“Mmmhmm.”
“Hungry?”
He shook his head. “They fed me.”
“About today—”
“Forget it.” He rubbed his eyes then stared at the ceiling. Not a cobweb in sight.
“I don’t want to forget. About what Master Kedar said—”
“They were baiting me.”
“But you didn’t deny it.”
“Denying it would have convinced them they were right.”
“But they’re not?” She took a step into the room.
Drake stared at her. What the hell did she want from him? A declaration of undying love? She wouldn’t get it.
“I need to know.” She chewed on her lower lip.
“Why? Will the words make it all right to want me?”
She threw up her hands. “Never mind. Let’s just go to bed.”
He shook his head. “If I get into that bed with you, I’ll make love to you.” A tremor ran through her body. His tightened in response. So did his voice. “I can’t do that.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Why not?”
“You’re hot for me, but you don’t want me.” He shook his head. “I just can’t do that.”
“I don’t understand you.”
“What’s to understand? I can get sex anywhere. I want more from you.” Much more.
Those little white teeth tugged on her lip again. “But—”
“The next time I join you in that bed, it’ll be because you want me there. All of me, not just the part that makes you hot.”
“I—”
“Goodnight.” He pulled his shirt over his head and laid it on the chair next to him.
She turned toward her bedroom, her shoulders slumped, and paused at the door. “I saw Enola today.”
He tensed. Slowly, he raised his gaze to meet hers. “So?”
“She told how your mother met your father.”
“That’s nice.” He stretched out on the soft cushions and tucked his hands under his head. He forced himself to relax, forced himself not to care. He didn’t. He didn’t want to.
“Don’t you want to know what she said? Aren’t you even the slightest bit curious?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“If I start wondering, start digging for answers, I’m just going to get pissed off.” He turned his head to look at her. “What good would that do?”
“But if you knew how she felt—”
“She’d still be dead, and I still would have been raised by a bastard.” The dead woman’s image flared to life in his mind, and the child’s cries. He dug his fingers into his hair and twisted, hoping the pain would chase them away. It didn’t. “I’ve spent enough of my life pissed off.”
“If you change your mind…”
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight.” She turned and entered her room. The doorway sealed behind her.
He sighed and asked the room to dim the lights. For two hours, he stared at the ceiling and listened to Jelena toss and turn in the other room. For two hours, he forced himself to do nothing but that, forced himself not to think.
Now, the silence drove him stir-crazy and he wasn’t the slightest bit tired. He needed something to keep his mind occupied, so it wouldn’t dig into things he had no desire to unearth.
He quietly retrieved his things from Jelena’s chest and headed for the kitchen. “Lights,” he whispered.
They immediately blinked on.
He spread his things over the table and straddled a chair. In moments, he was engrossed in disassembling his com band.
A rock had dented the metal, damaging the delicate circuitry it covered. He didn’t have another chip handy. Why not try a little magic? Kedar wanted him to practice.
The dent in the dull metal smoothed out immediately. The chip took a little more time and concentration. When he finished, it looked new. But would it work? Only one way to find out. In half an hour, he reassembled the cuff, stashed his things in his pockets, and headed out the door.
He sensed the moment he was beyond the city’s protection. The air grew colder, the night sounds louder, the terrain more treacherous, and his com pulsed against his wrist.
Mayori had set a continuous signal, routed to wherever she happened to be, in this instance her cabin. When he tapped it, her groggy voice immediately responded.
“Drake?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Put on a level-three block. I don’t want this signal traced.”
The signal went static for a few seconds. “Done. Where the hell are you?”
“Jelena’s home world.”
“Are you all right? I heard that one second you were on the ground bleeding to death and the next you’d disappeared.”
“Jelena got me out of there. Where are you?”
“Drake—”
“I’m fine, Mayori. Answer my question.”
“We’re still orbiting Regula.”
“How’s your fuel and stores?”
“Getting low.”
“Take the Dryad to Trakis. There’s no telling when I’ll get back. Any word from Morgan or Galen?”
“Galen checked in. Said his father is bad. They don’t know what to do for him.”
Damn. The thought of Tremaine dying felt like a fist squeezing his heart. He wished he’d gone with Morgan to see him, if only for a short while. He sighed, shaking his head. Even if he didn’t have this mess to deal with, Tremaine needed his family near him not a former foster child who’d invaded his home for several years.
“When are you coming home?”
Home. Just where was that? He’d never felt at home anywhere he’d been. Not with his parents. Not with Morgan, despite how hard his family tried to make him feel welcome. He’d come close on Trakis. But this place… this place could be home. “Not until this mess with Zanera is finished.”
“Why is she after you?”
“I don’t know. Jelena has her people trying to find that out, but I want ours on it too. I’m offering a hundred-thousand credits to the one who discovers exactly what she’s up to.”
“So much?”
“I don’t want to walk into another trap.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
“Good. Tell them to be careful. She can kill just by touching.”
“Will do.”
“Mayori, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“You were right about magic. It’s very real. Durand out.”
Now she’d gloat. For years, she’d tried to convince him that real magic existed. She’d give an eye to see this place.
The sky lightened considerably in the few minutes he spoke with her. Time to head back. Turning the way he came, Drake headed through the trees, beginning his trek to the valley. As he cleared the forest, his gaze automatically strayed to the rising sun. He stopped and stared, blinking a few times to be sure he saw what he thought he did.
It was still there, looming like a huge shadow behind the bright orange ball—a second sun. He was on Coriandros. The reality of his situation sank in deep. The Bellarissian expedition had found the Nar’galira, but said nothing. Why? A find like that…
Drake shook his head and slowly slid his gaze across the horizon. The city lay in an area that had to be avoided. The high magnetic fields disrupted electronic instruments, making them useless. Fly too close and crash. What would someone coming in on-foot see?
Some kind of spell protected the city, just as Jelena said. It shimmered like a dome over the city—a city a hell of a lot farther away than he’d thought. It would take hours to hike back—time he didn’t have. Kedar had been pestering him to try porting.
“No time like the present,” he whispered. He drew in the power, ported, then released it. The strength of it leaving staggered him. He’d drawn in too much for such a short distance.
He leaned against the nearest piece of furniture for support and realized that it was a counter. He’d ported to the jewelry shop.
“W
ho’s there?” Mika stood in the curtained doorway.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to port here.”
“Your heart brought you,” she whispered. “Can I get you anything? Water? A chair?”
“No, I—” He glanced at the display behind him. The lovers pendant stood out from the others. “Yes. Yes there is.”
JELENA PULLED the brush through her hair one last stroke and watched her curls spring into place. Her hair looked wonderful today. Unfortunately, that wouldn’t do anything to help the dark circles under her eyes. Sighing, she stashed her brush in its cubby and strode to her closet.
She reached for her uniform, her hand brushing her silky, sleeveless shift. She was tempted to wear it. It wasn’t appropriate for the Executioners’ compound but Master Kedar did say she could do her best to distract him. Would this do it?
Was that really what she wanted?
When she had asked him to come to bed last night, she’d intended only sleep, but when he’d said he couldn’t make love to her, she’d wanted nothing more. She’d wanted it so much that she hurt deep inside. She still did.
You’re hot for me, but you don’t want me.
Gods help her, she wished she didn’t. Jelena sighed and grabbed her uniform. Pink. She definitely wasn’t in a pink mood today. She looked at the tunero vines that decorated her room. They sensed the moods of those around them and expressed them in color. Right now, they had her mood perfectly, a drab, mournful blue.
She snapped her fingers, dressing in her uniform, then looked in the mirror. Yes, this shade of blue definitely matched her mood. It also made those dark circles under her eyes more noticeable.
Shrugging, she left her room and the house, forgoing her morning meal. His absence again this morning chased away what little appetite she had left.
Gods preserve, what was wrong with her? This gnawing, empty ache plaguing her was the same ache she’d felt when Master Kedar had come for him. The same ache she’d felt all of yesterday, except for the short time she’d seen him in the Executioners’ compound. She missed him.
What was she going to do?
Her father would tell her to do whatever made her happy. Her sister would tell her to wed him because that’s the only thing that could make her happy. Who knew what her mother would say; her whims were as changeable as the wind. She knew what Danon would tell her—stay away from him; he’s no good.
Wasn’t he?
Talk to him, Jelena.
Enola was right. Nearly everything she knew of him was hearsay. What little he’d told her himself had her convinced he wasn’t the heartless monster she’d thought him to be. So many questions, so many things that she didn’t know, and only he had the answers.
If he wanted more from her as he’d said, perhaps he would provide her with those answers. But she needed him alone first. Perhaps Master Kedar would allow Drake time away from training if he did well against her distraction. If he didn’t, she’d ask him to. She couldn’t go on like this much longer and neither could Drake.
Jelena ported into the Executioners’ compound, finding Drake in the same training field she’d found him in the day before, only the situation he faced now was much different.
Armed with nothing more than a staff, he fought four men, two armed with staffs, the other two armed with short swords. Two others, armed with blasters, he held within an invisible barrier. They butted against it with feet, fists, and shoulders, testing its strength, just waiting for his magic to weaken.
She knew it was an exercise, but it still took every ounce of control she possessed not to help him.
The two staffsmen attacked Drake at the same time, one swinging at his head, the other aiming for his legs. His body was all golden skin and sleek muscle as he fended off their blows.
One swordsman waited for an opening to strike while the other raised his sword high above his head and brought it down toward Drake’s exposed back. Just as she was going to scream a warning, the man’s legs swept from under him.
“Good morning, Jelena,” Drake called. He fought with his back to her, but somehow he knew she was there.
Her appearance surprised the others. In seconds, they lay sprawled on their backs in the dirt. Master Kedar swooped down on them like Vengeance herself.
As he berated his best men for being brought down by the sight of a beautiful woman, Drake strode toward her. His bare chest glistened with perspiration, making his golden skin glow like warm honey. Ali’ra preserve, how she wanted to run her hands over that heated flesh. She forced her gaze to his face.
His eyes sparkled with pride and more than a hint of laughter as he collapsed on the ground beside her, not caring about the dirt clinging to his damp pants.
She sat beside him, careful not to stir the loose earth. She lifted a fallen leaf, transformed it into a towel, and handed it to him. “You look tired.”
He wiped his face. “I was going to say the same of you.”
“I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“I didn’t sleep at all,” he whispered.
“Because of me?”
He nodded. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”
“I know. We need to—”
“You did well.”
Jelena flinched at the sound of Master Kedar’s voice. Some Guardian. She hadn’t even heard him approach, but Drake had. He stood, gripped her hand and pulled her to her feet.
“You must perform one final test before the Moon of Acima. This should satisfy the council enough that you may finish this Udaro business. I am anxious to begin.”
“Begin what?” she asked.
“What’s the test?”
The master raised his eyebrow, glancing from her to Drake, and answered his question. “Two days in the North Wood.”
Drake grinned. “No problem.”
“You will bring nothing with you but your magic, not even your knife.” He glanced pointedly at Drake’s boot.
Jelena’s blood froze in her veins.
Drake merely nodded. Was he insane? How could he possibly survive two days in the North Wood with nothing but his magic to help him?
“Go and prepare yourself.” Master Kedar turned to her. “He is to do this alone. You will not interfere.”
Shaking his head, Drake chuckled and strode away.
“But—”
“You will not interfere.”
“Yes, Master Kedar.”
DRAKE FELT that familiar ripple of magic and chuckled. He knew Jelena wouldn’t be able to stay away. His fierce little sprite, so determined to protect him from everyone, including himself. He was surprised she’d been able to hold off this long.
With a glance, he turned the roasting carcass spitted over the fire. When this little creature attacked him, he half-expected Jelena to jump out of the bushes to save him. The thing was a strange mix of wildcat and jackal, and completely relentless. He hadn’t wanted to kill it, but it gave him no choice. Finding a way to defend himself without outright blasting it with magic had taken some quick but inventive thinking.
He stilled, listening for her approach. Where was she? Beyond the hissing meat over the fire, leaves rustled in the wind. Somewhere behind him, a twig snapped, but not close. More like ten meters away. Gods, he hoped she didn’t plan to hide in the wood and watch him. He didn’t know if the creature he killed was a lone, territorial creature, or if there were more of them. Either way, he didn’t want her hurt.
“Hello, Draken.”
Drake whirled around and found a woman, astride a ghostly white unicorn, sitting at the edge of his campsite. Where the hell had they come from? A breeze, surrounding only her, ruffled the luminous fabric of her dress over her body like a lover’s caress, making it very obvious that she wore nothing beneath it.
“It’s been a very long time. You do not recognize me.”
“Should I?” Her face didn’t trigger any memories.
“My name is Aurora. We played together in a glade not far from here.”
An image of a little white-haired imp with rosy cheeks and dirty knees flashed in his mind. He shook it away. Impossible.
“You don’t remember, do you?”
He shook his head. Her sad tone made him feel as if he’d lost something special. He didn’t like that at all.
“Perhaps your memory will return.”
“Perhaps.”
“I’m sorry about your mother. The entire forest felt her loss when she left this life.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, fighting the fist squeezing his heart—the same one that attacked him when he thought of Tremaine dying.
“You have her smile.”
“I haven’t smiled.”
“No, but it is there just the same.” In the soft light shimmering around her body, her smile looked ethereal.
The unicorn whinnied. She tensed.
He heard it too—footsteps stealthily approaching the campsite.
“I will leave you now.” She backed the unicorn into the shadows. “I’m sure we will speak again.” Just like that, they were gone as quickly and silently as they’d come.
Sighing, Drake sat and leaned his back against a fallen log, worn smooth from age. He glanced at the roasting meat and set it to a constant slow turn, not wanting it to burn and foul the air. He couldn’t stand the smell of burning flesh.
You have her smile.
Again, the dead woman’s image flared to life in his mind, and with it the child’s haunting cries. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, willing them away.
As he stared into the fire, they came to life in the golden flames. She nuzzled the giggling little boy’s neck, tickling his sides, then whisked him into her arms, twirling them both around until they were dizzy.
A soft smile touched Drake’s lips as he watched them.
The image twisted and changed with the licking flames. The child lay lifeless in her arms. Her head fell back and she screamed her sorrow, her pain.
He clenched his eyes shut, fighting against the invisible fingers at his throat and the weight on his chest. The pain doubled him over, fighting him for each shallow breath.
She was not meant to die.
“Gods,” he whispered. “Don’t do this to me.”
“I thought you didn’t eat meat.”
He jerked his gaze left and found Jelena standing at the edge of the firelight, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “What?”
Real Magic Page 17
