The Tigrens' Glory (38 page)

“Excuse me?” Summer asked in surprise.  “What does that mean?”

“Kelta?” Kyerion asked.

“We can start with that,” Summer said.

“
Kelta
is a title of respect,
lady
may be an equivalent in Standard,” Kirk explained.  “
Kelt
is the male version, meaning
lord
, which is used only for those Druids who have reached a high level of ability.”

“We’d never heard of Druids before you three,” Garen said.

“That’s unsurprising since only male Tigren were Druids,” Kyerion said.  “Females who possessed certain rare, non-magical abilities, were called
Druidess
, and could be of any clan.  There were few, but those that existed were always quite powerful.  Arima Summer is clearly a Seer Druidess.  That alone grants her the right to the title of
Kelta
.  The woman you spoke to us about, the Keeper, Arima Hope, is without a doubt a Druidess as well, as is Glory, with her ability to Dream Walk.  The power we sense coming from all of you is such that I suspect Arima Saige and Princess Lariah are also Druidess.  It is remarkable to find so many such women at one time.  There were few who could claim the title
Druidess
in our time.”

“Every Arima we’ve found so far possesses at least one such ability,” Trey said.  “Some, including these women, possess two.” 

“This is extraordinary,” Kirk said.  “We would very much like to look into that further at some point.”

“Of course,” Garen said.  “But that is for later.  Shall we begin?”

“Yes,” Kyerion said.  He walked to the far end of the larger table they’d created.  Lariah, Summer, and Saige sat holding hands at one end, with Summer and Lariah touching the power cup with their free hand, just as they’d done when they’d aided Glory.  Kyerion sat at the other end with Kirk and Cade on either side.  They held hands too, with Kirk and Cade each touching the cup with their free hands. 

Kyerion met first Kirk’s eyes, then Cade’s, before closing his own.  While the women gathered Spirit to fill the power cup, the Tigren entered a meditative state.  It seemed to take mere seconds before Kyerion opened his eyes, relieved to find himself in Glory’s valley.  A moment later both Kirk and Cade appeared beside him.

“It worked,” Cade said with a sigh of relief. 

“As Princess Lariah said, the third time was, indeed, the charm,” Kyerion said.  They turned and approached the door.  Kyerion reached out with one hand to grab the doorknob, almost relieved when his hand passed through it.   It was a proof of sorts that things were as they expected.  Kirk and Cade repeated the gesture, with the same result, as they’d previously agreed to do.  They then tested the rest of the valley, changing things, then returning them to normal.  When they were satisfied that they were in their own version of the dream valley, but that the door was not of their making, they again faced it. 

“I hope this works,” Kirk said.  Kyerion nodded.  He, too, hoped it worked.  If it didn’t, he had no idea what else to try.

“Why wouldn’t it work?” Cade asked in surprise.  “Glory did this on her own without the benefit of our knowledge, training, or experience.”

“This is much different, Cade, and we don’t have her gift with dreams,” Kyerion said.

“Different how?” Cade asked.

“She walked the real world from her meditative state,” Kyerion said.  “She used Spirit to empower her mental projection of herself with enough substance to effect the real world.  We are in a meditative state, in a dream environment, not a real one, and we need to solidify a dream object that belongs to Glory.”

“What do we do once we’ve solidified it?” Kirk asked.  “How do we destroy it?”

“If this works as I expect, we’ll have the same power over the door as we do everything else here,” Kyerion said.  “We’ll be able to destroy it in the same way we would one of those trees we created.”

“This dream stuff is confusing to me,” Cade said, shaking his head.  “Let’s just do this.”

Cade and Kirk each put one hand on Kyerion’s shoulders and they all reached for the Spirit that the Three had gathered and put into the power cup.  Then they focused on the door while Kyerion added Earth to strengthen the Spirit further.  They all watched as the door wavered slightly, then became less transparent before wavering again.  Kyerion felt it slip away, drew more Spirit and focused harder.  Something struggled against them, fighting to keep the door as it was.  No, he realized.  Not some
thing
.  Some
one
.  Glory.  He realized that she instinctively fought to maintain what had protected her for so long.  But that protection now formed her prison.  It had to be destroyed.

 Even though it went against every particle of his being to fight with their Arima, he clenched his fists, refocused, and pulled still more Spirit, this time allowing it to build up within him.  They
would
succeed.  They
would
free Glory, as she’d freed them.  And when it was finished, they would do all that they could to help her deal with the dark events of her childhood. 

Kyerion began to chant, infusing his words with his will and determination.  His voice rose, becoming command rather than plea.  Kirk and Cade added their voices to his so that the chant rose and fell with undeniable, unbreakable power, drawing the Spirit gathered by the Three out of the power cup, and into Kyerion. 

When he could hold no more without burning himself and his brothers to ash, he aimed it at the door and released it in a single, powerful blast.  The door instantly became so solid, so real, that they could feel with their minds the rough texture of the wood and the cold, hard iron that bound it. 

Kyerion immediately dropped Spirit and threw every ounce of will and power that he and his brothers possessed at the door.  For one heart-stopping moment nothing happened.  Then, suddenly, the door exploded into a million splintered fragments, the iron crumbling to dust.

Kyerion shouted a warning and all three of them hit the ground and lowered their eyes to the blue grass beneath them.  They sensed the black, sharp edged memories scattering around them like shards of broken glass, seeking their notice, their attention, their minds and souls.  They remained steadfast, unflinching, refusing to invite attention by as much as a single glance.  Finally, the shards moved away, spreading out into the ether.

Kyerion waited, sensing that the danger was not yet past.  He felt Kirk’s impatience but refused to be swayed by it.  Sure enough, another handful of wickedly sharp slivers flickered around them, moving so close that Kyerion himself almost flinched.  Only when they, too, had moved off did he signal to his brothers that it was safe.  He took a deep breath and rose to his feet before allowing himself to look up. 

Where the door had been there was now what looked like an irregular, dark gray cloud.  In the center of it, huddled in a ball on the ground, arms wrapped around her knees, lay Glory.  They ran to her, knelt on the ground beside her, then hesitated as they watched her tremble and shake violently.

The gray cloud surrounding them darkened and thickened in response to their uncertainty.  Kyerion scooped her up, then spun around and raced back to the center of the valley, Kirk and Cade so close their arms brushed as they ran.  Only when they were well clear of the darkness did they stop and look down at her. 

Cade brushed his fingers along her arm.  “She’s so cold,” he whispered.  Kyerion’s mind stuttered for a moment as he wondered if her dream body’s coldness indicated that her real body was cold, and what that meant.  He shook his head.  Glory was cold.  Therefore, they would warm her.  It was that simple.

He turned so that the golden rays of their dream sun fell more fully upon her face, and waited.  Glory gradually became warmer, her face regained some of its normal color, and they became calmer. 

“What now?” Kirk asked, unable to take his eyes from Glory’s face.

“Glory?” Cade said her name softly, beseechingly.  Her eyes fluttered, then slowly opened. 

“Cade?” she whispered.  Her eyes shifted from Cade, to Kirk, to Kyerion.  “What’s going on?”

“You know us?” Kyerion asked.

“Of course,” she said, her voice so faint they barely heard it.

“Then it’s time for us to wake up,” Kyerion said.  “All of us.” 

Chapter Thirty One

Glory opened her eyes and looked around.  The room was familiar.  Why?  She thought back, memories coming slowly at first, then more quickly until things came back to her in big chunks.

Banishment.  Waking dreams.  Jasan.  The
Ugaztun
.  The Tigren.  Hibernation tanks.  Pain.  And then a flood of dark, ugly memories of helplessness, blood, fear and excruciating pain, both physical and emotional.  She gasped and sat up, searching for something else to focus on.

Her eyes settled on two people she barely knew who were sitting at the table in her room.  They leapt to their feet and hurried toward her.  Who were they?  What were their names?  The answers were there, she just needed to find them. 

Doc and Darlene.  That’s who they were.  She allowed herself a brief moment of triumph as they crowded close to the bed, concerned expressions on their faces. 

“How do you feel?” Darlene asked, one hand reaching out to touch her forehead lightly with warm fingers.

“I’m a little confused, but otherwise I’m fine, I think,” she said, her voice sounding hoarse to her own ears, as though she hadn’t used it in a long time.  A thought slipped into her mind.  Her breath caught.  “The Tigren?”

“They’re safe, and should be here shortly,” Darlene said.  “The Xanti have been destroyed, and we are currently about three days out from Jasan.”

“It seems I missed a lot,” Glory said in surprise.

“Yes, but you’ll catch up,” Darlene replied, patting her on the hand.  “Later.”  Then she winked at Glory, turned around and started walking away.

“We need to examine her first, Darlene,” Doc said.  Darlene glanced over her shoulder, smiled, and reached for his hand.

“Later,” she repeated, tugging him along behind her.  Doc gave up and moved ahead to open the door for her.  They both stepped out into the corridor, leaving the door open. 

Glory frowned in confusion but before she could formulate the words to ask them what was going on, Kyerion was there, filling the doorway.  He looked exactly as he had in her dream walks, his golden eyes fixing on her as he stepped into the room.  Kirk and Cade followed right behind him, and she took a moment to feast her eyes on the three of them alive and standing there, in her room aboard the
Ugaztun
.  She remembered all of it now.  Including the fact that they were not for her.  She was human.  They were not.

She allowed her gaze to linger on them, just this once.  As stunning as they’d been in their black leathers, they looked even better in their modern clothing.  She took a moment to memorize them.  Then she withdrew, pulling back inside of herself.  Her expression smoothed, her shoulders stiffened, her eyes went cool and remote.

From the moment his eyes fell on Glory, Kyerion wanted nothing more than to pick her up from the bed and pull her close so that he and his brothers could see her, touch her, hold her, and reassure themselves that she was safe and well.  He got three steps into the room before the stark longing on Glory’s face stopped all three of them in their tracks.  Then it vanished behind a cool mask in the same moment that his mating fangs burst through their protective sheaths, a final confirmation that she truly was their Arima.

“I see you’re all safe now,” she said.  “That’s a relief.”

Kyerion hesitated.  Perhaps they should go slowly.  She’d been through so much already, and once she realized she had all of her childhood memories back, there would be more yet for her to deal with.  She sat there so calmly, as though speaking with males while sitting in her bed was nothing new to her.  He felt a snarl build in his chest at that mental image, his fists clenching with the effort to hold back, to think before he acted.

“Yes, we’re safe now, thanks to you,” Cade said.  “We’ve been very worried about you these last few days.”

“There’s no need to worry for me,” she said.  “I’m perfectly well.”  She looked down at herself, hiding a grimace at the pale yellow medical gown she wore, but glad that she was at least covered.  Her eyes widened when she saw her hands before she shoved them beneath the blankets, her face paling.  “If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to be alone now.”

Kyerion’s heart sank at her words and he started to turn, to leave as she’d asked, when something tickled his mind.  What was it?  He turned back.  “Would you please say that again?” he asked.

Her head bowed, shoulders hunched ever so slightly as she repeated her request.  Kyerion ignored the words.  He’d heard them fine the first time.  It was the way she said them that he focused on with all of his Druid skills.  Her body posture.  Her tone.  That tiny, barely there quiver in her voice that he very nearly missed the second time even though he waited for it. 

His eyes narrowed and he breathed in deeply.  Her scent was exotic and wild, like jungle orchids after a warm summer rain.  A scent he knew he’d never get enough of, even though it hardened his body to the point of pain.  He concentrated, pushing beyond her natural scent, and there it was.  The mingled scents of worry, fear, regret and buried most deeply of all, the faintest, softest, delicate scent of need and desire.

Kyerion’s control snapped and he walked around the bed, reached down, and pulled her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.  He turned so that Kirk and Cade could crowd close enough to press their bodies against hers.  They all felt her tremble, watched as she folded her arms across her chest so she could tuck her hands beneath them.  Kirk reached over, his movements slow and careful as he grasped one wrist and tugged gently.  She resisted, but he was determined.  Finally, with the tiniest whimper of regret and surrender, she gave in, allowing him to pull her hand into view. 

Kirk examined her fingertips, turning them so that Kyerion and Cade could see the tips of her retractable claws protruding just slightly from the ends of her fingers.  They frowned, but made no comment when they saw that what should have been sharp points had been filed flat.