By Elizabeth Ann Scarborough, Anne McCaffrey
Acorna's humans, the Linyaari, have all started reclaiming their homeworld from the ravages of the brutal Khleevi. however the first wave of explorers has unlocked a bigger secret concerning the origins of the Linyaari -- one who has led Aari, Acorna's liked lifemate, on a deadly trip from which he may well by no means go back.
surroundings off on a quest to discover Aari, Acorna and her associates -- Captain Becker, Mac, Nadhari, and RK -- are compelled to crash land at the attractive and barbaric unique jungle international of Makahomia, domestic of the mysterious Temple Cats. yet an evil scheme threatens to smash the sacred pussycats. to avoid wasting the cats, Acorna will lead a band of rebels on a trip into Makahomia's temples and hidden sanctuaries.
And there, inside of one sacred shrine, she is going to observe surprising details which could bring about Aari . . .or to catastrophe.
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Additional resources for Acorna's Rebels
What I should have said is that he does not wish to conceive of a world from which, et cetera. Of course, he knows that after him everything will continue on much as before, except that there will be a minuscule absence, a barely detectable gap in the so-called grand scheme, one unit fewer now. Or not even that, not even an empty space where he once was, for all will rush immediately to fill that vacuum. Pft. Gone. Recollections of him will remain in the minds of others for a while, but presently those others too will die and his few relics with them.
I see them. ” “In the dark. ” She blinks slowly and swallows, as if she might be about to cry, but it is only a tic, one among the many that afflict her. “Leave me alone,” she mutters. He is so much larger than she is. As a child she used to sleepwalk, appearing at the top of the stairs with her eyes rolled up into her head and her mouse-claws lifted in front of her chest. At the memory the small hairs stir at the back of Adam’s neck. His loony sister, hearing voices, seeing things. With a cocked big toe he pushes shut the cupboard door.
He thinks of Helen, his wife, asleep up in the room that used to be his when he was a boy. Stretched beside her rigid and wakeful in the pre-dawn dusk he had wanted to rouse her but had not had the heart, so soundly was she sleeping. He might go up now and lie down again on the too-narrow bed and close her to him, but something that is a sort of shyness, a sort of fear, even, holds him back. Good thing, by the way, that this young husband does not know what my doughty Dad, the godhead himself, was doing to his darling wife up in that bedroom not an hour since in what she will imagine is a dream.
Acorna's Rebels by Elizabeth Ann Scarborough, Anne McCaffrey