The Tigrens' Glory (Soul-Linked Saga) (Volume 9)

by Laura Jo Phillips

  She undressed, put the reader and a hand towel on the rim of the tub next to the throwing knife, then climbed into the hot water with a sigh of pleasure. She reached up and began the long process of letting her hair down so that she could shampoo it.

  When loose, her hair now reached her hips in a long, thick cascade of wavy blue-black silk. Following the customs of Ramouri, she wore it in a complicated weave of folded plaits that hung to the middle of her back, threaded with the traditional golden cord that indicated her status as a member of the royal family. Females on Ramouri never cut their hair aside from regular trims. It was, by both tradition and custom, forbidden. Until that morning, Glory’s hair had been so long that three feet of it dragged on the floor when loose, a typical length for women her age. On impulse, she’d found a pair of scissors in Lariah’s guest bathroom and cut it to her hips. Her head felt oddly light now, but she was pleased with how quickly she’d been able to bind it afterward, and how easy it was to release those bindings now.

  As she removed the last plait and set the cord aside it occurred to her that she could go out in public without binding her hair at all if she wished. No one here would know, or care, that it was much shorter than it should be for a respectable woman of Ramouri. Nor would it matter if they did, she reminded herself. She’d been banished. Ramourian customs were no longer her own unless she chose them to be.

  She leaned back in the tub and closed her eyes, letting the heat of the water seep into her. For a few minutes she toyed with the idea of cutting her hair short, like Saige Lobo’s, before deciding she wasn’t ready for that big of a change. Instead, she decided to forego the complicated binding of her hair for the evening, and opt for a simple braid like she’d seen some of the other women wear. It might not seem like much to most, but for her it was a bigger step than cutting it had been.

  Happy with her decision, she dried her hands on the towel she’d set on the rim of the tub and reached for the reader. She was pleased to discover that it really was easy to use. She spent a few moments scrolling through the titles Lariah had downloaded for her before selecting one at random from the Steamy category. She opened the file and leaned back in the tub to read.

  ***

  “What was that?” Cade asked, looking around the valley in search of his brothers. Kirk was walking toward him from the river, and Kyerion was standing before a heavy door that stood upright without support on the blue grass.

  “I think a better question is who was that,” Kirk growled.

  “It was just a dream,” Kyerion said, turning his back on the door and joining his brothers in the center of the valley.

  “Dream or not, she was letting a strange man kiss her,” Kirk said irritably. “And touch her. She belongs to us.”

  “She cannot belong to us, Kirk,” Kyerion said, though the words tasted like ashes in his mouth. He was just as disturbed by the shadowy, disjointed snippets of Glory’s dream as Kirk was, but one of them had to be reasonable, and he was the eldest. “She isn’t Klanaren, remember?”

  “What of her metallic eyes?” Kirk asked. “You know as I do that eyes such as ours belong only to Clan Tigren.”

  “Among the Klanaren, that’s true,” Kyerion said. “But she is not Klanaren, as she made plain. Nor is she soul-linked, which would also be required since she’s female. She is human, and for all we know, metallic eyes are a common trait for her people.”

  “Klanaren or not, she belongs to us, as we belong to her,” Cade said with calm certainty. “I’m not sure how or why, but the feeling is too strong for me to deny.”

  “I feel the same as both of you,” Kyerion admitted. “But we need to use our heads. Besides, since we don’t even know where we are, I’m not sure it even matters at this point.”

  Glory had given all three of them a lot more of her own energy than she’d realized. They’d grown so weak that they’d lost touch with each other, something he never would have believed possible. Glory had healed and strengthened their bonds, and then given Cade, the weakest of them, the equivalent of a concentrated boost.

  As Druids, they had no trouble duplicating what she’d done once they’d gained a little strength, so they were now able to remain in their own copy of her valley. As Klanaren, it was their nature to be stronger together than they were when apart, and they found Glory’s valley relaxing. They were exercising their minds, working to increase their power so that they could block Glory from giving them more of her own essence in future, but it was a slow process.

  “I think we should ask her who that man was,” Kirk said.

  “I disagree,” Kyerion replied. “I don’t think we should let her know that we can look into her dreams at all.”

  “Why not?” Kirk asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Kyerion said. “It’s just a feeling. A strong one.”

  “Fine, but if she keeps dreaming of other men touching her, it’s going to drive me crazy,” Kirk said.

  “It’s not easy for any of us, Kirk,” Kyerion said.

  “I know it,” Kirk replied with a sigh. “How long do you think it’ll be before she returns?”

  “Not long,” Kyerion said. “She’s sleeping much less now. That’s a good sign.”

  “We should not have taken so much energy from her,” Cade said.

  “We didn’t do it deliberately, Cade,” Kyerion said. “We are more aware now, and stronger. We should have little or no trouble blocking her the next time she comes to us.”

  “I wish we had a better sense of how much time has passed,” Kirk said. “I don’t know if it’s been one day, or ten, or a hundred since we spoke with her.”

  “We will ask when next we see her,” Kyerion said. “Now, shall we exercise our minds again by making things appear and disappear?”

  “Yes,” Cade said at once. “I’m still not as strong as you two, and I don’t want Glory to feel she needs to give me any more of her energy.”

  “You go first, then,” Kyerion said. He watched as Cade began building a replica of the jungle around their home on Ugaztun, while in his mind he was trying to convince himself that what he’d told his brothers was true. Glory would return to them. They just needed to be patient a little longer.

  **

  Glory’s eyes popped open, her entire body tense with the knowledge that she was supposed to be doing…something. She turned her head and frowned at the clock on the bedside table. When she sat up, she was surprised to find that she was holding the reader Lariah had given her. Her eyes widened and she nearly jumped from the bed, checking the time again. She had less than half an hour to dress for dinner.

  She hurried into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep. After her bath she’d laid down on the bed to read and gotten caught up in the story. A romantic scene between the two main characters had shocked and titillated her. She remembered closing her eyes as she tried to imagine the scene in her mind, and then she’d obviously fallen asleep.

  She reached for her toothbrush as she admonished herself for being so careless. Showing up late for dinner would be an unforgivable breach of manners, and she owed the Dracons better than that.

  She was dressed and ready to go by the time the steward Lariah had promised knocked on her door. Years of self control insured that no one would ever guess how difficult it was for her to step out in public with her scandalously short hair woven into a single thick braid hanging to her waist.

  Glory put all thoughts of her hair from her mind and paid close attention to her surroundings as she followed the young man up the hall to the elevators and then through another series of halls. She marked the location of the cafeteria, a long row of specialized training rooms that were of particular interest to her, the ship’s store, and the Dracons’ private dining room. She frowned as they passed a door with a sign labeling it the Roar Room, wondering what that could be, but she didn’t question the steward who seemed intent upon getting her to her destination as quickly as possible. Luckily she wa
s in excellent physical shape so she didn’t arrive out of breath, even though a bit of tiredness from her first Dream Walk still lingered.

  The Dracons welcomed her graciously, putting her at ease without obvious effort as they always did. “I’m sorry that the Lobos aren’t here,” Lariah said. “Saige was worn out so they decided to dine in their room.”

  “I hope she’s feeling all right,” Glory said. She’d been shocked that a woman so far along in her pregnancy was joining them on a military expedition. Lariah had explained that it was necessary, and although she didn’t fully understand the reasons, it wasn’t her place, as a guest, to ask questions. “As tired as I was I can’t imagine how exhausted she must have been.”

  “She’s fine,” Lariah said with a laugh. “Her Rami wouldn’t allow her to be anything else.”

  “That’s an interesting word,” Glory said, surprising herself when she arched one brow playfully at Lariah. “Arima Saige Lobo did not strike me as the type of woman who would enjoy hearing that word overmuch.”

  “She’s not,” Lariah grinned, happy to see Glory in this mood. “When she’s not waddling around filled with babies, Saige is a warrior, like you, Glory. A very skilled one. I promise you, the Lobos use that word with her at their own peril.”

  “They wish only to see that she is well cared for,” Trey said mildly as he pulled a chair out for Glory. She sat with a polite nod of thanks, then nodded again, this time to Val at his silent offer of wine. “They are not yet over the scare she gave them a few months back.”

  “That was hardly her fault,” Lariah said as Garen seated her across from Glory. “They need to get over it.”

  “Of course it was not her fault, Sharali,” Garen said. “Nevertheless, I doubt they will get over it for quite some time.”

  “What happened?” Glory asked. “If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”

  “About three months ago it was discovered that the special prenatal vitamins manufactured for our women had been poisoned,” Garen said with a distinct growl in his voice.

  “Who would do such a thing?” she asked, shocked.

  “The Xanti of course,” Trey said, his usually cool blue-green eyes smoldering with barely leashed fury at the memory. “They have attacked our women, our children, and even our unborn, but they have yet to attack our warriors. That alone tells you much about them.”

  Glory nodded. That the Xanti were without honor was well known, but this seemed a new low even for them. “Saige took the poisoned vitamins?”

  “Yes, she did,” Lariah said. “Clan Jasani have an extremely fast regeneration rate, so it’s almost impossible to poison us. But Saige was five months along at the time, and her sons hadn’t yet developed that ability. The poison didn’t harm Saige, but it burned the babies, nearly killing them.” Lariah blinked rapidly to control the tears that threatened whenever she thought too closely on what Saige and her unborn sons had gone through.

  “They’re all right now though, aren’t they?” Glory asked, certain it was so, since Saige was still very pregnant.

  “Yes, thanks only to Dr. Honey,” Garen said. “She’s blessed with the ability to heal the unborn, a gift beyond measure to all of us.”

  “Are all Arimas so strongly gifted?” Glory asked.

  “All Arimas that we know of to date have some sort of psychic ability,” Lariah replied. “Whether psychic talent is a requirement for an Arima isn’t known for certain yet, but it seems to be so.”

  Glory frowned, wondering why they wouldn’t know something like that. She started to ask, but Garen spoke first.

  “Lariah told us that you were able to speak with the Tigren during your last Dream Walk,” he said. “How did that go?”

  “In some ways very well, and in others, not so well,” Glory replied, glad he’d opened this subject. “They don’t trust me because there are too many questions I cannot answer.”

  “Such as?” Lariah asked.

  “Jasan isn’t a world they’ve heard of, nor do they call themselves Jasani. They want to know why their people no longer live on their own world. They want to know how much time has passed since the Tigren were lost, and there’ve been only seven clans. They want to know how it’s possible that they could not know where they are, how a lot of time could have passed without their knowledge, and why we’d think the Xanti have them. They know that the Xanti come from a different galaxy, and they don’t understand how it’s possible that we could reach them in only a week’s time. In short, I don’t know the answers to most of the questions they ask of me.” Glory paused to sip her wine. She didn’t like having to ask for information that they hadn’t volunteered, but she didn’t have much choice.

  “If we’re going to help them, I first have to find out where they are and what’s happening to them. I’m probably going to need their cooperation for that, which means I need their trust. But, I can’t gain their trust because I can’t answer their questions.”

  Glory was surprised when Lariah leaned back in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at Garen. Her expression could only be described as mutinous, and Glory had to fight to hide her smile at the sight of the petite woman standing up to her enormous men without a hint of fear or trepidation.

  At that moment the door opened and several stewards entered with rolling carts filled with covered platters of food. Several minutes later, after they’d been served and Lariah assured the head steward that they’d call if they needed anything further, they were left alone again.

  When the door closed behind them, Garen picked up his wineglass, then put it down with a sigh. “There are some things we Jasani keep to ourselves, Glory, so please don’t take it personally. I see now that we’ll have to make an exception in this case and share those things with you.”

  “I would never ask for what is obviously private information if I didn’t believe it to be critically important, Highness. I swear that whatever you tell me will be revealed to no one other than the Tigren, and even then, only if I feel it’s necessary.”

  “We thank you for your promise, Glory,” Garen said. Then he glanced at Trey, who nodded, and Val, who shrugged lightly before nodding as well.

  “Our original home world was called Ugaztun,” Garen began.

  ***

  Several hours later Glory changed into a pair of silky lounging pants and matching camisole, precisely positioned her sword beside the bed, and slipped a couple of throwing knives beneath a pillow. She’d found some candles in the bathroom, two of which now filled the room with a flickering light and soothing herbal scent. There were no cushions in the room, so she picked up the mosaic from the bedside table where she’d left it, and climbed onto the bed. She moved to the center and sat cross legged, setting the mosaic in front of her.

  She was a little nervous about facing the Tigren again, which annoyed her. There was no reason to be nervous. They were just men. Very large, very beautiful men, granted, but still men. She was the one doing the Dream Walking, which meant she was in charge. If they did anything she didn’t like, she’d leave.

  With a short nod to herself, she rolled her shoulders, placed her hands on her knees, closed her eyes and reached for the Garra-Atea. She was again surprised at how quickly and easily she entered the meditative state. Even when she’d practiced meditation on a daily basis she’d never done it so quickly. She brushed aside the wayward thoughts and imagined the dream valley she’d created, pleased when it instantly appeared around her, perfect in every detail.

  She called the Tigren, who surprised her by appearing at the far end of the valley almost immediately. She forced herself to remain seated as they walked toward her in hopes it would be more difficult for one of them to try to kiss her. Kyerion’s knowing smile was irritating, but they kept their distance, lowering themselves to the grass as they had before.

  “We were worried about you, Glory,” Cade said. She was relieved that Cade was now as solid as Kirk, though of the three, Kyerion still appeared the most so
lid and the strongest.

  “Time passes strangely for us,” Kyerion said. “How long have you been gone?”

  “Two days and one night,” she replied. “I needed time to regain my strength.”

  “I thank you for your sacrifice, and your generosity,” Cade said, smiling at her in a way that made her want to smile back. “You are even more beautiful than I remember from your dreams, Glory. And I like your outfit very much.”

  Glory was so startled at being called beautiful that it took a moment for his last comment to register. When it did, she glanced down at herself, horrified to find that she’d forgotten to imagine herself fully dressed and armed. The pale blue silk lounge set was far more revealing than she was comfortable with, but she couldn’t attempt to change it now. If she tried and failed, she’d be even more embarrassed than she already was. She looked at Cade, swallowed hard, nodded her thanks for the compliment as though she appeared dressed in pajamas before men all the time, then forced herself to look at Kirk.

  “I now understand why you’re suspicious of me, Kirk,” she said. “I told Prince Garen that my inability to answer your questions was a problem, so he agreed to share with me a few things that aren’t public knowledge concerning the history of your people. The first thing I have to tell you will be difficult, and very shocking, to hear, I’m afraid.” She paused a moment, and took a deep breath. “Both Narrastia and Ugaztun have been destroyed.”

  “Destroyed?” Kirk exclaimed. “By whom? Why?”

  “It was long thought that Narrasti destroyed Ugaztun, and that Ugaztun destroyed Narrasti in return,” Glory said, trying hard to leave things like numbers of years out of it for the time being. “It is now known for certain that the Xanti destroyed both worlds.”