Mine to Take

  “You had no warning of this in your sight?” Yaniff often had premonitions. In the past, many of his premonitions had warded off disaster for both Aviara and the Alliance.

  “No, I saw nothing. And that worries me.” Yaniff absently stroked Bojo’s feathers.

  “Perhaps there was nothing to see and we make too much of this accomplice.” Rejar scanned the treetops, noting their rich color against the sky.

  Yaniff’s dark eyes pierced the younger man. Of all the things that Rejar needed to learn, one of the most important was to focus. “Do you believe this to be so?”

  Rejar looked at the old mystic, surprised. Yaniff was asking him if he had sensed anything. What was he thinking? “Yaniff, you know I have naught of those abilities.”

  “Mmmm.” They walked on.

  Rejar knew the wizard was implying something. “What mmmm?”

  Yaniff gestured with his staff. When the old wizard did that, he usually was up to something.

  Rejar gnashed his teeth together, positive another esoteric lesson was coming! What had he been thinking about—a nice, relaxed walk? For once he would like to take a simple stroll without having to think so deeply!

  Yaniff chuckled. “Why waste the opportunity? Surely you can move and think together, my young friend. I, myself, have witnessed you doing thus on many an occasion when you were in the company of females.”

  Rejar flushed, realizing too late he had not been shielding his thoughts from Yaniff. “As I have been telling you all of my life, Yaniff, I do not have this Charl power you speak of.”

  The old wizard waved his staff about, confirming Rejar’s suspicions about the lesson with his next words. “The nature of power comes from within. If you believe you do not have it inside, then you are truly powerless. Conversely, if you think you have it within you, then there it resides.”

  Rejar blinked as the meaning of his master’s words sank in. “You are saying I do not show my Charl power because I believe it is not there?”

  “You have never acknowledged it to yourself, Rejar, and so it sleeps within you.”

  Rejar snorted in disbelief. “I cannot credit this! Am I to just say yes, you are here inside”—he thumped his chest—“and there it will be?”

  “It is more complicated than that and yet in some ways it is that simple.”

  Rejar arched a black eyebrow as he teased the wizard. “You speak in riddles again, Yaniff.”

  Yaniff snickered. Rejar and his ways…“You cannot simply think these things into being, Rejar.” At least not at this stage.

  “I am not sure I understand you, Yaniff.”

  “Let us look at Guardian of the Mist.”

  “Very well.” They rounded a curve in the path and headed deeper into the forest.

  “Gian never wonders about his power because it is not in him to do so. That is why he is so very much in control. His strength comes from his instinct and this he knows. He never questions himself.” Yaniff glanced at Rejar shrewdly. “But then he is a Familiar.”

  “As am I.”

  “Not entirely.”

  Rejar shot him a look. True; not entirely. “So you are saying if I reflect upon my inner strength then I am powerless?”

  “Not so.”

  The wizard confounded him. Rejar threw up his hands in disgust. He did not have the patience for these lessons that led him in circles!

  Yaniff’s eyes twinkled as he watched him. “It is the nature of a Charl to reflect. You, Rejar, are also Charl.”

  “So you say,” he flippantly responded.

  “So it is.”

  Rejar’s mouth firmed in annoyance. “Then how am I to balance these sides of myself? The Charl reflects; the Familiar reacts!”

  They both bent under a low-lying branch. The forest suddenly gave way to a hidden lake. The men stopped by its edge to gaze across the calm water.

  “You must learn to take those qualities from each side that will be most beneficial at any particular moment. Not an easy thing to master, but an important one.”

  Rejar let the intriguing notion sink in as he stared out across the water. Water, Yaniff had told him, was always mystical. Sometimes it had the ability to bring forth revelations. He idly wondered if Yaniff had deliberately brought him on this path to this place for just such a purpose.

  “If you think to ask that then you already know the answer.” Yaniff stared straight ahead.

  Rejar exhaled heavily. “And how am I to do as you say,” he asked quietly, “balance my inner self?”

  Yaniff’s lips curved mysteriously. “You must rely on your Familiar instinct to lead you. Mystical growth comes from an opening within, not by a show of outward force. Might must never be mistaken for true strength. Our abilities can be the catalyst to our deeper power if we but heed this lesson. That is the real strength of a Charl.”

  Rejar concentrated on Yaniff’s words, his blue and gold eyes reflective as he gazed upon the water before him. The Familiar in him would bring out the—

  Power.

  Instinct and Charl power…

  His blue/gold Familiar eyes gleamed as comprehension sank in. Willingly, he unveiled his special senses, letting everything flow through him at once; letting his instincts guide him home.

  Something seemed to stir within him…a deep, nestled consciousness that began to unwind. It uncoiled from the pit of his belly, tingling up his back to travel down his arms. It grew and grew, building and building, this feeling, this something that was coming from inside him!

  He felt the vibrations clear to his toes before they seemed to resound, reverberating through him.

  Blue and gold Familiar eyes began to flame with incandescent glowing sparks. Brighter and brighter they blazed. His captivating eyes ignited, gathering strength and luminescence. His entire body began to hum with this strange vibration.

  The forest around them literally quaked! The wind whipped through the trees and the sky itself suddenly roiled with turbulent masses of dark, gathering clouds. It was then that the very ground shook beneath his feet.

  Before he knew what was happening, twin beams of crystal-white light shot from his Familiar eyes. They were aimed directly at the lake he had been viewing.

  A deafening crack resounded.

  In a flash, a great ball of steam rose high into the sky, evaporating immediately into threads of mist. Whereupon everything became still once more.

  Silent, yet not the same for the lake that had been there an instant before was no more. Its water had been instantly vaporized by the tremendous flux of energy.

  Shocked, Rejar turned a stunned look upon his master. The twin beams of light had come from his own eyes! What kind of power was this? He had never seen anything like it.

  Yaniff chuckled dryly at his student’s awe-stricken expression. A student should have more faith in his Charl master. “Thus you see a small measure of your abilities, Rejar.”

  “What kind of thing is it, Yaniff?” Rejar was visibly shaken. He could still feel the power crackling through his veins. An undertone of concern laced his voice. “What does this mean?”

  A satisfied look crossed the old wizard’s face. “It means, my student, that your true nature has shown itself at last!”

  And in that same instant of being, all the mystics in the realm of Aviara and beyond, in this plane of existence and beyond, in the Tunnels and beyond, stopped to recognize, to acknowledge, and to pay homage to the staggering power that had just been revealed to them.

  Power unbound.

  Power foretold.

  Power that could see truth.

  It came from he who was named Gifted.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A white caftan laced with gold had been laid out for her.

  Jenise assumed it was for the festivities that evening. She picked up an edge of the garment, fingering its smooth, soft texture. It was an extraordinary fabric. The material would glide against her skin and shift with the movements of her body as she danced.

 
As I dance…

  She sat down on the edge of the bed. As far as she knew, Gian did not know of the Frensi custom of the Dance. Not that it would be an issue between them.

  From what she knew of him, Gian was not a man to expect anything that was not freely given. He might use feline strategy to obtain his desired results, but in the end, he would never take that which was not offered to him. Still…her mother’s consort was ever bitter that her mother would not perform the Dance for him. She could not, for she had performed the Dance for Jenise’s father.

  Frensi women loved best only once. Their perfect love. Sometimes, for various reasons, this love was given to someone they would never mate with. Rarely they were fortunate enough to find that perfect love and mate with him as well.

  Her hand glided down the satiny fabric. The garment she was to wear to celebrate their mating. Her mind registered its feel upon her palm, but her thoughts were on Gian…

  “You look lovely, taja.” Gian picked up her hand to warmly kiss the center of her palm.

  The tip of his tongue delivered a quick, steamy message before he released her. “Our men will be desirous of your beauty tonight.” The look on his face was one of pride.

  Jenise blushed at the compliment; although after viewing him, she could see why the Familiars had such reputations for perfection of form. He was, as he always had been, breathtaking.

  He was dressed all in white, much like her. His white boots, white breeches, and white flowing shirt were all laced with gold strands. The stark white color against his golden-tan skin and long, bronze gold hair created a vivid contrast. And there was always that mysterious curve to those lips of his.

  “It is you who are beautiful, Gian.” The only time she had ever seen him more handsome was when he wore nothing at all.

  Her lips twitched at the indecent thought. Jenise, what has happened to you? she asked herself. She wondered at the changes that had recently taken place inside her that she could view a man so…so…sexually.

  His fingertip brushed her pliant lips. “And what are you thinking, hmmm?”

  She grinned wickedly. “Nothing.”

  He raised an eyebrow in plain doubt. “I see. Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes.” Taking her arm, he led her to the massive chamber that had been designated for the mating celebration.

  The massive double doors were thrown wide as they entered the chamber. Jenise was amazed by the sheer size of the room as well as the number of Familiars who were there to attend.

  Everyone stopped speaking when they entered.

  A sea of Familiar faces, male and female, all strikingly beautiful, greeted her. She could see that some of the Familiars were grouped together, presumably by the clans Gian had mentioned before.

  Not a sound was heard in the chamber as everyone stared at her in shock. Clearly, they had been expecting a Familiar woman. Jenise stiffened by Gian’s side, again questioning the wisdom of appearing together this way.

  {Relax and give them a moment to adjust.} Gian squeezed her hand.

  A distinguished man stepped forward. His hair was slightly silvered at the temples and there was an air of reserved wisdom about him. He stood directly by Gian’s side. Jenise recognized him from the face on the treat she had taken earlier as Gian’s utal, H’riar.

  The advisor’s gesture was definitely a message of strong support for the taj and his choice of bride.

  Unconcerned by his people’s silent reaction, Gian smiled warmly at her. Taking their joined hands, H’riar raised them high into the air. “The tajan of Ren!” he yelled out, his rich voice booming throughout the hall.

  There was a pause, then fifty men came forward—all the heads of Familiar clans. They joined their fists as one, raising them together to the ceiling. “The tajan of Ren!” they all shouted together.

  Gian’s eyes lit up in an altogether feline way. He smiled broadly.

  Without warning, he whipped Jenise around in front of him and lifted her high in the air, twirling her about. A deafening roar reverberated through the room as all the Familiar shouted at once with a joyous sound.

  After that, things got amazingly boisterous.

  Jenise was soon to learn that the Familiars were a funloving people who adored celebration. Several clan musicians picked up their obats. The unique, concordant sounds they produced were sensual, exotic, and at present, lively.

  Many Familiar broke into unrestrained dance, swinging their partners through the air in provocative movements which revealed their wild, free nature. They didn’t seem to care whom they danced with—as long as they danced. Men danced with men, women with women; they wove about, switching off until, in a seamless pattern, men were dancing with women, then back again. The intricate steps were flawlessly executed.

  Jenise watched, wide-eyed. “Are they always like this?” she asked, amazed by the dexterity and passion she was witnessing.

  “No. Usually they are wilder. Wait until the night progresses, Jenise. Then you will see how the Familiars can celebrate happiness.” He winked at her, his face alight with pleasure.

  Jenise’s breath stopped. She would remember Gian like this, she thought. Always. His captivating features glowed with the pure happiness of the moment.

  “Look, Gian, there is Traed.” Sure enough, the Aviaran warrior stood at one side of the chamber, apart from everyone else, as was his wont.

  Jenise watched as he glanced over at the table, which was overflowing with all manner of delicacies. She could tell the exact moment the warrior spotted the treats with his likeness painted on them, for his eyes glanced over them, then immediately shifted back.

  His handsome brow furrowed as he inspected the tiny treats with a puzzled expression.

  While he was peering at them in mystification, a pretty Familiar woman strolled over and picked up the Traed treat. She placed it in her mouth, letting it dissolve slowly.

  Traed arched his brow.

  Jenise giggled.

  Gian chuckled. “He will find his experience here a new one, to be sure. Let us greet him, Jenise.”

  She nodded, happy to see the Aviaran again. His quiet, controlled manner had impressed her greatly during their journey. No matter how he tried to conceal himself, there was a caring side of his nature that always drew others to him.

  “I am glad you have found your way here, Traed.” Gian clasped his shoulder.

  “Taj Gian.” He inclined his head at Jenise. “Tajan.”

  “Traed, I am happy you have come.”

  “Tonight, in addition to welcoming the tajan, we honor Traed ta’al Krue!” H’riar came forward, his sure voice quieting down the chamber. “For his valiant service to our Guardian of the Mist, we gift him with entrance to M’yan whenever he so desires. From this day forward he will be considered as one of us!” A great cheer rose as all saluted the Aviaran warrior who had saved their king and queen.

  Traed was speechless. He faced Gian. “This is not necessary. It was nothing—”

  “Do not speak further lest you insult me. Surely you do not mean to indicate our lives are nothing.”

  Bronze highlighted his cheeks. “Of course not. However, I—”

  “Good!” Gian slapped him heartily on the back.

  Traed was clearly irritated by the turn of events. The Aviaran warrior glowered.

  Gian grinned. “You will have to endure it, I am afraid, my friend.” He gestured in the direction of the pretty woman Traed had noticed earlier. {Have you ever been with a Familiar woman?} He sent his thought only to Traed.

  Traed shook his head, his jade eyes sparking briefly as he watched the sensual dark-haired Familiar woman move to the music.

  {You will find it unlike any of your other experiences. They claim they are not satisfied until they scream and scratch and beg for more.}

  Traed cocked his brow.

  {Although, I admit, I prefer creamcats.} Gian glanced down at Jenise, then winked at Traed.

  Jenise looked back and forth between the two of
them. “What are you saying to him?”

  “What makes you think I am speaking with him?” He gave her his most innocent look.

  “Now I know for sure.”

  Both men smiled.

  “I must introduce Jenise to the clans.” Gian took her hand. “I will speak with you later, Traed.” Gian glanced meaningfully at the young woman who had caught Traed’s eye.

  Traed started to nod, then froze. His chiseled face paled as he looked straight ahead into nothing as if he had been physically staggered by a sharp blow.

  Concerned, Gian rushed to his side. “What is it, Traed?” He looked down and noticed that the Aviaran’s Cearix was glowing. The dagger at his waistband lit to a bright flash before fading back to its usual appearance.

  “Something miraculous has happened…” Traed was still shaken by whatever it was he had felt.

  “What? What is it, Traed?” Gian put a hand out to steady him.

  “It is…Rejar?…It is Rejar.” He seemed stunned.

  “What about Rejar? Is he all right?” Gian was concerned for his blood relative.

  Traed blinked, coming back to himself. “Nothing. I am fine now.”

  He did not look fine. The man was still white around the mouth. Whatever had occurred had shaken the normally controlled warrior.

  Gian scrutinized him closely. “If you are sure you are all right, then I will see you shortly.”

  “Yes.”

  He led Jenise away, still wondering what could have so moved the stolid Aviaran. Whatever it was, it involved his kinsman Rejar. Gian made a note to ask Yaniff about it. The mystic would arrive later this eve along with the Sages, who were to seal the Tunnel.

  So far the people were putting on brave faces, but Gian knew their happiness would be short-lived. Joy would be shadowed by sorrow on this occasion.

  Gian brought Jenise forward, introducing her individually to the heads of all the clans. The process took a long time, lasting well into the evening as each in turn introduced her to his family and advisors. Gian laughed to himself, knowing that Jenise would never remember all of these people’s names.

  But Jenise was making her own observations.

  The males, she curiously noted, were almost all in their prime. All striking. All supremely virile. All sensual. All different. No wonder these men were so sought after!