Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 By Destiny and Design, Part 1 of 3
   by Nysidra
   Fantasy Romance (magic, sci-fi, oani)
Summary: First in the Bheymil Series
   <->
   -_ No Witness _-
   A faint slit of light entered her room from under the door.  Even from
her windowless room under the ground, she possessed the innate knowledge
that the weather would be cool today, no clouds.  The line of storms passed
over two days ago.  The ground would be dry.
   Time to leave.
   Jaw tight and mind set, she drew a deep breath as she sat up bed, stood
on the cool stone floor and dressed.  It was an easy thing to do in the
dark: a long shirt extended to her knees, the oversized trousers tied in
the front, the leather boots secured with twine.
Soft light and memory provided all she needed to navigate the tiny room.
   The back pack in the corner sat ready, prepared last night while the
others slept.  She felt around the bag checking its contents.  Nothing had
changed.  Everything was where she put it.
   Only one thing left to do.
   She walked to the door and rapped her knuckles on the wood.
   Six of them at least.  More if others got in the way.
   "Yes?" Her ward, Tamin drawled as if risen from a nap.
   No reply.  The door needed to open.
   The locked turned and the door opened.  "Fifty-three?  What's the
matter?"
   She pierced the Tamin's gut with the wooden spear she'd spent several
days in the woods whittling to a fine point.  The stake sank into her belly
and up into her lungs until warm blood oozed over the blunt end of the
stake.
   Tamin's mouth worked but no sound issued forth, only more blood as it
soaked the front of her trousers and bubbled over her bottom lip.  Tamin
was not one of the six, but no one who saw her could live to speak.
   She rinsed her hands in the nearby sink.
   With a graceful, soundless hop over Tamin's body, she stalked down the
hallway, checked the other rooms.  She pulled another wooden spike from her
bag and tucked it up the sleeve of her shirt.
   Zola had been right when she said she would be the one left. 
Fifty-eight was gone.  Sixty was gone.  Sixty-four was gone.  Gone like she
would be if she didn't escape today.
   She found one of the six, asleep on a rumpled bed.  She didn't need to
use a stake on him.  She kneeled at his side.  Dark stubble covered his
jaw, thick dark brows.  He had a large nose, but did not snore.  By the
smell of salt and fish, this one was Aquinas.  She could stop his
breathing, poison his body.
   'No.  Too early to risk injury.'
   When he inhaled, she did the same.  Her respiration slowed to match his.
She slid the stake from her sleeve.  No need to conserve, she made enough
for them all, plus extras.
   They exhaled together, and just as the bottom turned around, she thrust
the stake into his throat.  The wound made a clogged sucking sound, he
thrashed and flailed on the bed.
   She backed away from his thrashing body.  She turned toward the
corridor, listening, waiting.
   Patience.  She had time.
   Aquinas stopped moving.
   No expansion of the lungs, no throb from his veins.
   She backed out the room and took the stairs.  The others would be up
there, sleeping in rooms with windows and large beds, waiting for this day,
or maybe the next, when they would come for her.
   She would get to them first.  Minda.  Ann.  Dunlero.  Bruin.  Winizer.
   She worked with quiet precision, taking each of them, waiting until the
light of life extinguished.  There were others, not on her list, did not
see her, slept through her massacre.
   Best to make sure.
   Morning sunlight warmed her skin through the window.  She dipped the
cloth in the bucket of water and washed her body clean of gore, blood, and
sweat.  The soiled clothing was piled into a sack as was the cloth she used
to bathe herself.  As for the boots, she could only find a few drops of
blood to polish off.
   She grabbed the shears from the hook and cut her hair.  Long, curly
locks went into the bag.  She dressed in the fresh clothes from her
backpack, and put it, and the sack over her arms and walked out the house.
   Barely past dawn.  No one lived to notice her retreat into the woods,
her personal playground.  She went to her spot, where one of the six
observe her through the magnifiers.  The hole she dug last week was a
little filled from the rains earlier, but deep enough.
   She emptied the sack of evidence and set it all aflame.  Only a moment,
enough to ruin them.  Then she tossed the dirt into the hole, stamped it
down, covered it with leaves, sticks, and brush.
   Cool air and warmth tickled her scalp.  She put both arms through the
backpack, adjusted her shirt, looked her clothing over.
   Cross the creek.
   She shifted her feet and turned until she spotted the tree with the
winding branches and shiny thick green leaves.  Two of them marked the
trail head that would lead to the crossing.
   'No one must know.' Zola's words of caution echoed in her head.
   No one lived.  No one would know.  People would come looking, but they
would not find her.
   Water rushed over the rocks, roared just under the racket of insect and
bird song.  She hopped onto the log, walked across it and down onto a
boulder.  The backpack flopped heavily when she jumped to the next boulder,
then climbed over a low point of several rocks and downed trees.
   She took the new trail with ease, looking up and back and forth at the
wildlife as it scurried around looking for food, prey, shelter.  She had
never been more than twenty paces from the house.  This view was one she
had never seen, but all the same, this was what she was supposed to see.
   With a grunt, she came to a rest behind a tree.  Pain pulsed behind her
eyes, increasing in pain with each beat of her heart.  The heel of her head
pressed to her head.  Eyes pinched with worried, she scanned her new
surroundings.  How far could she get before she had to stop?
   Her vision blurred and her breath hitched, unable to breathe around the
spike in pain.
   No.  Please.  Not yet.
   A shockwave of agony thudding against her skull.
   With a soundless cry, she collapsed on the trail, both her hands
squeezing on her skull as if she could push the torment back.
   ***
   Needles of sharp, numbing pain slapped her in the face and rolled down
the front of her body.
   She opened her eyes with a wordless gasp.  She blinked water out of her
eyes and shifted, but only her head and shoulders moved.
   An unshaven man with gray streaks in his brown facial hair held an
dripping wooden bucket.  Dirt and grime caked the wrinkles of his face and
arms.  He glowered at her, thick brows low and heavy, muscles bunched.
   Another tug to test the binds on her wrists.  They were tied together,
but around the T-shaped chair back.  Her legs caught at the ankles near the
legs of the chair.
   He spoke short, clipped words.  Frowned, grimaced.  This language was
unknown to her, soft in the throat.
   They were covered by a thick brown fabric, held up by thick wood
branches.  This was not the house of the six.  That was a relief.  Bed,
bench, table, two chests.  Her backpack rested on top of the one closer to
the bed.
   Questions.  He growled questions while gesturing with his muscled arms.
   "Who are you?" He tried in several languages.  She understood a couple
of them.  Similarities between the inflection, differences in the flow of
the words.
   He switched and formed other questions.  He mentioned the name of her
village.
   What did he know about that?  Where was she now?
   He kept his beard trimmed close to his face.  It was easy to follow the
bob of his throat, the shape of his lips, the dip in the skin under his
jaw. Given her keen attention he moved closed, spoke clearer.
   'What happened to me?'
   "What happened?" He echoed her thought.  "Where are you from?  Do you
know..." the language switched, rough and garbled, then smooth and lilting.
   "Do you mean me harm?" She whispered the useless question.  What he
meant did not concern her.  She needed to get moving soon.  He was not the
right person, this was not the place or time.  He smelled like smoke and
sweat, rank with infestation, yellow stained the whites of his eyes.
   He frowned and edged closer to her, freely kneeling in the puddle his
bucket of water had made at her feet.
   She lowered her head and sniffed, mumbled a bit of nonsense.  He leaned
closer.  She inhaled the stench of his body, his bodily heat seemed to
cover her in an oily film.  She shut her eyes and inhaled when he exhaled,
exhaled when he inhaled.
   Focus.
   He untied her wrists, grabbed right arm, and turned it over.  He pushed
her sleeves up to her shoulder.  She remained passive, pliant.  He grabbed
her left arm and began the same inspection.
   Though her breathing did not change, her heart raced.  She knew what he
was looking for, the mark on her thigh.  The mark no one could see.
   He lifted her shirt and she flinched as he checked her stomach and
chest. He leaned her forward and inspected her back.
   "No." She worked one of the knots at her ankle.
   "No?" He echoed.  "Tell me where you came from?  Why did I find you
outside Nodel with..." He used terms unfamiliar to her.  It was too bad she
couldn't listen to him talk more, she almost understood his language.
   The man kneeled and untied the knot she had been about to loosen.
   Perfect.
   This problem could not be solved with sharpened sticks.
   She sucked in a great lungful of air and screamed.  The air around her
warbled, vibrated in time with her voice.  When she ran out of air she
filled her chest and screamed again, longer, louder, deeper.  The water
droplets bounced, the pools rippled.  Pebbles on the earthen floor bounced.
   'Forget about me.  Leave me alone.  Go away!  Leave me alone!' She
thought the words as she wailed as high and loud and long as she could.
   A soft breeze washed down over her and whispered over the ground in all
directions.  A wave of panic rose in answer.  Beyond the brown fabric
others yelled and roared.  Dark figures knocked into the tent.
   The graying man thrashed on the ground, shouting and slapping his body
frantically.
   This could not be leashed.  It was out and she couldn't make it stop. 
She screamed and wailed until the cry came from her like a pant, over and
over, flowing from her with each breath.  Her voice went raw and weakened
as she wore it out.
   Coughing and crying, she scurried to her bag and tossed her things back
inside.
   This backlash was going to hurt.  She balled into a corner between the
test on the bed.
   The man on the floor took out his blade, longer than any used in a
kitchen, and stabbed into the ground.  Spittle formed a white froth in his
mustache and beard.  The yellowish whites of his eyes turned cherry red. 
He stabbed his own hand but that did not stop his rampage.
   She made herself as small and closed her eyes.  Pain crept up her spine.
   Stay quiet.
   She swallowed the scream of agony.
   Stay hidden.
   She shivered from the pain, but the slightest movement increased her
suffering.  Her joints flared and muscles knotted, but she kept to her
ball, stayed in her corner.
   No one can know.
   -_ Useful _-
   "The few people there aren't breathing." Aron tossed off the leaf and
twig cloak.  "Incident seems a few hours old.  Strongest smell is burnt
food and urine.  Made a full circle.  Nothing."
   "Urine?" Mai scrunched her nose and pulled a scarf from her bag.  She
wrapped the woven material around her neck.  "What you think?  Beast or
primal?"
   Aron shrugged as he tied a cloth around his mouth.  "I didn't see signs
of an animal attack."
   "We have to assume primal," Taradon snapped an empty sack free of dust,
set it aside and pulled out another.
   "If so," Aron said, "then it isn't there now.  They were well stocked.
Going to be a good haul."
   Aron stood beside Basir and tugged the empty cart from its ditch.
   Taradon hung the empty sacks along the sides.  "It will save us the stop
in Nodel if we can get what we need from the camp.  How many tents?"
   "Five," Aron answered.
   "Each of us will take one.  Sweep and drop, move right.  Two passes. 
We'll separate what's useful from what's valuable after."
   They set the cart near the central fire.  The food that had been
roasting on the spit was charred black.  Mai and Aron fanned to the tents
on either side.  Basir tethered his mule and entered another tent.
   Taradon chose the farthest tent, looking over the chaotic tracks in the
dirt.  He stepped around a fallen man and entered the tent.  Another man
lay near the entrance, holes surrounded him in the dirt, pooled with blood
from his corpse.  Those puncture wounds appeared self-inflicted.
   He overlooked the weapon.  Another person's weapon, especially one
already bathed in blood was a bad omen.  Otherwise, it invited trouble from
those who may recognize it to the spiritual rage of its previous owner.
   He checked the chests and grabbed the light stones, fabric, food stores,
and tossed them into the sack.
   A rustle from the far end of the tent drew his attention.  He circled
the upended chair and water pail to the bed.
   Bright, pale, bluish-white eyes stared at him from a tight corner
between the tent and the headboard.  His heart raced, muscles tensed.  He
could only catch of glimpse of the small face, but it was striking, like
catching sight of a brilliant bird among ugliness and wreckage.
   A little girl's voice, softer than a whisper, "Are you with them?"
   He looked behind him.  "No.  Did you do this?"
   No answer.  Pale eyes sped over him, the room, but her body never moved,
her facial expression did not change.
   Taradon took several steps back from her, gave her space to see the
carnage.  He dug into the sack and set a few of the food packs within her
line of sight.  Thinking again, he left her the sheepskin shawl and a light
stone.
   He kneeled so that he could meet her ice-blue eyes.  He stalled several
seconds just to take in the meager sight of her.  "You can keep that. 
We'll be out of here soon."
   "I did not."
   She didn't?  Before he could pose another question, her eyes turned from
blue to black as her pupils fully dilated.  Then she passed out.
   Taradon eased forward and looked at her.  He pulled the clutched bag
from her arms.  Her limp body offered no resistance.  He picked up the
items he'd left out, stuffed them into her bag.  With a muffled curse he
snatched his hand out and sucked on his bleeding finger.  He carried the
bag into the light.  It was filled with branches whittled to a sharp point.
   Taradon shouldered the bag with a soft laugh.  A primal had no need for
weapons.  He moved the bed aside and pushed the tent back.  She was all
limbs, skin, and bone.  He tossed the sack over his shoulder and checked
the exit.
   His eyes widened as he lifted her.  The girl weighed nothing, her thin,
gangly body draped in his arms like a scrap of cloth.
   "You're okay now," he whispered as he carried her out the tent.
   The sun hit her and he was presented with another shock.  The girl was
ghost white with frost blond hairs that seemed to glisten and glimmer in
the sunlight.  Bones jutted from her shoulders and collar.  Her chopped
hair looked like errant S-curls of bleached corn silk.  He brushed the dirt
from her face, each vein and vessel reacted under her touch.
   "Doesn't seem they had the time to hurt you.  Good thing you hid when
whatever that was came through."
   Taradon waited in the center near the cart while the others gathered
items and dumped them on the ground.
   "Now, are we considering that valuable or useful?" Aron joked as he
brought his haul.
   "Useful." Taradon smoothed a damp cloth over her face and flicked chunks
of debris from her clothing.  "Move on to the other one."
   Mai's dark blue eyes opened wide as she dropped her sack.  She held her
scarf away from her lips.  "You found the primal?"
   "No," Taradon lifted one of her abraided wrists.  "She was being held
here when it came through."
   "Held here?" She took a step closer.  "You talked with it?"
   "Her."
   Mai's left eyebrow arched.  "I guess you're the expert.  Doesn't look
like a primal anyway.  What are you planning to do with that skeleton?"
   "Check the next tent," Taradon said.
   She frowned, adjusting her scarf, and went into the text.
   Primals were rare, but what few existed were dangerous.  They were
Pasebs who had, for one reason or another, been born with a gross deformity
of body and mind, reminiscent of descriptions of the world's ancestors. 
The biggest giveaway was the appearance, but Taradon did not rely on looks
alone.  The most dangerous currents could run under the most normal guise.
   He placed his hand to the side of her neck, closed his eyes and felt her
pulse.  A slow, steady, sleeping rhythm, as if she had not been awake only
minutes before.  She was out cold.  He checked her head for injuries,
lightly touching her scalp under the wild corkscrew of hair.
   "Where did you find her?" Basir asked.
   Taradon pointed toward the tent.  "There's a body out front and inside."
   Aron returned.  "Good thing we came back through.  A body near the trees
looks like she was used for their entertainment.  She didn't survive the
festivities." He kneeled down and inspected her wrist.  "Scrawny little
thing, isn't ...  she?"
   "Yes." Her choppy hair looked as wild as a tangle of thorns on her head.
She wore thick boots and heavy trousers.  The shirt seemed two sizes too
large and if there was evidence of womanhood under it, he couldn't see it.
He heard her haunting, beautiful voice, and that was all the assurance he
needed.
   Mai returned and they wheeled the cart back onto the path.  Taradon
carried her the whole way back.
   ***
   Memories of the tiny room in the dark.  Early day.
   She felt nauseous, dizzy, off balance.  If she moved, tried to walk, she
would kiss the stone floor.
   "They are coming," Zola warned.
   She pushed herself upright.  Waited.  Adjusted herself on the soft pile
of blankets.
   Minda entered and light flooded the small earthen hollow.  She carried a
chair in one hand and a bowl in the other.  She sat in the chair and set
the bowl of grayish white meat in her lap.
   "Open up."
   She opened her mouth.  The meat had a soft, spongy texture, but the part
that held it together needed to be chewed.  Her stomach would jump and
throat constrict, but she kept the food in her mouth, chewed, and
swallowed.
   Do what they want.  Eat what they give you.
   That, they could have, but she would not give them the one thing they
truly wanted: a sign that something within her had changed.
   "Don't let them know," Zola cautioned.  "It won't last.  I promise you."
   The sickness.  The blackouts.  The headaches.  The seizures.  The
difficulty breathing.  The anxiety.  It didn't last, but it never went
away. She never let anyone know.
   The new things had been with her for a while.  New changes happened
every day.  Each day she struggled to remember what was expected of her,
what was normal, what should not change.
   After serving the unpleasant meal, Minda rose and drug the chair out
with her.  The door closed and plunged her into fresh darkness, broken by
the slit of light from under the door.
   She hugged her knees to her chest and frowned.  She wanted the foul
smell of the meat off her lips, but not enough to lick them clean or wipe
them with her hands.  Her stomach lurched and twisted and she hugged her
knees tighter.
   "When you are in the world," Zola's voice rose in the darkness.  "Use
your eyes, your ears.  Observe what is going on around you.  Listen for the
shape and melody of the language.  Connect what I have taught you with what
you see.  Adapt."
   ***
   She opened her eyes.  Small clearing.  Thin stand of trees.  Clear, late
day sky.  The blanket she lay on had come from the tent.  Her pack sat in
front of her hips, more full than it should be.
   Check it later.
   Four people sat in a circle around a pile of items.
   The bulky, broad shouldered man was familiar.  He had skin darker than
the rest of them.
   The woman with coal black hair sat close to him.  Her finger tips
lingered whenever she touched him.  Her eyes smiled when she spoke to him.
She appeared healthy, her skin was a rich sandy color, deepened by the
sun's light.  The swell of her bosom filled her jacket.  Each time she
leaned forward, the fastenings looked ready to give in to the weight.
   She found it interesting that he paid more attention to the items on the
center cloth.
   The other man was taller, muscled, but lean.  She shortest of them was
also male.  His hair was a light brown like dead leaves, his eyes a
brighter brown.  He wrote things down as they talked.  She was familiar
with the language they used.
   The each carried packs, slept in tents.  Travelers.  They were sorting
things to sell from things to keep.  Scavengers and hunters.  Traders and
wanderers.
   The dark, bulky man, the one who didn't leave her when she blacked out,
pointed to the map the shorter one held.
   "We could stop by Nodel anyway.  Maybe she's missing," the lean one
stated.
   No.  Not there.
   She pushed herself up, and all four heads turned.  She paused, a
radiating heat covered her face, stinging.
   The man with rich dark eyes, dark, healthy skin, a massive body frame,
approached.  He offered a thick, fat leaf to her.
   "Take this." He lifted one to his mouth and sucked on it.
   She copied him.  Liquid, thick, but cool, filled her mouth.
   "Good," he smiled.  "My name is Taradon." He pointed to the coal-haired
girl who enjoyed touching him.  "Mai, Aron," he referred to the lean, tall
one, "and Basir," pointing last to the shorter one, keeper of records.  He
looked to her.  "And you?"
   She kept one hand to the leaf in her mouth and crawled to their pile in
the center.  Mai moved back from her.  Mai had large hips, thighs, and
breasts, so much larger than she'd seen on a woman.  And yet, Taradon was
much larger than she'd seen any man.
   "Wow," Mai breathed, widening her eyes in shock.
   Had she done something wrong?  She was not supposed to crawl?
   She pointed to the stones sitting on the pouch.  She liked the color of
them.  Those were pretty.  She wanted to be called like those stones.  Not
a number, she was not one of many.
   "Rubina?" said Mai.
   She didn't like that.
   "Ruby?" Basir said.
   That wasn't very good either.  Neither Emma or Sapphire.  She looked
through the items in the pile.  Maybe there was a better name.  Zola had
taught her the name of many things, but she wasn't sure if these were those
items.
   "Jewels?"
   She turned toward Taradon.  His word.
   "Jewel?  Your name is Jewel?"
   She nodded.
   "Jewel." There was a puzzled expression on his face.  His eyes narrowed
in thought, but he didn't ask the question that crossed his mind.
   The others were asking questions now.  She lowered her head and stared
at the ground.  She gnawed on the leaf, drinking more of its liquid.  It
soothed her aching throat.
   [ She had been running toward the trade route, and been carried North
when she needed to head South.  ]
   Taradon picked up the map and showed it to her.  In a soft voice he
said, "We found you here," he indicated the place with the brush of his
little finger.  "We were going here.  Do you know this place, Nodel?"
   Zola had taught her map reading.  She noticed how far she had traveled
North.  How long had she been out?  That was worse than it had ever been.
And yet it had led her to the trade route.
   She needed to go South.
   She pointed to the next place with a larged dot than Nodel's to the
south, closest to the trade route.
   "Mirsa," Taradon grinned and nodded.
   "How do you know she can even read that?" Aron complained.
   "This is where we were going anyway."
   She crawled backwards, away from them, past her blanket.  She peeled
back the tough leaf and worked the remaining of the liquid.  She needed to
go, but she did not see a pot.
   Mai pushed to her feet with a huff and followed her.  Jewel also got to
her feet and looked down at the woman.  Discomfort filled her sun-kissed
face.  Mai whispered something under her breath as she took two steps away
from her.
   "It's okay," Mai pointed to a tree.  "I'll watch for you."
   She went to the spot and saw the hole.  A hole, not a pot, because she
was outside.  Of course.  A camp was not a house.
   Mai waited.
   She hurried.
   Mai did not like her.  She looked at the woman's disgusted frown, the
way her fist tightened.  Mai sneered for the briefest second.  Jewel did
not like the woman either.  Other people looked at her like that too, and
they didn't know.
   Basir seemed better about it.  He seemed nice to everyone.
   Taradon never sneered.  He had something gorgeous in his eyes, like the
sunlight off water ripples.
   Aron had her backpack.  He placed it in her hands.
   She looked him in the eye.  He was giving it to her.  They did not want
to trick her.
   "Damn, she's tall," Aron remarked as he packed other bags into a cart.
   "No shit," Mai replied.  "Aspen walking stick.  Freaking me out."
   She put her pack on as the others seemed to be doing.  Everyone was
getting ready to walk.  She ignored their comments.
   "Others were held there before her, maybe even with her.  Did you see
the corpses?" Taradon asked.
   "Yes," Mai huffed.  "I get it, okay?"
   It worked.  She kept her smile of triumph inside.  They did not know. 
She would not tell them.  They traveled south.  She traveled south.
   With him ...  I can travel with him.
   Taradon walked over to her.  He checked her bag, fingered the straps on
her shoulders.  "If your shoulders hurt, we can put something under the
straps.  This seems to be a good quality though."
   Mai had gone back to the hole in the ground to cover it.  Basir checked
his beast, checking the straps on it as Taradon checked her.  Aron secured
items to the wagon.
   "Was it my imagination or did I hear you speak to me back there?" He
whispered to her.
   "I did," Jewel breathed in reply.
   His eyes seemed to light up with his smile.  "No harm will come to you
while you're with us.  You're safe now."
   Safe with him.  She turned the phrase in her mind as they traveled
south. She liked the sound of that.
   -_ Cross _-
   "Victor," Laura Cross reached forward and grabbed her bag as the train
pulled into Lansel station with a muted whoosh.  "Put your things away,"
she spoke firmly to the young boy at her side.
   Victor Cross put his toys into his own bag.
   This never got easier.  It wasn't the traveling, the speaking, the
speeches, not even the executions.  The anticipation kept getting worse. 
She didn't know what to expect.  The distance and urgency left little time
to get a full profile.
   She smoothed her skirt and gripped her bag.  Laura took her son's hand
and exited the train.
   No matter the personally difficulties of her job, people needed to wake
up to the festering danger in the world.  She had to see these abominations
first hand, to experience these horrors so that others would understand.
   "Lady Cross?" An eager young man in a crisp green suit waved from the
platform.
   She nodded to him and walked in his direction.
   "Cedric Banks." He introduced as they walked toward the luggage claim.
"I am to drive you to our facility."
   "Thank you, Sir Banks.  This is my son, Victor."
   The man smiled to him and looked back to her.  "Have you ever been to
Lansel?"
   There were many places Laura had never seen and never thought she'd need
to visit.  Oh, how the years had changed.  "No."
   He cleared his throat.  "We will have ample time before Premier Mander
expects you.  I could show you and your son around the city."
   "Straight to the facility," Laura instructed as he gathered their
luggage.
   "As you wish, Lady Cross.  I am to assist you in any manner for the
duration of your stay.
   "I am thankful for it.  After my business here, I would entertain a tour
of your city." Laura doubted there would be much time for it once she was
finished.  She was more concerned with assuring this city and others like
it were destroyed by fear and violence.
   Sir Banks held the door open and she and Victor entered the vehicle.  As
they took off he pointed out different buildings.  He made note of possible
eateries.  "Do you do this often?" He asked once they parked at the
facility.
   "Increasingly," Laura Cross answered.  She held her son's hand as they
walked up the path.  Her stomach churned with uncertainty.
   Premier Mander greeted her on the second floor.  The room they met in
had large windows, many of them facing the port.  Sir Banks made mention of
their port along the drive.  Lansel was a popular transportation and
trading hub.  Millions of people and goods passed through by train or
vessel from the massive landmass of Alletiern and the island cluster of
Ishili.
   She joined the Premier at one of the windows overlooking the teeming
activity at the dock.
   "Lady Cross," the Premier began.  "I have heard so much about you."
   "How much of it was polite?"
   The Premier grinned and waved to a petite woman standing by the door.
   She disappeared for a moment and returned with a cart carrying meats,
cheese, fruits, and hot beverages.
   "I find your determination and passion flattering." The Premier served
her a steaming cup of brewed herbs before pouring another for himself.  "It
is why I have called you here.  I have heard glowing reports of the success
you've made in these cases in other cities."
   Laura looked to Victor.  He sat quietly in the window sill eating a
slice of fruit and staring at the ships.  "You are aware how dangerous
these deformities have become over the years?"
   "Yes, of course.  How are these deformities separate from the ancestral
abilities that are awakened in each of us?"
   Laura pursed her lips together.  "The natural occurrence of ancestral
talents is harmless.  These talents are easier to cope with and shape when
each Paseb keeps to his or her ancestral home." Laura paused, sipped the
warm beverage.  She was impressed by the quality.  "But," she pointed out
the window to the docks.  We have entered a Krae-wide trend of travel and
wanderlust.  We build cities and ports and make our homes in foreign lands.
Some of the stronger talents prove lethal when removed from its natural
homeland.  This is not the worse of it." Another sip.  She had to proceed
carefully with her next words.  "There are people who have been doing this,
trying to manufacture these abilities, and not naturally.  This is the
scourge I seek."
   "How do you mean?"
   "Creating the abnormality, and not with a bit of naive matchmaking or
slightly benevolent tweaks.  There are people out there creating soulless
bodies as carriers of what I can only think of as weapons." Laura chanced a
look at the Premier.
   "Weapons?" She saw the gleam in his eyes, waiting for her to admit to a
joke.  Weapons were barely useful for more than defense against predators.
   "Disease, disaster, suffering.  These atrocities are committed against
children," Laura continued.  Her eyes misted over.  "I know this best
because it has been done to my own children."
   Premier Mander looked to Victor.
   Laura frowned and shook her head.  "They were extracting information
from them, making them as soulless, and more dangerous, as the things they
created.  I thought this was only my land, but they communicate across
waters, sharing information, send markers, trade lives as if it were a
commodity.  You have a facility such as this in your region."
   "Yes, and per your instructions, I shut down the facility and arrested
and detained the operators.  All that is left is to deal with the children
that were present."
   "I will need to see each of them and make my decision."
   "Will he be okay here?" Premier Mander motioned to Victor.
   "He will come with me.  I also have a team of people who have come to
specialize in the location, purification, and destruction of such
facilities.  I respect your home land, and have not brought them here.  I
do ask your permission for their entry."
   "I will need proof that they were not simply trying to help these
children.  There is no crime in providing schooling to naturals.  I've
heard you have schools yourself, where you educate the less fatal
abilities."
   "Yes," Laura smiled.  "I see you have done your research.  My people
will also help you turn this building into just such a place.  Instead of
corrupting natural abilities and perverting them, the new facility will
help you train educators to suppress and regress volatile energies." Laura
placed the empty cup back on the tray.  "You will have your proof and I
will also need your support once you have that proof, to make other
Premiers aware, to make these crimes punishable."
   "What sort of punishment?"
   "Whatever your justice system deems fitting for the willful destruction
of a child's mind and body." Laura lifted her beg and began pulling papers
from it.
   "What are these?" He asked.
   "These are my previous locations.  It's much faster to show you what I
have done, along with those who gave me permission.  When I find what I'm
looking for, it will be much like this." Laura leaned forward, placed her
hand on his.  "The good part is that we're ahead of the curve here.  This
is not out of control.  Unfortunately," she slid out another report.  "Most
of these experiments end up severely deformed in mind and body.  This can
be stopped."
   "I'll show you the children."
   With Victor's hand in hers, she followed Premier Mander to a row of
bedrooms.  There were only three children present.  The first room she
entered the boy was sweating in his bed.  His eyes open but unfocused and
roaming in their sockets.
   Victor let got of her hand and approached the bed.  He put a single
finger to the boy's forehead.  After several minutes the boy shook his
head.
   "This one has been tampered with," Laura spoke as she filled a syringe.
   "What does that mean?"
   "He's suffering." Laura emptied the syringe into the boy's veins and sat
at his side until his breathing stopped.  She stood with a heavy sigh. 
"Next?"
   The second boy tried to rush them the moment she walked into the room,
but stumbled and fell once Victor drew near him.
   Laura filled another syringe, tears streaming down her cheeks.
   "Lady Cross!" The Premier sputtered.  "What are you doing?  How do you
know he wasn't upset?"
   "He's quite upset," Laura sniffed sharply.  "In children surrounded by
attentive caretakers, this is handled.  In an empty room," the boy went
still at her feet.  "These destructive energies are left to fester and rot.
There is no fix for them."
   By the third room, Laura was resigned, calm.  The nervous jitters of
earlier dissipated.
   The girl was sitting beside her window, eyes red from crying.
   Victor entered the room and walked over to her, took the girl's hand. 
Laura waited with the Premier Mander as the children spoke in hushed tones
to each other.
   Laura put a hand to her chest and smiled.  "She's okay.  Victor won't
speak with an altered one.  You've done very well.  We got here in time to
save her."
   Premier Mander looked several shades more pale.  "How long before your
people are in the area?"
   "They wait for my word outside your region."
   "Please ...  if more can be saved ...  I want to be sure these
atrocities are stopped."
   Laura placed her hand gingerly on his shoulder.  "That is what I have
dedicated my life to doing."
   Victor returned to Laura's side and took her hand.
   "Well done," she praised.  She looked at the Premier.  "Given the
luxurious nature of this facility, we'll find more, and they won't be as
easy.  You've shut this one down, so the others will be scrambling to cover
up.  We must act quickly."
   "Do as you must, Lady Cross."
   "Thank you."
   -_ Heat _-
   Memories of her time as a number.  The six allowed her to play in the
woods.
   Brun watched her from a distance.  Over the years, she was allowed to be
out of sight for a few minutes.  His vigilance slacked because she never
gave them a reason to worry.
   Her unmonitored time allowed her to conduct experiments.  She tested her
limits, exercised her new skills.  Most of it was like a pressure valve,
letting out just the right amount and holding back the rest.  The after
effects were as quick and varied as the things she could do.  She could not
control the after effect, but she could sense its arrival.
   She created enemies and fears to cover her illness.  It become her
version of play, the games she invented to extend her life another day.  If
she had to live her life in hiding, then she had to practice.
   ***
   Mai's squeal caused Jewel to leave her memories behind.  Taradon laughed
and kissed her on the back of her neck.  Mai whispered something in his ear
and his smile grew.  Jewel observed their exchange dispassionately.
   Aron pulled small hip bags from a larger one.  He set each one beside a
rounded tool.  He looked tired, his eyes still swollen with sleep.  Basir
placed the light stones on the ground in full view of the sunlight.
   Jewel placed her hand over her tightening stomach.  She backed away from
the group toward one of the large trunked trees.  She looked up pass the
broad branches to the sky.  It was a clear day, hardly any clouds, and the
chill of the evening was being burned away by the sun.
   No one noticed at her.  She eased to the opposite side of the tree just
as her nerves got the best of her.  She gathered her knees to her chest and
lay her cool head on her knees.  A flash of white covered her vision and
she hugged her knees.
   "Are we bringing the twig?" Aron's voice.
   "That is not her name."
   "Spider is better." Mai chimed in.  "Like a poppa longlegs."
   "I asked you to stop with the names.  Now I'm telling you." Taradon
said.
   "Why does she move like that?" Mai mumbled.  "I'm not trying to call
names, but it's disturbing.  Insects and crustaceans creep like that."
   "I don't care how she moves," said Aron.  "She's got several feet on
Basir and we could use the help."
   "I'll get her.  You all finish up."
   She made small, silent, shallow attempts to breathe.  Larger gasps would
give her more air, but would make too much noise.  He drew nearer.  She had
to get this under control, had to try.  She needed air so badly.
   He rounded the tree, but the questions she expected didn't come.  He put
his hand on her shoulder, as her vision narrowed.  If she had to choose
from any of her explanations, which would he believe?  Irritation, allergy,
fear, bad memories?
   He kneeled in front of her on the balls of his feet.  Sweat poured from
her face.  His expression looked tormented, as if experiencing her gradual
suffocation.  He extended his hand.  What was he thinking?  What if
something happened?  What if he knew?
   Jewel struggled for her next breath.  They can't know.  She had to run.
   He exhaled slowly, blowing through rounded lips.  Then he matched his
short inhale with hers, and exhaled in the same manner.  She knew how to do
this, fall into time with him.  By the third time he'd done it, and for the
smallest moment, she felt better.
   She took his outstretched hand and the burn in her chest cooled.  More
air reached her lugs, the knot in her stomach loosened.
   The moment she could breathe on her own she snatched her hand back.  Now
there would be questions.  How would she answer him?
   "There's a cavern a short hike from camp." He sat beside her. 
"Sometimes these caverns have a mineral called Etine or Heat Stone.  We go
in and look for some whenever we get near a possible source.  I would like
to take you with us.  We go in pairs, so this will give Basir the
opportunity to sit out.  He's not fond of dark spaces."
   She stared at him as he talked, his hands motioned along with his words.
He didn't say anything she expected.
   "We use a scoop pick - a tool with a prying edge and sharp end - to
knock the heat stone lose.  It doesn't take much.  The stone itself is very
fine, grainy, but it clumps together.  We collect it in small leather
pouches." He lifted the pouch at his hip to show her.  "Is this this
something you would like to do with us?"
   Collect heat stone.  The people of Nodel used Etine.  She knew what it
looked like.  She'd never collected it before, but dark spaces did not
bother her.  "Yes."
   "Are you feeling better?" His voice sounded full of genuine concern,
personal, just between them.
   "Yes." An easy, simple word.  It took the worry from his eyes.  She took
his hand and unfolded herself.
   He led her back to the others.
   "Make sure you don't hit your head," Mai masked her teasing words as
those of concern.  She tied a belt around Jewel's waist.  "The passage can
get tight without warning, so don't get stuck either.  Move slow.  These
passages aren't meant for trees."
   By trees, Mai meant her.  Not Aron, though he was as tall and Taradon,
bulkier.
   Taradon's shoulders tensed and he blinked slowly.  As simple as that,
his irritation with Mai passed.  "I'll go with her," he said to Mai.  "You
go with Aron."
   Mai rolled her eyes and huffed.
   Jewel fingered the belt at her hip where the pick and bag were, learned
how the fastens were secured.  Her index finger pressed on the dull point
of the pick.
   Aron led the group with Mai and Taradon following behind.  Jewel and
Basir brought up the rear.
   The foliage was darker here.  Falling water roared in the distance. 
They had begun to talk, she let herself fall behind, did not look at any of
them.  They didn't try to get her to speak with them, and she didn't want
them to start.  However, she drew closer as their conversation turned
toward a subject that irritated Taradon.
   "I was just saying that there's growing documentation that points these
mutations to the crossing of nevi." Basir said.
   "All nevi?" Mai asked.
   "No, just the prominent ones.  You can see the difference."
   "All mutations?"
   "No," Basir sighed.
   "Doesn't matter," said Taradon.
   "The whole nevi thing is a weak excuse to write off naturally occurring
differences in people," Mai said.  "It's convenient to complain about your
partner when your offspring ends up killing crops or has a hyper-colored
nevi."
   "It's not worth the trouble though, is it?" Aron chimed in.  "It's
better to be sure.  You don't find these kind of issues in smaller
villages."
   "Exactly," Taradon echoed.
   "No question about where you stand," Mai grinned.
   "I would be the last person to make a statement based on my feelings,"
Basir continued, "but if you look at the basic facts, then you must see
that you run a greater risk."
   "Depending on the Nevi," Mai clarified.  "And I don't have, what you
call, a 'prominent' one.  So why should I care?"
   "I admit.  It does have a bearing on the outcome." Basir said.  "My
studies will prove if it matters."
   "Strong nevi are few and far between." Mai shrugged.  "Waste of time."
   "As the documentation gets better, then we can learn exactly what
combinations produce which results."
   Taradon growled in frustration.  "Purposely creating disasters so that
you can make an entry in your tower of notes?"
   Basir and Mai dropped their heads.
   "It's not enough that this type of thing occurs in the first place."
Taradon continued in a low rumble.  "You know that some people are out
there in danger of being put to death for the crime of being born?"
   "With proper education and training--"
   "Before or after the hasty execution order?" Taradon raised his hand in
disgust, putting a halt to the conversation.  He looked back at Jewel.
   She had been listening to them, her eyes hopping from one person to the
next.
   Taradon did not see an expression that might reveal her side on the
matter, but he had his suspicions.  He'd felt it the moment he looked into
her glacial eyes.  That suspicion was confirmed each time they touched or
whenever he caught the abject fear in her expression.  Somewhere on her
body was a nevi that would strike that same fear in others.
   She must have had practice at sulking away like a sick feline each time
she felt ill or confused.  Neither Aron nor Mai suspected anything.  They
thought her a recluse, sickly girl and left it at that.  Taradon noticed
how her distance from each of them remained over an arm's length, including
him.
   They arrived at the cavern.  Basir came to a stop with his beast and
settled on an outstretched mat.
   "If we come to a split," Taradon began.  "Aron and Mai, you take the
right.  I'll take the left path with Jewel.  Don't split again after that,
take another right, we'll take a left."
   The wide-mouthed cavern descended within a few paced of the entrance. 
This one, marked by other travelers, was known for its production of heat
stone, a resource that grew along the stone walls helped by the rising airs
and minerals in the local waters.  When traveling in a small group as they
were, it was best to only delve into the shallow end of a cavern.  Any
deeper and they would chance encounters with nesting predators, collapsing
structures, pools of infested waters, or a labyrinth of twists and turns.
   They arrived at a split after the light from the cavern entrance turned
dim.  Jewel followed Taradon as he veered to the left.  He carried a
palm-sized light stone ahead of them.  It glowed a faint bluish-green,
growing brighter the darker the passage became.  Drawn to the light, Jewel
moved closer to him.  She didn't have far to move, though the cavern was
easily high enough for her to stand straight, it had narrowed such that she
could touch either side with her arms.
   Taradon held the stone higher.  "It comes from Liwi.  Do you know the
place?"
   Zola had explained many things about many lands.  Liwi was surrounded by
several islands between the majors land masses of Alletiern to the west,
Thosix to the east, Thutfo to the north, and Arixel to the south. 
Alletiern, Arixel, and Liwi were ancestral homes.  Tens of thousands years
ago others Pasebs lived and thrived on those lands.  Liwi was unique in its
location far below the surface of the water.
   "Surrounded by islands," she said.  "The Dintnijis originated there."
   "Yes, they did.  Lightstone is one of their major exports.  They absorb
light and release it for over several hours."
   Jewel lifted her fingers to feel the smile as it tightened on her face.
He talked to her like Zola, providing information rather than constantly
demanding it.
   Taradon lifted the light to her face.  "You have a beautiful voice and a
gorgeous smile."
   Her smile broadened.  She gently pushed the light back to the tunnel
ahead.  She didn't want to know what else that light might reveal about
her. She fell in step behind him, still fingering the smile on her face. 
She poked at the puffy muscle just over her cheek bone, followed the crease
down to her mouth, felt her teeth through her cheek.
   They came to another split and Taradon made a fist against his thigh. 
"We need to turn back."
   Jewel dropped her hand and looked at the options ahead.  She stepped in
front of him.
   "There are too many turns from here.  If we continue forward, we put
ourselves at risk of choosing the wrong way out."
   She took the light stone from his hand, placed it on the ground and took
his hand.
   ***
   He could wander the labyrinth of many caverns, mapped or otherwise, and
always find his way back again.  If he worked at it, suffered through it.
He'd know his way out the same way he knew she could leave a light source
at their crossroad and not miss a step along the way.
   He wanted to tell her to stop, but it wasn't necessary.  It was just the
two of them.  Did she trust him to keep her secret?  Did he trust her if
she discovered his?
   Taradon felt along the cool stone walls as they made their way. 
Instinctively, he reached to place a hand to her hip, to slow her progress.
The way might turn slippery ahead.  She was careful though, each step taken
with care.  The truth was that he wanted to touch her, hold her.
   They were plunged into complete darkness now.  His own steps became
smaller and shorter.  He moved in step with her, reading her movements and
knowing which way she would move.  He felt no hesitancy or fear in her
body.
   She reached down for his hand, brought it up, and he felt the steady
warmth coming from the stone there.
   He reached for the pick at his belt and felt for the stone again.  Jewel
touched his wrist faintly, letting him know where she was holding the
pouch, but the whisper of her touch caused his heart to race.  His skin
flushed, but he concentrated on loosing the stone in the bag.
   She put life in him like any woman.  Though she had little in the way of
curves, she moved with grace, calculation.  Her eyes were entrancing, her
voice like music.  She was quiet and demure and that made him wonder how a
moan would sound from her delicate voice.  How he could cause her to
tremble from the pleasure of his touch?  Where did she like to be kissed?
Would she take her pleasure quietly and sing it to the mountain peaks?
   Get it together.  Taradon chastised himself as he concentrated on worked
the stone.  Pitch black, deep in a cavern, and his mind turned to lust just
because she touched him.  What he'd give to feel those soft fingers touch
him while her lips parted in pleasure, taking his tongue or...
   He couldn't be helped, Taradon thought with a grin.  Once upon a time he
thought he had to be careful with women.  He couldn't risk impregnating the
wrong one, but as one beautiful woman after another spread wide for him,
Taradon came to learn that all his precautions were for naught.  When the
time came, when he truly wanted to produce a child, it never happened. 
None of his misadventures bore fruit.  The right woman didn't matter. 
Family was a dead dream to him.  He couldn't have children, a family, a
place to call home, peace and comfort.  But of women?  He could take his
pick.  He'd drown in all the pussy he could get.  He went back on the road
each time, looking for the place he'd finally choose to rest, to call home.
He could always choose a child, if he could first choose a woman who would
not fear to be his wife.
   Hope, crying from its cold grave.
   The quiet fuming helped to kill his lecherous thoughts.  He drove the
pick deep into the stone, filled both bags.
   She flinched, pressed her body close to his, and he stilled.  Her hand
worked along his shoulder to his lips.  She put a single finger there.  It
trembled as it lowered and then her lips, warm against his, he felt her
breath, each exhale on his face.  If he felt her part her lips, her tongue
along his lips then he would...
   She pulled at him.  He didn't know what direction she led him in, but he
followed.  Her steps were quick, her grip urgent.  He ran blind, pulled and
led by her alone.  As the fire of inner fury and lust died down he sensed
it.  Something else was in the cavern.
   He was the one who was supposed to be protecting her.
   The moment Taradon caught sight of the light stone, he rushed forward
and snatched it up.  She moved with such grace, but such ...  well, quite
like the cavern insects Mai compared her to.  She stopped her strange crawl
when they reached the faint light of the sun.  She glanced to him and
mimicked his movements, heavy, stooped over.
   Taradon noticed the awareness in her eyes, the silent expectation of
trust.
   Mai and Aron were waiting at the entrance.
   "Form up," Taradon ordered as they rushed beside him.  He held Jewel's
arm and pulled her beside him.
   Basir rushed from his blanket to join them.  The four of them stood
shoulder to should with Basir standing in front.
   The itharni emerged from the cave, its run slowing to a cautious
approach, its face pulled back in a warning snarl.  It snapped its jaw and
roared.
   Taradon glanced nervously to Jewel, but she didn't have the look of
panic, fear, or uncertainty.  She looked serene.  She might as well have
been looking at her reflection in a lake.  Her stared at animal with keen
interest.
   She'd known it was there.  She had known and knew the moment when to get
him out he cavern.  It was with that same tranquility that she unpeeled
Taradon's fingers from her arm.  Whatever she was about to do he needed to
support her.
   "Aron, ready up."
   "I have the best chance if I can get it from the side." Aron said.  Both
he and Mai had drew their daggers.
   Jewel sharply turned her head to the right.  The itharni followed her
gaze, turning its body as well as its head.  That moment of distraction was
all Aron and Mai needed.  The itharni screamed as Aron and Mai's weapons
pierced the feline's neck.
   Jewel looked at the fallen itharni with a smile.
   Aron checked the animal's vitals, dressed it.  Jewel soaked in each
detail as if she'd never seen it before, with the wonder of a child new to
the world.
   "That's an intharni," he whispered to her.
   Her eyes cut over to him, but she didn't turn her body.
   "They either dwell in caves or trees.  Good meat and their skins are
valued for their coloring." Taradon walked toward the fallen feline.  "Skin
it here.  We'll need something to carry the meat back on."
   Jewel walked off and returned with three long branches, none of them
were too straight, but more than sturdy enough for their purposes.
   "How did you go deep enough to flush out an itharni?  They don't nest
near the entrance," Basir said.
   "We found a large cache of heat stone.  I guess the itharni thought it
was a good place to sleep."
   Mai looked to the bulging bags tied to Jewel's hips, testing the buckle
that held her trousers.  "I guess its useful after all," she muttered.
   Taradon winked at Jewel.
   While the carcass was being prepped for travel, Jewel took the guts and
placed it off the path.  Aron and Mai carried the skin overhead while Basir
and Taradon carried the meat.
   Jewel walked a bit taller back to camp, shoulders square, head high, the
barest of smiles on her face.
   ***
   "Maybe she's been malnourished," Mai said between mouthfuls of roasted
itharni.  "Hunger can delay the onset of blossoming, right?"
   Basir nodded.
   "Yeah, and if that's true," Mai tore off another bite of meat, chewed.
"Why was she starved in the first place?"
   Jewel moved back to her blanket.  She wouldn't enter any of their tents.
She preferred her spot on the ground, curled on her blanket.
   "She understands you," Taradon admonished.
   "So what?  She never says a word, in any language." Mai pointed to
Jewel's untouched portion.  "What is she waiting for?"
   Taradon looked at Jewel's meal.  Everyone was eating but her.  She did
appear to be waiting for something.
   Mai slowly sang out, "Oh, Great White Spider, Why Won't You Eat?"
   Aron grinned and grabbed her food.  "There.  Now she doesn't have to
worry about it."
   "Put it down."
   Aron flinched at Taradon's tone.  He had not shouted, didn't even look
to Aron, but he didn't have to shout to communicate the promise of pain. 
Aron placed the leaf wrapped, heavily spiced itharni back in its place.
   "It's her portion," Taradon stated.  "She earned it.  If she wants to
stare at it, that's her call.  Leave her be."
   Mai narrowed and rolled her eyes, but made no further comment.  Aron
paid attention to his meal.
   Jewel reached forward and pinched off a bit of meat from inside the wrap
and placed it in her mouth.  It was different, delicious, an unexpected
richness of flavor.  She worked the food slowly, waiting for her stomach to
lurch or tighten, but none of that ever happened.  She pinched more off,
eating it far slower than the rest of them.  Taradon held his wrap in his
hand, taking large bites and chewing with relish.  Some times a bit of
juice would slide down his jaw, a bit of it glistened in the hair of his
beard.  Jewel worked the meat in her mouth as she watched him in the
firelight.
   Jewel caught Mai's stare, the look of anger, hatred, and jealousy in her
eyes.  She snarled soundlessly, and her face looked horrid with that frown.
   It was easy to cause Mai to frown.  Mai did not like differences.  The
longer Jewel took to eat, the more uncomfortable it made her.  When Mai
talked about her, Taradon got upset.  When Taradon became upset, he didn't
kiss Mai.
   Jewel liked that conclusion.
   She felt better when they were upset with each other.  They were less
concerned about her, asked fewer questions.
   -_ MIRSA _-
   The journey to Mirsa was not easy for Jewel.  She no longer had to
create reasons for Mai to point out her flaws.  Her legs hurt.  Her feet
had a continuous screaming ache.  Her skin burned like it was set on fire.
Each step was torture and everyone else seemed fine.  At night her muscles
jumped and twitched for hours.  Each day she felt like she couldn't take
another step.
   There was something else, something that hurt Jewel in her chest.  Mai's
outbursts only delayed Taradon from kissing her for a moment.  He still
kissed her and so much more.  He did things to Mai that made her moan and
grunt late into the evening.
   Jewel wanted it to stop.  She felt like she hurt inside each time he
touched her.  They lay together in the same tent making wet noises and
Jewel's insides felt twisted in a bed of thorns.
   "We're about two days outside Mirsa." Taradon announced as they broke
camp.  He put his arm around Jewel's shoulders.  She gritted her teeth as
her shoulders burned.  "I know it doesn't seem like it now, but you'll get
used to the traveling.  Your body will adapt."
   No.  That didn't sound accurate.
   "Maybe we can find a cheap vehicle, take a paved road.  How would you
like that?"
   She didn't know what to say to that.  Zola had told her about vehicles,
the various transports used near cities.  There were all kinds to move
people and items through the Krae.
   His hand appeared massive on her burnt shoulder.  He delighted her twice
as much as he worried her, his strength and warmth.  He talked to her all
the time.  It wasn't like he ever asked her questions.  He only taught her
with a patient voice of knowledge and instruction.  He watched out for her,
cared for her.  He made sure she was hydrated when the others forgot about
her.  He could always find her when the others barely acknowledged her
presence.
   What would she do when the questions came?  The questions she could
never answer.  No one could know.  Zola said so.
   As nice as Taradon was, he had an explosive temper.  During the new
moon, he attacked the thieves that thought them an easy target.  When he
said things, people listened.  If they didn't listen, his strong arms made
them.
   Would she listen?
   Yes.  Without question.
   She found that truth difficult to accept.
   No one could know, so what would she do?
   She didn't want them to leave her at Mirsa, but she couldn't stand Mai.
Mai wanted to ask questions.  Mai created answers to those questions that
Jewel didn't like.  She needed a plan.
   ***
   It was four days before Jewel saw the gates of Mirsa.  Mai made it very
clear that it was her fault.  She was slow and needed to rest too often. 
The pain had not eased yet, but it no longer screamed at her.  Her aches
became a constant echo in the back of everything else.
   Jewel probably could have made the trip in three days, but she enjoyed
the attention Taradon paid her.  That third day, she probably could have
pushed through the pain, but Taradon had come to her.
   She had withdrawn from the group again, a twisting in her gut had her
doubled over, she'd puked a stream of water and bits of breakfast a few
feet away.  Exhaustion killed her ability to hide much of it.  She lay
balled in a knot out of sight and moments later he was there.
   He took one of her legs in his hands and began massaging the swollen
muscle.  It hurt at first, but Jewel braved the discomfort and let him
continue.  He worked up her calf toward her thigh and his attention soothed
her.
   "You're bulking up after all," he said while he was working on her arms.
"I could do a much better job without these clothes in the way."
   Jewel gasped and jerked away from him.
   "Shit, sorry, Jewel.  I didn't mean to startle you.  I'm sorry.  Fuck,
I'll go."
   She grabbed his hand and brought it to her other arm.  She didn't care
how ready she was to travel.  She didn't want him to stop touching her,
just not under her clothes.
   He smiled and continued to work her muscle.  "You're getting stronger.
We'll be in Mirsa soon and you'll be able to rest." The look in his eyes
was hungry, warm, friendly.  It was different than the way he looked at
Mai, better.  He pulled his canister free and handed it to her.  "Sip it."
   Mai had been livid by the time she rejoined the group.  She complained
that he treated her like a child.  "A muscle cramp?  Really?  Which fucking
muscle?"
   "It happens to all of us," said Taradon.
   "I don't see you rubbing Aron down when he aches." She grumbled under
her breath, but she didn't say those words to Taradon.  Jewel had heard,
and Mai was right.  Taradon paid most attention to Jewel.
   ***
   They approached the guards at the Mirsa gate.  Taradon did the talking.
He announced their intent: trade and rest.  He showed them all their
belongings and presented their weapons.  Basir gave the guards his travel
book to write in.
   "Who is this one?" Asked one of the guards.  His face was covered in
dark hair.  "She isn't noted in your log."
   Basir rose to his toes and pointed to some place on the page.
   "Very well," the guard remarked as he wrote.  "Mirsa welcomes you." The
heavily bearded guard then made a stamp in the book and handed it back to
them.  "Markets to the east of the main road.  If you're looking to offload
the pelt, look for a man named Fredder."
   "Thank you," Taradon said as he ushered them through the gates.
   Basir tucked the travel book into his bag.  What sort of things did he
write in there?  What did it say about her?  She needed to get a look at
those pages.
   The sights and sounds of Mirsa diverted her attention as they walked the
stone-paved streets.  The shriveled roots on display under a tan colored
shade, brightly colored fruits in woven baskets, blankets hanging on high
racks.
   A brown haired woman with stunning golden eyes and hefty bosom had
berries and berry preserves and berry juices for sale.  She smiled at the
young men standing in front of her tables.  They really seemed to like her
wares.  Another table with children crowded around it had objects fashioned
to resemble animals and people.
   Dolls.  Jewel knew dolls.  She'd never owned any or made any for
herself. Zola told her they were a bad idea.
   Taradon's hand rested lightly on the small of her back.  Jewel looked at
him.
   "We'll be here a while," he whispered.  "Remember to breathe."
   Breathe.  She filled her stinging lungs with a full breath of air.
   With a brief nod of approval Taradon withdrew his hand.
   They veered over to the pelt dealer, Fredder.
   "Is that so?" The shop keeper came from behind his stall when Basir
described the guard at the gate.  He was a scruffy man, ruddy colored skin
a bit like Taradon's, but much leaner in body.  "You've done good work with
it." He checked the fur underneath.  "Soft.  Nice age.  What's this here?"
He fingered one of the openings."
   "Stab wound." Aron answered.
   Fredder nodded.  "I'd like to purchase.  Price?"
   Aron and Taradon spoke for a moment, then Taradon left him with the shop
keeper and the pelt.  The rest of them moved on.  Basir walked his beast to
a stall and arranged for its care during their stay.
   That left Taradon with Mai to his left and Jewel on his right.
   "How do you want to handle the heat stones?" Mai asked.
   "I want to see if we can use them for trade at the inn." Taradon
answered.
   Aron caught up with them and held up a pouch with a grin.  "Paid us
well."
   Basir came back out from the stable.  "The caretaker says the inn near
the center of town has a bath house.  They would be the one in most need of
fresh heat stone."
   Mai did a little dance and made a high pitched squeal.  She clapped her
hands to her chest and lolled her head to one side.  "A bath house." She
batted her lashes at Taradon.
   "Let's check it out."
   Basir led the way to the inn and the advice panned out.  They were able
to share a large room together for the sacks of heat stone.  Their first
two meals were even included.
   In the main area of the inn was the lounge.  There were a few people
sitting around sipping tea.  The rooms were on the second floor with a
large balcony that allowed the guests to look down toward the first floor.
   They carried their things upstairs.  Everyone seemed excited to be in
the room.  Zola had explained how an inn worked, but she never expected the
room to be so large.
   She stood near the door, pack dangling from her shoulder.  Did they
expect her to stay as well?  How long before they left her behind?
   "Settle down here," Taradon led her to the bed in the far corner.  He
had the bed near the door.  Aron and Basir had the two along the opposite
wall.  Jewel didn't see another bed for Mai.  She noticed that she placed
her things down near Taradon's.
   Jewel off loaded her pack on the floor beside her bed.  She knew from
watching them that they never placed their travel equipment on the place
they slept.  She liked that rule.
   Their belongings hadn't settled before most of them filed out the room.
Jewel walked to the back window and slid it open.  The small area was
screened with a gossamer fabric, but it left enough room to sit and enjoy
the breeze, listen to the activity outside.
   She crouched to the floor and closed her eyes.  It felt good to sit. 
The throb in her feet and legs eased the tiniest bit.  She could hear the
rustle of the wind through the smaller plants and trees.  There were so
many voices, people walking along, laughter, shouts, movement of objects.
   Jewel rested her head against the wall and let her mind drift with the
breeze.
   ***
   Memories of her time locked in the dark.
   She had been listening to Zola all morning.  More lessons.  Always more
lessons.  She told her things taught to others who did not have to sit in
dark rooms, who weren't poked with sharp needles, observed by silent wards,
or fed sickening food.
   Some of the six were arguing outside her door.  They were frightened,
worried.
   Zola told about the others, numbers who had been in these rooms before
her, but who had died.  Delero killed them.
   "What happened?"
   The argument outside gained volume, but she couldn't make out any of
what was beig yelled.
   "They would rather see you dead before anyone found out about you," Zola
answered.  "This is why you have to hide." Zola made a sound then.  It was
garbled, fragmented, but her voice cleared and she continued.  "The time
will come when you will go out into the Krae, and not just to the woods to
play.  You will need to remember these rules of the world." Her voice went
faint and then there was that sound again.  "No one else will know if you
blend.  Everyone is a little different, but you can never let anyone know
how much."
   Jewel never learned what those rules were.
   They interrupted Zola a lot in those last days.  Zola said nothing of
it. Jewel wished she had, wished she knew what the rules were.  Wished
she'd been told more about why they kept her in the dark room.  Why the
others were killed.  Why they would have killed her.  Why they seemed
afraid to even be near her, always watching, waiting for her to commit some
error.
   "What are the rules?"
   She frowned.  She felt the sting of tears in her eyes.
   "What happens when you break the rules?  Do they find out?"
   ***
   Aron, Basir, Mai, and Taradon came and went, but neither of them said
anything about her sitting on the covered porch alone, even when they saw
her.  She fell back to sleep and returned to her memories, years of advice
she wasn't sure how to follow.  The past weeks of experience she'd yet to
fully take in.
   The way she felt when she looked at Taradon and Mai.
   She woke again to his voice.  Low, authoritative.  He mentioned her name
to Mai.  He wanted Mai to take her somewhere.
   It had been Jewel's suggestion that they come to Mirsa.  She had not
taken the time to come up with a reason why.  Mai wanted to leave her
behind.
   It didn't have to be that way.
   Mai stepped over to the window.  "Are you damaged?"
   There was a slamming noise from inside.  She made Taradon angry.
   Jewel looked up to Mai.  She knew what that meant, no kissing for them.
   She could show her damage.
   Mai's expression changed from disgust to wariness.  That's the look the
others had: Ann, Minda, Winizer ...  all of them cautious.  Mai folded her
arms under her breasts.  "You piss me off too." She whispered.  "Get up and
put this on." She thrust a pale yellow shift into her lap.  "I have to take
you to the bath house." She lowered her voice again.  "You're too stupid to
know you stink."
   Jewel unfolded herself, slowly.  Her legs felt stiff, her muscles
screamed, but she swallowed her discomfort.  It felt good to stand her full
height and look down at Mai.  She took the gown and changed.
   The gown was short on her, but it covered her thighs.  Mai led her down
the stairs to a central room of the inn.  The bath house was warm and the
lights low.  Two women were in the central pool, a few others, all women,
milled about the sides.
   "You've come in from traveling," Mai explained.  "Rinse there first."
She pointed to the falling water.
   Jewel looked back to Mai.  Then what?
   "I'll be back for you." She spun on her heels and walked away.
   She would be alone with him now.  Jewel walked under the spray.  She
would undress and he would kiss and touch her.  She'd giggle.  They would
pant and breath hard.
   She would not return.  She lied.
   Jewel mirrored the woman using the spray next to her.  She rubbed the
grime from her sore skin.  She enjoyed the water.  It wasn't nearly as cold
as the river beds and lakes.  She frowned as she noticed just how dark and
dirty the water circling the drain was.  She'd been filthy.  Her hair felt
even worse.
   The other woman left the spray and stepped into the larger pool of
water. She scanned the other women.  They all seemed content, relaxed,
calm. Some women sat on the benches along the wall attending to their hands
and feet.  Near the exit, one dressed in a room with a large reflecting
glass.
   Jewel stepped into the water, dipped her head and rubbed her face.  Some
of the other women seemed to float on the surface.  A few took to swimming
through the deeper end of the bath.  Jewel could neither swim nor float. 
She didn't dare attempt to do so now, but she could walk where most of them
couldn't stand.  She kept apart from them, but observed them.  Soft and
curved, all different shades of skin.  Breasts that swelled or hung low,
hips and thighs, bellies that curved or swelled.
   Jewel wasn't just a little different.  She didn't look anything like
these women.
   Breathe.  She made herself take deeper breaths.
   "May I?" A woman from the benches approached Jewel.  She sat on the edge
of the bath and pointed to Jewel's hair.
   Jewel gave the woman a confused look.
   "Your hair?  May I?" She lifted a small, broad basket with sticks,
combs, and ointments.
   Jewel studied the smiling woman's face, but saw no hint of deceit.
   "Come on over to the bench, honey." She stood and motioned for Jewel to
follow.
   She arranged a cushion for her to sit on while the woman perched on the
bench.  She was a very round woman with breasts nearly as big as Jewel's
head.  Jewel looked from the woman's chest to her own.  Mai had been right.
   'No one cares about your little bee stings.' She'd said it to Jewel when
she walked up on her after cleaning her clothes at the lake.
   It wasn't her 'bee stings' Jewel cared about hiding.
   The woman behind her chuckled and gently pulled at a section of Jewel's
hair as long as her hand.  "Don't you worry about those darling.  You've
still got some growing on you.  I can see it.  It could be worse." She
hummed with a little giggle to herself and took off from there.  "Must be
hard, with you being so tall.  Men thinking you've matured just because you
can look them in the eye.  I've seen hair like this before, too.  You're
lucky to be in my hands.  It's not nearly as damaged as it looks, just
needs some love.  Tragedy really.  I'll fix it though.  I'd ask what you've
been doing to it, but I saw you come in."
   Jewel stared blankly at the water, not sure what to say to this woman.
   "Life of a wanderer, probably missed out on your own culture.  That's
the trouble with all this travel and crossing.  It's bad enough to be
orphaned, but then separated from your people and your home land." She
chuckled.  "Look at that blank face.  Wanderers have all lost something
along the way.  That's what sets them to moving.  Well, unless you're one
of those snow hairs.  They never stay in one place.  I bet you have a touch
of that in you with those gorgeous pale eyes.  Don't worry about a thing,
vanilla bean.  I'll have you looking tame and civilized in no time." She
guided Jewel's head to turn with her finger.  "Just right.  Well, you have
far more length than it appears.  Such a beautiful golden highlight.  Soon
as I get it looking healthy, you'll see." A cool finger touched her
sensitive shoulder.  "I'll make sure to get a moisturizer for you.  You
look burnt.  It won't take though.  How long have you been on the road?"
   Four moons and a quarter since the death of the six.
   "Not much for talking?  Well, that's just fine.  Are you staying here? I
live near here myself, but I just love coming to the public baths and
watching the people come through.  It's slow in here now, but you should
see the place in a few hours.  It just makes my night when a waif like you
comes along.  That's why I learned to care for all kinds.  Believe me
vanilla bean, I've seen worse, so don't you worry.  You know..."
   It was the first quiet moment.  What was she supposed to know?  Jewel
looked at her in question.
   The large woman smiled.  "I know it's not my place, but I saw that girl
that brought you in here.  She's just dreadful.  I know the type.  Thinks
she's Premier of the Palace everywhere she goes.  There is always one of
them, as if they're fresh out the water.  She'll stab you in the back at
the first chance.  Status hungry, jealous fish.  I know that look.  You're
a young woman yet, don't let her get the best of you."
   Jewel focused on the tendrils of steam coming from the bath.  The wisps
of water twisted, turned, and dissipated, but she also listened.  None of
the others talked nearly as much as this.  The woman's stories and
observations droned on, tales of other travelers and their personalities.
She didn't know the things she spoke of: drama, gossip, attitudes,
betrayal.
   It was very useful information.
   ***
   Mai collapsed onto Taradon's chest, breathed deep, and moaned.  "Even
all cleaned up you smell like a day in the woods."
   "Is that a problem?"
   "Problem?  You're delicious!" Mai covered his chest in kisses and tiny
flicks of her tongue.  "May I please have some more, Sir?"
   She needed only to ask.  Taradon rolled until she was on her back.  He
whispered his silent and frequent wish: please, please let her be the one.
He just needed a reason to slow down and if it was snobby, opinionated,
impetuous, rough-housing Mai, then he would be a great provider for her.
   He'd made her moan and scream until she was wrung dry.  They cleaned up
and relaxed, tended to their packs.
   As the evening lengthened, the others trickled back to the room.  Basir
eased into his bed.  Aron came back nearly an hour after that, his steps
slightly unsure and smelling of liquor and willing women, but he'd made it
to his bed without incident.
   Taradon craned his neck to look at Jewel's empty bed.  Mai lay in the
crook of his arm, soundly asleep.  He rocked her shoulder.
   Mai groaned.
   "Where did you send Jewel?"
   "Bath," she muttered.
   "Did you leave her with money?"
   She grunted a negative reply.
   Taradon clenched his fist as he rose from the bed.
   "Don't," she muttered.  She rose up to one of her elbows and frowned as
he dressed.  "Where are you going?"
   "To get her."
   "She's not with us.  She needs to find work ...  something to do ... 
some," Mai mumbled as sleep drew her back to the bed.
   Taradon left the room.  He couldn't enter the female baths, but he could
request she be brought to the door.  He weighted Jewel's money is his hand
while he slipped out the room.  The decision to stay in Mirsa was Jewel's
to make, not for Mai to force on her.
   Taradon stopped short just as he turned down the corridor to the women's
bath.  Jewel sat in the court yard of the inn as two rotund older women
talked over her.  She was watching both women speak while she sipped
something from a cup.
   Jewel's pale eyes met his immediately.  She was dressed in different,
better fitting clothing, long flowing pants, a long-sleeved, full-bodied
embroidered shirt that hid her thinness, but she wasn't as thin as the day
he met her.  He could get a hint of her shape.  Her hair was glowing now
that it had been cleaned and styled.  It was sleek and shiny in several
shoulder length braided strands the color of golden wheat.  Each strand had
been decorated with soft fabric ties.  Her skin shimmered with a colorful
glow...  someone had rubbed a decorative balm reserved for women of
pleasure on her skin.
   Taradon found his footing and continued toward her.  She looked like one
of the mountain people - all sun rays through icicles.  He'd been taken by
her when she was a dust covered lump in the corner, but now...
   The two women had stopped talking and were staring at him.
   "I apologize if she gave you any trouble," Taradon said.
   "Trouble?" The larger woman laughed.  "Honey, she's no trouble.  Show
him, Vanilla Bean."
   Jewel held up a small pouch of Mirsa coin.
   "Manners," the red head chastised.  "I'm Olivia and this is my good
friend Alice.  Vanilla Bean is a fast learner.  I could tell.  She's keen."
Olivia praised.  "Wish I could keep her here, but she won't have it."
   "We could run a house of our own," Alice opined.
   "Vanilla Bean?"
   "She doesn't say much.  Her type can be shy." Olivia winked at Jewel. 
"You don't have to call her name to get her to listen.  Never doubt it,
information doesn't get past her."
   "You can feel her listening."
   Taradon stood beside Jewel's chair.  "This is your share.  Mai neglected
to give it to you.  It's Mirsa currency.  Try to spend as much of it as you
can here before we leave."
   Alive crooned and her eyes grew wide.  "Oh, Vanilla Bean, I know where
you can go.  You need some sturdy things more suited to your structure."
   Jewel leaned forward and placed her hand on Alice's.  Taradon caught the
scent of lemons and spring flowers coming from her skin.  "Thank you for
teaching me."
   "Oh, what a cute little voice.  Isn't she adorable?" Alice blushed. 
"You remember what we told you."
   Jewel set down her tea and rose.  They said their goodbyes and walked
back to the room.
   "You don't have to stay here," he whispered to her.
   She looked at him with the barest of smiles.
   "Mai has you all wrong," he whispered.  "You can stay with us as long as
you want." Taradon reached out, thinking to pat her on the shoulder, but
his arm wrapped around her waist.  He had the sudden notion to pull her
body close to his and kiss her on those silent lips.  That meant nothing,
the urge to kiss a woman was one thing, doing it, quite another.  "You look
beautiful, like a Jewel."
   She looked to the door and took a step away from him, backed out of his
embrace.  He thought it was a movement of rejection, but Mai opened the
room door and looked out, her face puffy with sleep.
   "Come on," Taradon whispered as he took her hand and led her in the
room.
   She followed him inside and moved over to her bed.
   Taradon helped her prepare her bed for sleep, ignoring Mai's glower.  He
made his movements plain for her to see.  Jewel watched him with rapt
attention.  Yes, as the women who had affectionately called her Vanilla
Bean had said, she was a viciously fast learner, always listening,
watching, observing.  "Sleep well."
   Taradon eased back into his own bed with Mai and felt resentment pouring
into his blood.  He couldn't have children, couldn't start a family, but
that was okay.  He could find a place for Jewel.
   Taradon grinned as he drifted off to sleep.  He could imagine her
tasting of freshly churned cream and lemon flakes.  Taradon drifted off,
the pleasant thoughts putting a slight grin on his face.  He would protect
her and care for his Vanilla Bean.
   -_ Deceiver _-
   Jewel woke with the group.  As she understood it, they preferred to
spend everything they earned in the city before leaving.  They carried
bought items for trade or for use along the road, portable food, newer
supplies, better gear.
   "If we don't find anything between cities, then we try to find work
during our stay," Taradon explained over their morning meal.
   "It's not the best option," Aron added.  "Most places have a stay
restriction on visitors, shorter for wanderers."
   "I don't blame them."
   After morning meal they took back to the shops.  Jewel felt better after
another visit to the baths.  The salves they rubbed onto her skin not only
made her sparkle, but it eased the sting of her burned skin.  She used her
money to buy better clothing as well.  She was able to get rid of the
things she's collected in Nodel.  This was better.  Those things were
starting to feel tight around her body.
   Mai laughed as Jewel joined them at the knife maker's.  "Figures."
   "What?" Aron asked.
   "Do you see her this morning?"
   "Yeah, girl cleans up nice."
   "Pfft.  Spider got taken in by whores.  She's like a fucking child. 
Just clings to whatever hand is held out to her.  She's wearing diamond
salve."
   Aron shook his head and chuckled.  "I'm pretty sure she can hear you."
   "Look at me, caring.  Oh, wait.  No, I don't."
   Jewel fell back as she felt the first warnings, a dizziness in her mind.
She eased away from the shop and spotted a place where she could sit
unnoticed as her body trembled.  They were busy at the knife marker's.  No
one would notice she was missing.
   She sighed inwardly at her logic.  Taradon would notice.  He'd show up
just about...
   The solid foot falls of Taradon's boots sounded down the slightly damp
alleyway.  He turned the corner and leaned against the stone wall of the
building.  As typical, he said nothing until her full body tremors passed.
"Does this happen often?"
   "Yes." Jewel smoothed her clothing and pushed herself upright.
   "Take your time." Taradon handed her a sheathed knife.
   Jewel took it.  Her finger flipped open the leather holster and pulled
the blade free.  "If you're going to continue with us, you'll need your
own."
   She held the blade in her hand, 14 inches of dark metal with a hardwood
handle.  She ran her finger along the inlaid stone on the handle.  She held
her finger to the blade, tested the edge.
   "You'll go back to the shop.  I requested that he teach you how to
sharpen and care for it."
   Jewel nodded.  She tapped the stone in the handle.  "What is this?"
   "Jewels for a Jewel." Taradon brushed his hand over her clothes.  "I
think the salve makes you look magical."
   He heard her.  Was he angry with Mai again?
   "It does work wonders on sun damage though.  Did they tell you what they
use it for?"
   "Yes."
   "They did?" Taradon grinned and walked her back to the shop.  "Did you
understand?"
   The women said it made her natural smell stronger, and if a man were to
taste of her skin, he would not quickly leave her.  It helped a man's
recovery time and reduced the abrasiveness of passion, but Jewel did not
ask how.
   "I will one day," she whispered as they got closer to the others.
   "I bet." Taradon's voice was low.  She'd made his voice sound thick and
warm yet again.
   He introduced her to the knife maker and left her there to receive her
lesson.
   "He says you've never owned a hunting knife before.  Is that so?"
   She nodded.
   "Then we'll start from the beginning." The man was very gruff, but
honest.  He was proud of the knives he sold and very serious about their
proper handling.  "Keep your blade sheathed.  Don't play with it.  Always
cut away from you.  Don't put your fingers on the blade when you're
cutting." He gripped his knife and demonstrated how to cut with it.
   She'd seen Aron and Taradon use their knives in the same manner.
   "Keep your blade dry at all times.  Clean it, oil it.  Use this to keep
it sharp.  Now," he looked her glittery skin over as if for the first time
then grunted dismissively, "I'm going to sharpen your blade and give you a
sharpener to keep with you.  Walking around like that," his eyes scanned
her body, "you'll need it."
   ***
   When Jewel returned to the room she noticed the others repacking their
items.
   "First light?" Aron asked.
   Taradon nodded.  He rolled his tools into a pouch.  "Is the mule ready
for travel?"
   "Yes," Basir answered.  "Since last night.  Fit and well fed."
   "Jewel," Taradon looked over to her.  "Please find Mai and let her know
we need to bed down early.  Follow the music.  She's most likely there."
   Jewel stopped unlacing her boots and retied them.  The room had gone
silent, but she didn't acknowledge anyone before leaving the room again.
   Why doesn't he force her to answer him?  Did he tell them she couldn't?
Better that he didn't.  The less she said, the less she would reveal.
   She stepped out onto the walkway and listened for the music.  She
scanned the streets and followed the sound.  She slowly edged toward the
'back' of Mirsa, further away from the gates and shops and markets, closer
to more homes, public areas.
   Jewel caught a flash of something that looked like Mai and turned.  She
heard the woman's nervous laugh.  She kept her foot steps light as she
approached.
   "Are you going to do this or not?" Mai pushed herself onto the man,
rubbed her body against his.  "I need it now."
   "Our maids will know.  They keep someone who can tell parentage."
   "We won't be here.  Come on.  I know you like this, and I'm ready. 
Think of it as a gift." Mai reached down between his legs and pulled him
toward her.  She spread her legs and sat down on him.
   Jewel stood in plain view of both Mai and the man she sat on.  Her mind
turned tumultuously as she tried to figure out what what she was seeing.
   Why would she do something like that out here?  What's parentage?  Ready
for what?
   Whatever they were doing.  It was quick.  The man grunted and arched his
hips upward.  He nodded to Jewel.  "You know her?"
   "Yes.  She's simple.  Don't mind her." Mai handed the man coins from her
pouch and adjusted her clothing.  She stomped over to Jewel.  "What do you
want?  What are you doing out here?"
   The man walked away from them, disappearing around a small row of
houses. He had the same skin and hair color as Taradon.
   "None of your concern, Spider." She pushed her way past Jewel.  "Fucking
cunt."
   Mai led the way.  Jewel sighed heavily as she worked the puzzle in her
mind.
   Why would she need something from him she couldn't get from Taradon? 
She does it with him all the time.  Why did he look like Taradon?
   Mai stopped just before they reached the inn.  She turned and looked at
Jewel.  "Get this, spider.  I know why you didn't want us going to Nodel.
You remember that.  You should find a way to leave us.  You didn't see
anything back there, and I don't know anything about the slaughter in
Nodel. Deal?"
   No one can know.
   She extended her hand to Mai.
   It has to be done, no matter the risk.
   What Mai did with other people didn't matter to her.  This was about
what she knew, and no one could know.  Zola may have forgotten to tell her
a great many things, but she never wavered on that point.
   "Deal then," Mai took her hand and shook it.  "Quit looking at me like
that." She chuckled and turned, fanning her black hair out behind her as
she skipped toward the inn.
   Did Taradon refuse to fertilize her?
   A feeling of triumph outweighed the trepidation of the pain that would
follow.
   "Miss me?" Mai asked with a forced note of cheerfulness.  She coughed
twice, two sharp barks, and tapped her chest with a wince.  "Wow, pardon."
   ***
   Laura looked out over the crowd.  Unfortunately, it had come to this. 
She'd moved on from putting a fire under one person to inspiring whole
groups, small militias, entire departments.  The problem was as bad, but
her diligent work to end the lives of these weapons had kept it from
getting out of hand.  She was finally getting the support she needed to get
rid of these monsters.
   Not long after she'd discovered the lab in Lansel, the paper work led
her to discover the feeder labs.  Small, shabby, run down places where
greater atrocities were created.
   Detractors had come after her.  These mad scientists thought she could
be pushed around.  The Premier had been there to witness her lose the men
that had traveled with her.  He'd seen the bloodshed first hand.  He could
bare witness to the danger these abilities posed.
   "What is most important is that the greatest danger to us is not each
other.  We are all given a gift, but there are others who seek to pervert
these gifts, to turn them into something ugly, something unnatural,
degrading.  What's worse is that these gifts are being extracted,
perverted, and destroyed in the bodies of children.  Children who are
easily controlled, easily silenced.  I am speaking of gross deviations, not
the normal anomalies present in our ancestral lineage."
   Laura unveiled an enlarged photo and the crowd gasped.  "This is what I
found in the wetlands or Borbie earlier this year.  This is what happens
when their experiments get away from them.  Otherwise, they murder the
children with their failed attempts.  Over and over, trying to trump the
natural process of evolution and birth.  In those rare persons whom this is
a born folly, they pervert their minds, forced them to do thing they should
never do."
   She put up another photo.  A child lay charred in a room turned black by
fire.
   "This has to stop.  These children are getting older and these tinkerers
are getting desperate.  They are abusing the gift of science and must be
punished.  People with abilities that have potentially dangerous
consequences need to be discovered, educated, and taught the value of
respecting others." She took a moment to calm down.  "I would now like to
take your questions."
   A man near the front of the audience stood.
   "Yes?" Laura opened her hand to him.
   "Is it true that these labs are all over the Krae?"
   "I can't be sure of that, but they are certainly wide spread.  They
often choose location close to several large cities and trade routes.  I
never imagined so many would take up the horror of creating these
monsters."
   A woman stood.  "How many have escaped?"
   "This is the good news.  None of them.  I have managed to contain these
facilities and help those who could be helped.  I believe that to be the
end of it.  Most primals are not creations, but those whose minds have
become deranged by natural disaster.  They regress to an animal like state
where they lash out at anything that disturbs them.  These creatures are
actually less prevalent than the local legends would have you believe. 
However, the danger presented by an escaped abominations would be worse."
   The questions continued and Laura did her best to answer them.  She
ended the formal presentation and stepped down from the lectern.  She spent
more time among the crowd answering individual concerns, letting others
know how they could help.
   "All I truly ask is that you think of the children out there as one of
your own - child or sibling.  Wouldn't you want them to be as safe as
possible?  What would you do to prevent someone from using that child as an
experiment?  What would you like to see available for their child if their
own abilities become too heavy a burden?"
   "Lady Cross."
   Laura turned to the familiar voice and saw Kemen, her very first ally.
He helped her see what was being done to the children, how they were being
tortured and killed, being turned into monsters.  "Kemen!  This is such a
jay." That joy faded as she saw his grave expression.
   "I have information I thought best to deliver in person.  Do we need to
speak in private?"
   "Not necessary.  I've have just finished briefing the room.  I even have
funding to recruit others."
   Those within ear shot drew near.  Whispers through the room brought
other conversations to a halt.
   "The lab in Nodel has been destroyed."
   "Not by us?"
   "All evidence seems to indicate that it may have been who or whatever
they held there." Kemen lowered his head.
   Laura paled and looked around for Victor.  Sensing her distress, the
young boy drew near and allowed himself to be held to her side.
   "The investigation is ongoing, but the early reports are not
encouraging. Raiders in the area claim they came across a survivor."
   She gasped, "Age?"
   "Adult, possibly female, by his account.  The raiders went mad, killed
themselves, each other, or their captives.  A few managed to run until some
other danger took them.  This man escaped.  He did not count her body among
those there.  Someone had cleared the camp of valuables.  I think she still
lives, and if he truly saw a woman, she may have witnessed the massacre in
Nodel.  The citizens of Nodel had no idea they had a facility in the area.
It was built much like a ground room.  Above ground, it looks like any
other large family domicile."
   "Something has escaped and there may be a witness.  Where is Nodel?"
   "Central Northern Alletiern, near the east coast."
   "We need to get there.  I'll need to speak with the Premier.  Obtain
visitation rights."
   "Already secured.  The people of Nodel are anxious to find out what
happened.  They've been hit with a suspicious illness.  It lasted for
several days, many died, others were bed ridden.  The plague appears to
have cleared completely.  Those who were still alive made the plea for help
even as I traveled there.  I have a team continuing with the investigation,
looking into the current location of this woman, where she may have
traveled."
   "Illness?  That isn't right." Laura looked around the room for an empty
chair.  One of the men brought one closer to her.  "That doesn't seem
likely.  Poison, perhaps, even still.  Are you sure?  No source was found?"
   "Many of them fell ill at once.  The lab is there.  The bodies are
there. The people in the facility were murdered the day people fell ill."
   "Murdered?"
   "Stabbed, down to the last person.  It seems they were closing up
anyway. They were disposing of the experiments.  Only one was left, but
records provide no clues as to age, appearance, or even a name.  They
assigned the children numbers.  According to the records, the last one
showed no abilities."
   Laura's brow wrinkled.  She was used to tales of changing temperatures,
moving objects, a talented turn of phrase, creating rain indoors.  She once
had the joyful opportunity to inform a little girl that it was perfectly
fine to help the flowers grow.
   But it couldn't always be that way.  That's what kept her up at night.
She pushed the memory of roaring fire, dry heat, and shrill screams from
her mind.  Eventually, someone was going to tamper with the other powers
... sickness, madness, illusion, and the very fabric of time.  She tasted
bile at the back of her throat a moment before she addressed the crowd.
   "If I may have everyone's attention..."
   <->
Written: November 2009
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
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