Dara Joy - Matrix 04 (5 page)

"Have you someone in mind, Yaniff?" Ernak patted his
stomach as it growled.

Yaniff smiled crookedly; Ernak's mind was more involved with pondering what choices he would be having for his meal than the subject at hand.

Bojo stretched his wings, refolding them neatly. That done, the winged companion started to snore.
Loudly.

Yaniff shook his shoulder to wake Bojo up.
Am I the only one ever concerned with the fate of the universe?

Bojo opened one eye.

It drifted shut again.

Yaniff snorted to himself. And boldly continued.

With all the aplomb of a seventh-level wizard who is very much concerned with the fate of the universe, he put forward an option. "As it happens, I do have someone in mind."

"Who would have guessed?" Gelfan muttered- but loudly enough for everyone to hear.

"What say you, Gelfan?" Yaniff purposely cupped his ear. "I did not quite hear you." Oh, he was being very bad. And, yes, he was enjoying it.

His rise in mood emanated to his winged-companion, who awoke and gave Gelfan a sharp-toothed grin.

It irritated Gelfan immensely.

For some reason companions generally took great delight in irking other wizards. Their expressions said:
See what you do not have? Me. Why? Because I chose a better wizard.
Companions were notoriously
wizardproud.

Yaniff equitably concluded that there had to be some reason for enduring these sessions. If not irritating Gelfan, then what?

Gelfan was not happy with either of them; he glared at Yaniff for calling him out. So he yelled down the table. In
wizard-boom.

"I BOW TO YOUR GREAT AGE AND SHALL BE SURE TO SPEAK UP FOR YOU, YANIFF. WHO IS THIS SUPREMELY HALLOWED CHARL; ONE WHO CAN KEEP SUCH A FAMILIAR IN LINE?"

Several of the mystics cupped their ears, wincing, their mugs of
mir
clattering across the wooden table with the vibration of his voice.

Yaniff was unfazed. He retook his seat. "Ah! I believe these disintegrating, worthless ears can hear footsteps approaching at this very moment."

The doors to the chamber suddenly crashed open with a deafening
bang!
Boot heels clicked an angry staccato across the stone floor.

"What mean
you, Yaniff
, to summon me here like some Charl supplicant to do your bidding!" Traed ta'al Krue confronted the room, glowering at the entire House of Sages.

Since the scowl was accompanied by an irritated toss of waist-length dark hair; as well as the sparking, flashing eyes of a high level mystical-warrior in his prime. . . it was rather effective.

Several Sages actually sat back in their seats.

Yaniff chuckled.
The lad cannot help the drama that follows him.
"He calls it upon himself, does he not, Bojo?"

The winged-companion squawked back in reply.

Yaniff's eyes, darker than the darkest night, glowed with mischief. "Ah, but how can I not?" He ruffled Bojo's feathers.

If Traed's unruly entrance was not enough to unsettle the venerable House of Sages, the snarling, angry, mountain of a Familiar that followed in the Aviaran's wake certainly proved sufficient.

The man continued to roar as he came into the room.

His litany of complaints were much louder now that the thick wooden doors were not between him and the Sages. Ernak and Zysyz groaned and slid down into their chairs.

Others on the chamber held the same sentiment.

"Not him!"

"Do not let that bothersome Familiar in here!"

"By Aiyah! Close the door quickly!
We
have been hearing his tirade all day!"

Clearly the Familiar was not a popular "guest'.

The wizards' pleas were roundly ignored by the tall, dark Aviaran glowering before them. Traed's focus, however, was purely on Yaniff.

The one who had called him.

The one who always managed to embroil him in one scheme after another!

It was a mystery to Traed how this was done as he was not even a Charl supplicant.

"I see you have received my message, Traed."

If fury had a name, it would have been Traed ta'al Krue. The normally stoical Aviaran flashed warning signals with every part of his body.

Palms flat on the council table, he bent towards Yaniff. "I have oft told you," he gritted out in a deadly soft voice, "I will not be treated as a Charl supplicant. I am not here to do your bidding."

Yaniff could not have been more pleased. With his own words, Traed had just bound himself to the task at hand.

Although he did not know it.

Yet.

To a wizard, the Sages gaped at Traed, utterly aghast. Such insolence! To a high-level mystic? The lad needed
some discipline!

To these Sages, Traed was an unknown commodity. They were uncomfortable with his lack of proper training; they questioned his dark heritage. Some feared his unschooled power.

If they were opposed to Yaniff before, they would side with him now. Traed's lack of respect had always been disquieting. Such an insult could never go unremarked.

Yaniff's knowing expression gave Traed pause. He had seen that expression before
- right after the door to the snare shut tight.

Instantly he realized his mistake.

His green eyes narrowed ominously. "It will not work," he murmured to Yaniff.

"It already has."

"Cease all this Charl blather and tell me what is to be done about my sister!!"
The huge, snarling, extremely handsome Familiar roared to the group at large. His eyes were an unusual combination
- lavender and aqua. If one were to look close, one might ask how such soothing colors came to one who roared so fiercely.

Yaniff tried not to laugh. Yet, the events unfolding before him were extremely humorous.

"What does he rave about?" Traed nodded over his shoulder.

"There is a Familiar girl on the planet Spoltam. She left M'yan without permission, going against Gian's orders. This is her brother, Brygar. You will accompany him to Spoltam and see to the matter."

Traed's eyes narrowed to slits. "Oh, will I?"

"Yes, you will."

Traed cocked one eyebrow.

Yaniff grinned. "Taj Gian thanks you in advance for all of the Familiar people on M'yan, which is, if you recall, by royal decree, your
second
home. And there is the matter of the House of
Lodarres
- or should I say the honor of the House of Lodarres, Traed
ta'al Krue."

Traed's nostrils flared.

But he remained silent.

"Finally, some action!" Brygar threw up his hands. "Would that I were not bleeding to death out there as I waited, for I surely would be missing three of my incarnations!"

Treads leveled a cool look of dismissal at the disruptive Familiar, but his aggressive stance had changed slightly. He exhaled a disgusted gust of air.

The entire situation was clear to him.

Yes, he was caught.

"You are a crafty old-"

With a feigned, pained expression, Yaniff shook his finger back and forth. "Ah-ah-ah."

Traed was unmoved. "You brought Gian into this knowing I am honor-bound not to refuse him!"

"Not so. Gian was already involved. He made you a member of his extended family when you saved both his life and the life of his
tajan,
Jenise. In addition, you are now a
recognized
son of Krue, a great Charl warrior."

"Occurrences which I suspect you also had much to do with, Yaniff."

"You cannot refuse this request."

Brygar was through with waiting. "Are we to leave, Charl, or stand here exchanging pleasantries all eve? Let us be off at once!"

Traed's jaw pulsed. He did not even look at the annoying
Familiar.

He did glare at Yaniff though.

And the glare said it all.

Traed would never be able to abide Brygar, let alone take a journey with him. The Aviaran was a solitary man, quiet and watchful in his way. Ever remote.

Brygar would surely drive him mad.

Yaniff chuckled, further infuriating the younger man. Traed's hand drifted over to the light saber at his waist.

Yaniff's eyes twinkled merrily. He made a wager with himself as to how long it would be before the two of them were at each other's throats. To help them along, his next words were a simple spice to steam the "throttle-stew."

"Your level head will keep him out of trouble, Traed."

And where had Traed heard that before?
Ah, yes, just before Yaniff sent him off to Ree-Gen-Cee Eng-Land after Rejar.
That
escapade had resulted in him exposing his powers to the Guild!

Traed glared at Yaniff.

Gelfan, bored with the entire situation- and also hungry for his evening meal- decided to put an end to it. "Traed ta'al Krue, the Guild decrees that you will go to Spoltam and bring back this Familiar girl to M'yan.'

Traed met Yaniff's eyes. That was not exactly what Yaniff had said.

"Thus you see why I always choose you, Traed," Yaniff murmured approvingly. "You have yet to disappoint me."

"Mayhap I should work harder at it."

"Somehow, each time, I think you do," Yaniff wisely rejoined.

Traed looked at him, caught speechless and yet. . . not without words.

"Enough! I am leaving with or without you, Charl!" Brygar was already storming out of the High Guild.

"You will owe me much for this one, Yaniff," Traed gritted out.

Yaniff nodded. "Go after him now, before he causes a galaxian war."

"I do not think one Familiar can do such a thing."

"No?" Yaniff's lips twitched. "Then you know not your Familiars."

Traed exhaled noisily, then turned to follow the brash Familiar.

Yaniff grinned wickedly. "All in all, a good turn, eh, Bojo? Already they are like the best of companions."

Bojo nipped Yaniff's earlobe.

Sharply.

A wizard's laughter is a beautiful thing to behold.

If you should ever hear it—

Either laugh with him or run quickly for cover.

FIVE

By the time Tread caught up with Brygar, he was already at the Hall of Tunnels.

And he was in his cat form.

There was no mistaking that great stomping animal with his shock of black hair and his lavender and aqua eyes-

The cat was even snarling to himself as he raced along!

Worse, the foolhardy Familiar was about to storm through the
wrong
Tunnel.

Traed shouted a warning. "No!"

Too late.

Without stopping, Brygar barreled forward and sprang through the portal.

Traed winced.

Of all worlds to pick- why did the fool have to pick that one? Brygar had stormed headlong onto Mollock, affectionately referred to by all as 'the mud hub'.

By Aiyah, what a dolt!

He had no choice now but to go after him.

Traed gritted his teeth and plunged
through the
gateway. He detested mud!

Almost as much as he detested quests.

He tumbled onto the plane of Mollock, sliding hip-deep into an endless sea of sucking mud. He took the opportunity to curse the House of Sages in twenty-two languages.

If Traed had known that the Sages had neglected to inform him that Brygar was notorious on M'yan for being a Familiar who lacked
any
sense of direction. . . he would have cursed them in forty-two languages.

Especially since the affliction never seemed to stop the stubborn feline.

Indeed, the obstinate Familiar simply ignored all those who told him he could not find his way back to his own toes on a perfectly clear day.

Who had ever heard of a Familiar with no internal sense of direction?

Certainly not Brygar.

SIX

Yaniff made his way back to his cottage in the forest.

It had been an eventful day.

Halfway home, he paused on the wooded path to peer at the upper branches of a nanyat tree.

Lying across one of the limbs, basking in the shade of the thick, dark fronds, was his student, Rejar ta'al Krue.

His
tenth
level student. Half-Aviaran and half-Familiar, he was unique in every way. No other child had ever been born of Familiar and Charl, save him. Some said his conception was miraculous. His father, Krue, however, maintained that it was just good love play.

Of course, depending on the amount of mischief his younger son caused, Krue had also claimed that Rejar was love play gone astray.

Whatever the cause of his existence, it was widely acknowledged that Rejar had a way of burrowing into people's hearts.

The scamp was well-loved by many.

A light breeze billowed the full sleeves of the pale blue shirt Rejar wore. The loose garment laced at the wrist and neck. His black
tracas
fit snugly over his lean hips and waist; the black breeches were tied and laced up the front.

The lad spends too much time undoing all of those laces; his raiment mirrors his outer nature exactly,
Yaniff rued. Sleek, sinuous and utterly sensual. He was the outcome of a mixed bloodline; and yet, it was the Familiar traits that were most apparent. The cat in him was strong.

Even black leather boots seemed sleeker on him than on other men.

Ah, but he is so much more. . .

Rejar was stretched out on his side, head propped up by the palm of his hand. One long leg was casually bent at the knee. His boot heel tapped a slow staccato on the wooden branch.

He gazed languidly down at Yaniff with an inscrutable expression.

"Taking a nap, are we?" Yaniff leaned against his staff as he stared up at his student.

"It is such a beautiful day, how could I resist?" Rejar's blue and gold eyes held sparks of mischief.

"Mmmm."

Rejar chuckled at Yaniff's flat reply. "You have sent Traed on another journey."

It was not a question.

Yaniff took a moment to study his student. His Familiar blood allowed him to shield his thoughts. At times, Rejar could even withhold his thoughts from Yaniff. The ability- a powerful asset
- could quickly become a liability. Yaniff was most careful with Rejar's unfolding.

"And how do you know this?"

Rejar grinned. "I happened to be in the Hall of Tunnels when I observed him chasing down a huge black cat- that looked strangely like the Familiar Brygar. I could only think of one reason
our
Traed would do such a thing. . ." He wagged his finger at the wizard.
"You
are up to your tricks, Yaniff."

Sharp as ever, he is.

"Hmph! And what were you doing in the Hall of Tunnels? I distinctly remember leaving you with a rather large tome of
Curious Tinctures
that you were to study."

Rejar coughed. "And it was very scintillating, I assure you; however, there was a most beautiful piece of Krilli cloth that I had seen at the sacri yesterday and I thought Lilac would look most beguiling in such a material, so I-"

Yaniff banged his staff. "You are mated and still you squander yourself! I do not know how it is possible!"

Rejar threw back his head and laughed. "Unlike you, old man, I have not forgotten the pleasures of the day." Rejar winked at his master. "And there can be endless pleasures in a day, Yaniff."

Yaniff just shook his head and rolled his eyes. Rejar had always been a trial to him. There was something about the lad that made him want to throttle him yet clap him on the back at the same time.

"I should send you to the Sky Lands to dwell among the barren, stormy cliffs for a season. I vow you will learn much about the joys of the day there, Rejar."

He did not respond as most students would have. He laughed. "Your threat is empty."

"Why do you say this?"