B00CH3ARG0 EBOK

by Christie Meierz

  “Yes, my love,” he said. “My body is younger. The Jorann gave me her blessing as part of the ritual. It makes us young again.”

  “I look too old for you now...”

  He chuckled. “No. We do not count such things. When one is of age, appearance is not important.”

  “It’s—”

  The door opened. Marianne walked in, carrying a tablet, which she offered to the Paran.

  “This is all the information we have on humans,” she said. “Everything you’ll need, including the complete medical archive from the Alexander and detailed specifications on the food supplements for Laura. The Sural copied my library onto it too, which includes a lot of poetry that you might enjoy. Not all of it is in English, but a great deal of it is. And there’s a copy of the music archive from the Alexander as well.”

  “You honor me, dear one,” he murmured, and bowed. “My gratitude.”

  Marianne turned to Laura to give her a warm hug. “Call me,” she said. “A lot. I’m going to miss you.” She looked over at the Paran. “You’ll give her a tablet that can communicate with mine?”

  “Of course.”

  She sighed as she let Laura go. “This is so sudden.”

  “Yes,” Laura replied. “Yes it is. But ... I need to be away from seeing the Sural every day.”

  Marianne’s face filled with sympathy. “I understand,” she said.

  “My love, we must leave,” the Paran said.

  “Do you have everything?” Marianne asked.

  Laura smiled, feeling rueful. “It’s not like I have much. The food scanner, the drawing I made of K– the Paran yesterday, the clothes I was wearing when I arrived. That’s all I have.”

  She sighed and headed for the door. Marianne joined her, the Paran following. In the corridor, the Sural waited, and Laura noticed the two rulers give each other a significant glance.

  “It is extraordinary, is it not?” the Sural said as they all walked toward the stronghold entrance.

  The Paran’s eyes almost glowed. “I cannot conceive why some do not want to be bonded to their people.” He shook his head.

  “It has its disadvantages. To some, they outweigh the advantages.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I have more reason than most to leave my province, and I have spent more time away than I would wish. It is quite unpleasant, but even so I would not have it otherwise.”

  The Sural pressed the panel near the great doors that opened the wall into the transit room. Laura eyed the long-distance transport pod in the center of the room, crystal and ovoid and some five meters in length, hovering over one of the two dark shafts in the floor.

  “Watch that first drop,” Marianne said. “It’s a doozy.”

  Laura laughed. “Thanks for the warning.”

  “No one warned me.” Marianne glowered at the Sural, who spread his hands apologetically.

  The Paran led Laura to the pod. She drew a sharp breath, grinning, when it formed a door at his touch, and followed him into it. A divan graced each side of the pod’s middle, and cushions and blankets occupied the rear. When servants placed their few belongings near one of the divans, the crystal flowed up to grasp and hold the small collection of items in place.

  Laura turned, waved to Marianne and the Sural, and gasped again as the Paran closed the pod behind her and a control panel emerged from its front wall. He put one arm around her, placed the other hand on the controls ... and the pod dropped at high speed into the dark shaft.

  * * *

  With a sigh, Marianne turned toward the corridor.

  “I envy him,” the Sural said, as the walls closed behind them.

  Her eyes felt like they nearly popped out of her head. “You? Envy? What?”

  “He is free to share her wonder at these new experiences. It was necessary for me to ... surreptitiously ... share what I could of yours.”

  “Forgive me,” she said, feeling a little guilty. “I wish I’d known how you felt about me the day you showed me the transport pods.”

  “It would have frightened you to know.”

  She had to admit the truth of that. “Forgive me,” she repeated.

  He smiled warmly at her. “I regret nothing. It was worth it to be yours now.” He shook his head and came back to the present. “Have you seen all the Paranian art?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Allow me to point out the exhibits I find most appealing.”

  She grinned up at him. “I’d like that.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Marianne strolled along a meandering path in the gardens, the Sural beside her. No, she thought, she wasn’t strolling. She was waddling like a proverbial duck. At least her pregnancy would be over soon. Maybe ten days left. Or so said Cena.

  “Your daughter,” the Sural announced, “is probing me.”

  She halted and looked down at her swollen belly. “That’s rude. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to probe a high one?”

  He eyed her, one brow furled and the other halfway up his forehead. “Perhaps you—”

  “I know, I know. Sleep deprivation distorts my sense of humor.” She sighed and reached into herself, along her parental bond, and reined in her baby’s innocent but intrusive empathic exploration. “I’m grateful she sleeps as much as she does. I wish she’d do more of it at night.”

  “Soon, beloved.”

  “Easily said.” She resumed her stroll, penguin-like. “You don’t have her sitting like a bowling ball in your center of gravity or try to sleep while she attempts to kick your kidneys into next year.”

  He made a sound suspiciously like he was coughing to cover a laugh. She peered up at him, narrowing her eyes. He was good at masking amusement from her, but—

  “I might point out,” he said, in an obvious attempt to interrupt her thought and distract her, “your preferred sleeping position ensures that your daughter also kicks me.”

  She grumbled. “Good!”

  His arm draped around her shoulders. “Be at peace, my heart. I feel your discomfort.”

  * * *

  It was time – past time – to journey to warm waters. The seas were already cooling as the sun weakened and the days grew shorter, but at least food was still plentiful. [serenity dives deep] used the ridges on her head to scrape plants from their rocky underwater moorings and sucked them into her mouth. [bold searches] grazed beside her, giving an occasional soft caress of a flipper to let her know of his affection.

  As she crunched her food plants, the big male indicated he was discontented. Desire to leave. Urgency. Anticipation of cold. Need for warm seas.

  Need. She pictured to him the beacon of grief she had sensed among the tiny land creatures. Need.

  Frustration. Fear for [new life yet to breathe].

  She rolled and rubbed her back against his side, soothing her mate. Care. Safety.

  [bold searches] rumbled an acquiescence and headed for the surface, intending to breach for air. [serenity dives deep] swallowed her mouthful of plants and rose with him, blowing bubbles to caress him as he ascended.

  * * *

  Afternoon sunlight in Parania was warm and golden and perfect for drawing. Laura sat cross-legged on a low wall with a small sketchbook and a charcoal stylus, hastily outlining a flower. The play of light and shadow on the tiny blossom wouldn’t last long. She’d remember it in any case – her memory worked like that – but it was always better to have the model in front of her.

  A shadow fell over it. “Gah! You’re in my light! You’re—” She peered up. It was the Paran, a broad smile on his face. “Oh. Shouldn’t you be closeted with your guest from Brialar, scheming and planning and plotting his overthrow or something?”

  He chuckled and took a seat on the wall beside her. “The heir to Brialar is a cunning negotiator, in truth, but even the most avid diplomat requires time to rest.” He planted a kiss on her temple. “I have interrupted your art. Forgive me.”

  “That’s all right,” she said, closing the book and set
ting it aside with the stylus. With a grimace, she uncrossed her legs to stretch the aches out of them. God it would be nice to be young again.

  “You are thinking about the Jorann’s blessing.”

  A sigh escaped her before she could stop it. It was unnerving how the Paran responded to things she hadn’t said, and he did it much more than the Sural or Marianne ever had. And after the — almost three months? — she had lived in his stronghold, he wasn’t often wrong.

  “It’s time,” she said. “I’ve certainly been thinking about it long enough.”

  He took her hands in his. “It would give me joy to know we had a lifespan to be together.”

  “Me too,” she whispered, smiling. “I know I waited a long time to make the decision, but I needed to be sure I was adding 300 happy years to my life. Three hundred years of loneliness wasn’t very appealing.”

  His mouth twitched. “Your dread of eating the same food for ninety Earth years seems to have been a significant consideration as well.”

  She sputtered a laugh. “There is that. I don’t know how Marianne did it for eight years. After two months in Suralia and three months here, I’m ready to pitch it all into the sea.”

  He laughed. “Is the Marann well?”

  “Don’t you know? I thought you would be monitoring my calls. The Sural certainly does.”

  “The Sural lives because he trusts no one,” the Paran said in a dry voice. “Will you return to Suralia soon, then?”

  “Cena told Marianne the baby will come in the next ten days. I said I’d need to talk to you. How about if I leave tomorrow?”

  He nodded. “I will make arrangements for a servant to accompany you and guide your transport pod.”

  * * *

  [serenity dives deep] rested just outside the wide bay along which a large population of the land creatures clustered. The one that was a flare of sorrow went about its incomprehensible activity, unaware of her. Carefully, she touched it with a probe.

  Desire for tranquility in the deeps.

  She sensed the little creature go still. After a few slow heartbeats, it continued on its way, the need she had planted sinking deep into its heart. Satisfied, she turned away and set about to wait.

  * * *

  Since Parania and Suralia were on opposite sides of the planet, Laura left Parania in late morning, traveled for something more than a quarter of a day, and arrived in Suralia ... in time for the morning meal. She wasn’t sure if it was yesterday, tomorrow, or three hours ago. Thinking about it made her head ache.

  “I don’t miss this,” she said, picking at a grain roll.

  Marianne laughed and tried, unsuccessfully, to eat without dropping crumbs on her robe. She flicked them off a belly that stuck out like a shelf. “I thought you liked spicy food.”

  “I do, but it’s been about three months since I left and the bread in Parania only has a little bit of a bite. I’m not used to this five-alarm fire stuff anymore.”

  Marianne’s laugh turned to a cackle. Kyza, sitting across the table in her customary place at her father’s right hand, giggled. Beside her, Thela had her brows drawn together.

  “What is ‘five-alarm fire stuff’?” the young musician asked.

  “It’s a— Thela! You understand me?”

  “I am learning English. Father said I will need it when the humans come back.”

  “That could be. You speak so well for studying so short a time! We should talk again later, when you’re done with your studies and your practicing.”

  Thela grinned. “I will like that.”

  Laura cocked an eyebrow at Marianne – a gesture she’d learned from the Paran – and chased a bite of roll with a healthy gulp of tea. “As I was saying, Parania has more foods I can eat than Suralia does.”

  “Lucky!” Marianne shot a discontented look at the Sural, who affected not to notice. “How many?”

  “An even two dozen. Some grains, some fruit, like here, but also some vegetables, which is nice. The cooks came up with a couple of soups using only the ones I can eat. They’re good.”

  “Lucky.”

  “You’re in a mood,” Laura remarked, turning to peer at her friend.

  “I’m always in a mood. Baby tap dances on my ribs all night and bounces on my bladder all day. I can’t get any rest.”

  Laura chuckled. “How well I remember. I know you don’t want to hear this, but ... it’ll be over soon. And then the real sleep deprivation starts.”

  “Ha! You’re a great help.”

  “You are very content,” the Sural broke in, giving Laura a smile. “The Paran treats you well.”

  Laura’s face heated. “He’s been wonderful.”

  “What then are you hiding?” he asked, cocking his head.

  Laura sputtered a laugh. “You Tolari!” she exclaimed. “All right, all right. I was just going to wait to tell you until I’d settled in, that’s all.”

  “Wait to tell us what?” asked Marianne.

  She took a breath. “I want to take the Jorann’s blessing.”

  A huge grin burst onto Marianne’s face. “It’s about time! What made you finally decide to go ahead with it?”

  Laura lowered her voice. “With the Paran I – well, 300 years doesn’t seem like an eternity anymore, if I can be with him.”

  “That’s wonderful, Laura. I’m so happy for you! But why did you come here for it? You could have taken the blessing there, in Parania.”

  Laura glanced at the Sural. “The Paran said his own apothecary could have given it to me, but he thought it would be best if your apothecary did, since she has so much more experience of humans.”

  “Reasonable,” he said.

  “So if I could do that whenever it’s convenient for her while I’m here?”

  Marianne leaned back in her chair. “I think as soon as possible would be best, even today, if Cena has the time. Then she’ll have the rest of the visit to monitor you before you go back to Parania.”

  The Sural nodded. “I agree.” He rose to help Marianne push her chair back from the table and stand.

  “I’m going to see her for my morning examination anyway. Let’s see if she’s busy.”

  “Well,” Laura said, feeling a little tentative, “if you’re sure it’s not too sudden?”

  “Come on. She’ll be happy to see you even if she is too busy.”

  A nervous smile played on her lips. Why not? “All right.”

  * * *

  “She looks like a young woman again,” said Marianne, easing herself into a chair in the apothecary’s quarters late that evening.

  Laura lay unconscious on a bed in one of the treatment rooms. Cena, midway through her own pregnancy, hovered over her with her scanner. “By our standards, she has never been more than a young woman,” she said. She turned her scanner on Marianne. Her eyebrows lifted as she read the results. “Your body is preparing for birth, high one. The process will very likely begin in the night, or tomorrow in the morning at the latest. It may even be beginning now.”

  “Good.” Marianne let her voice reflect her fatigue. She glanced at Laura. “The timing is a little inconvenient, but maybe after it’s over I’ll be able to get some sleep. My daughter kicked the Sural right off my sleeping mat last night.”

  Cena stifled a snort of amusement.

  “He said I should name her Sfyra,” she continued. “It means ‘she who kicks’ in Old Tolari. But I’m still thinking about naming her Rose, after my mother.”

  “I have not yet given much thought to a name for my son.”

  “He’s beginning to look like Storaas, at least on the fetal scans you’ve shown me.”

  Cena looked away, busying herself by taking out her medical scanner and running it over Laura’s prone body. “I thought I could revive his interest in life,” she said in a low voice, “but he has seen too much and lived too long. I spend all the time I can with him – I do not know how much he has left.”

  “Maybe he should talk to the Jorann. She’s
thousands of years old, and she hasn’t gotten tired of living yet.”

  “There is merit to that idea—”

  A sound interrupted her: Laura beginning to stir and open her eyes.

  Cena was instantly attentive. “Are you in discomfort?” she asked, giving Laura the penetrating look Marianne knew indicated that she was probing.

  Laura glanced at Cena. “No. Well, maybe ...” she whispered. “You have such grief. Oh, Cena. I’m so sorry.”

  Cena’s eyes widened, and then narrowed. “Laura,” she said, her voice heavy with disapproval. “You must never reveal others in this manner.”

  Laura put her hands over her forehead and squeezed her eyes shut. There was a long pause. “It’s too much,” she said, breathing hard. “It’s too much.”

  “What’s the matter with her?” Marianne asked in a low voice. “It wasn’t like that for me. Is it because she was sensitive for a human?”

  “Possible,” Cena murmured. “It is like a delirium, but there is a quality to her presence now that—” She turned to Marianne. “Are you not reminded of the Jorann?” She signaled a servant. “Request the Sural.”

  Laura opened her eyes again, only to have her attention caught by her own arms. She brought her hands down from her forehead, looked at them, and turned them over. Then she felt her face with her fingers. “Do you have a mirror?” she asked. She held the small glass Cena gave her above her face. “I haven’t looked like this in thirty-five years!”

  The door opened, and the Sural entered the room. Laura gasped, the mirror dropping from her hand to the bed and sliding off to shatter on the floor.

  “Apothecary?” he asked.

  Laura’s voice was a whisper. “He’s so proud of you.”

  The Sural stopped, his eyebrows flying up.

  “Laura, you must stop this.” Cena ordered.

  “I see why you requested me,” the Sural said dryly.

  Marianne remained silent, watching, while her bond-partner clasped his hands behind his back and went to Laura’s bedside.

  “You’re an open book,” Laura said.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  She threw her arms over her forehead. “It’s too much!”