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“That would be a satisfactory explanation. We have only just now adequately positioned the transceivers to allow communications from long-range comms. Before that, we had faint comm abilities with the eastern border, but the increase in storm activity has dampened even those until now,” the male reminded him. “If she tried to comm via the eastern channels, she would have been unsuccessful.”

He hissed in concern. That was a weakness he had not accounted for. No one from the house had been able to contact him for an entire span!

“Precisely,” Navesha snapped. “Gorgoluk transported us up to the eastern border to request passage. I get here, and you are wasting time quizzing me on my mate!” Her eyes frantically scanned the room, widening as they landed on Dreth. “Where is Terri?” she shouted.

The frantic yell made Veral recoil, his vibrissae snapping up in a rattling menace. Bringing up his comm unit, he attempted to connect with Terri as he debated for the hundredth time suggesting that she get a small processing chip that would allow them to open a private channel.

Nothing.

Mouth tightening, he terminated the connection and turned to address his head guard.

“Larth? Locate Terri,” he snarled, before lifting his comm once more. “Dreth? Report immediately!”

“Scanning for her comm signature,” the male barked from his place beside the systems relay.

While they lacked basic security and much of the luxuries, there was enough of a technical relay to allow comm access. Even in the Galithilan, Argurma enjoyed the usefulness of their comm systems. It would be a matter of minutes before they would be able triangulate her position.

Tension radiated through him, something dark settling into his gut. That feeling tightened when Dreth entered the room alone, his vibrissae twitching in puzzlement.

“Veral?”

Growling, Veral stormed over to the male, grabbing a handful of his vibrissae as worry and bloodlust sang through his blood. He would kill the male if he had done anything to his mate.

“Where is my mate?” he snarled.

Dreth jerked in his grip, unmindful of the pull on his vibrissae, his eyes widening.

“Malraha volunteered to take the shift today. Terri mentioned wanting to spend time in the weaving room today,” Dreth said uneasily. “I was discussing with one of your far-kin their manner of taming and training dragnar to ride in the courtyard. I will attempt to connect with her.”

“Malraha?” Navesha spat as she whirled away. “We must find her. Malraha is the betrayer!”

“What?” Veral snarled, falling in behind her. “Larth, connect with me immediately on our private channel when you have the coordinates,” he ordered.

The male jerked his head in hasty agreement, eyes shifting as he peered into the digital world, going through codes to search for Terri.

Veral caught up with Navesha, and she darted a sidelong look his way.

“Are you certain?” he hissed.

She dropped her head in a nod, her expression grave as they sped through the corridors. Veral moved into the lead. Although Navesha’s worry spurred her forward, she did not know the layout of the compound. She gave over the lead graciously; her expression becoming increasingly worried as they turned down one hall and then another.

“I am certain of it,” she growled. “I spent days going over the security feed, trying to connect the attacks on Terri. I discovered nothing suspicious until I accidentally switched to the courtyard feed the night after Terri was attacked. Someone had tampered with the vids, but they were sloppy and did not alter it completely. I discovered this on closer inspection—something we did not notice before. I am transmitting to you on the common channel.”

Veral’s eyes widened as an image rose in his mind. It was blurry, as if catching movement, and undefined due the alteration to the vid. Fury rose swift and brutal within him as Malraha’s profile mocked him. It was followed by another cropped and magnified image of the female’s hands on Harahna’s bed. Nothing unusual about that except for the hathals slipping out from where she had them tucked in the flowing sleeves of her tunic. They were blurs connecting with the edges of the bed, but he had no doubt as to what he was looking at. He never would have caught the fleeting image. To have found that, Navesha would have had to have spent hours going over every millisecond of the security feed.

“She was setting me up,” Navesha grumbled. “Featha had me under surveillance when you left. She was suspected I was the traitor. Malraha had roused suspicion against me. She made certain the attention was called to my absences whenever I left the compound to meet Gargoluk. She made certain that I was with Terri when she was attacked. She even cast suspicion on my fondness for collecting and raising maripala, as far as your mate would be concerned, since she saw me pick up the egg capsules.”

“Maripala,” Gargoluk rasped at her side, a hint of amusement in his voice.

The female huffed in annoyance. “The winged insects are attractive, and I enjoy their colors. Do not veer off subject, anastha.” She shook her head grimly and continued. “With some digging into her records, I discovered that she had programming for robotic systems. That was the last clue required to link all the events to her. Every incident staged. Even then, it took some convincing for Featha to truly look at my data and believe me.”

“Why?” he growled, his voice thick with emotion.

Navesha glanced at him her expression sober.

She drew in a hard breath. “I had cause to hate you. Our mother allowed herself to be consumed by her grief after you were taken for processing, and I hated you all throughout my youth for that. Not even processing could wipe the memories away and give me the nothingness it gives others. And I hated you more for that. But when you arrived with your mate and I saw your love for her, it reminded me of our mother and father, and I could not wish harm on you. No matter how angry I was with you—unreasonably so, I know—I could not harm you or your mate. In my mind, you were their legacy, and you gave me hope for my own mating,” she muttered with a glance at her mate as they rounded another bend.

He shook his head in bewilderment. He had birth-kin? How had he never known? He understood how he would have forgotten; he would not have remembered her or anyone from before his processing, and afterward there had been only Anahal in his mother’s stead to care for him and his programing had accepted her lead. He rarely saw Featha then or during his training. In that first revolution, he had not even known that his mother was going through corrections until she was determined a failure and terminated. He had no memory of his mother or father. It reasoned that he had none of his sister, either.


Tags: S.J. Sanders Argurma Salvager Science Fiction