Mine to Take (18 page)

At first the Wee-chukchuks did nothing but fuss around, checking everything out. Ogga seemed nervous.

Then as one they lifted their round noses in the air and tested the scent. At the same time, they all turned their heads and stared at Gian.

The Familiar narrowed his eyes at them.

Eight Wee-chukchuks broke into actual little grins, their smiling mouths showing their little white teeth. Then they faced forward and began to pull the platform.

“We go now!” Gruntel shouted happily.

They went. At
a
zorph’s
pace.

Sometime later they still hadn’t cleared the front yard.

Gian’s mouth twitched. The absurdity of the situation got to him. He was trying desperately not to laugh. Jenise began giggling into her cloak. Traed blinked and stared off to the right. A suspicious snort came from his direction.

Gian pinched the bridge of his nose.
{What are we doing?}
he asked anyone who would listen. The platform barely crawled onto the main pathway.

Traed turned to him and said quite seriously, “We are Wee-chukchuking.”

Both Jenise and Gian roared with laughter. The corners of Traed’s lips twitched.

“Good thing they liked your scent, Gian,” Jenise added facetiously. “Who knows how long it would have taken us otherwise?”

This time even Traed laughed as the strange cart crept along the path.

The Wee-chukchuk proved themselves useful when the land started to dip down into gullies. Their wide, sharp paws dug into the ice and they were able to pass through areas that would have been difficult for the travelers to navigate on foot.

Jenise thought the starlit journey through the icy forest was particularly lovely. The cool, crisp air, the silvery branches against the dark sky, created a magical scene before her that she knew she would never forget.

Gian stood behind her, his muscular, leather-clad legs bracing her back. His presence added to the mood of this night, for even though she still would have enjoyed the scenery had he not been with her, it would not have been the same. There was a sense of excitement around the Familiar. He was like an adventure unto himself.

What was more, he made her feel so incredibly alive! Not simply because of his sensual expertise; it was everything about him. She suspected her impression was not due only to this journey they were on. It would always be that way around him. Gian was a unique, vital presence.

Once again she grew sad at the thought of leaving him.

As if he sensed the momentary change in her mood, he reached down and stroked the side of her neck with two fingers as he spoke to Traed. The unconscious, tender gesture affected her deeply. She affectionately rubbed her cheek against the back of his hand.

Near daybreak, they reached the Tunnel entrance.

It stood alone in the middle of the woods, a silent, pulsating maw of light. Jenise guessed that its location was significant in that it was hidden. She was proven correct when Gruntel informed them in his stilted speech that this Tunnel led to an Alliance world. Once they exited this Tunnel, there would be another close by that would lead directly to Aviara.

Both men cheered at the news.

Though Jenise was also happy that the most dangerous part of their journey was apparently over, she was also somewhat downhearted, for she knew her time with Gian would soon be over. Back in the beginning, when she had gone to him as he lay chained to the wall, she had never
imagined the relationship that would develop between them.

But then, she hadn’t anticipated someone like Guardian of the Mist.
How could she have?
Surely there was no one like him.

Gruntel surprised everyone by saying his good-byes.

“You are not coming with us?” Traed asked the guide as he took him aside.

“No come. Gruntel finished here. Take you as promised. Need go home now.”

“I see.” For some strange reason, Traed felt somewhat sad to see him go. He had actually come to like the Wiggamabob. And the guide had helped him when he had been struck with the poisonous quill. “Would you like to come to Aviara with us?” he surprised himself by asking. “I am sure we can find a place for you.”

Gruntel shook his head, his small eyes bright. “Need go home,” he repeated sadly.

Traed nodded acceptingly. Taking from his cloak a uniquely designed black and silver pouch heavy with stones, he held it out to Gruntel as payment for his services.

Gruntel grinned, eagerly scooping up the pouch. “Much good pay, Charl knight!” He did his little dance, turning around on his fat feet.

Traed smiled slightly. “Gruntel, I am not a Charl knight.”

Gruntel secured the stones inside his gray robes, ignoring Traed’s claim as he had from the beginning. “Accomplish great deed—save us all. Maybe get special reward from Charl!”

Traed’s features instantly turned to stone. “There is nothing I want from the Charl.”

Gruntel cocked his bumpy head to the side. “Want something. In heart. Deep. Gruntel know.”

A dull bronze highlighted the Aviaran’s high cheekbones. He turned away.

“Ask for heart’s need. Never hurt.” He patted the warrior’s back with his fat, leathery hand.

The Aviaran paused before saying softly, “Farewell, Gruntel. I wish you well.” He began walking toward the Tunnel entrance.

“Remember Gruntel’s words, Charl knight!” Gruntel called after him as he entered the portal.

Traed hesitated briefly but continued on.

Gruntel leaned on his crooked little staff, making sure they all entered the Tunnel safely. Satisfied, he continued on his way.

A Wiggamabob always took his job as guide very seriously.

By their own reckoning of time passage, they arrived in the Hall of Tunnels on Aviara later that same day.

Jenise marveled at the beauty of the planet. The wide streets in the village were of paved stone and led to a center plaza flanked by shops. There were blooming trees and flowers everywhere, their exotic scent sweetening the air.

It was daytime here on Aviara and Jenise looked up, noting the clear, light blue sky. Just a hint of breeze wafted her hair. Trills sang in the trees and bushes and she saw that crystal chimes were hung in numerous places; their soft, tinkling sounds lent a harmonious atmosphere to the lovely scene.

Aviara was even more beautiful than she had heard. Inhaling deeply of the flower-scented air, she sighed.

“It is beautiful, is it not?” Gian smiled as he took in the welcome sight.

“Yes, even more lovely than I imagined.” She beamed up at him. “I am so glad I came here with you! It was one of the places I had always longed to see.”

His gaze shifted to her. “Your joy pleases me.” He lifted his hand to remove a stray lock of hair from her face. “It is your choice, but perhaps you would like to see M’yan as well,” he offered.

Overhearing the Familiar, Traed raised an eyebrow. Gian was a wise and deadly hunter. Such tactics as these were not unknown to Aviaran warriors. He watched the scene play out before him, fascinated.

Jenise’s eyes widened in surprise. “The Familiar homeworld?” No one was ever allowed on M’yan except by personal invitation. The Familiar guarded their privacy zealously. All kinds of rumors circulated about the place. Some said it was a mysterious world, harsh and unforgiving. Others claimed it was a place of untold ecstasy.

Whatever its nature, Jenise was sure such an opportunity would never come her way again. She would be foolish not to take the chance to see it for herself.

“That is very generous of you, Gian.”

Traed folded his arms across his chest.
Generous.
Gian had her completely ensnared. He patiently watched Guardian of the Mist appear to act humble. It was a sight not to be missed.

“Then you will come?” Gian beseeched in a sincere tone. He knew very well what such an invitation to explore would mean to her.

“If you do not think it would be any trouble…” She no idea that the Familiar had purposely waited for just the right moment to issue such an invitation.

Gian smiled much like the cat he was…the one in control of the intricate game he played. “No trouble at all,
taja.”

“Then I should like that.” She smiled gratefully up at him.

“Good.” He took her hand. “You shall be ours, of course.”

“Ours?” she looked at him, puzzled.

“A figure of speech.”

It was more than that, Traed knew. When a Familiar took you into his home and said those words, he was claiming you to his family. His home was open to you as if it were your own.

Before she could question him about what the saying meant, he firmly led her in the direction of the home of Krue and Suleila.

It was a lovely day; they had survived to reach Aviara; she was going to have the rare opportunity to view M’yan; and she would not be leaving Gian for some time to come. All in all, she suddenly felt happy.

Traed noted Jenise’s light step and shining eyes and had to hand the victory to Guardian of the Mist.

Not that there had ever been any doubt of the outcome. Still, he wondered what her reaction was going to be when
taj
Gian got her safely ensconced on his homeworld.

Traed’s chiseled lips curled. From what he had seen of Jenise, he did not think she was going to take the situation lightly.

He almost envied Gian his battle to come. Speaking for himself, he had always had a liking for danger.

Of
any
kind.

Before they could reach Krue’s home, the ancient wizard Yaniff met them on the road.

“Gian!” He heartily slapped the Familiar on the back.

“Yaniff, my old friend.” He hugged the wizard in greeting. “I have much to thank you for, it appears.”

“Pssht!
You have nothing to thank me for. I am only glad to see you are well and unharmed.”

“Yes, but you must thank Traed for that. If it were not for him we would not be here.”

Yaniff looked at Traed approvingly. “I never doubted you would do less, my son.”

Bronze highlighted Traed’s cheeks. Uncomfortable with praise of any kind, he muttered,
“Taj
Gian makes more of it than it was.”

“Are you saying that
taj
Gian exaggerates, Traed?” Yaniff shrewdly rejoined.

Either way he answered, Traed was caught. Annoyed
at the wizard’s ability to trap him in such a way, he stared stonily ahead, refusing to say anything.

Yaniff chuckled. “You have done a valiant thing for the Guild and for the Familiars, Traed. Do not be shy to say so.” Yaniff turned to Gian. “I can glean what has transpired from your mind.” He looked pointedly at Jenise. “I will apprise the others of the situation. Do you wish to speak to the High Guild now?”

Gian thought for a moment. “Yes, I will. Jenise, Traed will take you to Krue’s home, where you may rest until I come. Suleila, his wife, is a member of my family.”

Jenise bit her lip, hesitant about going to a stranger’s home expecting shelter. Gian cupped her cheek. “It is all right, Creamcat. She will be happy to have you. You will like her very much, I am sure.”

“Perhaps I should go to an inn?”

“No. Traed, take her to Krue’s.”

Immediately Traed came forward to do so.

“Gian!” Jenise protested his high-handed attitude.

“I know you will be cared for there in the home of my family. I will see you soon.” He bent down and imperiously kissed her lips.
{Tell Suleila to keep silent.}
He sent the thought to Traed, who inclined his head in acknowledgment.

It wasn’t until she was being led away that Jenise wondered how the Familiar had managed to get her to do exactly as he wanted. She had never heard that tone of command from him before! It was rather…forceful. A niggling worry crossed her mind.

Gian entered Krue’s home some time later, finding Traed in the great room. The warrior’s hair was once more pulled tightly back in a ponytail. He was sipping a cup of warm
mir
as he idly thumbed through a book.

Obviously he was waiting for Gian to return so that he might leave. Despite the fact that three other warriors resided in this household,
taj
Gian had entrusted Jenise to him. Traed would not leave until the trust was returned to Gian. Such was the Aviaran way.

“Where is Jenise?”

Traed looked up as the Familiar entered the room. “She is resting upstairs.”

“Where is everyone else?”

“Krue and Suleila went to see Melody.”

“Ah, Lorgin’s babe. Yaniff has told me Krue is besotted.”

Traed smiled slightly. “Yes, it is something to see. The babe has him at her bidding. He claims she looks just like him.”

Gian laughed at the picture of a legendary warrior such as Krue being brought to heel by a mere babe. “Does she?”

Traed shrugged. “I am not one to ask of such things.”

Gian had observed that although Traed was a part of the family of Krue, he was apart. It was unfortunate for all concerned. “Where is Rejar?”

Traed steepled his fingers, resting his chin on the tips. His mood was indecipherable. “Rejar is at Yaniff’s.”

“Yaniff’s? What does he there?”

“Ah…you would not have heard. Rejar has joined the Charl.”

Gian’s brow raised.
“Willingly?”
he asked disbelievingly. He could not imagine Rejar subjecting himself to the discipline needed to become a Charl warrior. Rejar had ever been of a capricious nature. Loving life and women. And not always in that order. In all ways that Gian could see, he was a true Familiar.

Traed smirked. “Willingly…that is a matter of some debate.”

Both men chuckled. Although half Familiar and half Aviaran, Rejar seemed to have inherited the most independent
qualities from both sides. Rejar’s father Krue and Yaniff had both railed at him for years to join the Charl, but to no avail. The men of Krue’s bloodline followed the path of the Charl warrior. Gian could only speculate on what machinations Yaniff had employed to get the frisky Rejar to comply. He would find that out later, but right now, he had more pressing matters on his mind.

Gian became serious. “I have apprised the guild of the situation on Ganakari.”

Traed put down his drink. “And?”

“Karpon must be stopped, of course. And the nature of the drug they administered to me must be ascertained. It is my belief that certain steps should be taken in the meantime to ensure the safety of the Familiars. I have done what I thought best.” He did not elaborate on what that was, but Traed sensed there was much on Gian’s mind.

“I am sure you have done the right thing, Gian.”

“The Sages wish to see you, Traed,” Gian said in a quiet voice.

Traed was not happy with this. He had no desire to be embroiled further with the mystics’ unending schemes. “Why do they wish to see me?”

“I have told them what you did to save us.”

Traed’s nostrils flared. “I wish you had not, Gian.”

“They would have seen it, regardless…in my mind.”

“No. You could have shielded your thoughts from them.”

Gian sighed. So, Traed knew that Familiars could shield themselves from high-level Charl. “It would not have been right. You deserve recognition for such a deed. They wish to speak to you.”

Traed stood resignedly. When the House of Sages requested an audience, there was little choice in the matter. “No, they want something from me.”

“It was not the impression I received.”

“You know them not. Believe me, in the end, they will
want something. If not this day, then the next.” He quietly closed the door behind him.

“Then I am sorry, Traed,” Gian said to the empty room. A warrior with such power as Traed’s, who refused to be Charl, was walking a very dangerous path.

Perhaps it would be good for Traed to come to M’yan for a while as well.
The more Gian considered it, the more he realized what an excellent idea it was. For both of them.

In fact, he would insist.

Traed stood tall before the House of Sages in the High Guild. Insolently, he threw his shoulders back, meeting each and every eye that faced him.

It was his first time to be called before them as a group, even though separately, he had met them all.

Although they had never made any decrees regarding him personally, their actions against his natural father had punished him as well. It was an unjust chastisement of an innocent boy that had affected his entire life.

And he had suffered greatly because of it.

He would not welcome a summons to this chamber on any day.

Gelfan was first to speak. “We would compensate you, son of…Yaniff.”

Traed’s pale green gaze narrowed. The man could not even bring himself to say his name. “It is not necessary. I seek no compensation from
you.”

Ernak cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed by Gelfan’s rudeness. “You misunderstand, Traed. We, the Sages of the High Guild seek to make up for…for the way we have dealt with you.”

“The way you have dealt with me.” Traed’s dry tone caused several to avoid his piercing look.

Ernak was one of them. He looked away uneasily. “The way we ignored your position in all of this. Surely you
see that was not our intention. In light of your abilities, we seek to mend this error. A power such as yours cannot be overlooked or ignored. Whether you desire it or not.”

Traed snorted, crossing his arms contemptuously over his chest.

Gelfan’s palm slapped down on the table. “He needs guidance; that is obvious! That power cannot be allowed to run amok!”

Traed raised a scornful eyebrow. “Really. And which one of you will designate to not
allow
me to go about my way?” The challenge was there. He impaled each member save Yaniff with a chilling glare.

As expected, no one spoke. Who in his right mind would challenge such a power?

Yaniff stepped forward. “This is not necessary, Traed.” He used the voice of a Charl master to his student.
“Think well ere you speak your next words.”

Traed hesitated despite himself. He had been about to challenge Gelfan. Yaniff’s warning resonated through him. Besides protecting him, Yaniff was letting him know that Gelfan might welcome such a challenge for his own ends. Traed would not go against Yaniff. “As you wish, Yaniff. Out of respect to you and you alone, I hold my tongue.”

Wolthanth was impressed. “What can we do for you, Traed? Surely there is something. I, for one, do not feel right about what has transpired in the past. In any event, even if the incidents of the past had not affected us all, we still would wish to compensate you for this valiant service you have performed. You have saved Guardian of the Mist, something both our peoples applaud. Under the circumstances, there was not another who could have brought him out alive. It was your level of power and ingenuity that delivered him back to us. You have rewarded our trust in you and now we wish to reward you in kind.”

It was an eloquent speech. Wolthanth had neatly turned aside his past grievances and focused instead on the present. By his words he had made it very difficult for Traed to refuse a reward. Nonetheless, there was nothing he wanted from them.

Suddenly he heard Gruntel’s words again. “…
ask heart’s desire…”

Why not? What did he have to lose? “Very well, Wolthanth. The Guild may begin to make amends by granting me my rightful name, which has been denied me these many years.”

Silence reigned in the cavernous room.

Finally Zysyz spoke. “What name is that, Traed ta’al Yaniff?”

Only the slight flickering of an eyelash betrayed Traed’s hurt. “There is a name that belongs to me—indeed is part of my bloodline—which you in your wisdom have denied me.” He bit the bitter words out.

Traed turned to Yaniff, genuine sorrow etched on his face. “Forgive me, Yaniff, and know that I do this not to dishonor your name, which I hold above all others. There is another whose name I should bear, however. One whose bloodline is directly tied to mine. Does he not stand for my mother’s line?”