by Janet Woods
THE ASSEMBLY
A collection of stories in various guises…
Janet Woods
1 – THE SEVENTH DAWN – A fantasy with romance
2 – BODY SWITCH – Science Fiction (most likely without the science)
3 – SPIRIT OF LOVE – Ghastly ghosty
4 – BLIND MAN’S BLUFF – Mateship in the Australian outback
5 – KIRRA KIRRA – Inspired by the lost children generation in Australia
6 – BLACKBERRY JAM – Family relationship
7 – THAT’S AMORÉ – A contemporary love story
8 – SEEING RED – A devastating romance (especially if you like spaghetti!)
9 – ROGUE OF HEARTS – a longer length historical romance with a highwayman who steals the heroine’s heart . . . eventually.
10 – MAGPIE MAGIC – Know-it-all birds
THE SEVENTH DAWN – fantasy
Nyari stood on the high place, a slender shadow against the moon. Below, the water’s fall tumbled and foamed over rocks worn smooth, then fanned incandescent across the lake to where Ruarc’s manor shimmered in the rising mist. The soft eerie call of an owl mocked from the forest at her back, alerted her fey sense. She was being observed, and the watchers had no sympathy for the Salsen maid who’d defied Lord Ruarc’s will. Nyari shivered as she gazed down at Atarta, the Pitilan by her side. It was quivering as it absorbed the unfamiliar odors of Magellan. The faint luminosity of its eyes told her it was recording the scents in its memory, for soon it would need to hunt. Her fingers caressed the leathery ridge surrounding the Pitilan’s neck. The beast had been assigned to her at birth, trained to defend her unto death. Genetically bred for ferocity and faithfulness, it served only the families of the leaders of her tribe. She’d brought it through the portal in defiance of Ruarc’s instructions.***‘Only the watchers, the keepers of the forest, are permitted to hunt on Magellan,’ Lord Ruarc had said when he’d come to Salsen to put forward his plan for survival of the two planets before the auger. Nyari had been barely fifteen then, her advanced intuitive level had promised her a future as a mystic in the temple. She’d been hidden behind a statue of the alchemist, her green eyes wide with awe as the Magellan lord had consulted with the auger through her sire, the High Salsen. Lord Ruarc had been fascinating in his splendor. Dark hair tied back, his eyes were purple black in a face of hawkish beauty. His large muscular body was clothed in a dusky purple tunic and breeches. His cloak swirled as he strode, all youthful energy and arrogance into the temple, his troopers ranged about him. Though Ruarc didn’t raise his voice it had a resonance that commanded instant attention as he explained his mission. ‘We’ve been at war since my ancestor split the planet asunder with his device. I, Lord Ruarc of Magellan, acknowledge his wrongdoing. It’s time our people became one. The two halves of the planet are on a convergence course. If we’re not to be destroyed we must reunite.’ ‘You expect us to take the word of a Magellan?’ the High Salsen scorned. ‘The Salsens were always a peace loving tribe. It’s the Magellan who come through the portal with their warlike ways to carry off our woman. ‘Your women are fair,’ Ruarc said. ‘And they still have the ability to breed well. He gave a faint grin as his eyes roved around the temple. ‘The Magellan have a tendency to breed males, the Salsen, females. Your Salsen women seem happy enough with their Magellan mates once they get over their fright. My mother was a mystic of this temple, and her mother before her. I’m the sixth son of such couplings, and when I take a mate it will be a Salsen woman. The seventh son will embody the best of both tribes and is destined to become a supreme being.’ Nyari shrank back behind a statue of the High Alchemist as Ruarc’s eyes seemed to connect with hers for a few lingering moments. ‘You dare speak of such things to the High Salsen.’ ‘It is written,’ Ruarc said calmly. ‘You have only to consult your augur to know I speak the truth.’ ‘And if I refuse?’ ‘I’ll open other portals and my troopers will storm across and take Salsen by force.’ Ruarc gave a great, booming laugh. ‘One way or another I intend to save the planet from destruction. Endorse my plan and you’ll have a voice in its future.’ His glance wandered once again to the statue of the alchemist and amusement touched his eyes. ‘To show my good faith I’ll allow the augur to choose a suitable mate for me.’ The High Salsen had been given no choice, and when the augur confirmed Lord Ruarc’s plan was the only one viable her sire had then asked it to choose a suitable mate for the Magellan lord. ‘There is none more suitable than Nyari,’ the augur had informed him. Nyari had started to tremble when her sire called out her name. Reluctantly, she emerged from her hiding place, and with lowered eyes had slowly made her way towards the assembly. ‘She’s too young,’ Ruarc said, frowning. He took a quick intake of breath as her eyes flicked in curiosity up to his, and murmured. ‘Such eyes, they glow like the fire emeralds in the dreaming place.’ His fingers reached out and jerked the cowl from her head and her hair tumbled in silvery ripples to her waist.’ For a few long moments he stared at her, then a slow smile stretched across his face. Taking up a length of her hair he twisted it around his hand. ‘For this one, I’ll wait.’ Recently initiated into the art of mesmer, Nyari sought to gain control over his will, and when she sensed him weaken a little, murmured hopefully. ‘You will forget me, Lord, and chose another.’ His chuckle was a mocking murmur, heard by her alone. ‘One such as you was never destined to serve the temple. You’ll come to me on the seventh orbit.’ His eyes had flicked to the Pitilan at her heels and he’d growled. ‘Leave that abomination behind unless you wish to incur my anger.’ ***The seventh orbit came too soon. Her maturing time was spent cloistered with two of the temple elders - for now she’d been chosen, none were allowed to gaze upon her. She missed the company of her fellow novices and resented the fact she’d lost her freedom because of Ruarc. She was unattended when, without warning, the portal opened, revealing dark depths flickering with light flashes. A ceremony had been planned, with her sire handing her officially over to Ruarc, but driven by curiosity and holding tight to Atarta she’d moved to close to its current and was instantly drawn into its cosmic turbulence. Tossed and turned like a leaf in a gale, robbed of breath and terrified out of her wits, she’d lost consciousness. She regained her senses at the other side. Taking fright when she heard voices she scrambled up the rocks to the safety of the high place while Ruarc and his troopers searched the ground below. When he glanced up and saw her his face tightened in anger. ‘I see you, Nyari,’ he called out. ‘You’ve sought sanctuary in a place no Magellan may set foot, and have defiled it with the Pitilan’s presence. I order you to descend and take your place at my side.’ Nyari picked up a rock and held it threateningly above her head, surprised by her own defiance. ‘Go, savage, take your troopers and leave me in peace.’ Beside her, the Pitilan gave a low trilling murmur, bringing her mind back to her predicament. Shivering a little, for the air had cooled as rapidly as her temper and her loose temple gown was thin, Nyari seated herself against a rock, drew her knees up under her chin and wept tears of quiet despair. ‘What am I to do, Atarta? The Magellan are savages and I’m afraid.’ ‘They are only savage when the occasion demands it.’ Nyari jumped at the quietly spoken voice. Her head jerked to the darkness, her eyes searching fearfully amongst the shadows. ‘Do not be afraid, Nyari.’ Scrambling to her feet she pressed her hand against her throat as the outline of a woman appeared. She had the look of a Salsen, but nevertheless, the touch of Nyari’s fingers put Atarta on alert. ‘Come closer and my Pitilan will attack. Who are you?’ ‘An emissary from Lord Ruarc.’ The woman placed a folded garment upon the ground and set a carved wooden box upon the top. She was old and frail looking. ‘He’s instructed me to bring you his cloak for warmth, and this gift.’ ‘What are you named, ancient one?’ ‘Davina, lady.
’ ‘Your function in Lord Ruarc’s manor?’ ‘I was mother to his sire.’ ‘You are welcome, Davina.’ She bowed her head in a gesture of respect. ‘What gift does my lord Ruarc send me?’ ‘A wishing dish, daughter of light.’ Nyari sensed a trick. ‘Why does Ruarc not bring it himself?’ ‘He’s angered by your rejection and your disregard of his wishes regarding the Pitilan. He cannot trust himself to be impartial at this time and seeks guidance through meditation.’ The woman’s voice began to fade, her shadow blended with the forest. ‘You need only to fill the bowl with water and look upon its surface. Whatever you desire will be yours.’ ‘Except my freedom,’ Nyari whispered, experiencing loneliness when the woman had gone. Pulling the box towards her she flipped open the lid. ‘It’s exquisite,’ she breathed, as colors writhed like mist from its smooth silver surface. She picked up the cloak and shook it free of its folds. It floated upon the air like midnight gossamer before settling around her shoulders. Her hair drifted against its softness like strands of moonlight. She’d expected the Magellan lord’s odor to be sour, but the fragrance lingering about the cloak was strangely pleasing, reminiscent of sandalwood, but with a piquant undertone unfamiliar to her. She felt comforted in its embrace as she pulled the bowl towards her and examined it more closely. The precious gems, set just below the surface of the dish, shone with ethereal light. Nyari was sure they were the gems spoken of in the legend told by the augur. They were created by the high alchemist in the time when the two tribes were one. The gems had been endowed with mystic power and he who possessed them would rule with wisdom. Her senses swam as she gazed at its brilliance. It was a gesture of esteem that Lord Ruarc had seen fit to place such power within her hands. Fetching some water from the fall she murmured. ‘I would wish to thank Lord Ruarc for such a gift.’ ‘Your thanks are appreciated.’ Nyari shrank back in fright when an image of Ruarc appeared in front of her. ‘You need not fear, I’m without substance.’ Though she breathed a sigh of relief, Ruarc’s powerful presence disturbed her. The Magellan lord was clad in black loose breeches and a tunic that clung to his broad chest. A silver leather belt cinched his waist from which the jeweled hilt of a dagger protruded. Black boots of soft leather clung to his calves. He did not look angry, but his dark purple eyes were piercing. She averted her gaze from his magnificence. ‘Come, Nyari, you’re not without courage. Raise your eyes to mine and tell me why you fled.’ When she looked upon him again she was called upon to say. ‘You are more pleasing to look upon than I remember.’ ‘You see me with the eyes of a woman now.’ The firmly etched mouth parted in a smile. ‘Your rare beauty has not diminished, my lady. His hand reached out, touched her hair. She experienced only a hint of a stirring against her scalp, yet the nerves at the nape of her neck shivered with pleasure. ‘Why did you flee?’ he asked once again. ‘My intention was not to anger you, Lord. I’m straight from the teachings of the temple, and apprehensive of being forced to submit to your will.’ ‘I understand your fear and will make allowance for your reticence. You only had to ask.’ ‘I had not thought you to be indulgent.’ Ruarc’s mouth assumed a wry curve. ‘I’m not entirely without sensitivity. The blood of the alchemist runs through my veins, his wisdom shapes my thoughts and shows me the way.’ ‘And what is that way, savage?’ Losing her fear she walked to the rim of the ledge and indicated the fall of water. ‘Do you seek to crush me like the water does to the rock? You’ll find me just as resilient.’ He gave a great booming laugh. ‘The rock succumbs to the water in time, wearing it away until it becomes sand. I can achieve the same effect faster.’ His image began to shimmer and fade. ‘I’ll not wait as long as the water for the rock. Your people made a bargain with me and you have seven dawns in which to keep it. By that time the rocks will be as sand to your vision. May your dreams pleasure your nights until then.’ ‘And if I do not come to you?’ she called out as he disappeared ‘If I’m forced to take you I promise you’ll not enjoy the outcome.’ His voice spread across the lake in widening ripples and whispered upon the rocks below the fall and echoed up through the crystal pipes they enclosed. Her fingers slid to the Pitilan beside her. ‘Neither will you, Lord,’ she murmured in defiance, pulling his cloak tightly round her. Below her, the bones of the alchemist shivered in the dust of his tomb. ***The brilliance of the moon had faded, its light replaced by a million pin-pricks of muted incandescence. The largest star was Salsen. Roughly crescent shaped it was tantalizingly near, and yet so far. The planet had split along a fault, the disaster being more generous to the surviving Magellan tribe. The Magellan land was lush with grass and trees, bountiful with nuts and fruits. The water and air had a fresh sweetness to it, totally unlike Salsen land with its sparse vegetation and hot, dry plains. The Pitilan stared restlessly at the forest as a haunting cry shivered in the air. She was loath to part with the beast in this alien place, but darkness was dropping rapidly upon the land and the beast needed succor if it were to stay alert. ‘Go and hunt.’ Giving Atarta a shove she watched him slink into the darkness and then pulled the wishing bowl close to her body and asked it to keep her safe that night. Cloak pulled over her head she curled into a ball and allowed herself to drift into sleep amongst its writhing vapours. ‘Open your eyes, Nyari.’ She thought herself still awake when she heard Ruarc’s voice, but when she did as her lord asked she found herself floating high above his domain, her hand clasped safely in the warmth of his. He was smiling at her, his dark eyes bright with laughter. ‘Look below, Nyari. What do you see?’ A land so rich in beauty it hurts my eyes to look at it.’ She gave him a shy smile. ‘There’s a harmony of water and land in Magellan. It gladdens the eye and gives solace to the heart.’ ‘It’s a gift I offer you, Nyari.’ ‘I’ll treasure only the thought behind the gift, Lord. The land belongs to those who see and rejoice in its beauty.’ ‘Wise words, lady.’ Ruarc gently caressed her face with the back of his hand. Losing her fear of him she brought her own hand up against his to keep it there whilst they drifted in silent communication upon the currents of air. When she woke it was with the scent of sandalwood in her nostrils. Rested, despite the hardness of her bed, she discovered she was smiling a little. Atarta was sat a little way off, his reptilian eyes turned alertly towards the forest. His expression was satisfied, as though he’d eaten well. ‘Which is more than I have,’ she whispered, stretching her arms towards the warmth of the sun. She satisfied her hunger with nuts and berries, and then set about weaving a decoration for her wrist from colored grasses and shells from the river. As she worked, Nyari glanced down at Ruarc’s manor. There was much coming and going. The Magellans rode astride the backs of elegant black beasts with plumed feathery tails. There seemed to be some sort of contest taking place and the sound of shouts and laughter reached her ears as the troopers raced the beasts round and over impossible obstacles. So absorbed did she become in the game that she found the wrist ornament too large when she’d finished, so shoved it in her pocket and set about making a smaller one whilst she singled out a champion to cheer on. Sensing she was being observed, she turned and glimpsed a shadow melt into the surface of the rock. The Pitilan was sprawled on its back in slumber and she brought it sharply to attention. That night, her dream brought Ruarc on the back of one of the beasts she’d seen. Its coat was a mass of small curls, its eyes violet. Up close, the plumed tail was iridescent with colors. ‘What is it called?’ she asked, smiling with pleasure when the beast stretched out its long neck and gently nuzzled against her hand.’ ‘It’s a landflight.’ The beast knelt as Ruarc held out his hand to her. ‘Come join me, Nyari. Ruarc’s arms slid round her as she mounted in front of him on the creature’s soft back. ‘Landflights were numerous on Salsen until the Pitilans, with their thirst for blood, hunted them down.’ Though she experienced sorrow for her people’s transgression she said nothing. The beast was sure-footed as it picked its way down from the high place, but she leaned against Ruarc’s warm chest for security. Now and again she felt his breath against her ear, and once, his lips gently touched her shoulder as they
sped over the grasslands, swooping and circling until she was breathless and dizzy with laughter and begged him to bring the beast to a halt. They refreshed themselves by a stream where the water sang through a series of glowing ice pipes, haunting the air with strange melodies that touched a chord in her body and made it sing in harmony. She turned to him, her eyes glowing with pleasure. ‘I have a gift to give in return for the pleasures of this night.’ Taking the ornament she’d fashioned from the grasses she set it about his wrist. His dark eyes were tender as they gazed into hers. Leaning forward he took her lips in a gentle kiss. She’d never been kissed in such a way before. Her sire, the High Salsen kissed her only on the forehead. Ruarc’s kiss was soft, moist and coaxing. A great lassitude invaded her limbs and she felt herself spinning into darkness as soft as clouds. She felt strange when she woke, her mouth aware to the experience she’d dreamed, her body restless with something she could not name. The dream had seemed almost real. The Pitilan was stretched out on its back again, blood jelling its snout. She shuddered as she nudged it with her foot, remembering the gentleness of the landflight. The Pitilan did not stir. ‘It has gorged itself on the sacred eels,’ a voice said from behind her. ‘When its body is satiated with the eels’ narcotic the watchers will hunt it down and kill it.’ Heart beating in alarm, she spun round. Her eyes encountered a man so ancient she knew it could only be an illusion. ‘Who are you and why are you here?’ she whispered. ‘I’m the alchemist.’ The ancient seated himself on a rock and gazed at her through grumpy eyes. ‘You’re Nyari, daughter of the High Salsen, mate to Ruarc of Magellan.’ He gave a cackle of laughter as if the thought amused him. ‘Why do you come to me, spirit of the alchemist?’ ‘It’s you who have come to me, Nyari. My bones rest in the sanctuary below the waterfall and you’ve called me with your music.’ ‘You’re mistaken. I have no music, alchemist.’ ‘The music of your mind is a powerful melody. The crystal pipes that guard my tomb vibrate with its joy. It woke my spirit from its rest. You’re in need of my counsel?’ ‘I’m sorry, ancient of ancients.’ Nyari sat at his feet and gazed at him in contrition. ‘I was not aware I sought your counsel. Are you truly the spirit of the alchemist?’ A shrewd expression twisted the web of lines about his eyes. ‘You doubt it?’ ‘This is a place of wonder,’ she whispered. ‘Sometimes I think my eyes deceive me. Your wisdom has long been proclaimed by the Salsen auger.’ The alchemist gave a modest shrug. ‘It’s a pity they didn’t act on it. If the Salsens hadn’t considered themselves so superior, and the Magellans weren’t so damned arrogant . . .?’ He smiled as he wagged a bony finger at her. ‘Still, none of that’s your fault. I can see why Ruarc chose you. Your mind is open to the truth. Salsen women are not usually encouraged to think for themselves.’ ‘I do not fit the ideal,’ she admitted, thinking it would be rude of her to remind the alchemist it was he who’d chosen her for Ruarc. ‘My mind reaches spiritual planes that mark me as different.’ ‘Different enough to stir Ruarc’s senses.’ The alchemist’s voice had the sound of dry leaves rustling in the wind. ‘You both carry my genes, and your minds and bodies react most favorably to each other.’ There was another cackle of laughter. ‘Ruarc was intrigued when you sought to use the art of mesmer on him. He’s a supreme master of the art.’ She blushed, and when the alchemist patted her gently on the head she noticed he wore a wrist ornament like the one she’d given Ruarc. ‘I’ll come again if you need me, Nyari.’ ‘I’m honoured most venerable of ancients,’ she said before he merged to become one with the rock. Nights came and went, each one bringing dreams of Ruarc, each more pleasurable than the last. He showed her his place of dreaming, a crystal cave of such exquisite beauty she was dazzled by its sights and sounds. They danced amongst the colors, her heart beating in empathy against his, his eyes caressing hers. She felt at one with him - one heart, one mind. He’d shown her the great pipes running through Magellan and the position of the corresponding pipes that terminated under the augur chamber in the Salsen temple. ‘That was where the split occurred,’ he explained, revealing his calculations for the uniting of the two halves of the planets. When she saw how vital the timing, how dangerous the task, she was lost in her awe of him. Her Pitilan disappeared into the forest and didn’t return. Her mourning was brief when she thought of the gentle landflight. The nights grew cooler, yet still she couldn’t bring herself to surrender to Ruarc. She’d not used the wishing dish to any great extent, holding her hunger in check by eating that which nature had provided. But her body was growing tired and she needed more. About to give in to her urge for more sustenance she filled the dish with water and gazed into its depths. Ruarc’s eyes gazed back at her like purple glowing jewels. ‘You’re cold and hungry, Nyari. Are you ready to come down to me?’ She knew then that he watched her through the dish and controlled her every dream. Angered by his trickery she threw the dish over the fall. It turned over and over before bouncing against the rocks at the bottom and sinking beneath the surface of the lake. ‘Must I beg Ruarc for food in this land of plenty?’ she cried out in passion. There was a gust of wind, and the alchemist appeared so suddenly Nyari jumped. ‘If you’re too proud a maid to ask for sustenance you must go hungry,’ he said, his eyes glowing with angry light. ‘You’ve been honored by Ruarc. If any other maid had treated him thus she’d have been sent into the wilderness to fend for herself.’ ‘Then why doesn’t he send me to the wilderness? It cannot be worse than being slave to a Magellan.’ ‘Ruarc doesn’t seek to make you his slave.’ The alchemist flung his arms wide, embracing the landscape. ‘He seeks to preserve this world and save the Magellan and Salsen tribes from extinction. ‘Look at the beauty of this place, compare it with the Salsen lands. Your people have ruined the earth, taken from it and put nothing back.’ ‘That is the truth that I see before me.’ ‘The Magellans know the earth and all its secrets but they need the Salsen people to reunite the tribes and make it one. Without the other you’ll both perish. There’s only one chance, and your stubbornness will not be allowed to spoil it. Ruarc’s patience is growing thin. Do not test his anger further.’ ‘If his ancestor was stupid enough to blow the place apart, why should I be the one to sacrifice myself to save it? Answer me that, alchemist?’ ‘The answer is in front of you,’ he said grumpily. ‘It was I who made the miscalculation. That’s why I was entombed. My spirit cannot rest until the deed is set right.’ ‘You!’ She stared at him, whispering almost to herself. ‘This is another of my dreams. I suffer from deficiencies in the blood from lack of food.’ ‘Nonsense, girl.’ The alchemist grinned slyly at her. ‘Your dreams are a manifestation of your desires. They cannot be satisfied whilst you sleep. Lord Ruarc has placed the means to satisfy your cravings within your reach, all you need do is go to him.’ A surge of warmth fluttered in her stomach. Lord Ruarc was being more generous and patient with her than she’d expected. ‘There’s truth is as you tell me,’ she murmured. But the spirit of the alchemist had gone, leaving in his wake a bowl of steaming broth and a set of warm garments. That night, determined to say awake, her eyes were drawn to a light high in a window of the manor. Concentrating on it she entered into a meditative state, allowing her spirit to gather into a shining nucleus. Her spirit travelled through the dark night and entered the manor in search of the truth. In a hall of mirrors she saw herself, an infant at her breast. Love like she’d never experienced filled the essence of her being. Another mirror showed Ruarc with the child. They were upon a landflight and the infant screamed with laughter as Ruarc made it prance. As the child turned towards her she saw his hair was silver like hers, his eyes a smoky purple. ‘What is his name?’ she whispered.’ Ruarc’s eyes were enigmatic. ‘He has no name, he’s the future.’ Wrenching herself away from them she continued in her search, finding Ruarc asleep in a chamber decorated with woven silk hangings. The tapestries told the story of the alchemist, of the creation of time and the world around them. The world and its ephemeral nature were vulnerable to the ravages of mortals, its end clearly shown. Yet amongst the ashes stood her
son, a tiny figure with a crown of gold set upon his head. She knew then the nature of Ruarc. Gazing down upon her lord she smiled with great tenderness. He’d passed through shallow sleep and was in a deep relaxed state, his subconscious open to her words. ‘Tell me Lord,’ she said softly. ‘Do you manipulate my dreams?’ His mouth curved in the softest of smiles. ‘I hear you, Nyari.’ ‘But you do not answer my question.’ His hair lay in wild abundance on the pillow and she brushed it with her fingers. Ruarc did not stir, though he smiled again. ‘Your touch is like velvet claws upon my hair, your breath a whisper of fragrance amongst the flowers. Who is the manipulator of dreams when you steal into my soul and fill every moment of my day and nights with your presence? From the moment I saw you I’ve had no rest, knowing I could never love another.’ Her heart filled with a sublime happiness. He stretched like a slumberous cat when she placed her lips against his. His dark eyes opened to search the perimeters of the room, but he could not see her as she withdrew to the high place. When she woke the world had a softer sound, the air an expectant hush. She looked below the fall and the rocks had become golden grains of sand.
