Shield's Lady (Lost Colony #3)

"I have become extremely interested in the contents of these kits," Rakken was saying as he fingered the prisma lock. "The prisma alone is worth a small fortune, yet Shields are not known for their wealth. Targyn, of course, guards his kit closely. He would not deign to show me the contents. But a Shieldmate is supposed to be able to open her husband's kit."

"I thought we agreed I wasn't married to Gryph," Sariana pointed out wryly.

"A matter of semantics, I'm afraid. Married or not, apparently he has given you the secret of unlocking his kit."

"And you want me to unlock it now?" Sariana stroked the snake cat leather pouch. "I want to assess the technology of its contents," Rakken said quietly.

Sariana looked up sharply. "The technology? Why?"

"I want to see if it bears any resemblance to the technology of this room or the technology.of the crystal ship. Do you realize that if the legends are even somewhat true then Shields are not like the rest of us, Sariana? They may be more closely related to the beings who built the prisma ships than they are to you and me. Those kits may hold the key to figuring out just who and what they are. I have tried very hard to open that one and I haven't put so much as a scratch on its surface. The lock is sealed, even to Targyn. Using you as a threat, I might be able to persuade Chassyn to open it, but it would probably be simpler if you did the job."

"All this talk of aliens makes me nervous," Sariana said with a faint shudder. But she didn't take her eyes off the kit.

"I agree," Rakken murmured. "But it is better to be prepared for anything. We are taking some grave risks, my dear. We need to know as much as possible about what's going on. The Shields keep entirely too many secrets. The weapon kits are one of those secrets. Open it."

Gryph watched Sariana slowly pull the bag toward herself. He concentrated on projecting the image of the small knife and how it could be palmed. At the same time he readied himself for whatever small disturbance he could cause. His fingers closed around his bottle of ale.

With a wary glance at Gryph, Sariana touched the prisma lock. Gryph could feel her concentrating. Opening the kit was still far from second nature to her. She was a little afraid of it.

Sariana licked her lower Up, touched the prisma once more very delicately and the kit yawned open under her fingers.

Gryph jerked his hand and the bottle of ale turned over with a loud flatter on the metal surface of the table. Automatically, Rakken glanced over at the toppled bottle. Simultaneously Lucky appeared from the folds of Sariana's skirts and skittered frantically around the table, small claws making tiny scratching sounds.

"In the name of the Lightstonn, where did that damn lizard come from?" Rakken made a grab for Lucky who nimbly hopped back into Sariana's lap and vanished into a pocket.

"It's okay, that's just Lucky, my pet scarlet-toe. You saw it once before in Serendipity, remember?" Sariana patted her pocket protectively. "Sorry about that. It usually stays in my pocket, but I think it's nervous right now. Lucky's been through a lot recently."

"Well, keep him or it out of the way," Rakken said grimly as he eagerly reached for the open kit and pulled it toward him.

"I'd be careful putting my hand in there if I were you," Gryph said in mild warning as he laboriously tried to mop up spilled ale.

Rakken looked up, startled at the thought of a trap. Then he pushed the kit toward Sariana. "Empty

the contents onto the table," he commanded.

Sariana shrugged and turned the kit upside down. A variety of small gadgets fell out. Gryph studied them intently. The palm blade was not among mem. He allowed himself a measure of hope.

Rakken poked cautiously through the items on the table. He picked up the tiny vapor lamp and flicked it on, but he didn't figure out the second switch that ignited the blinding flare of vapor. Next he fiddled with a small gadget that opened without any warning and revealed a set of tiny disks. The edge of each disk was very sharp. Gryph felt some satisfaction when Rakken accidentally cut his finger on one.

"What are those damn things?" Rakken demanded in disgust as he quickly bound up his bleeding finger in a small scarf.

"Throwing blades," Gryph explained easily. "One of the metal working clans make them for us." Rakken glared at him and went on to the next gadget. Carefully he experimented with one cleverly

designed implement after another, but in the end he jumped to his feet in irritation and began pacing the room.

"There's nothing in that kit that couldn't have been made by local craftsmen," he complained. "What did you expect?" Gryph asked calmly. "Local talent is all any of us have to work with. We're all

stuck on this planet together, Rakken. That's something Targyn seems to have forgotten, but the rest of us haven't."

"Never mind," Rakken said as he strode back to the table. "I thought there might be something useful in there because you damn Shields are so protective of the kits. But the lock is the only oddity, there. It's of no use to me. It looks like the mysteries of the weapon kits are just another idiotic legend."

Gryph kept his mouth shut. If the man didn't realize that the real value of the kit was in the prisma lock, far be it from Gryph to remind him.

"What next?" Sariana asked uneasily. She glanced from Rakken's face to Gryph's as she quietly scooped up the contents of the kit and dumped them back inside. Then she closed the pouch and released the lock.

"If I'm going to do anything about Targyn," Gryph pointed out, "someone will have to let me out of this twist. What about it, Rakken? Have we got a deal?"

Rakken glowered at him. "Maybe. Maybe not. I'll decide in the morning. I want to talk to Sariana in private before I do anything drastic."

"I'U need the kit," Gtyph said persuasively. With the kit in hand his limited set of options would broaden considerably.

But there was no chance to talk Rakken into putting the weapon kit within reach. The three of them went still as a faint shushing sound announced the opening of the metal door. Targyn

stood in the hall, a blade bow held casually in one hand.

"Something tells me dinner is over," Targyn said. He glanced at the weapon kit on the table. Then he looked at Rakken. "You're a fool, banker. The first thing Chassyn would do if he got hold of the kit is kill you. The fact that you're still around tells me he didn't get a chance to get his hands on it. Even in a twist be could do the job if he had access to some of the tools in that pouch. All things considered, that might not be such a bad idea. I'm hot sine how useful you are anymore."