by Mara Gan
“What?” I asked, surprised at this abrupt shift.
He glanced down, focused. “Something bit me.”
I frowned and looked around. “Wait—it bit you through your shoe?”
He shook his head, rubbing his neck. “No,” he replied. “It fell from above, bit my neck, and fell somewhere….”
I followed his eyes, trying to see what it could have been. Truth was, we had any number of things that would bite here in the Hypethral. I’d love to say none were fatal or venomous, but really, that depended on your species.
“Aha,” Perseus growled. “There you are, you little—”
“Stop!” I cried, grabbing his arm. I had seen it at the same moment his boot raised to stomp the poor little thing. “It’s just a spider.” k`1`2
“Just a spider?” He turned to me incredulously. “Meda, it’s a spider. I thought all girls were afraid of them.”
I rolled my eyes and tugged him back, out of range of the furry spider that had frozen in place, probably in fear. “I resent the vaguely sexist comment, for one thing. For another, I respect all life, no matter how creepy or crawly.” I smiled. “Doesn’t mean I want to find it in my living room, but still.”
“So you’re not going to let me kill it?”
I put my hands on my hips. “Killing things isn’t always the answer, you big oaf. Poor thing was just defending itself.” I stooped to pick up a broad leaf and, putting it under the spider, flung it gently into the underbrush.
Clee dropped nimbly to the ground. “I’d say that spider’s out to get you, Protector,” she said seriously. “We should gather. Talk strategy. Meeting? Zero seven hundred?”
“Oh, you are just so funny,” Perseus replied, rubbing his neck.
I tilted my head, eyeing him. “Let me see that bite.”
He raised a brow at me. “What? You want to rub lemon juice in it?”
I giggled. “Well, I could, but I’m fresh out of lemon juice right now. Does it bother you?”
“It’s fine.”
I rolled my eyes. “So that’s a yes,” I said, moving to the ferns nearby. “Just a second.”
“What is that spider even doing here, anyway?” he asked, glancing around. “That looked more like a desert spider than a forest one.”
“Our gardeners and scientists have worked hard to make this forest unique. With the attention and research that have gone into our forestry studies over the past few centuries, anything can survive here, so long as we want it to.” I lifted my shoulders, still searching for the plant I wanted. “Life is easy—as long as people truly want something to survive, we cooperate to make sure that it does. Carelessness and disinterest are the real killers.”
I could feel his eyes studying me for a few silent moments. “And you once told me that you weren’t wise,” he murmured.
I blinked and glanced up. “I’m not.”
“You think with your heart, Princess,” Clee said. “There is no finer wisdom than that.”
I rubbed my arm, feeling shy, then quickly turned back to hunting for the plant I needed.
“Is the pain spreading?” I called.
Clee laughed. “Princess, you know the Protector would never admit to feeling pain.”
Perseus glanced at her. “Pain means vulnerability, Clee. I doubt you would admit it either.”
Clee’s violet eyes sparkled. “Not even if I were beheaded by a giant scorpion.”
I threw my hands up. “You’re both big babies. Perseus, come over here. I can help.”
“What?” he asked, searching the foliage. “Do you see the thing that bit me? I’d love to sever—”
“Stop thinking about vengeance. I’m talking about healing.” I paused, tapping my cheek. “Ah! There it is.” I trudged into the undergrowth, reaching down to break off a leaf from a small, broad-leafed plant with bright green leaves.
“This one,” I said, turning over the leaves. “It has an antibacterial property that helps kill infections, and it has a mild opiate quality to numb the pain.”
He looked intrigued. “How do you know this?”
I shrugged. “I like plants,” I offered. “I read a lot. The usual ways.” I frowned up at him. “You’re too tall,” I said finally. “Could you bend down so I can put this on your neck?”
He gave me a half smile, the one that I liked way too much. “You’re actually offering to heal me? You wouldn’t rather I suffered?”
My frown deepened. “I would never wish—” I paused. “Oh. You’re funning me.”
He chuckled as he knelt and tilted his neck. “Clearly, few people have ever done that with you.”
“No one, actually,” I confessed.
“I normally wouldn’t bother treating a sting, Princess, but I admit you have me interested with this ‘healing plant’ of yours,” he said as I rubbed the underside of the leaf against the redness on his neck. Some of the spores rubbed off, and I pressed the leaf into his neck, allowing it to absorb through his skin.
My fingers brushed his bare skin and I stifled the electric sensation that shot through me. I held my breath, not wanting to show how much he affected me, but my heart was pounding.
I breathed gently through my nose and tried to tell my pounding heart to shut up.
“There,” I said softly, pulling the leaf away and looking down at him. “All better.”
He turned and I was caught in his gaze. For the briefest of moments, I was frozen, consumed by the intensity burning in his black eyes. They swallowed me with warmth, with electricity, with an emotion I didn’t understand—
Abruptly, he turned and stood, towering over me, his voice suddenly hard. “I didn’t need your assistance, Princess, but thank you anyway.” He turned and gestured for me to walk in front of him. “It’s time to return to your rooms.”
I swallowed and nodded, dropping the used leaf in the underbrush behind me. I lifted my chin, trying desperately to regain my composure, but I couldn’t help notice the odd gleam in Clee’s eyes as I passed her.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I frowned. “Yalan?”
The tall man before me curled his lip in what I assumed was meant to be a smile. “At your service, Princess,” he said smoothly, although I swore he was saying it sarcastically. “I am ever at your disposal.”
“Why are you escorting me?” I asked slowly, studying his face. I sensed no deception from him, only irritability and boredom, leading me to believe he meant no immediate harm. I just wasn’t sure he was going to do as he was asked.
“Because I’m a nice guy at heart, babycakes,” he said, standing aside and motioning for me to precede him. “And because I’ve got frankly nothing better to do while Perseus embarks on this ridiculous life-finding quest of his.”
“But….” I faltered, not moving. “Didn’t you refuse Perseus’s nominating you to the Protectorate?”
“Yep.”
“Then….”
He rolled his eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m just biding my time until Perseus realizes that being a mercenary is far more interesting than guarding your delicious little self.” He winked as my cheeks flamed red. “If I can assist Perseus in reaching that conclusion by performing menial tasks like this, then so be it. Now let’s go. I haven’t got all day.” He paused. “Well, actually, I do, but I don’t feel like spending it walking a short little princess to her adorable little meetings.”
I scowled at him. “You are not a terribly nice person, are you?”
He grabbed his chest in mock dismay. “Oh, god no,” he sneered. “The princess doesn’t like me. Shut up and let’s go.”
My annoyance got the better of me and I stepped out of my apartments, moving down the hall with a haughty lift of my shoulders. “I don’t need your assistance,” I said proudly, ensuring that the doors closed behind me. “You can go back to whatever meaningless tasks you feel like accomplishing today. I, on the other hand, will attend to the matter of helping people.”
I felt him fall into step beside me. “Oh
, the princess has some spunk, does she?” he replied, and I felt the flicker of amusement from him. He had a remarkable censor over his emotions, but I still had no trouble reading him. He was irritated and clearly in a foul mood, but he wasn’t going to harm me. Besides, Perseus wouldn’t have sent him if he weren’t trustworthy, right? But why hadn’t Perseus sent Egil or Kenzi? I’d heard he had hired them to the Protectorate.
I moved to take the spiral path down through my Cube’s small Hypethral, similar in many ways to the main forest in the center of the station, but far smaller and simpler and containing only a few types of trees and flowers. Yalan grabbed my arm to stop me. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
I gazed at him coolly. “To my appointments.”
He narrowed his eyes. “The long way.”
I lifted my chin. “I always go this way. And aren’t your orders to take me there?”
“We will take the lift, the usual, swift way,” he replied, his fingers biting into my arm as he jerked me away from the forest path.
I dug in my feet and tried to pull away. “Hey—”
Yalan yanked me closer and gripped my other arm with his free hand, pulling me up on my toes so I was afforded a close-up view of his cold brown eyes.
“I will break your arm.” He smiled calmly.
My eyes widened. “Doesn’t that go against your… uh, orders?”
“First of all, I don’t do orders,” he said amicably, releasing his hold on one arm while he shook the other and led me away. This time I didn’t struggle, too stunned at what he’d said. “Not from Perseus, not from anyone. Secondly, you’d still be alive. Hardly makes a difference if you’re a wee bit damaged.” He grinned.
I frowned. “You’re… a little morally dubious, aren’t you?”
“I’m insulted, Princess,” he said. “I am far more than ‘a little’ morally dubious.”
I swallowed and let him lead me toward my office. “That may be putting it mildly.”
He smiled mirthlessly. “Glad we understand each other.”
I was quiet the rest of the way, and thankfully his bruising grip on my arm lightened a little as he realized I was going to cooperate. Why had Perseus sent him? I didn’t sense any deception from Yalan, but I still didn’t trust him any farther than I could toss my spaceship.
Petitions today were blissfully simple, for which I was grateful. I was more tired than usual; sleeping was difficult, and I had been so busy during the day that I desperately needed sleep. But the telepathic noise on the station hammered into my head late at night and no amount of cough syrup could put me to sleep and quiet the roar. Sometimes I just hid under my covers, cradling Myrtilos, and rocking back and forth in pain.
I was certain the fatigue was starting to show on my face. My eyes looked like two dark circles all the time, and I could swear I was even paler than I usually was.
Once I finished with petitioners, I quietly slipped out of my office a little ahead of schedule, hoping to avoid another confrontation. Yalan had said he would return to pick me up from my appointments and escort me back to my apartments, but I really didn’t want to run in to such an unpleasant man again. He made me distinctly uncomfortable, and I had little doubt he really would break my arm if he wanted to expedite the process.
I deftly slid open the panel in the wall of my office, discovered over a year ago when I was poking around for something mundane, like scissors, and crawled into the secret passageway. I couldn’t access it from the corridor, but I hardly needed to. I just needed to escape my office from the inside to weasel away from whoever had been assigned to babysit me for the day.
God, I hated being babysat and marched from one place to the other. When the Mousai escorted me, it was on official business, but I was only allowed to go from point A to point B in a direct line. I felt a little like a cross between a prisoner and a really important farm animal, and I always, always felt like I was a burden to whoever had gotten stuck with the job.
And I really, really didn’t want Yalan to be escorting me. He made me feel even worse about being guarded than I already did. And he only confirmed my suspicions that everyone had better things to do than walk me from my office to my apartments, particularly when I was perfectly capable of doing it myself. For goodness’s sake, it was the middle of the day. People were everywhere. What could possibly go wrong?
I wiggled through my cabinet door and, peeking briefly into the private corridor on the other side, quickly slipped out and closed the door behind me. I stood, brushed myself off, and hurried out the corridor and into the Esplanade, intending to walk through the Hypethral before heading back to my apartments.
Just a quick detour. I’d be good and not stay too long, but I wanted to get a breath of fresh air before going home.
Halfway through the crowded Esplanade, I saw Perseus.
He was sitting alone at a table just outside the Velurian bakery shop, his back to me as he studied a data pad. He was drinking something hot, and the plate in front of him seemed to hold a large berry scone of some kind. One long leg rested on the opposite chair.
I hesitated. I didn’t want to approach him, exactly. But I was tired of fighting with him, and he looked so calm right now. And I felt like he and I had almost come to some kind of silent agreement the other day in the Hypethral, so maybe…. Maybe we could be cordial on a permanent basis, if we could just see eye to eye.
I took a deep breath. My stomach whirled with jitters and my heart pounded as I slowly walked toward him.
“I was wondering if you were going to talk to me.”
I puffed my cheeks out in nervous surprise. “You knew I was behind you?”
Perseus put his pad down, turning his gaze to me. “Of course.”
“Then why—”
He shrugged. “I figured you would come if you needed something.”
“You’re not mad I’m alone?”
“Let’s just say I’m not surprised,” he said mildly.
“Oh.”
“I imagine Yalan was not the most diligent of attendants,” he drawled, “for which I will be having words with him, but I do intend to figure out how you keep getting around your other guards.”
I kept my features bland, giving away nothing. “Yalan is not the nicest person.”
He inclined his head. “That is true.”
“I would… prefer it if he wasn’t assigned to escort me anymore.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Why?”
I rubbed my arm. “He’s….”
He waited.
“He’s unpleasant,” I said finally, feeling guilty for saying something unkind about someone who was not present.
Perseus chuckled. “Is that all? Be glad he didn’t try to put a move on you.”
I frowned. “Do what now?”
He waved his hand, his smile deepening. “Never mind. So?”
I rubbed my arm again, hugging it closer. “So what?”
“What can I do for you, Princess?” he asked. “Surely you wouldn’t have taken time out of your busy schedule just to say hello to a mercenary like me.”
“I….” I hesitated again. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you.” I turned to go.
“Wait.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Princess. I did not mean to be rude. Please, sit.”
I relaxed a little and took the invitation. “Why did you send Yalan and not Kenzi or Egil?” I asked slowly, not wanting to question his job but needing to know.
“I was training Kenzi and Egil in the gym,” Perseus replied. “I needed them to practice on each other, and I needed to be the one training them. And to my knowledge all the Mousai are otherwise appointed. I only sat down a few minutes ago.”
“What about Gi?”
“I’m not even sure where Gi is, to be honest. He has as much affinity for his MCD as you do.”
“Then why send anyone at all?” I asked. “I’ve gone to appointments by myself before.”
He frowned at me. “
And as I’ve said, I will not allow you to anymore,” he said sternly. “All it takes is one time, Princess.”
“Oh.”
He gestured to the other chair again. “Please, Princess, have a seat.” He used his foot to push the opposite chair out from underneath the table and gestured easily with his hand. I frowned at the crassness.
His lips twitched. “Something wrong?”
I looked up directly into his eyes, and noted the challenge there—and the humor. That sense of humor I had been dying to see again.
I grinned slightly. “Only your manners, Protector,” I said easily, and sat. I found it odd that I could so easily dismiss his lack of manners as a facet of his charm, but Yalan’s roughness just made me feel uncomfortable. But Perseus did it with such a challenge, such a sense of teasing, that I never minded anymore; Yalan did it because he was just an unpleasant person.
Perseus laughed and I smiled. He laughed so rarely. “That much I’ve been told before,” he replied, nodding. He took a chunk of his scone and tipped his head back, plopping the bite into his mouth. Crumbs fell all over his shirt, which he nimbly brushed off.
I shook my head, conflicted with feeling simultaneously appalled and charmed. “You really aren’t used to being in polite company, are you?”
“Nope,” he agreed. “But then, I generally dislike polite company and have, as a rule, avoided it.”
He was such a bizarre mixture of refined and unrefined that I couldn’t help but stare for a few moments. He had more money than most planets, yet he was as uncivilized and untamed as they came. For a man who had begun life with nothing and managed to lose more as he got older, he’d done remarkably well for himself.
Yet he seemed to want to hide all that and live in abject poverty with the manners of a dog. Perseus may well have been the most fascinating person I’d ever come across.
“What are you eating?”
He took a swig of his drink. “A berry scone—I’ve no idea what kind, to be honest, but it’s good—and black citrus tea.”
I laughed outright. “You’re having tea and scones?” I asked incredulously, my shyness fading.
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that so bizarre?”
