Cosmic Rift, Book 4 in the
Grand Masters’ Galaxy
Empath
Violet embarks on a new and desperate mission to find her missing lover.
Violet’s
happy family is shattered when Athanor Griffin vanishes. The formidable Grand
Master might have teleported anywhere in the galaxy. Violet strives to find her
psychic partner, while looking after their baby and fulfilling his duties on
the Council. Her frantic search uncovers a new threat to galactic civilization
along with resurgence of the infamous Ixioth slavers. The Council dithers in
response to her call for action, and even her former allies believe the Griffin
is dead. She must risk her son, her psi-powers, and her life to rescue her
beloved mate in the hope they can unite to fight the menace.
Chapter One
Violet
sat in the nursery of the Griffin’s Eyrie, rocking her baby son in her arms and
crooning a lullaby. Little Varan smiled at her. At nine months old, the jet
black of his short hair rivaled his father’s. His blue-green eyes were solemn,
his eyelids drifting lower as he grew sleepy.
The
orange cat, Rascal, a furry weight across her shoulders, purred his loud, “Love you, love you.”
The
two fluffies curled at her feet like a pair of oversized bunny slippers. Dilly
and Dally had identical white noses and long silky fur, although Dilly had
conspicuous white patches on her brown flanks. Their alien minds mumbled a
contented refrain, “Sleep, happy sleep,
sleep happy.”
Her
usual entourage of bedtime assistants, except for Athanor, her beloved psychic
partner. They had exchanged vows and rings at a formal ceremony, and now, she
held their son. Violet hummed to little Varan, alert for his father to pop in
at any moment. Athanor was travelling on diplomatic affairs for the Grand
Masters’ Council. He teleported home almost every day, arriving at odd hours,
depending on the event and planetary cycles at his target. Often, she
accompanied him, leaving Varan in the Jackson’s care. But this morning, their
little son had been fretful, and she had stayed home to soothe him.
She
glanced out the nursery window and smiled at the georgous scenery. Low on the
horizon beyond the orchard, the sun sparkled on the turquoise waves of the
ocean. She loved the Griffin’s Eyrie, the beautiful planet where Athanor had
built his castle, and her home for almost two years. After Varan fell asleep,
she could tackle her tasks. She ought to check the reports from the drones in
orbit around her planets, her share of the booty from ousting the conspirators
on the Council. Unlike their opponents, she complied with the formal goals of
the Council to foster peace and recruit new sapient entities into the Galactic
Congress.
Judging
the time with the precision of habit, she laid her sleeping son in the crib,
kissed his mop of dark hair, and tucked the blanket with the blue griffin
around him. Varan sighed, but did not wake. The two fluffies hopped over the
rail and snuggled beside the little boy. She brushed her fingers over their
long silky fur. Displaced from her shoulders, Rascal rubbed against her bare
legs and mewed for his share of attention.
Now
their son was asleep, she allowed her love for Athanor to rise to the forefront
of her mind. Her formidable partner had spent the past month visiting members
of the Galactic Congress. He worked tirelessly to advocate peace and encourage
psychics, determined to rectify the past failures of the Council. To most
people’s surprise, he was a devoted father, playing with his little son for
hours. His telekinetic skills were invaluable. He could flick a finger to clean
the baby with a psi breeze. At times, he looked after Varan while she chatted
with her friends at the Academy. She admired his kindness as much as his strength
of purpose and astute mind. Two years ago, she had feared she would never
find a man who would love her in spite of her ability to read emotions. Now her
worries seemed foolish. Athanor enjoyed their psychic link, and he could block
her probe if he wished.
“Violet!” Athanor’s mental cry pierced
her thoughts.
Pain
stabbed her temples.
Varan
wailed.
Rascal
yowled. The fluffies uncurled and twitched their little noses in the air.
Had
they heard Athanor or just picked up on her alarm? She couldn’t think clearly
with the baby crying. Damping the upsurge of her emotions, she picked up her
son and soothed him with a song. Ten minutes later, he quietened and she laid
him back on the mattress. His quiet breathing comforted her. The two fluffies curled
against his small body. Only the cat was still roused and angry, his tail
whipping like an orange flag. He stood on his hind legs and pawed at her thigh.
The
pain had eased. But, something had changed. Violet made a mental sweep through
the castle. The only other inhabitants, Zoe and Jamail Jackson, were in the
kitchen. Zoe hummed as she cleaned the stovetop. Jamail put down the knife he
was sharpening and picked up a mug of beer. Undisturbed by any alarm, the
Jacksons were finishing their daily tasks.
Violet
froze in sudden comprehension. Athanor had gone. She had no sense of his mental
presence. What had severed their psychic link?
She
gasped a sob. Only last night, he had been in this room with her. He had come
to see her and their son and stayed overnight before returning to Council Hall
in the morning. Later in the day, they had talked via the amethyst he wore on a
chain around his neck. Touching her forehead where the matching amethyst was
embedded, she reached out mentally. Nothing! She could not sense him.
Had
he met an accident, or… was he dead? She shuddered in horror. What tremendous
power could silence a Grand Master in his prime, protected against known
hazards?
Violet
dashed to the library with the cat bounding at her side. Standing on tiptoes,
she pulled the wire cap from a high shelf, and fitted it on her head. She
perched on Athanor’s swivel chair, dangling her feet off the floor and leaning
her elbows on the desk, while she focused on the contact reinforced by the cap.
Still no thread of his thoughts, not even a dim vision of his environment. She
groaned. Nothing would be visible if he had slipped the crystal under his
shirt.
Violet
laid the wire cap on the desk. She activated the hologram of the galaxy and
frowned at the rotating spiral arms. He could be on any planet or moon.
Anywhere within the galaxy.
Sharing
her puzzlement, Rascal jumped onto her lap and meowed. She stroked him
absentmindedly, while she pondered the problem. Most days, Athanor worked from
his office in Council Hall on Terra. He joked he never knew what emergency
awaited his attention when he arrived. Who would know his latest travel plans?
Amarylla Threeleaf was the most likely to be informed about current diplomatic
events. The flower Grand Master often assisted Athanor with Council business.
Violet
rotated her wrist com to expose the miniportal, a device for instantaneous
communication across the galaxy. She had received the special com after her
acceptance into the ranks of the Grand Masters. Almost nobody besides the Grand
Masters had access to this special technology. Nobody, except for their
powerful ally, the Black Dragon. With his usual foresight, Athanor had asked
Master Smith Stimon to manufacture a miniportal suitable for Ythris.
Placing
a fresh data chip in the com, she composed a short message and spoke aloud into
the recorder, “Brightness Amarylla, where did Athanor go today? I fear for his
safety.” She tapped the code for the Wistralian Grand Master and transmitted
her question. Violet settled back in the capacious chair, hoping for a rapid
response. Surely Amarylla would understand that she would not send the message
lightly, but had good reason for anxiety.
Before
five minutes had passed, a pillar of pink radiance appeared in the middle of
the library. Spinning to a stop, the shimmering pillar resolved into the giant
three-petalled flower of Amarylla.
Violet
sprang to her feet and bowed, “Brightness, you are welcome.”
The
scent of roses wafted across the room, and Amarylla rustled, “Peace, friend
Violet. Brightness deemed your query urgent.”
“I’m
not sure,” Violet admitted. “But, I’ve lost all sense of Athanor. It happened
suddenly, a few minutes ago.”
“Brightness
tastes your acute senses.” Her petals opened wide and the edges crinkled. “You
fear the Griffin drifts into danger.”
“But
where?” Violet shivered. She reached the tip of her forefinger to touch the
edge of a rosy petal. “I have to find him. Rescue him if need be.”
“The
Griffin has been touring the main branches of the Galactic Congress.”
“Our
allies, I believed.” Violet did not hide her sarcasm. Athanor had shared with
her what he had learned in the Chair’s records. Threat of retaliation by the
Council of Grand Masters had prevented interplanetary wars on many occasions.
No other group in the galaxy wielded a weapon to match the united powers of the
Grand Masters.
“Allies
and enemies,” Amarylla agreed. She fluttered the tips of her petals.
“Brightness captured breeze from Griffin not three standard days past. Grand
Master Ravaleen, Meilai of Marina, urged his azure presence in her realm.”
“He
told me about Ravaleen’s message. I believe he meant to visit her today if
nothing more urgent came up.” Sizzling curls of lilac psi, Violet paced up and
down the room. “I must go to AguaSalva. Ravaleen may know what happened to him.
But, I cannot leave our little son untended and unguarded for long periods.”
“Brightness
asks to taste the young bud.”
Interpreting
the plantoid’s oddly phrased request, Violet halted and nodded. “Certainly, you
may visit Varan. Come with me.” She walked across the hall into the nursery.
Her rootlets scraping the wooden floor, Amarylla glided after her. The baby lay
asleep in his crib beside the furry balls of Dilly and Dally.
The
flower Grand Master extended the tip of a petal to touch the baby’s head.
“Small bud tastes sweet. Brightness foresees son of powerful parents will grow
strong.”
“Varan
has little power yet. He can scarcely crawl.”
“Sip
patience. Human buds grow slowly.”
“Yes.”
Violet sighed, “I wish his father were here.” The baby stirred in his sleep.
Immediately, she squashed her fears for Athanor, laid a hand on the boy’s arm
and crooned to calm him. When he slept soundly again, she turned to Amarylla
and whispered, “Let’s move outside so we can speak without disturbing my
baby.”
Returning
to the library with Amarylla, Violet shut the door and resumed a businesslike
tone. “Brightness Amarylla, I must search for Athanor. Did he leave an
itinerary for his tour?”
“Brightness
sipped no news beyond what we exchanged. Chair’s office may offer a scent of
his passage.”
Eager
to take action, Violet smiled. “Flashy! We’ll search in Council Hall. I can
leave Varan for an hour or two while he sleeps beside the fluffies.”
Amarylla’s
leaves rustled, “Entry to the Chair’s office is barred.”
“He
gave me the key. We’ll port together to his door.” Violet touched a fingertip
to the edge of a pink petal and tapped the enhancer behind her ear. With the
powers she had gained as a Grand Master, she no longer needed to travel via the
teleportal cylinders. They flipped into the eerie virtual space of whirling
lights. Skimming along the quantum surface of an intersecting universe, they journeyed
across the galaxy to Council Hall on Terra.
An
instant later, they stood outside the Chair’s office. Violet shielded quickly.
She had become accustomed to the stark white walls and black tiled floors,
although she still felt oppressed by the grim interior of Council Hall. She
tossed a stray lock of hair off her face, stepped to the door and pressed the
palm of her hand over the lock. The door swung open with a lilac flicker of her
psi energy.
The
office was still and cold. Athanor had removed the green jade desk and ornate
carved chair of his predecessor, Nathan, Lord of Lightning. Instead, he had
installed a plain desk of polished mallan wood and a large leather swivel
chair. The shelves held the same stacks of ledgers yellowed with age and faded
brown folders holding many years of records.
Amarylla
waved her petals, wafting rose-scented warmth into the air.
Ignoring
the cold, Violet perched on the big chair and frowned at the blank white pad of
paper on top of the desk. She pulled the center drawer open. On the right hand
side, she found a notebook with a blue cover. Flicking through the pages, she
reached the final sheet with notes scrawled in Athanor’s large handwriting.
She
pointed to the name and date at the top of the page. “AguaSalva. According to
his notes, he planned to travel to the planet this afternoon and meet with
Ravaleen. Surely, she would have sent a message if he had met with an
accident.”
Curious
about Athanor’s notes, she flipped to the previous page and read the lines
silently, “Request for medical supplies
from Aoli. Done. Request to oust killer slugs from Chiaxi. Done. …” She
flipped through pages of tasks he had completed. Placing the notebook on the
desk, she rested her elbows on the glossy surface and cupped her chin in her
hands. Yes, some ventures she knew about. But, others were new to her. Athanor
had not told her about all his tasks. He didn’t grumble about his duties as
Chair.
She
blurted, “Amarylla, I didn’t realize how much he did. All these things he did
to promote galactic civilization.”
“Brightness
swears the Griffin is the best Council Chair in generations.”
“He
did all these important tasks while protecting me from every worry since I was
tending to our child.” She stared at the pink petals. “We must find Athanor.
The galaxy needs his leadership. Our son needs his father, and I need my dear
partner.”
“Brightness
scented the Griffin’s visit to the Meilai of Marina. What of his future
ventures?”
Looking
down at Athanor’s notes, Violet said, “The next item on his list is appraising
the security measures at the portal station on Aman-el. They are hosts for the
formal meeting of the Maanaan and Yelliast leaders to sign their peace
treaty.”
“Their
war claimed many lives. The peace treaty must be signed.”
“Yes,
Athanor worked long hours with both sides to negotiate their ceasefire and
reach a peace agreement. He believed the Council should take responsibility
since their first accord was disrupted by the failure of the portals.”
Amarylla’s
petals fluttered. “Griffin’s absence from the meeting will be proclaimed a
deadly insult by the two parties.”
“Voids!”
Violet frowned. “We can’t allow them to begin another war.” She traced the
dates in Athanor’s notes. “The peace conference will be held in seven Terran
days.” Projecting optimism in spite of her doubts, she said, “Surely we’ll have
found Athanor well before then.”
“Brightness
wafts success.”
Frowning
in concentration, Violet considered the options. “First, I’ll visit the Meilai
on AguaSalva. There’s no indication he completed this item of business. If he
traveled there, Ravaleen may have news of his next destination. Will you go to
Aman-el, Brightness, and assess their security precautions?”
Unfurling
her pink petals, the flower Grand Master agreed, “In dry season, Brightness
represents the Council Chair.”
“Take
Lira,” Violet suggested. “Your Aman-ellan pawn has acute instincts for danger.”
“Agreed.
Waft message if Griffin found.”
“Instantly,”
she promised and waved goodbye. Before she traveled to Ravaleen’s island
residence, she wanted to check what Athanor had taken from the castle.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You can find earlier books in the series HERE
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