“It is not your lover you do not trust, it is yourself,” a voice said, and she turned her head to see the woman who had greeted them earlier. “He has played a role for you, allowing you to see that which you have hidden from yourself. In this place, you have the freedom to acknowledge that and to truly see yourself. Will you acknowledge what you have not been willing to see?”
“I don’t trust you. You hurt me.” The words echoed through the air, and she felt a sort of desperation. She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “No. Please. No.”
The woman inclined her head. “As you wish. Remember only that which you are willing to accept.”
Tamara woke with a start, the baby kicking her in the ribs, a fluttery sensation that hurt. She gasped and looked up. Darra sat cross-legged at the edge of the table. On the other side, Merran knelt, his eyes downcast. He was open, and there was a calm to him Tamara had not seen or felt in a long time—not since she’d first met him, before her Awakening. He leaned over a piece of paper and signed it, then slid the paper across the table to Tamara.
She looked down. It was a perfectly ordinary birth certificate, although it was a little more intricate than the human ones she’d seen. The line with the baby’s name was blank. Underneath it, under the father’s name it read, Merran Liporinn Corina, son of Jarid Memaxthal Corina and Pelera Liporinn, born in Azorantxl, at half past six in the morning, on day 125 of Arrival Year 1163. The second line asked for her information. Tamara picked up the pen and signed her name. She filled out her father’s full name and her mother’s, then stopped. “I don’t know where I was born,” she said, remembering the false birth certificate on Earth.
Darra extended a hand and showed her a birth certificate, except this one had her name under “baby’s name.” Tamara Dorvath Carrington, it read, daughter of Jasmian Mennak Dorvath and Peter Robert Carrington. She ignored the grandparental information and studied the signature of the woman she’d never met. Jasmian’s handwriting was beautiful and flowing, and Tamara continued to stare at it. She’d been born in Uzorantxl, at 10:00 in the morning on day 45 of Arrival Year 1175. She finally filled in the rest of her information on the birth certificate and sat back.
“What is her name?” Darra asked, breaking the silence.
Tamara looked surprised. “We haven’t come up with one,” she said, glancing at Merran.
Merran shifted on his cushion. “Have you asked her yet?”
“Asked her?” Tamara frowned at Merran.
“She knows who she is,” Darra replied for him. “It is customary that the mother meditate and ask the unborn her name. The father,” she glanced at Merran, “may and usually does participate in the cases when the father is known. His participation helps the unborn know that she will be honored when she arrives.”
Merran shifted again on his cushion. “This father is going to be unknown to his daughter until later.”
Darra gave him a steady look. “Then why have you touched her?”
Merran glanced at Tamara. “Because I don’t want to be completely out of the picture, just not the father she knows. Alarin Raderth will be that.”
Darra fell silent, then continued with a short nod, “Alarin Raderth will perform the overt function of father, then,” she said, spreading her hands. “She will return to Azelle when she is ready to be trained and Awakened. She will be raised Raderth, not Corina, and she will be known as Raderth until she chooses to know her true name.” She lowered her hands and looked at Tamara steadily. “You will contact us when you know her name?”
Tamara nodded, not sure what she was being asked to do, but not willing to question it either. She looked back at the signature line of the woman she’d never met and found herself wondering if her mother had asked her name before she was born.
Darra’s voice pulled her back to the present. “You have bound yourself to Azelle, daughter of Earth, and it has welcomed you. So will your daughter be when she reaches the necessary age. Take what you will of this visit back with you.” She gave Tamara a long, steady look. It confused her, but again, she didn’t feel the urge to question. “You may return to seek those who are lost to you,” she said after a moment. “When you are ready. Now go and return with the name of your unborn.”
Merran got to his feet and helped Tamara to hers. He bowed to the Keeper and Tamara did likewise.
The feeling of peace and calm lingered for a little longer after they’d left the strange cavern that was the Temple. It remained with her, in fact, most of the evening and into the night, even as she lay in Alarin’s arms, helping to mitigate the nagging feeling that there was something she might have explored, if she’d been more willing to open to the guidance the aarya had shown her. As she lay restlessly on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what she had missed, a strange feeling crept through her, an odd knowing that whispered that she’d get another chance. Comforted, she fell asleep.
She drifted into the strangest dream, a dream about a dark-haired, beautiful young woman who looked like a female version of Merran. She woke with a name on her lips. “Rashella,” she said, sitting up.
Alarin groaned. “Tam?” he asked, blinking at her sleepily. “What’s going on?”
“Rashella. Her name is Rashella. I just dreamed about my baby as a young woman, and she told me her name is Rashella.”
Alarin shifted and rested his hand on her abdomen. He was silent as he listened. “You’re right.” He slipped his hand around the swell of her stomach. “We’ll tell the Keepers in the morning.”
She settled back, cuddling up against him. Tamara felt wide awake for some reason, so she twisted. Alarin didn’t seem sleepy either. “Alarin?”
“Hmmm?” he murmured, his hand stroking lightly over her belly.
“What time is it?” she asked, looking around the room for a clock. Charina had given up her room for the two of them, she and Merran sharing the floor in the living room. Nothing in the room resembled a clock.
“Early.” He slid his fingers over her hipbones and down her leg. He moved against her, and she felt him press against her lower back. “Dawn or a little before.”
“How do you know?” She tried to ignore the pressure of his erection against her lower back.
“If you listen, the animals will tell you.” His hand wandered down her stomach.
Her breath caught as his fingers slid between her legs. She put her hand on his forearm. “Alarin,” she gasped.
“Everyone’s asleep,” he murmured into her hair. “Even Rashella.” He rubbed himself against her, leaning over to kiss her neck. Tamara shivered and made a sound low in her throat. It had been awhile since they’d been able to do anything—Rashella’s level of alertness was too much for Alarin most of the time, and the little rascal had taken to sleeping when Alarin wasn’t there, waking up almost immediately when he returned, her hungry little mind seeking constantly. She may have caught a nap or two when they both slept, but her restlessness lately had been such that Tamara wondered if she slept at all anymore. Tamara felt distinctly odd about doing anything in this house full of psi users, but if she said no now, they weren’t likely to get another chance—that is, if Rashella even let them have this opportunity.
She did, remaining asleep as Alarin teased her mother, aggressively arousing Tamara, sliding into her mind so fiercely he nearly sent her over the edge without his body’s additional stimulation. She managed not to cry out, holding her breath as his fingers, body, and mind drove her to explosive release, feeling his body shudder as he pulsed inside her, groaning softly as he found his own release. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her as their breath slowly came back to normal.
“God. It’s been like forever,” she whispered.
She could feel his chuckle as he hugged her tighter. “It will get worse the closer to her birth we get, then you’ll need to heal and we’ll both be too damned tired to do anything until she hits her teen years.”
Tamara shifted and turned to look at him. “You�
��re kidding, right?”
She could see him in the faint light from the window and from the soft light of his aura. He grinned and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. He kissed her. “Of course.”
She stared down at herself and sighed. “By then, I’ll be so fat you’ll be glad to find it somewhere else.”
He hushed her with a kiss. “You are pregnant, love, not fat. And it truly doesn’t matter to me what you look like.”
Tamara gave him a look. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
He leaned over and kissed her stomach. “Nope. Not at all. You’re stuck with me, you realize.”
“Oh, I don’t know how I’ll survive,” Tamara replied, snuggling closer. “How did your meeting with your family go, by the way?”
He cuddled her close. “I don’t think my mother will be attending the wedding,” he said softly, and she could feel the echo of pain in him. “But surprisingly, Father was openly supportive. We won’t have any trouble with my family. Father pretty much said our wedding was necessary and ended all the arguments. Mother wasn’t happy, but she doesn’t interfere when it comes to Father’s foresight.” Alarin sighed and tucked her closer, hugging her against his body. “He wants to attend the wedding. Are you okay with that?”
She twisted her head to look up at him. “Of course,” she said. “I hope he does.”
“My sister may come as well.”
Tamara smiled. “She’s welcome too. Will I get to meet her? Them?”
Alarin kissed the side of her neck. “Kyla’s up north working the hot springs this week, so probably not. Mother, you don’t want to meet, and that means you will not meet Father either. Their relationship is a little … odd. He backed me, and privately prevented Mother and Grandfather from interfering, but he won’t do anything here in Azorantxl to overtly show that he disagrees with Mother. Since he is going to come to the wedding, you’ll meet him then. While we’re here, Justy and I can show you all the sites where we used to hang out and tell you lots of stories about the old days. Then we’ll go home knowing that we have Father’s blessing.”
She could feel his relief at having his father’s blessing—it had been more important to him than he’d let show—and though she didn’t fully understand the dynamic between his mother and father, she accepted that it was there and fell asleep cuddled up against Alarin, wrapped in his warmth and ready to enjoy what he could share with her.
Chapter 11
A little more than two months after the trip to Azelle, Merran sat at the oceanside listening to the soft slap of waves on the beach. The peace he’d discovered at the Temple during his and Tamara’s visit to register their daughter’s conception and to introduce Rashella to the aarya had lingered, bringing the most profound sense of well-being Merran had ever known. It had carried him through the tricky coordination of the wedding between Alarin and Tamara, now only twenty-four hours away, and was enabling him to relax before the whirlwind began.
“Can I join you?” a voice asked, and Merran looked up to see Idara walking across the warm sand toward him, emerging from a hut. She wore a see-through cover-up over a sleek white bathing suit, her long hair flowing loose over her shoulders and back.
Merran nodded and moved over on the towel he’d spread out. Idara settled herself down on the towel, pulling her knees up against her chest. “This is the most beautiful place I have ever experienced,” she said, as she looked out at the waves. “Where did you find it?”
“The embassy does quite a bit of business with the people who own this island,” he said, looking out at the ocean surf. “Many of our staff use the island as a vacation getaway, since it’s a privately owned island and the tourism is not nearly as crazy as Hawaii next door.”
“If Azelle had any locations like this …” Idara trailed off.
“It would be a different planet,” Merran replied, smiling a little. He stretched his legs out in front of him and looked over at her. “Sleep well last night?”
“Of course, especially after our nightcap.” She looked over at him, a touch of concern apparent in her dark eyes. “You sure that Alari and Tamara will be all right with you inviting me?”
“Yes, I got clearance from both of them. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to get the time off, though.”
Idara smiled and tossed her head. “There’s a photo shoot in Hawaii the day after tomorrow. It wasn’t as difficult as I feared it might be to get a few days away to spend with friends.” She gave him a flirtatious look from under her lashes. “And to enjoy a night or two of pleasure, as well, of course.”
Merran shifted. Over the past several months, his relationship with Idara had settled into something eminently pleasurable for both of them. Their interactions had become mutually satisfying sexual encounters punctuated by occasional phone chats about nothing in particular. Idara provided him with the perfect smokescreen, playing up the girlfriend when necessary, staying out of his life when he didn’t want it. “You got the photo shoot? With Expanded Vision? Congratulations.”
Idara’s smile was brilliant. “Thanks to you and the contacts you’ve brought me. One of these days, I’ll be able to see myself on the cover of a big fashion magazine.”
“I don’t doubt it for a minute.” They both heard the sound of a plane approaching, the low putt-putt of the prop engine loud above them, beginning the process of bringing people in from where they’d laid over after their journey from Azelle—first to the spaceport in Denver, then to Hawaii, and finally to this tiny island that was the venue for the wedding. “That’s my cue,” he said, getting to his feet. “The Azellian contingent arrives today, and I get to welcome them all and make sure they’re settled into their accommodations appropriately for their status.”
“I’ll see you later tonight, then?”
Merran reached out and gave her a gentle kiss, pulling her in briefly against his body. “Yes,” he said, letting his hands run lightly over her curves, then he released her. “Until tonight.” He watched as Idara made her way down the beach, already looking like the supermodel she almost was. He turned and, smiling to himself, strode down toward the small airport, which was hardly more than a landing strip on the north side of the island.
As he walked, he mused over the changes these past few months. His trip to the Temple had brought him many things, peace being only one of them. His total acceptance of himself, as symbolized by his ability to embrace his inner child during the Temple vision, had dissolved the uncomfortable pressure of Tamara’s need for him to be someone he was not, and their relationship had settled into something pleasant and caring, untinged by any lingering sexual desires. He loved Tamara, as he loved their unborn daughter, but the love was very different from anything he’d ever felt for anyone before. It was easy, effortless, and untinged by possession, greed, or any of the usual components he’d always associated with romantic love. Greg is right, he thought to himself. I love her. I love her, but I also know we would never make a good couple, so I can let her go freely, without reservation. How wonderful that feels. Will I ever find someone who will be my mate? he considered briefly, his feet pressing into the spongy grass as he walked. After his experience at the Temple, his resistance to the idea had dissolved. It would be nice to find someone I care about in the way Alarin and Tamara care about each other, but I really am okay if I never do.
Ketiana joined him as he came toward the single building that served as a welcome hut. “Ready for the hordes to descend?” she asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I think we have more dignitaries coming to this wedding than we do ordinary people.”
Merran smiled. “Yes, we do have a few Council members, including Galadrian. A few Healers, including Alarin’s sister Kyla. A former Keeper. Speaking of our former Keeper, has Jamie made it back from Dorbin yet?”
Ketiana nodded at the landing strip. “He even brings with him a wedding gift from the Dorbin to you—some of those plants the Healers want.”
“A wedding gift? For me? I’m not getting m
arried. And Alarin and Tamara hardly need psi-active plants that can help Healers.”
Ketiana grinned at him. “All right fine, it’s not a wedding gift. But yes, Jamie is here with those plants you want. How are you taking it, by the way?”
“Taking what? Alarin and Tamara’s wedding? I’m happy for them, of course.”
“No lingering regrets?”
Merran shook his head. “None. I’m truly happy for them and pleased with my role in their life.”
“You sound very … balanced.”
“I spent a little time at the Temple when I went back to Azelle. The effect lingers.”
Ketiana smiled. “It shows. I’m glad to see you’ve found your footing again. It’s good to have you back, Ambassador.”
“It’s good to be back.” Merran smiled at her warmly. “Let’s go greet the arriving hordes and get this dignitary-studded wedding moving forward.”
The morning of the wedding dawned beautiful and warm, accompanied by the tropical breezes of the ocean island that were always pleasant. Tamara woke to the smell of sand and fish—part of the unique smell of the ocean. It had made her rather nauseous at first, but she’d gotten used to it. Alarin had chosen to sleep elsewhere the previous night, as a nod to the traditional Earth manner of bride and groom being apart the night before their wedding. Tamara herself had argued, considering her extremely pregnant state, but he’d gotten it into his head that it was honoring her father and family to do so. Reluctantly, she’d finally given in.
Somehow, Merran had managed to get all one hundred and fifty wedding guests to the island—Tamara didn’t want to think about the expense it had cost Merran to ferry that many people to a tiny island off the coast of Hawaii. Several extra huts had been thrown up to house the influx of people, and most of the guests were cheerful enough about their accommodations. She maneuvered herself out of bed, lumbering over to the bathroom and pulling a large muumuu over her head. She didn’t bother with underwear—it was too warm. Getting dressed had become quite a challenge these days with little Rashella growing so large Tamara seriously wondered how far her body could stretch before the skin split and the baby popped out. Except for the fact it sounded painful she would have welcomed something like that. Rashella had gotten so restless lately that some of the baby’s vigorous kicking woke Alarin, too, even as they bruised internal organs and her mother’s ribs. Tamara was anxious for the baby to be born and the physical discomfort of the pregnancy to end.
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