The Seer

by MacArran, Ariel

  Larner smiled at her like someone who had learned to so by imitating a character in a holodrama. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

  “It’s always nice to meet new people,” she said with a glance at Jolar to underscore that she sensed no recognition on Larner’s part. Jolar caught her meaning instantly and she felt his mind uncoil with relief.

  “What do you do, Master Tovic?” she asked, turning back to Larner.

  “I own a mining operation on the third moon.”

  Larner’s voice and expression were pleasant but Arissa suddenly saw in her mind the image of him practicing this demeanor in front of a mirror over and over to get it right.

  “Oh,” she managed faintly, thrown by the mental impression. “I don’t know much about mining.”

  Larner frowned a little as if he didn’t know how to answer that.

  “Well,” Jolar said into the awkward pause. “Has that been a long-standing career or are you new to it?”

  “Oh,” Larner said, his face going a little blank. “I inherited the operation. My family has been in crystal mining for generations.”

  Then he smiled, as if reminding himself to do so.

  “Actually you might want to talk to Jolar then,” Bruscan said genially. “He’s been tasked with choosing the next crystal supplier for the Fleet.”

  “The current contract with CenCorp ends in three months. Maybe you can give me the best price,” Jolar said to Larner. “We should schedule a time to discuss it.”

  Larner’s blankness returned. “I’m in mining, Master Legan. The law forbids me from also owning a refining plant.”

  “It does?” Arissa asked, surprised. She hadn’t thought the law would stop anyone on Sertar from doing anything.

  He turned to her. “To prevent a monopoly, of course.”

  Looking into those flat gray eyes and feeling the equally cold-blooded mind behind them was utterly unnerving.

  “Of course,” she managed.

  “Perhaps you might suggest someone.” Bruscan gave a self-deprecating shrug. “I’m afraid my business interests lay outside the crystal consortium.”

  “I will consider the matter,” Larner said.

  Then he smiled again.

  Subsequent conversation was equally strange and ungainly and Arissa didn’t feel capable of drawing a deep breath again until the man excused himself.

  “Now I wish I’d finished that brandy,” Jolar muttered. “I don’t know that I’ve ever met anyone so odd.”

  “He’s an excellent businessman,” Bruscan said lowly. “He never forgets a conversation or a detail, no matter how small.”

  “He’s your friend?” Jolar asked. “How do you talk to him for more than five minutes?”

  “I never said he was a friend,” Bruscan returned. “I said I knew him. I don’t believe Master Tovic has any friends.”

  “I can see why,” Jolar grumbled. “And frankly, right now I wouldn’t mind another drink.”

  Arissa pressed her palm against her forehead to cool it.

  Jolar frowned. “Are you all right?”

  “I will be,” she said, with a quick smile and dropped her hand. Uncentered by the encounter with Larner Tovic, the crowd’s emotions rose to a roar in her head and she winced, suddenly desperate for a few moments alone. “Can I meet you at the bar? I think I’ll find the ‘fresher first.”

  His protectiveness spiked then, probably realizing she had picked up on it, Jolar gave her a chagrined smile. “I guess I can let you go to the ‘fresher by yourself.”

  “I’ll be fine,” she promised.

  But making her way through the partygoers was harder for her than she expected, and not just because of the crush of the crowd. Overly sensitized now, emotions pressed in on her and she struggled to keep them at bay.

  The male guests were well dressed yet seemed possessed of the same cunning, sharp gazes. Their glances lingered on her and to her surprise Arissa realized a number of them found her attractive—but right now the attention was far from welcome. She was forced to twist her way through the crowd and her teeth clenched with annoyance as more than once a man’s hand lingered ‘accidently’ on her rump.

  The smell of so many perfumes and colognes, albeit expensive, mixed in such close proximity made the air gaggingly sweet and Arissa’s nose stung from it. Some of the women seemed pampered— even sheltered—mistresses, wives and daughters, but beneath their expensive gowns and elegant coiffures most were as hard hearted as the men. Though a brush of their minds revealed they didn’t find her appearance wanting as she’d feared they would, still she was trembling a bit at the emotions buffeting her. Too far from Jolar now to narrow her focus to just him, she pushed with more urgency to escape the crowd. She hadn’t sensed such ruthless self-absorption even in the most run down streets of Xan-Tellar.

  She reached the main corridor of the house and a servant, seeing her hesitation, offered assistance and directions. Arissa’s face warmed as she realized she didn’t have any money in her tiny evening purse to tip the woman. The attendant gave her a brief, annoyed glance when no credits were forthcoming and quickly moved on to better prospects.

  Arissa followed the woman’s directions to the opposite end of the corridor. Drawing a shaky breath, she gratefully shut and locked the ‘fresher’s door behind her. The appointments of the bathroom included Utavian star lilies in the fresh flower arrangements, rich perfumes and creams for the guests’ use and individual cosmetics in pretty packages that she could no doubt help herself to and take with her.

  Arissa wetted a cloth and pressed it to her forehead. Leaning over the cut crystal sink, she steadied and slowed her breathing, consciously drawing her focus inward to regain her inner balance.

  After a few minutes she felt calmed enough to go back to the party. Surveying her appearance in the mirror, Arissa took a moment to adjust one of the combs holding up her ringlets, again very, very glad that she’d had the demi-permanent make-up done. She scarcely knew how to act at a party and couldn’t imagine the added anxiety of worrying about smeared lip color as well.

  She was on her way back to Jolar, skirting the edge of the room but this area was particularly crowded and, squeezing through the crush of bodies, she accidently elbowed someone.

  Arissa turned to offer her apology and blinked. “Oh, hi.”

  Kemma smiled. “Arissa, hello.”

  “Kemma, I’m sorry I—” Arissa began but Kemma waved it off.

  “It’s crazy crowded here. Lian,” she said, reaching out to touch her protector’s shoulder. “You remember Arissa?”

  Lian’s face lit with recognition. “Of course. How are you?”

  “Arissa was on the Queen’s Light with us,” Kemma explained the man they had been conversing with. “Arissa, this is Danlen Mirat.”

  Arissa’s breath caught then instantly she smiled.

  But not quickly enough.

  “Do I know you?” Danlen asked, his words still bearing the echo of his Gensoyan heritage, his silver hair bright under the party laterns’ light.

  He was confident to the point of arrogance and hardened but within him there was softness for something or someone he cared deeply about. He was puzzled by her reaction, and guarded.

  Arissa cleared her throat. “Oh, I think I heard my husband mention your name.”

  “I know your husband?”

  Danlen’s hazel eyes were narrowed but she sensed he’d judged her too naïve, too young to be threatening.

  Arissa gave a half-shrug, hoping to look even more girlishly artless. “I’m afraid I wasn’t really paying attention. But he’s over at the bar and I’m headed that way now. Even if you don’t know one another,” she nodded toward his nearly empty glass, “you could get a fresh drink.”

  A young woman—the worse for wine and sadly lacking any skill—stood on a nearby sofa to regale her fellow guests by singing a popular tune.

  “Sounds good to me,” Lian agreed raising his voice to be heard over the singer. “I just realiz
ed I’m parched.”

  Kemma’s sense thrummed for a moment and she threw an exasperated look at the would-be songbird even as the woman’s embarrassed friends sought to coax her down. “I hope it’s less crowded there.”

  It wasn’t; if anything it was more so, but Jolar’s height made him easy to find.

  “Arissa,” he said, his expression echoing the relieved unwinding of his sense. “I was getting worried.”

  Sorry. It’s not easy to get around in here. Look who I ran into,” she added quickly. “Kemma and Lian. And this is their friend, Danlen Mirat.”

  Jolar’s smile hid shocked awareness.

  “Your wife thought I might know you,” Danlen said.

  Arissa threw her focus at Danlen, probing as the man’s glance went over Jolar’s face.

  Jolar’s brilliant smile didn’t waver. “Do you?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry!” Arissa caught Jolar’s gaze. “I guess you don’t know each other.” She gave Danlen a smile. “Master Mirat, this is my husband, Jolar Legan.”

  Danlen offered his hand. “A pleasure.”

  Jolar clasped it. “Good to meet you.”

  “I promised them all a drink.” Arissa eyed the crowd in front of the bar. “But it looks like we’re in for a wait.”

  “Yeah,” Jolar said. “The party’s really picked up.”

  “And a fresh one sounds good right about now. If you’ll excuse me,” Danlen said, with a nod at them he took up a place in the line.

  “Arissa? Do you want a drink?” Jolar asked.

  She shook her head. The last thing she wanted right now was her head clouded.

  “Kemma, what about you?” Lian asked.

  “I’ll sip on yours,” Kemma said. She put her hand on Arissa’s arm to draw her along. “Meet us outside, we’re going to get crushed standing here.”

  Arissa reached out to touch Danlen’s mind but couldn’t sense any suspicion or threat there.

  “We’ll stick close to the door so you can find us,” Arissa promised with a smile at Jolar. She gave a quick meaningful look in Danlen’s direction. “I know you might have to wait a while.”

  She sensed Jolar, too, knew this to be a perfect opportunity to strike up a conversation with Danlen. He gave her a nod and Arissa let Kemma lead her outside.

  “So how do you know Danlen?” Arissa asked as they stepped out into the patio.

  Kemma shrugged. “I don’t. He and Lian just struck up a conversation about the darshball playoffs. Lema verses Gensoy, that sort of thing. How do you know him?” Kemma asked, her green eyes sharp. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure he bought that you didn’t.”

  Arissa bit the inside of her cheek. “Jolar is here to select the Fleet’s next crystal supplier. Danlen was mentioned as a possibility for the contract.”

  Kemma gave a knowing smile. “And so Jolar was looking to meet him, right?”

  Arissa winced. “I guess could have done that better.”

  Kemma gave a soft laugh. “No, it went fine. When Lian’s here on business I spend a lot of my time trying to charm his contacts. Of course being a charming companion is my business.” Kemma rubbed her arms. “It’s too hot in there, it’s too cold out here. You know,” she said, suddenly brightening. “We should leave them to charming their own contacts for once and do something fun.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like shopping in Tano-Sertar. What do you say?”

  “Jolar says the city is very dangerous.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t be hanging around the spaceport pawn shops,” Kemma returned with a laugh. “We’d stick boutiques and shops of the upper city.”

  Arissa smiled. “I’d love to go.”

  “Absolutely fracking not!”

  Sitting on the edge of the bed and still dressed in the gown she’d worn to the party, Arissa dropped her heels to the floor then gratefully pointed and flexed her aching feet. “Jolar, you told me to be obvious about living beyond our means. Aren’t I supposed to act frivolous and spoiled?”

  Arissa found the quiet and privacy of their suite at Bruscan’s house a welcome balm to her overtaxed Seer’s senses. Done in serene blues and warm creams their second floor suite was larger than the central living space of the house she had grown up in. The bed she sat on was curtained, the swathes of creamy fabric drawn back dramatically to reveal the wide bed with its many overfilled pillows. The doors of their private balcony were closed against the chill night air and the suite consisted of a combination bed and sitting room, as well as private dressing and bathroom beyond.

  “You are not going alone into Tano!”

  “I wouldn’t be alone,” she pointed out. “I’m going with Kemma.”

  “Right,” he snapped. The formal shirt he’d worn tonight hung half unfastened, his face flushed and angry. “A Niman Ornament who just happens to know one of the most powerful crystal refiners on Sertar, a man we’ve come to investigate. A man who may be responsible for multiple murders. Perfectly safe!”

  “She doesn’t know him. They just bumped into each other at the party.”

  “You don’t really believe that?”

  “It’s true!”

  Jolar’s nostrils flared. “How can you—” He broke off but his mind still buzzed with worry. “Are you sure? Positive she doesn’t know him?”

  “I’m sure. She met him only a few minutes before I did.” How could he not understand how much this meant to her? “You could send a guard with me.”

  “Why are you so eager to do this, anyway? You didn’t seem all that enthusiastic about shopping on the ship. What’s Tano got that has you so set on going?”

  Arissa dropped her gaze. “It’s not the shopping,” she mumbled. “It’s that she asked me to go. I’ve never done that. Spent an afternoon with someone my age. Had a girlfriend.”

  Jolar softened. “I never thought of that.” He sat down on the bed beside her to gather her against him and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Of course you should go, sweet.” Arissa gave him a quick smile and his blue eyes went stern. “And hell yes, I’m sending guards with you.”

  Guards? As in plural? The hard set of his mind showed now was not the time to argue though.

  “What happened with Danlen? Did you get to talk to him at all?”

  “Some,” Jolar said. “He showed little interest in the contract, which is in itself strange. I wish you’d been there to tell me what was really going on in his head. I want you there next time I meet with him.”

  She bit her lip. “Sorry about that, I thought I’d have more time with him. I didn’t think he’d leave the party so soon. I know it isn’t much but— remember what Bruscan said about vulnerabilities? Danlen’s got something he cares about. I don’t know what but there’s some softness within him. Still I don’t bet many would think to cross him.” She swallowed. “Better to cross him than Larner though.”

  “Why?” He rubbed her back. “Not that the man didn’t give me the creeps but I was wondering what you sensed.”

  “He’s extremely intelligent—dispassionately so. Like he could slice someone apart and feel nothing more than detached curiosity while they screamed.” She shuddered. “Danlen you could bargain with, he has enough heart that he might be moved but Larner? No.”

  “And his expressions,” Jolar said. “So . . .”

  “Rehearsed,” Arissa supplied.

  “A snake pit,” Jolar muttered, his expression troubled. But then he gave her a half-smile. He drew her closer and brushed a kiss across her mouth. “That Niman beach is sounding better and better.”

  She smiled. “So we’ll go there and then you want to take me to Zartan?”

  “I want to take you everywhere,” he murmured and his mouth quirked upward.

  He hooked the straps of her evening gown with his fingers and slid them down over her shoulders. His thumb traced the peak of her breast as he eased the gown off, the nipple pebbling under his touch.

  He urged her back to lie in the center of the bed and his voice be
came husky. “But I have a particular image in mind of you under the Niman moons, lying back on a blanket in the sand, open and ready for me.”

  “It may be a while before we get to Nima,” she said breathlessly as his mouth moved lower.

  “Well then.” She felt him smile against the skin of her chest, his palm against the inside of her thigh to spread her wider. “I guess I have time to get some practice in . . .”

  Seventeen

  Any enjoyment Arissa might have had riding to her first-ever afternoon of shopping with a friend was obliterated by the two granite-faced guards in crisp gray uniforms seated across from her in Bruscan’s groundcar.

  She was tempted to ditch them. It wouldn’t take much effort now, thanks to the practicing Jolar had forced on her, a moment’s inattention or redirection and she’d slip away.

  But she sure wouldn’t look forward to facing Jolar later. And she didn’t think the guards would either.

  In stark contrast to the other crime-ridden areas they’d sped through, this part of the city was clearly affluent. No chemical-seeking vagrants with reddened, hooded eyes sullied this section of the city and SerSec officers had a visible presence. If it was duracrete under her feet, it had been disguised to look like Novician marble; if not, then the expense just of the pavement here was staggering. Greenery was pleasantly scattered about and every surface was sparklingly clean but there was not so much as bench or surface to be leaned on. The intent, no doubt, was to force shoppers to rest tired feet in one of the many eateries.

  Patrons strolling here were as well dressed as the holoforms in the shop windows they walked past. Even in a shopping district meant to cater to the affluent, Arissa was not the only one with her own private security escort.

  Arissa made it a little early to the agreed upon meeting place at one of the many lavish fountains to see Kemma already there.

  “Hi—” Kemma’s enthusiastic tone changed as she took in the uniformed men. “Arissa.”

  Arissa’s face warmed. She was the only one in the plaza accompanied by more than one guard and Kemma didn’t have any at all. “Sorry. Jolar insisted.”