by Autumn Dawn
Jayems, who had been alerted only a bare hour before of the change in plans, grabbed Keilor. He informed him what was up as they hurried to the field between the arms of the citadel. They were waiting there as the Symbiont riders arrived.
There was only one woman in the group, and the men were without exception of warrior stock. All the males wore their hair cropped short, and even the woman’s blond hair was only long enough to touch her shoulders. They wore black pants of heavy cloth, boots and jackets of suede suitable for traveling at high velocities. Each rider wore a sheathed knife and a black gun and watched the Haunt with a wary expectancy. The leader, a man of only slightly above average height but tremendous presence, inclined his head to Jayems and Keilor.
“My name is Jackson.” He slid a glance at Mathin, who remained mounted on his snorting stag. “We were informed that you have a medical emergency we might be able to assist with?”
Jayems glanced aside at Keilor, leaving the decision up to him. The center of attention, Keilor eyed the new arrivals, their leader in particular, his nostrils flared to take in their scent. He snorted silently in self-disgust. As if that would help him any. He could read nothing in Jackson but fearlessness.
His eyes slid to Mathin, and with a glance and one sharp sign, Keilor let Mathin know he would answer for it if harm came to his wife. “She rests in the clinic,” he told Jackson with reluctance. “My wife tried to heal our cousin with the symbiont, but it poisoned her.”
Jackson dismounted in one easy motion. “We can help her, but we’ll have to use one of the big symbionts. It might be easier if she were brought outside, if that’s possible.”
“We will move to a courtyard closer to the citadel while Keilor goes to get her,” Jayems offered while his cousin strode away.
Keilor did not like this, and he fiercely wished to wrap his hands around Mathin’s throat for springing this on them. But what was he to do? Let Jasmine or the baby die because he couldn’t bring himself to trust a stranger? So far it had been their allies who had betrayed them.
“Jasmine,” he said, touching her cool forehead and smoothing back her hair. “I’ve found someone who can help you.”
Her eyelids fluttered. “Keilor...help her.”
He grit his teeth and tamped down on his concern. She was still delusional. “Rihlia is...fine, Dragonfly,” he said, skirting the fact that she was still in intensive care. She was alive, after all. “But we need to get you some help.” Careful not to jar her, he picked her up, blanket and all.
This had better work.
“The symbiont will not touch her as long as you do,” Jackson warned Keilor. He held out one hand. “Your choice.”
Keilor stared at Jackson’s shoulder as he fought the instincts that clamored at him not to let this stranger, this one-time enemy, touch his helpless woman.
Jasmine moaned and shivered as she burrowed against him in a vain search for warmth. Her symbiont hung loose on her wrists.
The symbiont riders winced, and the woman murmured something sympathetic.
Keilor’s face softened at the sight of Jasmine’s pain, and he placed her in Jackson’s arms.
She cried out, muttering something nearly incomprehensible about drugs and ‘only Keilor’, but Jackson ignored her, holding her firmly as he stepped up to his silver cycle. For a moment nothing happened. Then the giant symbiont flowed and completely enveloped Jasmine.
Keilor hissed and instinctively grabbed for his sword, stopped just shy of drawing it. Thin streaks of pale green and brown flowed out of Jasmine’s body and were absorbed into the large creature. It worked on her for several seconds and then withdrew, coalescing back into a blurred image of the silver cycle. It settled on the ground with a soft thump.
Jasmine opened her eyes, ascertained that the man holding her was a stranger, and twisted out of his arms. She shoved him away with surprising strength, considering her wobbly stance. “Who are you?” she demanded. A breeze teased her legs and she glanced down at herself with horror. Snatching up the blanket that had fallen away from the silver nightgown she wore, she whipped it around herself, demanding, “What’s going on? Where’s—Keilor!” she squealed, as her husband caught her up in a crushing hug. “Let me breathe!” She gasped, trying to create a little space between them for lung expansion.
His arms loosened, even though he did not let go. “I thank you,” he said hoarsely, looking over her head to Jackson, who inclined his head in acknowledgment.
“For what?” Jasmine demanded, turning around to see who he was talking to. Her frown turned to an expression of surprise when she caught sight of the cycles. “Hey! A motorcycle!” She took a step toward it. Keilor’s arms tightened a moment and then released her. “Cool,” she said in awe. She reached out to touch it and then withdrew her hand to glance at Jackson for permission.
Jackson did not hesitate, but his answering nod was noticeably curt. In light of that, Jasmine kept her hands to herself, but her circling inspection was no less thorough. “Nice,” she pronounced with approval and then, “How fast does it go?” with a gleam in her eye.
“Don’t even think it,” Keilor growled, taking her by the shoulders and steering her away from temptation. “This is Jackson,” he said, planting her firmly in front of the man she had pushed and ignored in favor of his symbiont. “His symbiont saved your life.”
Rattled at her lack of memory, Jasmine frowned and unthinkingly asked, “Why?” Keilor’s fingers tightened on her shoulders in disbelief.
Jackson’s left eyebrow twitched. “Good manners?” he suggested.
Jasmine put her fingers to her temple and rubbed, as if that might bring back the memory. “I don’t remember,” she muttered. “Just guns and...Rihlia!” she said, half turning as if to run to her friend. “She’s hurt!”
Keilor stopped her with an arm around her waist. “You already helped her, and she’s sleeping right now.” He grunted as her elbow connected with his sternum. “Jasmine! Be still,” he ordered, squeezing off her air with his arm until she quieted, panting. He glanced sharply at Jackson, who spread his hands in ignorance.
“I’ve seen it before,” one of the other Symbionts offered, stepping forward. Jackson introduced the stocky fellow as Ma-at. “It’s just the last of the poison working out of her system. A little sleep should clear her head.”
“Very well,” Keilor scooped up his uncooperative wife. “We’ll talk later,” he told Jackson, nodding his farewell. He headed for their room.
“I can walk,” Jasmine grouched, struggling and completely oblivious to their audience.
“Later,” Keilor answered. “Right now you’re going to take a nap. Then we’ll have a nice, long chat about manners....”
“So, what say we ditch these guys and see if we can’t go scare up a pizza?”
Leo, the lone female Symbiont in the council chamber, not counting Jasmine, stared at Jasmine, startled. There was a lull at the table around them as the men broke off their tense verbal sparring and peered at her.
Jasmine didn’t care. Ever since she’d woken up from her nap and joined the group in the council chambers, her temper had been slowly climbing.
The Symbionts wanted to open up negotiations for military cooperation with the Haunt. It seemed that the cities they’d constructed beyond the swamp lands were under attack by monsters from the East. Not only did they wish to drive the beasts off, they wanted to strengthen their position with the Haunt to ensure peace.
The Haunt princes who’d assembled at Jayems’ command weren’t adverse to peace, but they stubbornly refused to budge from the principal that isolation made good neighbors. Jayems himself remained silent as his Haunt peers dredged up ancient history about the bloody Symbiont Wars, as they called it, slapping down reason after ancient reason why the Symbiont nation was not to be trusted. Even Jackson’s impassive face was beginning to darken a fraction.
Figuring that it was either exit the place gracefully or run screaming from the room, stark raving ma
d, Jasmine decided to rescue the equally miserable and silent Leo while she was at it and leave the men to fight it out.
Dropping a quick kiss on Keilor’s lips and standing up, she told the crowd in general, “Gentlemen, it’s been fun, but I’m afraid that my feeble female mind has become dizzy with your dazzling intellect. Besides, I drank too much water,” she admitted. “So if you’ll excuse us....” Taking Leo’s arm before she could object, Jasmine half-dragged the young woman with her as she strode from the room.
“Have you ever seen such a bunch of idiots?” she muttered as soon as the doors
had closed behind them, drowning out the sound of obstinate male voices.
“Jackson is my brother,” Leo replied.
“I was referring to the Haunt.”
“Ah...well, in that case....” A suspicion of a smile crossed her face. “Perhaps I could be persuaded to agree.” She cast a sidelong glance at Jasmine. “How is it that you came to be matched with a Haunt, if I may ask?”
“A Haunt, huh? Sounds like you have little use for them.”
Leo turned her eyes to the hallway. “Our people have never known peace.”
“A non-answer if I ever heard one,” Jasmine observed, a little of her frustration seeping back. She hated this verbal sparring. Couldn’t they just skip it?
Leo must have perceived her annoyance, for she said, “I do not know these Haunt
anymore than they know me. For now I will try not to let my prejudice blind me.”
Cheered by that, Jasmine led Leo to the mud spa after collecting Casanova and a couple of bottles of juice from the cooler in her room. She directed Leo to sit by the waterfall so that neither the two Symbionts who’d discreetly followed them nor her own Haunt guard could hear what they spoke about.
Jasmine popped the cap on her own juice and took a swig, staring at the moving water. “So tell me, besides the fact that you’re Jackson’s sister, how is it that you’re the lone woman here? Isn’t it a bit unusual?”
There was a moment of tense silence. “I convinced the council that I would be a good choice,” Leo finally said. Jasmine just looked at her, daring her to evade the question. Leo sighed with disgust. “If you must know, it is because I was the one who followed you through the swamps, and thus the one most familiar with you.” At Jasmine’s raised brows, she added, “Your party was trespassing, and I was...curious. We do not often see strangers in our swamps, and the combination of a human woman among three male Haunts was most unusual. Unprecedented, in fact.” She took a long swallow of juice. “It’s due to my information that the Symbiont People decided that the time was right to approach the Haunt. It was thought that your presence might be an indicator of softening prejudice.”
“Hmm.” Jasmine scratched around Casanova’s nubby horns and his ears went limp with pleasure. It was something to do to avoid a reply. Politics, especially those involving herself, were never her favorite subject. Casanova folded himself down with a sigh and laid his head in her lap, closing his eyes in bliss. Would she ever be able to trust so easily? “But why did you want to come so badly?”
Leo stared at her boots, clutching her bottle. “I had my reasons,” she said.
Jasmine decided to let her keep one secret.
"My clan will not ally themselves with a parasite-laden pack of humans!" Tor Maphin, one of the assembled Haunt lords, shouted, half-rising from his seat.
Tilus, who was seated next to him, pulled him firmly back down, but his words were no more encouraging. "There has been peace between us for the past fifty years because of our segregation. The Haunt are strong enough to hold our own lands. If you are not, return to Earth."
The Ronin beside Jackson, Armatris, growled. Jackson quelled him with a look.
Keilor, who, like Jayems, had said very little until now, said mildly, "Even Haunt band together against a common enemy, or to trade, Tilus."
"Who should speak but the Haunt who's sired a half-breed abomination in the belly of his Sylph?" sneered Tor Maphin. "We shouldn't wonder that you'd take their side. You and Mathin the Mad, with his fool’s talk of alliances."
A muscle ticked in Keilor's jaw, but it was Jayems who said with cool challenge, "That Sylph is not only my cousin, Tor, but she saved my wife's life and the life of my child. Show some intelligence and cry peace."
Mathin said nothing, but his very posture breathed menace.
Tor Maphin looked away sullenly. "I withdraw my complaint." Still, the tension in the room did not abate, and this time it also centered around Keilor.
"If everyone has formed an opinion then I suggest that we adjourn this meeting for now. Any objections?" Other than some sullen mumbling from Tor Maphin, which he ignored, there was none. "Very well." Jayems rose, and the rest of the table rose with him. "As my guests,” he said, addressing the Symbionts, “you'll be sharing the meal with me. I'm certain that your journey has tired you, so I'll have you escorted to your rooms to refresh yourselves first."
Not until the council room was empty did Keilor allow a snarl to twist his lips. "Who made that mewling cub a council member?"
A wry smile twisted Jayems’ lips. “We knew well enough that this meeting might be worse than fruitless.”
Keilor crossed his arms. “There is truth in what Tilus says.”
Jayems stroked his fisted index finger with his thumb as he regarded Keilor impassively. “Perhaps. What of our own kind, though? Recent events have proven that they can be as treacherous as any foreign enemy. At this time I am not adverse to strengthening my clan with human ties. Your wife has proven they can be loyal.”
“It is possible that my wife is an exception,” Keilor murmured, unbending very little. “I am concerned that her delight at meeting others of her kind will weaken her judgment.”
“Maybe it will, for a time. It’s easy to trust in the familiar, but she is your wife now. She will listen to you.”
Keilor slanted him a look. “You think that she would accept it if I told her that I will not ally myself with the Symbionts?”
Jayems’ eyes slipped downward, conceding to Keilor’s very valid concern. The Symbionts had a very valuable ally in Jasmine, and no doubt knew it. “I know you’re in a difficult position, Keilor, but I will support you. I will not command the same from you, but....” He did not need to say what was already understood. Together they could stand firm against the rest of the Haunt, divided...division might be disastrous.
“I need to go find my wife,” Keilor muttered so that he wouldn’t have to answer Jayems. He knew what his ultimate, inevitable answer would be—the only one that would truly release him from the past, and possibly make him a traitor in the eyes of his people. But if that was what it took to secure the future for his family then so be it. He could do nothing less for his wife and his child to be. If he had to choose whom to protect, his family or his race, his race could go fend for themselves.
He was a family man.
“This is for you.” Keilor handed Jasmine a black box like the one that he wore on his belt. “It’s coded with your personal frequency.”
Jasmine took the summons box, lifting one eyebrow. “My, what lovely presents you bring me.”
He smiled a little. “Until I say otherwise, I want you to wear your gun every time you leave this room.” She opened her mouth, but he cut her off sternly, “Every time, Jasmine.”
She took a deep breath. “All right. I can just imagine how stupid I’m going to look at nine months pregnant, toting a gun....” Muttering, she took his hand and tugged him down to sit beside her on the bed. Since he remained tense, she rose on her knees behind him and began to massage the rock-like muscles in his shoulders. “Is this about the Ronin?” His muscles tensed under her hands, and she grimaced. At this rate she’d wear out before he did.
“Among other things.” He was silent for a moment. “Be careful. Just because they are human does not mean they might not sink to manipulation if they think they can get away with it.”
“I�
�m not completely stupid, you know,” she grumbled, pausing in her ministrations. “I think I can figure that out.”
Turning around, he took her hands in his. “You are not stupid, only ignorant of some of the dangers that we face, dangers that you now need to know about.” Careful to not to edit out even the worst of Tor Maphin’s insults, though he wanted to, he repeated what had been said at the council. She needed to know.
She took it better than he’d expected.
“That homely sack of dog puke!” she exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. “He’s lucky you didn’t carve him up into stew meat.”
“I was tempted,” he said with a quick smile. “But now you see why I am concerned. Tor is not our only enemy.” His gaze softened, and he stroked her cheek. “I will keep you safe.”
Chapter 15
Safety was overrated.
“You are certain your husband would not object to this?” Ma-at asked again, a frown marring his stolid face. He glanced at Isfael, who was standing nearby with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face, but who made no move to stop her. No support there. He tried again, “He did not seem pleased by the idea when we first arrived.”
Jasmine slung a leg over the Symbiont cycle and grabbed Leo’s waist. She’d practically begged to ride the cycle, humbling herself with shameless determination, and she was not about to miss this chance. “That was then, this is now. Besides, Keilor’s an understanding kind of guy.”
Isfael snorted and rolled his eyes. Ma-at and the Symbiont Scorpio, who’d accompanied Leo, frowned, but before they could do anything, the silver cycle whipped tendrils around its riders legs, and Leo gunned the throttle.
Just in time to shoot past the angry form of her husband and a startled Jackson.
Jackson watched the pair without expression. “Leo is a good rider, her Symbiont dependable.”