Three Worlds 01 - Seduce Me In Dreams (19 page)

The small troop that came through the foliage was exactly that—small. Or, rather, young.

There were four of them, including Kith. One was a tiny girl, her features elfin and as fragile as a pixie‟s. Most outstanding was a cape of white and ash blond hair that nearly reached her knees, and this even though it was braided. Lasher could see it swinging behind her with her forward progress, and several thin, long braids with blue beads worked into them were swinging free from the rest of it. She clutched a bundle that was nearly as big as her entire torso; both arms were wrapped tightly around it. Lasher could make out little else about her. He had never seen anyone so petite—five feet tall at most and looking as though she could use some of Lasher‟s mother‟s Uhauh stew to put some meat on her. It wasn‟t until she was a bit closer that he was able to see the angelic baby blue of her large eyes, their color announced by the backdrop of mocha-colored skin and the accents of the blue beads in her hair.

Lasher couldn‟t explain it, but he had the strangest sensation of familiarity as he looked at her. He knew it was impossible, knew for certain that they had never met, but he couldn‟t shake the feeling.

He realized then that Kith had chosen to fortify himself with males, in addition to the single girl child. Lasher‟s lips twitched in amusement. Did Kith think that these young ones could fight against even their diminished ranks? Had he learned nothing in his short time with ETF officers? Although it wasn‟t until then that Lasher realized that Justice was not with them, and he wondered what had happened to the pilot.

The taller of the two new males was also clearly the eldest—older even than Ravenna, Lasher realized upon closer inspection. He was a full-grown man, broad in the shoulder though tending toward the same lean athletic build that seemed to characterize their people. He was firm and healthy, evidently used to exercise and—Lasher guessed—hardship. There was something about the roughness of his features that announced this to the worlds. He was about the same height as Kith, but what truly stood out was the shocking contrast of his black and white hair.

There was no rhyme or reason to it, it seemed. It was long in back and shorter in front, and the hanks of color were in random blocks of white and black, each distinct and not blending in with the other even where they met.

The other male was younger than Kith. He was a bit shorter than the other boys, but he was broader in his frame. He was also heavier, although Lasher couldn‟t call him fat. He seemed densely built, solid, and perhaps even strong. Lasher couldn‟t tell right off. His hair was an intriguing rust and gold color, the gleam of the loose curls brightly catching the sunlight. His light brown eyes appeared gold as well, probably because of the highlights of his hair and the swarthy tan of his skin.

They each wore a tunic and trousers that were neat and well made. The garments were trimmed in expensive threads and decorated with Delran platinum discs and chains. They wore these with the comfort of dismissive experience, as though they thought little to nothing of the valuable baubles. Even Kith had changed from the soiled tunic he‟d worn since the escape from the prison. Only the girl wore anything else. She was adorned in a multi-tiered necklace made up of many flat blue speckled stones. The stones had been smoothed into glossy squares, but they didn‟t seem to have the glow of precious gems. Delran platinum linked the stones in an upside-down pyramid, from wide around her throat to a single dangling chip between her breasts.

The platinum had to be the most valuable part of the entire ornament. It was unique and beautiful, if a little gaudy to Lasher‟s eye.

But she wasn‟t here to be judged for her fashion sense, he acknowledged as they broke into the small area that had become increasingly trampled by their activity.

“Where is Justice?” Lasher asked.

He didn‟t miss that the girl nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke. The reaction made him suspicious. What did she have to hide? Was Justice okay?

“She remained behind,” Kith said quickly. “She wished to guard the girls, since all of the men were coming to help.”

“This is all of the men in your temple?” Ender asked with surprise.

“Of course. Men don‟t have much power,” the girl said with a matter-of-fact shrug.

The statement, so clearly innocent and misinformed, made Ender laugh in a loud guffaw.

The girl rapidly blushed to the roots of her fair hair and beyond. Charmed enough to take pity on her, Lasher waved Ender to silence.

“Greetings to you all. I am Lieutenant Commander Masin Morse, but everyone calls me Lasher. You can take your pick of whatever name suits you—I answer to most of them. This is Arms Master Rush Blakely, but we call him Ender.”

“This is my sister and our healer, Ophelia,” Kith returned graciously. “This is Domino.”

He gestured to the obvious choice of the black-and-white-haired man, making Lasher wonder if that strange hair coloring had been just as obvious at birth. “This is Fallon,” Kith finished.

“Thank you all for your assistance. Please, Ophelia, your patients await you,” Lasher invited warmly, holding out an arm and gesturing her forward. He smiled at her when two spots of color burned her cheeks, but her eyes had already fallen to her upcoming duty. It allowed her to overcome her shyness and move forward into his care.

Lasher led her directly to Bronse.

Ophelia saw her patients lying together, and she couldn‟t suppress her cry of dismay. Her sister lying lifeless and wounded was a shock, and it took all of her will to turn away from her to the one who was obviously more in need of her attention. She kneeled hurriedly beside the large male, dropping her pack into the soft bed of leaves and ferns on the forest floor. Nibbling anxiously on her nail as she looked over the soldier, she took in a soft, sniffing breath through her nose. She leaned cautiously closer and repeated the sniff, this time taking in a deep breath.

She jerked back, her nose wrinkling with obvious distaste.

“There are pollutants in this man‟s body,” she accused. Then her china blue eyes widened to the size of large coins. “And in my sister!”

“The drugs,” Kith clarified when Lasher looked at her with puzzlement.

“Yes. Narcotics. For pain.”

“I see. They must be removed.”

“I can take off the patches and they will be diluted within a half hour,” Lasher said. “But they will be in tremendous pain once I do. Why can‟t you just—?”

“Masin, correct?” she interrupted, her big eyes taking him in as her head tilted to the side.

“Yes …”

“Healer, correct?” she asked, pointing to herself simply.

Put delightfully in his place, Lasher chuckled and nodded. “That would be correct. Might I suggest we work on one at a time though? Just in case things take longer than expected, I wouldn‟t wish Ravenna to suffer.” It was the perfect way to phrase it to get her to think very carefully. Finally, she nodded acquiescence.

Lasher peeled off Bronse‟s narc patch. He glanced up at the sky, betraying his nervousness at the low angle of the sun, because Ophelia looked at him as she folded her prim little hands into her lap.

“Looking at it will not slow it down,” she mused. “Darkness comes of her own will and no one else‟s. Only Daylight may push his sister around, as brothers are wont to do with sisters.”

“Indeed, we‟re very guilty of that,” he agreed, amused by her wisely proposed advice.

“Does your brother push you around, honey?”

“Incessantly.” She sighed, rolling her big blues with drama. “But he does so out of love and concern. It makes me happy to know he cares. Have you a sister?”

Lasher did not answer straightaway. He looked at her bundle, then at Bronse, and wondered why she didn‟t begin to work. The narc would wear off soon enough, and Bronse would be in brutal pain.

“I have many sisters. Ten, actually.”

“Ten!” she exclaimed breathlessly. “How blessed your mother is. Are any of them Chosen?”

“Uh …” Lasher glanced up at Kith briefly, but then thought better of it. Since Kith wished his sister and the rest of the Chosen Ones to go off-world, he was about to quickly learn how it would affect his innocent sibling. “No. We don‟t have Chosen Ones where we come from.”

“That is unfortunate,” she said, actually reaching to pat his hand in sympathy. “But it is common. Only, imagine all those girls! Are you the only boy?” she asked curiously.

Lasher smiled, trying to remember the last time he had been referred to as a boy. “I am one of three brothers.”

“My. A magnificent family!” The soldier didn‟t miss the wistfulness in her tone as she sighed gustily and smiled with a delight that must have made her cheek muscles ache.

“Umm … is there anything I can help you with here?” Lasher hinted, gesturing to Bronse hopefully.

Ophelia held her index finger out to him.

“Masin?”

“Yes?”

She then cocked a questioning brow and pointed to herself, a small smile tugging at her lips. Lasher almost fell over in the dirt. She had gotten him once again, the sly little minx! Had he thought her shy?

“Healer,” he responded obediently, feeling she deserved her full victory. He did burst out laughing, feeling far easier than he had the entire day. “My apologies. You will let me know though?” She nodded with a smile. “How old are you?” he asked, realizing that she was no child, but a young woman at least, for all she looked like a child with that fine bone structure.

“I am sixteen years.”

Yes. Kith had said as much. Lasher frowned, worrying suddenly about other things Kith had said about what would happen to this girl if they were left unprotected in the temple.

He was silenced by that grim thought for several minutes, but roused himself when Ophelia finally moved from her delicate kneeling pose. She leaned forward and sniffed daintily over Bronse. She nodded, seeming satisfied, just as a low sound roused out of the commander.

Lasher watched carefully as the blond girl reached out to gently brush her hand over Bronse‟s face, a soothing gesture that made him stir all the more.

“Ravenna …” Bronse said with a harsh rasp.

“She is safe,” Ophelia said softly, beating Lasher to the punch. Ophelia‟s hand drifted down to her patient‟s chest. She looked with consternation at the device assisting the commander‟s breathing, and then tried to pull it off. Lasher‟s hand shot out to grab her wrist, stopping her. The action elicited a simultaneous forward movement from the young males, but Masin ignored them. He did gentle his touch, though, realizing that he had scared her.

“Don‟t. It‟s helping him breathe. You can‟t take it off that way.”

“Remove it for me then,” she said, using a haughty tone to cover her disquiet. It was a poor attempt because he felt her shaking right through her delicate little wrist.

Lasher wanted to argue the wisdom, but, as she had tried to pound into his head rather gently on two occasions now, she was the healer here. Besides, the device could be replaced if she found herself in over her head. He turned off the assist and it popped easily into his hand.

Bronse immediately began to labor for breath.

The pixie was calm as she moved her wrist back, only to lay her palm along the length of Bronse‟s breastbone. Slowly she moved her hand over his skin, sliding it to the left, seeking slowly. Then, just at the curve around to his back, she stopped.

She took a breath and closed her eyes.

Lasher didn‟t know what he had expected, but it wasn‟t the sudden flare of blue light erupting from the small hand. “What the hell?” he exclaimed, hearing the sentiment echoed by Ender, who hurried over to see and possibly protect their commander. She ignored their reactions and kept her eyes closed.

Ophelia turned all of her thoughts toward the injury she had sensed inside this man. There were many injuries, but this was by far the worst. She let the light of her soul escape her body through her palm, and it entered the severe wound. It was, she acknowledged, a wound he had sustained while rescuing her beloved sister and brother. This meant the world to her, and she allowed her gratitude to flow out of her heart so it could add to the energy of her power. An umbilical formed between herself and her patient, a link between spiritual selves. Bronse stopped struggling for breath, stopped feeling pain, and no longer thrashed with worry for Ravenna and his men. The men were, she recognized, his most serious responsibility. Their safety meant everything to him. He was a very foreign being, she realized as they shared spiritual space, but in this regard they were similar.

She had not known many men, and certainly not men like this. She had been brought to the temple at a very young age. She had hardly known her father. Kith, Domino, and Fallon were the only males whom she knew with any form of intimacy. The men who came for healing … well, it was a brief visitation, and their souls all seemed very much the same.

She liked Bronse‟s spirit. He was strong and sure. He had a sense of responsibility and determination that reminded her of Ravenna‟s. He had a large appetite for things that were wild and exciting, and had heavy expectations of those around him. He was not one to settle for less.

He was kinder and gentler than he realized, and he was not afraid to feel fear. He embraced it, learned from it, and felt that it made him grow. There was so much richness to his personality and being that Ophelia wished she could lose herself within him. But that, she knew, was not her place.

It was, she thought with pleasant surprise, Ravenna‟s place.

Or at least it had a great potential to be. This soldier felt very strongly for her elder sister, though he was not yet reconciled to the feelings. Since he was inherently a good man, Ophelia approved heartily. He was quite compatible with Ravenna in essentials.

His violent lifestyle would be an issue, however.

Lasher watched with awe as the magical little creature sighed so deeply that he felt the warmth of her breath even across Bronse‟s prone body. He had followed the progress of the electric blue light that had spread out from the contact point of Ophelia‟s hand until it had encompassed every inch of Bronse‟s skin. Now that blue light was retracting back, rolling up Bronse‟s body like a reeled-in fishing line, until only her hand glowed once more. Then a smaller sigh, and she let go of him.