Laura Jo Phillips (43 page)

She walked just behind and to the left of Summer, guarding her back as they made their way across the valley to the cluster of buildings in the center.  She was always a little surprised to see how quickly the wide expanse of lush blue grass had been transformed from prime cattle pasture into a small military base on the Dracons’ ranch. 

“Are you nervous?” Summer asked as they reached the graveled lane that ran between the two rows of buildings.

“A little,” Darleen replied.  “I don’t understand why he wants me to make my request personally.”

“He’s heard that you’ve changed,” Summer said.  “Maybe he wants to see for himself.”

Darleen shrugged.  “I can’t be what I’m not,” she said.  After a moment she shook her head.  “That’s not true, actually.  I
can
be what I’m not.  I’ve had years of practice doing it and frankly, I was damn good at it.  A truer statement would be
I will not be what I’m not
, and I am no longer the woman he once knew.”

Summer stopped and turned to look at her friend.  “Darleen, there is something I am curious about.”

“I will tell you anything you wish to know,” Darleen replied.

“What is it that you want to be, now?” Summer asked.  Darleen’s eyes blinked in surprise.  Then she smiled one of her rare, honest smiles.

“I should have known that such a question would come from you,” she said.

It was Summer’s turn to be surprised.  “What did you think I was going to ask?”

“Nothing that I should have expected from you, that’s for sure,” Darleen replied.  “To answer your question, what I want to be now is a warrior.  I want to protect those who cannot protect themselves.  I want to help those who need help.”  Darleen glanced down at her feet and shrugged with embarrassment.  “I suppose that, in short, I want to be like you.”

“Me?” Summer asked with a laugh.  “That’s very flattering, Darleen, and I thank you for it, but I think you are already a warrior, and always have been.”

Darleen’s head jerked up, her wide blue eyes meeting Summer’s dark, chocolate ones.  “I’m not sure why you say that,” she said slowly.  “I was not remotely warrior-like before.  Saige is teaching me
tiketa
, and Doc has been teaching me how to use a knife, and I’ve gotten fairly good with this hand laser, but these are all new skills.”

“I’m not talking about skills,”  Summer said patiently.  “I think that much of what you did in your former life was an expression of your deep need to fight, and win, no matter the cost.  Those are traits that every true warrior needs.”

Darleen frowned thoughtfully.  “I have to think on that one,” she said.  “A lot.”

Summer smiled and began walking again.  She had spent a lot of time trying to reconcile the Darleen that she knew with the stories of Darleen from before her time as Lio’s prisoner.  She just didn’t believe that it was possible for a person’s basic personality to change
that
much.  Traits can be changed, of course.  Someone with anger issues can learn to control their anger.  A person who is shy can learn to overcome their shyness.  But from all Summer had heard, either Darleen had become a completely different person, or she had found more constructive, positive and meaningful methods of expressing certain aspects of her personality. 

The latter had the ring of truth to Summer.  If she was right, then perhaps it would do Darleen good to understand that about herself.  In the end, it didn’t really matter whether other people forgave Darleen for her past actions, or not. What mattered was whether or not Darleen could forgive herself.

Summer led the way to the hybrid ranch/base med-center where the interview with Mara was to take place, and pushed the door open.  She smiled at Saige and the Lobos, and crossed the room to greet Maxim, Loni and Ran.  A few moments later Prince Garen and Lariah arrived, followed by Prince Trey and Prince Val.  Once all of the greetings were finished, Prince Garen turned to Darleen. 

“Miss Flowers,” he said in a polite, but cool voice.

Darleen bowed.  “High Prince,” she replied.  Summer noted with pride in her friend that there was nothing in Darleen’s expression or manner that revealed her nervousness.

“I understand that you wish to be present during the interview with Ms. Winicke.”

“That is partially correct,” Darleen replied.  “I wish to be present, but I would also ask that I be allowed a few moments with her alone, before Princess Lariah, Arima Saige and Arima Summer join us.”

“Why do you make this request?” Prince Garen asked.

“I wish to insure the safety of the other women,” Darleen replied, “and also set the proper tone for the interview before it begins.”

Prince Garen stared into Darleen’s eyes for a long moment.  Then, much to the surprise of everyone present, he nodded once.

“Your request is granted, Miss Flowers,” he said.  “I believe that one of the exam rooms has been set up for this meeting, and that Ms. Winicke is already present.”

“Yes, High Prince, that is so,” Faron said.  He turned and led the way down a narrow hall with many doors.  He stopped at one, opened it, and gestured the group inside.  There were several chairs set around the room and everyone sat down. 

“We’ll wait in here,” Faron said, “The meeting will take place in the next room.  We have a vid set up, of course, though Mara Winicke is not aware of it.”

Faron turned to Darleen.  “If you will follow me, Darleen?”

Darleen stood and followed Faron out of the room, up the hall a few feet and into another, identical room.  This room had a table with four chairs set around it, one of which contained the frizzy haired form of Mara Winicke.

Mara sat in the bare cold room that was usually used as a medical exam room.  The exam table had been replaced by a rectangular wood table and four metal chairs.  The rest of the room had been stripped.  Mara knew that because she had checked every drawer and cabinet the moment the guard closed and locked the door behind her. 

Mara had been told only that the Princess, and two other Arimas, wished to talk with her.  Then she’d been brought to this room where she’d been sitting alone for about an hour.  It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that they wanted something from her, and it had taken even less time to figure out what.  They wanted information, of course. 

If those women thought for a moment that she was cowed, or that she would roll over and tell them anything they wanted to know just because she’d been locked up for a couple of months, they would soon learn better.  This was the closest thing to excitement she had felt in a long time, and she planned to enjoy herself immensely with these air-headed little twits.

Mara was looking forward to the coming interview, and in fact, could barely wait for it to start.  Finally, she had the upper hand again.  If they wanted information, they were going to have to play her game, by her rules.  All she had to do was figure out what demands to make.  Freedom was at the top of the list, of course, but she doubted these women had anything close to enough power to make that happen.  But there were plenty of other things she wanted. 

Like a better place to sleep.  One of those guest cabins would do.  And food.  She had a long list of foods she wanted.  She was sick of the slop they’d been feeding her.  Yes, there were a lot of things to ask for, and she would demand them all.

The door knob rattled as the lock was released, then the door opened and Faron Lobo stepped into the room.  He didn’t even glance in her direction, which was irritating.  Mara’s irritation vanished when she saw the woman who followed him in.  Whoever she was, she caused the breath to freeze in Mara’s throat. 

The woman was a bit on the thin side, and of average height.  She was dressed all in black, but there was nothing special about her clothes.  Scuffed black leather boots, slim black pants, and a sleeveless black top.  She wore a black leather belt with several objects hanging from it, and black leather gloves that had the fingers cut off. 

She had very short, light blonde hair, no more than half an inch long which, much to Mara’s annoyance, looked exceptionally good on her.  Her skin was very pale, and covered with fine white scars on her face, neck and arms. 

There was nothing remotely formidable about her physically, but for some reason Mara felt a frisson of fear race up her spine.  She tried to shake it off, but when she looked into the woman’s cool blue eyes she sensed that this was the most dangerous woman she had ever met in her life.

“I will bring another chair in a moment,” Faron said quietly.

The woman shook her head, a tiny movement that was just enough to express her meaning, no more and no less.  Faron left the room, closing and locking the door behind himself.

The moment Faron was gone, Mara felt the other woman’s full attention focus on her, and it was not a comfortable feeling.  Fear was not an emotion that Mara liked, so she immediately struck out.

 “Who the hell are you?” she demanded abruptly.  “I was told that I was to speak with the Arimas, not some servant.  This is crap.  I’m not saying a word to you.”

The other woman did not respond by so much as a flicker of an eyelash.  She simply stood there, staring at Mara with intensely blue eyes. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Mara asked, fighting to keep the fear out of her voice.  “Too stupid to talk?  You can’t possibly be as stupid as you look.”

The woman moved so quickly that Mara barely saw it.  One second she was standing there with her hands at her sides, the next second one hand was raised slightly in her direction, and a black handled knife was quivering between her fingers on the table in front of her, the tip buried a good inch into the wood. 

“What’s the matter with you?” Mara yelled, jerking her hand off the table and away from the blade.  “Are you crazy or something?”

Darleen slipped another knife from her belt and tossed it casually into the air, catching it between two fingers without taking her eyes off of Mara.  Mara folded her arms across her chest and tucked her chin down, feeling exposed and threatened.  The woman continued to stare at her, waiting.

“Fine, I apologize,” Mara said grudgingly. 

The other woman considered her for a moment before returning the knife to a sheath in her belt.  Mara relaxed a tiny bit.  There was still a knife sticking out of the table a foot in front of her, but no matter how fast the other woman was, surely Mara was fast enough to grab that knife long before the other woman could.

“I’m Citizen Jasani,” Mara said belligerently.  “You can’t touch me, not legally, not without breaking Clan Jasani laws.”

The other woman smiled, but there was no humor in the expression.  Mara shivered.  “You aren’t Clan Jasani, are you?” she asked, already knowing the answer. 

The woman’s smile widened fractionally. 

“So what is it that you want?” Mara asked. 

The woman tilted her head slightly and continued to stare.  Mara was becoming quite unnerved by those damn blue eyes.  Who was this woman, anyway?  Why wouldn’t she talk?  Could she talk?

Mara thought about that last question for a moment, then sighed. 

“Fine, I won’t be rude when they come in,” she said.  “That’s what you want, right?  Me to mind my manners?  Be polite?”

The other woman smiled again, this time baring her teeth a little.  Mara recognized a  threat when she saw one.  “I’ll be polite.”

The woman stared at her for a moment longer, then walked toward Mara, her steps smooth and silent, as though she were gliding across the floor instead of walking.  The closer she got to Mara, the harder Mara pressed herself back into her chair.  The woman reached for the knife still sticking out of the table, pulling it out of the wood with a flick of her wrist.  She returned it to its sheath in her belt along with several others, then walked behind Mara. 

Mara held her breath as she waited for whatever was coming.  She was sure the woman meant to use one of those knives on her.  After a few long seconds she turned her head slowly to look over her shoulder.  The woman stood a couple of feet behind her, her arms at her sides like before, her eyes trained on Mara. 

Mara turned back around until she was facing forward again.  Apparently the woman wasn’t satisfied with Mara’s agreement.  She was going to remain there to make sure that Mara watched her tongue.

A few moments later the door opened again, and three women entered the room.  The first to enter was a tall, slender woman with long black hair carrying a long sword in an enameled sheath at her hip. 

Mara blinked, hardly able to grasp that the woman was really and truly carrying a sword.  Then she smiled inwardly.  Did these women really think it would be that simple?  That all they had to do was dress up with a scary looking sword and she would be so frightened that she would tell them whatever they wanted to know?  Well, they were about to learn different.  Mara Winicke did not scare quite that easily.

The second woman was shorter than the first, with dark brown hair and pale green eyes.  The way she moved communicated a sense of danger to Mara that she tried, and failed, to shrug off.  The sword might be a joke, but this woman was one to be cautious of.

The third woman was very petite with emerald green eyes and long, flowing red-gold hair.  She wore a thin gold circlet with a blue star sapphire on her forehead, marking her as Princess Lariah Dracon, though Mara did not need that to know who the woman was.