Knight of a Trillion Stars (27 page)

At day’s end, they reached the mountain pass and Lorgin called forth the tunnel.

They emerged into a giant hall.

The whiteness of the walls almost blinded Deana after the strobe lights of the tunnels. She felt rather than saw Lorgin take her hand.

“Where are we?” She put her arm across her eyes to shield them from the brightness.

“It is called the Hall of Tunnels. Come.” He led her through the vast cavernous space. After a moment, her eyes adjusted to the light. She noticed many people, most human, some not, going in all directions. Every now and then the hair on the back of her neck would rise and a great maw would appear, seemingly devouring the people.

“It’s-it’s like Grand Central Station, isn’t it?” She stared openly at what was going on around her, like a country bumpkin in the big city.

Since none of the three men escorting her had a clue as to what Grand Central Station was, no one bothered to respond. They led her to one of the large stone portals which flanked the walls.

Rejar and Traed stepped through to the outside. Lorgin started to lead Deana through, but she held back.

“You can’t just go out there!” Deana was wondering if it was dinner time for those hungry monsters in the street.

“Come—we need to go this way.” Lorgin yanked her arm, pulling her into the street with him.

Deana got her first look at Aviara.

They seemed to be in the midst of a quaint village.

The streets were of paved stone, wide and immaculately clean. There were some shops flanking the streets, each one unique and interesting-looking. Some sold flowers of incredible beauty; others jewelry, art work, all manner of handcrafts, perfume, and more.

It appeared to be late afternoon. Blooming trees and plants were everywhere, their scent sweetening the air with exotic, lush fragrances. The sky was a clear, light blue with not a hint of pollution.

People were strolling about, stopping to talk to others, or sitting down at small cafes.

The temperature felt like a perfect 72 degrees, with a light breeze. Little trilling creatures were singing in the trees, and crystal chimes hung from every conceivable place, issuing harmonious tinkling sounds.

It was utterly beautiful.

But Deana knew from her travels with Lorgin that looks could be deceiving. They had encountered many things that could not be judged by their appearance. Indeed, she was standing next to one right now: Rejar. So she continued to eye the surroundings very carefully as they walked along.

Traed had also been viewing his surroundings, not with the eyes of a stranger, but with those of someone coming home after a long absence.

“Adeeann, what are you looking for?” Traed asked.

“The monsters!” Deana spun around to make sure they weren’t sneaking up on her. She never noticed Lorgin trying to hide his grin.

“Monsters? What monsters?” Traed seemed genuinely perplexed.

“The ones that gobble you all whole for dinner when you walk the streets.”

Rejar leaned toward Lorgin. “Do you think she means the Guild?”

Lorgin chuckled as he pictured the ancient, austere body of mystics. “Most definitely.”

Deana smelled a rat—a six-foot-four rat with golden hair and amethyst eyes. “All right, Lorgin, what gives?”

Lorgin tried to appear innocent, failing miserably. “What?”

“Don’t give me that ‘what’ routine! You snookered me!”

Rejar raised a fascinated black eyebrow. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

Lorgin laughed out loud.

Deana turned, pointing an accusing finger at Rejar as well. “Don’t think you’re free and clear of this either. I don’t see anything wrong with the weather. I know Lorgin’s a lost cause, but how could you, Rejar? I thought you liked me.”

Rejar draped his arm around her shoulders as they walked. “I do like you, Adeeann. That is why I did not tell you about the dancing poisonous plants.”

She shrugged off his arm. “You are both impossible. I’m walking with Traed.” She looped her arm through his, leaving the two brothers to follow. “At least he’s sensible.”

Lorgin looked on, still grinning. “As you desire,
gharta
.” He winked over to Rejar, adding, “But I warn you, Traed; do not even think to ‘snooker’ her.”

The two brothers roared in laughter.

Even the corners of Traed’s mouth lifted slightly.

“Do not worry, Lorgin,” Rejar chimed in, “mayhap Traed does not remember how to ‘snooker.’”

Traed coolly assessed the younger man over his shoulder. “What I have forgotten about ‘snookering’ you have yet to learn.”

This caused another round of raucous laughter. Deana was getting steamed.

“That’s it!
All
of you are impossible!”

She disengaged herself from Traed’s arm, quickening her
stride to leave the men behind her. Until she realized she had no idea where she was heading. Her step faltered slightly. It was difficult to leave in a huff when you had no idea where you were going. Her shoulders hunched when Lorgin calmly called out to her, inquiring as to the directions to his family home. More laughter.

She didn’t say one word as she waited for the men to come abreast of her, overhearing Traed’s low aside to Lorgin which sounded suspiciously like “most entertaining.”

Lorgin approached her, putting a conciliatory arm around her shoulders.

“You must overlook our teasing, Adeeann. We are all so happy to be back on Aviara.”

She squinted up at him. “I can understand that. It always feels good to come
home.
” Her look was pointed.

Lorgin gazed at her through lowered lids, his eyes momentarily flashing in anger. He lifted her chin with a proprietary finger. “Then you, too, must share in our joy,
zira
.”

Stubborn, arrogant man! This was not her home. But she was not about to bring that point up to him again, and well he knew it. She gazed at the surrounding beauty of the land, sighing. She supposed there was no reason for her not to enjoy the place while she was here. Lorgin drew her closer, causing her to smile slightly. How the man was able to sense her moods had always been a mystery to her.

Following an ancient roadway, they left the little hamlet behind, entering a heavily wooded area. Afternoon sunlight dappled through the trees onto dense wildly flowering foliage which carpeted the forest floor. It was cooler here. Cool and green. The same little tree creatures she had noticed in the village hopped from tree to tree singing sweet trilling songs.

The path/road continued to zigzag through the forest.

In the distance she heard a gurgling brook. It was a beautiful spot, hushed and cool; it was a place of peace
such as many sought on earth, but few found. Often, when she had read stories of medieval England, she had pictured a forest like this one. She wouldn’t have minded staying in it for the rest of the day and into the night.

Occasionally along the road, they passed small stone cottages, some almost hidden in the trees, others near the road. Several times the inhabitants called out to them, waving, or inviting them to stop for refreshment. The men politely declined, anxious to reach their home and family. Deana smiled to herself as she noticed several young women specifically trying to get Rejar’s attention.

As they continued walking, Deana noticed that the cottages ceased altogether. After a while, they rounded a bend in the dirt road.

Set far back into the woods, yet still visible from the road, was an enormous stone mansion. It was reminiscent of Tudor houses she had seen around Massachusetts, except this one was entirely made of stones. Mullioned windows with long shutters graced the facade. Somehow she was not surprised when Lorgin turned down the pathway which led to the estate.

“I take it this is your humble abode?” She stood before the enormous double wooden doors, feeling dwarfed by their size.

“This is my—
our
family home,
zira.
”

Before anyone could knock on the door, it flew open and a beautiful dark-haired woman threw herself into Lorgin’s arms.

“You are home at last! I was so worried about both of you.” Her dual-colored eyes flew to Rejar, sweeping him in a glance as if to ascertain the state of his health.

“You worry too much, Suleila.” Lorgin patted her back affectionately. “What could happen to the sons of Krue?”

“What indeed?” The woman smiled. “Come in, come in. Your father awaits you. Yaniff told us of your impending
arrival.” Suleila’s eyes momentarily flew to her son, noting Rejar’s questioning expression as his intelligent Familiar eyes met hers.

He knows,
she thought.
So, now he knows.

She turned to seek Traed standing slightly behind everyone. “Traed,” Suleila whispered, holding out her hands to him.

Traed came forward to clasp her hands. “Suleila. It is good to see you again.”

“Yes. Welcome home, my special son.” It was a Familiar term used for a well-loved child. Suleila had bestowed it upon him when he was a young boy. It moved Traed greatly that she had remembered and greeted him in this manner. He gently squeezed her hands in recognition of the singular distinction she afforded him.

Deana waited for Lorgin to introduce her to his nextmother Suleila, noting that the woman’s long black tresses were woven with purple and gold ribbons. When Lorgin failed to make the introduction, she gazed at him quizzically.

“I must introduce you first to my father,” he informed her as they followed Suleila into the house.

“Why?”

“Because it is the way it is done.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Suleila has seen my ribbons in your hair. She knows who you are, though she cannot acknowledge you yet.”

Deana shook her head, muttering, “Bizarre, truly bizarre.”

They entered into a huge foyer. Deana had a brief glimpse of a vast hollow space, scores of gorgeous hanging tapestries, and colorful woven rugs as she was rapidly ushered into what looked to be a sitting room.

A tall man stood in front of the window, turning as they entered. Deana could tell at once that this was Krue, for he
was an older version of Lorgin. His hair was mostly golden, silvering only slightly around the edges. Still in his prime, he was a vital and commanding presence.

As they approached him she could see that Rejar had also inherited much from his father. The sultriness in Rejar, however, was obviously bequeathed to him from his mother.

Then she noticed Yaniff standing in the corner, the perennial Bojo on his shoulder. She smiled warmly at him, realizing she had missed the kindly old wizard.

Lorgin stepped forward with Deana in tow. Suddenly he went down on one knee before Krue, yanking her down next to him. He withdrew the Cearix from his waistband, handing it to Deana.

“Father, I continue your line. Do you accept this offering?” He turned and whispered to Deana, “Hand him the Cearix, Adeeann.”

Deana hesitated. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to do this. It would be like deceiving his parents. Perhaps she should try to explain to Krue what Lorgin failed to acknowledge: he had the wrong woman.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, she caught Yaniff out of the corner of her eye. He was shaking his head, as if to tell her no. Obviously, he had read her mind and did not think it was such a great idea. She had seen enough of the mystic to know when to defer to his judgment. She gingerly handed the blade to Krue, who gazed down at her with intense amethyst eyes so like his son’s.

When he immediately accepted it from her, she heard Lorgin exhale.

“I accept this offering, my son. You honor my line and your name.” He handed the Cearix back to Lorgin.

Lorgin got to his feet, bringing Deana with him. “I present Adeeann to you, Father.”

Krue turned to her, surprising her by wrapping her in a
bear hug. “Welcome, daughter. Long have I awaited this day. Your presence is a gift to this house.” He indicated his wife. “This is your mother, Suleila.”

Just her presence was a gift? Jeez, these Aviarans had a way with a phrase. Not to mention a way of confusing someone with their strange rhetoric. She turned, bewildered by Krue’s effusiveness, only to be confronted with a beaming Suleila, who clasped her hands in joy.

“I am so happy you have come to our family, Adeeann.” She leaned over, kissing her cheek. “How lucky Lorgin is to have won such a pretty bride. I know I shall enjoy having another female in this family.”

Krue’s eyes wandered to the third man in the room. “Traed.” He walked over to him, clasping his shoulder. “I vow it is good to see again. Welcome home.” Then he surprised the younger man by hugging him as well. “Your room in this house awaits you, as it always shall.” Traed nodded, too moved to speak.

Yaniff stepped forward. “The lad will remain here this eve, but on the morrow he will reside with me.”

Traed turned at the sound of Yaniff’s voice. “Yaniff…” He approached the old man, tears in his eyes.

Yaniff placed a withered hand on his shoulder, his voice suspiciously gruff. “I am pleased you have come, Traed. Despite what you believe, my belief in you is not misplaced.”

Traed chose not to respond.

Suleila decided it was time to shift the emotion-charged scene. She linked arms with Deana, leading her to a settee. “Come, let us all sit and enjoy a sweet drink before the evening meal. Are you very off time?”

Since Deana had no idea what the sensuous, stunning creature beside her was talking about, Lorgin answered for her. “Not very. It was early evening on Zarrain when we left.”

“Then you must be very hungry. We will eat shortly. I have prepared many of your favorite dishes.”

“
Calan
stew?” Rejar asked hopefully.

Suleila smiled indulgently. “Not tonight, my son. But I am sure you will find a dish or two to delight you.”

“You had better,” Krue said to his younger son as he handed each a tiny glass of liquor. “She has been cooking all day for you.”

They sipped their drinks, engaging in idle chat. Deana noticed an instant relaxing effect from the incredibly delicious liquor, immediately putting it on her Aviaran shopping list. As they were conversing, a light knock sounded on the sitting room door, and a man entered. He was obviously a servant.