The Dracons' Woman: Book 1 of the Soul-Linked Saga

by Laura Jo Phillips

  “We are not willing to take such a chance with you,” Garen said flatly. “We have decided that we will forego the mating ritual, and any risk to you.”

  “You have already made your decision,” Lariah said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Without discussing it with me.”

  “We cannot lose you, Lariah,” Garen replied, crossing the room to sit beside her.

  “That means that we will never have children together,” she said.

  Garen’s jaw clenched, but his hand was gentle as he placed it against her cheek. “We cannot risk you, precious one,” he said. “We will not.”

  Lariah dropped her eyes. She stood and walked slowly away. Before she reached the doorway she paused and turned to face them. Her face was calm and composed, but her eyes were stormy with emotion.

  “I am hurt that you made this decision without even discussing it with me, as though I have no right to be part of something the effects me so directly,” she said evenly. “I am also angry that you three have unilaterally decided that I will never have children. You made that choice for me, without the courtesy of even once asking me how I felt about it. You had no right to do such a thing. Nor can you expect me to feel bound by your decision.”

  “Lariah,” Garen began, his heart in his throat, the very composure of her face scaring him more than her tears could ever have done.

  She held up a hand. “No Garen,” she said, her voice calm, but so cool that it didn’t even sound like her. “I wish to be alone. I ask that you respect my wish.”

  Garen hesitated, his every instinct screaming that he reach for her, stop her, hold her tight against him. He nodded. “For how long?” he asked.

  “For however long it takes me to decide what I should do,” she replied. “When I am ready, I will come to you.”

  Garen did not want to agree to this. He wanted her close so that they could answer her questions and convince her that what they had decided was best for them all. But he knew he could not force his will on her in this matter.

  “Agreed,” he said finally, reluctantly. He could only watch helplessly as she simply turned and left the room.

  It was a very long day for Garen, Val and Trey. They watched from a distance as Lariah strolled through the garden with Tiny at her heels, her usual joy in the flowers and birds absent, her face sad, her step heavy. She sat on the patio, motionless for so long it worried them, her eyes staring blankly into the distance, the sight of an occasional tear on her cheek making their hearts ache. Finally she stood and went into the guest bedroom and closed the door.

  When she emerged at last it was nearly dinner time. They waited in the living room, listening to the sounds of her light steps as she walked up the hall toward them. When she stepped into the doorway she was wearing the same outfit she had been wearing the day they had first seen her. The baggy pants, shirt and jacket a reminder they did not want. She carried her canvas tote bag and her purse, and it was obvious by the looseness of the bag that she had not packed any of her new clothes.

  “Lariah,” Garen said, his voice low but with a definite warning in it. “You are not leaving us.” It was nothing less than a command.

  Lariah sighed and lowered her bags to the floor. “I know that if you decide to stop me there is nothing I can do about it.” She shrugged, a slight lift of one shoulder. “That is up to you. But first, I want to tell you what I think, and how I feel.” She waited patiently until Garen gestured to her, indicating she should say what she wanted.

  “The three of you have made your decision. Your decision is based on what the three of you want. You want me with no risks, no promises, no commitments. Just your pleasure, your wants, your dreams and wishes. In a few years I will grow old and die. You will then be free to choose a normal human woman to have children with. You will have what you have decided I can not have.

  “You did not ask me what I wanted, have never asked me what I wanted. I am going to tell you anyway. I want children, and I want a family of my own.

  “I have no desire to waste my life, give up all of my dreams of family, because it pleases you three that I do so. Especially knowing that you give up nothing. You will have your family when you choose. You will live for many centuries should you choose. I have only a few decades to live, and I fought hard and suffered much to keep my life. It is mine, and I shall do with it as I please, not as you please.

  “It is better for us all that you let me walk out that door. Then, go pick yourselves a normal human woman, change her as you need to, and have children with her. I ask that you let me leave.”

  “We cannot,” Garen said, his voice hoarse around the knot in his throat. “You are our Arima. We cannot let you go.”

  “No Garen, I am not your Arima,” Lariah replied, her voice curiously gentle. “That is what the three of you fail to understand. You have told me what an Arima is, what she does, what it means to be an Arima. Yet, none of you have stopped to realize that I can do none of those things. I am, perhaps, a potential Arima. That is all I am. And, by your decree, that is all I will ever be.”

  Lariah paused, looking into the faces of the three men she loved, her heart aching. “I ask that you let me leave,” she repeated.

  “No,” Garen replied. “We cannot allow you to walk away from us.”

  Lariah nodded. “I did not think you would,” she said sadly. Then she picked her bags up, turned and paused. “I am sorry,” she said in a whisper. Then she walked back down the hall to the guest room. The sound of the door closing was soft, but somehow, it caused Galen, Val and Trey to flinch.

  “What are we going to do?” Val asked after a long, heavy silence.

  Garen shook his head. “I do not know,” he replied.

  The heavy silence returned. They all felt unsure of themselves, which was something none of them were used to.

  Finally Garen rose to his feet. “I am going to contact Eldar Hamat,” he announced. “Perhaps there is more to that prophecy about us finding our Arima than we know. If not, perhaps he can advise us.”

  Val and Trey nodded in agreement. “Yes,” Val said. “This is a good idea. At the least, perhaps another opinion will help us.”

  Garen made the call to the Council Chambers, and asked for Eldar Hamat Katre. The council aid bowed into the vid screen, and requested that Garen wait for Eldar Hamat to be summoned. Garen waited with as much patience as he could muster. He was fully aware, as were all Jasani, that Eldar Hamat was nearly three and a half thousand years old. He was the eldest member of their race, and the only one left living from before the Dark Time.

  It was not long before the familiar face of Eldar Hamat filled the vid screen. Everything about Eldar Hamat seemed thin. The bones of his face seemed too sharply etched, his shoulders too narrow, his build too wiry. Jasani males were, as a rule, large and muscular, but if Eldar Hamat ever had been, he no longer was. His dark butterscotch hair seemed faded and dull from the little Garen could see of it since it was pulled back in a thong, revealing his pointed ears. His eyes, the same butterscotch color as his hair, seemed distant and tired.

  Jasani did not age as humans do since their bodies regenerated at a rapid rate. But Eldar Hamat did show signs of deterioration. Garen was never really sure how much of it was due to the man’s advanced years, and how much was due to the many trials and hardships of his long life.

  “My Princes, I greet you,” Eldar Hamat said, his voice light and thready.

  Garen lowered his head, holding it down for a long moment, as close to a bow as he could come. “We greet you Eldar Hamat Katre,” he replied formally. “We would ask for your counsel.”

  “Of course,” he replied at once. “How may I be of service?”

  “As you are aware, we have found our Arima,” Garen began.

  “Yes, I am aware,” he agreed. “I am also aware that she is human, but different.”

  “Yes,” Garen said, relieved that he would not have to relate the entire story. “It is not known what will happen if we begin
the mating ritual with her,” Garen explained. “We are willing to forego it entirely rather than risk her,” he admitted.

  Eldar Hamat’s eyes sharpened. “You already love her,” he guessed.

  “Yes, we love her,” Garen replied. “We ask that you tell us more about Serat Katre’s prophecy.”

  “What do you wish to know?”

  Garen thought a moment. “We know of the prophecy,” he said slowly, “but we could not recite it to you. We never knew if it was about us, or our brothers. Because of that, we did not wish to dwell on it word for word. I know that was irresponsible of us,” Garen admitted. “Now we wish to hear the whole thing, if you do not mind.”

  “Do not be too hard on yourselves, my Princes. The truth is, aside from myself, there is no other living Jasani who has heard the full prophecy as it was spoken, and even that may not be the full prophecy as it was meant.”

  Garen was stunned, as were Trey and Val. “I do not understand,” he said finally, after discarding several other less polite statements.

  “I know,” Eldar Hamat replied. “That, in fact, was the intention. It was decided very long ago that only the male-set referred to in the prophecy itself should hear it in its entirety. I believe that is you three, therefore, the reason for my long life has finally arrived.”

  Garen’s sudden worry must have shown on his face. Eldar Hamat held up one hand, palm out. “Please, Highness, allow me to tell you my story. Then I will answer your questions.”

  Garen could only nod in agreement. “Of course,” he said.

  Eldar Hamat lowered his eyes, his brow creased in thought. After a long moment, he looked into the vid screen, and began to speak.

  “My brothers and I were the Seers of House Katre in the years leading up to the Dark Time,” he began. “I am the eldest of us. I am an Atzean, a Past Seer. I am able to remember every detail of the past in perfect clarity. I need only see, hear or read a thing for it to be etched forever in my mind.” Eldar Hamat paused a moment and smiled. “Therefore, you may trust that what I tell you now is perfectly accurate.”

  “My next youngest brother, Timat, was an Orain, a Now Seer. He was able to see all of the details of a current situation, the most probable effects it would have, as well as what needed to be done in response to it. When it was discovered that a plan to destroy Narrastia had been set in motion, Timat was able to see that the Narrasti had done the same to us. Our own planet, Ugaztun, would soon be destroyed, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it.”

  “My youngest brother, Serat, was an Etorkizu, a Future Seer. It was he who saw that we must create escape pods for as many of our people as possible, as quickly as possible.” Hamat’s eyes filled with sadness. “Unfortunately, we were in a battle at the time that foresight came to Serat. Before he could speak further, he was severely wounded by a weapon of magic. He lay unconscious for many days, his wound so grave the healers we had available to us could do little for him. We did not have Healers such as Riata then. We could only keep him still and quiet, and wait to see if he would live, or if he would die.

  “In the meantime, Serat’s warning was heeded, and escape pods were created as quickly as possible.” Hamat stopped speaking and raised a glass to his lips. Garen had the strong sense that the man had stopped more to brace himself than to drink. After a moment he set the glass back down, took a deep breath and looked back up into the vid screen. “Timat and I could not leave our brother, but we insisted our Arima take our three young daughters and board a pod with some other women. We promised her that we would follow as soon as we were able.”

  Eldar Hamat’s voice broke on the last sentence and he bowed his head, one palm up in a silent request for patience. Garen, Trey and Val remained silent, unable to fathom the pain the Eldar had to be feeling. Garen was about to suggest that they continue the conversation at another time, as much as he hated to do it, when Eldar Hamat raised his head once more and cleared his throat.

  “Forgive me,” he said, his voice weaker than before. As one, Garen, Trey and Val raised their right fists and placed them over their hearts. Eldar Hamat bowed his head in silent thanks, and continued with his story.

  “Timat and I waited as long as we could, but eventually, we were forced to move Semat in order to board one of the final pods. He remained unconscious until our pod landed here, on Jasan. Our landing was quite rough, and Semat took further injury. Because his body was already weak from the first injury, he was unable to withstand the mundane injury caused by the landing. He awakened for a time near the end, and that is when he spoke his final words.”

  Eldar Hamat cleared his throat once more. When he spoke, his voice was stronger and clearer than before.

  “Semat’s last words were these, exactly,”

  In the fullness of manhood, the patience of the royal sons of the third generation beyond this day, shall be met with their soul’s fulfillment in a daughter of a distant sun.

  Have they faith in the three, by the three shall all be blessed.

  Radiant with the glory of lau-lotu shall they descend from the sky in flame before the people, and the people shall be renewed.

  Shall faith be denied, so the people shall be lost, forevermore.

  Garen was, once again, stunned. He had never made an effort to memorize the prophecy, but he remembered enough to know that he had never heard the last line. He was just about to begin asking questions when Eldar Hamat began speaking again.

  “There were two problems with the prophecy,” Eldar Hamat went on. “The first problem was that Semat did not finish it. He drew in one breath, as though to speak further, then breathed no more. We could not be certain that Semat would have said more, but that is what we believed.

  “The second problem was the last line Semat spoke. As soon as Timat heard it, he knew that it would be the one line remembered most strongly by the survivors of our race. Rather than foster hope, it would cast a pall of gloom that would have destroyed what was left of our people within a few short years.

  “Only Timat, and three others were present when Semat spoke the prophecy. Together we agreed that the last line should be held back, but that the people should hear the rest of the prophecy to give them hope. It was also agreed that the possibility that Semat had not completed the prophecy should be held back as well, for the same reason. Finally, we agreed that when the time of the prophecy came about, providing that the male-set concerned asked, they would be told the entire story, and the entire prophecy. Otherwise, fate would be allowed to take its course, and what would be, would be.”

  Finished speaking, Eldar Hamat folded his hands on the table before him and gazed patiently into the vid screen. Garen needed a few moments to decide what he wanted most to ask.

  “Why was it decided to tell us this only if we asked?” he asked, surprising himself with the question.

  “I am not surprised that you ask the most complex question first, Highness,” he said to Garen.

  Garen blinked. He had thought it was a rather silly question to ask first, but had not been able to help himself.

  “Before the Dark Time, there were several Seers aside from myself, Timat and Serat,” Eldar Hamat explained. “There was much debate about prophecies, and how they should be used. Some were of the opinion that they should be followed to the letter, that to ignore them was to tempt fate.

  “Others believed, myself and my brothers included, that they were a glimpse into the future, the most probable future perhaps, but by no means absolute. They might serve as warnings, be harbingers of hope, or even act as guides, but they should never be used in place of living itself.

  “For example, you three, my Princes, accepted that the prophecy may be about you, and because of that, you refrained from taking a wife for far longer than you otherwise might have. In that, you allowed the prophecy to guide you. However, you did not want the prophecy to dictate to you, so you avoided more complete knowledge of it.”

  Eldar Hamat’s eyebrows rose as he noticed the
expressions of growing shame on the faces in his vid screen. “Please understand me, I approve of that decision completely. In my opinion, you acted correctly. If you had never asked me to tell you more, I would continue to believe you acted correctly. I believe that what will be, will be, whether you hear a prophecy or not.”

  “Eldar Hamat,” Garen said, “I think I understand, but I would like to think on it some more. Would you mind speaking with me on this subject further at another time?”

  “I would be happy to, Highness,” Eldar Hamat replied, the light in his otherwise dull eyes suddenly bright with genuine pleasure.

  Garen smiled at Eldar Hamat’s response, then went back to the real problem. “Do you understand the line in the prophecy concerning faith in the three?”

  “I am sorry, Highness. I have pondered that puzzle since Serat spoke it, even more so of late since your Arima was found. Yet I do not understand it. What exactly were you looking for?” Eldar Hamat asked curiously.

  “Something to give us a hint as to what we should do,” Garen replied.

  “I thought that you had decided to forego the ritual?” Then, it came to him. “Ah, your Arima does not agree with your decision,” he said.

  “No, she does not,” Garen replied. “In fact, she has told us that she is not, in truth, our Arima.”

  “Can this be so?” he asked.

  “No, absolutely not,” Garen said firmly. “She says that she is only a potential Arima, whatever that means.”

  Eldar Hamat chuckled, surprising Garen greatly. “She is wise, your Arima.”

  “Do you know what will happen if we perform the rite?” Garen asked.

  “I am sorry Highness, but no, I do not.”