Two lethal gray eyes speared Lorgin before popping behind the couch.
It was all Rejar could do not to burst out laughing.
Oblivious to the danger he was in, Lorgin leaned against the back of a couch, crossing his arms again. “She wanted to come to see you, Rejar, especially when she found out you had come to her world. But she quickly agreed with my reasoning when I—”
“This is Adeeann’s world?” Rejar was surprised. Some of the language similarities he had noticed immediately, but there were so many differences he had assumed he was on a sister planet.
“Yes, Adeeann’s world, but”—here Lorgin looked carefully at his brother—“not her time.”
The nuances in Lorgin’s words passed by Rejar. Lorgin was not totally surprised; after all, his brother was not a Charl mystic and would have no reason to understand the significance of what had occurred.
“I did not know Adeeann was from Earth.” At his extempore comment, Rejar heard a slight gasp of dismay come from behind the couch.
“She is not. She is from the Disney World.”
“But you said…Lorgin, this is Earth.”
Lorgin stared at his brother, then blinked once. “I see. I think my wife has some explaining to do.”
Rejar smiled before keenly prodding Lorgin. “Perhaps she can explain it to you when you bid her to—since she listens so well to you, brother.”
Lorgin’s brow instantly lowered, proving Rejar had not lost his touch. “That is not humorous, Rejar. In all the months you have been gone, I vow I have not missed your sense of—”
“Months?” Rejar interrupted. “What mean you months? I have not been here that long.”
“I speak in standard Alliance terms; you have been gone—”
“Lorgin, they measure the passage of time here much as we do.” It had surprised him how similar the standard Alliance day, based on the rotation of Aviara, was to this planet’s. Though the names were different in his language, Aviarans also marked day, week, month, and year. “Why do you say I have been gone months? I have only been here a relatively short period of time; perhaps a little more than a standard month—but that is all.”
It was as Lorgin had feared; he looked steadily at his brother. “You have been in the Tunnels for many months, Rejar. Almost a year measured by the passage of Aviaran time.”
Thinking it was not so, Rejar dismissed Lorgin’s words. “It is not possible!”
“After you released the Shimmalee, what happened to you?”
Rejar thought back. “There was an immediate disturbance; a violent upheaval followed…” He shrugged. “I was carried along with it, then suddenly an opening appeared and I fell through to…here.”
“Yaniff thinks that during the cosmic storm, you were buffeted by temporal waves. Somehow the release of this particular Shimmalee back into the Matrix caused vast shock ripples throughout the flux of time. Since you were still in the Tunnels while this occurred, you rode the waves of the phasing storm, leaping time pulses within the Matrix itself.”
Rejar was concerned by this new twist of events. “It does not seem possible. The whole thing seemed like just a brief occurrence to me.”
“Perhaps it was.” Lorgin paused. “Rejar, Yaniff believes you might have been affected by the experience.”
Rejar’s head snapped up. “Affected how?”
“He was not sure. He wanted me to ask you if you sensed any changes within yourself. Have you?”
Rejar reflected a moment. Except for his restlessness and his penchant for Lilac Devere he felt exactly as he always had. And the restlessness he had experienced before he had entered the Tunnels. “No. There is nothing. I am as I have always been.”
Lorgin watched his brother closely. “Yaniff believes otherwise. Although he did say that whatever the effect is, it might not be apparent for some time, mayhap not even in your present incarnation.”
The Familiar was surprised. “I am years away from my first incarnation.”
“This I know. There is no need to be concerned now. What will happen has already been set in motion. There is naught to do; best we concern ourselves with your present circumstances. Let us leave now and return home, brother.”
Lorgin straightened, preparing himself to open the tunnel.
Rejar quickly forestalled him. “Lorgin, wait!”
“What is it?” Lorgin turned to him.
Rejar’s sights flicked to the couch; he sent his thought privately to his brother. {I cannot leave…just yet.}
Lorgin looked shocked. “But why? Do you not wish to return home?”
“Of course I do, but…” He glanced at the couch again. {There is a certain woman here I want.}
Lorgin exhaled in disgust, his voice getting louder with every word he uttered. “I vow I cannot believe what I am hearing! Are you telling me that I have left my wife, my pregnant wife, to come halfway across a universe after your reckless hide and it is not convenient for you to leave now because you wish to krnack!”
Rejar rubbed his ear in sudden embarrassment, trying not to look into the bemused gray eyes that were peeking around the couch. “Lorgin—”
“What can you be thinking!” Lorgin threw his hands up in the air, totally exasperated with his Familiar brother. Then he took a deep breath to calm himself. “Look, Rejar, it is not as if I do not understand these things. Even though I am not Familiar, I can assure you I have had more than my share of exotic encounters on the many planets I have visited. Indeed, a night’s pleasure with an alluring alien is something every man remembers fondly—”
“Ah, Lorgin…” Rejar thought it was time for him warn his brother. Especially if he ever wanted Lorgin to speak to him again.
“As you know, in the past, before I mated, I had somewhat of a reputation among the Knights of the Charl for my”—he broke off to grin roguishly—“dalliances. Indeed, I was—”
Rejar closed his eyes and inwardly groaned. {Your wife is here, you fool! She is hiding behind the couch listening to every word you speak.}
Lorgin stopped speaking midsentence, frozen to the spot, his pupils dilating in horror. Slowly, his sights shifted to the left in the direction of the couch.
It was too late.
There his wife stood, hands on hips, eyes narrowed to tiny slits of gray lightning, foot tapping imperiously.
He was a dead zorph.
Lorgin, being the sharp warrior that he was, immediately figured out that the best defense was a good offense. Purposely, he lowered his brow in an intimidating scowl, painting the same ferocious expression on his face that he knew in the past had sent many an opponent fleeing from him in utter terror. His voice was precisely, ominously, low.
“Zira, how come you to be here?”
His little wife did not even flinch.
Instead, she continued to glare at him. Hmm. Her stance did not portend well for him. The irritating idea that his brother could have warned him a lot sooner raced across his mind, but he would deal with that later; for now he needed to reassert his authority with his wife and hopefully save his own skin.
“I asked you a—” He began imperiously, only to be cut off by an outraged exclamation of feminine fury.
“How dare you try to bulldoze your way out of this one!” Deana tried to look fierce as she stomped across the room, although she supposed her ungainly waddle took a lot of the bite out of it.
When she came abreast of her husband, she stood on tiptoe and grabbed him by his arrogant, knightly ear. Deana knew Lorgin just hated it. Which made it all the more satisfying to her.
Ear captured, Lorgin glared at her, speaking through tightly clenched teeth. “Woman, do not dare—”
She did. Twisted it for good measure.
“I vow I hate when you do that!” His amethyst eyes flashed down at her, his ear still caught firmly in her grip.
It was all Rejar could do not to burst out laughing.
“Good! Now listen up, Lorgin; I want to know right now if you thought I was
one of your exotic dalliances, because if I was—”
Lorgin looked at her aghast, all traces of effrontery gone. “Of course you were not! How can you even speak such a thing? I have told you I have loved you from the moment I first saw you, how I longed for…” Lorgin caught the flash of Rejar’s white teeth out of the corner of his eye and suddenly realized his brother was a captive audience to this embarrassing display of affection.
And a highly amused captive audience at that.
His jaws snapped shut, a dull flush of bronze highlighting his cheekbones.
Deana, noticing her husband’s embarrassment, thought her diversionary tactic was working extremely well. She’d have to remember this one. “Very well. We’ll let the matter drop—this time.”
Unfortunately, Lorgin recovered very quickly.
“No, we will not, zira. I ask you once again, how come you to be here?” He lowered his face to hers, his nose nearly touching her own. “After I expressly forbade it!”
Not in the least intimidated, Deana fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I followed you into the Tunnels when you weren’t looking.” She quickly kissed the tip of his nose.
Lorgin blanched. “By Aiyah, tell me you did not! Have you no idea of the danger in such a maneuver?”
Deana dismissed his alarm with a shrug. “Danger, shmanger. I was right behind you; what could have happened?” Lorgin’s pupils contracted to pinpoints as he stared down at her, a sure sign he was upset.
“I did not know you were behind me,” he said dangerously soft. “When I exited, I could have sealed the Tunnel with you in it.”
Deana swallowed, rather sick at the idea. She hadn’t thought of that. Her voice came out a tiny little squeak. “Oh.”
The small acknowledgement did not seem to mollify Lorgin in the least.
Deana swallowed again. There was going to be Hell to pay for this one; she just knew it. Change of subject needed at once.
Quickly, she plastered a smile on her face, turning to effusively greet her brother-in-law. “Rejar! It’s so good to see you!”
Chuckling at her obvious diversionary ploy, Rejar threw his arms wide, letting Adeeann run into them for a hug. Holding her hands in his, he stepped back to observe her very rounded stomach. It was all the proof he needed of Lorgin’s words. “It is true then; I have been gone for some time.”
“And we missed you so!” Deana eyed him appreciatively from the tip of his Hessian boots to the thigh-hugging black pants to the pale gold waistcoat over frilly shirt to the top of his sultry, handsome head. “Look at you! Decked out like a Regency dandy!” A great hunk of a Regency dandy. The women here must be drooling their coiffed heads off, she acknowledged to herself.
Lorgin, not liking the way his wife was eyeing the cut of his brother’s clothes, decided enough was enough.
“So, you have seen your Ree Gen Cee Ing Land, zira.” He took her hand firmly in his, refusing to release it when she gave a halfhearted tug. “Now do we go home.”
Rejar stepped in. “Lorgin, I ask you to wait.” {I must explain something to you.} The thought he sent only to Lorgin.
“What is it?”
{I cannot return with you now. There is something unfinished here for me.}
“A woman!” Lorgin spat out, causing Deana to look at both of them curiously. What were they talking about?
{Yes, but it is not what you think.}
Lorgin raised a skeptical eyebrow.
Rejar gave him a feral smile. {Well, it is not totally what you think. I am engaged in a t’kan, a special hunt. I can not break off now. I need to—that is, I—}
Lorgin watched his brother curiously. He had never seen him like this—sure and yet…bewildered. And he had unconsciously used the Familiar word t’kan but Lorgin knew it did not mean just a special hunt; it also meant a love hunt. Was his brother aware he had used that particular word?
Lorgin watched as Rejar began to pace the room. No, he was not aware of it.
The light of knowledge sparked in Lorgin’s eyes. So, once again Yaniff was right. His brother would not be returning home with him. At least not now. Lorgin was enough of a mystic himself to know when to stand down.
“Who is she?” he asked Rejar softly.
“Who’s who?” Deana piped in.
Lorgin gently squeezed his wife’s hand, bidding her to be silent.
{Actually, she is the woman I almost fell into when I was propelled from the Tunnels.} Lorgin watched him silently. {She is called Lilac.}
“I see.” More than you know, brother, Lorgin reflected.
{It is just that there are…unresolved matters between us. It should not take long. Not that I could not leave now, but—}
Lorgin chuckled to himself. His poor brother was really in a remarkable state of confusion. So, he had misread the exhaustion on Rejar’s face; Lorgin would wager it was not his brother’s usual type of carousing which had put the circles beneath his eyes. In fact, his brother was strung as tight as an Aurlan’s bow.
There was only one thing Lorgin knew of that made his brother this on edge. Forced abstinence. He grinned to himself. Now this was a day to be marked!
“And what does this Lilac make of you, dear brother?”
Rejar rubbed his jaw; he did not want to explain to Lorgin the strange situation he found himself in. {It is somewhat complicated; suffice it to say she curses me by day.}
“Ah.” This was promising indeed! “But what of the nights?”
Rejar grinned wickedly.
“As I suspected.” Lorgin returned the grin. “I can see you have no need of my assistance for the time being, Rejar. However, if I leave, you need be aware I will not be able to return for you for some time.” He nodded pointedly at Deana’s swollen belly.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Deana frowned at her husband, wondering if she was missing something. Neither man responded to her question, which made her all the more nervous. If there was one thing she’d learned about these Aviarans, it was: when you least expect it—expect it.
“I understand, Lorgin. Do not be concerned; I have learned to get along quite well in this world. My name here seems to have much magic.”
Lorgin just looked at him doubtfully. “Hmm.”
In typical Familiar fashion, Rejar ignored the Lorgin euphemism. “Before you leave, Lorgin, tell me of Traed. How does he fare? I have thought much on him since last I saw him.”
They all were silent for a few minutes as they each remembered that last, terrible day when they had gone to confront Traed’s natural father, Theardar, on a barren Rim world. Traed had suffered terribly that day. Finally Lorgin spoke.
“Traed is…Traed. He has taken himself back to the land of Theardar’s people—back to the Sky Lands of Aviara. Yaniff despairs for him, although he claims Traed seeks to heal his heart.”
“How does one heal such a rent?” Rejar asked.
“I know not.”
Rejar knew it was time to tell his brother something that had been on his mind for a long time; he looked Lorgin straight in the eye. “Traed is our brother of the line.”
Lorgin surprised him by saying, “I know. Yaniff told me everything. When did you first sense it, Rejar?”
“When we were at his keep.”
Now Lorgin knew why his brother had acted so strangely when they had visited Traed on Zarrain. “Did you not sense it when you were a child? He was with us much then.”
“No. This particular Familiar ability develops later in life. It is hard to imagine sometimes—that father had a sister and Traed was her son.”
“It does take some getting used to,” Lorgin agreed.
“Blood of our line; now he is likened to a brother. I do not know if it is a good thing for him to remain long in the Sky Lands, Lorgin. Traed needs to come home.”
“I have thought the same. I suppose I will have to go and drag him out of there.” Lorgin did not seem happy with the prospect. “It seems I am destined to chase after the two of you.” He gave h
is younger brother a pointed look combined with a long-suffering sigh.
Rejar’s dual-colored eyes sparkled with mischievous humor. “Then I will be sure not ever to disappoint you, Lorgin.”
“That is what I am afraid of. Come, Adeeann, let us bid Rejar farewell for now.”
“Oh, Lorgin, couldn’t we stay here—just for a little while? I would really love to see what this time period was really like. Think of the fun we could have!”
Lorgin shook his head regretfully. “I am sorry, zira. We cannot.” Deana started to object, but he placed a finger gently across her lips. “Do not ask me to explain; you must believe me when I say we must leave now.”
Deana watched Lorgin closely. There was a reason he wanted them to go back to Aviara. Besides being a Knight of the Charl, her husband was also a holder of the fourth power, a mystic in his own right. If he thought they needed to leave, then perhaps they’d better leave. She sighed. She had so wanted to get a glimpse of this fantastic time period in her planet’s history.
As if he knew her thoughts, Lorgin took her hand and led her to the window. Pulling back the curtain, he opened the window, saying, “Look, then, zira, and see this world that was once yours.”
Deana stuck her head out the window and gazed in awe at the street below. It was like a museum exhibit come to life! The coaches and riders, hawkers and venders! The exquisitely costumed men and women! The sights and sounds and—
Deana wrinkled her nose. The stench in the streets!
She quickly popped her head in, holding her nose. “My God! What is that awful smell?”
More than slightly nauseous, she turned to her brother-in-law. “Good grief, Rejar, do you ever get used to it?”
“No, you do not.”
“And you still want to stay here? Oh, Rejar, come home with us now.”
“It is not always this bad, Adeeann.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” Deana fanned her face, trying to dispel the memory of those noxious odors.
“Sometimes it is worse,” he joked. At her crestfallen face, he added, “In certain areas it is not so bad.” He remembered the clean, fresh scent of Lilac’s home and garden, and the lovely countryside he had visited.
Lorgin took Deana’s hand once more. “I will return when I can, Rejar; until then—be well.”