by Dara Joy
“You do realize we have a problem here.” Gian spoke matter-of-factly as he deflected yet another spear.
“Yes, I do.” Traed answered just as blandly. Jenise marveled that the two men could speak so calmly. As if they weren’t fighting for their lives!
Both men did their best to fend off the attack. However, there were too many marauders; Gian and Traed could not keep this up indefinitely.
Traed pulverized seven shards in a lightning-fast display of swordsmanship. The explosion of the crystal for some reason made him think of the crystal point Yaniff always wore in his ear. The symbol of the ever-changing facets of Charl power…
Crystal can transmute energy, a voice whispered in his head. Traed raised his brows at the sudden idea. “Stand back from me, taj Gian.”
Gathering Jenise to his side, Gian carefully moved a few paces back from the Aviaran warrior. While Traed’s left arm plied his blade in lightning-fast maneuvers, he stretched out his other hand—five fingers splayed—in the direction of the crystal formations to his right.
He called forth his latent power.
It rose up in him as it always did, greedily.
Arcs of light traveled up his body, circling around him, growing in strength and number. The sky above them, which had been clear just an instant before, now darkened ominously. A rumble of thunder sounded overhead.
Jenise stared in wonder at the chiseled features of the Aviaran warrior who had saved their lives. His green eyes were sparking with his power! She had heard of this, but had never seen it. It was often said that the Charl carried a light within them and therefore could endure any darkness that surrounded them. Looking at this tall, contained man, she could well believe it.
Five jagged bolts crackled from his widespread fingers, aimed precisely at the crystalline structure to his right. The bolts hit their mark, illuminating the facets of the crystal. It almost seemed as if they were absorbed into it.
At first nothing happened.
Suddenly star bursts began to appear in random patterns throughout the crystal, gaining in strength and number. Traed’s power bolts were changing the internal structure of the crystal, causing it to generate a strong piezoelectric field.
Five deadly arcs came back, aimed directly at them.
“We will be scorched to cinders!” Terrified, Jenise hugged Gian tightly to her.
Just as the bolts were almost upon them, Traed lifted his light blade straight out, capturing the killer bolts on it. The arcs hissed and snapped as they circled hungrily around the blade.
In a smooth action, Traed pivoted the pulsing blade, aiming it directly at the outcropping in front of him.
The augmented power bolts zinged from the blade, pulverizing a section of the outcropping in a shower of red dust.
The bandits began to yell as they attempted to run for shelter, “He is a Charl warrior!”
In a calm manner, Traed sent out another five bolts to the crystal, repeating the procedure. The bandits scurried about like insects. The second blast took off half of the front facade of the barricade they hid behind.
“You do not waste time, I see.” Gian spoke approvingly as he watched the beings who would have destroyed him and Jenise meet their own fate.
The corners of Traed’s lips curled. “It was becoming tedious.”
A final BOOOM! rent the air, decimating what was left of the barricade. He lowered his weapon as the last of the bandits scurried off.
Someone was running up on them from behind…
Gian whipped Jenise behind him and crouched low, preparing to attack.
An odd-looking alien was huffing and puffing to reach them.
Traed’s arm on Gian’s shoulder forestalled him. “It is my guide, Gruntel—he is harmless, if a bit slow.”
“Wait for Gruntel to fight!” the guide called out. As if the bandits would have the courtesy to begin fighting on his arrival.
“It is already finished, Gruntel.” Traed folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head as the Wiggamabob lumbered toward them. Traed rolled his eyes. Well, at least his heart was in the right place.
When the Wiggamabob finally reached them, Gian stared at the alien in a piercing way. The guide looked familiar to him. Then he recalled that he had seen him just as Jenise and he had entered the first Tunnel on Ganakari. The Familiar attempted to use his special senses to ascertain what he could about the strange alien.
Gruntel, not understanding the Familiar’s action, responded by sniffing the proud Familiar in a meddlesome way.
“Stop that at once!” Gian brushed the snuffling snout away.
Jenise giggled behind her hand.
Traed glanced aside, eyes twinkling with mirth. An unusual occurrence for him.
“So Traed, how did you find me?” Gian ignored the guide, who was still sniffing at him from a distance.
“Yaniff sent me.”
Gian grinned. “Yaniff, my old friend. I will have to thank him for coming to my aid, and you as well, Traed. You saved our lives. I will not forget it.”
Uncomfortable with praise, Traed shrugged off the valiant deed he had performed as if it were a mundane thing.
“One who smells tasty is correct,” Gruntel chimed in.
Gian frowned at the odd guide, but Gruntel was oblivious. He leaned on his crooked little staff, catching his breath.
Jenise stepped forward. “I am Jenise.” She held out her hand to the Aviaran. “I, too, thank you.”
“Forgive me, taja; in all the excitement, I have not introduced you. This is Traed ta’al Yaniff. He is a member of my extended family.”
Traed’s eyes flicked to Gian. He had heard him call the woman taja. And she was not a Familiar woman. Was this the princess the Ganakari claimed he had stolen?
{She does not know.} Gian sent the thought only to Traed.
Traed raised an eyebrow, looking questioningly at Gian over Jenise’s head. {It is complicated. Leave it for now.}
Traed inclined his head at Gian, taking Jenise’s proffered hand. “There is no need to thank me.”
“Of course there is.” She smiled prettily at him. Traed could tell at once why Gian would abscond with such a woman. She was captivatingly beautiful in a unique way. While they had been fighting, she had stood her ground bravely. She was exactly the kind of woman Traed admired. Unusual and bold.
His admiration must have been apparent. Gian sent him a flicker-warning. Traed smiled ever so slightly. Familiars were extremely possessive of what they considered theirs. He acknowledged Gian’s right with a respectful nod.
In fact, Gian was one of the few men that Traed did respect. Guardian of the Mist was universally admired throughout the Alliance and especially on Aviara. He had the reputation of a man who was cunning yet fair. A courageous and honorable Familiar, whose word in all things was his bond. Among his own people, he was well loved.
“Jenise is accompanying me to Aviara.” Gian met Traed’s eyes. A wealth of subtlety lay in that statement.
“Then our journey will be all the more—”
Gian raised his brow.
“Enchanting,” Traed finished diplomatically.
Jenise smiled. “What a lovely thing to say. If you are an example of all Aviarans, then I must confess I look forward to visiting your homeworld.”
Gian immediately bristled with feline jealousy. “I am afraid, Creamcat, that you will find that Traed is unlike most Aviarans.”
“Really?” She examined the strong, controlled warrior speculatively—from his waist-length dark hair to his sparking jade eyes. “In what way?” she asked curiously.
Hands on hips, Gian turned to Traed, daring him to answer that question. Traed actually smiled.
It wasn’t until much later that Traed wondered if the voice he heard in his head reminding him that crystals transmute power was actually his own.
The rest of the journey to the mining camp was uneventful except for Gruntel constantly snuffling at Gian and Gian shooing the Wiggamabob away
in irritation.
They reached the Tunnel point before nightfall, grateful to leave this world behind.
This mining camp was completely deserted. Gian told the group that he had heard this was not unusual when a strike had been found. Though they were glad not to have to come in contact with any more of the disreputable inhabitants of this place, they would have liked the opportunity to question the locals about the next world.
Jenise took a deep breath. “I wonder what we will find on the other side.” So far they had not had much luck with the planets connecting through this line of Tunnels.
Gian squeezed her hand, offering her his support. “I will be right by you, taja.”
“No worry!” Gruntel piped up. “All nice. Good place. Good people. You like.”
Traed turned to the guide. “Are you sure, Gruntel?”
The guide bobbed his bumpy head up and down. “Much good place. Very comfortable.”
Traed turned to Gian and Jenise. “We can hope it is so.” He sidestepped in front of Gian, saying in an aside to him, “In case he is wrong, I will go first, taj Gian.” He removed his Cearix from his waistband.
Gian nodded, grateful for the additional protection for Jenise.
Traed set one foot inside the Tunnel. He pivoted halfway, saying to Gruntel, “Much nice, hmmm?”
“Much nice,” Gruntel affirmed.
Traed stepped through the corridor that joined worlds.
Gian waited a few moments in case Traed sent them a warning, but none came. Which might mean nothing or everything.
“Come, Creamcat.” Gian led Jenise into the maw. Gruntel was close at their heels, sniffing.
If anyone had been in the mining camp, he would have heard the Familiar man hissing at the Wiggamabob.
Followed by the imperative, “Stop it!”
Followed by feminine amused laughter.
The land before them was starkly beautiful.
Until the cold hit them.
“Did you not say much nice?” Traed pulled his cloak about him, giving Gruntel a skeptical look.
The guide beamed, taking a deep breath in the icy air. He exhaled with great satisfaction, grinning broadly. “Much nice!”
Jenise smiled even as she shivered. “It seems he likes the cold.”
“It would seem so.” Traed replaced his Cearix.
“I wonder which way we go?” Jenise pointed to the three icy paths in front of them. They were standing on a hillock in a forest covered with ice and moonlight. The air, though cold, was crisp and clean and invigorating. It was night on this world.
“Follow path to center!” Gruntel chirped. He bounced to the front of the group and happily led the way.
Gian looked at Traed, questioning if they should follow. Traed shrugged. “It is as good a way as any.”
“True.”
They fell in behind the self-proclaimed guide. Gian brought Jenise under the warmth of his cloak.
“Is this better?” he whispered to her.
“A little.” She nodded, feeling his sultry heat through the double layer of cloaks. “You are always nice and warm, Gian.”
A smile tugged at his lips. “I was thinking the same of you.” His hand under the cloak tickled her side.
She laughed, enjoying the moment with him. A thin layer of snow coated the ice on the path. Their footfalls made crunching sounds in the night and everything around them was bathed in silver light. “Silver and ice,” she spoke softly. “It is almost magical here.”
Gian gazed down at her. “Yes.”
Her breath caught in her throat. The silvery moonlight made him even more stunning, if that was possible. “I am so glad to share this moment with you, Guardian of the Mist.”
Jenise believed in moments. The Frensi taught that ultimately one perceives the reality of one’s life by the moments he chooses to commit to memory. When these chosen moments are strung together throughout a lifetime, their patterns form a mystical helix that the inner spirit climbs. The Familiar belief was much the same.
Her simple words touched him greatly. “I as well, Creamcat.” He brushed her lips with his own.
Gian reached inside the waistband of his tracas. “For you.” He handed her a small faceted sliver of red crystal. “To replace the one Karpon took from you.”
Tears came to her eyes at the Familiar’s kind gesture.
She held the treasure in her palm protectively, closing her hand over the tiny gift. For the rest of her life she knew that every time she gazed upon Gian’s gift she would remember the incredible night they had shared in the crystal room.
He had given her yet another moment to vibrate along her lifeline. “I will treasure it always.”
“As I treasure you.” He kissed her mouth, purring against her sweet lips.
Gruntel tugged Traed’s sleeve. “Look! See what they do!” He pointed to the embracing couple.
Traed shook his head at the nosy guide. “Do not look upon that!” he hissed.
Gruntel scratched his bumpy head. “No?”
“No.” Traed turned the wayward guide about to face front as they marched along.
“Hmf! She think he tasty too!” Gruntel complained.
“Not in the same manner.” Traed rolled his eyes, continuing on the path. Quests!
Towards dawn, they came upon a stone abode next to an icy, flowing stream. They had not seen any beings during their journey through the night and Jenise was starting to wonder if Gruntel had been correct.
“Go there!” Gruntel said excitedly. “Friend. Rest for day.”
“Is he saying we are to find shelter ahead?” Gian asked Traed.
“It would seem so.”
“Are you tired, Jenise?” He hugged her to him. “Or do you wish to go on?”
“No go on!” Gruntel jumped up and down. “Too far to Tunnel. Too dangerous. Must have help!”
“Dangerous? What do you mean by dangerous?” Gian demanded, concerned for Jenise.
“Way too steep. Need help.”
“I believe he is saying that the route becomes difficult to navigate.”
Gruntel bobbed his head at Traed.
“Perhaps we should take his advice, taj Gian. He has proven correct thus far.”
Gian glanced down at Jenise. He knew she would not admit it, but he could tell she was wearying. “We will stop.”
Traed and Gruntel went ahead.
“Why does he ask you what to do, Gian? Traed seems like a man who would not ordinarily do such a thing.” Jenise gazed up at him, an inquiring expression gracing her soft features.
Gian paused. “It is his way.”
“It does not seem to be his way,” she responded shrewdly.
Gian shrugged, pretending no interest in the topic. In reality he was astounded by her astute observation. He would have to warn Traed to be more circumspect.
Gruntel pounded on the wooden door with his crooked staff.
High-pitched yipping came from inside, followed by raspy grumbling. The door opened a few moments later to reveal a fur-covered being who stood almost as tall as the two men. He had round brown eyes, a round black nose, and two small, pointy ears sitting at an angle on the top of his head. He tapped the side of his forehead to indicate he had no translator device.
Gruntel took over the conversation for them, speaking to the being in snorts and guttural sounds. They obviously knew each other.
Gruntel turned to them, grinning his two-toothed smile. “Ogga let you stay for rest.”
Traed nodded. “Tell him we thank him for his kindness.”
Gruntel translated. Ogga’s tongue hung out of his open mouth in what everyone assumed was his version of a grin. He ushered them inside into the warmth.
Jenise looked around the main room of the small abode, happy they had decided to stay here. The room was lit by a huge fireplace. Heavy woven rugs covered the floors and there were low cushions scattered about for resting upon. A kettle of soup was heating over the fire, its fragrant herbs filling
the room.
She sighed. Shedding her cloak, she sank wearily down upon the nearest cushion. Gian sat next to her. Jenise marveled anew at his feline ways. The Familiar sat very close to her, touching her at various points of her body with his. It was as if he were silently letting her know of his presence and protection while at the same time telling anyone watching that he considered this person one of his own.
Traed recognized the pose immediately, for he had seen it countless times in the past with other Familiars, both male and female. It was another Familiar enigma—they were fiercely independent and yet they positioned themselves as guardians to those they cared for.
Ogga was a gracious host. He offered them all bowls of the steaming soup, handing the first bowl to Gian. Somehow he knew the Familiar was the one whose approval he had to gain.
Guardian of the Mist cocked his head to one side and examined the brew. Using his special senses, he ascertained that the concoction would not be harmful to them. “It is safe,” he said in a low tone. Even though Ogga could not understand him, he did not wish to insult the generous alien in his home. He handed the bowl to Jenise so that she might refresh herself first.
She gratefully took the brew, for she was quite hungry. She swallowed several times before stopping to inform them that it was delicious.
They all eagerly drank theirs.
After they had finished eating, Gruntel and Ogga carried on a conversation by the fire—much like old friends do. After a time, Gruntel turned to Traed. “Ogga say he take you on to Tunnel with his Wee-chukchuk.”
“Wee-chukchuk…what is that?” Traed was stretched out across several cushions, his hands folded behind his head. Despite the relaxed pose, the Aviaran was, as always, fully alert.
“He say very fierce, very brave. Can go over ice. Wee-chukchuk respected by all. Only take if they like.”
“Hmmm.” A strand of his hair caught under his cloak as he turned on his side. He yanked it out, irritated. “Ask him if he has a leather thong to tie back my hair.”
Gruntel snorted something to Ogga. Ogga’s tongue lolled out in a grin. “He say no. Too bad for warrior who think he not Charl.”
Traed narrowed his eyes. Ignoring Gruntel’s obvious pleasure over the situation, he watched Gian place a sleeping Jenise carefully down on one of the cushions. He idly wondered what it was like to care for a woman that much. To feel that kind of…
