Jandain pulled back with a gasping laugh, looking away from her face to stare at her arm, something like awe in his face.

"Land and weather, look upon you, Rebecca Beauvelley," he whispered. "Your kest burns like the sun, and you wear the evidence of your power proudly." He ran his hand down her arm, Becca moaned in pleasure so fierce it was nearly pain.

"Ah, and you like that very much, do you not?" Jandain murmured. He moved his gaze from her arm with an effort Becca felt in her own gut, and looked into her eyes.

"We will share kest," he announced, his voice a weight against Becca's will; "now and completely."

"Yes," she agreed, and lifted her head, mouth questing for his . . .

"Greedy bird. Let us find a more seemly nest." He gathered her against his chest and stood, striding into the house, and down halls she had never explored, until a door opened before him and he strode in, to lay her on the wide, deep bed.

Chapter Twenty-Eight.

It went without saying that the Engenium was in her formal hall at this hour. One might almost think that she had known he had spent the night sleeping in a tree.

And what if she did, Meri thought, sauntering down the hallway. He was Wood Wise and a Ranger-and the Sea Folk expected far stranger behavior from such a one than a mere nap among the branches.

Ahead of him, the living stone floor flashed briefly pink, as if Sea Hold urged him to a brisker pace.

"Ah, if only I had the patience of stone," Meri murmured, and chuckled when the walls went dark.

"Well," he commented, coming to a leisurely halt, and crossing his arms over his chest, "this will certainly speed things along."

Pink light flooded the hallway, and Meri squinted his eye in protest.

"Don't you think it might be best if I simply continued at my own pace? At least then I'll be certain to arrive."

The blare of light faded until the walls were suffused with their usual gentle glow.

"Thank you," Meri said, and moved on at a slightly less lazy pace, amused to see that there was no recurrence of the encouraging flickers in the floor.

It was said that Sea Hold never forgot its Folk, and that the rocks truly mourned those who had returned their kest to the sea, even as they delighted in births, and teased fosterlings newcome to their care. It was . . . profoundly comforting to find that Sea Hold at least had not forgotten him, or the silly game they had devised between them.

He reached the formal hall too quickly. The Sea Wise on the door didn't even ask his business, but merely stepped aside to let him through. Well, Meri told himself, Sian had left orders that he was to come to her immediately. Certainly she would have told the door- Two steps into the hall, he stopped, blood gone to ice and stomach heaving, the room blurring out of sense as he fell to his knees, retching, every scar burning as if the chains still wrapped him. He heard voices and braced himself for some new torture all the while the beauty and power of their auras seduced his will and- "Meri!" Cool hands on his face, quick words spoken over his head, the sound of boot heels on stone, and of the door, closing.

Meri gasped, struggling for breath, but the seductive, unnatural colors were gone, leaving only the cool misty turquoise that was Sian's aura, and the glow from the heart of the stone.

"Meri?"

Slowly, he raised himself, though he would far rather have sunk into the heart of Sea Hold and never be seen again. To have made a display of his weakness, here before Sian and whomev- "Newmen!" he spat the words, straightening to stare into her face.

Sian sat back on her heels, eyebrows raised.

"Am I to take it that you are recovered?"

"Why does the Engenium harbor one of them?" he snapped, ignoring both her question and her station in the sudden boil of anger.

"The Engenium may do whatever she pleases in her own place and among her own folk," she snapped back. "Meripen Vanglelauf."

"Send it away!" He heard the bleeding edge of his own voice, and took a hard breath, and another, as he touched the elitch branch in his belt.

"Your pardon," he managed. "I-"

"You are distraught and ill," she interrupted him. Her words at least were gentle, and if her tone was still snappish, who, Meri thought, could blame her? Certainly not Meripen Vanglelauf, ruined and useless as he had become.

"Tell me, Cousin, what illness is this that afflicts you? It seems to have pa.s.sed now-is that so? Shall I call for a healer?"

"I was with the healers, an' you recall it," he answered, and raised a weary hand. "I know you had no part in drawing me away; I merely say that . . . I think I see why I was still bound to the sleep." He shuddered, and took another breath to center himself. "I sometimes . . . experience the . . . memories of my time . . . beyond . . . the keleigh as if they were in fact happening, here and now. I-apparently suffered such an attack when I entered the room. It seemed to me that I was seeing the aura of one of the New Folk-"

"You were," Sian said crisply, and came to her feet in one fluid move. She held her hand down to him. "I am pleased to see your kest so much restored, Cousin."

Meri did not take her hand. "Tell me," he said. "Sian. Why do you have Newmen at your court? They are dangerous, devious and cruel. I-"

"Do not, I pray you, be absurd," Sian cut him off coldly. "Sam Moore was born on Sea Hold land. He and his owe allegiance to the Engenium. As to why he was here-he came to apply for a.s.sistance with his landhold." She looked down at him haughtily. "Would you like to hear his pet.i.tion?"

"No," Meri said tiredly. He took her hand and was grateful for her a.s.sistance as he climbed to his feet. "But doubtless you believe I should."

"I do," she said, "because it concerns you closely." She turned away and walked over to the sideboard, Meri following more slowly.

"Here." She handed him a gla.s.s half-filled with amber liquid. He sniffed it. Double-wine.

"You do look as if it might do you some good," she said softly, pouring herself a simple gla.s.s of water from the carafe.

Well, and it could hardly hurt. Meri sipped, welcoming the potent burn of the liquid.

"It happens," Sian said, leaning against the sideboard, gla.s.s in one hand, and the other thrust through her belt. "It happens that Sam and his folk are settled in a section of our land on which there are many older trees, some, perhaps, not in the most robust health. The Newmen are clever farmers, and they know plants. They have respected the trees, and the land. For all of their excellencies, however, they have not the tree-wisdom.

"And so Sam has come to ask me to send them a Ranger." She sipped her water. Meri, dread gone to sand in his gut, threw the rest of the double-wine down his throat.

Sian nodded. "Just so. You had expressed to me that you wished to return to your fict.i.tious former existence as a simple Ranger, and-I tell you honestly, Cousin-I have no one else to send. Once you have yourself in hand, you will-"

"No," Meri said firmly. "I will not."

Sian raised her eyebrows, and tipped her head, inviting him to go on.

"I will not place myself in the hands of those-of Newmen. I have scars and wounds enough, Sian."

"Agreed. And yet-you are a Ranger, and the charge has come to you. Will you deny the trees, Meripen Vanglelauf?"

"It is not possible. You have seen-"

"You were taken unaware," she interrupted, "and given no time to shield yourself. It need not happen again. Indeed, I trust that it will not."

He looked into her face, and read resolution there; her misty aura was threaded with gold threads of determination. He wondered, briefly, if she would compel him-and then knew that she would have no need.

He was a Ranger, and the charge had come to him. He could no more deny the trees than refuse to breathe. And yet- "I will need time to . . . prepare," he said slowly. "Truly, Sian. I do not know if it can be done."

She put her gla.s.s on the sideboard with a firm click, and came forward to place her hands on his shoulders. "Meripen Longeye was a strong and canny Ranger. I do not say a philosopher, or an artist, but skilled and practical. Deny him a hero, if it amuses you, but do not deny his strength." She leaned close and kissed him on the cheek.

"Go. Make your arrangements, as I trust you can and will. Come back here tomorrow after you have broken your fast. Sam will be here, waiting."

Jandain's white skin was touched with a rosy glow, as if an hundred wax candles burned at his core; around him pulsed a nimbus of palest lavender. For all of which, his fingers were cool, and clever, and his lips and tongue even more so.

Becca lay in the wide bed, trembling, her limbs heavy, so that she could not even lift her right hand to stroke his hair. Each knowing touch of his cool, clever fingers inflamed her more; she moaned, and cried out, beyond speech, half-mad with sensation, her eyes and senses dazzled, the lavender nimbus deepening, and she reached-reached . . .

"Ah, no . . ." His fingers stopped, and Becca screamed in frustration, though she made no sound.

Jandain bent over to look into her eyes, his hair brushing her face.

"You are a greedy, greedy child," he murmured, breathless and unsteady. "But you will-I insist that you will-obey the proprieties. Why, pretty Rebecca, you are still dressed! We will remedy that."

Still dressed? Rebecca thought, as his fingers slid over her shoulders, upward, toward- "No!" she cried, suddenly terrified. "You may not remove Altimere's gift!"

He paused, and looked at her curiously. "Are you so fond of him, then?" he murmured, his voice so low it seemed she heard her own thoughts. "He collars you and keeps you hidden here, whereas I . . ." He bent even closer, his breath hot on her cheek. "I would take you to Xandurana, and show you all the delights of our land, and protect you. Ah . . . protect you . . ." He licked her cheek; she closed her eyes, shivering, and he kissed her eyelids. "Say you will come with me, Rebecca Beauvelley," he whispered, his hands at her throat . . .

Words rose to her lips. "I forbid you," she whispered, and opened her eyes to stare into his. "I forbid you to remove Altimere's gift."

He laughed.

"Stop me, then, mighty philosopher." His fingers slid 'round her throat, tightening, as he sought the clasp- Jandain cried out, jerking back, hands before him as if he had been bit, or burned. He blinked, and looked down at her, his long fingers curling into fists. The lavender nimbus showed flickers of red.

Fear washed through her, icing her belly and her heart. She struggled against the invisible bonds that bound her to the bed- Jandain laughed again, low in his throat. He reached down to stroke her crippled arm, she shivered-and gasped as his fingers closed painfully.

"I see the game," he whispered, his eyes like sapphire flames. "You like to be helpless, do you? You toy with me, and think me your lesser . . ."

"No," she whispered, her voice shaking. He was going to break her arm!

He smiled. "Perfect," he murmured. "See her eyes, so wide and frightened. Hear her voice tremble." His eyes moved, as if he gazed upon something just beyond her face. "And her kest-see it blaze, and beckon. Seductress." He smiled, Becca thought to scream for Altimere, but her throat closed. She lay there looking up at him, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Jandain's smile widened. "We will share kest, fully," he said. "And you will come with me, Rebecca. You will want nothing else."

The kiss was brutal, horrifying-wrong. Yet the familiar molten gold rose from the base of her spine, and her breath came short now with pa.s.sion. He thrust his member into her mouth and she spent at once, cresting again when he did, and the golden fire coursed her veins and overflowed her.

He brought her up onto her knees and rode her as a stallion rides a mare, his fingers knotted in her hair, pulling her head painfully back; and the room filled with flame. He threw her down and impaled her, again, again-and at last her voice was her own. She screamed, and reached, s.n.a.t.c.hing at the boiling violet, while above them the ceiling went to ash, the stars burned gold against the night.

How wise the Engenium, Meri thought sourly, as he watched the moon rise over the sea. For soothly she had said, he was not a philosopher.

"If all the healers could think to do was put me to sleep until I forgot . . ." he muttered.

That it might, indeed, be possible to create a charm that would shield him from the-from Sam Moore's d.a.m.nable, sickening aura, he had no doubt. There were marvelous things created by the artificers-witness the keleigh itself. Alas, he was not an artificer, nor had he any wish to be one. And if he had once possessed a certain small, clever talent, he doubted he possessed it any longer.

Fire and flood! He wasn't even certain that he could best the-Sam Moore-if the Newman turned violent.

Shaking his head, he stepped off the balcony, back into his room, robe rustling about his ankles as he paced.

His leathers had been cleaned and were draped over the chest, ready for wear. How if he simply left now, faded into the woods . . .

. . . forswore himself . . .

. . . and ignored the fact that there were Newmen in the Vaitura.

They held land under Sian's aye; they had not been unseemly-and yet they were dangerous, savagely beautiful, senselessly violent . . .

He paused, looking down at the table where he had put out his few possessions-knife, elitch wand, sunshield-and sighed. Surely it was a virtue to travel light, but even a Wood Wise might find this kit scant. And while the kitchen would provision him, even, perhaps so far as a carven cup and small pack of dried teas-he wanted a bow. Badly. Also a rope.

More than bow, or rope, or tea, he wanted some a.s.surance that he might bear the company of Sam Moore and however many of his kin-group he was destined to encounter without succ.u.mbing to a fit, wherein he was entirely vulnerable . . .

He frowned suddenly. The elitch branch had not yet lost its leaves; indeed, they were as new green as they had been when stick had first dropped into his hand.

And they were waving-though there was no breeze.

Meri picked the branch up and closed his eye. The scent of elitch tree was strong, and he heard the voice of the elder tree whispering between his ears. You need not walk alone, Ranger.

"Help me," he whispered. "Please."

She woke, crushed beneath heavy limbs, tangled painfully in the twisted sheets. Though there was no candle burning, nor fog light in the room, but Becca could see quite clearly by the golden light spilling from her hands-indeed, from her entire body. She did not spend much time in wonder of this, however, but wriggled carefully out from beneath Jandain, pausing for an anxious moment until she was certain that he slept on. Satisfied, she slid out of the tall, wide bed, and padded across the room, casting golden shadows before her.

She went purposefully, but slowly; she was bruised, stretched and sticky, which made walking difficult.

But, after all, she had not so very far to walk.

Only out to the terrace, where he waited for her, overlooking the silver-washed garden. He turned, opening his arms, and she walked into them, her brilliance dulling the garden's glory.

"Yes . . ." Altimere murmured, and bent his head somewhat. She stretched high, her torn mouth questing for his. He kissed her, long and thoroughly, and it hurt, but she could not pull away. When he finally set her upon her feet, there was only the garden for illumination. She staggered, giddy and chill, and he put his arm around her waist to steady her.

"So, zinchessa, did you enjoy yourself?"

She shook her head. "I was afraid," she whispered, her voice strained and rough. "He hurt me." She blinked up at him through sudden tears. "He . . . seduced me . . . and he says-he says he will take me away with him."

"Really? Would you like to go with him? It might be diverting."

"No!"

"Then you shall not," he murmured, stroking her knotted hair back from her face, and touching her brow lightly. Immediately, she felt soothed and at peace, her tears drying before they fell.

"And as for our honored guest seducing you-I beg you to understand that you have seduced him-and to good effect, as well!" His arm tightened about her in an affectionate squeeze. "I am pleased, my child. Very pleased."

"I-seduced him?" Becca shook her head. "Sir, he-it was so strange! I felt his will move me, he forced me to speak words that I had no wish to say, and, and-do things that-"

"Nay, nay, you were never so entirely in his power! You sat safe in the hollow of my hand, speaking and acting as was necessary to fulfill our goal." Another slight hug. "I say again that you are a marvel and a wonder, darling child."