Wren got a far away expression. “Me too.” She sighed and snapped out of it. “Where’s Sarai?”
“In the bath, she had the intense need to wash after you did that ‘charge’ thing.”
Wren sobered. “Oh. Well, Cassandra’s instructions were pretty explicit.”
He nodded. “Let’s go.” He led her back to their quarters. “Sarai?” He called ahead.
“Here,” Sarai answered.
They walked into the suite, Sarai had the balcony doors open and was leaning against the rail with the morning sun pouring down on her. Dressed in a thin bath robe, the orange light glistened on her damp skin, making her silvery hair seem as though on fire.
“Ah, Wren,” Sarai said.
“Is something wrong?” Bannor asked.
She turned and put her back to the rail. “I was just made a fool of in front of my parents. I’m still—stinging.” She let out a breath. She focused on the blonde savant. “Wren, this ‘charge’ thing, have you ever had it done to you?”
Bannor followed Wren as she walked out onto the balcony. She leaned against the rail and glanced back at Sarai. “Lots. More than I’d like. It’s used to keep someone going when they’d otherwise be too exhausted and hungry to move. In Gladshiem, we used Idun’s fruit the same way.”
“Tell me,” Sarai said in a speculative tone. “You know this Cassandra. Could she be simply exaggerating to take advantage of my parents?”
The blonde savant pressed her lips to a line. “I think she overstated the difficulty in helping you—the Felspars have access to magic that there just isn’t words to describe. She was serious as dragon-fire about you and the baby dying. She is totally into the mothers and babies thing, she has like eight kids of her own and takes care of a bunch more.”
Sarai tilted her head to one side. “Eight?”
Wren nodded. “It’s really complicated. I lived with them for a several seasons and I was just starting to get the whole who’s-related-to-whom thing straight. Anyways, she’s an expert on babies—especially special babies—trust me on that. There’s several immorts in the family so they know how to deal with this sort of thing.”
Sarai laced her fingers. “I see.” She focused at Bannor. “Do you trust Cassandra?”
Bannor leaned against the rail. “You mean is she trustworthy?”
She nodded.
He drew a breath. “Well, she has her own agendas, but I’ve never met a mage of any skill who didn’t…” He let his voice trail off.
“And?” Sarai prodded. “My One, I’ve learned to trust your judgments implicitly.”
“Well,” he frowned. “I am a little uncomfortable with her.”
“In what way? Does she have any malicious intent?”
“Oh, no.” He shook his head. How did he put it? “She’s intensely interested in us. She wants to, ummm, study us I guess. Well, us and Daena. So, she’s maneuvering to get as much chance to do that as possible.”
Sarai’s brow furrowed. “Study?” She narrowed glowing violet eyes and glanced at Wren. “So, what was all that blather about vacations?”
“To her that is a vacation,” Wren said. “Bannor’s right though. When we first met—she wanted to study me too.”
“Well, I’m not eager let myself or my child be her research subjects.”
“I wasn’t either,” Wren answered. She sniffed. “I didn’t get my way though. Of course, I wasn’t the princess of Malan… that gives you a bit more pull than I had.” She leaned close to Sarai. “With your mother being a mage though, I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t get ordered to go along with it.”
Sarai’s eyes widened. “She wouldn’t…”
“Oh yes she would, your mother loves magic, and Cassandra has an endless supply of bribes and justification.” She put a hand on Sarai’s shoulder. “Just brace yourself for it.”
Sarai looked down at Wren’s hand. The way she did it drew attention to it. When she looked down into Wren’s eyes there was a question but she didn’t voice it.
Wren did. “Is there something wrong? You look ready to bite me.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarai responded. “Maybe perhaps you’re enjoying my sudden dependence on you a little too much…”
Wren stared at Sarai for a moment and bit her lip. “Okay, it’s true, I am savoring it a bit. I don’t think you’d be any different.”
Sarai sniffed. “What about the part about how you made it feel?”
“Oh that.” Wren shrugged.
“Don’t shrug at me!” Sarai pounded her fist on the railing. “That was unconscionable! Especially in front of all those people!”
Wren held up her hands. “Sarai, believe me, I just did the charge straight… Errr, without any embellishments—I’m not even sure I know how to do that.”
Sarai folded her arms, voice dropping, tone incredulous. “Really?”
“Honest.”
She glanced at Bannor. He hated being a referee. He sighed. “She’s telling the truth.”
“Sarai, I would never disrespect you that way. I know what it feels like. I can try to teach Bannor, but it won’t happen overnight. You don’t want him doing it unless he has precise control and understanding of what’s going on. Cassandra knew I’d been through enough bad experiences with it that I would be extra careful.”
“Bad experiences?”
Wren nodded. “It can be used as a weapon.”
Sarai’s brow furrowed. “How is that?”
“By deliberately enhancing the sensations—they can be increased to the point it makes you pass out—or in my case, someone braces you so you can’t pass out and they… Well, let’s just say it’s made me very self-conscious about not doing it even accidentally to someone else.”
Sarai’s brow furrowed, her irritated expression changing. She leaned toward Wren, head tilting to one side. “It was really bad for you, I can…feel it.”
Wren nodded.
His fiancé let out a breath. “I guess I have to do it. So, let’s get it over with. Maybe if sit up it won’t be as bad.”
“Right here at the rail is good,” Wren said. “It won’t be as bad as that first time anyway.”
“You’re certain?”
“Positive,” Wren answered. “Just face the rail. I don’t know why, the people who do it say the small of the back is the best place.”
Sarai complied after a moment’s hesitation.
Wren stood behind her and pressed the heel of her palm against Sarai’s spine. “Ready?”
Sarai nodded.
Wren composed herself, closing her eyes and tilting her head back. The same glow shone through her closed eyelids and her skin turned golden. At the same moment Sarai rose up on her toes, sucking a breath.
This time Wren drew away after only a dozen heartbeats.
“Uhhm,” Sarai let out. She looked back at Wren, biting her lip. She was breathing hard. She just stared at her.
Wren shook her head. “Sorry.”
Bannor stared at his wife-to-be. Her threads were confusing. The clearest emotion she was feeling was frustration. Wren was embarrassed. He knew Sarai loved magic, she lived to feel it channeling through her body… It struck him then what the real outrage and questions were about… She wanted more.
“Are you all right, Star?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yes. It leaves me feeling quite strong.” She straightened up and rolled her shoulders. She turned her head and furrowed her brow. “Can you do that to yourself?”
Wren nodded. “There’s a lot of pitfalls. Used too often you build up a tolerance or worse—a dependence.”
“Addiction?” Sarai asked.
“Right. Still, amongst the Felspars, I understand they use it… ummm, recreationally.”
Sarai’s eyes widened. “Yes,” she drew the word out. “I can imagine.”
“Is the feeling that strong?” he asked. “You both make it sound very—provocative.”
“Sexual, is what you meant to say,” Sarai s
aid.
He frowned. “Uh.”
“It is not precisely that,” she continued. “It is disturbingly close to it however.”
Wren’s cheeks colored.
He decided it was best not to explore the ideas that suddenly occurred to him. He focused on what was most important. “What about the baby? Can it hurt her?”
“I don’t think so, especially since Cassandra didn’t really caution me.” Wren said becoming serious again. “I guess it’s just another form of nourishment. Most of the power is probably just getting wasted. Without special adaptations, human and elf bodies just don’t have much storage for magic.” She gestured to him. “Because we’re savants, you and I have more ‘space’ in our bodies for power, a kind of buffer so we don’t get flattened by using our nolas.”
“Okay, maybe this is a more practical question. If Sarai needs this ‘charge’ thing six times a day. How do we do that?”
“It’s only a day or so,” Wren said. She looked around the giant space. “You’ve probably got room for me somewhere in here. I think I can lose a few minutes of sleep for the guy who got me out of Hel.” She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Besides, if I didn’t volunteer, I might find Kalindinai standing over me with a switch.”
“It’s not funny,” Sarai growled. “It’s embarrassing.”
“You think you have it bad,” Wren grinned. “Imagine being Daena when Kal asks her to nurse your baby.”
“I don’t like that either! This is our baby!” Sarai growled. “I don’t—” She lowered her voice. “I don’t want half the kingdom involved.”
Wren shrugged. “What did you expect? You got pregnant while you were immortalized—you did it on purpose. The father is the most powerful kind of savant there is and you’re a noble blood elf. Don’t tell me you didn’t anticipate problems.”
Sarai rubbed her forehead. “I guess I did. I—” She looked up at Bannor. “I apologize, my One.”
He sighed. “It’s not like we weren’t eventually going to have a child.” He stepped over and touched her cheek. “What’s done is done. I wish I understood what you were trying to accomplish when you did it. Did you want an immortal elf? An elven savant? Having these powers has its advantages, but the downside is being a target for everything with a weapon…”
“I’m with you there, Brother,” Wren said. “I was the daughter of a very powerful Baron and his even more powerful wife, and my childhood and that of my birth brother was turned inside out because we were savants.”
“Hecate is dead,” Sarai said in an obviously self-conscious tone. “It’s done now at any rate—there’s no going back.”
Bannor sighed. “I’m sorry, Star.”
She frowned at him. “What are you sorry about?”
He rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know—I feel—well… responsible. I don’t want you to be hurt.”
“My One, it takes two to make a baby. I more than encouraged you.” She sighed. She looked to Wren. “Until we can come up with something better, I guess we can make arrangements to bring your things here.”
Wren nodded.
“Bannor?” Sarai asked. “Are you—?”
He held up a hand. He focused on responding.
He drew a breath. “Lady Dulcere is mind speaking to me,” he said. “She says she and Corim can teach me now.”
“Go, my One,” Sarai said. “I’m fine.” She glanced at the blonde savant. “I think Wren has me in hand.”
Wren rolled her eyes. “If there’s any problems, Bannor, you’re just a thought away.”
He came and gave Sarai a kiss. She put a hand behind his neck and her skin tingled against his. She hugged him tight. “I’ll be okay, really. I feel much better now.”
Bannor pulled away and gave her hands a squeeze. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You better be, we have lunch with Mother, remember?”
He winced. “Right.”
Bannor closed his eyes and focused on the Kriar female.
With no warning, Bannor felt the air around him rush. In a flash, the surroundings of Sarai’s chambers and the balcony looking over Green Run were replaced by a smaller suite into which morning light was pouring.
Dressed in a white shift, Dulcere reclined on a bench in the middle of the shaft of illumination. The sun gleamed on her gold skin. Her long hair had been braided and looped so it hung down to the floor. She had her eyes closed and she looked to luxuriously relaxed. Apparently, the effort to bring him across that distance was so inconsequential she barely needed to focus.
“My thanks,” he said, feeling cautious. She seemed so comfortable. The fact that with barely a thought she could find and affect him a thousand paces away reminded him of how truly powerful this creature was. His being alone with her was reminiscent of the time he was trapped with Hella. However Dulcere did not have nearly so daunting an aspect.
She swung a hand toward the bed, still not opening her eyes.
He sat down on the bed and leaned forward. “Quite well, milady. I’ve had a battering experience or two myself.”
Dulcere answered.
“Think nothing of it.”
She drew a breath and laced her fingers across her stomach.
“What about Corim, isn’t he supposed to be here?”
“And this will work for me?”
As he asked the question he heard the sound of elven pipes being played in the other room. The mellow rise and fall of the breathy instrument murmured through a familiar melody—the same one he needed to play for the wedding.
Dulcere tilted her head back toward the sound. She opened one eb
ony eye, the stars that winked in them apparent even in the bright sunlight. She sniffed and closed her eyes.
“Lady Dulcere, are you all right?”
“On this learning thing, you said there were a few ways.”
“Idiom set?”
“Oh.” Bannor responded. “So, what are these other ways?”
“It seems that Cassandra has everything.”
“A living machine?”
Reality's Plaything 3: Eternal's Agenda Page 35