by Dara Joy
The path of thought disturbed him on many levels, so as was his wont, he squelched it.
“She was exhausted.” Gian covered her with his cloak.
“Is she your tajan, Gian?” Traed asked bluntly.
“I have said so, have I not?”
“I know you were captured on Ganakari—I saw your physical path.”
Gian was impressed with Traed’s ability. “I did not know you possessed the Sight, Traed.”
A small, ironic smile curved the dark-haired man’s chiseled lips. “No, not many do. I revealed myself to the Guild to save Rejar.”
Gian sat up. “Rejar has been found?”
“Yes.” Traed filled him in on the story. “And he brought back a non-Familiar mate, Gian.”
Gian had to hold back his laughter so as not to waken Jenise. “Rejar always did have to be first when it came to blazing new paths.”
“True,” Traed agreed as he thought of his capricious brother-of-the-line. He was sure the half-Familiar was not having an easy time of Yaniff’s lessons. The few he had taken as a youth were enough to tell him that someone like Rejar must be tugging at the harness. Traed’s eyes gleamed as he pictured how Lorgin must be mercilessly teasing him.
“So you have saved Rejar as well. I owe you much, Traed.”
The Aviaran bristled. “You owe me nothing.” Traed did not like to owe or be owed. Such was his nature.
“Nonetheless…” Gian stated firmly.
A dull bronze colored Traed’s high cheekbones. “How did you get free on Ganakari?”
“Jenise helped me to escape.”
“It had to be more complicated than that.”
“It always is. She is not Ganakari; she is Frensi.”
“Frensi?” Traed looked over at her speculatively.
“What is it?”
“Do you know anything about the Frensi?”
“Not much. Just that they are a nomadic people.”
“There were some Frensi on Zarrain where I lived. They are a passionate people.”
A very male smile crossed Gian’s face but he said nothing.
“Ah.” Traed could just imagine. “Has she danced for you?”
“What do you mean?”
“You would not have to ask if she had. They say a Frensi female has one special dance in her and she performs it only once in her life for one person. It is rumored to be a mystical, beauteous thing. She uses no words, just movements, to resonate with the soul of the watcher. The dance depicts the image of pure love. Once seen, the one who has witnessed it is forever moved.”
Gian was stunned. He gazed at her as she lay sleeping. “I did not know,” he murmured.
Traed switched the subject away from love and devotion, wondering what had ever made him bring that up. It was unlike him. “The Guild is most anxious to see you.”
“And I them. We have much to discuss. The Familiars are in grave danger, Traed. I will call in every favor owed us by the Charl.”
Traed raised his eyebrows. For Gian to say such a thing, it was serious indeed. “I will get you and your tajan safely to Aviara, Gian.”
“Of that I have no doubt. Yaniff has sent only the best to me, for which I am grateful.”
Traed inclined his head at the words of praise coming from a man he respected.
“Let us get some rest. I have the feeling our journey will not be a peaceful one.”
“True. We must deal with these fierce Wee-chukchuks.” Traed paused, saying in his usual bland way, “Perhaps they will like your tasty smell, Gian.”
Gian arched his brow. “Why should they be an exception? It appears everyone else does.”
Traed snorted.
Both men lay down on the cushions to get a brief rest.
The following night when the moon rose, Ogga led the group around the back of the cottage.
A low, raftlike platform rested there on rails. In the center of the platform were two waist-high poles with crossbars. Ogga motioned for Gian and Traed to stand at the poles while Jenise and Gruntel sat at their feet, facing forward.
“He get Wee-chukchuk now,” Gruntel informed them. “Hope they like. Very fierce.”
Gian and Traed nodded seriously.
Loud barking sounds came from behind the shed. By the sound of it, Ogga had his hands full. The two men prepared for the battle of wills that was sure to ensue.
Ogga rounded the corner.
Leading him were eight tube-shaped animals with fluffy heads, lolling tongues, wide paws, and wagging double tails. They stood only one-and-a-half hands high. Gian’s and Traed’s eyes both widened incredulously but neither man said anything. Out loud. Both, however, were thinking the same thought: This is the fierce beast?
Ogga hitched up the Wee-chukchuks and climbed onto the platform. He waited anxiously.
At first the Wee-chukchuks did nothing but fuss around, checking everything out. Ogga seemed nervous.
Then as one they lifted their round noses in the air and tested the scent. At the same time, they all turned their heads and stared at Gian.
The Familiar narrowed his eyes at them.
Eight Wee-chukchuks broke into actual little grins, their smiling mouths showing their little white teeth. Then they faced forward and began to pull the platform.
“We go now!” Gruntel shouted happily.
They went. At a zorph’s pace.
Sometime later they still hadn’t cleared the front yard.
Gian’s mouth twitched. The absurdity of the situation got to him. He was trying desperately not to laugh. Jenise began giggling into her cloak. Traed blinked and stared off to the right. A suspicious snort came from his direction.
Gian pinched the bridge of his nose. {What are we doing?} he asked anyone who would listen. The platform barely crawled onto the main pathway.
Traed turned to him and said quite seriously, “We are Wee-chukchuking.”
Both Jenise and Gian roared with laughter. The corners of Traed’s lips twitched.
“Good thing they liked your scent, Gian,” Jenise added facetiously. “Who knows how long it would have taken us otherwise?”
This time even Traed laughed as the strange cart crept along the path.
The Wee-chukchuk proved themselves useful when the land started to dip down into gullies. Their wide, sharp paws dug into the ice and they were able to pass through areas that would have been difficult for the travelers to navigate on foot.
Jenise thought the starlit journey through the icy forest was particularly lovely. The cool, crisp air, the silvery branches against the dark sky, created a magical scene before her that she knew she would never forget.
Gian stood behind her, his muscular, leather-clad legs bracing her back. His presence added to the mood of this night, for even though she still would have enjoyed the scenery had he not been with her, it would not have been the same. There was a sense of excitement around the Familiar. He was like an adventure unto himself.
What was more, he made her feel so incredibly alive! Not simply because of his sensual expertise; it was everything about him. She suspected her impression was not due only to this journey they were on. It would always be that way around him. Gian was a unique, vital presence.
Once again she grew sad at the thought of leaving him.
As if he sensed the momentary change in her mood, he reached down and stroked the side of her neck with two fingers as he spoke to Traed. The unconscious, tender gesture affected her deeply. She affectionately rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand.
Near daybreak, they reached the Tunnel entrance.
It stood alone in the middle of the woods, a silent, pulsating maw of light. Jenise guessed that its location was significant in that it was hidden. She was proven correct when Gruntel informed them in his stilted speech that this Tunnel led to an Alliance world. Once they exited this Tunnel, there would be another close by that would lead directly to Aviara.
Both men cheered at the news.
Though Je
nise was also happy that the most dangerous part of their journey was apparently over, she was also somewhat downhearted, for she knew her time with Gian would soon be over. Back in the beginning, when she had gone to him as he lay chained to the wall, she had never imagined the relationship that would develop between them.
But then, she hadn’t anticipated someone like Guardian of the Mist. How could she have? Surely there was no one like him.
Gruntel surprised everyone by saying his good-byes.
“You are not coming with us?” Traed asked the guide as he took him aside.
“No come. Gruntel finished here. Take you as promised. Need go home now.”
“I see.” For some strange reason, Traed felt somewhat sad to see him go. He had actually come to like the Wiggamabob. And the guide had helped him when he had been struck with the poisonous quill. “Would you like to come to Aviara with us?” he surprised himself by asking. “I am sure we can find a place for you.”
Gruntel shook his head, his small eyes bright. “Need go home,” he repeated sadly.
Traed nodded acceptingly. Taking from his cloak a uniquely designed black and silver pouch heavy with stones, he held it out to Gruntel as payment for his services.
Gruntel grinned, eagerly scooping up the pouch. “Much good pay, Charl knight!” He did his little dance, turning around on his fat feet.
Traed smiled slightly. “Gruntel, I am not a Charl knight.”
Gruntel secured the stones inside his gray robes, ignoring Traed’s claim as he had from the beginning. “Accomplish great deed—save us all. Maybe get special reward from Charl!”
Traed’s features instantly turned to stone. “There is nothing I want from the Charl.”
Gruntel cocked his bumpy head to the side. “Want something. In heart. Deep. Gruntel know.”
A dull bronze highlighted the Aviaran’s high cheekbones. He turned away.
“Ask for heart’s need. Never hurt.” He patted the warrior’s back with his fat, leathery hand.
The Aviaran paused before saying softly, “Farewell, Gruntel. I wish you well.” He began walking toward the Tunnel entrance.
“Remember Gruntel’s words, Charl knight!” Gruntel called after him as he entered the portal.
Traed hesitated briefly but continued on.
Gruntel leaned on his crooked little staff, making sure they all entered the Tunnel safely. Satisfied, he continued on his way.
A Wiggamabob always took his job as guide very seriously.
Chapter Twelve
By their own reckoning of time passage, they arrived in the Hall of Tunnels on Aviara later that same day.
Jenise marveled at the beauty of the planet. The wide streets in the village were of paved stone and led to a center plaza flanked by shops. There were blooming trees and flowers everywhere, their exotic scent sweetening the air.
It was daytime here on Aviara and Jenise looked up, noting the clear, light blue sky. Just a hint of breeze wafted her hair. Trills sang in the trees and bushes and she saw that crystal chimes were hung in numerous places; their soft, tinkling sounds lent a harmonious atmosphere to the lovely scene.
Aviara was even more beautiful than she had heard. Inhaling deeply of the flower-scented air, she sighed.
“It is beautiful, is it not?” Gian smiled as he took in the welcome sight.
“Yes, even more lovely than I imagined.” She beamed up at him. “I am so glad I came here with you! It was one of the places I had always longed to see.”
His gaze shifted to her. “Your joy pleases me.” He lifted his hand to remove a stray lock of hair from her face. “It is your choice, but perhaps you would like to see M’yan as well,” he offered.
Overhearing the Familiar, Traed raised an eyebrow. Gian was a wise and deadly hunter. Such tactics as these were not unknown to Aviaran warriors. He watched the scene play out before him, fascinated.
Jenise’s eyes widened in surprise. “The Familiar homeworld?” No one was ever allowed on M’yan except by personal invitation. The Familiar guarded their privacy zealously. All kinds of rumors circulated about the place. Some said it was a mysterious world, harsh and unforgiving. Others claimed it was a place of untold ecstasy.
Whatever its nature, Jenise was sure such an opportunity would never come her way again. She would be foolish not to take the chance to see it for herself.
“That is very generous of you, Gian.”
Traed folded his arms across his chest. Generous. Gian had her completely ensnared. He patiently watched Guardian of the Mist appear to act humble. It was a sight not to be missed.
“Then you will come?” Gian beseeched in a sincere tone. He knew very well what such an invitation to explore would mean to her.
“If you do not think it would be any trouble…” She no idea that the Familiar had purposely waited for just the right moment to issue such an invitation.
Gian smiled much like the cat he was…the one in control of the intricate game he played. “No trouble at all, taja.”
“Then I should like that.” She smiled gratefully up at him.
“Good.” He took her hand. “You shall be ours, of course.”
“Ours?” she looked at him, puzzled.
“A figure of speech.”
It was more than that, Traed knew. When a Familiar took you into his home and said those words, he was claiming you to his family. His home was open to you as if it were your own.
Before she could question him about what the saying meant, he firmly led her in the direction of the home of Krue and Suleila.
It was a lovely day; they had survived to reach Aviara; she was going to have the rare opportunity to view M’yan; and she would not be leaving Gian for some time to come. All in all, she suddenly felt happy.
Traed noted Jenise’s light step and shining eyes and had to hand the victory to Guardian of the Mist.
Not that there had ever been any doubt of the outcome. Still, he wondered what her reaction was going to be when taj Gian got her safely ensconced on his homeworld.
Traed’s chiseled lips curled. From what he had seen of Jenise, he did not think she was going to take the situation lightly.
He almost envied Gian his battle to come. Speaking for himself, he had always had a liking for danger.
Of any kind.
Before they could reach Krue’s home, the ancient wizard Yaniff met them on the road.
“Gian!” He heartily slapped the Familiar on the back.
“Yaniff, my old friend.” He hugged the wizard in greeting. “I have much to thank you for, it appears.”
“Pssht! You have nothing to thank me for. I am only glad to see you are well and unharmed.”
“Yes, but you must thank Traed for that. If it were not for him we would not be here.”
Yaniff looked at Traed approvingly. “I never doubted you would do less, my son.”
Bronze highlighted Traed’s cheeks. Uncomfortable with praise of any kind, he muttered, “Taj Gian makes more of it than it was.”
“Are you saying that taj Gian exaggerates, Traed?” Yaniff shrewdly rejoined.
Either way he answered, Traed was caught. Annoyed at the wizard’s ability to trap him in such a way, he stared stonily ahead, refusing to say anything.
Yaniff chuckled. “You have done a valiant thing for the Guild and for the Familiars, Traed. Do not be shy to say so.” Yaniff turned to Gian. “I can glean what has transpired from your mind.” He looked pointedly at Jenise. “I will apprise the others of the situation. Do you wish to speak to the High Guild now?”
Gian thought for a moment. “Yes, I will. Jenise, Traed will take you to Krue’s home, where you may rest until I come. Suleila, his wife, is a member of my family.”
Jenise bit her lip, hesitant about going to a stranger’s home expecting shelter. Gian cupped her cheek. “It is all right, Creamcat. She will be happy to have you. You will like her very much, I am sure.”
“Perhaps I should go to an inn?”
“N
o. Traed, take her to Krue’s.”
Immediately Traed came forward to do so.
“Gian!” Jenise protested his high-handed attitude.
“I know you will be cared for there in the home of my family. I will see you soon.” He bent down and imperiously kissed her lips. {Tell Suleila to keep silent.} He sent the thought to Traed, who inclined his head in acknowledgment.
It wasn’t until she was being led away that Jenise wondered how the Familiar had managed to get her to do exactly as he wanted. She had never heard that tone of command from him before! It was rather…forceful. A niggling worry crossed her mind.
Gian entered Krue’s home some time later, finding Traed in the great room. The warrior’s hair was once more pulled tightly back in a ponytail. He was sipping a cup of warm mir as he idly thumbed through a book.
Obviously he was waiting for Gian to return so that he might leave. Despite the fact that three other warriors resided in this household, taj Gian had entrusted Jenise to him. Traed would not leave until the trust was returned to Gian. Such was the Aviaran way.
“Where is Jenise?”
Traed looked up as the Familiar entered the room. “She is resting upstairs.”
“Where is everyone else?”
“Krue and Suleila went to see Melody.”
“Ah, Lorgin’s babe. Yaniff has told me Krue is besotted.”
Traed smiled slightly. “Yes, it is something to see. The babe has him at her bidding. He claims she looks just like him.”
Gian laughed at the picture of a legendary warrior such as Krue being brought to heel by a mere babe. “Does she?”
Traed shrugged. “I am not one to ask of such things.”
Gian had observed that although Traed was a part of the family of Krue, he was apart. It was unfortunate for all concerned. “Where is Rejar?”
Traed steepled his fingers, resting his chin on the tips. His mood was indecipherable. “Rejar is at Yaniff’s.”
“Yaniff’s? What does he there?”
“Ah…you would not have heard. Rejar has joined the Charl.”