To Trade the Stars by Julie E. Czerneda Page A

reason you chased us down, isn’t it?” he said more than asked. “And why you wanted to see me alone. You believe Ren Symon had something to do with Fodera’s death. You’re trying to drag me back into all this—to help you find him.” Morgan almost spat the last word.
    Bowman steepled her fingers and regarded him without flinching. “No denying you could be of use. But you’ve made it abundantly clear, Morgan, that you want nothing to do with our investigation into Symon’s band of disenchanted telepaths. Frankly, if they’d stuck to species-specific criminal acts, I wouldn’t care about them either. But I don’t believe Symon’s plans have ever been that small in scope. Do you?”
    â€œI don’t think about his plans or him,” Morgan ground out, sensing Terk coming to alert at the hostility in his voice. “Leave me out of this. Leave Huido out of this!” Heaven only knew what was leaking through his link to Sira.
    Too much, Morgan realized belatedly, as the lithe form of his mate rematerialized, her hair whipped into a frenzy as if she were some avenging goddess come to his rescue, her expression equally wild. The M’hir seethed and burned with power.
    He winced.
    Which might have been at the thought of explaining Huido’s current predicament to his beloved.

Chapter 5
    T HAT night, my dreams were crowded with evil Huidos and Human heads on platters. To make things worse, I awoke to find myself alone.
    I stroked the sheet beside me. Warm. Morgan hadn’t left long ago. My seeking thought ceased almost instantly. My Human was troubled and, if he sought time to himself, I would obey his wish.
    I’d been wrong to ‘port to Bowman’s ship—I knew better than to act by reflex rather than sense. Normally, I would have delayed at least an instant, knowing Morgan’s capabilities and awaiting a true summons. Glumly, I decided the combination of Enforcers in body armor, what Bowman and Tie had to say, and the Rugheran’s surprise visit had seriously shaken my confidence. In other words, more Chosen cowardice.
    One could hate biology.
    More important than my personal embarrassment was that I’d cost Morgan a chance to extract further information from Bowman. Of course, left alone, he might have agreed to something he shouldn’t. For a being without Talent, I thought, the Chief was exceptionally proficient at manipulating others.
    I carefully avoided thinking about the Carasian. Strong emotion was the most difficult to keep from my Chosen, and I experienced plenty whenever I considered Huido and his latest culinary masterpiece. It wasn’t, however, the outrage Morgan assumed.
    It was foreboding.
    Like Bowman, the murder of a strange Human—even if our friend was suspected of the crime—didn’t matter to me so much as its consequence. We were going to Plexis.
    Which meant someone had known exactly how to lure Morgan there.
    Just when the Acranam Clan had exerted themselves, in secret, to be able to travel from their system? Coincidence, I’d found in my lifetime, didn’t exist when it came to matters of power.
    I pulled the covers over my head, as if that would help.
    Â 
    Troubled or not, I drifted back to sleep. Morgan didn’t return, but my awareness of him—perhaps heightened by my earlier, anxious thoughts—increased, saturating my dreaming mind until, abruptly, it was as if I looked out his eyes, felt what he felt. He seemed to sense me only as my sleeping presence; I remained unsure if I dreamed or floated closer to consciousness.
    It had to be a dream, I decided, moving with Morgan as he strode down the ship’s corridor to the air lock, lights night-dimmed. We’d connected the Fox to the Conciliator , a gesture of trust to Bowman and convenience for Morgan. That much of what I saw I believed. By why was Morgan here?
    ... Time dilated, or I lost the threads as my