by Autumn Dawn
Bottom lip between her teeth, Andrea nodded. “When you made friends."
"Yes.” She looked at Andrea. “It must be hard for you right now. Did you have to give up a lot when Mathin brought you here?"
Just her world. “Not in terms of material goods, if that's what you're asking."
"It isn't."
Andrea sighed and held the piece of fruit she'd been chopping in her hand. “Everything's so weird here. The culture shock is rough to deal with. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever get over it."
"Tell me about it. But people are people wherever you go. If I've learned anything from the Haunt, it's that. Don't let the setting confuse you; you can make friends—and enemies—very easily here."
"Enemies. Those I don't need.” Andrea shuddered. The thought of being hunted by Haunt chilled her.
"I know.” Jasmine said sympathetically. “Don't dwell on it. Mathin is more than man enough to keep you safe no matter where he takes you, but do your best to be prepared, because you never know.” Jasmine gave the kids a quick smile from across the room. “I hope you're ready for an adventure. From what I remember the place you're going is pretty rough."
"You've been there?"
"Sure. It's where Mathin's sister took me when she kidnapped me."
Stunned, Andrea could only stare at her. “Mathin has a sister like that?"
Jasmine grimaced. “Not any more. Mathin killed her when she tried to attack us here."
Shock made Andrea sit down fast. Compassion warred with disbelief. “How could he do that?” Breaking Jasmine's arm, killing his sister ... what kind of man had she tangled with?
"They were engaged in battle. If it hadn't been Mathin it would have been Keilor or one of the others.” Jasmine watched her soberly. “The Haunt don't mess around when it comes to justice. Yesande more than earned her sentence."
Yesande. So that had been her name. A sudden tension in her neck threatened to bloom into a headache.
The symbiont stirred. It flowed up her arms and twined around her neck, radiating warmth. Slowly the muscles relaxed.
Shivering at the odd sensation, Andrea didn't fully relax until the creature twined its way back to her forearms.
Jasmine smiled in sympathy. “It takes a while to get used to, doesn't it?"
"I'm not sure I want to get used to it."
"Try. There are lots of odd things here,” Jasmine told her earnestly. “You have to learn to roll with the punches if you want to stay sane."
Two hours later, Andrea was still trying to absorb her new knowledge of Mathin as she shared dinner with him in her grandmother's room.
"Don't be silly, dear,” her grandmother insisted stubbornly. “I most certainly can go anywhere my granddaughter goes. I know you can protect us both."
"It's a long ride,” Mathin warned her. “You would not like the wagon."
"That is quite enough,” she said, giving him a no nonsense look over her tea cup. “I am going. Now stop this foolishness and tell me about the place where we are going."
After dinner Andrea and Mathin took a walk.
"This is beautiful.” They stood at the top of the citadel, gazing over the shadowed land. Three moons glowed with the soft light of Japanese lanterns, washing the redwoods and the sea beyond in silver. If the beauty of the night had not been enough to steal her breath, her companion was more than enough.
He stood near, leaning on the parapet wall with her. Not quite close enough to touch, but enough to set her nerves jangling. She tried to calm her breathing. Her body was not quite ready. Tomorrow.
Equally affected, Mathin tried not to breathe at all. Every inhalation brought the intoxicating scent of her. Hunger buzzed through his brain, lower. Keeping his hands off her was difficult. Even so, he dared not kiss her. Stopping would be impossible with the way his body reacted. Desire paced inside him, a volti, barely leashed.
"You do realize you'll be the first woman I've fought for in twenty years.” He hadn't meant to say that, but it effectively changed the subject.
"Twenty years?” Andrea scanned him in disbelief. “What were you, twelve? No way you're older than thirty.” She paused and considered. “If that."
Mathin's smile was mysterious, and just a touch smug. He gazed out at the nightscape.
Curious now, and slightly annoyed, she demanded, “Well, how old are you?"
"Beautiful evening."
"Mathin...."
"Did you notice the golden tint to the small moon? The rains will be here soon."
"You're not going to tell me, are you?"
"It would disturb you."
That did it. She was definitely curious now. “I'm already disturbed.” When his smile turned wicked, she threatened, “I could ask someone."
"No one will tell you."
She refused to believe that. Someone knew. Maybe she could bribe it out of one of his friends with some of the candy she'd made for the twins that afternoon. “Give me a hint."
"I'm older than you are."
"A better hint!"
He turned and rested his elbows on the wall, smiled. “Beat it out of me."
Andrea snorted. As if. Still, his vest was unlaced and gaping open. Hadn't she wanted to touch him all night? She reached for him.
Agile as a wild thing, he evaded her touch. “Can't catch me.” He flashed her a taunting smile.
"Can.” She stalked him.
He let her get close, but never close enough, careful to remain just out of touch. She lunged for him, missed. Chuckling, he silently dared her to try again. There was no way she could ever catch him, so it surprised him when her symbiont snaked out and whipped around his wrist.
Almost immediately it began to wilt.
"What—” Andrea gasped as a wave of dizziness washed through her.
Slipping out of the symbiont's now weakened hold, Mathin steadied her. “Easy. Symbionts and the Haunt don't mix. They are very happy to touch another human, or almost any other animal, but never one of us. We think our bodies are simply too alien."
"I'll remember that.” The nausea was fading now, but she still felt rather yucky.
"Please do.” One arm around her, he walked her toward the stairs. “Once, Jasmine forced her symbiont to heal a wounded Haunt. She nearly died. It took another symbiont to heal her."
"Why do you still fight with the humans here?” They descended the dim stairway side-by-side, holding on to the railings.
"Technically, we are observing a truce. We haven't had a reason to mingle, and both sides seem to like it that way."
Something in his tone told her he didn't like it as well as the others. “I wouldn't mind meeting some of them."
He smiled at her. “If you like. My lands border their swamps. I'm certain they'd be very interested in you.” They'd reached her door. Before he could talk himself out of it, he stole a fast kiss. Even that was dangerously potent. “For luck."
I'll give you luck, she thought breathlessly, but wisely didn't say it. The memory of his touch was enough to fire her jets, and she wanted to—"Don't get hurt tomorrow,” she said, shunting aside her feelings. The grin he gave her was almost enough to send her to her knees.
"Couldn't happen."
* * * *
As she watched from her gallery seat the next evening, Andrea fervently hoped he was right.
Jasmine touched the back of her hand, giving her a gentle smile. “Don't worry, Mathin's the best. He's going to wipe the floor with these guys.” She shifted Malix on her lap.
Andrea smiled rather sickly back.
The box they were using held Jayems, Rihlia, Jasmine, Andrea and the children. Keilor was down on the field, helping out.
It was dusk, and laser torches had been lit, ringing the circular arena in bright flames. The aisles of the seating area were also lit, making the area look like a sunken wheel with spokes of fire.
In the center of the arena was an elevated series of grids shrouded in vines. Andrea blinked, squinting in the torchlight. H
ad that vine just moved?
A giggle drew her attention to the gallery next to theirs. Ellipse and her daughters held court, smiling at the crowd. Ellipse's crown of twisted iridescent silver and pearls gleamed on her upswept hair. As if sensing Andrea's gaze, Ellipse turned her head and favored her with a confident, knowing smile.
Andrea's throat tightened as Ellipse nodded to her, then murmured an aside to her daughter. Whatever she said won a laugh from the young woman. With a rueful look at Andrea, the daughter returned to watching the crowd.
"Rumor has it Mathin is going to claim you for his prize.” Jasmine smiled when Andrea blushed. “Your grandmother's been hinting that there's to be a wedding tonight."
"No wonder she didn't come,” Andrea muttered. “She knew I would strangle her."
Jasmine laughed as the crowd began to stir. “She told me she just didn't approve of male silliness and refused to watch. I'm supposed to report everything I see later."
Chucking, Andrea turned her attention to the ring. Fifteen men strode onto the field, eight of whom wore red sashes. One by one they began to call out the names of the women they chose as “prizes", should they win.
"Aldreah, Terah's child."
"Celsi the Golden."
"Sometimes the women date the guys afterward, even if they don't win,” Jasmine explained. “It's terribly romantic to have a man fight for you. Lots of marriages come about this way."
"Andrea the Sylph."
Andrea gasped and looked out at the field. That hadn't been Mathin's voice.
A man in a red sash was staring at her, waiting for her to acknowledge his words. “Raziel?” she croaked in astonishment.
His white teeth flashed in a grin. “Mathin should not win such a prize without effort, madam. I am here to see he has it."
"How romantic!” Ellipse exclaimed, leaning over the balcony to smile at Raziel. “Has it not been a dozen years since you've entered my tournament, dear Raziel?” She glanced at the scowling Mathin. “But our Mathin has not made his declaration. Do you also choose the Sylph Andrea for your prize?"
The look Mathin turned on Andrea should have sizzled her on the spot. “She is already mine."
Raziel laughed and saluted Jasmine with a nod as the men paired off.
"You set him up to this, didn't you?” Rihlia demanded of Jasmine, grinning.
Jasmine lifted a shoulder and raised her hands helplessly. “Raziel thought it was a great idea."
Down on the field, Mathin gifted Raziel with a droll stare. “Jasmine?"
Raziel shrugged. “She thinks Andrea will appreciate you more if you have to work for her.” The creak of the massive doors opening caused them both to draw and activate their blades. One never knew what kind of interesting surprises Ellipse might spring at her tournaments.
Out of the darkness marched—
"Female warriors?” Raziel gasped.
Mathin was just as shocked. Men never competed with women. Even with these women in Haunt and full battle gear, the ridiculousness of it held the men frozen in place. How were they supposed to defeat these women without hurting them? Was that part of the challenge?
Behind the twenty female Haunt emerged twenty dancers. These women were dressed in identically in red harem pants and short vests. The pants were slit at both inner and outer thigh and cuffed at the heel. As they danced with their long, silken scarves a strange, drugging perfume wafted over the men.
Reminded of Andrea's natural, desire-producing scent, Mathin blessed the Deity for his recent exposure. Hopefully the slight immunity he'd built up would serve him in good stead now.
The Haunt nearest him, a huge female, lunged at him even as the dancers withdrew to circle the fighters. He swung out to block her blade with his. His sword slashed through hers, finding no more substance than smoke. Then a blow struck him full in his unprotected ribs.
"Don't panic!” Jasmine clamped a hand on Andrea's wrist before she could dash down the stairs and out to the field. Even as she spoke Mathin recovered from the blow and countered, actually hitting his attacker this time.
"Keilor told me about this. The drug makes them see almost in slow motion. Their brains are processing the movements about three seconds late. As soon as they figure that out and start using their blind-fighting skills they'll be fine. Look."
Mathin seemed to have figured that out. His strikes were now steady and accurate, and devastating to his attackers. He fought back to back with Raziel, and together they successfully repelled the female Haunt. Those who had not been captured followed suit, and in minutes the first wave withdrew.
The dancers came forward and wafted vials under the men's noses, then left them to recover as they danced for the crowd.
"A moment of your time?"
Andrea glanced up to find one of Ellipse's daughters at her side. Ellipse had retired to the back of her gallery and was watching her. It took only a moment to join her. “Yes?"
Ellipse gestured for Andrea to join her on her divan. “You know that Mathin and I were intimate for a time?"
The woman didn't waste time! “Yes,” Andrea answered cautiously, wondering where this was going.
Ellipse studied the men on the field. “I was always a ruler first, a woman second. Mathin is first a man. We both understood this, and parted friends.” Her smile was rueful. “Still, I am fond of him, and wish him well cared for. I think you will treat him as a man first, which is more than most of the women here would do. Often I think that is why he remained unwed.” She extended her silver goblet to Andrea. “You will make him a good wife, and time will make you a good lady wife. Share a drink with me and be friends. He will need you, and it could be he will also need me."
Cautiously, Andrea took it. The wine within was herbal, powerfully intoxicating.
"Not too much,” Ellipse cautioned. “The wildwater is too powerful to be taken freely by humans.” She accepted her cup back and gestured to one of her daughters. “I have a gift for you."
Curious, Andrea watched the girl as she drew the cover off a cage and opened the door.
Her eyes widened as she saw what was inside. “Is that ... a baby griffon?” The animal had the head and wings of a bird of prey, but the body of a white lion. It squawked sleepily as the girl handed it over and then cuddled into Andrea's arms as if they were old friends.
Ellipse smiled fondly at it. “A very rare animal this far south. The white ones are especially prized. They are very good with children, but fierce protectors. Your children will not lack for a guardian all the days of his life."
"Why are you doing this?"
Ellipse raised a brow. “I'm far too forward to have ulterior motives, lady-to-be, and I know where to pick my allies. You might wish to find a seat—they're about to begin again."
Andrea barely scrambled back to her chair before the next challenge began.
"Nice pet,” Jasmine offered, turning her attention back to arena before Andrea could say anything.
The captured men—six in all—had been bound and blindfolded, and now hung upside-down from the arena wall. The dancers and lady soldiers had disappeared, replaced by some menacing male Haunt with pikes. A hissing wall of fire, thigh-high, snaked between the prisoners and the nine remaining men. The fire was slowly creeping toward the hostages.
Haunt snarled, taunting the men who ranged themselves into a wedge with Mathin at the tip. There had to be at least five Haunt to every fighter. To Andrea they looked like a fatal black wave as they formed a block and waited for the attack.
Mathin fought with impressive skill, but it was his bravery that Andrea would never forget. Not once did he flinch or falter, and no one ever got a second chance to strike at him. Few got that much.
He was almost wild, and he used his whole body. A fear seemed to come over the Haunt, and they began to melt away from him. Blocked by the fire, they attempted to fight their way around, but the warriors with Mathin wouldn't allow it. In moments, more warriors joined the fray. The prisoners had escaped
and leapt the fire. These fought bare handed against the Haunt, and amazingly, prevailed.
"Told you so,” Jasmine said, grinning. “Look! They're splitting into two ranks. It's time for the last contest."
Andrea nodded tersely in acknowledgment and wiggled her stiff fingers. They were going numb from her tight grip. Tension coiled in her belly, making her feel sick. This stupid tournament couldn't get over fast enough for her.
Nine men approached the grid structure and swung up on it. The entire thing swayed as they ascended the multilevel platforms.
Andrea felt the blood drain from her face as they drew their swords. They were going to fight up there?
She must have looked bad, for Jasmine reached over and pried free one of her hands and held it. “Mathin will be all right, Andrea. Just believe."
Blue light flashed as the men attacked. The fighting was vicious, and almost immediately one of the men crashed through the grids to a lower level as his opponent slashed it from beneath his feet. Cat-like, he landed on his feet, balanced on the bouncy grid as two more men came at him. Slowly they backed him up against an outer support post and against the vine. Instantly the vine twined around him, holding him securely in place.
Haunt came forward to free him and send him from the arena.
A small scream lodged in Andrea's throat as Mathin stepped backward off the edge of the platform to avoid a concentrated attack from three adversaries. As he fell he grabbed the edge of the platform. Hanging on the edge, he struck out with his blade and cut the grid from under their feet. Cursing, they crashed through, taking one man down with them.
One armed, Mathin flipped back onto the platform.
"Can he fly, too?” Andrea croaked in disbelief.
Equally breathless, Jasmine whispered, “Sometimes I wonder."
One by one men fell until only Raziel and Mathin were left on the top level. What was left of it. Great ragged holes turned the grid into a dangerous web. Stimulated by the activity, the vine was growing ever more active.
Sparks flashed as their blades came together. Showing incredible agility and spatial awareness, they danced over the grid, the lightning of their strikes nearly blinding in the darkness. Lit blue, their faces showed ruthless determination and—
