Page 77 of Lost in Barbarian Space

Colm smiled. “Of course I did.”

“I see your cockiness didn’t suffer like your memory.”

“It’s confidence, my friend.” Colm waggled his eyebrows. “It’s only cockiness if I can’t back it up. Besides, right now, I’m just happy to be alive and to have my nanami sickness gone.” It was like a death sentence had been lifted.

Kavon turned, looking out into the distance where the mountains of the Darken Wilds darkened the horizon. “I wish you’d told me.”

“At first, I wanted to keep it a secret from everybody. I hoped I wouldn’t turn out like my father. Once I realized the sickness was creeping in…you were so busy with your grand plan to rebuild your family name and get revenge for your father’s death. I didn’t want to take you away from that. I knew how important it was to you. Then you met Aurina.”

“You are my best friend, Colm, and my right hand.” Kavon clasped Colm’s arm. “I always have time for you, no matter what.”

Colm slapped his hand against his friend’s shoulder. “I know. I’ve never doubted your loyalty or your friendship. I’m sorry. I should have told you.” Colm smiled again, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had been sitting on him like a dark cloud all day. “I think a feast is just what I need. And I certainly have something to celebrate.” He winked. “I think I’ll put my charm to good use tonight, and convince that lovely supervisor from your grain mills to spend a few hours in my bed.”

He watched Kavon’s face go blank. There was no good-natured ribbing, no smile, no roll of his eyes.

Instead, Kavon cleared his throat. “You enjoy the feast, my friend. You deserve it.”

His warlord turned and walked toward the door.

Colm frowned. He was missing something. “Kavon?”

His friend paused.

“When you told me of my adventure on Ansar and discovering the ship, you said one of the Institute team members was with me.”

Kavon’s back stiffened but he didn’t turn around. “Yes.”

“You never told me who it was.”

There was a long silence. Colm’s frown deepened. His friend was definitely not telling him something.

“It was Agent Brandall, wasn’t it?”

“Yes,” Kavon said finally.

Colm turned back to lean on the railing. Ah, that must be why he felt a strange pull to the woman. He saw her below, moving between the boxes. “She seems competent.”

Kavon turned now, his face serious. “She saved your life. In more ways than one.” Kavon’s face twisted with what appeared to be frustration. “I have to go. I’ll see you at the feast.”

Colm continued to watch Agent Brandall. Yes, she was all crisp competence, and obviously intelligent. Between giving orders and moving boxes, she talked with curious Markarians who drifted past. He watched a group of village kids accost her. She crouched down, smiling, and showed them some of the artifacts nestled in their boxes. She smiled and stood, ruffling the kids’ hair.

Colm felt his nanami vibrate. He frowned, looking around. Something was wrong.

There was a sudden shout. He heard a metallic clang as something hit the cobblestones of the courtyard.

“Agent Brandall! There’s a live explosive in one of the boxes,” one of the uniformed agents called out.

“Everyone back,” Brandall shouted. She pushed the kids away. “Go!”

“Shit,” an Institute agent called out. “It’s heating up.”

Colm saw it now. It was a long piece of metal, about the length of his arm. It was beginning to glow an orangey-red. He pressed one hand to the balcony and leaped over it. He dropped the several feet to the ground, bending his knees to absorb the impact. People were running in all directions.

Except for Agent Brandall.

She was running toward the explosive.

“Agent Vasto, containment box. Now!”