The Charmer (37 page)

Mathin slanted a glance at Leo, and she
quickly looked away, scowling. “I’d just as soon avoid it.”

Jasmine laughed and chanted, “Run, run, as
fast as you can. You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man.” When
the others looked to her for an explanation, she dismissed it with
an airy wave, “It’s nothing. Just an old nursery tale. Are those
done yet, Mathin?”

They were, and he distributed the skewers,
adding more to the grill as he munched with one hand.

“What I want to know is, now that you’ve
gotten what you really came for

help
ending the kidnappings

are you guys still
going to keep to your trade agreements?” Jasmine asked after she’d
finished her first shish kabob. “It’s still worthwhile, isn’t
it?”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence,
with neither side wishing to speak first. Finally Keilor said with
caution, “I would not be adverse to trade, provided the Ronin are
still willing.”

Jackson studied his denuded skewer. “We might
be willing, on a trial basis, and on a much smaller scale than
originally agreed upon.” He slid a wary gaze to Mathin. “We would
require that all transactions occur at this citadel, however. The
swamps are difficult at best to penetrate without a symbiont,
dangerous at worst. We would not like to be responsible for any
casualties.”

Jasmine grunted. “No offense, but you can
have your swamps. I, for one, will die happy if I never have to see
them again.”

Her words lightened what had essentially been
a warning against trespassing, and Keilor relaxed behind her. “I
think we can handle that, provided you leave an agent here to deal
with any business that may come up. Preferably someone capable of
acting as an ambassador, as well.”

For the first time that evening, Ma-at spoke
up. “I am willing.”

“I need you at home, Ma-at. You’re too
valuable to me to leave behind,” Jackson objected. “It would have
to be someone else.”

“I’ll stay.”

Jackson glowered at his sister. “You’re too
young.”

“I’m twenty-four,” Leo gritted out. “Hardly a
child.”

“Hail the elder,” Jackson retorted with a
sitting half-bow. “Sorry, white-hair, but you’ll be going with us.
I can’t spare the men to watch over you.”

“Jasmine is my age, and look what she’s done.
Perhaps certain offices call for youth and flexibility,” she
contended, setting her jaw.

“She has a point,” Ma-at said, interrupting
what looked to be the beginnings of a royal argument with the ease
of long practice. “I can stay with her, as well as two or three of
the others. Besides, if she were back home, you’d only waste your
energies finding things to fight about. Apart, you may actually get
something useful done for the rest of us.”

“We wouldn’t like to see her get hurt,”
Keilor assured him. “If you chose to let her stay, we’ll watch over
her as well. You have my word.”

There was nothing Jackson could say without
giving offense. Instead he said in a tone that brooked no argument,
“We’ll talk about it later.”

It must have been a doozy of a talk, because
when Jasmine next saw Leo, she was not happy. In fact, she was
quietly simmering. She tried to discuss it with Keilor, but he had
concerns of his own.

“Whether she goes or stays matters little at
this point,” he said, leveling a stare at his wife across the
dining table in their new suite of rooms. “What I want to know is,
when are you going to start visiting Rihlia again? It’s been weeks,
and still you two don’t speak unless thrown together.”

All appetite abruptly fled. Jasmine twiddled
her spoon as if fascinated with the play of light. “She hasn’t been
feeling well.”

“All the more reason to visit. You can cheer
her up.”

She squirmed. “Keilor…”

He set down his cup of cinnamon tea with a
sharp
click
. “What should you have done, Jasmine? Allowed
Rhapsody to kill you? Would that have made Rihlia happier, do you
think? I swear I am sick to death of this foolish dance you two are
having. Do something! Scream, yell, fight about it if you must, but
get it over with. Jayems and I have had enough!”

Jasmine tossed down her spoon. “What do you
recommend I say to her? ‘Gee, fine weather we’re having today.
You’re looking well in spite of the dark circles under your eyes
and that nasty pallor. Oh, and by the way, I’m so sorry I
killed
your mother
!’” Her voice rose at the end, and she shoved her
chair away from the table, hurrying down the three steps from
dining level to sunken living area. She plopped onto an overstuffed
chair.

Keilor pried her hands away from her forehead
and held them as he knelt before her. “We all do what we have to,
my love. I’m glad you are still whole, still safely carrying our
baby.

“You were willing to cross worlds for Rihlia.
Could she not cross this barrier for you?”

In spite of Keilor’s assurances, Jasmine did
not go easily into the lion’s den. He had to all but drag her to
Jayems’ suite and deposit her inside Rihlia’s room.

He and Jayems stared at the closed door. When
no one bolted out, they exchanged a wary glance. “How is it on your
end today?” Keilor inquired.

A muffled shout came from behind the door,
and Jayems answered, somewhat distracted, “She grows more depressed
and miserable each day. If I see one more tear I may have to run
and hide.”

Swearing, foul and loud, issued from the
door. “I hope that’s your wife,” Keilor murmured. “I’d hate to
think my own woman could out-swear the entire garrison.”

“It’s mine,” Jayems said with a scowl as a
particularly forceful word drifted out, followed by a rapid spate
of invectives and denials. “That’s one of her favorite words when
she’s either angry at me or for me.” A faint smile tugged at his
mouth. “But hanged if I know half the phrases your wife is
answering her with.”

Keilor just glowered. He would have a talk
with his wife later about her foul tongue.

Silence descended. Keilor caught himself
straining to catch a hint of conversation and shook his head in
disgust. “Come on,” he said, clapping Jayems on the shoulder. “We
would be better off otherwise occupied. Let’s look over the Ronin
trade proposal. I understand they have prismatic silver…”

Jasmine crossed her arms and waited with grim
forbearance, her back to Rihlia. She needed a moment to rein in her
temper, and to steel herself against her friend’s anger. From
experience she knew Rihlia would be a real witch until she’d
exhausted her emotion. Only then would the real issues surface.

As they did now.

“I never did love her.”

Jasmine turned around and stared at her
remorseful friend.
That
was what was bothering her? Guilt
over a lack of affection for her mother?

“I wanted to blame you for taking her away
before I could find some feelings for her. It was childish, I know,
but what kind of a monster doesn’t love her mother? I didn’t want
it to be my fault.”

Jasmine shook her head and approached the
bed. “I don’t love my mother,” she said quietly. “Sometimes I even
hate her. Then I hate myself for caring at all.”

“That’s different. Your mother—“

“Oh, stop with the guilt trip!” Jasmine
snapped, dumping herself into a chair. “You barely knew the woman.
Then when you did finally get to know her, she came on too strong,
making you want to retreat, not open up. I’d have done the same
thing. Besides,” she looked away. “Look how she turned out.”

A shaky sigh came from the bed. “Jayems
thinks there’s this drug

”

“Drug, smug. No chemical would put the hate I
saw in her eyes,” she retorted, chopping her hand through the air,
unable to hide the strain she felt. “I gave her every chance I
could to stop, Ri, I swear to you! I did
not
want to hurt
your mother, and I really didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I know,” Rihlia whispered.

Jasmine closed her eyes. “It’s still so
vivid. All that red against all that white. Warm, sticky blood on
my hands, drying on my face.” She shuddered. “God.” It was a prayer
and a plea for forgiveness all in one. “I didn’t want to do it. I
really
didn’t want to do it.”

“It’s ok, Jas.” Rihlia touched her hand,
gripped it. “It’s all right.”

Jasmine wasn’t sure of that. This was a big
thing for even their friendship to overcome. Even if Rihlia hadn’t
been able to care for her mother the way she’d wanted to, she must
have felt something.

“I didn’t,” she answered, reading Jasmine’s
mind in the way of long-standing friends. “I’m not sorry you
defended yourself, and I’m not sorry it’s you who lived and not
her.” Her voice gained strength and she gripped Jasmine’s hand
harder. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, kid. You deserve to be
happy. I
want
you to be happy.”

A slight smile tugged at Jasmine’s mouth.
“Who are you calling kid, old lady? Surely you’re not ready for the
old folk’s home just yet.”

Rihlia frowned with mock severity. “I will be
if you don’t stop scaring the crap out of me.”

“Aw, you’re just feeling feeble from lying
around in bed all the time. Why don’t you get up and take a walk
with me? It’ll do you good.”

Rihlia’s smile faded to seriousness, and she
let go of Jasmine’s hand. “I can’t. I’m paralyzed from the waist
down.”

“What!” Jasmine stared at Rihlia’s lower half
in shock. It was covered with blankets.

“Now don’t panic, it’s only temporary, the
doctors said. Just until after I have the baby and my body can
start working on repairing me. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

“But

”

Rihlia threw up her hands in a warding
gesture. “Hey, I’m an alien, remember? We can do all kinds of
freaky stuff.” She smiled in assurance. “Even heal a broken
back.”

Biting her lip, Jasmine eyed her. “Hey, don’t
be getting all cocky on me, now. I’m pretty impressive myself these
days, thanks to this little guy.” She waved one hand, drawing
attention to her symbiont.

“You still can’t see in the dark,” Rihlia
said with a smug smile.

“Maybe, but I don’t sprout hair when the moon
is full, either,” Jasmine laughed as her friend scowled. “It’s good
to have you back, Ri,” she said with heartfelt joy. Rihlia raised
her hand, and Jasmine clasped it, palm to palm, as tears sparkled
in their eyes.

“This is a very good thing,” Rihlia
whispered, her voice hoarse. “A very good thing.”

Keilor and Jayems both shot to their feet as
Jasmine closed the door behind her. Her amused smile told them all
they needed to know. “What is this? Two big bad wolves anxious over
a minor womanly dispute? What will your friends think?”

“Bite them. Are things well between you two
again?” Keilor asked, coming towards her.

“Never better,” she said with a smile that
faded to a warning look. “But why didn’t you tell me that she was
paralyzed? All this time I’ve wondered why she stayed holed up in
her room, and you never said a word.”

“She’ll be fine,” Keilor assured her, looping
one arm around her waist and giving her a little squeeze. “There
was, and is, nothing for you to worry about.”

“We’re talking paralysis here, not a broken
leg. How do you know

”

”I’ve been paralyzed a time or two myself,
Dragonfly. It’s a little inconvenient, but no big deal. She’ll
heal.”

Jasmine stared hard at him. “When was this?”
When he said nothing, merely looked amused, she demanded, “Just
when are you going to tell me how old you are, anyway?”

Steering her towards the door, he answered,
“Never.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair.”

“I’ll make you tell me…”

Chapter 32

It started out innocently enough.

Jasmine watched as one of the big symbionts
fed off a sick stag. The living metal partially enveloped the
snorting animal, calming its prey with a release of endorphins as
it sucked the purification out of the stag’s foot. The process took
only moments. When it was finished, the symbiont released the stag
and turned back into a cycle.

That was when she had her great idea. “I
wonder if one of these big guys could turn into a hang glider?” she
mused out loud, watching the snorting stag prance with restored
good health.

It narrowed its eyes at them and stamped a
cloven hoof in warning, swinging its spiked tail. She and Leo moved
away from the pen.

“A hang glider?” Leo inquired, blond brows
raised in inquiry behind her dark glasses.

“Sure. I’ve always wanted to try it.” Jasmine
patted the silver cycle as it glided to a stop beside them. “I’ll
bet that you could, couldn’t you, big guy?” she crooned, stroking
the cycle’s ‘tank’. The symbiont rippled in approval of the
caress.

Leo stroked her jaw with the backs of her
fingers. It was a mark of her adventurous spirit that she didn’t
even bat an eye at the suggestion. “Hm. We could try it.” She
glanced around at their escort, but men and Haunt were standing
back far enough that their speech was private. “We’ll need a high
point to launch from, though. The symbiont will have to take a run
at it solo first, to test the waters.”

“How about the top of the citadel? I’ve been
up there once. It’s pretty high, and we could go up in the lift,”
Jasmine suggested, tilting her head back to study the rocky cliff
that made up the citadel.

Soon they were on top of the citadel, looking
out over the forest and the sea. For a moment they were silent as
fingers of wind teased their hair. It slid over feminine skin,
sighing at the pleasure. It was a smooth steady wind off the ocean,
and carried the wild scent of salt tang and green forest.

Leo called her symbiont over and explained
via touch what she wanted to do. The symbiont responded, but
instead of the hang glider, it took on the form of a giant silver
bat. Spreading its enormous wings, it leapt fearlessly from the
precipice. Awestruck, its audience watched as it banked into the
wind and soared.