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After a two-day trek from Ezra’s, Bryar had barely rounded the furthest building of the Motherhouse complex when Romarin spotted him, broke away from her class, and ran across the green. He didn’t mind the stab in his ribs; her strong arms wrapped around him provided the best succor imaginable.
Her cheeks were wet.
“Hey. I’m okay.” He brushed her cheek with a finger. “Don’t, Mari. I’m fine.”
It was the truth. He wouldn’t dare be less than healthy after Willow and Rebecca’s fussing.
“But the Aura.” She pulled away, re-establishing her fourteen-year-old dignity. “It’s awful, Dad. I’ve never felt so empty.”
“Because your powers are maturing. It’s bound to affect you more.”
The tears evaporated with her grin. “Your little girl’s growing up, huh?” The cocky smile gave way to a frown. “You’re a mess.”
“You might say that.” Two days’ journey, his face every color of the rainbow, his nose still puffy and swollen. With an arm across her shoulders he piloted them in the direction of the Bards’ lodge.
“Arwen’s going to interrogate you.”
“I just hope she doesn’t flay me. Your mom and Quinn should be here soon. They’re communing with a wildflower.”
“For all the good it’ll do. Damn dead times.”
His daughter was picking up adult vocabulary, as well as adult attitudes. “Nothing we can do. Remember, this is what it’s always like for most people. Only they never experience what we do, so they don’t mind.”
Mari’s thumped his chest lightly with a fist. He mentally thanked Rebecca for the salve that had mostly healed the burn. “You’d better get cleaned up. Arwen’s a bear these days.”
“Love you.” At the gate to the lodge, Bryar kissed her cheek, taking care not to disturb the bruising around his nose and eye. “If you see Arwen, tell her I’ll meet with her after lunch, okay?”
~~
THE FIRST PERSON KIRIL saw as he entered the Motherhouse complex the next morning was Joss. That surprised him; he’d assumed his sergeant would have moved on by now, found some farmer’s field where he could commune with cows.
Unfair.
True. But Joss’s unwillingness to cooperate, much less accede to his plans, still grated.
Over the course of his winter ramblings, Kiril had developed a reasonable mental map of the Midland, reflecting with every step that he’d kill for paper and a decent pen. Holding everything you knew in your head was a challenge after a life of computerized records.
From all he’d gathered, the further west you went, the lighter the population. Which would be perfect for his – for Terra’s – needs. He’d also made an abortive attempt to cross the hills to the east, but even without ever finding a fork in the trail and navigating by the sun, he kept ending up where he’d started. He remembered the bolt of pain shooting up his leg, after he and Joss were brought to the Motherhouse for the first time. Willow had assured him it had been nothing more than a pinched nerve, but it forced him to wonder if these people’s skills extended to turning the hills into a maze.
The cell troubled him. When he’d checked, just a few days ago, it was gone, and whoever took it made no effort to hide the theft. He’d encountered a Healer on the road to Stanstead and learned that once again it was wreaking havoc with Auric energy.
Kiril expected the Motherhouse to be in a stew. He hadn’t expected to find Joss in the middle of it.
The morning was crisp and clear, with the scent of grass and something floral in the air. A few people, mainly workers from the village, stood talking or carried bundles to and from the stone buildings. Joss strode across the green to meet him. “I’m holding off from punching you out,” he said with deceptive mildness. “But the temptation’s there.”
Kiril leaned against the wall of the Centra and surveyed Joss up and down. Despite the harsh words, he appeared relaxed, as if he were in his home barracks.
Deceptive. Joss ran deeper than he’d ever given him credit for, back on the space pod.
“Nice to see you, too. Whatever’s going on, don’t blame me. I secured the damn thing.”
“Not enough. Could be nothing’s secure enough. Let’s get a caff.” Joss turned and walked away.
In the dining hall, which was nearly deserted at midmorning, Joss challenged him. “So who’s got it?” He poured the hot brown liquid into two tiny mugs and shoved one over to Kiril’s side of the table. The other he raised to his mouth, draining the liquid in one gulp.
“Damned if I know. I told you, I took precautions. Besides its value to us, I didn’t want to screw up your precious Aura.”
“Ezra and Arwen pegged it to within about a football field. The thing leaks energy into the ground, different from whatever radiation’s messing up the Aura. The earth clan Weavers noticed it, back when they tried that crazy circle. Willow’s okay, by the way.”
“Glad to hear it.” He meant it. She had saved his life; he figured there was a debt owing.
“They got back yesterday, so you’ll probably run into her while you’re here. Anyway, it seems Bryar found it first. But whoever has it now doesn’t give a damn about the Aura or keeping it shielded.”
“What are you doing at the Motherhouse?”
Joss poured a second helping of caff. The miniscule mug looked ridiculous in his big hands, but he handled the caff equipment as if he’d been born to it. “It’s the animal thing. Everyone agreed I’d be better off with training, and they’re right. Another few months and I’ll be really useful. Easier on me, too, learning how to turn it off. Then the Aura disappeared. You aren’t going to be popular around here, sir.”
Joss had used his honorific. Good.
“They can believe what they want. I don’t have the cell.”
The door crashed open.
“I get that,” Joss said, deadpan. “But you’re about to meet the hounds of hell.”
The statuesque, dark-skinned woman from the inquisition loomed over their table. Kiril looked up at her and smiled.
She wound up and slapped him.
“What the-?”
Joss had the nerve to chuckle. “Welcome back, Quinn. He isn’t responsible for the latest disaster.”
“And you believe him.” Controlled rage colored her voice. But for Joss’s presence, Kiril suspected she’d willingly eviscerate him.
“Yes. Events aren’t consistent with his usual modus operandi.”
Typical of Joss to reduce everything to patterns. Kiril’s hand had crept toward his stinging cheek; he lowered it back to the table. There’d be a bruise, maybe a black eye; Quinn packed a punch. But he had perfected an air of casual nonchalance over the winter. That, plus a charming smile, had kept him fed and sheltered as he wandered the eastern Midland. Survival skills. Not hunting and foraging, but survival nonetheless. “Caff?” he asked her, allowing the corners of his mouth to quirk up as if she hadn’t just tried to knock his head halfway across the dining hall.
Quinn was gorgeous. He’d never met a woman to rival her, especially when worked up the way she was now.
Joss’s big hand touched her arm. “Sit down. I’ll get you a mug.”
“Making him a part of the solution?” she sneered.
“Better than having him work against us.” Joss left the table. By the time he returned, bearing another mug, a fresh caff pot, and containers of milk and honey, Quinn had pulled a third chair over and sat, her tense body radiating hostility.
Interesting that Joss knew Quinn well enough to cater to her caff preferences. An undefinable twinge crossed his chest at the obvious closeness between them; he ignored it.
“We work together,” Joss said, anticipating his thoughts. “Quinn’s helped me a lot with constructing templates in my head, sorting out what I can use and what I can’t.”
The three of them silently sipped the bitter drink.
Finally, she set her mug on the table with a thump and locked her glare on Kiril. “Do you expect to be of any value around here?”
The desire to goad her, flatten some of her pompous posturing, was irresistible. “Haven’t a clue.” He leaned back, casting a casual arm over the back of the chair. “I don’t know who’s got the thing or where it is,” he added. “Get over it.”
“What are you doing here, anyway? This isn’t exactly a travel hub.”
She apparently wasn’t prepared to give up her fury. Kiril shrugged. “I was in Stanstead. Nothing more sinister than that.”
“Are you staying long?” Joss asked.
“Until we’re willing to let him go,” Quinn answered, overriding him. “You’ve been a thorn in our sides since you got here. We don’t need you out there trying to find the cell and hiding it again.”
“Suit yourself.”
Her mouth twitched, settling into a scowl. “I’ll alert Arwen that you’ve turned up. Get yourself a place in the guest lodge. Too bad the Motherhouse doesn’t have a lockup.”
“Your faith in me is overwhelming.”
“Lowlife.” She shoved the chair back and stormed away.
Joss waited until the door slammed before he laughed. “Gotta love that gal,” he said.
“Yeah, I bet she’s a fabulous teacher.” Kiril had enjoyed their confrontation and chose to turn his goading on Joss. “You bedding her?”
Joss didn’t blink. “Nope. Just learning from her. Let’s get you settled. You’ll want time to clean up before Arwen gets her claws into you.”
A bath and the prospect of a comfortable bed sounded wonderful after nights on the trail. He waited while Joss delivered the caff supplies to the hatch at the back of the dining hall, then accompanied his ex-sergeant to the guest lodge.