They were almost to Jayems' and Rihlia's suite when Keilor abruptly froze, dragging Jasmine to a halt with him. He motioned for silence and hit a red button on the small black box all the guards carried. He moved in front of her, drew his gun and fired an arc of blue light all in one seamless motion. The Haunt at Jayems' door crumpled before they knew what hit them.

"Draw your gun, Jasmine," he ordered her, and she did as he said, her heart thumping. "Stay behind me in the doorway if there's firing, wait until the others get here, and don't get in my way." He spared one grim glance at the fallen soldiers, and then he shifted.

An icy finger of fear slid down her spine at Keilor's seamless transition from husband to warrior beast. Even witnessing Isfael, Raziel and Mathin transform had not prepared her for this final proof of what he was and of the kind of child she carried.

There was no time to dwell on it. Keilor positioned her a little to the side and burst through the heavy doors as if they were balsa wood, firing rapidly.

Taken completely by surprise, the Haunt assassin dropped Rihlia before delivering the death strike he'd been poised to deliver, the remnants of his head splattering Rihlia's face with gore. His partner went down with a hole the size of a man's fist where his heart used to be.

Rihlia was badly hurt. She lay where she had fallen, curled into a fetal ball as a bright red stain spread on her skirt.

"No!" Jasmine moaned, running to her, trailing Haunt guardsmen in her wake. While Keilor and the others searched for more assassins, Jasmine dropped to her knees beside her friend, wiping gore from her eyes with a shaky hand. Her symbiont stirred, touched Rihlia's face, but didn't leave Jasmine.

Wild hope sprung up in Jasmine even as the blood spread on Rihlia's skirt. "Heal her," she told the symbiont. "Fix her like you did me." Sluggish movement and a vague sense of apathy were the only responses. The symbiont was sated, and more than content right were it was. It had no interest in a Haunt, anyway.

"Heal her!" Jasmine hissed, frightened by Rihlia's growing pallor and lack of response. The symbiont stirred again, responding to her desperation. Almost with repugnance, it extended, gingerly touched Rihlia and retreated with a symbiont shudder. "It's not going to kill you. Just do it!" Jasmine snarled at it. Something like a put upon sigh brushed through her emotions, a primal communication of squeamishness. The symbiont extended, leaving a loop of liquid metal securely wrapped around its host's wrist as it touched the dreaded Haunt.

Through the sudden echo of nausea in her gut, Jasmine felt the symbiont slowly and with great difficulty stop the hemorrhaging in Rihlia's womb, saving the tiny child clinging to life within. The entire process took only seconds.

Satisfied it had complied with the spirit of its host's directive, it withdrew, retracting slowly back around Jasmine's wrist. There it slumped, turning a sickly shade of green.

Jasmine hadn't reckoned on the slow dump of noxious, almost indigestible Haunt material that oozed into her bloodstream from the nearly helpless symbiont. Vertigo assailed her, and her eyes glazed over as she slumped over Rihlia's legs, shivering as her temperature dropped. Cold sweat broke out on her clammy skin, and the blood slowly drained out of her head.

That was how Keilor and the medics found them. Jasmine breathing shallowly, and Rihlia an unmoving ball of quiet misery.

At first Keilor didn't understand what had happened to his wife. He thought she'd fainted, or was suffering from some kind of shock. It was Mathin who figured it out.

Mathin had come running along with the rest of the Haunt on duty when the alarm had sounded, and he hissed at his first glimpse of Jasmine, limp in her husband's arms. "Look at the symbiont," he said, pointing to the sagging strands of greenish metal. "She tried to heal Rihlia. She poisoned them both."

"How do you know?" Keilor demanded, even though he believed Mathin. Thundering rains, all he had to do was look at the symbiont for proof, now that he knew.

Mathin avoided his eyes. "I've spent a great deal of time in the swamps, picked up some useful information." He focused on Jasmine's chalky face, looking worried. "What she needs is another symbiont to help bleed off the poison."

"Do I look as if I have one?" Keilor snarled, taking his rage and distress out on the nearest target. He cradled his wife to his chest and strode out of the room, heading for the infirmary. "The People Who Came Before won't be here for nearly two weeks, and unless you can fly-" He shut up. Mathin didn't deserve this.

Unfortunately, he couldn't take his temper out on his shivering wife. Not only was it worse than useless to yell at a semi-conscious woman, she hadn't known the consequences of her reckless gamble. Not that it would have mattered, he acknowledged with a stab of dread. She'd do anything for a friend.

Today, she might die for one.

Keilor sat in the chair next to his wife's bed with his hands steepled against his chin, his eyes closed. They burned from staring at the slow rise and fall of Jasmine's chest.

There wasn't anything the Haunt medics could do. The symbiont flowed like water through the fingers and instruments that tried to remove it from Jasmine's arms, and Jasmine thrashed in delirious panic whenever it had been attempted. Finally Keilor had ordered them to stop trying.

Rihlia was not much better. Although Jasmine had managed to save her baby, possibly at the risk of her own, she had been badly beaten, and even the natural resilience and speedy healing of her Haunt body could only do so much against loosened teeth, cracked bones and bleeding organs. Jayems stood grim vigil over her this night, no doubt wracked with guilt and self-loathing Keilor knew too well.

Tonight he wasn't feeling guilty, though; only sad, and a little proud of his Dragonfly's selflessness. He did not have to ask her to know she wouldn't have counted the cost too high had she known what her attempt at healing would demand.

Swallowing hard, he dropped his head onto his clasped hands and shut his eyes, trying not to think of what tomorrow might bring.

The Symbiont delegation arrived in style.

The morning after the assassination attempt, just after dawn, a silver ship with fifteen passengers glided into Haunt waters and docked. As soon as its passengers had disembarked, the ship broke apart, coalescing into fifteen silver hover cycles. Before the astonished eyes of the Haunt escort, the cycles sent silver tendrils around their rider's legs to the knee, anchoring them in place.

Jayems, who had been alerted only a bare hour before of the change in plans, grabbed Keilor. He informed him what was up as they hurried to the field between the arms of the citadel. They were waiting there as the Symbiont riders arrived.

There was only one woman in the group, and the men were without exception of warrior stock. All the males wore their hair cropped short, and even the woman's blond hair was only long enough to touch her shoulders. They wore black pants of heavy cloth, boots and jackets of suede suitable for traveling at high velocities. Each rider wore a sheathed knife and a black gun and watched the Haunt with a wary expectancy. The leader, a man of only slightly above average height but tremendous presence, inclined his head to Jayems and Keilor.

"My name is Jackson." He slid a glance at Mathin, who remained mounted on his snorting stag. "We were informed that you have a medical emergency we might be able to assist with?"

Jayems glanced aside at Keilor, leaving the decision up to him. The center of attention, Keilor eyed the new arrivals, their leader in particular, his nostrils flared to take in their scent. He snorted silently in self-disgust. As if that would help him any. He could read nothing in Jackson but fearlessness.

"She rests in the clinic," he told Jackson reluctantly. "My wife tried to heal our cousin with the symbiont, but it poisoned her."

Jackson dismounted in one easy motion. "We can help her, but we'll have to use one of the big symbionts. It might be easier if she were brought outside, if that's possible."

"We will move to a courtyard closer to the citadel while Keilor goes to get her," Jayems offered while his cousin strode away.

Keilor did not like this, but what was he to do? Let Jasmine or the baby die because he couldn't bring himself to trust a stranger? So far it had been their allies who had betrayed them.

"Jasmine," he said, touching her cool forehead and smoothing back her hair. "I've found someone who can help you."

Her eyelids fluttered. "Keilor...help her."

He grit his teeth and tamped down on his concern. She was still delusional. "Rihlia is...fine, Dragonfly," he said, skirting the fact that she was still in intensive care. She was alive, after all. "But we need to get you some help." Careful not to jar her, he picked her up, blanket and all.

This had better work.

"The symbiont will not touch her as long as you do," Jackson warned Keilor. He held out one hand. "Your choice."

Keilor stared at Jackson's shoulder as he fought the instincts that clamored at him not to let this stranger, this one-time enemy, touch his helpless woman.

Jasmine moaned and shivered as she burrowed against him in a vain search for warmth. Her symbiont hung loose on her wrists.

The symbiont riders winced, and the woman murmured something sympathetic.

Keilor's face softened at the sight of Jasmine's pain, and he placed her in Jackson's arms.

She cried out, muttering something nearly incomprehensible about drugs and *only Keilor', but Jackson ignored her, holding her firmly as he stepped up to his silver cycle. For a moment nothing happened. Then the giant symbiont flowed and completely enveloped Jasmine.

Keilor hissed and instinctively grabbed for his sword, stopping just shy of drawing it. Thin streaks of pale green and brown flowed out of Jasmine's body and were absorbed into the large creature. It worked on her for several seconds and then withdrew, coalescing back into a blurred image of the silver cycle. It settled on the ground with a soft whump.

Jasmine opened her eyes, ascertained that the man holding her was a stranger, and twisted out of his arms. She shoved him away with surprising strength, considering her wobbly stance. "Who are you?" she demanded. A breeze teased her legs and she glanced down at herself with horror. Snatching up the blanket that had fallen away from the silver nightgown she wore, she whipped it around her shoulders. "What's going on? Where's-Keilor!" she squealed, as her husband caught her up in a crushing hug. "Let me breathe!"

His arms loosened, even though he did not let go. "I thank you," he said hoarsely, looking over her head to Jackson, who inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"For what?" Jasmine turned to see whom he was talking to. Her frown turned to an expression of surprise when she caught sight of the cycles. "Hey! A motorcycle!" She took a step toward it. Keilor's arms tightened a moment and then released her. "Cool," she said in awe. She reached out to touch it and then withdrew her hand to glance at Jackson for permission.

Jackson did not hesitate, but his answering nod was noticeably curt. In light of that, Jasmine kept her hands to herself, but her circling inspection was no less thorough.

"Nice," she pronounced with approval and then, "How fast does it go?" with a gleam in her eye.

"Don't even think it," Keilor growled, taking her by the shoulders and steering her away from temptation. "This is Jackson," he said, planting her firmly in front of the man she had pushed and ignored in favor of his symbiont. "His symbiont saved your life."

Rattled at her lack of memory, Jasmine frowned and unthinkingly asked, "Why?" Keilor's fingers tightened on her shoulders in disbelief.

Jackson's left eyebrow twitched. "Good manners?" he suggested.

Jasmine put her fingers to her temple and rubbed, as if that might bring back the memory. "I don't remember," she muttered. "Just guns and...Rihlia!" She turned as if to run to her friend. "She's hurt!"

Keilor stopped her with an arm around her waist. "You already helped her, and she's sleeping right now." It didn't calm her down, and he grunted as her elbow connected with his sternum. "Be still!" he ordered, squeezing off her air with his arm until she quieted, panting. He glanced sharply at Jackson, who spread his hands in ignorance.

"I've seen it before," one of the other Ronin offered, stepping forward. Jackson introduced the stocky fellow as Ma-at. "It's just the last of the poison working out of her system. A little sleep should clear her head."

"Very well," Keilor scooped up his uncooperative wife. "We'll talk later," he told Jackson, nodding his farewell. He headed for their room.

"I can walk," Jasmine grouched, struggling and completely oblivious to their audience.

"Later," Keilor answered. "Right now you're going to take a nap. Then we'll have a nice, long chat about manners..."

CHAPTER 27.

"So, what say we ditch these guys and see if we can't go scare up a pizza?"

Leo, the female Ronin, and the only other female in the council chamber, stared at Jasmine, startled. There was a lull at the table around them as the men broke off their tense verbal sparring to stare.

Jasmine didn't care. Ever since she'd woken up from her nap and joined the group in the council chambers, her temper had been slowly climbing.

The Symbionts wanted to open up negotiations for military cooperation with the Haunt. It seemed the cities they'd constructed beyond the swamplands were under attack by monsters from the East. Not only did they wish to drive the beasts off, they wanted to strengthen their position with the Haunt to ensure peace.

The Haunt princes who'd assembled at Jayems' command weren't adverse to peace, but they stubbornly refused to budge from the principal that isolation made good neighbors. Jayems himself remained silent as his Haunt peers dredged up ancient history about the bloody Symbiont Wars, as they called it, slapping down reason after ancient reason why the Symbiont nation was not to be trusted. Even Jackson's impassive face began to darken.

Figuring that it was either exit the place gracefully or run screaming from the room, stark raving mad, Jasmine decided to rescue the equally miserable and silent Leo while she was at it and leave the men to fight it out.

Dropping a quick kiss on Keilor's lips, she stood up. "Gentlemen, it's been fun, but I'm afraid my feeble female mind has become dizzy with your dazzling intellect. Besides, I drank too much water," she admitted. "So if you'll excuse us..." Taking Leo's arm before she could object, Jasmine half-dragged the young woman with her as she strode from the room.

"Have you ever seen such a bunch of idiots?" she muttered as soon as the doors had closed behind them, drowning out the sound of obstinate male voices.

"Jackson is my brother," Leo replied.

"I was referring to the Haunt."

"Ah. Well, in that case..." A suspicion of a smile crossed her face. "Perhaps I could be persuaded to agree." She cast a sidelong glance at Jasmine. "How is it you came to be matched with one of them, if I may ask?"

"Sounds like you have little use for them."

Leo turned her eyes to the hallway. "Our people have never known peace."

"A non-answer if I ever heard one," Jasmine observed, a little of her frustration seeping back. She hated this verbal sparring. Couldn't they just skip it?

Leo must have perceived her annoyance, for she said, "I do not know these Haunt anymore than they know me. For now I will try not to let my prejudice blind me."

Cheered by that, Jasmine led Leo to the mud spa after collecting Casanova and a couple of bottles of juice from the cooler in her room. She directed Leo to sit by the waterfall so that neither the two Symbionts who'd discreetly followed them nor her own Haunt guard could hear what they spoke about.

Jasmine popped the cap on her own juice and took a swig, staring at the moving water. "So tell me, besides the fact that you're Jackson's sister, how is it that you're the lone woman here? Isn't it a bit unusual?"

There was a moment of tense silence. "I convinced the council that I would be a good choice," Leo finally said. Jasmine just looked at her, daring her to evade the question. Leo sighed with disgust. "If you must know, it's because I was the one who followed you through the swamps, and am thus the one most familiar with you."

At Jasmine's raised brows, she added, "Your party was trespassing, and I was...curious. We rarely see strangers in our swamps, and the combination of a human woman among three male Haunts was most unusual. Unprecedented, in fact." She took a long swallow of juice. "It's due to my information that my brother decided the time was right to approach the Haunt. It was thought your presence might indicate softening prejudice."

"Hm." Jasmine scratched around Casanova's nubby horns and his ears went limp with pleasure. It was something to do to avoid a reply. Politics, especially those involving her, were never Jasmine's favorite subject. Casanova folded himself down with a sigh and laid his head in her lap, eyes closed in bliss.

Would she ever be able to trust so easily? "But why did you want to come so badly?"

Leo stared at her boots, clutching her bottle. "I had my reasons," she said.

Jasmine decided to let her keep one secret.

"My clan will not ally themselves with a parasite-laden pack of humans!" Tor Maphin, one of the assembled Haunt lords, shouted, rising from his seat.

Tilus, who was seated next to him, pulled him firmly back down, but his words were no more encouraging. "There has been peace between us for the past fifty years because of our segregation. The Haunt are strong enough to hold our own lands. If you are not, return to Earth."

The Ronin beside Jackson, Armatris, growled. Jackson quelled him with a look.

Keilor, who, like Jayems, had said very little until now, said mildly, "Even Haunt band together against a common enemy, or to trade, Tilus."

"Who should speak but the Haunt who's sired a half-breed abomination in the belly of his charmer?" sneered Tor Maphin. "We shouldn't wonder that you'd take their side. You and Mathin the Mad, with his fool's talk of alliances."

A muscle ticked in Keilor's jaw, but it was Jayems who said with cool challenge, "The charmer is not only my cousin, Tor, but she saved my wife's life and the life of my child. Show some intelligence and cry peace."

Mathin said nothing, but his very posture breathed menace.

Tor Maphin looked away sullenly. "I withdraw my complaint." Still, the tension in the room did not abate, and this time it also centered on Keilor.

"If everyone has formed an opinion then I suggest that we adjourn this meeting for now. Any objections?" Other than some sullen mumbling from Tor Maphin, which he ignored, there was none. "Very well." Jayems rose, and the rest of the table stood as well.

"As my guests," he said, addressing the Symbionts, "you'll be sharing the meal with me. I'm certain your journey has tired you, so I'll have you escorted to your rooms to refresh yourselves first."

Not until the council room was empty did Keilor allow a snarl to twist his lips. "Who made that mewling cub a council member?"

A wry smile twisted Jayems' lips. "We knew this meeting might be worse than fruitless."

Keilor crossed his arms. "There is truth in what Tilus says."