used to detail her report of the camp, the Elecampanes, the progress of her studies, as well as the investigations of others and the progress of the excavation. Put the longer outline for her story atop that.
Possessiveness and territoriality. She should have considered that. Other staff had Fams.
Jace tossed and turned. Glyssa didn’t visit him that night in dreams, either erotic or platonic. The irritation between them would keep her subconscious mind from drifting toward him for dream sex.
He hadn’t really expected her to come to him.
Had he?
But he didn’t sleep much, remembering the awful events of the day, his mind cataloguing them as if
The morning had started out all right, with that walk with Zem and Lepid in the cool breaking dawn when most of the camp slept and the scents of nature ladened the air and he knew he strode through wilderness being tamed.
Then all his peace had been shattered as men had grabbed him and ’ported with him back to the opening of the ship. Accused him of theft! Of hurting the guards! Of being so greedy he needed something small and precious from the ship
The day had deteriorated from there, the mortification of having Glyssa make excuses for him, his being banned from the communications and the excavation teams, being ignored at lunch.
And just before he’d joined Zem in the tent to sleep, he’d gone to the large circle around the central campfire . . . and been stuck on the outside of the circle instead of the first row. No one had smiled at him, invited him to scoot next to them. No woman had gestured for him to sit behind her and be her prop. No one had even met his eyes. That had all hurt.
His status in the camp had plummeted and, in fact, he couldn’t gauge it, didn’t know where he stood with the crew. He didn’t like that at all.
People he thought were friends apparently weren’t. Friendly rivals, like Andic, had turned sour toward him.
Tomorrow would be a tougher day as he adjusted his relationship with every single person in the camp. As he watched while others got to descend into
He did know one thing. There wasn’t a curse on the camp, or a curse on him, but someone definitely wanted him framed.
He looked over at Zem who he’d set on a simple stand he’d made in the workshop, then Jace rolled over again on the too-thin bedsponge, feeling battered in mind and heart. In the dark, he tested the tiny link between him and Glyssa. Still there. His body ached for a woman. Ached for Glyssa. No!
But in the black heat of the tent with sweat beading on his aroused body, he admitted the truth. He ached for one woman only.
Terrible thing. If he gave in to his lust, she could lead him around by the balls, like his mother had done with his father.
He listened as people drifted back to their tents, mostly in couples, talking, a small laugh here and there but not the usual loud cheerful chatter . . . this “bad luck” business affected others, too.
He hadn’t felt so lonely in a long time.
Glyssa didn’t sleep well. She’d gotten used to visiting Jace in her dreams. So she moved restlessly, waking throughout the night. Weather blew in with gusts of wind, and she enjoyed feeling safe in her pavilion, hearing the sounds of the camp in a spattering rain so much that it took her mind off the disasters of the day . . . so she didn’t say the short rhyme that would soundproof her walls.
When Lepid zoomed through the door, deep in the night, after his nocturnal rambles, and hopped onto her bedsponge yipping a
“Want to cuddle?” Before she’d finished the sentence, Lepid had crawled near her hip and curled up, fluffing his tail. He shivered.
Her hand went to his thick, coarse fur. “You are warm and safe here with me.” But it was a reminder that the official end of summer would come within a month and the camp would close for the winter in no more than two months. What would the Elecampanes do then?
Surely Glyssa’s story for Camellia would be done, as well as her field report. Her report was on schedule. Attracting Jace’s attention and getting him to be her lover wasn’t proving as easy as she’d anticipated.
She’d made a HeartGift for her HeartMate, of course, during her second Passage dreamquest at seventeen to free her Flair. And, by law, if she gave him his HeartGift and he kept it for a full eightday, she could claim him as her husband, bound to her alone for the rest of their lives.
She hadn’t thought she’d need to do that, and her HeartGift was so precious to her, and her pride so full that she’d win Jace without it, she hadn’t brought it with her. The origami hawkcel remained protected in her home bedroom safe. Foolish.
Lepid licked her hand, his tongue rough and damp, but love infusing his bond with her.
Glyssa snorted, she only wished that were true.
Wiggling into a more comfortable fox-circle, Lepid said,
Which had Glyssa’s thoughts winging toward Jace again. She sniffed. If
Fifteen
Jace tapped the opening tab near the top of his long, bespelled weather bag atop his bedsponge. The side gaped, letting in chill air. Grunting, he got out, drew on his heavier spring/fall clothes, muttering the heat activation Word on them.
He touched the bag and the thing rolled up into a round sausage. Maybe he wouldn’t need it tonight, but he was glad he’d purchased the bag before the season began. He glanced over at Zem, who stood on his perch, feathers slightly puffed, his head drooping and his beak in his chest, asleep.
That had Jace sighing in relief. He’d crafted a large spherical weathershield atop Zem’s perch in the middle of the night, a Flair spell he didn’t often do himself since it was tricky. Usually he bought bespelled items like clothing and hats. To his surprise, the spellwork had gone unexpectedly well, as if he’d grown in Flair or matured in technique during the last few years.
He must admit that he preferred to apply hands and back and intelligence to problems rather than to rely on psi Flair magic. He supposed that was because his selfish mother had used her Flair to browbeat his slow thinking
