Viola Grace - - Return of the Nine 03 - Hiding (6 page)

“Thank you, Mayor Tetra. I have been lucky as well. My parents gave me what few children ever have, a chance to find out what I was. I know what I am now, and it is a relief to find a man who accepts it.”

Apolan’s hand ran over her back, and the emerald silk was no barrier to the heat of his skin.

The mayor gave her a look, “You don’t mind that he is an alien?”

Daphne drew a deep breath that brought many masculine gazes to the cleavage exposed by the dress. “The Nine evolved here. They are of Underhill, just as we are of Gaia. This soil shaped us all. They have merely come home after a long trip.”

Slow applause began just at the edge of those who could hear her voice. It was the Wilding representative that began it, and it spread in a wave through the party.

The mayor faded away as she was introduced to members of the Nine who were interested in seeking out Gaian mates. They had been drawn to the warship not knowing where the battle with the Tokkel would take them, and now, they were in orbit around their ancient home.

If fate had brought them this far, they were not going to disappoint her.

Apolan held her close as they danced. Each step brought them closer to the exterior, and in a rush, he grabbed her hand, and they rushed out into the night.

She laughed as they rushed into the newly completed gardens. “We are missing our own party.”

“They will go on without us. I need to show you this.”

The privacy-garden attendant let them pass.

He lifted her in his arms, and she shrieked and kicked at the lack of balance.

He swept through the gardens until they faced a huge tree with great, sweeping branches.

“Apolan, it’s beautiful. Who is it?” she knew just looking at it that it was not simply a tree. “For that matter, how did it get here?”

He laughed and carried her to the tree and set her down, inches from its trunk. “When the Forest folk wed, we do it for life. It does not matter when we pass into the next world, we will go together.”

She clung to his hand, sensing that he was doing more than dropping a passing reference to mortality.

“When we die, if we are lucky enough to be blessed by children, they will take our bodies and bury them beneath a tree, and ten years from the date of our burial, they will take seeds from that tree and spread them through the family.

“When those children find mates, they will choose a home and select a young tree, planting it near their home. The seed that they hold will be buried in the roots of the tree and it will begin to grow. This tree is the seed of my great grandparents.

“The ancestor’s tree will offer council, guidance and shelter to any nearby. You can come here and speak with them whenever you wish.”

She reached out and touched the bark of the tree, swaying as the wave of love came over her. “The rest of your relatives are alive, aren’t they?”

He smiled and pressed his hands over hers, “They are. We burn for a very, very long time. The Nine were not the only off shoots given to the universe by Underhill, but we are the longest lived.”

Daphne pressed her forehead against the tree before leaning back against her husband. “A love like that can grow from a seed?”

“No, but a seed can carry it. I have carried the seed of my ancestors my entire life, holding it when I was unsure about what I was feeling and waiting until I knew that I had found love. To know what it is supposed to feel like is a great boon to my kind, but it helped me know what I felt the moment that you ploughed into me in the forest that night.”

“I felt rather flat after the impact, but there was a connection. My heart kicked in a few days later, and my soul was yours by the time we finished our picnic.” She smiled up at him under the shade of his great grandparents’ tree.

He stroked her hair back from her face and pressed soft kisses across her cheeks.

She asked softly, “How did the tree grow so fast?”

Apolan held her gently but firmly, and he grinned, his teeth white in the darkness, “You know as well as I do that love takes no time to grow. It just needs to have the opportunity to find the light.”

Her laughter was stifled as his kisses found her lips and under the cover of the ancestor tree. They enjoyed a moment of simply being together before the stresses of being representatives of their worlds took over.

He was the ambassador and she was done hiding.

About the Author

Viola Grace was born in Manitoba, Canada where she still resides today. She really likes it there. She has no pets and can barely keep sea monkeys alive for a reasonable amount of time. Her line of day job tends to be analytical which leaves her mind hopping to weave stories. No co-worker is safe from her character analysis. In keeping with busy hands are happy hands, her hobbies have included cross-stitch, needlepoint, quilting, costuming, cake decorating, baking, cooking, metal work, beading, sculpting, painting, doll making, henna tattoos, chain mail, and a few others that have been forgotten. It is quite often that these hobbies make their way into her tales.

Viola’s fetishes include boots and corsetry, and her greatest weakness is her uncontrollable blush. Her writing actively pursues the Happily Ever After that so rarely occurs in nature. It is an admirable thing and something that we should all strive for. To find one that we truly like, as well as love.

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