“I can transform it into anything you like.”
“It would still be an animal.”
“I don’t understand you. You balk at eating an animal whose purpose is to provide us with food, yet you can kill a man without blinking? Or is it because of that?”
He shrugged. Answer enough.
“What do you do in the wild?”
“I bring provisions or do without.”
She shook her head, wondering if she’d ever understand this complex man. “I have fruit.”
“Fruit’s good.” He looked at her and his slight smile took her breath away.
She grabbed a basket from its hook over the counter. Her palaple tree in the courtyard was loaded with ripe fruit, so it only took a few moments to fill her basket and return to he kitchen.
He watched her as she unloaded the basket onto the counter. She glanced over her shoulder. “I promise, only a few moments more.”
“No hurry.” He moved behind her and looked over her shoulder. “I’ve gone days without eating. A few minutes won’t kill me.”
He didn’t touch her. He merely watched her as she transformed the palaples into the different fruits she wanted for their salad, but his very nearness had her nerve endings tingling.
She sliced a tart palaple into crude chunks and transformed them into succulent berries. That should do it.
“How do you do that?”
“It just takes concentration.” She demonstrated on a melon, transforming it into a palaple then back again. “I can transform anything into another form of itself, plants into plants, animals into animals.”
“People into animals?”
She nodded. “They are a form of animal, but I must have something to work with. I don’t have the power it takes to conjure something from nothing.”
“And what you did in the bar?”
She shook her head. “That was just an illusion. Shape-shifting isn’t one of my gifts.”
“But there are people who can?”
She nodded. “A good portion of our Sentinels are shape-shifters.”
“Sentinels?”
“They watch, here and on other worlds. They let us know what’s going on. Their ability to change shape helps them to blend in with the people they’re watching. Much of the information I had about you came from them.” Much of it was wrong.
He picked up a berry and held it in his hand. Slowly, it reformed but before she determined what it would be, it shriveled and blackened. He grunted, dropping it as if it burned. She almost felt his disappointment.
“You’ll get it. You just need to learn to balance your give and take. You’ll see.”
He shrugged and returned to his chair.
Sighing, Jelena returned to slicing the fruit. After a few moments, she strode to the table and set a colorful bowl of fruit salad in front of him. He sighed appreciatively and dug in.
She smiled as she took her place across from him. Who would have thought a tough man like the Magician would find so much pleasure in a bowl of fruit. A bloody steak she could see, but berries?
He glanced at her, a juicy chunk of melon poised near his mouth. “What’s so amusing?”
“Nothing.”
He raised an eyebrow. His tongue darted out and caught a drip that would have splashed on her table.
She closed her eyes, praying for strength, then opened them quickly to watch the fruit disappear into his mouth. Dear Ali’ra, this man affected her far too powerfully.
“Aren’t you hungry?”
She swallowed thickly and nodded. Heaven help her, she had a taste for something other than food. Her gaze traced the curve of his lips. Would he pull away if she tried to kiss him? The look in his eyes prompted her to try.
Slowly, she rose to her feet and walked around the table to him, giving herself time to judge what he would do.
He pushed back from the table and watched her, a touch of wariness in his eyes.
She grasped the arms of his chair and leaned down, stopping when her lips were a breath away from his. “Is this all right?”
He nodded.
She licked the sweetness from his lips.
He groaned softly but didn’t move, didn’t touch her. “What do you want from me?”
She stilled. What did she want? “A kiss.”
He pulled her onto his lap, her legs straddling his. “You want me.”
She nodded.
He kissed her neck, flicking his tongue against her pulse, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.
Large wings, beating the air, broke through her impassioned fog. She pulled away, putting distance between them.
Her mother’s owl perched on the windowsill.
“Tell Mother we’ll be along just as soon as we’ve finished our morning meal.”
Drake raised his eyebrow.
The bird swiveled his head from her to Drake, then chirped and flew away.
“My mother always sends him when she wants me to visit.”
“Why bring me?”
“He’s her familiar. He’s sure to tell her that I have a guest. She’ll be insulted if I don’t bring you along. Besides, I don’t want to leave you alone.”
He fiddled with the fork in his hands and nodded.
She wasn’t sure, but he almost seemed disappointed by her response. He couldn’t actually want to meet her family. No, she read too much into his lapses of quiet. Not that Drake could ever be accused of being too talkative. She had to badger him for more than a sentence or two at a time.
Perhaps he was disappointed that they’d been interrupted. “We can continue where we left off when we return,” she whispered.
He nodded but before her lips brushed his, he turned his head.
Straightening, she sighed, wondering what she’d said now? Would she ever understand him? “If you’re ready, I can port us there in a second.”
“Can we walk?”
“It’s not that far. Are you sure you’re feeling well enough?”
He nodded. “I’d like to look around.”
“All right, but on one condition—if you tire, or the pain becomes too much, you’ll tell me. I’ll port us the rest of the way.”
He flashed her a small smile. “Deal.”
Jelena felt as if she’d just won a major battle. Would he tell her? Yes, she’d been with him long enough to sense that he wouldn’t break his word once he’d given it.
She smiled at him. “Are you ready? I promise, we won’t visit long.” Actually, the thought of using his weakness to leave almost immediately was very appealing.
He caught her hand. “I never thanked you for saving my life.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Yes I do. You didn’t have to come after me. You could have walked away and not looked back.”
“I couldn’t do that.”
“Worried about your track record?”
“No, I was worried about you.” She stared at him, not sure if he believed her or not. But she believed. “So many people watched.”
“It isn’t every day that the Magician gets his ass kicked. Hell, they saw me torn apart. Could have made a lot of money charging admission to see that.”
“That’s not amusing.”
“No, it’s not, but it’s the truth. Whoever ended up with my dagger probably got a small fortune in tiles for it.”
“I have it.”
“How?”
“It was right beside you. They were probably too afraid to pass the Ursurs to get it.”
“May I have it?”
“You won’t need it here.”
“Please.”
That sounded like a word he didn’t use often. “Of course.”
She led him into the bedroom. Stopping in front of her dower chest, she swiped her hand over its lid, unlocking it, and stepped aside.
Everything she was able to find was here—his knife, blaster, wrist cuff, the tiles from his pockets, his federation ID. “I saw no sign of your cape.”
He retrieved o
nly the knife, slipping it into his boot sheath, and closed the lid on the chest.
Maybe having it in his possession brought him comfort, whether it would help him or not. It had probably saved his life many times. Jelena stilled. When had he become a victim rather than a villain?
He started to turn away and paused, running his hand over the chest as she had.
The lid opened.
“Nothing shriveled.”
She smiled. “Well done.”
He glanced up. His slight smile froze as he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. His fingers slowly crept up toward his cheek then he shook his head, letting his hand fall. “I’m ready.”
THEY SET off at a slow pace in deference to Drake’s wounded leg. Jelena noticed right away that his limp was barely perceptible in the bright sunshine. She wasn’t sure if his leg felt better, or if he simply refused to limp.
Probably the latter, stubborn man.
When they reached the end of her street, Drake stopped beside her and stared at the sprawling city below them. It had been built in a series of rings, like a target, each one slightly lower than the last.
“It looks like something out of Bellarissian history.”
Jelena nodded. Humans had once lived on the same world. It was logical that some of their architecture would look similar. Bellariss, being the most advanced human world, might very well be the home world of all humans.
“Our ruins are thousands of years old.” Drake’s voice was an awed whisper. “Some of these buildings have to be at least that old, yet they look as if they’d been built yesterday.”
“Your builders didn’t have the gift of magic to ensure their creations stayed sound and free of decay.”
“Explain the rings.”
“Surely your ruins lie in the same configuration?”
“Some, yes, but archeologists can only guess at why things were done. Reality could be quite different.”
“True.” Jelena smiled. “Our main temple lies at the center. Most of us visit the temple every day, so it’s only natural that the market place grew around it. The merchants and venders sell their wares and live in that ring, closest to the temple.”
“And the outer ring?”
“Residences. The Nar’gadesh, Nar’gadem, and Nar’gatal—Sentinels—prefer to live near our temples and training facilities.”
She pointed out the Guardian temple behind her at the forest’s edge, the Executioner temple on her right at the base of the mountain, and the Sentinel temple to the right of the mountain, where the grasslands began.
“The others reside wherever they feel most at home.” She swept her hand wide, to encompass the rest of the city. “My family lives on the other side of the marketplace.”
He flinched at the word family. “I need to let my people know I’m all right before they tear up Regula looking for me.” He rubbed his bare wrist.
“You’re utility cuff won’t work here. The spell protecting the city interferes with all electronic devices.”
“I doubt it would work anyway. I cracked it hard on the pavement when I went down.”
Jelena’s stomach clenched. She didn’t need to be reminded about how close he’d come to dying. Her fault… She shook her head, refusing to dwell on it. She wouldn’t fail him again.
As they walked, she explained what the different vendors sold and what made their wares so special. He absorbed it all, missing nothing, not even the adoring smile of a passing child. It was her smile that finally softened his carefully blank expression.
No one stared at him with fear and distrust. No one scrambled out of his way to avoid him. Drake didn’t quite know how to handle it. Did his missing tattoo make that much of a difference? After the way Cordan had reacted, he wouldn’t have thought so, but he couldn’t think of another explanation for why these people were so friendly.
It was very unsettling to be seen as nothing more than a curiosity. Well, a bit more in some cases.
Jelena moved a little closer to him each time a woman gave him more than a passing glance.
A woman walking toward them stopped and stared as they approached. Her hand curled around the pendent she wore, hiding it from view. Her gaze never left him as they strode by. He nodded to her. She thoroughly looked him over and gave him an inviting smile.
“Jezmar,” Jelena mumbled beneath her breath.
Drake chuckled.
Her face flushed. “She’s spoken for! Covering her pendant doesn’t change that. How dare she—” Her eyes widened. “You didn’t—”
“Hear you call her a harlot?” Drake forced himself not to grin. “No, of course not.”
She covered her mouth. “You understood what Cordan said?”
“Almost every word.”
“How is that possible?”
“Your language isn’t much different from formal Bellarissian. At least, your spoken language isn’t.” He glanced at a sign and shook his head. “I haven’t a clue what that says.”
“Fine Clothing,” she said absently. “I’m at a loss. I thought Federation Basic was a language your people developed.”
“They did, and most Bellarissians speak it. But, some of the farthest regions speak only Formal. The royal household is expected to interact with all its subjects.” Drake grinned. “The queen made me suffer through the language lessons with Morgan and the others.”
“It came easy, didn’t it?”
He jerked his gaze to hers, surprised. “It did.”
“I wonder how old you were when you left here. You must have been old enough to speak.”
He shrugged. He didn’t want to think about that. Worrying about a past he didn’t remember would only drive him crazy. It was better just to move on. When he said nothing more, she simply walked beside him and answered his questions.
Furniture, clothing, jewelry, meat, produce, the shops and stands were all here, same as any other marketplace he’d visited. But it was clean. The streets, the people, the air—everything was clean. In a city where magic was as normal as breathing, he’d expected something more spectacular. “Don’t suppose we’ll pass a tattoo parlor.”
She shook her head. “No tattoos. We won’t intentionally mutilate any part of our bodies—they’re sacred to us.” She tilted her head to the side and glanced up at him. “Do you really want to put that thing back on your face?”
Drake shook his head. In the mirror, he’d stared at the right side of his face, free of the mark he’d worn for so long, and felt nothing. He wasn’t compelled to have it put back. “I don’t need it anymore. I will have the tattoo put back on my forearm.”
“I didn’t see that one.”
“It wasn’t very big. Smaller than this.” He formed a circle with his finger and thumb. “And black. With my sleeves and my dark skin, it would be easy to miss.”
“What did it look like?”
The look on her face was something else, like a cross between horror and fascination. “A triangle with two links of a chain across the center.” He made a triangle with his thumbs and index fingers, and linked his two middle fingers together.
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s your Guild sign, isn’t it?”
He nodded. For others, the tattoo signified their allegiance to the Guild. For him, it was his blood-brother pact with Morgan.
The hair had hardly begun to sprout on their chests when they’d had them done. Well, Morgan’s chest anyway. His own had remained hairless. His beard never came in either and, as he saw all the hairless faces stride past him, he realized that it must be a Nar’galira trait, and not some failing on his part. His height wasn’t the only thing he’d been razzed about.
Morgan had his tattoo placed over his heart as a sign of what the pact meant to him, but he’d used a heat and pressure sensitive ink, so his mother wouldn’t see it. Drake was proud of his and had it tattooed right on his arm where everyone and anyone could see it.
When he’d started the Guild, uniting the criminals of Sullust, giving t
hem a code of ethics to live by, the privileged few who knew he was both “Rico” and “the Magician” had surprised him by having their arms tattooed with the mark. After that, it had become a Guild standard. He’d have it redone when he returned to Trakis.
“Do you mind if we go in here?”
He shook his head, looking into the shop window. Jewelry.
“Are you sure? If you’re tired—”
“I’m all right.” He motioned her toward the shop. The place was bright and cheery, unlike the establishments he usually frequented, and sparkled with precious gems and metals.
“Feel free to browse. I’ll only be a moment.” She disappeared through a curtain in the back.
He wandered around, running his gaze over all the different rings, broaches, bracelets, and pendants. The craftsmanship was truly impressive.
As he passed the display of pendants, one caught and held his gaze. It was of two lovers embracing—the man in gold, the woman in white gold—suspended from a fine chain that alternated white and gold links. He hooked his finger behind it and drew it closer. The design was simple, yet the word beautiful didn’t do it justice. So life-like. As he stared at it, soft feminine footsteps approached.
“Not merely lovers, but entwined mind, body, and soul.”
“Bonded,” Drake whispered. He turned toward the owner of the lilting voice and found himself facing a black-haired woman, not much taller than Jelena, wearing a silky, jacquard dress that matched her violet eyes.
Pride transformed her face from interesting to striking as she took the pendant from the display and draped it over his hand. “It calls to you.”
He nodded. That was one way to put it. His gaze drew back to the delicate little thing in his hand.
“It will call to your lady’s heart as well.” She tapped his wrist. “You are looking for a betrothal gift?”
“No. Nothing like that.” Would Jelena like it?
She looked up at him, a confused expression on her face as she accepted the pendant from him. “But, pendants are for—”
“Drake has been gone a long time, Mika. He’s unfamiliar with our customs.”
“Jelena, you’ve returned so soon?” She hugged her. “Your assignment went well?”
“It still goes.” Jelena nodded toward Drake.
“I see.” But it was clear by the expression on her face that she didn’t. She turned to Drake. “You won’t be needing this?”
Real Magic Page 13
