B00CH3ARG0 EBOK (25 page)

Marianne strolled along a meandering path in the gardens,
the Sural beside her. No, she thought, she wasn’t strolling. She was waddling
like a proverbial duck. At least her pregnancy would be over soon.
Maybe ten
days left.
Or so said Cena.

“Your daughter,” the Sural announced, “is probing me.”

She halted and looked down at her swollen belly. “That’s
rude. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to probe a high one?”

He eyed her, one brow furled and the other halfway up his
forehead. “Perhaps you—”

“I know, I know. Sleep deprivation distorts my sense of
humor.” She sighed and reached into herself, along her parental bond, and
reined in her baby’s innocent but intrusive empathic exploration. “I’m grateful
she sleeps as much as she does. I wish she’d do more of it at night.”

“Soon, beloved.”

“Easily said.” She resumed her stroll, penguin-like. “You
don’t have her sitting like a
bowling ball
in your center of gravity or
try to sleep while she attempts to kick your kidneys into next year.”

He made a sound suspiciously like he was coughing to cover a
laugh. She peered up at him, narrowing her eyes. He was good at masking
amusement from her, but—

“I might point out,” he said, in an obvious attempt to
interrupt her thought and distract her, “your preferred sleeping position
ensures that your daughter also kicks me.”

She grumbled. “Good!”

His arm draped around her shoulders. “Be at peace, my heart.
I feel your discomfort.”

* * *

It was time – past time – to journey to warm waters. The
seas were already cooling as the sun weakened and the days grew shorter, but at
least food was still plentiful. [
serenity dives deep
] used the ridges on
her head to scrape plants from their rocky underwater moorings and sucked them
into her mouth. [
bold searches
] grazed beside her, giving an occasional
soft caress of a flipper to let her know of his affection.

As she crunched her food plants, the big male indicated he
was discontented.
Desire to leave
.
Urgency
.
Anticipation of
cold. Need for warm seas.

Need
. She pictured to him the beacon of grief she had
sensed among the tiny land creatures.
Need
.

Frustration. Fear for [new life yet to breathe].

She rolled and rubbed her back against his side, soothing
her mate.
Care. Safety.

[
bold searches
] rumbled an acquiescence and headed
for the surface, intending to breach for air. [
serenity dives deep
] swallowed
her mouthful of plants and rose with him, blowing bubbles to caress him as he ascended.

* * *

Afternoon sunlight in Parania was warm and golden and
perfect for drawing. Laura sat cross-legged on a low wall with a small sketchbook
and a charcoal stylus, hastily outlining a flower. The play of light and shadow
on the tiny blossom wouldn’t last long. She’d remember it in any case – her
memory worked like that – but it was always better to have the model in front
of her.

A shadow fell over it. “Gah! You’re in my light! You’re—”
She peered up. It was the Paran, a broad smile on his face. “Oh. Shouldn’t you
be closeted with your guest from Brialar, scheming and planning and plotting his
overthrow or something?”

He chuckled and took a seat on the wall beside her. “The
heir to Brialar is a cunning negotiator, in truth, but even the most avid
diplomat requires time to rest.” He planted a kiss on her temple. “I have
interrupted your art. Forgive me.”

“That’s all right,” she said, closing the book and setting
it aside with the stylus. With a grimace, she uncrossed her legs to stretch the
aches out of them.
God
it would be nice to be young again.

“You are thinking about the Jorann’s blessing.”

A sigh escaped her before she could stop it. It was
unnerving how the Paran responded to things she hadn’t said, and he did it much
more than the Sural or Marianne ever had. And after the — almost three months? —
she had lived in his stronghold, he wasn’t often wrong.

“It’s time,” she said. “I’ve certainly been thinking about
it long enough.”

He took her hands in his. “It would give me joy to know we
had a lifespan to be together.”

“Me too,” she whispered, smiling. “I know I waited a long
time to make the decision, but I needed to be sure I was adding 300
happy
years to my life. Three hundred years of loneliness wasn’t very appealing.”

His mouth twitched. “Your dread of eating the same food for
ninety Earth years seems to have been a significant consideration as well.”

She sputtered a laugh. “There is that. I don’t know how
Marianne did it for eight years. After two months in Suralia and three months
here, I’m ready to pitch it all into the sea.”

He laughed. “Is the Marann well?”

“Don’t you know? I thought you would be monitoring my calls.
The Sural certainly does.”

“The Sural lives because he trusts no one,” the Paran said
in a dry voice. “Will you return to Suralia soon, then?”

“Cena told Marianne the baby will come in the next ten days.
I said I’d need to talk to you. How about if I leave tomorrow?”

He nodded. “I will make arrangements for a servant to
accompany you and guide your transport pod.”

* * *

[
serenity dives deep
] rested just outside the wide
bay along which a large population of the land creatures clustered. The one
that was a flare of sorrow went about its incomprehensible activity, unaware of
her. Carefully, she touched it with a probe.

Desire for tranquility in the deeps.

She sensed the little creature go still. After a few slow
heartbeats, it continued on its way, the need she had planted sinking deep into
its heart. Satisfied, she turned away and set about to wait.

* * *

Since Parania and Suralia were on opposite sides of the
planet, Laura left Parania in late morning, traveled for something more than a
quarter of a day, and arrived in Suralia ... in time for the morning meal. She
wasn’t sure if it was yesterday, tomorrow, or three hours ago. Thinking about
it made her head ache.

“I don’t miss this,” she said, picking at a grain roll.

Marianne laughed and tried, unsuccessfully, to eat without
dropping crumbs on her robe. She flicked them off a belly that stuck out like a
shelf. “I thought you liked spicy food.”

“I do, but it’s been about three months since I left and the
bread in Parania only has a little bit of a bite. I’m not used to this five-alarm
fire stuff anymore.”

Marianne’s laugh turned to a cackle. Kyza, sitting across
the table in her customary place at her father’s right hand, giggled. Beside
her, Thela had her brows drawn together.

“What is ‘five-alarm fire stuff’?” the young musician asked.

“It’s a— Thela! You understand me?”

“I am learning English. Father said I will need it when the
humans come back.”

“That could be. You speak so well for studying so short a
time! We should talk again later, when you’re done with your studies and your
practicing.”

Thela grinned. “I will like that.”

Laura cocked an eyebrow at Marianne – a gesture she’d learned
from the Paran – and chased a bite of roll with a healthy gulp of tea. “As I
was saying, Parania has more foods I can eat than Suralia does.”

“Lucky!” Marianne shot a discontented look at the Sural, who
affected not to notice. “How many?”

“An even two dozen. Some grains, some fruit, like here, but
also some vegetables, which is nice. The cooks came up with a couple of soups
using only the ones I can eat. They’re good.”

“Lucky.”

“You’re in a mood,” Laura remarked, turning to peer at her
friend.

“I’m always in a mood. Baby tap dances on my ribs all night
and bounces on my bladder all day. I can’t get any rest.”

Laura chuckled. “How well I remember. I know you don’t want
to hear this, but ... it’ll be over soon. And then the real sleep deprivation
starts.”

“Ha! You’re a great help.”

“You are very content,” the Sural broke in, giving Laura a
smile. “The Paran treats you well.”

Laura’s face heated. “He’s been wonderful.”

“What then are you hiding?” he asked, cocking his head.

Laura sputtered a laugh. “You Tolari!” she exclaimed. “All
right, all right. I was just going to wait to tell you until I’d settled in,
that’s all.”

“Wait to tell us what?” asked Marianne.

She took a breath. “I want to take the Jorann’s blessing.”

A huge grin burst onto Marianne’s face. “It’s about time!
What made you finally decide to go ahead with it?”

Laura lowered her voice. “With the Paran I – well, 300 years
doesn’t seem like an eternity anymore, if I can be with him.”

“That’s wonderful, Laura. I’m so happy for you! But why did
you come here for it? You could have taken the blessing there, in Parania.”

Laura glanced at the Sural. “The Paran said his own apothecary
could have given it to me, but he thought it would be best if your apothecary
did, since she has so much more experience of humans.”

“Reasonable,” he said.

“So if I could do that whenever it’s convenient for her
while I’m here?”

Marianne leaned back in her chair. “I think as soon as
possible would be best, even today, if Cena has the time. Then she’ll have the rest
of the visit to monitor you before you go back to Parania.”

The Sural nodded. “I agree.” He rose to help Marianne push
her chair back from the table and stand.

“I’m going to see her for my morning examination anyway.
Let’s see if she’s busy.”

“Well,” Laura said, feeling a little tentative, “if you’re
sure it’s not too sudden?”

“Come on. She’ll be happy to see you even if she is too
busy.”

A nervous smile played on her lips. Why not? “All right.”

* * *

 “She looks like a young woman again,” said Marianne, easing
herself into a chair in the apothecary’s quarters late that evening.

Laura lay unconscious on a bed in one of the treatment rooms.
Cena, midway through her own pregnancy, hovered over her with her scanner. “By
our standards, she has never been more than a young woman,” she said. She turned
her scanner on Marianne. Her eyebrows lifted as she read the results. “Your
body is preparing for birth, high one. The process will very likely begin in
the night, or tomorrow in the morning at the latest. It may even be beginning
now.”

“Good.” Marianne let her voice reflect her fatigue. She
glanced at Laura. “The timing is a little inconvenient, but maybe after it’s
over I’ll be able to get some sleep. My daughter kicked the Sural right off my
sleeping mat last night.”

Cena stifled a snort of amusement.

“He said I should name her Sfyra,” she continued. “It means
‘she who kicks’ in Old Tolari. But I’m still thinking about naming her Rose,
after my mother.”

“I have not yet given much thought to a name for my son.”

“He’s beginning to look like Storaas, at least on the fetal
scans you’ve shown me.”

Cena looked away, busying herself by taking out her medical
scanner and running it over Laura’s prone body. “I thought I could revive his
interest in life,” she said in a low voice, “but he has seen too much and lived
too long. I spend all the time I can with him – I do not know how much he has
left.”

“Maybe he should talk to the Jorann. She’s thousands of
years old, and she hasn’t gotten tired of living yet.”

“There is merit to that idea—”

A sound interrupted her: Laura beginning to stir and open
her eyes.

Cena was instantly attentive. “Are you in discomfort?” she asked,
giving Laura the penetrating look Marianne knew indicated that she was probing.

Laura glanced at Cena. “No. Well, maybe ...” she whispered. “You
have such grief. Oh, Cena. I’m so sorry.”

Cena’s eyes widened, and then narrowed. “Laura,” she said, her
voice heavy with disapproval. “You must never reveal others in this manner.”

Laura put her hands over her forehead and squeezed her eyes
shut. There was a long pause. “It’s too much,” she said, breathing hard. “It’s
too much.”

“What’s the matter with her?” Marianne asked in a low voice.
“It wasn’t like that for me. Is it because she was sensitive for a human?”

“Possible,” Cena murmured. “It is like a delirium, but there
is a quality to her presence now that—” She turned to Marianne. “Are you not
reminded of the Jorann?” She signaled a servant. “Request the Sural.”

Laura opened her eyes again, only to have her attention
caught by her own arms. She brought her hands down from her forehead, looked at
them, and turned them over. Then she felt her face with her fingers. “Do you
have a mirror?” she asked. She held the small glass Cena gave her above her
face. “I haven’t looked like this in thirty-five years!”

The door opened, and the Sural entered the room. Laura
gasped, the mirror dropping from her hand to the bed and sliding off to shatter
on the floor.

“Apothecary?” he asked.

Laura’s voice was a whisper. “He’s so proud of you.”

The Sural stopped, his eyebrows flying up.

“Laura, you must stop this.” Cena ordered.

“I see why you requested me,” the Sural said dryly.

Marianne remained silent, watching, while her bond-partner
clasped his hands behind his back and went to Laura’s bedside.

“You’re an open book,” Laura said.

He raised an eyebrow.

She threw her arms over her forehead. “It’s too much!”

The Sural’s empathic presence faded from Marianne’s awareness
as he shut his barriers; she could sense him only through their bond.

“Thank you,” Laura breathed, lowering her arms. She looked
into his face. “You should tell Marianne.”