Chapter Twenty: "Wait for Me, My Love"

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"I don't see why Onyx would be here of all places," Sanar grumbled as she followed her brother.

"Ennth is his home planet," Devnos explained impatiently. "And if you're going to make a nuisance of yourself, you can just go back to the ship."

Sulking, the woman nevertheless stayed close. Eating had neither bettered nor worsened her mysterious illness, and Sanar was becoming paranoid of Devnos' luxurious shuttle. When Devnos had said he was going on-planet before turning in for the night, Sanar had declared that she was, too.

After all, maybe she only needed some fresh air. In the past five years, she had breathed more artificial air than could be good for her.

But Sanar couldn't even begin to convince herself that that was all. Even the Strings, which had abandoned her for so long, were trembling.

Devnos had let her come, for reasons Sanar could only begin to guess. Perhaps he was hoping Sanar would help him, despite her constant reassurances that she knew nothing?

"How, exactly, do you plan on finding Onyx? I mean, it's not likely that he'll be jumping around in the main square, wearing a bright pink dress."

"I have contacts here," Devnos muttered absently as they came upon the city gates. "Besides, I don't expect to find Onyx here; I just need to clear up the ambiguity that clouds Onyx's past. So little is known about him before… And it is always in the past that we find the future."

Sanar grinned before she realized what she was doing. Devnos always had been too philosophical for his own good. "Always the melodramatic," she murmured, too low for him to catch her words. The previous night's dream had sucked out a generous amount of her less noble emotions, and she didn't want a fight, but nor did she want her brother to think she had forgiven him.

Right before he disappeared into the bustling crowd, Devnos glared into Sanar's eyes. "Don't even think about trying to escape, or I'll – "

She shoved him away. "I'm not two, you twit; I know the rules. Just get lost, already."

His black eyes stayed on her for a moment, then he swung around into the people. Sanar copied his example – in the other direction, of course. She soon found herself in the downtown area. It was still light out, but the evening was creeping up on the city, and the clubs were beginning to open. All around her were places called "Sala's Hope" or "The New Light". This planet, she thought a little wistfully, was a place of hope. So different from her own home planet.

Perhaps that was why Zekk had been saved, while Sanar had little doubt that she would remain in the gutters forever.

A headache strained her attention, and Sanar sat on a nearby bench, taking the moment to rest away from the calculated, hateful eyes of her brother and his apprentice. Ignoring the feeling that she should leave, Sanar closed her eyes. Was it her, or was her head already clearing? Perhaps it was just need of good air that affected her, after all. Reopening her eyes with a relieved sigh, she stood – and froze.

Sanar couldn't have seen what she thought she saw. It was impossible. He was dead.

If she had been made of ice, she could have moved faster. Help, she thought miserably. Her eyes were the only part of her that moved quickly, darting about the square, searching for proof.

There! Oh gods!

Sanar fell back, smacking into the brick wall of an alley beside her previous sitting area. Her earlier nightmare was coming back, and "futile" did not begin to describe the hope that she would be saved this time, in real life.

If Horaire was on Ennth after she had killed him, then it was Judgement. No dream lover could save her.

There! His hideous, bright orange hair: Sanar spotted it near a dance house with glittering lights. His grating laugh carried to her ears. Screams shattered her hearing.

Was she the one screaming? Or was it the old, silent terror that broke only Sanar?

You thought you could escape me?

Horaire had really found her. Oh Larifyx, oh stars, oh Force… "I killed you," she insisted, her breath coming in gasps. "You're dead!"

Pain in her side. Sanar's hand went to it instinctively and came up red with blood.

This wouldn't happen if he was here.

//"Don't do it, Sanar; don't jump. Wait for me. Live. Our paths are joined. Wait for me."//

She had waited! Where was he?

Wait for me, love.

It was the first time she had ever heard his voice when she was not dreaming.

Fight.

Her spine straightened, and fire began to rekindle in her veins. Then – it blazed, and Sanar realized that someone…Jaina…was feeding her strength.

The orange hair was coming closer, and Sanar was prepared to fight. She had a destiny to wait for; she wasn't going to let Horaire take that from her. He had taken enough.

I'll wait.

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Devnos had just gotten to the matter of Onyx's orphanage when Sanar's horror kicked his every sense into high gear. Racing off without a thought to do otherwise, Devnos let the Force guide him to the clubbing section of the city.

There: in the alley.

Slowing down, he scanned the area, trying to locate the threat. Nothing…noth—what? Devnos' eyes narrowed at the patch of orange hair approaching Sanar's alley. At first glance, Devnos was struck with the memory of Horaire. After further scrutiny, however, he realized that the colour was garish – fake. A wig, maybe, or a cheap dye job.

But Sanar had suffered enough to be terrified by even the idea of Horaire. It would help or hinder her – Sanar's ability to hate and fight was obsessively well groomed, but she would run out of strength, eventually. Not yet, though. She couldn't. One of the pieces had yet to arrive. She had to know it was only an assassin.

Leave her.

No! Now wasn't the time!

The assassin is one of ours. Leave her. She is nothing to you…or did you lie to us?

I… Devnos cursed. How was it that he, the only Klis child who needed to have only one directing force, was pulled in four directions? Fighting for every metre, he launched himself in Sanar's direction.

IT retaliated by striking him blind.

With a cry, Devnos tripped, sprawling into a face plant on the dusty ground. Strangers' hands and concerned voices smothered him, and Devnos pushed them away. Sanar, he decided, was far more trouble than she was worth.

Focusing on the Dark side got him back to his feet and walking in Sanar's general direction. But then his anger and selfishness taunted him, distracting him from his goal.

He couldn't use the Dark side to help, this time. The only…the only thing that might help him was…

Only if you help us.

Devnos couldn't believe it. You won't let that go even for her? Your dearly beloved Sanar? So much for being concerned about her! An outbreak of mixed emotions – anger, fear, hatred and defiance – from Sanar made Devnos stumble into a stone wall. Static crumpled his mind, chewing, snapping, threatening to make him drop out and forget again, if only he dropped his guard for a moment.

One look, the Strings insisted. Just one.

Involving me will only destroy your precious game.

The Strings were quiet, then, Will you not save Brownie? The Other is not here to do so yet.

Seconds ticked. There was a thip of blaster fire hitting flesh, and Devnos sighed. Give me my sight, and I will give it back to you – but only for a moment.

A swell of triumph, then his vision returned. His eyes darted to the left, just in time to see the wigged assassin reloading his antique blaster.

"Sanar – duck!"

She hit the ground without hesitation, her remaining scraps of trust making her respond to his warning. Devnos' hand flew to his lightsaber as he jostled through the crowd. The pain lessened for a moment, as if IT thought Devnos was going to kill Sanar himself. Instead, just as he was a metre away from Sanar, he twirled his ignited lightsaber…and cut the blaster out of the assassin's hand.

The agony restarted immediately, and Devnos more staggered into than punched Rafintair's hired man. When a dizzy spell sent him hurtling back, as if he had run into an elastic, he heard the sound of someone getting the crap kicked out of them.

It sounded kind of like what was happening in his head.

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Sanar only pulled back when not-really-Horaire's face resembled raw meat. And then she screamed at him. "Who the lafit do you think you are, making me think you were…! And then you made my brother…faint…" She punched him again for good measure. "What the hell? That was the first time in years that Devnos ever…" stood up for me. "And you couldn't let him finish?"

Someone dragged her back from behind, and Sanar elbowed them until the hands loosened, freeing her to launch back at the man. His orange wig had fallen off, but Sanar hadn't forgotten her earlier fear. With a fresh burst of anger, she swung her fist into the side of his face, causing him to slump pathetically to the ground.

To punctuate how badly she had clobbered him, the wound in her stomach cramped, making her grimace. Before she could stand and stare at Devnos as if he was from another universe, something on not-Horaire's neck caught her attention. Leaning forward, she jerked his shoulder so that she could get a better look.

When she realized what it was, her venturing fingers shot back as if they had been burned. It was the tattoo of Rafintair's Holy Brothers: ruthless killers who excused their disgusting actions as those the god, Pucijir, desired. This man was missing the image of Pucijir's skapter, so he was only an apprentice, but…

What was a Brother doing here? Why were they… Sanar's eyes reflexively flew to Devnos' still form. Reluctantly, the pieces fell together into a chaotic picture.

Devnos had tried to stop the assassin. The Brother had shot Sanar – unless she had only brought attention to herself with her terror, which wasn't likely. Holy Brothers were fanatics. Nothing distracted them.

Why would a Brother come after me?

"You…is he alright?" a man asked, eyeing Sanar cautiously before he looked at Devnos, the fight's only participant that looked even remotely innocent.

Sanar brushed him aside. "We'll be…okay," she said uncertainly, ignoring the stranger's look. He was probably wondering who – the Brother or Sanar – was the wrongdoer. Flipping her hair breathlessly, she gestured to the Holy Brother. "Sorry about the mess. The demon alcohol, you know – drives everyone crazy."

It was still a little too early for drinking, with the drinking spots only just beginning to open. Nevertheless, the stranger stepped away, his suspicion turning to disgust, probably thinking she was a dancer from some dodgy bar.

Devnos groaned as he came to, drawing Sanar's gaze. She thought she heard him mutter, "Who danced in my head?"

She wanted to demand an explanation, but the crowd was shuffling suspiciously, and Sanar wasn't in the mood to clear things up for them. They would forget about it as soon as they got some alcohol in their veins. "Time to go," she told her brother in a sing-song voice. She began to help him stand, but he slapped her hands away and rose on his own.

"I'm not finished here," he growled blearily.

Did he really still care about Onyx's history? Sanar rolled her eyes. "Oh yes you are," she retorted, dragging him away by the elbow.

"No, I'm – "

"Don't be an idiot," she whispered fiercely, so only he could hear. "There is never only one Brother. This crowd isn't ready for a war in their backyard. Just pretend you're drunk; they're used to inebriated fist fights."

He was confused enough to follow without further protest, and the crowd made no move to bar the Klis siblings' way. Sanar's back ached from being so straight, but her fear and confusion wouldn't let her relax until they were almost to the ship, and she could no longer feel the crowd's eyes on her.

Devnos seemed to take his cue from her, because he jerked out of her grip. She put one hand on her uninjured hip, watching him through narrowed eyes. "Devnos. What the lafit is a Holy Brother doing on Ennth?"

He glanced up at her, eyes flashing, but didn't speak.

Sanar wanted to scream. Instead, she pushed him. No longer unsteady on his feet, he didn't move. It did nothing to soothe her temper. "A Holy Brother," she stormed. "Devnos, he tried to kill me!" Her hand lightly touched the place where the laser had grazed her stomach. "Why would Rafintair send… I'm nobody."

Devnos laughed. It was a harsh, wild sound that burned Sanar's ears. "You'd think so, wouldn't you?" he sneered.

Her heart thudded in its protective cage.

Devnos leaned in close, disdainful black eyes burning her mocha gaze. "It's the way it should be, isn't it?"

She stepped away, trying to adjust to his inexplicable moods. Why, she wondered, was she shaking? "How long have you known?" she asked, thinking back on the Brother.

Again, that laugh. "For far too long."

What Sanar didn't realize was that they were talking about two entirely different things. That had always been their greatest hindrance.

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Any comments would be appreciated :)

.Tjz