Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Bheymil Series
   By Destiny and Design, Part 3 of 3
   by Nysidra
   <->
   -_ At Sea _Intailu opened the compartment door.  Taradon rubbed his
bleary eyes.
   "We were boarded and searched," Intailu informed.  "All went well." He
stepped back, "this is Deesil.  He will attend to you during your stay."
   Taradon unfolded himself from the cramped space, followed by Jewel.  Her
face bore deep wrinkles from the crease in his clothing.  She had shifted
during her sleep to lay on him and would not be moved.
   "Sounds as if we're guests," Taradon stated.
   "You will be housed well, but this is not a leisure transport.  I have
trade to do in Chana, but then I will dock further south of Kabi.  Fifteen
days total.  The time should wash away the search for you.  Deesil will
help you find a place to fit in among the crew."
   Deesil, a tanned man with close cropped hair, pulled their items out
while Jewel and Taradon tied on their waist packs.  Deesil carried the
rest.
   "If someone asks about us?" Taradon asked.
   Intailu shook his head.  "My crew was briefed before the two of you
arrived.  I don't do secrets.  Too much time in too close quarters."
   "Very Liwian of you."
   "This is the sea," Intailu intoned, "this is the sea."
   They moved through the ship to a row of doors.  Intailu opened the door
to their room.  "When you lock it from the inside, no one can get in
without the code."
   He ushered Jewel and Taradon into the room.  It was roomier than Taradon
expected.  Against the inside wall was a bed, yet it was folded against the
wall revealing cabinets.  The hull of the ship had windows as large as a
those of a house, but they could only see the deep blue of the water. 
Beams of sunlight filtered down from above.  A closet opened to a personal
rest room and stand up shower.
   "When you have made yourself comfortable, Deesil will acquaint you with
the ship and her schedule." Intailu bowed to them before leaving the room.
   "I will give the two of you a few hours," Deesil added and left the room
as well.
   "Thank you," Taradon called after him.
   The door sealed with a soft click.
   "This is nice," Taradon leaned to the window and looked out at the
water.
   Jewel checked their bags.  Nothing seemed to have been taken.  She was
especially comforted by the contents of her case.  She opened it.  All the
strands were there.
   "You take the first shower."
   She grabbed her clothes to change and disappeared into the rest room.
   Taradon secured his items in the space allowed and eased to the floor.
He leaned his head against the window and stared at the passing fish.  The
glass was as thick as a wall and had a slight curve to it.  It provided a
much clearer view than he expected.  He couldn't name any of the marine
life that passed by.  Many of them were merely shadows as it seemed to be
late afternoon.  The only light coming into the room was from the filtered
sunlight in the water.  It cast a dark blue hue over the room.
   The water ran in the rest room.
   Why wasn't he sneaking in there to join her?  With any other female
there wouldn't have been the hesitation.  He would have been sure she
wanted him in return.  Taradon found it hard to shake off Aron's accusation
that she was only a child, naive and curious.  What Taradon wanted was more
than a child's worth of friendly exploration.  He needed a woman.
   Which of them was the Cross woman after?
   Taradon rubbed the stubble on his face.  What if Aron was wrong?  What
if she were merely shy?  Embarrassed?  A girl of her slight figure could
understandably feel paled in Mai's wake.  How many times did her exquisite
fingers wake him in the night?
   That was as far as she ever took it.  Taradon sighed and his look of
consternation deepened.
   Jewel did not linger in the shower.  She was out, dry, and dressed
within a few minutes.  He'd noticed she'd loosen her hair.  It was wet,
clinging in wavy tendrils to her face and shoulders.
   "Cold," she muttered as she searched her bag for a blanket.
   Taradon got up and opened the compartment.  Blankets were provided.  She
quickly pulled one out and wrapped it around her.
   "They typically are," Taradon grinned.  "Encourages conservation.  They
say it's good for the skin."
   She frowned and Taradon's grin deepened.  He grabbed his clothes, but he
didn't disappear into the rest room as she had.  The light was slowly
fading, making the room dim, but not dark enough to activate the light
stones.  Taradon undressed in the middle of the room.  He looked over his
shoulders and saw her eyes on him.
   She's seen all of him before, he reminded himself acerbically.  It was
her he'd seen little of.  Even if the warmest of days she dressed in
sleeves and pants.
   He was comfortable in her presence.  That was the important part. 
Taradon carried his change of clothes into the rest room.  Perhaps she
would follow his example one day.
   ***
   Jewel never missed an opportunity to watch Taradon undress.  The shape
and contour of his body fascinated her.  The soft navy light with its
undulating brightness danced over his rich dark skin.  She kept the smile
from reaching her face, but giddiness tumbled in her belly.
   He was so strong, capable, protective.
   Everyone else was gone now.  Just Taradon and her, away from others.
   She warmed under the blanket.  The fabric felt much thicker and heavier
than the travel blankets.  She liked it.
   She unwrapped herself and explored the room.  Taradon had stored his
things away and she followed his example.  Then she discovered how to
unlatch the bed.  Once the bed was down, it didn't allow access to the
compartments under it.
   She looked at the shelf revealed by the lowered bed.
   Everything in the room was secured from slipping or easy moving.  She
had to lift the chairs to position them.
   Jewel didn't pull out the light stones.  She didn't want then.
   "Warmer?" He asked.  He exited the restroom as she was checking out the
sitting table.
   She nodded.
   Taradon sat on the couch.  "Come over here."
   She got up from the table and sat beside him.  He didn't seem cold at
all.  He'd removed his bandage.  She touched the wound gently.  It was open
as if he'd scrubbed it in the water.  The skin around it felt warm to the
touch.
   "Does it hurt?"
   "Yes.  They used burning powder.  The area will be numb a while."
   Jewel positioned herself closer to the slash.  She kissed his arm just
over the wound.  He flinched slightly, but not away from her.
   "Don't ask questions," she whispered before extending her tongue to the
wound.  The flesh felt cool, tasted acrid.  She tasted the new blood, the
slickness of mucus.
   Please work.
   She kissed and tongued the wound like he kissed her mouth, gently
working her tongue through the slash.
   Taradon's heart raced and he perspired.  It didn't seem to be from fear.
She was hurting him, but he didn't complain.  He did not question.  He did
not move.
   Convinced she'd done all she could, Jewel placed a final kiss above the
wound.
   She stood, the light had faded completely, but she did not need the
light to find the restroom.  He didn't follow.
   She kneeled by the waste receptacle.  If it worked, if she had done it
correctly, then this was going to hurt.  She welcomed the pain.  That first
retch was so powerful that it brought tears to her eyes.  She tossed up
what little she had managed to eat, the liquids she drank, and then the
slime, a burning dark film.
   It won't last long.  She promised herself as her back ached as sweat
dripped from her face.  Her body tensed and shook with force.
   Minutes later she retched the last of the poison.  She was weak, wrung
dry, and drenched in fresh sweat.
   She stood and used the basin to splash her face with water.  She scraped
the taste from her tongue and rubbed mint powder onto her gums to banish
the smell.
   The door to the restroom had remained open.  He was still on the couch.
   Jewel returned, sat beside him, but she didn't touch him.  She couldn't
bare the thought of how she'd react to him pushing away from her.
   Taradon reached out and pulled her across his lap and into his arms.  He
rested his head on her chest, cradled her with his good arm.
   He didn't say a word.
   What is he thinking?
   ***
   Nothing.
   Time passed in a set of experiences.  He'd sat stunned as she kissed his
painfully enflamed wound.  He felt the tingle seep into his muscles as her
wet tongue probed the poisoned flesh.  Through the haze of pain, the shock,
it did not escape him how well that tongue might perform in other places.
   He remained in his state of shock while she disappeared.  He listened to
her tossing up what little her system had to offer.  Heard water splashing
a few minutes after that.
   She returned to his side.
   It wasn't a thought, just a decision.  He wanted her near him.  He
pulled her into his arms, held her.  Put his head to her body and listened
to her breathe.
   As the darkness of evening settled fully over them, he figured it out
for himself.  She did what she knew how: to clean a wound, then, to avoid
possibly infecting herself, she made herself sick.  So she had a touch of
healing saliva.  Some people did, it wasn't so strange.  That's why she got
up calmly, didn't run.
   She always knew when she was about to be sick.  None of Jewel's ailments
took her by surprise.
   Had someone hurt her after learning what she was?  That didn't matter to
him.  Her behavior was strange but endearing.  Also helpful.  The burn had
receded, feeling returned to his fingertips.
   Three knocks.
   Taradon jerked awake.  He'd fallen asleep?
   Three more knocks.
   Jewel stood and opened the door.
   Deesil walked inside and opened a panel.  With the shift of a lever,
tiny points of light cast a soft gray blue glow over the main sections of
the room.
   "So that's what that does," Taradon said.
   "New to life at sea?" Deesil asked.
   "New to this ship," Taradon answered.  "I traveled on more crudely
fashioned vessels."
   Deesil smiled.  "No need to bring anything.  We'll start with a tour and
then a meal."
   The tour ended at the deck.  The path all along the way had been
illuminate a few steps ahead with the lights fading as they left.  On the
deck he sea was black in its darkness, overhead the stars were covered by
rolling thin clouds.
   "The moon will be up soon," Deesil said.  "Those clouds are the tail end
of a storm."
   "How do you see other ships?"
   "Sensors, sound waves.  Other vessels have a wave signature.  Our
systems also determine if there are whales, get any report of unsavory
weather.  The Adelaide is a Liwian vessel.  All Liwian vessels can
communicate in this manner."
   Back down, they entered the dining hall.  Meals had been prepared for
Jewel and Taradon specifically.  The hall was mostly empty otherwise.  They
ate while Deesil detailed the work that was available for them.
   Taradon noticed Deesil took several long looks at his shoulder.  Taradon
inspected it when the man turned his back.  The skin around it was red, but
not as much as it had been earlier.  The blood flow had stopped and was
wound was nearly closed.
   "I would have offered a salve," Deesil noted, "but I see you carry your
own.  You should be fit within a week at that rate.  I'd be careful with it
though.  Sometimes those salves make you forget how deep the wound was to
begin with, yeah?"
   Taradon nodded.  "Yeah.  I would prefer that whatever we do, we do
together."
   Deesil and Taradon spoke at length about the workings of the vessel
while Jewel listened.
   "I will come by to get you just after sunrise." Deesil stated as he
walked them back to their room.  "You'll find your way around here soon
enough, so don't worry too much about memorization."
   Taradon undressed, but found himself reluctant to wear his sleeping
trousers.  A bed, quality bedding, security, seclusion.  These weren't
luxuries he'd get often.
   Jewel dressed in a long sleeping gown and slept nearest the wall, curled
up in a ball.
   He slid under the heavy blankets, skin against clean, fresh linen.  He
extended his arms to find Jewel and turned her onto her back.
   His hand grazed up her body until he found the line of her jaw.  He drew
himself up to her and kissed her lips, a gentle, evening kiss.  He just
wanted her to feel how glad he was that she was okay, that they were okay.
   She grabbed his hand when he pulled away.
   Taradon propped himself up on his elbow, leaned over her, and waited
until she relaxed as his lips brushed hers.  With his other hand he
caressed her thigh and she tensed.
   "Pull your gown up and open your legs," he whispered.  "I want to touch
you." Just saying the words sent his pulse into overdrive.  Would she
listen?  Refuse him?
   He waited as she shifted under him, inched the gown up, parted her legs.
He was patient until her legs were as wide apart as he wanted them.
   "Thank you." He licked her ear lobe and his hands eased down through the
soft curls that covered her mound.  He moaned heavily as his finger slid
over her outer lips.  Two signs of both maturity and arousal erased all of
Taradon's doubts.  His fingers slid up over the stub of her clitoris and
then back down into a searing pool.  His muscles rippled with a surge of
lust as he circled the folds of her vagina.  He groaned with delight and
nipped her neck.
   He kissed her deep as his fingers slid back and forth along her slit,
circling her clitoris and back down again.  He wanted to thrust his fingers
inside her.  He wanted to lick her the way she'd licked him.  He wanted to
sink into her warmth until her arousal coated his balls.
   Her hips rocked against his hand as she panted.  This was all he would
do, he promised himself.  Just this.  Each time she gasped his mind reeled.
It was a more beautiful sound than he imagined.  This was not any woman. 
His kisses trailed to her neck, her shoulder.  She trembled under him,
moaning with a soft sigh that made his head swim.
   He felt as if the very air between them gained a charge.  Something
inside her flowing into him.  But he was just imagining things, Taradon
smirked to himself.  He quickened the pace of his fingers, applied just a
bit more pressure.  He'd brought her to the edge and now he was going to
take her over it.
   Jewel tensed, moaned, and bucked under him.  He bit her and felt a jolt
through his body.  They were both moaning with the ecstasy of release.
   Taradon kissed the bite he made as she panted under him.  She'd gone
limp, a lazy smile on her face.  He didn't move his hand, not just yet. 
For a long while, Taradon thought they would drift off to sleep like that.
   "I really like that," she whispered, a strange awe in her voice.
   "Have you never had an orgasm?"
   "Never," she drew a shaky breath.  "None of it."
   Taradon kissed her again.  He applauded his hesitancy.  "The first of
many," he promised.  "I'm going to take care of you, Jewel."
   "You do."
   He gathered her in his arms.  "I want you as my mate."
   And like that, she withdrew.  She hadn't moved, didn't pull away from
him, but she had shut down.
   Epithets and curses streamed into his mind as he scolded his stupidity.
   "Is that all there is to it?" Her voice sounded small.
   "To me, yes, and for you to accept."
   "I don't know what it means."
   "Like ink under your skin, except sane this time.  I'm asking you.  I
don't want to assume that's what you want.  I vow to kill anyone who tries
to hurt you.  I will protect and cherish you.  I," but that was all he had
to offer.  If she wanted to have children of her own...  How could he speak
so rashly?  Taradon closed his eyes.
   "I want to be your mate." She put her arms around him.  "I will protect
and cherish you.  I will kill anyone who tries to hurt you."
   Taradon wanted to laugh at the assertion, make light of her words, but
she didn't intend them as a joke.  Instead he kissed her and pulled the
blanket over their bodies.  He let those words be the last between them as
he drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.
   ***
   Jewel was curled on the couch when Taradon woke.  She looked to have
already dressed for the day.  Taradon drug himself out of bed and dropped
down next to her.  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her on the head.
They sat that way for several minutes in silence and Taradon found he
cherished her quiet presence.
   Deesil escorted them to morning meal.  Then they worked on the ship
together.  Jewel did not warm to the crew as Taradon thought she might. 
She remained silent, withdrawn, and observant.  When she did have
questions, she posed them to Taradon, and only when they were alone.
   -_ Batan Farm _-
   Laura Cross strained to keep her tone civil.  "Which way did they go?"
   "We lost their trail at the pier.  We did a search of every vessel
docked there, but each one turned out clean.  They must have taken off on
foot."
   "Past one of your guards?"
   "We did not search the transports, just the ships.  There is a small
chance they are still in the city.  I assure you, Lady Cross, I do not want
to be responsible for letting this creature loose."
   Laura shook her head.  "Alletiern, the center of analytics and knowledge
and such profound peace is harboring one of the greatest threats to the
Krae.  This corruption will take root and only spread.  I need this Taradon
person found.  It is a matter of safety for the entire Krae.  Either him,
or that woman he is with knows something.  Why else would they have ran?"
   ***
   The time at sea did them well.  Several days and night of good sleep,
rest, and work had both of them feeling healthy and refreshed.  They
reached the dock and returned to traveling.  The port they disembarked on
was at a small fishing village.  They only stopped long enough to do a few
hours of trade before heading out again.  This place did not have high
gates or guards.
   The trouble didn't come until they tried to check into a city.  They
were running within the hour.  Taradon's name has been issued as a person
of interest.  They beat out the small city guard.  Well rested from their
time at sea, they were in top condition to keep a good pace on the road.
   It started out that way.  Six days later, the driving pace ran them into
the ground.  The rain had started several hours ago and the further they
traveled, the harder the rain came down.
   "Stop," Taradon grunted, holding the screaming stitch in his side.
   Jewel turned around and walked back over to him.
   "The rain," he put an arm out to steady himself.  "It will help to keep
them from tracking us."
   It was doing more than that.  Their clothing weighed heavy and though
their bags were waterproofed, they seemed heavier as well.  While the wound
on his shoulder had healed over perfectly, he had new injuries to contend
with and they were burning mad.
   Jewel shivered as she stood there, waiting for his instruction.
   He shuffled them off the path, through the low shrubs and came to rest
on the ground with a slosh.  They no longer carried items for making a
shelter.  He had no means of protecting them from the rain.
   Now that they had stopped, his muscles cramped and jerked in protest.
   ***
   Jewel stood there in the rain as Taradon collapsed on the ground.  She
thought he would say something, give her some instruction, but there was
such profound pain in his face.  His hand gripped his thigh and cradled his
midsection.
   Taradon groaned as his other muscles rebelled against him.
   Jewel sat near him.  She pulled him to her though he shifted away from
her at first.
   He didn't get upset with her the first time.  Perhaps she could try
again.  When she was near him, the backlash was not as painful.
   She went to the ground beside him and put her arm around his shoulders.
He shifted away, but she pulled harder and won out.  His massive bulk
shuddered in her hold.
   ***
   Taradon ceased struggling and allowed Jewel to hold him.  She curled her
body around his.  The tighter she held him, the more his muscles seemed to
calm.  He took comfort in the coincidence, as if the very act of being near
her could soothe him.
   Her wet curls clung to his face.  She no longer wore her hair twisted,
as they found it was too descriptive.  The water tamed the frizz until it
was just a mass of golden waves clinging to her shoulders.
   She was still shivering so Taradon extended his arms to hug her to him
as well.  His cheek rested on her chest.  This, still was better than what
may have happened in Kabi.  He was going to get them somewhere safe.  Where
no one would bother them.
   Taradon experienced a dull ache in his chest when he thought of someone
taking her away.  Just the thought of losing her seemed to hit him harder
than the reality of losing Mai.
   They fell asleep curled with each other, raining now drizzling down on
them.
   ***
   "Hello out there." A man halfway between them and a transport on the
road waved his arms back and forth.
   Taradon scanned the area around them.
   "You breathing?" The man asked.
   Taradon pulled himself away from Jewel.  Splatters of mud from the now
gone rain covered them both.
   "We're breathing," he groaned.
   The man held up a canister and shook it in offering.
   Taradon approached with care, waiting for the protest of pain, but none
of that came.  He felt refreshed.  Even his torn leg muscle from yesterday
did not complain.  He looked over the carriage, the eyes peeking out at him
from the openings.  He accepted the canister and drank the water within.
   "Name's Ostar.  Where are you headed, traveler?"
   "Not sure anymore.  We got turned around in the storm.  Lost our mount,
most of our equipment with him." He handed the canister back.
   "Keep it." Ostar prompted.  "Your companion may have need of it.  We're
headed to Batan farm.  Nearest civil place to where you are now.  We'd be
happy to give you a lift."
   "Why is that?"
   "There is but three of us.  With you two, we have better odds of getting
work, better sleeping arrangements too.  Five is a solid number."
   "Work farm?"
   "A good month or two of labor.  We try to make it by this way each
year."
   Taradon looked back to Jewel.  She was awake and watching them.  He
signaled her to come along, and she collected their bags.  "Sounds like a
solid plan.  Better than wandering out here another day."
   Taradon handed Jewel the water and told her the details as they walked
to the transport.  He took her hand in his and gave it a reassuring
squeeze.
   "Bethany, Kaffir, this is..." Ostar looked to the pair.
   "Taradon and Jewel," he answered, instantly wishing he could have
thought of different names for them.
   "They agreed to accompany us to Batan."
   "Apologies for our state," Taradon said as they climbed into the
carriage.  Ostar took his place at the driver's seat.
   "Been there," Kaffir said.  He reached inside a woven basket and pulled
out rolls of bread and orange fruit.
   "Thank you," Taradon said graciously.  The last few days had left little
time for eating, and then, not very much of it.
   Jewel preferred the fruit, taking small bites while looking around the
carriage.
   The road to Batan farm was several hours.  They spent the better part of
the day in silence, each of them catching bits of a nap between light
conversation.  By late afternoon the carriage slowed to a stop.  There was
a line of people ahead, most of them in small huddles, making the moderate
line toward the farm gate.
   "Not too much competition," Ostar reported cheerfully.  "Maybe the rains
worked in our favor."
   Standing in line at the gate was another ordeal, but one Taradon
preferred to running and falling asleep in the dirt.  His mind wandered
back to that night.  Both of them had been in terrible shape, and yet, the
morning had found them refreshed.
   Ostar spoke with the hardy woman at the gate, motioning at them.  The
smile on his face as he walked back was all the answer Taradon needed.
   "No competition at all.  Seems they are short on workers." He dangled a
set of keys.  "We've got a cottage to ourselves.  Here, Bethany, you take
the map.  We'll take the carriage there.  It's off to the west."
   Taradon and Jewel shared one of the three rooms.  They set what little
they had with them aside and stood around, neither of them saying anything.
   Questions unnerved her, and the last thing he wanted was to make her
uncomfortable.  However, those were the only ones he had in mind.
   Ostar knocked and Taradon opened the door.  "We decided that it's been a
rough night for the two of you.  There's one bath.  You and your companion
may have the first crack on it.  We'll get our instruction at the morning
meal.  We have enough food to share tonight if you'd like to join us."
   "Thank you.  We'll be quick about it."
   ***
   Jewel finished her shower and sat on the floor beside the bed.  She
began parting her wet hair and knotting it in sections.  There had been so
much dirt and leaves in her hair that she had to wash twice.
   She was still working on her hair when Taradon entered the room.  She
was wearing a short sleeved dressing gown and the sun filtered in through
the window and seemed to set her skin aglow.  Her skin was much richer,
darker.  Only the persistent effort of the sun had turned her ghost white
skin a pale apricot.  He stood there in silence and watched her slender
fingers work.
   She'd barely met his eyes or spoke to him all day.  Did the people and
the place unnerve her that much?
   Jewel worked through the sections of her hair automatically.  She
secured the ends of her hair under each knot.  Taradon stood there watching
her and she waited for him to ask her about last night.  The questions
never came.  He'd talked with the strangers and asked more questions of
them than he ever asked of her.
   Doesn't he suspect her?  If not, why?
   She certainly suspected herself.  She had set out just to help him, but
ended up doing so much more.  This wasn't something she'd ever practiced or
tried.  All she wanted was to ease his pain and he looked better, he walked
without a limp.  She even felt better.  She'd been waiting all day and
there hadn't been a backlash.
   Jewel finished her hair and moved to her bags.  She began pulling things
out.  She'd need to wash many of the items again.  They were musty and
rank. Few items were decent enough to wear.
   Her eyes darted out the window to Bethany and Kaffir.  The strangers
were pulling items from the carriage and into the cottage.  They didn't
seem concerned with Jewel and Taradon at all.
   She looked over her shoulder.  Taradon was still standing there.  He
hadn't dressed and his hair was damp.  She had only meant to glance, but
she couldn't look away.  She thought about the several nights they spent
together on the ship, his arms wrapped around her, his kisses on her body.
The way he made her happy, the many ways.
   They hadn't done much more than touch each other and Jewel knew it was
her fault.  As good as he made her feel she was scared to let him much
closer.  The experience had made her comfortable around him.  There were
things she'd nearly told him that she shouldn't.  She felt like she had
nothing to hide from him, but she knew better.
   There were things she needed to hide, even from him.
   "What are you thinking?" Taradon asked with a smirk.
   Jewel turned back to her gear, but she could still see him in her mind,
the curls of dark brown hair over his barrel chest, every part of him thick
and substantive.  Jewel looked at her own arm.  Her worm soft limbs had
gained definition, if not any more flesh.  Her new muscles stood out in
sharp relief.
   She smelled something like newly turned ground mixed with that moment
just after a spring rain and turned to see Taradon stretched out above her
on the bed.  He was still undressed.
   "You look beautiful." Taradon stated with a smile.
   Jewel sat near him on the bed.  The muscles in her throat moved, but her
mouth refused to open.  What would she say?
   Taradon's fingers brushed her throat and up to her lips.  "Just lie down
with me.  Save all that for later."
   Jewel stretched out beside him, but she could not relax.  She wanted to
tell him.  She wanted him to protect her like he said he would.  She closed
her eyes with a long sigh.
   He would kill you if he knew.  No one can know.
   But maybe...
   Never.
   ***
   During morning meal all the workers and residents of Batan farm met in a
large barn around several tables.  People volunteered to help serve the
food.  As they ate, the owner of the farm split them into sections of the
farm and issued duties.
   "We'll meet again here twice more.  You'll have your midday meal,
something small and light, plenty of fluids, then again for evening meal.
This is how we'll do it until the job is done.  You will all be paid the
agreed upon flat rate plus a bonus for harvesting rate.  Thank you all for
coming."
   "It's amazing they've kept running this long," Bethany marveled.
   "Why is that?" Taradon asked.
   "The farms in this area have trouble.  When they get too big, the
problems only get worse.  Some people think it's the Oani."
   "It is," Kaffir mumbled.
   "But," Bethany rolled her eyes, "there are things other than the Oani.
Further south, there's are lands that are more rich, but untouchable.  No
one can do anything with the land at all.  It's terrible, because there are
cities with growing populations that could thrive off it.  Something is
using the land for itself."
   "It's a protection by the Oani," Kaffir said.
   "I don't buy it.  Other cities grow every day."
   "Nathan tried to settle there," Ostar added.  "Remember?"
   "Yeah."
   "Well, what he experienced wasn't the Oani.  If the Oani make a move
then we don't act against it.  He tried to work on the land, and well, he
says it feels as if something is about to attack him.  He says it's too
dangerous out there."
   "I don't believe that," Kaffir laughed.  "It may be dangerous, but it's
because the real owners have spread rumors and seeded it with predators to
keep something there secret.  That makes more sense.  It happens all over
the Krae."
   "What do you think this land would grow?" Taradon asked.
   All of them shrugged.
   "You can see how rich the southern cities could be." Bethany eventually
answered.  "With the hills as they are it's as if you're staring at
untouchable banquets."
   "I hear the land there could support anything," Ostar said.  "It could
support itself like its own region.  Probably why the ancestrals like it."
   Taradon looked to Ostar in question.
   "They harbor ancestrals in Lisper.  Nearest southern city you can get to
the untouched land."
   Kaffir shook his head.  "Whatever it is, the city of Lisper isn't in the
business of letting anyone know.  It's a ruse to remain a small city next
to a beautiful vista."
   "Harbor or educate?" Taradon asked.  He looked to Jewel and whispered.
"Ancestrals are what some take to calling primals, those born with--"
   "With the traits our ancestors possessed.  It's not a deformity,"
Bethany stared at Taradon, waiting for his to disagree.
   "Harbor," Ostar answered.
   Kaffir wiped his mouth.  "These are only rumors.  I don't know anyone
who has actually seen or heard of this place.  Lisper has its own number of
talented people just like any other place.  Ancestral is the fairy tale
that somewhere out there is a primal that hasn't gone completely insane."
   "The land is sacred ground." Bethany said.  "That's why it's being
protected.  By Lisper, the Oani, or the ancestrals."
   "All ground is sacred," Ostar chided.
   Taradon looked to Jewel, but she kept her gaze to her food, pretending
to be interested in the meat and dumplings swimming in broth.  He knew she
was only going to drink the liquid and leave the rest, if that much.  He
reached into his pocket and felt for the fruit he'd put there earlier and
placed it into her lap under the table.
   She felt for it and caressed his hand a moment before hiding the fruit.
   ***
   What began as a new and interesting task to learn quickly became rote
and repetitive.  Jewel's interest in the labor waned by day two.  She
wanted to get away from all these people with all their staring and
questions.  If she had not heard the same question asked several times of
several people, she would have been far more defensive.
   She didn't talk.  Not at all.  That solved her problems.  All questions
were then Taradon's to answer, and he refused to do so.  He was her shield
against their prying curiosity.
   The food was the same each day.  The tasks, the same.  Muscles that were
used to the rigors of travel and ship work found new weaknesses and each
night brought new aches.  Her tremors were the same, her panic attacks, her
difficulty breathing, her loss of time.  She had become much better at
predicting them, working around them, hiding herself in a corner like
frightened prey, covering any and all signs of weakness, from everyone but
him.
   What made all of her endurance worth it was after the evening meal, the
walk back to the cottage, dressing down for the evening, and sliding into
bed beside Taradon.
   Exhaustion usually pulled them down to sleep within minutes.  The
intimacy of kisses, bites, hugs, and late night whispers were not a luxury
their tired minds and bodies could afford.  Jewel didn't mind the way he
nestled himself against her, the way his hands wrapped around her body.  He
made her feel wanted, safe, secure, protected.
   Jewel closed her eyes and thought back to their night on the ship.  She
was aching all over, her body seemed to throb with pain, but Taradon's
words gave her the strength to endure: "You'll get used to it, just the way
you got used to traveling, the way you got used to the sway of the ship. 
It takes time."
   Looking back to their time at sea, it didn't seem to take much time at
all.  He had been right.  He was right then, and he was right now.  She was
feeling better already, not as tired as usual.
   However, that meant she wasn't falling asleep, and she needed to get
some rest.
   Taradon kissed her on her cheek.  "You're squirming."
   When his lips brushed hers, a cool warmth rushed through her belly, up
through her chest, and then out through her mouth.
   Jewel giggled.  He kissed her all the time, but just that time, it felt
different.
   Her laughter surprised them both.  Taradon froze as if the sound had
come from somewhere else in the room.  He sat up and looked down at her.
   Jewel couldn't explain it either.  It was like a sudden breeze turning
over in her body.
   He didn't ask her to explain.  He leaned down and brushed his lips
against her cheek.
   She smiled.  She enjoyed his touch, the rough stubble of his cheek.  She
missed the way he was with her.  When he kissed her ear it was like an
attack on her whole body.  It tickled.
   She giggled again, trying to keep quiet, but it wouldn't stay inside.
   Taradon put his lips just to hers when she calmed down and kissed her.
"You have a beautiful laugh."
   Jewel liked the sound as well.  It had been a very long time since she
laughed.  There were a few times, left to her own, when some small game
brought a moment of joy, but nothing like this, nothing made her feel like
this.
   Would he touch her again too?
   The thought caused a butterfly flutter in her lower belly.
   Taradon kissed her again, hesitantly, his tongue opening her mouth to
his, his fingers brushing her cheek.
   They eventually fell asleep, playing with each other through kisses and
innocent caresses.
   ***
   The next night Jewel lay in bed hoping for more.  More than just a kiss,
just a touch.  She already had more than Mai, but not as much either.  She
stared at the moonlight on the wall.  Something was missing and she wanted
it.
   She wanted what he did with Mai.
   Really?  Are you sure?
   Yes.
   That isn't a good idea.  It won't end well.
   She wanted him.  Now.
   "Are you all right?" Taradon whispered.
   No.
   "Look at me."
   Go to sleep.  Jewel urged herself.  Just close your eyes.
   Jewel turned on her side and looked at Taradon.
   "Talk to me, Jewel."
   Jewel sighed heavily.  There wasn't any pain to complain about.  She
didn't want to talk to him.  "I want more."
   Taradon smiled at her.
   She furrowed her brows at him.  What was he so happy about?
   He rolled on top of her and Jewel felt the lightness in her head as his
warm and solid body covered her.  He eased his hand under her night shirt
and drew lazy circles over her stomach.  She followed each caress as it
drifted up toward her breasts or lower.  The entire time his eyes stared
into hers.
   What was he doing?
   She swallowed thickly as his hand grazed lower.
   He didn't need to tell her to part her legs.  She was only too happy to
welcome him.
   "Taradon," she whispered.
   "I'm listening."
   "Are you teasing me?"
   "Yes, Jewel.  I'm teasing you."
   "Please stop."
   His grin was mischievous and she grabbed his wrist.  He laughed, put his
face into the pillow beside her to smother his laughter.  "Relax.  I know
what you want."
   She could hardly relax.  She squirmed as his hands played with her
nipples.  She adored the way he touched her, the way his fingers grazed
over her as much as her hands did over him.  He abandoned her breast and he
slid one finger inside her.
   This was different.  She drew a shuddered breath and clung to him.  She
really liked that.  Her legs parted further as her hips flexed upward.  She
buried her face into his chest, nestled her cheek against his muskiness.
   Taradon nudged her head up and kissed her, deep, his tongue thrusting
into him mouth in tandem with his finger.  When he slipped a second finger
inside, Jewel stilled.  She was panting, but not the fearful stomach
churning pant for air like during her attacks.
   Taradon made a noise like a growl as she climaxed.  He stopped moving
his fingers but kept them inside her.  "You know, you can do this to
yourself."
   "No," she whispered.  "I only like when you do it."
   She couldn't discern his reaction.  Was she supposed to?  Was there
something wrong with that?  What was she thinking?
   "Hey, it's okay, Jewel.  Relax." He kissed her again.  "I want to be
inside you."
   "You are," Jewel moaned.  His fingers had begun moving again, slow and
steady.  It was easy for her to let go of her worries.
   "Not the way I want to be."
   There was that breeze, cool and warm and energized, running through her
whole body faster and faster.  She felt it building and Jewel moaned,
unable to remain quiet.  It happened like only moments before, but so much
different.  She reached for him, held him by the shoulder as her body
clenched around his fingers.
   Taradon placed his cheek next to hers and kissed her on the shoulder. 
He slid his fingers out.
   He wanted to be inside her.  The hand that rested on Taradon's shoulder
slid down and felt for his erection.  It was there, rigid and warm.  Her
mind reeled.  He wanted what she wanted.
   "I want you inside me," Jewel slid her fingers along the length of him.
   "I've wanted this for so long," Taradon said, "but I wanted to feel," he
fell silent as he slid the head of his dick against her.  "like you wanted
this too."
   "I do," Jewel breathed as he pressed his way inside her.  She wanted to
know what it was like, to have him inside her, on top of her, over her.  It
was worth the moment of discomfort.  She would adjust.
   "Wow, you feel perfect," he marveled.
   Yes, he did too.  They moved slowly at first.  Though it seemed to pain
him to make each movement.  He seemed to know when she was comfortable with
him, when he was able to move faster, to push himself deeper inside her.
   Then that rush of energy through her body didn't stay there.  She felt
it move outside of her, as if there were a charge in the air, just like the
time he touched her on the ship.  She felt an energy inside him as well. 
Inside her own body a frantic wisp rushed through her, trying to find an
opening to rush through.  Taradon's heart beat against her chest,
thundering with excitement, burning with lust.
   Jewel lifted her legs to wrap them around his body.
   This was okay.  She could relax.  This was perfect.
   Why would she ever be afraid of doing this with him?  Why all the
whispered warnings from her mind?
   ***
   When the tone for the morning meal sounded, Taradon could barely move.
He felt as if his eyes had just closed.
   They probably had.
   He lay in bed a few more precious seconds, his thoughts going back to
the night before.  He went back to feeling her shudder under him, over him,
hearing her voice as it wrapped itself around his heart and dug its roots.
When he turned to look at her, undisturbed by the bell, he felt a pull
stronger than any moment of lust he'd ever known.
   He wanted to be inside her again.  He liked that feeling of electricity
that passed between them.  He wanted to wake her and hear that melodious
laugh of hers, to see all the worry and fear and anxiety gone from her
eyes, to experience that swell of hope, love, and security in his own
heart.
   Taradon had never loved a woman like he loved Jewel.  It wasn't
desperation or a last hope.  The feeling was too pure and strong.  He loved
her.
   He crawled out the bed and fumbled for his clothing.  Weeks they'd spent
on this farm, and now their stay had come down to this last day.  He
regretted all those nights wasted in frustration, but it was worth hearing
her speak the words, to want him.
   He slid the blankets back to slide Jewel's clothes on.  He doubted her
chastity would be suddenly cast aside after one night together.  He paused
as he brought the evening pants to her thighs.  There was a mark there,
much like a large, angry burn.  He turned her leg slightly so that he could
get a better look.  Had someone hurt her?
   Ice water filled Taradon's spine as he got a better look at the mark. 
He pulled off the trousers and replaced the blanket.  He couldn't bare to
check again.
   "Jewel, get up." He called as he dressed with his back to her.
   She stirred and he saw her grasp the covers out of the corner of his
eye. She dressed under the blanket and then remained just as modest as she
always was as she dressed for the day.
   Maybe it was just a burn, Taradon reasoned, a burn that seemed to graph
itself without swelling, a burn that made a very clear and specific shape.
A burn, that if it were merely a change in skin pigmentation would have
been a nevi, and if that symbol were a nevi...
   Taradon splashed cold water on his face and put an end to his thoughts.
   "Ready?" He asked as he traded places with her.
   She nodded.  There wasn't a smile on her face, just that ever present
look of latent fear and worry she seemed to wear.
   How could she not?  Look at how he was treating her.
   Taradon checked the common room.  The others were waiting, but not in
view of them.  Taradon kissed the back of her neck and hugged her to him.
"Sorry I kept you up."
   She inhaled sharply and the barest flicker of a smile graced her face.
"Me too," she whispered.
   What else was she sorry for?
   ***
   Jewel finally appreciated the repetition of the work.  She was thankful
for the thoughtless monotony as it was the only way she managed their last
day of work.
   What did she do?  What was she thinking?  What happened to her?
   She couldn't understand how she'd thrown so much caution to the wind as
to be naked, completely naked.  She tried to think back through the night.
She'd done something wrong, too different.
   She'd done something to Taradon.  He was distant.  He lied to her.  The
rare times she met his eyes during the day they were confused, dark.
   No matter how much she tried, she couldn't look back on the night with
regret.
   Maybe he did.  She looked nothing like Mai.  Mai had been soft, pretty,
older.  She didn't mind being naked, letting Taradon have her when he
wanted.
   The sun set with cooler air heralding the snow season.  Jewel hugged her
shoulders as she walked back to the cottage, lagging behind the others. 
Taradon stayed with them, talked with them.  He'd been talking with them
about the neighboring cities and farms.
   Jewel's stomach lurched.  She should have just gone to sleep that night.
Everything felt wrong now.
   They said nothing to each other as they dressed for bed.  Jewel expected
questions, at least a kiss.  He lay in bed and said nothing to her.
   She wanted to ask what she'd done wrong, but she was more afraid of
learning the answer.  Her nerves were like barbwire around her muscles,
winding tighter and tighter around them, the barbs causing pains she didn't
know she had.
   "Sleep well," he murmured tiredly as he briefly placed his hand on her
shoulder.
   Jewel slept, but hardly well.
   ***
   Taradon lay awake for hours.  Tired as he was, as little as he'd slept,
he couldn't waste any more time.
   He slid out the bed and gathered his belongings.  Nothing could become
of his life now.  He didn't need to see it again.  He didn't need
confirmation.  He'd spent enough time with Basir to know what he was
looking at.  He didn't need answers.  He'd thrown himself into the work
today and let the solution unfold itself naturally.
   He made her a promise, knowing that he would do anything for her only
made his decision more painful.  He had to protect her.
   He lay the map on the table.  He placed all her things together as well.
She would find somewhere safe, somewhere she would not have to be afraid.
   He sat with his things strapped on and looked at her sleeping face.  The
whirling hole in his heart grew larger.  He blinked the tears away and
exited the cottage.
   -_ Red Falls _-
   There was no morning tone.  It was the last day.
   Jewel woke.  Taradon wasn't there.  She turned over in bed and didn't
see him in the room.  She sat up and frowned at the map.  She got out of
bed and looked at it.
   The map showed a route toward Lisper, the strange city in the south the
others had spoke about.  Where they might harbor ancestrals.  Jewel
remembered the conversation well.  The map trembled in Jewel's hand.
   He knows.
   Jewel raced to the bathroom and regurgitated what little food she'd
managed to eat last night.  When there was no food left, only bile deep in
her belly.
   Go.  Now.  Hurry.
   Jewel washed herself up and grabbed her things.  She could walk it. 
Only a few weeks.  She could do this alone.
   "Hey there, sunflower.  You ready?"
   Jewel turned to Bethany.  She was sitting on the back of the carriage.
   "Taradon paid us to drive you to Panton, but we need to drop Bethany off
at Red Falls along the way."
   Jewel recalled the map.  Panton was close to Lisper, but Red Falls was
out of the way from the direct route, but it would make for a shorter walk
if she stayed with them until Panton.
   Red Falls was a large city though.
   She didn't like the direction, but she didn't have to go into the city.
She could go around it.
   She boarded the carriage.
   He knew.
   She hugged herself as she broke out in a fresh sweat.
   He didn't know.  He would have killed me.
   Then where did he go?  Why did he abandon her?  What did she do wrong?
Was she so disgusting?  He'd promised to be with her.  What changed his
mind?
   ***
   Taradon's burning red eyes lifted to look at the person coming through
the door.  He would have raised his hands to wipe his face clear of tears
if they had not been restrained.
   "You." The statuesque woman, Lady Laura Cross, closed the door behind
her.  "You ...  you should be dead," she finally gasped.
   "I wasn't there that day," Taradon answered.  There was only one time in
his life when he should have died.  "My siblings, however, are truly dead."
   The woman smiled when he thought he would have seen sympathy.  "That's
good to hear.  I'm glad I can finish what I started."
   "Finish?"
   "Yes.  Finish.  What information do you have for me?"
   "I turned myself in to take responsibility for the murder of an
abnormal."
   "The killing of those creatures is not murder, but mercy.  Who was it?"
   "A woman I found outside Nodel.  I discovered what she was, and I know
what kind of danger that kind poses, and what they've done."
   "What they've done?  Do you really know?"
   "Killed my brothers and sisters, for one."
   The woman smiled again.  "Oh, I see.  You think you are somehow
different from them?"
   Taradon shook his head, frowned.  "What do you mean?  I wasn't created
in a lab.  I was born with my nevi.  I have ...  I had a family.  I was
educated."
   "You were born a danger to the Krae.  You and your siblings were
deformities carrying weapons in your very essence.  Weapons have no place
in our world.  Those who manufacture the weapon and those who wield it -
whether by destiny or design - will be put to death.  All of you are the
root of this corruption, and since the Oani themselves have not seen fit to
put an end to it, I will.
   "Those who seek to create abnormals are responsible for the death of
your siblings and just as you are responsible for their creation.  I would
not have known about the rest of you if those so called geneticists hadn't
come for my own child.  I ordered them, and you, destroyed.  The abilities
being cultivated in that building were nothing short of lethal.  There is
no amount of education that can redeem your kind."
   "We were not a danger to anyone."
   "Because of your education?" She laughed.  "The world, other children,
other mothers ...  do you know how much it hurts to know your own child is
being tortured to create monsters?  You were born as deformed as any
primal. You were used to create deformities like yourself, gross
degradations of nature."
   Taradon felt like a knife was being pushed into his gut.  Yes, he'd seen
the many degradations she referred to, and was quick to believe one of them
had gotten loose and destroyed the school where he'd grown up.  They
weren't all that way.  There was one, the only one he'd ever seen.  She was
near perfection.
   Perfectly dangerous.  Perfectly opposed.  Everything Taradon believed
about the dangers of crossing were put in his face.  He recalled the
scarred flesh in his mind.  She was a mirror of his abilities, and that was
nothing short of lethal.
   Like him.
   Taradon said, "If the Oani have not acted, why must you?"
   "The Oani are but guardians, assuring peace and stability throughout the
Krae.  They cannot do everything for us.  They have not acted because I
have.  I will not let this become a problem the Oani must solve." The woman
bowed her head slightly.  "You have done the Krae a great service, and I am
sure the truth of what you are must hurt, but you know you are too
dangerous to be around others.  Are there any more out there?"
   "No."
   "Have you had any children?  Be honest.  I will not kill a child for
being yours.  I will check the mark first."
   "I can't have children."
   "See?  The Oani have clearly spoken on that point.  I've never seen
anything more dangerous than you, and hopefully, I never will."
   Taradon felt his guts twist at the truth of it.  He'd searched the land
with Basir.  He wanted to know if others had been born, others with nevi so
clear and bold as if to convey some secret message, but why would anyone
confess, knowing what this woman was capable of?
   Taradon had been naive, clueless as to the danger.
   Jewel had not.
   His skin prickled as he remembered the look of naked fear in her eyes.
He brought into perspective her many ailments.  Things he only saw because
he spent so much time staring at her, looking after her.  She held within
her body energies that did not belong together, combative powers, powers
that should have torn her apart, body and mind.  Yes, she had been perfect
at hiding.  She was a stronger soul than he had ever seen.  This woman
would never lay a hand on her.
   Jewel would kill to protect herself with the guileless innocence of a
child.
   "I can promise to make your death quick.  You'd be dead already if I
could get permission.  Cultures here." She gave a conciliatory smile.  "The
Premier of Red Falls will come around, though it would help to admit your
danger to the world.  Regardless, I am truly glad you came to me.  I know
now that I have been doing the right thing for the Krae." With that, she
left the room and closed the door behind her.
   Taradon slumped further into himself, recalled the sound of her laughter
that rare, innocent sound.
   He made her a promise and he would keep it.  He would die to protect
her.
   ***
   It was hard for Jewel to remain silent without Taradon there to act as
her interpreter.  She was immediately keen to how much she had depended on
his presence.  She wondered how she would have made it this far without
him, whether she would reach Lisper undiscovered.
   Red Falls was the largest city Jewel had seen yet, and she only had a
grasp of its size by her brief view of it from a top a hill.
   She abandoned her thoughts of staying outside the city.  They were
passing through several outlying towns and before long, in the heart of the
city, all without the oppressive guards or gates that were common in the
north.  Ostar gave her a tour of the city from their carriage, the part of
it they were familiar with, and listed a few places worth checking out
while they restocked.
   "Make sure you wait for us.  Don't go wandering off on your own. 
Wanders do well in groups, and almost none survive alone, especially if
you're new to the south.  Predators and primals are the least of your
worries.  The weather out here can change with little notice, and if you
believe Bethany, spirits of the malevolent kind lurk in the dark."
   Jewel decided against going into an inn.  She did more walking and
exploring on her own - watched the people, listened to the traders and
wanderers, detected their style of speaking, the words and inflections they
preferred.
   She could do this alone.  Observe.  Listen.  Learn.
   Armed with her observations, she purchased new clothing: clean and
bright and better fitted to her widening body.  She styled her hair like
the local women, curls free, hanging down, covering her shoulders, pinned
back by brightly colored hair clips.  She bought a new pack and put all her
gear into it.  In her mind she practiced talking to people, using their
words, their sound.
   "I don't think he looks anything like a primal."
   Jewel slowed in her approach toward the speaking women.
   "I heard she wanted a public execution."
   "That woman thinks she's in Khoolatip."
   "Darren won't allow her to put him to death here.  She'll want to take
him back to her home."
   "Will he let her do that?"
   "It will probably come to a vote." The woman peeled back a green husk
and tossed it into a bucket.  "We aren't that type of city.  I doubt the
vote will be in her favor."
   "I hope they keep him here.  He hasn't done anything wrong."
   "Done more right, hear it told.  I don't even think he should be held
like a criminal."
   Jewel stopped by there side.  The other woman was peeling back the
kernels the older one freed by the husking.
   "A pleasant evening, Ladies," Jewel said.
   "Pleasant evening, Lady," the both of them said.
   She kneeled near the women.  "Who is the person you speak of?" She
extended her hand for one of the husks.  The people here often helped each
other with work while speaking.
   "Lady Cross is calling this young--"
   "--handsome--"
   "--man, Taradon, an abomination, but he wasn't an experiment.  She
admitted to such.  He came into the Krae by birth."
   The younger woman picked up, "She says that people like him are where
they get the information to create abnormals.  I don't buy it.  I heard she
kills children without so much as a tear."
   "She wants to execute him.  The upstanding people of Red Falls will not
allow it."
   "Will they release him?" Jewel asked.
   The women were silent a while and Jewel kept working through the lull in
conversation.
   The older woman shook her head.  "That Cross woman has friends."
   "Friends after that figure of hers."
   The older woman chuckled slightly.  "She looks the type.  I know we will
stall, but someone will come along advising the Premier to let her take the
man from our region."
   "Best really, if she's going to kill him.  I know they are saying it
isn't a crime, but he claims he killed a primal."
   Jewel looked confused.
   The older woman answered, "An ancestral he encountered in the north.  If
they are really so dangerous, why is he punished?  If he killed a primal?"
The woman shrugged.  "Where is the line between being born with a gift and
being given a gift?"
   "The giving," the younger one answered.  "It is not for us to decide the
shape of a unborn."
   "Yet it is our duty to end a life that echoes our ancestors?"
   "There's more to it than we're being told."
   "Always the case."
   Jewel reached for another husk.  Her work in the fields made this task
effortless.  "Do you know where he's being held?"
   "West Gate with the other criminals, I suppose."
   "I didn't see any gates."
   "No, darling, West Gate is the name of the building.  The Gate is where
we keep our criminals." She frowned.  "You're from the country side?  First
time in the city?"
   "Yes, Lady.  I plan to attend school here."
   "Good choice.  Better to start here before you go North anyway.  The
underclasses in the north are so cut throat."
   The women began with their questions then, but Jewel did not linger to
answer them.  She found the building called West Gate where those who
needed a place to contemplate their errors were kept: petty criminals,
drunks, thieves, and the mischievous.
   Jewel didn't approach the building.  She watched.  She spent the rest of
the day and much of the early evening looking at the building.  She finally
left and found a place to lay her head.
   She entered her room for the night and felt a strange feeling in her
chest.  The hollowness twisted and Jewel gasped and collapsed to her knees.
She dropped her bags as her body seized.
   She waited as she usually did and when she thought the seizure would
pass, it continued.  Her vision swam and blurred.  She had lost control of
her body and felt the pain as her head hit a piece of furniture.  This was
worse than it had been in several seasons.  When it finished, Jewel lacked
the strength to lift herself from the floor.  Her body ached and throbbed.
   He would have watched her.  He would have calmed her, kept her from
colliding with the furniture.
   She could make it without him.  She could.
   Jewel cried as the truth weighed on her.  She couldn't meet with the
carriage in the morning.  She couldn't go to Panton or Lisper alone.  The
only thing she was capable of doing without Taradon was killing.
   She wanted to cry louder, to sob like a baby, but she knew better, not
to raise her voice, not to cry, not to scream, but she wanted to, so badly.
Sorrow beat at her chest and roared like a furious beast, begging to be
released.
   She trembled on the floor as she clasped her hands to her chest.
   With a sniffle she stilled.  She took several halting, shuddered
breaths. She assembled her knowledge, her experience.  What she learned
today, what she knew.
   He's mine.  She promised.
   Jewel pushed herself up from the floor and looked out the window of her
room.
   "I will protect and cherish you." She whispered to herself.  "I will
kill anyone who tries to hurt you."
   Lady Laura Cross.
   ***
   Taradon watched the shaft of morning light as it crossed the ceiling,
another day of waiting.  Guards checked on him often.  He was fed, allowed
to clean himself.  His first day, several important people streamed through
his cell, people who wanted to debate with Laura on her desire to execute
him.
   Taradon saw little reason to fight his fate.  She was gone by now, and
safe.  If Lisper was half the sanctuary it was rumored to be, then she
would be all right.  He turned over on the thin bedding.  She would be
safe.
   What if they didn't accept her?
   Taradon buried his face with his arms.  Whatever happened to her, it was
better than being caught.
   ***
   She learned about the people of Red Falls.  She learned about the West
Gate.  She learned that people who were important, related, or doing
research could freely speak with the residents.  Certain visitors were
allowed only during certain hours.  She eased her way toward West Gate and
listened, watched as visitors stated their reasons for entry.
   She took the full day before she did the deed herself.  Ostar and his
people left without her.  She wanted to let them keep the money for her
passage, but they wouldn't hear of it, so they helped her find a small
transport for herself.
   Her few days of reconnaissance paid off.  The same people were not
always around and there were only a few of them.  She stated that she was a
pupil studying the current events of Red Falls.  She wanted to speak with a
person of interest, Taradon, and ask for his opinion on the debate now that
he's had time to think about his situation.
   "Is he violent?" She whispered as they walked along the corridor.  The
holding cells were mostly empty on this side of the building.
   "No, Lady.  He's quite calm." He looked at his watch.
   He would need to check on the opposite hallway now.
   "I will be fine alone," she assured.  "Who do I call for if I have
trouble?"
   "The name is Patrick.  I won't be long.  Wait here." He walked a few
paces ahead.  "Taradon.  You have a visitor.  Good behavior, she's a lady."
   Jewel approached the door as Patrick turned away.  Anger, sadness, and
panic flashed through Taradon's face as he jumped to his feet.  She eyed
the restraints on his hands.
   She walked over and brushed her fingers along his face.  "What have you
done?"
   Taradon leaned into her touch and the anger eased.  "She killed my
brothers and sisters," he confessed as the tears fell.
   "Who?"
   "Laura Cross.  She's executing the natural born."
   "You thought she would let you go?" She frowned.  Why did you say what
you said?"
   "You haven't seen what the ones they get wrong look like, what they do.
I said it to protect you." Taradon stepped back toward the wall.  "Go,
Jewel.  Please, go.  I did this for you.  I need you to be safe.  Get as
far away from this woman as you can."
   "No.  I made a promise.  You don't want to be with me?"
   "I can't.  We can't.  She won't let me go, and I'm not sure how long I
have before they send me with her."
   Her eyes watered.  "Do you hate me for being a monster?"
   Taradon's face filled with sadness.  "I love you, Jewel.  Crossing be
damned.  I just want you to be safe.  As long as she's hunting us, that can
never happen."
   Patrick opened the door.  "Any trouble?"
   Jewel walked over to him and placed her hand on the guard's shoulder. 
"Release him into my care."
   "I can't do that," he said with a shy smile as he took the keys from his
belt and approached Taradon.
   "I'll bring him back.  Just wait here for a minute."
   Patrick's mouth worked but he couldn't seem to form the words he wanted.
   "Hush now, it'll be all right, Patrick." Jewel stepped forward and
pulled Taradon along.
   "Jewel?  What are you doing?  How did you do that?" Taradon rasped each
question as she tugged him from his room.  "When she finds out--" Taradon
turned to stone behind Jewel.  His feet were rooted to the floor of the
corridor.
   A the curvaceous woman with bountiful russet red curls stood in their
path.  A juvenile boy stood just behind her.  "Where are you going with
him, young woman?"
   Jewel stepped forward, but Taradon held her hand firm, wouldn't let her
go.  "I will not let you hurt him." Her voice had turned soft again.
   The woman looked Jewel over.  "Oh my, yes.  A year ago, you may have
been the malnourished waif they described.  You're the survivor," she
beamed.  "Taradon," Cross crooned with a condescending tone.  "Is this the
woman you claimed to have killed?  I wasn't looking for her, just the
abomination she may have seen."
   The boy behind her tugged at her skirt and pointed a shaking finger to
Jewel.
   The color drained from Laura's face.  "No," she whispered.
   A thunderous boom filled the corridor and knocked Laura and Victor Cross
to the floor.  It was as if a bomb had gone off in the room, tossing the
two into the air and onto their asses.
   Jewel pulled Taradon pass Laura.  She shoved him away and kneeled beside
to Laura.  She gripped the woman around the throat.
   "Stay away from me." Laura's face turned as red as her hair and Jewel
squeezed the woman's throat.
   This time it was Taradon who pulled her away.  He pulled her toward the
door and then stopped.
   "If she's going to treat me like a primal," his eyes drooped to half
closed, "then I might as well act like one.  She killed my siblings without
cause.  This is my justice to seek."
   The air moved away from him in a shimmer.  She felt the heat as it rose
in the room and then descended on Laura.
   "Come on," he took Jewel's hand and they were running through the
building.
   How are we going to out run the guards?
   Alarms sounded and all the gates opened.  An automated voice announced
that they needed to evacuate the building.  The ground swayed and rocked
beneath their feet.
   Jewel took the lead once they were out the building.  The entire city
was on its feet.  Confusion spread like wildfire and Jewel was only to
happy to fuel that flame.  She took him to the south edge of the city
toward the small transport packed with her gear.  They left Red Falls
behind.
   The adrenaline faded along with the view of the city.  There didn't
appear to be anyone in pursuit yet.  Both of them stared straight ahead,
saying nothing.  The purr of the mechanical engine and the tires over to
the road were the only sound for an hour.
   "You came back for me." said Taradon.
   She nodded.
   "Why?"
   "I can't cherish and protect you if I'm not with you.  And I need you."
She patted her chest.  "It hurts to breathe without you."
   Taradon reached for her and pulled her to lean on his shoulder.  "We'll
take of each other, together." He chuckled.  "Now everything is true."
   She raised a brow at him.
   "Murderous, vicious, without conscious, dangerous," Taradon rattled off.
   She smiled, but it died when he didn't match her amusement.
   He sported a slow, broadening grin.  "Maybe they'll learn to leave us
alone if we fight back."
   -_ Bheymil _-
   They parked the transport and traded it once they arrived in Lisper. 
The sun was setting upon their arrival so they bought fresh clothing and
checked into the only inn in town.
   "Where are you from?" Taradon ask as he sat on a low cushion.
   Jewel looked to him, her eyes wide.  He didn't ask again; he didn't say
anything more.  What did she have to fear now?  He knew.  He did not hate
her.  He did not want her dead.
   "Nodel is the only place I remember being, but Zola said they were lucky
to have me.  In my early dreams I saw white hills and dark stone, felt cold
on my skin.  I think someone gave me to them.  After that, there was only
darkness between my time in the woods."
   "What did they do to you?"
   Jewel forced the words.  "Put things inside me.  Fed me disgusting
things, meat that caused me pain.  Poked me with sharp objects.  Took
things away from me."
   He opened his arms and waved her over.  "What happened in Nodel?"
   She sat in his lap and leaned on his shoulder.  "They were going to kill
me." She cringed.  "Zola told me never to tell anyone, that anyone who knew
me would kill me."
   "Who is Zola?"
   She made a small, strangled sound.  "She taught me."
   "She lived in Nodel?"
   Jewel slowly shook her head.
   "You never saw her."
   "No."
   Taradon nodded.  "Spirit teacher.  Ancestrals from the north get them.
Zola taught you well.  If you'd told us that when you met us, it would have
been different."
   "Will you kill me now?"
   "No!" He tightened his arms around her.  "Never.  What they did to you
was wrong." He kissed her on the head and sighed.  "Up for a few more
questions?"
   "Yes."
   "Did you kill Mai?"
   "Yes," she whispered.  "She paid someone else to put a child in her."
Jewel balled her hands into tight fists in her lap.
   "So she said," He caressed her fists, traced her slender fingers.  "I
forgive you for it.  All right?  You didn't know the rules."
   "Zola didn't have time to tell me!" Jewel piped up.
   "You've learned them now, yes?" Jewel shook her head and Taradon smiled.
"Then I'll tell you, and we'll do what we can to live by them.  Yes?"
   "You still want to be my mate?"
   "Yes," Taradon quickly answered.  "I will still do everything to protect
you, up to and including kill one of the most well known women in the Krae
and setting a major city on fire.  Understand me?"
   Jewel smiled and leaned on his chest.
   "How are you feeling?" Taradon whispered.
   "Worse soon." Jewel's whole body shuddered.  She didn't know what it
meant that the backlash had taken so long to arrive, but it was coming and
fast.
   "I'll hold you." He kissed the top of her head.  "Just breathe with me
and you'll get through it."
   ***
   He must have held her through the night, because Jewel wasn't conscious
again until sunrise, in his arms, held every bit as tightly as when she
blacked out.  She smiled softly to herself.
   "Look," Taradon pointed to their window.
   She followed his finger and saw the thickly covered blanket of green on
the hill.  "Is that the untouched land?"
   "I think so."
   "Want to check it out?" She grinned.  "I don't think a primal could hurt
us."
   He chuckled.  "You're probably right.  Not like we have anything else to
do.  You think there are primals running around out there?"
   "I think there's something bigger."
   "I've felt it too," he whispered.  He felt it like a burn in his chest
since the sun rose - irrational and pure.  He would make his home there. 
He would find a way.  He'd have a life, a family, a future.  No one could
touch the land because it was meant for them.
   "I like it here."
   "Me too."
   They untangled themselves and cleaned up and dressed for the day. 
Taradon watched Jewel put up her hair.  She'd certainly changed over the
seasons, even managed to put on a bit of weight - which took away her
boniness.  Her breasts had blossomed into a generous handful, and her
backside rounded out.  She no longer cast doubt upon her gender.
   "I have something I need to tell you." Jewel said.
   "What?"
   A small knock on the door turned both their heads.  It was a light,
respectful sound.  Beyond the door they heard a small, young voice
whispering.
   He stepped to the door and opened it.  Two young women, similar in
height and countenance, stood in the doorway.
   One of the girls stepped back, the other spoke up.  "Hi, um..."
   Taradon waved his hand to invite them in.  Whoever the young women were,
they were not a danger to them.
   Jewel seemed to recognize them.  She tilted her head.  "You were
watching us last evening."
   The quieter girl tugged on her sister's arm, but the other did not
budge. She nodded and introduced herself.  "My name is Delilah and this is
my sister Sheila.  We were watching you because we couldn't decide when to
talk to you."
   "Talk to us?" Taradon asked.
   "Why did you come here?" Sheila asked boldly, as if the answer would
settle some bet between them.
   Jewel nodded to Taradon, her expression placid.
   He said.  "It felt like the right place to be."
   "Because of the rumor?" Delilah countered.
   "Yes," Jewel whispered.  "Is it true?" She sat on the bed so as not to
tower over the girls.
   "No." Delilah approached Jewel, gave her a closer inspection.
   "Then where did it come from?" Taradon asked, "and how do you two know
about it?"
   "Delilah thought it would be a good way to attract ancestrals." Sheila
turned to her sister and then looked from Jewel to Taradon, in a similar
inspection.  Sheila nodded slightly.  "The right kind."
   "We need to take them." Delilah said.
   "Take us?"
   "To the hill, to see him."
   "That hill?" Jewel pointed out the window.
   "Yes," Delilah answered.  "You won't have to buy the land because it is
unowned, but we have to bring a gift.  Maybe you have something to show
him?" The girl's tone was hopeful.
   "I think they are the gift," Sheila whispered.  "Aren't they valuable
enough?"
   "No.  It's more than that." Delilah said.
   "Where do you two live?" Taradon asked.
   "The hill," They answered in unison.
   Delilah said, "That's where we were going to live when we bring the
gift."
   "Where are your parents?"
   They shrugged collectively.  "We live up there with our parents."
   Taradon frowned.  "I mean where you live now, not in the future."
   "Linear time is irrelevant," Sheila said.  "Where will be is our only
concern."
   "We live on the hill, so do the both of you." Delilah said.
   Jewel reached for the case in her pouch.  "What about these?" She asked
Delilah.
   The twins' faces lit up in surprise.
   "I told you!" Delilah squealed in delight.  "I so told you!"
   "I had it right too, you know," Sheila said with a slightly more muted
jubilation.  "I said they would both be primals."
   "What?" Taradon tensed though Jewel did not seem threatened or
overwhelmed by the girls' enthusiasm and knowledge.
   "Ancestrals, primals, abnormals, all the same." Sheila explained.
   "I have to know what they are before I use them." Jewel said as she
closed the case.
   Delilah nodded emphatically.  "You received them because of something
you found, yes?"
   "Yes."
   "Yeah, so, you proved that you can sense the essence within the Krae. 
He needs someone like you, someone who can see the land's potential. 
That's why he claimed it.  This is proof." Delilah turned to Sheila.  "That
is the gift."
   "The perfect gift.  The Lisper Premier will fund her."
   "You never spend them," Delilah said.  "Only show them."
   "Then why were they given to me if I'm not suppose to give them away?"
Jewel asked.
   "Well," Sheila rolled her eyes at her sister.  "One day, you might give
them as payment for someone who finds something for you."
   "Are you two ready?" Delilah asked.
   "Yes, we were going to head there anyway." Jewel looked to Taradon.
   "Of course," Delilah beamed, "good thing you'll be with us." The girls
practically bounced to the door.
   "How old are you two?" Taradon asked.
   "We're Paseb Hyfyryk," Delilah answered.  "Sheila and I were born
sixteen years in the past."
   "I know your kind," Jewel marveled.
   Sheila chuckled softly.  "You should," she teased.  "You are our kind."
   "Why do you say that?" Jewel asked as they left the inn.  The streets
were busy with people and there were curious stares as the girl led them
along.
   "You're a bit Asan, but mostly Hyffy.  You'd have to be with all that
Ustufu energy.  It's the only way to win the battle."
   "I've thought the same thing a million times," said Taradon, "but a
Hyfyryk would not allow the capture of one of their children."
   "Of course not.  She was given freely." Sheila looked to Jewel.  "Who
was your mother?"
   Jewel shook her head.
   "Who was your teacher?" Delilah shoved her sister playfully.
   "Zola."
   "Oh?" Delilah stopped skipping.  "Oh!"
   "Do you know her?"
   "Only in song," Sheila answered.  "Zola is a wraith, very strict,
probably a lot like him.  She's a good teacher though."
   "She's scary," Delilah shook her shoulders dramatically.
   "A wraith?" Taradon and Jewel asked together.
   "Those without bodies, beyond this life," Delilah answered.  "It happens
sometimes with the more powerful of the Pasebs.  Hyffys can talk to them
the easiest.  He's a wraith."
   Taradon glanced to Jewel.  He remembered what Laura had said about the
Oani not stopping the altering of other children.  If a wraith helped Jewel
escape, lived on that hill, then maybe the experiments weren't as wrong as
the Krae thought.
   They climbed a trail up the hill, higher and higher along the path until
they reached a field with a large spring at its center.
   A small hut sat off to the left of the spring.  Tendrils of steam rose
from the water.  "The heat stone makes it perfect," Delilah whispered as
she noticed them staring.
   "Do you like this place?"
   Jewel turned to the male voice.  It sounded kind, much older, but she
could not find a body to go with it.
   Taradon looked around as well.  He hadn't heard a voice, but he felt the
presence.  The girls were whispering to him.
   "Yes," Jewel spoke to the man in the same language Zola had used to
speak to her.
   "What will you do with it?"
   Jewel looked out over the land.  "Make the rumor true, start a family.
Why do you want me?"
   "This is my land and I never want to leave it.  I can see the nature of
things just as you can, when you try."
   "I see that you want something else." Jewel said.
   "You carry a child," the voice said, "but that will not be enough.  You
must give birth to your children here, the one you carry and then ones that
will follow, and I will remove the curse in their blood."
   "I can't.  I am not healthy enough.  My illness will smother this life
inside me."
   "I will quell the rebellion in your soul.  A woman who carries the power
of creation can certainly carry a child to birth.  I can make it easier on
you."
   She would give him children, his own children, not cursed, not doomed to
suffer the ailments of its parents.
   "And?" Jewel asked.
   "The presence of ancestrals on my land will strengthen me.  I will grow
strong and the lesser wraiths that have tried to overtake me and my land
will fail.  Your children will become my children as much as yours and
his."
   "Like Delilah and Sheila?"
   "More so.  Will you take them as yours?  They are delightful girls.  I
have taught them much about my land."
   Jewel looked around at the land.  "If I look, and see the nature of
it..."
   "Think of what you will gain, not what you will lose."
   Jewel turned to look back at Taradon.  He was smiling, telling the girls
about their time at sea.  If she stayed here, she would die.  If she
didn't, her children would be primals - in every sense of the word,
horrible, deformed creatures that brought death to others.  Giving life to
such children would destroy Taradon.
   "I accept."
   Jewel felt a charge run through her, straight to her belly and then it
dissipated and spread like warm water.  In her mind she felt the knowledge
given to her like a breeze.
   "That is my first gift.  As you build, as you stay, I will become
stronger and I will be able to grant you more.  You like the name, Jewel?"
   "Yes.  He named me.  I want to keep it."
   "Then you shall have this land, my gifts and knowledge, and my name. 
Jewel and Taradon Bheymil.  Take the girls as your chosen daughters and
grant them my name."
   Jewel knew enough about the Krae that last names were granted to land
owners, after the first lands settled by their family.
   He left them and Jewel returned to Taradon.
   "What did he say?" Taradon asked.
   "This is our land.  We're Bheymils, Delilah and Sheila too.  And," She
looked to Taradon.  "As long as I give birth here, our children will not be
deformed."
   Taradon stared at Jewel blank faced for a long time.  "But, I can't."
   "Yes, you can," Jewel smiled, "with me."
   -_ Censure _-
   "You assured me the woman would be perfect for the job."
   Kemen flinched at the sound of his voice.  He'd anticipated the anger,
but he was more afraid now.
   Victor Cross stood behind him, but it wasn't the voice the young boy
paid attention to.  He was still thinking of his mother's body.  Burned
from head to toe, and that girl.
   Victor had seen them both, saw the light pulsing from her brighter and
more banded than any primal he'd ever seen.  The bright lights were banded
with a deep inky void, swirling violently as if in a tornado.  Chaotic and
distinct.  Bold.  Dangerous.  Lethal.  Impossible.  Beside her the man that
also had more energy in him that any primal he'd ever met.
   The ground shook shortly after, screaming, people running.
   Kemen found him in the wreckage.  He'd given Laura, his chosen mother,
his hand once before.  After the bloodshed, after the tears.
   "Come," she'd said to him.  "I would rather have you as my son than the
one who has betrayed me."
   Would Kemen call him son now?  Victor Cross spent less on that question
and more time thinking about the woman and the man.  Taradon, the prisoner,
the natural primal.
   He was the witness she had been trying to find and the primal who had
escaped the lab.  He saw it too late, the energy swirling around her.  They
were the same and different.  They shared no common energies, but were
equal in power, and that power was greater than any person Victor had ever
gazed upon.
   Even more than this spirit without a body talking to Kemen.
   They had traveled to this cave across several waters.  The lakes here
boiled and the air was thick with sulfur.  The lights and energy here was
everywhere, even in the ground, but there were no primals, no people, just
spirits without bodies.
   More steam, the male voice spoke again.
   "You failed me.  That woman you picked, failed.  You assured me the task
was all but done.  You swore it would be over, but do you know what
happened?" Jets of steam rushed up all around them punctuating his outrage.
   Kemen offered no reply.  His eyes remained on the sweating rock.
   Mother failed?  Yes, those two were dangerous.  They were what she
hunted and they got away.  They burned her.
   "What happened?" Victor asked.  His voice sounded small, fragile, it
cracked as he struggled to be heard.
   Kemen jumped as if startled, but the image, the steam and light, moved
to him, glided around him.  The warmth of the steam made his skin hot.
   "Just as the Pasebs have changed, so have the wraiths and the Oani.  So
much so, that some wraiths keep the powers of the Sidran after passing
through.  One who calls himself Bheymil was such a Sidran in life and now
seeks to increase his power even in death.  Bheymil seeks to use the
primals.  I do not know how, but it will not end well." The image backed
away from Victor and turned to Kemen.  "I am finished with you."
   Kemen shuffled toward one of the pits where steam shot up not too long
before.
   The column of steam moved back toward Victor.  "Bheymil seeks what I
have, what was given to me, what will not be taken away.  My name is Arsai.
And you, little ancestral?"
   "Victor Cross," the boy answered.  His eyes darted to Kemen.  He was
getting too close to the edge.
   "He will die.  He will burn as he let your mother burn," Arsai
explained.
   "The others did it." Victor countered.
   "Others?"
   "With the bright lights.  Tall woman, large man.  Primals." His voice
cracked.  "Primal, but different, bright, extremely bright."
   "You see them?" Arsai's voice sounded hopeful, his mood suddenly
pleasant.
   Victor nodded.  "I see how powerful they are.  They have killed others."
   Arsai stood between Victor and Kemen.  Victor did not hear Kemen, but he
heard the spray of steam and he smelled the burning of flesh.  He knew that
smell well.
   "Victor," Arsai cooed, "they must be killed."
   Victor nodded.  He agreed.  They were terrible.
   "You say they are bright?"
   "Mother said I could see the potential, how powerful an ancestral can
become.  The color and its intensity," he coughed.  "They were the
brightest." Victor spoke though it hurt.
   If he kept making the steam spirit sound happy, maybe he wouldn't burn
next.
   "Perhaps that is what Kemen wanted to say." Arsai made a sound between a
laugh and a hiccup.  "You will need another guardian, some assistance,
little ancestral."
   Arsai seemed to float away and appeared cheered when Victor followed him
as he moved.
   "We must find out what Bheymil knows, what his plans are for the
primals, then we must put an end to them." Arsai moved close, but the heat,
the anger, was gone.  "There is an order to the Krae and we will keep it."
   "Primals should not exist.  They are dangerous weapons.  Weapons have no
place in the Krae.  They must not exist." Victor quoted his mother's
litany.
   Arsai glowed with something like joy.
   -_ Basir _-
   Basir adjusted backpack as he exited the tea house where he'd just
finished an interview.  The elderly man had a nevi on his right forearm:
circular, faint.  Basir filled his notebook with a few additional
observations.  He'd traveled much of the Krae, talked to many people. 
Outside the tea house the air was brisk, the sky covered in clouds.  Late
afternoon in Thufto valley.  He walked along the traders' row.  He'd spent
much of his life with a group of wanderers, but upon the arrival of a
certain enigmatic young lady, all that came to an end.  Basir never felt
right in the company of others again.
   The smell of friend sweet breads drew Basir to a merchant's stall. 
Breads that were not sold in the morning were crumbled and reconstructed as
a sweet evening treat.
   Basir joined the line.  He looked from one person to another, hoping to
catch another interview.  What caught his attention was not a nevi, but a
string of ornaments dangling from a woman's side pouch.  He waited until
they'd both ordered and paid for the sweet bread.
   She sat down near the play-field where many young children were chasing
each other about and squealing with laughter.
   "Excuse me, Lady." Basir bowed to her from a respectable distance.
   She smiled and waved him over.
   "Good day to you.  I am called Basir."
   She patted the ground near her.  "Nan.  Are you a traveler?"
   "Yes." Basir sat opposite her on the grass.
   "You want to know about them?" She pulled the beads forward with a
knowing smile.
   "How did you know?  I don't know what I find so fascinating about them,
but they seem so," Basir did not know the word.  It was like a memory he
didn't have, an experience of something that never was.
   "I have done my share of traveling.  In the city of Lisper, there is a
home on a mountain.  Go there.  Discover why these beads call to you."
   "Do they speak to many people?"
   "Enough, but not too many.  Once a season someone like you will ask."
   "Lisper?" Basir searched his knowledge of the townships of Thutfo.
   "In Alletiern."
   Alletiern.  It had been years since he last saw that region.  Basir had
traveled far away from it, but gradually, his decisions and exploration had
brought him back.  The massive region lay just south of him, but extended
far down the Krae.  "A house on the mountain in Lisper.  I will check this
out."
   The woman and Basir sat in silence, enjoying the sweet bread, watching
the children at play.
   Basir used the time to calculate the cost of returning home.  The sea
travel was pleasant and productive.  The hybrid carrier-transport vessel
shipped goods and people along the coasts of Thutfo, Ishili, Alletiern, and
Arixel.  Several passengers and many crew members kept Basir busy with
their histories and tales of their own specialities.
   Basir caught the rail along the river to the city of Lisper.  Instead of
interviews, Basir listened to reports about the prosperous city of Lisper.
Experts from all over the Krae had been drawn there over the years to
witness the growth of the gorgeous city.
   The trade was excellent for buyers of resources and sellers of talent.
New maps were being drawn that put Lisper in league with the older cities
of Kapi.  As the rail approached, he could see the allure.
   In the warmer climate of South Alletiern the foliage was thick and
vibrant, the river beautiful and vast.  The birds even appeared to sing
louder.  He walked through the city and noted how many buildings were being
upgraded or seemed new.  The city was spread wide, flowers, gardens, and
sculptures kept the woodlands among the architecture.  The best was yet to
come Basir realized as he looked at the house on the distant hill.
   House was an understatement.  It seemed as large at a large metropolis
inn.  Vines clung to the structure, but were sparse.  Basir traveled
Lisper's streets, getting closer to the house.  A road, wide and lined with
benches, gardens, and a generous walkway led toward the structure.
   There were pillars that could support a gate, every few hundred feet
Basir could see another pillar.  Once he was close he noticed the natural
wall, a ravine, meant to discourage crossing, but not harmful to anyone who
tried.
   An iron arch over the pillars spelled out the property in several major
writing forms: Bheymil Estate.  Basir continued up the trail, the hill
became more pronounced.  On either side of the road were pockets of
flowers, some in bloom, others in rest, foot paths wound through them. 
Ahead, the road split around a central trees, its limbs far reaching,
providing a great shade.  Basir was to the terrace steps before he stopped
and shook his head.  What was he doing here?  No matter how large the house
or open the property, he shouldn't trespass without an invitation.
   What if Lisper's Premier was occupied?  Surely this was why the house
was so lavish.  He'd come this far, Basir reasoned as he climbed the steps.
He admired the quality of the stonework, the way they seemed to be
perfectly set.  Basir stepped onto the terrace and saw the fountain first,
its water shooting up from the center and creating the sound of gentle
rain. Then the covered porch with its chairs and tables.  As Basir circled
the fountain he saw the front doors were open, as were many of the windows.
While it was quite a pleasant day out he was eager to see inside.
   "Hello?" Basir called at the threshold.
   A face peaked out from a corridor.
   "Hello!" The woman greeted.  "Please, come in." Then she disappeared.
   Basir entered, listening to the sounds of pottery, dishes, and
conversation.  Smells of an evening meal.  He followed the scent into a
long dining room.
   The woman who granted him entry rushed pass with a serving dish.
   "Follow me," she invited.  She didn't wait for Basir to protest.  He
entered the room where there were people buzzing around a long wooden
table.
   Basir counted about eleven bodies at a glance, but his eyes locked to
the tall woman, a head full of sun-yellow ringlets, seating a young boy
beside another.  She looked to him and nudged the man at the serving table.
   Basir knew him and the golden haired woman beside him immediately.
   "Basir!" Taradon threw his arms around his old friend and held him
close.
   Basir hugged back but could not form his questions.  He thought ... 
he'd heard.  Basir stood along the wall with Taradon.  When everyone was in
the room, Taradon spoke, "Friends, this is a good companion of mine,
Basir." He turned to Basir.  "Have you eaten?"
   "No," Basir managed.
   "Here," Taradon guided him to a chair nearest the cluster of others. 
"I'll get you something to start.  Janice is our principal cook, and makes
delicious art."
   "Ah!  I knew there was something familiar about the archway.  The Pearl
Inn?"
   Jewel smiled and nodded.
   "This estate?  This is your place?"
   "Yes." Taradon set a plate before Basir and sat himself. 
"Introductions. You know Jewel, of course, and these are my sons, Styrax
and Lucian.  With more on the way," he winked to Jewel.  "And our daughters
by choice: Delilah and Sheila.  Janice," he motioned to the woman who had
invited him in.  "Ryota and Ryan, brothers, Niki, Simon, and Marc."
   Jewel continued from there.  "I know you much have several questions,
but eat and drink first, and we can talk later."
   Several indeed.  How had the infertile Taradon suddenly had two sons? 
How had they gone from presumed dead to living in a mansion fit for a
Premier?  Why did they no longer fear for their lives?  How did their two
children, products of the most severe crossing on the Krae seem normal? 
And why, though every thing seemed open to the world, Basir had the sense
of being sheltered, at home, comforted.
   "The food is delicious," Basir complemented.
   "Thank you," Janice said.
   Basir came to learn that he had the wrong idea.  Bheymil estate was not
a house.  It was a community, a heart that was pumping blood into Lisper.
The house had a ground floor, top floor, and partially buried lower level.
The rooms were large enough to room four people comfortably, but were
furnished to house just one.
   After the grand tour, they sat around the pool, a naturally headed
spring supplied by a source in the distant mountain.  Without the threat of
death, Jewel was a completely different, wholly entrancing woman.  Her
brilliance no longer hidden, her confidence worn like a crown.
   "What happened?" Basir asked.  "After that night Kiba?"
   Taradon gave his account.  He was shot while boarding the ship.  They
were taken care of, worked minor labor until they docked again.  They
traveled to Batan farm where they spent a few weeks doing work there.
   "Jewel conceived there," Taradon explained.  "I have to admit I knew the
day I found her that she much have been the primal, but it was easy to
forget, to make excuses.  When I saw her nevi, I ...  I turned myself in
and was held in Red Falls, where Jewel ended up.  We escaped and ended up
here because of the rumors about a sanctuary for ancestrals."
   "It wasn't true," Jewel added.  "Sheila and Delilah started the rumor to
attract someone like us.  So, we made it true.  We took them as our chosen
children and began construction on a true sanctuary."
   "Lucian and Styrax were born before construction was finished, and this
one," Jewel tapped her swollen belly, "should be along any day now."
   "A sanctuary?" Basir asked, mulling the idea over.  "Not a school?"
   "More than either one," Taradon insisted.  "We are a family.  This is a
place to call home, no matter how far you go."
   "Just for the asking?"
   "No," Jewel answered.  "Visitors are welcome, but it takes me a bit of
time before I claim someone as trusted."
   "Who would those people be?"
   "When and if you become one, you will know." Her tone was flat, serious,
no wink or smile to soften the blow.
   Basir accepted her words with a nod.  "Some time ago you said you would
allow me to record your mark."
   "Do you have your book?"
   "Yes," Basir grabbed the book, nearly full save for the spot she'd
marked years ago.
   Jewel propped her leg up, lifted her skirt clear to the inside of her
thigh.  She eased forward so that Basir got a clear look.
   The nevi looked different on many people, different shades, pigments,
sizes, location.  Jewel's looked like an acid burn, a perfectly sculpted
slick of pale skin.  Basir sketched several hundred combinations of
ancestral markings, but he'd never seen one likes hers before.  He couldn't
blame the people who wanted her dead.  He didn't need to interview her. 
Those markings, what he knew about her.  So much came into focus.  Basir
finished the sketch and hid his trembling hand.
   Jewel lowered her leg and the skirt.  "You can see why I hid it?"
   "Indeed.  And your children?"
   "Blessed by the land, cleansed of my flaws."
   "Are they are born with nevi?"
   She smirked.  "Stay a while, and you may be granted the chance to see
them."
   <->
Written: November 2009
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
Destiny_Design_03