by Autumn Dawn
“You’re crazy!” Raziel hissed, grabbing Mathin by the shoulder. He spun him around. Their faces only inches apart, he ground out, “The storms are coming, Mathin. Think! I know you’re desperate, but—”
Mathin jerked away and readied his gear. Bloodlight had already been saddled. “You’re in charge until we get back.”
“If you get back.”
Mathin rounded on him. “It’s the only chance we have, Raziel! Would you have me stay here and lose the baby?” He’d thought she was taking precautions. He’d assumed it because she’d said she wasn’t ready for children when they’d talked before the wedding. He bitterly cursed his assumptions now. He should have asked. Just because he was uncomfortable talking about the subject didn’t give him the right to jeopardize his wife’s health.
“It could happen anyway.” Raziel was brutally honest. “You don’t know that the Ronin will even help you.”
“They will.”
Frustrated by Mathin’s refusal to consider the cost, Raziel got in front of him. “What should I tell your people?”
Mathin looked him in the eye. “Tell them that I love my wife more than my life. Tell them I will come back, and my wife will have a healthy son.”
Shaken by the resolution in his eyes, Raziel let Mathin pass. Eyes downcast, he considered what he would need to hear if it were Matilda and his child who were ill. “Mathin?”
He turned around.
“My prayers will follow you.”
For the first time since Mathin had heard about the baby, he smiled.
Andrea didn’t remember much about the journey. Cold rain, impressions of big trees and the sensation of riding were all she knew. Mathin pressed food on her she didn’t want, fussed and sometimes shouted at her until she ate almost all of it just to ease his mind. Thunder often split the sky, and strong winds frequently made travel hazardous. When the bad storms struck he would take them to what shelter he could. Sometimes there was none to be had and they made camp where they could. At such times she could hear Mathin praying.
His wife might have been too foggy to suffer much from their travels, but Mathin wasn’t so lucky. He lived in constant fear that fierce winds would topple a tree or send a flying limb into Andrea, killing her. Keeping himself alive was almost as important. She wouldn’t survive without him.
He’d never cared so much for his own well-being.
Six days into their journey he picked up signs of the Ronin.
“Mathin?” Andrea lifted her pale face and peered at him through the mists.
Blasted swamps! If it wasn’t raining on them it was foggy. “I’m here.” He moved to where she sat slumped on Bloodlight and touched her legs. “I found traces of the Ronin, my love.” He smiled for her. “Soon you’ll get to meet them.”
“Good.” A ghost of her old grin tried to surface. “Tell them I said they need to be more welcoming of guests.”
“You tell them.” He mounted behind her and got Bloodlight moving. “You’ll be seeing them yourself soon.”
“Yeah.” Her voice was barely audible.
He wrapped his arms around her and moved faster.
Mathin had felt the eyes on them for a good hour by the time he stopped that night. All but unconscious, Andrea lolled in his arms as he dismounted and gently lifted her down. Careful not to jar her, he lay her down on a tarp he’d tossed down on a patch of high ground and covered her with a blanket. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered, and kissed her. He stroked her cheek and stood up.
Looking up in the trees, he called out, “All right, come out. Don’t you know better than to stalk a Haunt upwind?”
Feminine laughter echoed through the swamps. A line was cast down from the heights and moments later a woman slid down. Hands on hips, the tall blond surveyed him with a crooked grin. “Mathin. Finally found yourself a woman, have you?”
In no mood to jest, Mathin nevertheless found a faint smile. Leo had visited the Haunt with her brother a couple of years ago, the first—and last—diplomatic visit of the Ronin to the Dark Lands. He didn’t remember her being so outspoken.
She was armed with a holstered gun, secured by a strap to her thigh. A knife was sheathed at her side and she had a nasty-looking rifle over her shoulder. “My wife, Andrea,” he said gravely. “My human wife.”
Leo’s violet eyes widened. She looked at Andrea in surprise. “Another charmer? Is she from Jasmine’s world? How…” She trailed off and frowned, the scarred brown leather of her jacket creaking as she moved closer. “She’s sick.” She gently pulled away a corner of the woven blanket, looking for wounds.
“She’s pregnant.” Mathin clenched his teeth. “Our medic says she will lose the baby.”
Stricken, Leo looked at him. They might not know each other well, but Mathin could see her sympathy for him. “You brought her to us?”
Almost desperate, now that hope was so close, he nodded. “Your people saved Jasmine.” Jasmine almost died after healing a Haunt. Her symbiont absorbed too many toxins and hadn’t been able to bleed them off except through Jasmine’s system. It had taken one of the Ronin’s big symbionts to heal her.
Leo blew out a breath and let the blanket fall. “Yeah, but…” She shook her head. “I can try.” She sat back on her boot heels. “My symbiont’s off hunting right now, and we’re a little far a field. We’ll have to wait until it comes back before I can do anything.” She squinted at the gray sky. “It’ll be night soon. We should move to higher ground. Can you bring her?”
“Lead the way.”
Leo’s idea of higher ground was to lead them to the ruins of an ancient temple. “This is a good place to wait out the storms, if there are any tonight.” She hacked through the vines covering the lower entrance with her machete. “Snake spawned vines! I just cleared these last month. They grow faster than a nest full of rodents.”
“Doesn’t anyone else come here?” Even in the gloom Mathin could still make out the flat-topped pyramid’s vegetation covered outlines.
She shook her head and sheathed her blade. They stood under the shadow of a deep alcove made of huge blocks. “No one else likes to come here, especially my brother. He doesn’t like to be reminded that our enemy might be anything other than savages.” Her lip curled.
Mathin made Andrea comfortable on his bedroll. She was barely breathing. To distract himself, he asked, “You don’t believe that?”
Her eyes moved to Andrea, watched the way he stroked her cheek. “My people would prefer to believe that you are nothing but monsters, too.”
He snorted as he remembered certain things about Leo. One hand dangled over his knee as he sat on the ground. The other played restlessly in Andrea’s hair. “Would you mate with a Haunt?” At her expression of horror, he laughed. “Perhaps you aren’t as unbiased as you’d like to think?”
Leo rolled her eyes and sat down. “Maybe not, but at least I don’t feel like shooting every Haunt I see. Some of you seem decent.” She pulled a small lantern out of her pocket and activated it. No bigger than a man’s fist, the perforated metal ball nevertheless put out a surprising amount of light.
Expanding on her views, she leaned back on one hand and gestured to the three of them. “Are we not peaceful enough right now? You even love your wife, if I’m not mistaken?”
“I love her.”
She nodded. “You see? It can be done.” Her eyes shadowed as she stared at the lantern. “War is just a waste of life.”
Reluctant to pry, Mathin held his peace. Besides, he agreed with her. Too bad more of their people didn’t think the same.
A swishing sound brought him to his feet, his hand on his sword.
“It’s all right.” Leo stood as well, one hand cautioning him to wait. Out of the trees came a silver hover-bike. Its edges somewhat indistinct, the gleaming silver being slowed as it came abreast of Leo. It slowly settled to the ground with something like a soft sigh.
Leo grinned. “Ate well, did you?” She stroked the seat. “C
ome. I have a sickly friend I’d like you to meet.”
The great symbiont gave a huge sigh and sagged.
“Hey.” Leo’s voice was stern. “It won’t kill you.”
With a soft growl, the entity went to investigate Andrea, giving Mathin a wide berth. Symbionts never touched a Haunt if they could help it.
Half-heartedly, the front part of the bike nudged Andrea. A tendril formed and extended, delicately brushed over her arm. When it withdrew, she opened her eyes.
“Where am I?”
Mathin smiled in relief as the symbiont moved back and parked at the edge of the fire. “How do you feel?”
She sat up with difficulty. “Better, but not one hundred-percent.”
“You won’t until your symbiont regrows.” Leo frowned. “How did you lose half of it, anyway?”
“She gave half to another human,” Mathin answered for her. “What’s important now is how long will it take to regrow?”
Leo shook her head. “A season? Longer? Who can say? I’m not a medic, but I’ll wager the baby will strain her system and the symbiont.”
“Can she get a new one?” At Leo’s look of horror, he demanded, “What?”
“You can’t just switch symbionts like you’d change your pants! It would be murder.”
“Andrea would die?”
“I don’t know, but the symbiont would for sure. Their systems are far too integrated now. Just give it time. It will regenerate.”
Mathin glanced at Andrea. “We don’t have time.”
Leo chewed the inside of her lip. “I could take her home until the birth.” She frowned at him. “You couldn’t come. My brother would never allow it.”
“Could you guarantee her safety?”
“I should hope we aren’t so backward as to allow harm to come to a pregnant woman or her baby,” Leo muttered. “Besides, she’s human and you’re not, and less likely to goad anyone into a fight.” When he glowered at her she added, “Our men are very protective of our women. You should hear what I have to put up with every time I ‘run off’ as my brother puts it.” She tossed a small rock into the bushes. “It’s no wonder I dislike males.”
“I don’t like this, Mathin.” Andrea’s nails were practically digging into his hand. “I don’t want to have this baby without you.”
Mathin kissed her knuckles. “I know.” He stroked the back of her hand with his thumb. The idea of not being able to communicate with her was agonizing. “If you come back with me…” He didn’t have to say it. She would lose the baby and maybe her life.
She closed her eyes. “It’s three months until the rains are over, right?”
He drew in a shuddering breath. “Yes. But it’s at least eight months until the birth.”
She pressed his hand to her trembling lips. “Maybe the symbiont will grow back by then?” She brightened a little. “I could come home then.”
“We might be able to manage that. Or…” Leo waggled her booted foot. “Depending on how well she gets, I might be able to bring her back to you after the rains and stay a bit to see that all is well.”
“Really?” Andrea perked up. “That would be great!”
“One thing at a time,” Leo cautioned. “In the morning I’ll take you to my brother.” Her smile was lopsided. “Just to be safe, I think I’ll introduce you as a sick woman I found wandering in the swamps. Your husband died while trying to bring you to safety when the Beasts overran your town. You weren’t used to the swamps and you need a safe place to stay. How’s that?”
Andrea frowned. “I was separated from my husband. I don’t even like to pretend he’s dead.”
“Whatever.” Leo stretched out on her now-flattened symbiont. The creature had become a silver bed of sorts. “Anything’s better than being the wife of a Haunt. Especially that one.”
CHAPTER 11
“What did she mean when she said, ‘Especially that one’?” Andrea asked the next morning. Leo had already left, saying she needed a ride and that she’d be back in an hour. Andrea thought it had been sweet of her to give them time alone.
Swamp birds called greetings to each other in the early morning light as Mathin stared at the dark clouds on the horizon. “My father fought in the Symbiont Wars.” His jaw tightened. “He was one of those rare Haunt who had no respect for his wife, and he hated me.” He was silent a long moment. Hatred was a mild term for the active viciousness his father had spewed on his family. “No one was sorry to see him go to war. Even though I fought in it as well, I managed to avoid him most of the time. I only heard the rumors of what he became.”
She waited until she could stand it no longer. “And that was?”
He turned to her, his face full of disgust for the man who’d been his father. “A rapist and killer of women and children. A man who delighted in torture.” His lip curled in an unpleasant smile. “They still speak of him today in hushed whispers.”
So that was what all the mystery was about. At last she understood. Andrea struggled to stand up. “You’re not your father, Mathin.”
He knelt beside her, eased her back down. “No. I’m far luckier. I have you.”
Throat tight, she gripped his hand. “Don’t say it like that. You’re not your father, no matter what.”
“I’m not. I know.” He smiled at her, stroked her hair. “It’s okay.”
About to cry, she curled her hand around the back of his head and drew him near. “One last kiss.”
“Not until I take my last breath,” he swore, and kissed her.
Roughly an hour passed before Mathin’s eyes moved to the southeast. In moments Leo reappeared, riding on her symbiont cycle. She parked in front of Andrea. “Ready to go?”
Andrea swallowed hard, but nodded.
Mathin helped her up, settled her on the bike. “I’ll be thinking of you every minute.” He gently hugged her. With his chin on top of her hair, he gave himself a moment to control the tears he felt and that she shed so freely.
“Ah-hem.” Leo shifted, made a slight face. “She’s not dropping off the face of the world, Haunt. I’ll look after her.”
He gave her a look. “I’ll be waiting.”
Leo snorted and mounted up. “You’re welcome.”
“Leo?” He waited until she looked up. “Thank you. You’ll never lack for hospitality in my house.”
She nodded and gripped her bike’s bars. “I’ll remember that.”
For the first time, Andrea felt well enough to notice the swamp around them. Eager to take her mind off Mathin, she focused on the details of the swamp. Moss-hung ancient trees with huge aerial roots surrounded the marshy, bug-infested bog. They traveled about two feet off the ground, and their speed was such that she didn’t have time to study the local flora and fauna. The thing that made the biggest impression on her was the complete lack of civilization. They covered miles and didn’t see a single soul. “How far is it to your village?”
“Another hour. Why?” Leo looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“It’s so desolate. How do you make a living here?”
Leo laughed. “We eat what doesn’t eat us.” At Andrea’s wary silence, she added, “We farm and hunt the swamp. We mine the minerals here. Many of our technologies are deliberately kept low-tech and sustainable, however. We use wood, natural fiber, stone, metal and leather instead of synthetics or chemicals, and we still make our soaps with fat and lye. Many of our lights and heat sources are oil or wood.”
Fat and lye? Wood stove cooking? Andrea was dismayed. Even the Haunt had something like electricity. “Tell me you don’t use outhouses,” she begged. Visions of flies and drafty perches danced in her head.
“Hardly.” Leo banked the bike around a large tree. “We don’t pollute our waters.”
Maybe it was just Andrea, but Leo sounded just a teensy bit self-righteous. “So what do you do instead?”
“Compost.”
Oh. Ick! It took a full minute for Andrea to get up the nerve to inquire further, but sh
e had to know. “So, um, what becomes of this compost?” Tales of China’s night soil-caused epidemics danced in her head. She fervently prayed that the Ronin didn’t spread raw sewage on their fields, too.
Leo’s expression in the mirror—really little more than highly “polished” metal—was incredulous. “We use it on our food crops.” Andrea must have blanched, for she added as if to a small child, “The composting kills any pathogens and bacteria, silly. It’s far safer than allowing untreated waste to seep into the ground water and sicken us all.”
“Ah.” Admittedly unfamiliar with the entire concept, Andrea decided to reserve judgment. But just in case…”You don’t eat your veggies raw, do you?”
It didn’t take very long to arrive at Leo’s village. Andrea stared in amazement; many of the houses had been built in the spreading branches of the huge grove of trees. Some stone structures had been built underneath—well-maintained residences with stone tile roofs, fanciful waterspouts on the gutters and scalloped trim. But by far the most numerous buildings were perched in the trees. “Does it flood here often?”
Leo parked in front of one of the stone residences and dismounted. “Often enough. Here, let me help you.”
Forced to swallow her automatic refusal when a wave of dizziness assailed her, Andrea nodded her head.
One hand firmly under Andrea’s elbow, Leo pushed open the carved door to the building and strode inside. “Healer! Got a customer for you. Rest here.” She eased Andrea down on a red, leather-covered bench. When the healer didn’t show himself immediately, Leo shouted, “Healer? Are you in?” and went in search of him, calling over her shoulder to Andrea, “Be right back.”
Never one in a hurry to visit with a doctor, Andrea was content to wait and look.
There was no receptionist in the stone room, just a fireplace with a clear panel in front of it. It could have been glass, but it wasn’t stained with smoke. An enormous, rainbow-hued snakeskin hung to one side of the fireplace; another in black and red graced the other side. A brilliant woven rug had been laid before the fire, with comfortable red leather couches flanking it. Various weapons hung on the walls and from the bare wooden beams overhead, along with all manner of herbs and drying foodstuffs.