Shadow Hunters by Christie Golden Read Free Book Online Page B

thebeverage on the marine vessel the
Gray Tiger.
He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. This was a black marketer’s vessel, after all. While he was up, he opened the medkit and found something for his headache.
    The thought of the
Gray Tiger
made him think of his friends who had died aboard that ship. He wondered if he would ever remember them without this rush of commingled guilt and pain.
    Eventually you will be able to. Once you fully understand what it was for which they died.
    Don’t suppose you’re going to tell me this century?
    Zamara chuckled at his turn of phrase.
There are things you must know first, as I have told you repeatedly.
    Be happy to learn them, so long as you watch out for Rosemary.
    Of course.
    Jake took another sip of the coffee, looked at the green light, smiled to himself, and closed his eyes.
    Jake stood with the rest of the templar as their fallen brother, their leader, their friend, made his final voyage. Jake was not a young protoss, and this was not the first friend to whom he had bade farewell. But it never got easier.
    Zoranis had been popular with his people. Thousands had turned out for this solemn ceremony, lining the Road of Remembrance for almost its entire length. The Road of Remembrance led from the provincial capital of Antioch, wound for several kilometers west, and ended at the ruins of an ancient xel’naga temple. Broken steps led up to a flat surfacewith a pool that collected rainwater. Here, the honored dead were ritually bathed, dressed for burial, left for a day’s cycle under the watchful care of loved ones so that the sun, moon, and stars would shine upon them, and then laid into the earth for their final rest.
    While the ritual itself was ancient, performed by each tribe even back during the Aeon of Strife, the Road had come into existence only after the protoss had embraced the Khala. The Road of Remembrance was a physical symbol of the Path of Ascension. As all protoss were joined in the Khala, so now all veterans and protoss of note, no matter their caste, were given the honor of traveling the Road of Remembrance. Jake had seen artisans, scientists, templar, and members of the Conclave alike being borne on a floating dais, a stasis field surrounding their bodies with a halo.
    This was the first time he had walked beside the body of a high templar, though, and he hoped it would be the last.
    Zoranis had fallen in honorable combat. He was not one to sit back and let others take all the risks while he made all the decisions. His choice had cost him his life, but had won the battle—as had his decision to have his second-in-command fight beside him.
    The young protoss Adun was already becoming something of a legend. He had fought at Zoranis’s side for over eighty years now. Few had seen a more graceful warrior in physical combat or a more intelligent strategist. Some petty folk had implied that Adun was the real driving force behind most of Zoranis’s decisions over the last fifty years. Jake actually hoped so. Because if it was true, then Zoranis’s good leadership would not have died with him.
    He walked solemnly, his heavy, formal robes brushing the earth. On either side of the white-paved road were lines of mourners. They were hunched over, shaking, their skin mottling in the unmistakable sign of grief. Zoranis was not only well liked, but well loved.
    In the Khala, there was nothing but heart, and hearts were full today. Jake let the respect, admiration, and sorrow wash in and around and through him, adding his own genuine grief to the mix.
    Beside him walked Adun. Young, vibrant, intense, and strong, he was everything the templar were supposed to be. As an active warrior—Jake was too old to participate in combat, though he had excellent tactical knowledge—Adam wore his armor, and it gleamed golden as the sun that glinted off it. A half a head taller and a bit larger than any of the other templar, he was a commanding presence. His grief was a bright thread