Authors: Cyndi Friberg
“I’m sorry,” she said, touching his upper arm.
“You just sounded so smug. I felt you needed to be brought down a notch or two.”
“About what did I sound smug?” He shrugged off her hand and started walking.
“Mystics don’t need conventional conveyances,” she mimicked, exaggerating his superior tone.
He paused and looked at her. “We don’t. Why does that make me smug?”
“It wasn’t what you said so much as
how
you said it.”
Shaking his head, Tal continued walking.
Charlotte paused by a flowering bush. “The colors are so bright. They don’t look real.” She gingerly touched a florescent pink bloom.
“Come.”
“What’s your hurry?” Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at him. “Excuse me if I find an alien world interesting. Unlike you, I’ve never seen one before.”
“The Conservatory is neutral ground. You will be safe there.”
She fell into step beside him, the excitement of their arrival diminished by the subtle reminder of Dez dar Joon. The image of his cruel face, twisted with sadistic pleasure as Flur lay dying, flickered to life within her mind.
“You will be safe,” Tal repeated.
She must be broadcasting again. Maybe Vee could teach her how to keep her feelings to herself. They came to the crest of a hill and she paused again. A wide valley spread before them, sharper hills providing a backdrop against the lavender sky. A crystal-blue stream dissected the valley, lined by the Ontarian equivalent of weeping willow trees. Their long, slender branches trailed in the water, providing shade and privacy beneath a leafy canopy.
In the middle of the valley, straddling the stream, rested a stately building. A high, domed center rose from the lower sections that formed a perfect square.
She could only see two sides, but the wide-railed gallery appeared to encircle the structure. The thick columns and elaborate sculpting brought to mind the Parthenon or Greek revival mansions of the Deep South.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
Tal only nodded and headed down the grassy hill.
“I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“Yes, you did.” He turned to face her at the bottom of the slope. “Do you realize the restraint it has taken not to pressure you to share your body with me?” How was she supposed to answer that? A painful knot formed low in her belly, the same unyielding tension that had gripped her each night as they lay in the same bed, facing in opposite directions.
“I haven’t been with a woman since Flur. Eight cycles, Charlotte. I could have taken you during the energy transfer that first night in your dwelling. Do you realize how badly I wanted you—needed you? I could have convinced you I needed another transfer. I could have seduced you gradually—”
“Why didn’t you?”
His jaw clenched and his hair uncoiled, spreading around her and drawing her gently toward him. “Is that an invitation?”
“Do you want me to come back later?”
She heard the amusement in Dro Tar’s question and felt her face burn. She stepped away from Tal and smothered a groan as his hair stroked across her skin in silken farewell.
“Trey asked me to remind you that your father is waiting for a report,” Dro Tar said.
Tal’s eyes never left Charlotte’s face but a smile curved one corner of his mouth. “I haven’t forgotten, and I’m sure my brother knows it. I’ll see Charlotte safely protected within the Mystic shields and send others back for Vee. Then I’ll report to Prefect Aune.”
* * * * *
Pausing outside his father’s office, Tal transformed his clothing into a formal black suit with a wide belt and gold buttons. Prefect Aune expected every tradition to be observed and Mystic robes were only acceptable at the Conservatory.
Knocking twice upon the door, Tal waited for the correct verbal response.
“Enter.”
His father’s deep, authoritative voice made Tal smile. Half the world snapped to attention at the sound of that voice. Sitting straight and tall behind his massive desk, Prefect Aune waited for his son’s report.
“Trey’s transmission indicated the objective was not met,” Roe Aune said without preamble.
Tal didn’t expect a salutation. His father had been autocratic before the murder of his wife and daughters, but the atrocity had hardened him, destroying all traces of warmth.
Meeting his father’s gaze, Tal admitted, “We were unable to apprehend Dez dar Joon but we have the woman.”
“Who is she? What’s Joon’s interest?”
“We just arrived, Father. We were all nearly killed when Joon attempted to collapse the vortex. Vee is still recovering. He has yet to meet her.” Roe’s posture relaxed a bit and he folded his hands on the desktop. “Does she have any idea why Joon is looking for her?”
“None whatsoever. She’s an enigma.”
“Will the Mystic shields conceal her presence?
What does Joon know?”
Tal summoned a chair before his father’s desk, knowing he would never think to offer one. Courtesy was not his father’s concern. He had a well-trained staff to see to such things. “He’s back on Ontariese, but what Joon actually knows, I can only guess. It will not take him long to figure out that she’s still alive—if he hasn’t done so already.”
“Is she Ontarian? Could she be a descendant? And if so, why don’t we have record of her?”
“Her appearance is entirely Earthling and I was not able to determine otherwise when I scanned her.” His father nodded and pushed back from the desk.
“Let me know what you discover.”
Tal stood. “Of course.”
He had reached the door when his father surprised him by saying, “Be careful, Tal. Knowing what Joon risked to find this woman can only mean she is either important or dangerous.”
* * * * *
Tal stalked toward the row of meditation chambers, intending to check on Vee before he finished the conversation Dro Tar had interrupted. He ached for Charlotte with every fiber of his being. Even his well-trained discipline had its limits.
Why haven’t you?
With those three words she sealed her fate. Why hadn’t he seduced her? Why hadn’t he pressured her?
Why hadn’t he overwhelmed her? Why hadn’t he
taken
her?
The answer to each was the same. Because he was a fool. She wanted him. His patience hadn’t endeared him to her, it had frustrated her. Well, his foolishness ended today. He would know every curve and hollow of her silken flesh before the sun banished the night moon from the sky.
Rubbing his face briskly with his hands, Tal forced his thoughts away from the exasperating little Earthling one last time. He nearly collided with Vee as he exited one of the meditation chambers. Quickly stepping back, Tal said, “You appear much improved.”
“I feel much improved.”
“Good. I’m anxious for you to meet Charlotte.”
“You were able to learn nothing new while I was in stasis?” Vee asked.
“No,” Tal admitted. They walked out into the training room. “We followed Joon through the vortex but he was able to fling the ship off course as we emerged into Ontarian space. I’m sure that pleased him greatly.”
“He has returned to Fortress Joon?”
“Yes.”
“Then your plan was successful.” Vee offered him a rare smile. “We will not be able to hide her presence indefinitely, but we now have time to determine who she is and why Joon risked interdimensional transportation to locate her.”
“My father doesn’t see it so,” Tal grumbled. “Our mission was a failure in his estimation.”
“Prefect Aune can see no shade of gray. But this should be a challenge to thee, not a discouragement.” Tal nodded, acknowledging the wisdom in Vee’s words. “Are you strong enough to scan Charlotte?”
“Yes. I already summoned her.”
Vee motioned toward the arched entrance to the Training Hall.
Charlotte stood there with Mage Gerr. Tal watched the color drain from her face and her mouth gape. He waited for a smile to replace her stunned expression but instead she started screaming.
Charlotte spun on the ball of her foot and ran. Had they been working together all along? If Tal intended to deliver her to Dez dar Joon, why pretend to—
A hand closed around her arm, ending her abrupt departure, and Charlotte screamed again. She tugged frantically against Tal’s hold but his fingers wouldn’t budge.
“That is
not
Dez dar Joon,” he insisted.
Her muddled brain wouldn’t accept the simple explanation. She dug her fingernails into his arm and jerked against his grasp. “Let go!”
“Charlotte, look at me.” Tal brought her face up and captured her gaze. “That is not Dez dar Joon.
Look at him. See for yourself.”
Her breath froze in her lungs and the rapid passing of blood roared through her ears. Tal promised to protect her! It wasn’t supposed to end like this. His fingers gently guided her face to the side and she looked at the other man.
His long white hair and the sharp arrangement of his features were identical to Joon, but kindness and concern shone from his bright green eyes. Unlike the other Ontarians Charlotte had encountered, his eyes were one solid color, reflective and intense, like precious emeralds.
Gliding slowly toward her, his dove-gray robe rippled around his legs. He was tall and lithe, moving with the same inherent grace she found so fascinating in Tal. He extended the most elegant hand Charlotte had ever seen and waited for her to grasp it before he spoke in softly accented English.
“May Ontariese make thee welcome, Shar Lott. I am Vee.”
Heat spread up her arm and tension melted from her muscles until she could hardly stand. Tal’s arm wrapped around her, a much-needed support at the small of her back.
“I’m honored to meet you.” She managed to croak out the words despite the tears burning the back of her throat. She thought Tal had betrayed her. She thought… Shaking away the last of her fear, Charlotte squared her shoulders. “I apologize for my reaction, but except for your eyes, you look just like Dez dar Joon.”
Vee released her hand and smiled. “Actually, Dez dar Joon hath taken on my appearance but I understand your confusion.”
“If someone had warned me,” she glared meaningfully at Tal, “my
confusion
could have been avoided.”
Vee motioned toward the pillows lining the massive room. “Come.”
Charlotte took a step into the training hall and stopped. Though the large squares looked like marble, the floor was springy, like dense foam or rubber. She took another step, testing the resistance with a forward lunge.
“Come,” Tal echoed.
“Yes, sir.” She mocked him with a smart salute.
Seeing his father certainly hadn’t improved Tal’s mood.
They reached the cushions and she followed their example as she sat. “If someone hacks off your hair, do you lose your powers?” she asked, making a bland gesture toward Vee’s ankle-length braid. She wasn’t going to sit here passively while they examined her like a science project.
Tal looked confounded but the older man laughed.
“Our abilities are not linked to our hair as it was with Samson,” Vee said.
“Who is Samson?” Tal asked.
“A story recorded in an Earth text called the Bible tells of a man who had unmatched strength so long as he did not sever his hair.” He turned back to Charlotte. “As an Ontarian shape-shifter learns to control the movement of their hair, sensation is created within the strands.”
“Your hair can feel?” she asked doubtfully.
“Yes,” Tal affirmed. “Cutting it causes pain, like injuring a finger or toe. It’s also a means of identification.”
“If the shape-shifter wishes to be identified,” Vee added.
Humility must not be part of a Mystic’s training
, Charlotte thought with an inward smile.
Vee’s hair moved of its own volition to loosely circle his neck. It was not braided in the usual sense.
At least twelve partitions had been woven into an intricate pattern. Charlotte had never seen anything like it, so complex and beautiful.
She dragged her gaze back to his glittering eyes.
“How many shape-shifters are there on Ontariese?”
“Forty-seven have been invited to the Choosing.
Forty-one were chosen.”
“Why were the others turned away?” she asked.
“Especially if the ability is so rare?”
“Shape-shifting, as with any ability, is bestowed differently upon each person. Some are able to transform only one body part and hold the shift for an instant. For others, the change is effortless and they are able to manifest any shape they choose.” Vee’s voice flowed over her, relaxing her muscles, easing her anxiety. Was he doing it intentionally?
Could this man affect others with just the sound of his voice?
“Why has Joon chosen to emulate your appearance?” she asked.
“I should have forbade it when he first began, but he seemed only to amuse himself.” His lips pressed into a grim line. “I had no idea how violent his ambition would become or how he intended to use his ability.”
“Like what he did to Tal after he murdered Flur?” She cringed at how callous the words sounded. She hadn’t meant to be so insensitive.
Vee’s startled gaze shot to Tal. He seemed surprised Tal had told her.
“Precisely,” Vee said, turning back to Charlotte.
“Do ye know why I have summoned thee?”
“Yes. You want to scan me and see if you can figure out why he wants to kill me.”
“Murder may not be his intention,” Vee said.
“Only after he failed to abduct thee did he attempt to harm thee. Do ye know any reason for his actions?”
“I had no idea he existed until Tal crashed into my life.” She restlessly shifted on the cushion. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but I know what you’re going to do and I’d just as soon get it over with.”
“Tal Aune explained that thy mind resists any telepathic connection. Do ye understand the necessity of our learning his motivation?”
Pulling her knees up almost to her chest, Charlotte nodded. “I understand, but I can’t seem to get my brain to accept the understanding.”
Vee moved off his cushion, kneeling in front of Charlotte. “May I touch thee?”
She nodded and he extended his hand. His fingers hovered above her skin, moving from her face to the crown of her head in slow, even strokes.