by L. E. Horn
Sean straightened and leaned on his shovel. All around him, men and a few aliens were hard at work digging trenches that would, with the addition of some six-limbed ingenuity, provide running water for the camp. Unfortunately, Gryphon didn’t use backhoes, bulldozers, or skid steers.
The lack of equipment kept everyone busy digging.
Which keeps us all out of trouble, he thought. Although things had settled considerably from those first few frantic weeks after the war ended, the freed slaves still overreacted to anything resembling pressure. Nevertheless, this camp is progressing well. I can’t speak for the other ones.
Sean knew Drake divided his most trusted men between the four separate enclaves while running patrols into the jungle to find lost slaves. The rebel forces were spread thin and were vastly outnumbered by the freed slaves. Lucky for us, these Fang slaves are too disorganized to do anything stupid.
Sean spotted movement over by the Healer tent and watched Ali emerge. The petite woman leaned against the tent pole and wiped her brow. Even from this distance, Sean could see the intricate designs running along her arms, over her shoulders, and across her chest. She must have sensed his eyes on her, for she looked toward him.
Sean’s heart raced as he raised a hand to wave. She stared at him and for a moment he didn’t think she would respond. Then she waved back before turning and disappearing back into the tent.
Feeling absurdly pleased, Sean didn’t hear the footsteps behind him until Tomas spoke. “Saying hello to your girlfriend?”
Sean sighed. “She’s not my girlfriend, and you know it.”
“That is certainly not due to lack of positive thinking.” Tomas turned to indicate the shirtless men busily digging. “How can you ignore all this scenery?”
“You never give up hope, do you?” Sean grinned, shook his head and resumed his digging.
“I’m the eternal cup-half-full kind of guy.” Tomas chose his spot and applied his shovel with gusto.
As Sean dug deeper, he kept his eye on the Healer tent. Just in case she takes another break.
KARN WIPED THE OILED CLOTH along the blade of his favorite sword. At one time, he’d taken pride in his sword’s immaculate condition. Now, every notch and scratch linked to powerful memories of battles fought and comrades slain.
Enemies too, he reminded himself. Many enemies.
After a final wipe, the big Gryph placed the sword into brackets on the wall. His private quarters consisted of a cave hollowed into the side of the valley. He’d covered the walls with items important to him.
He could have stored the sword in the valley’s communal arsenal, but somehow, over the course of the war, the sword became a part of him. Should it concern me that I feel so connected to a weapon? he thought. The war left its mark on all who were part of it. Karn used to love the trappings associated with being a warrior. When I was young, well before I discovered what it really meant to become one.
He sighed and shook his heavy mane. The walls bore traces of his life before the war: his childhood spear, his first hunting bow, an image of him and his father on a hike in the mountains, his mother and sister in the bathing pools, a sketch of his profile done by his sister, Zante.
She really is quite good, he thought. When I look at the picture, I seem so young. Yet she only sketched it four years ago.
He heard a sound at his cave’s entrance and turned. For a moment, Karn thought he imagined Zante’s presence. But as she rushed forward to hug him, he knew she was real.
He returned the hug, his heart swelling. Tiny for an adolescent Grypha, Zante stood larger than a miniGryphon, but nowhere near the size of a Grypha. Their great-grandfather had been a miniGryph, and although she continued to grow, Zante would always be small. His sister offset her lack of stature with an expansive spirit. “I am so glad to be here,” Zante trilled as she stepped back.
Karn hadn’t seen his sister for almost three years. Like many Gryphon scholars and children, Zante accompanied her elderly mentor to the mountains’ safety after the war began. Karn noticed how rich her unusual coloring had become. She shone a solid glossy black with a bright gold crest and gold stripes on her legs.
Zante fluffed her crest and tilted her head at him. “You are huge!” She reached out to pinch his bicep. “When did you get all this muscle? And this?” She traced a long scar on his chest with a small finger. Her face changed to show her distress.
“Only a scratch,” Karn said to her in their native tongue. “I have lots. I have been lucky.”
Zante’s eyes searched his. “I have missed you.” She took a step back. “It took Zartan forever to pack, and he insisted on stopping at his old quarters before coming here. All the children arrived back home long before we even left, and I did not think we would ever get here. If I never see another cavern again, I will be happy.” She glanced around. “Oh, well your cave is different, of course.”
Good old Zante. Insult first and regret later. At least some things haven’t changed. Karn rustled his neck spikes, happy. “Well, I am glad you are here. I have missed you too. And Father will be pleased to see you as well.”
Zante’s crest flattened. “How is he?”
The big Gryph’s ears flicked once. “He is well. Trying to put the war behind him, like all of us.”
“Has he decided anything?” Zante said, her voice so soft he could barely hear her.
“Not yet,” he replied, almost as softly. They were silent for a moment. Then Karn shook his mane. “Let us get out of here. I have the most fascinating people to introduce to you, particularly my good friend Michael.”
“Is that the Berserker?” Zante asked with interest as she trotted alongside him. Her strides were half the size of his, but Karn knew better than to underestimate his sister’s ability.
She is small, but she more than makes up for it in sheer determination, he thought.
“Must I be careful not to make him angry?” she asked.
“I do not think you’ll have any worries,” Karn said. “Michael is more likely to pump you for information about my childhood for future embarrassment opportunities.” He tilted his head at her. “Which, by the way, you are forbidden to share with him.”
Zante’s eyes brightened and her ears pricked up. “Oh, do not worry, brother dear. I will be on my best behavior.”
When Karn sighed, she waggled her tufted ears and snorted.
LIANNDRA AWOKE WHEN FAMILIAR STRONG arms lifted her.
Feeling warmth on her face, she squinted toward the sunny sky. It doesn’t hurt to open my eyes, she thought with relief. She closed them again and rotated her cheek into Michael’s shoulder, breathing him in. I must admit I appreciate my enhanced senses. He smells wonderful.
He carried her a short distance and settled down with his back against a tree, keeping her in his arms.
“Morning, sunshine,” he said, brushing hair out of her eyes.
“Have you kidnapped me?” Lianndra looked around. The valley bustled with the activity of a normal Gryphon day. Children played in the water, splashing and squealing.
“We have official permission to get you off your lazy butt.” He sounded cheerful, and she noticed the shadows under his eyes had vanished.
“Well, I’m not exactly off it.” When she tried to squirm out of his arms, he tightened them around her.
“Not yet,” he whispered, turning her sideways across his lap. He brushed her forehead with his lips and then trailed the top of his tongue along her lower lip before kissing her fully. It started gently but when she opened to him he groaned and pursued the kiss with a fierce desperation. The intensity melted her into a puddle in his arms. Beneath her, the heat radiated from him.
When he stopped, she looked up and saw the gold flecks in his eyes. He pulled his lips back from his teeth. “You don’t want to hear what Andrea threatened me with if I pushed you too hard.”
“Knowing Andrea, I have a pretty good idea.” She trailed her free hand up his arm and across his chest, noting he�
��d recovered some muscle.
He captured her hand and the corners of his mouth quirked. “You are going to get me in hot water. Perhaps we should start your morning exercise.”
Her hopes for what the exercise might entail were abruptly dashed as he stood and pulled her to her feet. She wobbled and clung to him as they walked. Despite his worried queries as to her health, she felt weak—not dizzy—and nothing hurt.
She had another concern that she decided to voice. “Michael, I want a bath more than anything right now.” The thought of immersing herself in blissful warm water made her want to beg. Lianndra pointed toward where the children left the pools, heading to the kitchens for their midday meal. “That way. Now!”
Michael helped her cross the clearing to the pools. By the time he lowered her into the warm water, Lianndra shook with exhaustion.
It’s worth it, she thought as she sank to her chin.
She watched Michael appreciatively as he stripped off his clothing and dumped it in a pile on the ground before sliding next to her. When he reached for the roots the Gryphon used as soap, she saw the ugly raised scar low on his ribs.
She reached to touch it, but he intercepted her, turning her around. He rubbed the soap into her hair and down her back. Lianndra sighed in bliss as his fingers worked to massage her scalp and shoulder muscles.
She reduced her hair coverage, allowing the soap to do its work against her skin.
“Okay, dunk,” Michael said, his voice controlled.
Lianndra submerged her head while he rubbed soap out of her hair. When she turned around to face him, he handed her the soap.
“You’re on your own for the rest,” he said. “There is only so much I can be expected to deal with.” He averted his eyes. “I will be here to stop you from drowning. That’s it.”
Lianndra snorted and finished cleaning up without him. Andrea’s threat must have been pretty impressive. She had her own ideas. She may be weak, but supported by the water . . .
Michael had his back to her, leaning on his folded arms against the rocks forming the edge of the pool. He watched a pair of young Gryph sparring in the near distance. Lianndra crept up behind and reached to grab him so that he wouldn’t dare pull away.
As expected, he froze, his entire body going rigid, and she discovered his thoughts had not been on the finer points of Gryphon combat training. Lianndra giggled as she trailed her lips along the bottom of his shoulder blade and upward, nibbling as she went.
The moment she released her first grab to reach higher, he spun in her arms.
“You,” he said in a distinctly hoarse voice, “are incorrigible.”
She looked into his flaring gold eyes. “Andrea isn’t the only one who can make threats to get what she wants.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. Aware there were eyes all around them, he sank low in the water. “Remember to confess if Andrea catches us.” He growled.
She shrugged. “Just don’t let me overdo it.” She trailed claws along his chest and brought them lower, following the hard ridge of his new scar, and lower still, to the path of the old one.
He made a sound between a groan and a gasp, which sent a pulse like lightning through her. His hands trailed down her back and fastened on her hips, lifting her onto him. She wrapped her arms as far around him as she could reach and buried her nose against him, nipping at the nape of his neck and breathing in his musky fragrance. He growled as the water lapped to their movements. She raised her face to his, and they muffled each other’s sounds under the seal of their lips. As their bodies merged, their minds and hearts reached for each other and intertwined, taking them higher and higher.
If home resided where the heart dwelled—they were already there.
Home.
Chapter Thirty-Six
ONCE OUT AND ABOUT, LIANNDRA rapidly regained her strength. Besides the time shared with Michael, she spent part of each day in a healing trance.
She discovered her fellow Healers had rebuilt parts of her brain to repair the damage done by the extended Darkon link. Lianndra used the reconstructed cells as a map to the areas involved in the Darkon link and worked to reinforce and improve those regions. She hoped bonding again with the little creatures would cause less injury.
She always finished the sessions by stroking the energy meridians, some of which deviated from their original path. The changes seemed functional, so Lianndra just smoothed the flow of energy.
She also worked with Kate, Olive, and Tara to help them restructure the cellular assembly of their brains; mostly a matter of growing new cells. Since she’d already worked on herself, Lianndra found it easy to guide the other Healers.
Sometimes their outdoor sessions had an audience. Although the wild Darkon had returned to the mountains, they now included the Gryphon valleys in their regular pilgrimages. They didn’t come within touching distance but often hung out in the trees and followed the Healers.
When Lianndra worked with Kate, she learned something interesting.
“The wild Darkon sat in your window the entire time we healed you,” the slim Healer told her. “They seemed concerned about you, although they wouldn’t let us touch them. Once I found two curled up next to you as you slept. They left as soon as I arrived.”
The news amazed Lianndra. She remembered seeing the two in her window, but she had no memory of the Darkon sleeping with her.
Describing this to Andrea, the tall Healer laughed. “I guess they find you irresistible,” she said. Then she refused to take part in Lianndra’s mind-bolstering sessions, saying cheerfully, “My brain is fine, thank you, and will remain so as long as you guys stay out of it.”
Lianndra meditated under the spreading branches of a massive valley tree one afternoon while the normal Gryphon daily routines bustled around her. A familiar voice called to her, and Hannah appeared from the Great Hall. Lianndra had seen little of Hannah lately because she’d been helping Drake at the slave enclaves.
She must have come in on the latest shuttle, Lianndra thought as she rose to meet her.
The ships now functioned as shuttles, carrying supplies from the Gryphon valley to the slave camps. The two Healers hugged each other and laughed at Hannah’s new braids, glittering with bits of metal gleaned from the war.
“That’s a piece of the battle cruiser you blew up,” Hannah said, proudly pointing to a small triangle of scorched metal.
Lianndra grinned. “Honestly, Hannah, you’ll put anything in your hair.”
“Well, it’s history now,” she pointed out. “Haven’t you noticed how every scrap of the ship has vanished? I’m sure chunks of it will be for sale on the alien internet.”
“Is there an alien internet?” Lianndra asked. She just wanted to forget the war. Well most of it, anyway. The last thing I want is a Fang memento. It’s bad enough to see the mess I made of the valley entrance. It will take years to recover. The Darkon’s power scoured it down to bedrock.
They settled themselves under the big tree and soaked in the peace of the valley—peace of mind, good friends, good health and a sense of belonging. Balance.
Lianndra sighed. Perhaps you don’t appreciate it until it’s taken from you. She let the sensation penetrate deep into her soul. She didn’t think she could ever get enough.
It seemed Hannah wanted to compare notes. “How’s Michael? I haven’t seen him since the last meeting, although I’m sure Drake has found him by now. We’re only in for a day since we’re due back soon to help with the new settlements.”
Lianndra smiled, even blushed a little. “He’s great. Andrea has put us on a regimen for getting our fitness up to snuff. She has to use threats to keep us going because we’re basically lazy types.”
“Have you guys figured out his claw thing?”
“What claw thing?”
Hannah’s face flushed. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I know you guys have been busy. I assumed you had time to talk about what happened to him during the war.”
“What are you t
alking about?”
“During the last couple of battles, Drake noticed Michael grew claws. Yet afterward, his fingertips were normal human ones.” Hannah’s tone sounded apologetic, like she fervently wished she hadn’t brought it up at all. “Drake just thought it a little odd. I mean, our claws are permanent features. He wondered if Michael is still . . . evolving.”
The revelation surprised Lianndra. Michael had said nothing to her. He doesn’t talk about his Berserker changes. They embarrass him. He might not understand that the claws shouldn’t come and go like that.
“He hasn’t mentioned it yet,” Lianndra said. “I’ll check it out. It sounds interesting. I want to poke around within him anyway, to see how my blood changed him on a genetic level. He gets uncomfortable when I talk about his changes, so I’ll have to pin him down.”
“I’m sorry, Lianndra. As usual, I didn’t think before I spoke.”
“It’s okay, Hannah. We’ve been in recovery mode. It’s time we moved on.” She shifted her legs around. “Now, speaking of moving on, let me show you the changes we’ve made to better communicate with our Darkon buddies.”
The Healers sat in Lotus positions facing each other. We did this so often during our time as slaves in the FHR division, I wonder if I’ll ever be able to meditate without it reminding me of those days, Lianndra thought. She noticed her friend still seemed a little pensive. “Are you okay, Hannah? Really, I mean it—It’s no problem. I’ll ask Michael about it later.”
Hannah looked up and smiled, a smile so brilliant it startled Lianndra. Then the smile vanished as suddenly as it appeared, and the redheaded Healer looked slightly nervous.
“What’s going on?”
The smaller Healer hesitated. “I need your help with something. Can you humor me and just follow my lead for a moment? It won’t take long—I just need a second opinion.”
Puzzled and a little alarmed, Lianndra nodded. Hannah extended her hands and grasped Lianndra’s. They closed their eyes and went within. Lianndra let Hannah take the lead, following the warmth of her presence through their linked hands and further into her body.
