"Oh that's just great. Now I get to deal with a committee of protoss." Selendis regarded her steadily and Rosemary sighed. "Well, let's get this party started."
"Do you wish more formal robes to be brought to you?"
Again Rosemary looked at the leather outfit. Sure, Selendis looked great in the night-sky robe with her perfectly polished armor. Rosemary had no doubt that she, too, would look stunning in such a dress. There had been times when she would have dressed well for a meeting. Rosemary was a mercenary, and she used all tools in her arsenal, including her body if she had to. But she knew that a female human body, attractive though it might be by her standards, wouldn't matter at all to a bunch of protoss. And in the end, that leather outfit represented the essence of who she was far better than any borrowed and tailored robe. She wasn't a protoss. She was a human female with a very dubious past. They knew that already. They knew everything already.
She thought about that time, seemingly ages ago, when she'd walked into her room at Ethan's compound wearing nothing but a robe to find Jake waiting for her. Jake was convinced Ethan was planning to betray them. And of course, he'd been right. She'd chosen the comfortable, somewhat battered leather uniform over asundress then. She would choose it over an exquisite protoss robe now. Much had happened between that decision and this one, but some things hadn't changed. Would never change.
She turned to face Selendis. "No thanks. I've got my familiar clothes here. That's who I am."
Rosemary felt a brush of admiration—reluctant, but real—touch her mind. She'd just risen a notch in the executor's esteem. An infinitesimal one, but a notch all the same.
As the two protoss left so she could dress in privacy, Rosemary thought she'd need every notch she could get.
A few moments later, Rosemary, clad in the supple leather that fit like a second skin, strode between two tall templar guards. They towered over her by more than half a meter, and they were dressed in no-non-sense armor.
"All this for little old me," she murmured to Vartanil.
"Do not flatter yourself, Rosemary," Selendis said, not even bothering to turn her head. She strode a few paces in front of Rosemary. "It is standard etiquette for a meeting of the Hierarchy."
"Whatever." They strode down a corridor, Rosemary hastening to keep up with the long-legged strides of her templar guards— whoops, it's etiquette, "escorts "—and up a ramp that led to a large oval door. It irised open to reveal a flight pad of sorts atop the building where Rosemary had been kept prisoner—whoops again, "guest." A small ship awaited them. Rosemary raised an eyebrow. Dark templar technology, it had to be. Protoss technology for sure— nothing humans made was so pretty, and while she didn't know much about what the zerg did, she was willing to bet it wasn't aesthetically pleasing—but there were no blues or golds here, just dark hues and a soft green glow. Perhaps the constant twilight hue of the planet made it seem darker than it was, but it was definitely a craft that had been made by a people who spent time in the shadows.
Rosemary had spent a lot of time in the shadows herself. She respected that.
She climbed in and sat down, watching the pilots as best she could, wishing that this was her vessel and that she and Jake were about to head somewhere and—
She blinked. Since when had her fantasies about open space and a ship to fly it in included Professor Jacob Jefferson Ramsey? It was an alarming thought.
Rosemary distracted herself by peering out the window. She could make out dim shapes in the purple-blue below her, spires and towers and smaller, shorter buildings in a variety of shapes and sizes. They were darker blue, with tiny dots of illumination flickering to show that living beings dwelt there. At one point, she passed over something looming and huge that did not resemble any of the architecture she'd seen before. Even she, who was seldom moved by art or architecture, found herself barely breathing, pressing her face to the window to gaze at the thing. It looked like an ancient pyramid, or ziggurat, made of several levels that climbed skyward. Each level was limned with glowing, pale blue and purple light. Khaydarin crystals. At the top, visible even from this distance, an enormous crystal hovered. It was very similar to the one she'd seen in the chambers beneath the surface of Aiur.
"That is the temple," Vartanil said reverently. He, too, was gazing almost hungrily out the window at the mammoth structure that was slowly moving out of their field of vision.
"Oh? Like what Jake found?"
"Yes and no," said Selendis. "Both bear the mark of the Ihan-ril's, the xel'naga's, guidance. But the temple which you and Jacob explored is something quite different from this. Such a thing is more —organic. Wild." Something in the tone of Selendis's mental voice indicated she did not approve of wildness. "The temple you see below you is mathematically precise and orderly."
"Like the Golden Mean. One to one point six."
A flicker of surprise from Selendis. "You know of the ara'dor? The perfect ratio?"
"Jake did. That's how he found Zamara in the first place—she'd left a note, which of course we couldn't read, and sealed herself inside the temple somehow. So Jake was at even more of a disadvantage than a protoss would have been. But he made the connection. He.. .doesn't think like other people do."
"Obviously."
The temple and its flickering, oddly haunting lights was gone. Rosemary leaned back in the chair. "Selendis—can you tell me what I'll be facing when I go in there? I'm not really a people person, in case you hadn't noticed."
At that, Selendis ducked her head and half closed her eyes and laughed more heartily than Rosemary would have given her credit for. "Yes, Rosemary Dahl, this thing I had noticed." She sobered slightly. "Yes. I will prepare you, because I believe in this cause, if not the messenger of it."
That stung more than Rosemary expected, but she brushed it aside. "All I want is for us to find and help Jake and Zamara."
"I know this now. And—they will know that as well. Be prepared to have your mind read immediately upon entering the hall. By everyone present. For the entire duration."
Rosemary's fists clenched and she almost literally growled.
"Rosemary...do you know about Matriarch Raszagal?"
"Raszagal...Jake met her through Zamara's memories. She was just an adolescent when she left Aiur. She's still alive?"
"No. And let me tell you why."
Jake stared at Zeratul. "You...you killed her?" Zamara—why did you bring me to this guy? He betrayed his world and killed his leader! We 're supposed to put my life and the fate of this secret of yours in those kind of hands?
Patience, Jacob. To know all is to understand all.
Jake's voice revealed his shock, abhorrence, and trepidation. Zeratul did not cringe from it. He stood straight and nodded confirmation.
"Yes. By my own hand, I murdered our beloved matriarch." "In God's name, why?" "Because she asked it of me."
Jake's mind continued to reel, and Zamara continued to be silent. Jake thought about why someone might ask such a thing. "She... was she ill? Wounded beyond healing?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes. Raszagal... our beloved matriarch.. .powerful and wise.. .was being used. Used to betray herown people. Used by one so cunning and unscrupulous that to this day, I cannot fathom the depths of that mind."
Jake thought he'd gotten it. "Ulrezaj!"