Skyfall by Catherine Asaro Read Free Book Online

gold. They had similar minds in their power and lack of nuance, but their personalities differed. Aggressive in his ambition, Kurj seethed with an anger Roca only partially understood. He had hardened after the violence with Darr, but it wasn’t until his years as a Jag pilot that his rage crystallized and the barriers separating him from Roca became insurmountable.
    Roca had no good comparison—but wait, she had left out someone: herself. She took after her father, tall and robust, gold instead of dark. She had inherited some of his mental power, but leavened with her mother’s subtlety. Her interest in politics tended toward her mother. Her artistic bent probably came from her father, though he claimed to have the artistry of an iron brick. Although both her parents enjoyed her dancing, he seemed to understand more how it made her feel.
    She might come closer in mental style to this Bard than the others in her family, but she hadn’t found a good comparison. It left her without a way to understand him. He descended from stock that had evolved independently of hers, producing a psion unlike anyone in the Ruby Dynasty.
    Roca became aware of the Bard behind her. He knew she was studying him. That startled her. Neither Kurj nor Jarac would have realized it. If Kurj had somehow guessed she was analyzing him, he would have tried to influence her conclusions. The Bard made no such attempt; he had just waited patiently.
    “You are quiet for a long time,” he said.
    She leaned back so he could hear her better. “Why you tell me nothing about yourself?”
    “You never asked.” He traced his finger over her ear.
    It unsettled Roca to realize she liked it when he touched her. She knew why; psions produced pheromones targeted for other psions. Nature compensated for their high mortality by driving them together with chemical cocktails, spurring them to make babies. But knowing that in theory and dealing with it in practice were two very different matters. Disconcerted, she pulled her head away from him.
    Disappointment came from his mind, but he answered her unspoken question. “I am Eldrinson Althor Valdoria.” After a pause, he added, “You may call me Eldri.”
    “I am Roca.” Too late, she caught her mistake. Odd that she was so flustered. “I mean Jeri.”
    “Roca is a good name.”
    “Jeri.”
    He laughed. “Roca. I know.”
    “No you don’t.”
    “I do indeed. I know when people lie.”
    That piqued her interest. “How?”
    “I just do.”
    “Something they do? Their voice?”
    “No. I don’t think so.”
    “So how you know?”
    He shifted behind her. “It doesn’t matter how.”
    Roca had no doubt he felt it in their minds, especially hers, given the bond they were forming. She didn’t think he realized what he was doing, though. “You have good English,” she said.
    His laugh rolled out, deep and chiming. “Better than you.”
    “True.”
    “Why can’t you speak your own language?”
    “Is not mine. I am Skolian.”
    “I have never heard of Skolians.”
    Roca frowned. The Allieds had better be able to answer for this, moving in here without telling the natives their origins. From what she understood, the Allied port had been here for three years. That was plenty of time to inform her people about this rediscovered colony.
    It occurred to her that Eldri must have developed his fluency in English in only three years. Or less. “How speak you English so well?”
    “I listen to Brad, the Reversed-Bard.” He laughed at his joke.
    “I listen to many. For years. I not speak like you.”
    “Why do you ask how I know things? I just do.”
    Softly she said, “Psion pick up language fast.”
    “Psion? I don’t know this word.”
    “Empath. Telepath.”
    “I don’t know those, either.”
    “Empath feel emotions. Telepath read thought from emotion.”
    His grip on the reins tightened so much that his knuckles turned white. “It is not true!”
    His vehemence surprised her. She indicated