The Seer Page 12

  He smiled a little. “It’s a unique opportunity. I don’t think anyone in more than half a century has had this experience.”

  “I didn’t do anything that I don’t usually do.”

  He gave a nod. “Let try this. Try to focus more on what I’m thinking than what I’m feeling.”

  That first morning she’d woken up so frightened she’d sought him out for comfort. She remembered doing so with her parents when she was very young. But that morning she recalled almost, but not quite, being able to catch the thread of his thoughts.

  Her brow creased as she tried now.

  “I’m sorry,” she said after a long moment. “It’s no different.”

  “You’re tensing up.” He cupped her cheek in his warm palm for a moment. “This isn’t a test. Just try.”

  “Okay,” she said uncertainly.

  She sent her focus to him just as she had on the shuttle. Her breathing caught the rhythm of his. She skimmed along the ripples and eddies of his mind. She brushed past his interest, his nervousness, his warm attraction to her and extended her awareness a little deeper . . .

  She gasped.

  “What is it?” he asked instantly.

  “I—I don’t know. For a moment, in my mind, I saw me airskating.”

  Jolar’s eyes widened. “That’s what I was thinking, about yesterday at the rink.”

  Arissa shot to her feet. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

  “What?” He stood, catching her before she could flee. “Why?”

  “Why?!” she cried. “This is wrong! I shouldn’t be able to do this. No one should! I could hurt you. I might have already hurt you.”

  “Arissa, I’m fine.”

  “You don’t know that! I don’t know that!”

  He held her by the shoulders. She could feel him weighing it, but abruptly he relented.

  “All right.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “We’ll stop for now. Will you tell me about it?”

  She looked away.

  “It couldn’t hurt to talk about it,” he reasoned.

  She didn’t want to, she didn’t even want to think about it. “What do you want to know?”

  “Gods, everything! What did it feel like?”

  She shifted her weight. “Like for a moment I was in someone else’s body, looking out someone else’s eyes.”

  “Mine.”

  “Yes.” She tucked a curl behind her ear, remembering the flash of what she’d seen and her voice took on an injured tone. “I didn’t realize you thought I was so short.”

  He gave a quick, startled laugh. “Not short—delicate maybe.”

  “I looked short,” she insisted.

  “What else?”

  She wet her lips. If that’s really how she looked to him, what he saw was far different than what she saw in the mirror. If that was indeed what his eyes showed him, he saw her as far more beautiful then she ever imagined she could be to anyone.

  She wasn’t about to say anything about that though.

  “Well . . . you don’t think I’m much of an airskater.”

  He frowned a little. “I’m not sure I was thinking that.”

  “You were thinking about me getting hurt. Worrying about it.” She gave an uncertain half-shrug. “Maybe worried I’d fall?”

  “Oh,” he said quietly. “Yes, perhaps I was.”

  She searched his face. “Are you okay? Do you have a headache or anything from it?”

  He shook his head. “No, nothing.”

  She wet her lips. “Could you feel anything?”

  He considered her question carefully. “I’m not sure. I thought for a moment—”

  “What?” she asked anxiously.

  He touched the center of his forehead. “Something light, like a tickle. So light I wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been trying to feel something.”

  “We really shouldn’t do this again.”

  “Why not? I’m not hurt.”

  “But what if you are next time?” Arissa closed her eyes briefly. “And what if doing this makes it worse? What if I can’t pull back at all? What if I get lost in other people and can’t find my way back to myself?”

  “Arissa, I think practice will help you control it. I think we’re going to learn a lot by doing this together.”

  It would much easier if he weren’t so starblasted happy about the whole thing.

  “Jolar, this is dangerous. We have no idea what will happen to you if we continue.”

  “You know what I think?” he asked, folding his arms. “I think nothing will happen. I think the damage they said Seers caused was a bunch of nonsense. I bet nothing like that happened at all.”

  “There was more than enough proof during the trials—”

  “And you don’t think that ‘proof’ could have been manufactured when the New Order took power?” he interrupted. “Victors write the history, Arissa. I bet if Jensah had her chance to study you her tests would show that you aren’t a danger to anyone.”

  Her brow creased. “Is that what you want? For Doctor de’Sar to study me?”

  “No, of course not. Besides any conclusions she might make in your favor would either be altered or quietly suppressed.”

  Arissa shook her head. “Jolar, my mother was a scientist. You can’t alter test results like that. The scientific community wouldn’t stand for it.”

  “Yeah, well.” He passed his hand over his eyes. “It’s just as well Jensah didn’t get to study you. Knowing her, she would shout her results from the rooftops and the government on Tellar would have had to shut her up.”

  “They do things like that?” It had never occurred to her that non-telepaths— normal people— had anything to fear from the government.

  His mouth was a thin grim line. “Oh, certainly. Jensah’s already gone against the grain a couple times or she wouldn’t have owed me so big. Her ethics are skewed toward doing what’s right, not necessarily what’s in her best interest.”

  “Like you,” Arissa said, with a slight smile. “Maybe it’s a Zartani trait.”

  His vivid gaze sharpened on her. “Maybe.” His smile came back. “Well, if I can’t convince you to try again, we might want to think about showing our faces at dinner.”

  “I guess we haven’t done a lot of socializing.”

  He gave a shrug. “I only wanted enough of it to enhance our cover a little. People who might have seen us onboard, that sort of thing.” He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. “Let me grab a shower then I’ll run out while you get ready. There’s an errand I want to do.”

  Arissa let her breath out in relief when dinner ended. It took an enormous amount of energy to keep to her role, hold her telepathic focus to the people around her and eat at the same time—it was like performing in a theater in the round.

  Worst of all it made it nearly impossible to enjoy the meal.

  The food was exquisite and beautifully presented. Vegetables arrayed in bursts of color highlighted the entrées, fruits cut in the shapes of exotic flowers decorated the sweet mousses; layered desserts glistened in Aylorian crystal glasses.

  Her few precious moments of peace during the meal were spent in seeking the familiar comfort of Jolar’s mind. Sitting across and down the table from her—why did they never seat married couples together?—his moods showed him anything but awed by the meal.

  The blatant attempts at flirting from the Sertarian at Arissa’s side won him Jolar’s glare though. Jolar sent out tiny barbed flicks of anger and annoyance at the man from his end of the table.

  The Sertarian might not have been aware of Jolar’s ire during dinner but he couldn’t have missed the dark, warning look on Jolar’s face when he came to collect her at meal’s end. His broad warm hand was possessively at her waist to urge her ahead of him and away from the man as soon as she stood.

  “How was dinner?” he asked, taking her hand when they reached the busy corridor.

  “Fine.”

  “Good,” he said. Then aft
er a moment, he continued casually: “So, I couldn’t hear much from my side of the table. You seemed to be getting on pretty well with your dinner companion though.”

  “I guess so.”

  “You hardly talked to anyone else at your end.”

  “Oh,” Arissa said, adjusting her wrap. “It just worked out that way.”

  “And the two of you found a lot to talk about?”

  “Hmm.”

  “Anything you’d care to share with me?” he asked, a definite edge to his voice now.

  Arissa burst out laughing.

  His blond brows rushed together in a scowl. “What the hell’s so funny?”

  Arissa beamed up at him. “You’re jealous.”

  He stopped short.

  “Gods, you’re right,” he whispered hoarsely.

  He blinked down at her, his emotions churning wildly. Seer that she was, she honestly couldn’t tell if he were about to burst out laughing or hang his head and sob right here in the middle of the busy corridor.

  It was the most extraordinary and complex shift of emotions she’d ever encountered.

  “Jolar?” Her brow creased, placing her hand hesitantly on his chest. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes,” he said as if that answer surprised him. “Yes, I am.”

  “Do you,” she tried to think of something that might help, “want to sit down or something?”

  His glance darted about as if he were startled to find that they were still standing outside the ship’s dining room with dozens of people around them.

  “No,” he said continuing their walk and, just like that, he seemed like himself again. “Let’s go to the gardens. You wanted to see them, didn’t you?”

  “If you’re all right,” she said uncertainly.

  Jolar checked the directory and found the gardens’ location to be two decks up.

  Arissa glanced at him as they rode the lift, the strong line of his chin, the long straight nose, the fullness of his mouth, felt the core of grave responsibility beneath his striking blond good looks. She could well imagine him rising to the rank of Admiral or gaining that Council seat he’d talked about. He had the charisma of a born leader and the easy confidence to lead well.

  But his oddness tonight was troubling. Had she hurt him?

  He seemed determined to keep testing her Seer abilities. Even her parents, who loved her so, actively discouraged her from using them. The whole idea of it made her feel queasy. Somehow she had to dissuade him from experimenting further.

  Jolar took her hand in his warm, broad one again when they exited the lift. His long fingers did indeed make hers look positively delicate.

  The gardens’ entrance was pretty enough, but not very impressive and, at this time of the evening, with casinos, bars and dancing available onboard, clearly not very popular.

  A dozen paces in, they turned a corner and Arissa caught her breath.

  The green wood of liter trees seemed to coil high above them—even though she knew that was impossible, the ceiling of this deck couldn’t be that high—and the broad ever-moving red leaves rustled softly under a perfect lavender sky.

  “How—” she managed. “How did they do that?”

  “Same way the Star Quest game works but I’ll bet some of the plants are probably real.” The air ruffled his hair. “The breeze is a nice touch though.”

  “This is Novic, right?” she asked, looking around hungrily at the recreation of that world.

  His good spirits dampened at the reminder that without an ID she had been unable to travel. “You’ve never been there.”

  “No,” she breathed. “Have you? Have you been there?”

  “Yes. Many times.”

  “Will I be able to see all the worlds? What’s next?” she demanded. The urge to see all of them quickly, before the opportunity could be snatched away from her, made her pull him along the path. “What world’s next?”

  “Uh, I don’t know. I mean it could be any of—”

  She stopped short upon stepping into a tropical world of lush green and blue. The warm, humid air caressed her face.

  “Gensoy,” she said, recognizing it from her studies. “This is Gensoy.”

  Tropical plants crowded around them, their scent heavy and rich. Beside her stood a tree thick with shiny indigo leaves. Jolar caught her hand before she could touch it.

  “Gendara tree. Their leaves have a nasty sting.” He touched the leaf lightly, and rubbed his forefinger and thumb together. "Though these seem to have been altered to minimize it."

  "They don’t sting you?"

  “I have a tolerance now but damn, they stung me all right. I was stationed on Gensoy after basic. Our shuttle blew an engine relay on the way there and fried the comset. Tasan and I had to set down and go on foot.”

  “Tasan?”

  “A good friend. In fact I had a drink with him the day we met.” He shook his head. "Two days though a Gensoy rainforest."

  "Was it as beautiful as this?"

  "Oh, it was beautiful all right. Until I brushed against one of those.” He nodded at the dark leaf." They sting every time you touch one, then you start to itch. Poor Tasan, he never did develop a tolerance. Gods, it was miserable.”

  “I wouldn’t mind,” she said, continuing along the path. “I wouldn’t mind at all if I could see it for myself.”

  “Right,” he said dryly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the ground is covered with these leaves so there’s no place to lie down. You can’t even sit. Believe me, you’d mind. But this,” Jolar said as they stepped into the next garden. “No one minds.”

  “Nima,” she murmured, breathing in the salty air, the sun warm on her face. The water was clear as blue glass, the fine white sand absolutely pristine. Beyond the beach, in the distance, she could see flowered trees and waterfalls. “I’d love to really see it. I’d do anything to see it.”

  His arms went around her waist, his body warm against her back. “There’s no reason you can’t.”

  “Would the ID—” she broke off. They weren’t really here, alone at a beach on the paradise of Nima. They were onboard a vessel with thousands of passengers, someone could enter this ‘garden’ any moment.

  He pressed a kiss to her temple and rested his cheek against hers. “Yes,” he murmured. “Anywhere you want.”

  Arissa smiled and leaned back against him. The ocean breeze lifted her hair. “I wish we could go for a swim too.”

  “Well, that might be a little more than these projectors can handle,” he said with a laugh.

  Delighted, she pulled him along the path but the sight as she stepped into the next world brought stinging tears to her eyes.

  “Oh, gods,” she whispered. “It’s home.”

  The zanti trees were in bloom, their purple flowers giving off a sweet perfume. The Apovian sky was as blue as Jolar's eyes.

  She could almost hear her mother calling her in for the evening meal.

  “Arissa?”

  She was shaking. “I can’t stay here. I can’t.”

  “It’s all right, sweet. Come on. It isn’t far to the next one.”

  Arissa was still trembling when she stepped into the rolling green hills of Lema.

  Jolar cupped her cheek. “Are you okay?”

  She focused on the dark red hardwoods of Lema, the rich country scent in her nostrils. “It was so real. It even smelled like home.”

  “You’ll be able to go back there when—when we’re finished.”

  “I don’t want to,” she said instantly. “I don’t ever want to go back.”

  He gave a rueful smile. “You may want to go home, someday.”

  She wouldn’t, she thought, turning to continue along the path. She would take her new ID and whatever name they gave her and choose a new world. One without grief, one without memories of hiding and loneliness and guilt . . .

  She felt his jolt of recognition before he even stopped.

  “Speaking of home,” he murmured.

 
Verdant and bright with clear blue skies, the Zartani vegetation was carefully cultivated, elegantly shaped as if the wildness of nature was thought to be in poor taste. Trees with fragrant white flowers bloomed around them and holographic gossamerflies glided on currents of warm, sweet air, their colorful wings shimmering in the sunlight.

  Arissa’s eyes widened in wonder. “Is this really what Zartan looks like?”

  “This is it, all right.”

  “Oh, Jolar, it’s so beautiful!”

  He threw her a smile. “I’m glad you think so.”

  “How long has it been since you’ve been here? Well, not here. Zartan.”

  He considered. “A year? At least that long.”

  “I’d love to see it.”

  “Would you?” His vivid eyes were intent now. “I’ll take you. I’d love to take you, to show you my home.”

  Her heart picked up speed. They’d never talked about what would happen between them after she helped him. She’d been afraid to think too much about it.

  “I have something for you.” He fumbled in his pocket and brought out a small wooden case. His face colored and unceremoniously he shoved it at her. “Here.”

  She took the case from him, the honey-colored dalsawood smooth in her hand and opened the lid.

  “Oh,” she breathed at seeing what the case contained.

  “Is it all right?” He shifted his feet. “I mean, do you like it?”

  The center jewel of the bracelet was a Zartani firestar and the surrounding gems sparkled in the light, the gold setting astonishingly delicate. “It’s lovely.”

  “You don’t have one. If we’re married you’d have a betrothal bracelet.” He cleared his throat. “You should have one.”

  “Oh,” she mumbled. “Right.”

  He took the bracelet from its case then slipped the box into his pocket. He fastened the bracelet around the wrist of her left arm, like a married woman would wear it after she were wed, not on the right as a betrothed woman would.

  The delicate floral design of the golden cuff encircled her wrist for a perfect fit.

  It was the most precious thing she’d ever had.

  “Thank you.” The words seemed silly, inadequate, far too banal for what she was feeling.

  “I’m glad you like it,” he said a little stiffly.

  “Of course I do. It’s absolutely beautiful.”