TravellersRefuge

by Anny Cook

  She bent over her wheel, absorbed in the intricacies of forming the oval wachaz pans and lost track of time. She jerked back in surprise and squeaked when Wolfe nudged her shoulder. “You startled me! What’s wrong?”

  “You will no doubt be thrilled when I inform you that I’ve been assigned as your healer,” he replied sourly.

  “What? When did that happen?” She sat back and stared at him in perplexed amazement.

  He folded his arms across his bare chest and sighed. “This morning, at my meeting with Dai. At first, I was angry with you, thinking that you told him about my talents,” he admitted softly. “But Dai was very clear that Papa was the one that asked him to talk to me, just as Papa apparently told him about you. Papa wanted him to assess my talent before he spent any more time urging me to apprentice for healing.”

  “So, clearly Dai’s verdict is that you are talented. I could have saved him the trouble,” she replied with a shrug. “Who are you apprenticing with?”

  “Dai.” His dry, wry tone was eloquent.

  “Well. That’s certainly interesting.” She leaned back and stared at him in astonishment. “Dai hasn’t had an apprentice since Llyon. Does that mean you’ll also be a Master Healer?”

  “Apparently. When he’s satisfied that I’ve mastered the basics, he’s sending me down to Rebaccah’s Promise to apprentice under Henry.” He shifted uncomfortably under her interested gaze. “Well? Isn’t this what you kept pushing for? Aren’t you happy?”

  Getting to her feet, she approached him and wrapped her arms around his waist. At first he held his body stiff and withdrawn but she persisted until he relaxed and returned the hug. “What am I going to do?” he muttered in despair.

  “You’re going to be the best you can be. If you’re apprenticing under Henry, then Dai is truly certain that you are a gifted healer. Dai’s never been wrong as long as we’ve known him.” She rested her head against his chest and shivered. “Wolfe, you’re not selfish enough to deprive the valley of your gifts and talents.”

  “Yeah, well, you may be sorry. Because the first thing I’m going to recommend is that you begin communication with Trav. You have two days to reach him and open a mind-touch link.” When she would have pulled away, his arms tightened around her shoulders. “Uhn-uh. If you haven’t completed your task by then, Dai said that he will forge a three-way link between you, me and himself and then open that triple link with Trav. Consider that before you get all huffy about having your hand forced.”

  “Son of a—”

  “Don’t go there,” he warned her.

  “Sea-biscuit!” She shoved away from him and stalked around the dome, muttering beneath her breath.

  “I did tell you several days ago that you needed to reach him.”

  “Don’t say ‘I told you so’!”

  “Well?”

  “Just go away!”

  “For now,” he agreed. “But day after tomorrow, we will meet first thing in the morning after breakfast in the treatment room. Don’t be late.”

  Chapter Four

  Three hours after he walked away from the truck stop, Trav had acquired a vehicle, visited two of the safe houses he had set up, acquiring various items from each and was stretched out on a bed, resting for the first time in two days in a horizontal position. He had also squeezed in time for a fast shower and a drive-thru breakfast of sandwiches and a large coffee. He closed his eyes and forced himself to relax, one muscle group at a time, knowing that while he might not sleep, the benefits of resting would be enhanced if he wasn’t tense. Getting the hamster wheel in his mind to slow down was another thing entirely. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he was going to get it to stop but slow would be good, he conceded.

  Long moments later, he was dozing lightly, aware of his surroundings on a deep automatic level that never seemed to shut down. A faint tickle of awareness was his only warning before a soft but distinct “voice” spoke in his mind. Traveller.

  “What! Who’s there?” He sat up in bed and listened to the silence in the tiny apartment with intense concentration.

  Traveller. There’s no need to shout! He got the clear impression that the “voice” had winced in discomfort.

  Toning his response down some, he “thought” at the voice, Who is this? What are you doing in my head? Was this what Dancer had experienced—this female invading his mind?

  Faint amusement trickled through the link. I am Wrenna. Your brother Dancer is my bond-brother. Mind speech is common in our valley between bond mates.

  As her meaning sank in, he stiffened in disbelieving shock. You know Dancer? What is this valley? And what the hell is a bond mate? The questions poured out without pause before he had time to consider that the entire conversation could be a trap.

  In the cool privacy of the oddly empty kitchen, Wrenna nodded approvingly. He had accepted the mind speech with barely a blink but he had questions. Probably a lot of questions. She nibbled at her lips as she considered which question to answer first.

  Wrenna?

  I’m still here. I’m just trying to organize my thoughts.

  Well, organize them faster.

  Yeah, he was Dancer’s brother, she thought with a small smile, alpha male from the top of his red-gold head to the bottom of his big feet. Dancer is in our valley. He bonded with my sister, Eppie, over a moon ago. Papa says that a bond mate is like an out-valley spouse.

  You’re trying to tell me my brother got married? Trav’s disbelief rang clearly through the link.

  The relationship is similar, she agreed, though the ritual is very different, I think. At least Dancer and my parents have said so.

  How do I know this isn’t some kind of trap? Traveller’s anxiety, filtering across the link, told Wrenna that he was both stressed and alarmed by their conversation.

  Clearly, she needed to reassure him as soon as possible. She nibbled on her lower lip, pondering the best way and then hesitantly offered, Dancer said to tell you the code word is “Dragon”.

  There was a very long silence—so long that Wrenna thought for a moment that he had figured out how to shut her out completely. If true, that meant he was a very fast learner. Abruptly, he said, I need to talk to Dancer. How do I do that?

  I’m not sure I even know, she admitted. I’ve always been able to talk to my sibs and parents. Other than them, you’re the only one I have mind speech with. Maybe you should just try calling his name.

  Like you did?

  Yes, exactly.

  Wait just a minute. Didn’t you say something about mind speech in the beginning? Something about bond mates? The suspicion coloring his tone was heavy and dark. Explain that again.

  She wished she hadn’t chosen the kitchen for this conversation. Sighing, she sipped her mint tea and wondered what he would make of her explanation. Nothing good, she was willing to bet. Mind speech is one of the two signs that a couple has an attachment. An attachment is a natural bond that takes place without the oath-binding ritual. Your brother had such an attachment with Eppie.

  An even longer silence followed her explanation but this time there were spikes and flashes of some emotion, though she couldn’t discern exactly what it was. When she had nearly given up on him, he announced, I have to go. My shadows have caught up with me. I will get back to you later. Then he was gone, leaving an echoing silence in his wake.

  Dai and Wolfe entered the kitchen through the back door. While Wolfe set the kettle on the fire, Dai arranged some dried quoltanias, honeyed pocco nuts, rich orange rowan cheese and thin smoked hopper slices on a platter. Wolfe took out a fresh plate of barbahla bread and sliced off several narrow breadsticks to add to the platter. The entire preparation of the impromptu lunch was completed in total but companionable silence. When everything was ready, food, plates and utensils and tea, the men sat down and began filling their plates. Wrenna took some of the small wrinkled blue quoltanias, a thick slice of cheese and two breadsticks and absently chewed while she waited for Dai to say what was
on his mind. To her surprise, it was Wolfe, not Dai, who launched the first sally.

  “You spoke to Traveller?” he inquired abruptly.

  “Yes. Briefly.”

  “And? What was his reaction?” Dai asked curiously.

  “He seemed very suspicious. Very stressed. He mentioned something about shadows and said he had to go.” She shrugged. “I don’t think he quite understood what I was explaining about the bonding.”

  Wolfe studied her puzzled expression for a moment and then observed, “But you had no trouble speaking to him, correct?”

  “No,” she admitted very softly. “I had no trouble speaking to him. He asked how he could speak to Dancer. Since I’ve never known any time that I couldn’t speak to my sibs, I told him that. I believe he might try to reach Dancer.”

  Dai stared down at his plate as he thought about the possibilities. “He might not be able to reach Dancer until he’s in the valley,” Dai said slowly. “It may be that only bond mates can communicate through the veil between the outside and here. If he’s anything like Dancer, that may frustrate or even anger him. Trust, for them both, is a difficult issue.”

  “Under the circumstances, I’m astounded that he even replied. Although,” Wrenna added thoughtfully, “I think I caught him by surprise. What are these shadows he mentioned?”

  Dai chewed and swallowed before explaining, “Traveller and Dancer were being pursued by a powerful group of men intent on killing them. Your papa told me that Trav and Dance knew secrets that these men would kill to keep. I believe Trav’s shadows are probably some of the men pursuing him. If so, he is in serious danger.”

  Wolfe got up to refill their tea mugs. “You said that you don’t believe he understood about the bonding. What exactly did you tell him?”

  Wrenna repeated the conversation verbatim, including the vague emotional impressions she’d received. “He blocked me out quite easily. If it’s his first experience with mind speech, he’s a fast learner.”

  Tilting his head to hide a smile, Dai bit back a laugh. Oh, his grandsons were definitely quick. According to Dancer, Trav was the more inventive of the two of them. If Dai had not experienced living with Jade and Merlyn, he might have been surprised at the intelligence and original thinking of the out-valley people. But after living with them over the last twenty-five years, nothing much surprised him.

  “What’s so funny?” Wrenna asked suspiciously.

  “Not a thing.” Dai stood and carried his plate to the sink. “When you talk to Traveller again, you might want to explain a bit more about the bonding and schalzina.”

  “He’s a complete stranger to me. If you think I’m going to tell him we need to bond so we can have sex—”

  “Better that he knows ahead of time, don’t you think?” Wolfe took a hearty bite of cheese while she thought it over. By the time he’d chewed and swallowed, she still hadn’t come up with an answer, so he stuffed the remaining quoltanias in his mouth and got up to carry his plate to the sink. Dai had already finished clearing the table, except for Wrenna’s plate and mug and Wolfe’s.

  Finally with a deep sigh, Wrenna admitted, “I suppose I’ll have to explain schalzina but it’s so difficult to talk to a virtual stranger about it.”

  “You haven’t begun to know difficult,” Wolfe replied with remarkable restraint. “Your bond mate hasn’t been raped and abused and is not enslaved. You have a reasonable expectation that Traveller will find a way to come to the valley. Until Raven escapes, I don’t even have a hope.”

  Deeply ashamed of her whining, Wrenna blushed a pale shade of lavender. “You are right, Wolfe. I’m sorry.”

  “Be happy that you will be with your bond mate soon.” With that last admonition, he left her alone in the kitchen with Dai.

  The old healer sighed. “I could wish that Wolfe was not so aware of Raven but it would serve no purpose. It grieves him that he cannot save her.”

  “I know.”

  “Your parents are coming home for Mid-Summer. I think I will go back to my retreat after the picnic and fair. I’m not as young as I used to be and watching over the younglings is more tiring than I remembered.”

  She laughed at his puzzled expression. “You just don’t know how to deal with Panther and Llynx. They encourage each other in their antics. What one doesn’t think of the other is sure to.”

  “One can only hope that when they are older, all that excess energy will be a service to the valley,” Dai retorted, before leaving her alone to her uncomfortable reflections in the cool kitchen.

  Chapter Five

  Trav crouched in the dark, dank basement of an abandoned building and pondered the odd exchange with the strange woman who called herself Wrenna. Her assertion that Dancer was living in her valley, “bonded” with her sister, was startling. The other items they’d discussed were just plain weird.

  Mind speech? Attachment? And that oath-binding ritual shit? The only reason he was wasting his time mulling it all over was her use of the code word dragon. What puzzled him was the fact that she didn’t use the entire phrase. That alone told him that Dancer had some reservations. Otherwise she would have used some variation that included all three words—sunrise, dragon and summer.

  Abruptly, he was very anxious to follow Dancer and discover for himself exactly what was happening. Before he could do that, he needed to put the finishing touches on his plan. There were certain items he needed—such as a reliable heavy-duty-four wheel drive vehicle—plus, his plan called for a hostage—to keep the ever-inventive Free. Llewellyn off his back. He knew exactly where to get everything he required in one place. His good buddy, Bishop Llewellyn, would be the perfect hostage and he just happened to own the perfect vehicle. In his secret basement the other requirements for the plan were concealed behind a hidden door. Yeah, Bishop would be perfect.

  First though, he needed to arrange for his plan to be leaked to Free Llewellyn. It didn’t require much thought to choose the perfect weasel. Every organization had one. In Free’s organization, that person was Paullie. Five minutes after he acquired new information, Paullie the Weasel would be sitting in Free’s office spilling his guts.

  So before he visited Bishop, he needed to have a short chat with Paullie. Trav pressed the button on his illuminating watch face and noted the time. Four a.m. Perfect. He eased from his hiding place and set off. Time was a-wasting.

  * * * * *

  The swish of wet tires and the intermittent tapping of bare windblown tree limbs on the window were brief distractions for the bored man lying spread-eagled on the wide bed. Perched on her heels between his legs, Tiffany sat back in irritation and demanded, “What’s the problem?”

  “What problem?” Bishop drawled with faint amusement. “You havin’ a problem down there, baby?”

  “Dammit, Bish, you know what I’m talking about! I’ve been sucking your cock until my lips are numb and nothing’s happening!” Tiffany threw herself down next to Bish with her back to him and pouted.

  “Ah, come on, babe,” he coaxed, patting her pert butt absently. “You aren’t just going to give up, are you?”

  “What about me?” she muttered petulantly. “I’m horny!”

  His blue eyes narrowed and darkened as he contemplated her huddled form. “Name one time that you’ve gone home dissatisfied, Tiff.”

  “Never mind.”

  “I don’t think so. You complained about my performance and then you implied that I don’t satisfy you. What is your problem?” he queried with dangerous gentleness.

  She knew that tone very well and hastily sought to allay his rising annoyance. She was so not in the mood to spend the day tied to his bed. “It’s nothing, nothing. I’m just sick of this weather.”

  “Really.” He rolled from the bed, stretched until his joints popped and yawned. “You know, Tiff, I do believe I’ve been neglecting you,” he said thoughtfully, studying her tousled brown curls and sleepy eyes. “You were right to bring that to my attention.”

  Tiffan
y turned over on the bed to face the tall broad-shouldered man standing proudly naked next to the bed, wariness and alarm flittering across her face. For a man who lived on the very generous trust fund a great-uncle had left him and who supposedly never lifted a finger if he didn’t have to, Bishop Llewellyn was remarkably fit. There were quite a few people, including his father, which would have been very interested in the secret rooms he maintained in the townhouse next door. The complete gym, extensive library and high-tech-filled office would have amazed the bored men and women assigned to watch him. As far as they could tell, he never left his townhouse even to shop for groceries. The occasional party didn’t count, of course.

  “Bish, I said it’s just the weather!” Tiffany protested. “Never mind.”