough terrain until sometime later, when Ravenna made a soft, almost imperceptible sound of pain.

"Halt!"

The crew did so instantly, and Kith rushed to his sister as she was set on a large boulder with a rough but flat surface. All of the surrounding rock, shale, and soil were black, but the vegetation was becoming greener, denser, and taller the deeper into the wilderness they went. Justice and Ender automatically began to circle and secure a perimeter as Lasher slung up his rifle and trekked back to his patient. He had the most field medical training of the quartet, so they always deferred to his judgment. Bronse was just thankful Masin had had the forethought to expand the standard first-aid kit. It was another anomaly that he would have to examine at a better time, he thought. They were all trained to avoid carrying even the smallest amount of undue extraneous weight. It simply didn't make sense that Masin had suddenly made an exception.

Lasher pushed Kith out of his way, sending the kid back a few steps and unwittingly p.i.s.sing off the little hothead, though his only intention had been efficiency. Lasher was used to dealing with soldiers who scattered on command and without question. Kith was a vision of outrage, although Masin's attention was all for Ravenna.

"Pain?" he asked gently, looking into her eyes and seeing his answer even without her nod and the telltale gnawing of her bottom lip. Brave little thing, he thought with admiration. She had been bearing it longer than she had allowed them to think. He gently bent her head forward and checked the flashing node he'd attached to the back of her neck. It was glowing yellow, indicating that the neural medication was almost depleted.

He didn't have a replacement. It wasn't meant to last for such a long hike. He glanced up at Bronse, sending a clear message to his commander though he didn't speak aloud.

"How far?" Bronse asked Kith, taking brief note of the kid's tense lips and clenched fists.

"Fifteen miles at least."

Bronse didn't have to swear out loud for his crew to hear it in their heads when his lavender eyes flashed angrily. But he kept silent, unwilling to broadcast his upset to the woman trying so valiantly to be stoic.

"Then we better make them fast ones," Bronse said with firm determination. "Give her some topical. It should help. We'll take it as far as we can. Then, if we have to, we'll narc her."

"No!" she protested quickly, forcing her body to straighten, as if to convince them of the impossible. "I'm fine. I'm fine. Let's just go."

Lasher ignored her and obeyed his commander, gently sweeping her hair into his hands and dropping it over her shoulder out of his way. He didn't notice the fine tensing of Bronse's body as his eyes fell covetously on Lasher's hands in the soft ma.s.s of Ravenna's dark hair. Masin inspected the back of the shirt she wore, and it took only an instant to see that the material gleamed with wetness. Very gently he peeled away the cloth from Rave's back and off her arms. His teeth made a small gritting sound as they clenched. Laying the shirt aside, he glanced up at Bronse, and the commander instantly read the silent message and came around to look at Ravenna's back.

Their movement had torn open every last lash. The welts were bleeding freely.

"Bandages?" he asked, the muscle ticking in his jaw the only giveaway as to his feelings on seeing the woman's ravaged skin.