by Ivy Barrett
“I know you’ve been providing for her longer than you’ve been affluent, yet she believes her mother is dead. Are you ashamed of your child, or are you worried she’ll be ashamed of you?”
“She has nothing to do with this.”
“I’m not so sure.” He stood as well, resting his hands on the desktop. “Does Matthias know he has a daughter?”
He was a bit off base with his conclusion, but the details were unimportant. No one threatened Tamara. For a long, strained moment, she glared into his eyes. “Don’t threaten me or anyone under my protection. I am not without recourses.”
“It’s not a threat. Sometimes my clients offer their secrets, other times I find them on my own. I suspected you would be less forthcoming than most. Tamara is only threatened if I am threatened. Do we understand each other?”
“Where is Matt Sterling?” She gritted out the question between clenched teeth, unable to hide her fury.
“I suggest you make a pilgrimage to the wilderness on Temple-Tuttle. It looks like you could use a vacation.”
Chapter Eight
Serena knelt in the grassy clearing at the base of the Cliffs of Enarre. Matt faced her, eyes closed, features relaxed. Triple waterfalls spilled into a murky pool. The rumble was rhythmic and soothing.
She studied his soul strands with tender determination. They’d spent the past three days indulging their sexuality. Each time they touched, she felt her gift unfurl a little more. She’d been able to summon soul strands since her ascension, but she had never attempted to manipulate them before.
Manipulate wasn’t an accurate word for what she was trying to do. No one could force another to change, but her gift offered her the insight and sensitivity to guide others through their emotional evolution.
Closing her fingers around one of his constrictions, she intensified the restriction. “Can you feel that?”
“Yes.” His tone was breathless and strained.
“I’m going to squeeze even harder. I want you to understand the difference between this knot and the free flow of energy.”
“All right.”
She used both hands and cringed when he shuddered and groaned. “This is regret. You cannot change the past. No one can. You can only control how much influence the events have on your future.”
“I’ve tried to forget. I can’t.”
Releasing her hold on his strands, she touched his shoulder and waited until he opened his eyes. “I didn’t say anything about forgetting. The only way to move beyond a memory is to accept that it’s part of you and determine that it will no longer be harmful. The harder you try to forget something or someone, the more energy you waste on them.”
“You don’t believe in remorse?”
“I never said that. Regret, remorse, shame, whatever you want to call it, allows us to examine our mistakes and learn from them. If we spend all our time and energy reliving the events in our past, nothing ever changes.” She moved closer, her knees pressing against his. “The first step in recovery is often forgiveness, and sometimes it’s ourselves we must forgive. Close your eyes. Let’s try this again.”
It took a moment for him to open his mind. His strands flickered and pulsed, their rhythm stilted and inconsistent. She eased her hands into the stream. His energy flowed through her, revealing his determination and the strength of character locked within the tangles.
“Don’t speak. Listen to my voice and allow your mind to respond.” Her fingers tingled and colors danced before her eyes. “Choose a memory, one incident in your past that made you happy.” His strands brightened and surged. Using the healthy sections as a guide, she untangled the largest cluster, holding them steady while his being registered the change. “Can you feel that?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful.”
“Memorize the sensation. Absorb it into your being.” His shoulders relaxed and he breathed more evenly. “Good. If you feel the past returning, find this moment, this memory. Remember what it felt like to remember something peaceful and calm.”
His eyes opened and his soul strands dimmed. “Why don’t I just remember the happy memory?”
“Because your thinking is more convoluted than that. You must establish new pathways to your memories. It’s important for you to accept the bad with the good while learning from each.” She waited until his eyes drifted shut again before she added, “Instead of trying to control your memories, we’re going to teach you a different way to remember.”
“I’m not sure I know what you mean, but let’s give it a try.”
His strands intensified with each deep breath. She made a final adjustment then shifted her hand. “I’m going to let go gradually. Concentrate on the new rhythm. Try to maintain the feeling.” She eased her hold on the wounded area, decreasing the support until his strands flowed freely around her fingers.
He sighed. “I can’t believe the difference.”
She smiled, pleased by their progress. “We’ll make adjustments at the first sign of constriction. Let me know immediately if you feel the pressure return.” He nodded and a dreamy smile curved his lips. It was all she could do not to lean in and kiss him. Once he had stabilized this section, they’d work on the other tangles, but this was a wonderful start.
“You’re sure you’ve never done this before?” He opened his eyes and rolled his shoulders. “That was pretty amazing.”
“This is just the beginning. If you let down your guard, you’ll fall back into the old pattern. Think of it as emotional exercise. It won’t come naturally at first.”
“I understand.”
“Good. Let’s go back to the village. I need to check in with Hyalee.”
He helped her to her feet and closed his fingers around hers. “Do you need a reference? I’d be happy to verify your skill.”
They crossed the clearing hand in hand and headed down the narrow path. “Unfortunately, she can’t take your word for it. I have to demonstrate my abilities for the entire Order.”
“How is that possible if no one else can see soul strands?”
The past three days had been amazing. She’d learned more about the outside world since meeting Matt than in all the seasons that had gone before. Miranda was reluctant to share the details of her life on Halley Prime. She didn’t want to be responsible for her sister’s discontent. Lutton’s time away had enriched their lives, yet his attitude remained suspicious. Most of the Perrlain felt they would be better off if they never interacted with outsiders and Serena had always agreed. Now she wasn’t so sure.
She had never found anyone as fascinating as Matt. He patiently answered her endless questions, speaking freely of his world. Her curiosity soon moved beyond his environment and settled on the man himself. She wanted to know who he was and what made him happy, not just what pleasured him.
“Hyalee is able to project her being into others for a brief period of time.” She focused her wayward thoughts on the subject at hand. “She’ll be able to see what I see and know what I know.”
“That must be interesting.” He held up a stray branch and allowed her to pass along the trail.
“It’s extremely dangerous. If she stays too long outside her body, she will be unable to return.”
“How does she know when her time is up?”
“She can usually sense the connection fading, but there have been times when she felt nothing until she tried to return. It also leaves her vulnerable to other dangers.”
“I gather you don’t mean the physical kind.”
“No, possessing spirits and dark influences have an open door each time she projects.”
He shot her a sidelong glance filled with confusion and concern. “Then why does she do it?”
“It’s her responsibility as high priestess. That’s why the Deity gave her the gift.”
“Each high priestess has been able to project her consciousness into others?”
“It’s a prerequisite.”
“It doesn’t seem to matter how much I’m ex
posed to your abilities, it’s still hard to believe these things really happen.”
She smiled. “I’m sure I would feel the same, were I to visit Halley Prime.” He paused and faced her. Night was rapidly closing in. It was unwise to tarry in the jungle.
“Would you like to visit Halley Prime?”
“I don’t know. It was never a possibility before.”
He tucked her hand into the curve of his elbow and started walking again. “If I stayed until after the full moon, would you be allowed to accompany me offworld?”
Her heart fluttered at the thought of traveling with him. He could show her things she could hardly imagine and… “Could we visit Miranda?”
“Of course. I know she’d be thrilled to see you.”
As rapidly as the excitement surged, it plummeted. She was a soul seer. Her obligation was to the Order, her loyalty must be to her people. “It’s a wonderful fantasy, but I have responsibilities.”
“Your people can’t spare you for a few weeks?”
She suspected the lure of the outside world would keep her away for much longer than that. Matt was certainly a temptation and Miranda’s stories had always made her long for…something more.
“Let’s focus on your recovery and the conclusion of my ascension. Neither of us can afford to be distracted right now.”
They’d reached the outskirts of the village. Matt wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her off the trail. Leaning against a tree trunk, he pressed her against him. “I find you more than distracting. I thought this attraction would lessen once…”
“Once what?” She rubbed his chest, enjoying the hair-roughened texture of his skin. “Once the challenge was gone?”
“I’d like to believe I’m not that shallow, but it’s happened before.”
“And once I could freely express my sexuality, I should have had no more use for you.” She stretched up and kissed his mouth. “Neither of us is responding the way Hyalee and Lutton intended.”
“Which leads me back to my original question.” His hands dipped beneath her robe and cupped her bare bottom. “Will you be allowed to accompany me?”
“You could always stay here with me.”
He didn’t immediately make an excuse. He stared into her eyes and moved one hand to her hair. “That’s not how I pictured the rest of my life, but I’m willing to consider it.”
Maybe had never sounded so sweet.
* * * * *
“How can people live like this?” Petra swatted at a massive flying insect and pressed closer to Ebon. Spaceships weren’t allowed to land within the wilderness preserve, so they’d been forced to set down and hike through the oppressive jungle. She’d had no idea what she was getting herself into when Cephus suggested a pilgrimage.
“I don’t think this is in my job description,” Ebon grumbled, swinging a massive machete with frightening precision. “It’s hard to ensure the security of the Dark Star when I’m on a different outpost.”
“Your primary responsibility is my safety. Don’t ever forget it.”
“Even if we find this reclusive tribe, what makes you think Matt will still be there?”
“My source tracked him here and there has been no indication that he left.”
Ebon shot her an impatient glare. “And Cephus couldn’t possibly be wrong?”
“His information has been faultlessly accurate. I have no reason to doubt him.”
“You’re afraid of him.”
She returned his glare. “You would be too if you knew half of what I know about that man.”
“Fine, so Cephus is a paragon of villainy. What the hell are we doing here?”
“Don’t be daft,” she snapped. “You know good and well why we’re here.”
“I know we’re searching for some person named Matt Sterling. That doesn’t really answer the why.”
“Just do what you’re told and you’ll keep your job.”
“If we make it out of this alive, I’ll expect a hefty bonus.”
“Fine.”
“And a blowjob.”
“Any of the Mistresses will suck you dry anytime you like.”
“I’m well aware of the fact, sweetheart. I want you on your knees.”
She didn’t argue or relent. There was no way she could have made this trek alone, but they still needed to find Matt.
A spear flew in front of Ebon’s face and lodged in a nearby tree with a menacing thunk. She watched the shaft wobble as Ebon sprang into motion. Shoving her to the ground, he stood over her, pulse pistol ready to blast their unseen attacker.
“Drintal pev arnstin caribom talli mon!”
She had no idea what the words meant, but the deep male voice cracked like a whip. “We are pilgrims, come to offer praise.” She’d been told the words would calm even the most aggressive native.
“You don’t look like pilgrims.” The same man responded in heavily accented Shardrake. His form still lost in shadow.
“We came to barter.” Ebon motioned toward the hover-cart. “Would you like to see what we offer?”
Four natives crept closer, three brandishing spears. The spokesman stayed slightly apart from the others, his dark gaze openly assessing. Ebon retracted the top of the cart and allowed the men to inspect the variety of merchandise they’d assembled—fabric, rope, cooking utensils and spices.
“Are you Wikoli or Perrlain?” Petra asked, her attention fixed on the spokesman.
“If we were Perrlain, you’d be dead. They have become extremely intolerant of pilgrims lately.”
“Do you currently have any other visitors?” she asked. Cephus hadn’t known Matt’s final destination, just that he was in the wilderness preserve on Temple-Tuttle.
“We were returning from a hunt. I will take you to Drey Fon. He knows everything that transpires in the valley.”
“Is he your leader?”
“He likes to think so.”
They fell in step behind the Wikoli hunters. A river guided them to the village and Petra gazed around in horror. Huts were separated by dirt trails and fire pits. There was nothing that even faintly resembled civilization. One of the hunters spoke to the leader and all four laughed.
“What did he say?” Petra had the distinct impression she’d been the butt of a joke.
“He was curious to know if all your hair is blue.”
She was just annoyed enough to answer, but Ebon placed his hand on her arm.
“You don’t know what they will perceive as an invitation,” he warned.
They came to a hut slightly larger than the others. The spokesman called out in their native tongue and a dark-haired man with copper-tinted skin emerged from inside. Like the hunters, he wore only a piece of brightly colored material wrapped around his hips. Unlike the hunters, elaborate golden decorations surrounded his upper arms and throat.
“We have visitors,” the hunter told him in Shardrake.
“So I see,” he responded in the same language.
After bowing from the waist, the hunter turned back the way he’d come.
“What brings you to our village?” The other man’s voice was well-modulated and nearly free of the hunter’s guttural accent. He stalked toward her, his dark eyes settling on her face.
“Stories of your culture have been buzzing about on Halley Prime ever since my nephew Ashton VinDerley encountered some of the Perrlain.”
“We are not Perrlain.”
The hostility in his tone surprised her. Were the two tribes at war? “Your friend told me I’d probably be dead if you were.”
“He exaggerates. The Perrlain are cowards, content to pretend the rest of the universe doesn’t exist.”
These savages had a thing or two to learn about hospitality. She was exhausted, sweaty and dying of thirst. “We brought wares to barter, but I’d really like to freshen up before we negotiate.” Hopefully, that was clear enough for this imbecile.
“We have a lodge for visitors. I’ll take you there.” He motioned
Ebon off in the direction the hunter had taken. “You may sleep with the men.”
“Where she goes, I go. No exceptions.” His hand covered his pulse pistol, though he didn’t bother drawing the weapon.
“As you wish.”
He led them down another path, this one even less tolerable than the others. What little moonlight they had previously enjoyed was choked out by the dense trees and twisting vines. Ebon flipped on his light beam and their host—she couldn’t remember what the hunter had called him—snatched it out of his hand.
“Night creatures are best left asleep. Move quickly and quietly.”
“Perhaps it would be better if we stayed in the village.” She’d had about enough of his rudeness.
“We’re almost there.”
“What’s your name again and what role do you play in this tribe?”
“You may call me Drey Fon.”
“I’m Petra. This is Ebon.”
Drey Fon acknowledged the introduction with a stiff nod, still refusing to define his role.
“Did you lock the hover-cart?” she asked Ebon. It would be hard to barter if they returned to the village and found all of their goods missing.
“The Wikoli are not thieves.” Drey Fon sounded genuinely affronted.
A faint glow separated a dwelling from the surrounding darkness. Had someone lit a fire in this heat? That would be just her luck to be stuck in a sweat lodge with this disagreeable…
The door opened and firelight spilled out into the night, silhouetting the woman standing in the threshold. There was no doubt she was a woman. Despite her long black hair, her curvaceous shape was revealed in glorious detail.
“Is she naked?” Ebon whispered.
“We find no shame in our nudity. You will find yourselves grossly overdressed for our climate.”
The woman stepped back from the doorway, allowing them to enter the small hut. Though a fire burned in a shallow pit, the interior of the lodge was surprisingly comfortable. A crude table and matching bench were the only furniture. On the far side of the fire pit spread a mound of mismatched bedding. The hand-quilted blankets and embroidered coverlets as well as animal hides were likely the result of bartering.