Chapter 7

**

Gwen expertly filets the trout, and sets it to cook on green wood skewers over the crackling fire. She sits back, and smiles at me. The smoke curls straight up, into the trees above us, and on into the bright blue sky. The morning mist has cleared off, leaving traces of itself in the surrounding hollers, just enough to look inviting and mysterious. Dew drips from wild rhodedendron and sweet bay magnolia surrounding the clearing, and bird calls echo through the sun-shot woods all around us.

I recline in a camp chair, propping my hiking boots up on the firepit rocks. I grin back, twirling a piece of grass in my mouth. We’ve been here only a couple of hours, but I already feel rejuvinated, relaxed. The meeting of the Archons seems to belong in the far distant past, part of history already. But I know one reason Gwen and I have come here, to my grandparents’ former land… to discuss what’s been decided and to do some problem solving, one-on-one. We seem to work well that way, after all these years. There’s always the distance, though, between us; the distance of owner and ownee, I guess, I think to myself.

The grilling fish smells lovely; I sit up and inhale sharply. The leafy smell of the woods, a mixture of pine and hardwood, comes to me clear and fresh. The scent of the soup bubbling in its pan makes me even hungrier, and I lean over it, stirring. It’s a thick soup, almost a gumbo. Even though it came from a packet, it’s damn good. Especially with the wild onions that Gwen added on an impulse.

Gwen stands up and walks over to the cabin. She emerges a few minutes later, grin white in the deep tan of her face. I look up, wondering about her merry look, and notice she’s holding something in one hand behind her back.

"Hey, what’s behind you?"

"Hmm? Behind me?" She twirls, teasing me, keeping whatever it is from my sight. "Don’t see much…" Her laughter, bell-like, rings through the clearing, and the birds quiet down some. The wind tosses the tops of the trees gently, and I smile up into the face of my Muhmis.

"You’re being a scamp, now, Gwen…" I say. I jump up, and try to see what she’s hiding so obviously from me. I spend a few minutes, frustrated, trying to move around her to see, and finally give up. "Yeah, yeah, I should know by now, you’re too fast… I give up. What is it?"

"Sit down, close your eyes, and hold out your hand, and maybe, just maybe, I’ll show you."

Holding out my hand, feeling silly, but intrigued, I wait. I feel her sit near me; the warmth from her body being so close washes over me, leaving me very… aware… of her. There’s a weight, velvety, placed on my hand, and I grasp it. It’s a velvet covered box of some sort, I can tell from the feel. "May I open my eyes now, Muhmis?"

"Yes, dear girl. Open!"

I do, and look down into my outstretched right hand. A black velvet case sits there. My curiousity itches, and I glance at her face, asking with my expression, my eyes, if I can open it. She nods, her red hair bright in the sun, and smiles warmly at me.

Opening the lid, I see a piece of parchment inside. I lift it into the light, and read it. To my darling Erin. Your constancy, your dedication, your beauty, your wit… this is a symbol of my thanks. With love, Gwendolyn. My mouth drops open, and I read the message again. And again. I look up into Gwen’s eyes, and see the affection there. She murmurs:

"Go on, look inside again. The note’s not the only thing, ma mignonne. Look…"

I place the note carefully on my leg and peer back inside the case. Inside, nestled in a silk cushion, is a gold chain with a tiny ruby dragon, identical to the ones she wears on her formal collars, hanging from it. On the breast of the dragon, an "E" is scripted, delicately, and inlaid with a thin copper-colored metal. I gasp, my heart thudding in my chest. "My god, Gwen… it’s… oh, jeezie petes… it’s exquisite, beautiful!"

"Let’s see it on you, then. An exquisite for an exquisite, perhaps?" She reaches over and takes the necklace, letting it shimmer brightly in the sun for a moment. Then she hooks it around my neck, letting the dragon fall down to my collarbones. It looks a little odd against my white tshirt, but at the moment, I don’t care a whit. The gold feels heavy against my skin, cool. Her fingers linger at my throat, stroking lightly.

I take her face between my hands and kiss her for a long, long moment. The words of the note flow through my mind… "Thank you, thank you, Gwen… it’s lovely, you shouldn’t have…"

"Oh, yes, I should have. I believe in rewarding excellence. You’re important to me in so many ways, not least of which is the way you kiss. Mmmhh, yes…"

A few minutes flash by and then we break. Gwen lets me up for air, and I laugh out loud. "Thanks… hate to have to bury me in this, so soon… air’s so darn important, y’know…" I poke her in the ribs with a forefinger; it’s like hitting a ribbed steel wall, so I’m careful to be gentle. Don’t want any sprained fingers, girlfriend, I think to myself. Gwen chuckles and sits up, and then hugs me, tightly. Holds me that way, both of us silent, until a log pops in the firepit.

"Hate to have to bury you at all, my sweet, ever… hmm, the fish is done, soup’s ready, do we have plates?"

"And some forks, knives and spoons, coming right up," I say, bounding to my feet and racing to the kitchen cabinets. I get the utensils and the plates and return to the fire, where Gwen’s taken the fish from cooking and places the hot food on our plates. They’re old ones, thick and a little chipped. They’re like the ones old time diners used to use; Mamaw loved the pattern on them, interlacing leaves of ivy in light green. I remember all the meals I’ve eaten from them, all the meals she cooked with so much talent, and love. I wish both of them, Mamaw and Papaw, were here, now…

"Delightful. These trout were good-sized ones, Erin. Maybe we’ll go fishing again, tomorrow. Sound fun?"

"Yes… but you love fishing, I love bird watching, or rock-hounding…" I smile at her, recalling the morning’s fun. She joked with me at the river, telling me to go upstream and chase the fish down to her with all my climbing around. She had caught these bare-handed, flicking them out of the water in a smooth blur of motion.

"We work well together, though. I’ll crack those geodes for you this afternoon, and we’ll see what’s inside. Must be some caves nearby… I smelled black bear, earlier, by the river. And quite a few deer. Perhaps a whiff of cougar, or what did you call it…"

"A painter, the folks ‘round hereabouts call ‘em. A mountain painter, or panter. Basically, a mountain lion or cougar. Big cat. Can be dangerous, though…"

"That’s what I like about them, darlin’," Gwen smiles, drinking some water. "Perhaps some wine, for dessert? Some of that mountain wild grape wine you bought in that little village, ah, Monteagle, would be tasty. A bit on the sweet side, but a nice change."

I get up and fetch it, bringing it back with two glasses. "To you, for thinking of me, and giving me this, and the note… to you, my Muhmis," I toast, raising my glass to her. She smiles widely at me, and our glasses chink together musically. The sweet, wild grape wine tastes good; chilled, it slips down my throat and warms my stomach. Gwen leans back onto the grass and sighs contentedly.

"To us, and the future, my girl, the future…"

**

I lie on my back, watching clouds go by. The sky’s blue is deepening, the sun getting ready to slide behind the hills surrounding us. Gwen’s next to me, munching on some carrots. Her metabolism is so fast, I think, we had to about carry a grocery store up here when we came for a week… I grin, and roll over to face her. She stops munching, her aristocratic face splitting in a lecherous smile. She reaches for me, and I giggle, trying to roll away. Strong arms catch me, and pull me on top of her. I look down, my hair shading us both. "Gwen… is this all you think about?!"

"No. But it’s one of my favorite things to do with you…"

I sigh, dramatically. "But we’ve been doing the frisky all day… I’ll be a wraith by the time today’s over, not to mention by the end of the week. I thought we came up here to talk, too, not just do the wild thang, Muhmis…"

"Hmm. Point well taken. I guess I could restrain myself for a few hours, possibly…" Her hands continue exploring, tugging at my clothes, and I frown in mock severity.

"Muhmis!" I do a very credible imitation of the just-barely surpressed frustration yodel that May and Ariadne’ve been treating us to for weeks now. Gwen looks at me for a moment, and frowns slightly. Uh-oh, did I go too far? I wonder, and then relax as she laughs merrily. She pulls my head down and kisses me, almost bruisingly hard, and then lets me sit up.

I cross my arms and sit on her, letting my weight bear down on her hips. I bounce, once, and then scramble free. Gwen follows my movements, pouncing, and then she’s on top. She bounces considerably more than once, only stopping when we’re both laughing so hard it’s difficult to breath. "All right, my spicy wench. Choose—bumping and grinding, or talking. One or the other…" Her white, even teeth flash in a grin, and I return it.

"Talking, please…" I sit up, with her help, and we regain our composure. It’s funny, I think, she can be the coolest cat in the world one minute, the spirit of command the next, and then a silly kid in the grass with sex on her mind. Multi-talented, that’s my muhmis. Sometimes I think the weight of being Planetary Archon is heavy even on her. But she loves the challenges, and sure as hell met them last week.

"Auric for your thoughts, lover-girl…" Her leaf-green eyes look me over, wondering at my silence.

"Heck, they’re not worth that much, Gwen…" I laugh. "Just thinking about last week, and how you enjoyed the challenge, and won the whole damn pot. You’d be a hell of a poker player. I was kinda worried there, especially before lunch that day…"

"It was interesting… we’d become almost complacent, Erin, with our mastery, and these challenges are important reminders that there’re whole other universes to conquer, subdue to our will. The Draka will. That’s something I want to leave open for our children, and theirs, as well." She runs a hand through her bangs, and then reaches back, over her shoulder, and undoes her braid. "But there wasn’t any reason to worry, really, during the meeting. Once it began, and I knew who was solidly on my side, there wasn’t any other way it would come out. Not really. And I enjoyed, truly, the surprised look on Alexis’ face…"

"He’s dangerous, Muhmis."

"So am I, and he forgot about that, or discounted it. Perhaps he thought having my own planet would satisfy me…"

"It doesn’t?"

She looks at me, tilting her head slightly. "No. Not in the least. As I said, there are whole other universes to explore, to take under the Race’s wing. I don’t know that I’ll ever be satisfied, that way, my sweet young human."

I think for a minute, wrapping my arms around my knees. Finally, I look up into her face. "That’s sort of sad, in a way. You’re as much as prisoner of your needs and desires as any serf, that way. No disrespect, though…"

"None taken. That’s an intriguing point. Eric Von Shrakenberg wondered about that. You’ve read his works, haven’t you?"

I nod. "He was kinda depressing, and I didn’t agree with him all the time, but he was definitely interesting. Better than that other writer, what’s her name? The weird "will to power" woman…"

"Ah, Naldorssen. Yes, she’s a bit on the edge, so to speak, philosophically. Eric was much more realistic. But then I’ve noticed that about people who survive combat. They tend to have strong ideas but they also tend to be more focused on the real world. He was a decorated veteran, a damn brave man."

"Yeah, from y’all’s version of world war two. Papaw fought in our version, against the Nazis. He had a scar from shrapnel wounds. Mamaw said he’d have nightmares about it, real bad, when he first came home. He’d never really talk to me about it, but every once in a while…" I shiver. "I’ve been close enough to dying in a short, sharp, nasty way myself."

"I know, and that’s part of what makes your ideas more realistic. You fit that category, too. You’re a survivor, Erin. I value that."

"Sometimes…" My eyes darken, and the mountains seem to fade away, replaced by the grey mountainous side of the Nimitz, flame-wracked, tipping up and up into the night sky. "Sometimes..."

"What?" Gwen’s voice is gentle, probing.

I hug my knees tighter. "I don’t know… it’s like part of me died back then, that night with the Nimitz, in the water. In the dark, with all those others. I know, that’s goofy…"

"No. Not at all." Gwen holds my hand with one of hers, gently cupping my fingers. My hand’s swallowed in hers.

I look down at them, the human hand and the drakensis one, and then up at her eyes. "But do you know what I mean?"

Muhmis’ eyes sparkle for a moment. "Yes. I’ve had my taste of combat, in the kill-sweeps and biobombing… I lost friends, my innocence, maybe… I think I understand. For a long time, nothing else seemed real, or really important. I talked about it with my mother, Yolande, and she actually spoke with me about Mfwany, and losing her in the Indian Incident…"

"Did you ever want to meet your gene mother? Ever wonder what she was like, if you were close?"

"Yes, and yes. According to all her friends I spoke with, and mother, I was very much like her in many ways, and very different in others. Not to mention the species differences. Personality ones, more than anything. She was much more hot-tempered than I am, more impulsive. Somewhat inclined to be a tad sadistic, if anything. Very in love with my mother, but eventually, I think, she would have wanted to marry a male Draka, and have her own life. That would have broken my mother, I think, even more than losing Mfwany the way she did, actually." Gwen’s quiet for a moment, looking off toward the river.

"And your brood mother. You were close?"

"Very. Possibly closer to her than any other human, Erin, except you… I could relax with her, and talk with her, more than I could with Yolande. Yolande was quite high-ranking, and rather intimidating. Scared the hell out of me, mostly…" She grins.

"Huh."

"What?" Puzzlement crosses Muhmis’ face.

I remember Alexandra saying almost the exact same words to me one night, when we were walking down by the herbariums. "Um, well, you know how history repeats itself sometimes?"

"Hmm… no, but go on. I think this may be something I need to hear, right?"

"Kinda." I look at my hands, wondering how to put it. "Well, um, okay. Alexandra said almost exactly the same thing to me, about you. She loves you intensely, but she’s really frightened of you, Gwen. I wish that wasn’t exactly the way she felt about her mother."

"Hah… she said that, did she? Right she is, then. Part of that’s physiological. We’re designed differently than you are, Erin. But you know that, don’t you?" She reaches out with her free hand and squeezes my bare thigh, and my skin pales under the light tan. She lets go, and there’s a handprint left on my leg. Gwen leans over and kisses it, her lips hot on my leg. I shiver, partly with delight and partly with fright at her strength. "We’re different… but that doesn’t mean Draka are dinosaurs, either. Perhaps I need to talk with Alexandra, and Ariadne."

"I think you could have them respect you, do what you say, and still love you without fearing you quite so much. She was sort of shivery when she said it. I know Ariadne feels the same, too," I say, running a fingertip down her nose.

"You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?"

The question hangs in the air. How do I answer this, I wonder. I mean, you own me, Gwen… you could kill me at a whim… "Um, I… can I be really honest here, Gwen? Or do you really want to know?"

" ‘Do I really want to know?’ Of course, else I wouldn’t have asked… ah, I see what you mean. Yes, I want to hear what you think. Be honest with me, girl. That’s something I’ve told you from the first; it’s impossible to lie to me. I know you tensed immediately when I asked you what I did. You’re frightened right now."

"Yes." I stare into her eyes. "I am. I always am. I guess that’s how I’ve survived. There are times, Gwen, like earlier when you gave me this," I touch the necklace, "when I’m not afraid of you, but I’m always conscious, always aware, that you’re like a big bipedal tiger, and I’m lower on the food chain."

"Delicious, too."

I don’t laugh. Gwen’s smile fades. "That didn’t feel funny, Gwen. I’m serious."

"I was, too, but about taking you for pleasure, not for a meal."

My answering laugh’s mirthless. "Ever had a human burger?"

Gwen sits up. Her eyes look coolly into mine. "Do you really want to know?"

Shivers crawl down my spine, and the hairs stand up on my arms. My mind remembers tiger, and fear, and darkness… but what the hell, we’re being honest with each other, and I’m sincerely trying to understand this woman, this alien… "Yeah. Tell me."

Crossing her legs, Muhmis looks me over. I know she’s listening to my breathing, my heart. She can sense my emotions, and I wonder if she really will tell me what I strongly suspect…

"Yes. I’ve eaten human. Tastes like pork. It’s not something I’m terribly proud of, but I’m not ashamed, either. It happened back during my younger days, during the kill-sweeps."

Jesus. Jesus H. Christ. Cannibalism… well, not exactly. I swallow dryly, searching for words. Hell, humans have eaten humans, since before written history. Why so woozy? You wanted to know, whispers the tiny voice in the back of my mind. Now you know. "You did? Really? Or are you just messing with me?" My voice is a whisper.

"I did. Tore a human female apart; ate her heart, in front of her. In front of her troops, human irregulars from the hills. Not far from here, actually; more over in what used to be North Carolina. She watched me as she died." Gwen’s voice is cool, factual. "I roasted part of her, later. They’d destroyed our supply vehicle, so it was all we had."

I lurch to my feet, gagging. I walk away, hearing her sigh deeply, and don’t stop walking until I get to the river. I barf, savagely, until I’m empty and shaking. A few swigs of water, and a sassafras twig or two, and I feel better, physically. Not mentally. I just didn’t expect it, I guess. I know she’s ruthless, but that’s so… cold. Predatory. Inhuman? No. Be honest. The Donner Party, headhunters… hell. I don’t know what to think. A memory of Gwen on top of me, teeth white in the night, eyes glittering, and how she nipped my shoulder, making it bleed. She had licked it, with her long, slightly pointed tongue rasping on my skin, and I had squealed in mixed pleasure and pain… I gag, again, and chew the sassafras more rapidly. Jeezie petes… urg. Now, what does one say to one’s muhmis, when she’s told the eager questioner about some human… snacks… she’s enjoyed, hundreds of years ago in another universe…

I start to giggle, and end up sitting on the forest path, hysterically laughing my head off. Footsteps pad down toward me, and two strong arms pick me up. Gwen cradles me against her. "Sssaaa, little one, shhh, now… my sweet, I didn’t mean to upset you so, I thought you’d handle it… Erin, Erin… ssssaaa…"

My head rests against her neck, and suddenly, on some weird impulse, I nip her. Hard. Blood spurts hot into my mouth, and I hear her curse. She bats my head away, and looks down at me, hair bristling and a low snarl ratcheting in her throat. Blood, Draka blood, on my lips, I grin up at her. "The circle goes around and around, doesn’t it?"

"Race Spirit. Have you lost your…" Her voice trails off, and she looks more thoughtful. "Hah. Ha ha ha haha…" Leaf-green eyes stare down at me in a predator’s direct glare. Her laughing shakes both of us, and I wrap my arms around her neck, my legs around her waist. The nip on her neck has sealed itself off, and the only mark there now on the smooth tanned skin, taut against muscle and tendon, is a tiny pinkish blip. As I watch, it fades to match her tan.

Gwen jostles me a little, and I look up into her face. "Don’t bite me again. Honesty is fine, biting your owner isn’t. Understand? Or do you need a spanking to remember?"

"No. No spanking. Jeeze, Gwen, I’m sorry. I think… I went a little wacky there for a minute. I really don’t know why I nipped you," I answer, and lick my lips nervously. The taste on them is coppery, strong. It almost makes me barfish again. It’s certainly different from other tastes I’ve had from her, I think, and blush. "No spanking, please. The last one you gave me was bad enough."

"You rarely get them; haven’t had one for over three years now, as I recall." Gwen’s voice is dry, and she smiles at me. "But never say never. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes! Yes, Gwen, Muhmis…"

"Ah, you humans… you don’t ‘understand’ why you bit me? How can you do something without understanding why? I just don’t…" She rolls her eyes, expressively. I chuckle, and lean my head, slowly, against her neck.

"That’s us, Gwen, humans… you just have to live with us, I guess…"

"Not if I’m Felice Vashon, I don’t." I shiver, remembering the leonine Draka, and how she had looked at me like… like a side of meat. I swallow, huskily, and put my head down on my Muhmis’ broad shoulder.

Gwen walks us back to the cabin. Trees go by, and the path behind is barred with alternating patterns of shade and light. A few leaves flutter to the ground, and I see a kingfisher dart from a low branch down into the river and back up again, something silvery in its beak. I realize I still have some sassafras twigs in my grasp, and gnaw one. I offer one to Gwen, and she nods her head. I gently place it between her opened lips, and then gasp as strong jaws, and sharp teeth, close down on my fingers, holding them immobile.

"Gwen?"

"Mmmhh?"

"Please. I like those fingers, and you’ve expressed a certain appreciation for them, too. Think how sad Ally would be, if you returned me, fingerless…" I try to smile, but it comes out a bit lopsided.

"Mmmmh." She looks at me, eyes narrowing slightly. Her grip increases a tad, and I whimper. Then humor flashes across her mobile features, and she lets my hand loose. I snatch it back as she snaps down on the leaf stalk. "Tasty…"

"God, Muhmis…"

Her laughter floats ahead of us as we come out of the woods. She and I reach the cabin, and she sits down on the flagstone steps, me in her lap. "Erin, my Erin… what am I to do with you?"

"What you will." I look up at her, serious again. "You know that."

"Indeed. What I will," she says, looking down at me. She hugs me close, and I relax against her, feeling the smooth, increasing presence of her pheromones working on me. I’ve been around her long enough to know when she’s letting them work strongly on me, and I wonder why she’s working so hard to relax me.

A sudden twinge in my chest tells me. The pain, a sharp, squeezing feeling, forces a grunt out of me, and my left arm aches. Ow, I think. This isn’t any fun… is this her pheromones working on me? The rabbit-in-my-chest feeling that was there while I was getting sick is gone, but I feel… very tired now. "Gwen?"

"Ssshhhh… you’ll be all right. I want to calm you down, though. Your heart’s irregular right now, and much too fast. Breathe deeply for me, sweetlin’, and you’ll feel better, I promise. Come on, now, for Muhmis… breathe, Erin. That’s right. Good, deep breathing. Mmhhh, yes, that’s right…"

Her voice, and her pheromones, calm me down quickly, and I sit up, rubbing my arm. "Was that almost a heart attack, Muhmis? I’ve never had heart problems before…"

"No, but you have had occasional irregularities in your heartbeat. I’ve noticed them before. We’ll have Shawonda investigate when we return to the House, don’t worry. I don’t think it’s anything serious, right now. Feel better, now?"

"Yes. Hey, listen, I’m sorry, really… I mean, I asked, right? It just… it just conflicted with my idea of you, I guess. The you I have inside my head."

"Hmm."

"Oh, please, don’t be mad, Muhmis, or disappointed," I say, softly, my voice shaking. Tears rise to my eyes, and I wipe savagely at them.

Gwen catches my hands and holds them in one of hers. "I’m neither of those things, ma douce. Just, well, trying to think of a way for us to get back on neutral ground again."

"Let’s try again. Please?"

"Don’t you want to try again tomorrow, maybe? You need a rest, I think."

"No, please…" I shake my head. "This is important, Gwen, for the two of us. I feel that, and it’s now or never, I think… please?"

Muhmis sighs and nods. "What else would you like to know about me?"

"What’s your favorite kind of ice cream?"

"Chocolate."

We smile at each other, and it feels better between us. "Muhmis, I’m sorry. I know, I’ve said that already, but I mean it. Humans have been eating other humans for a hell of a long time, so why should it weird me out so much that you did something several hundred years ago in another universe?"

"Because you’re human, and you’re a survivor, and knowing what I’m capable of worries you. Because you’re afraid of me."

"Maybe it’s better to say I’m afraid of drakensis in general. I’m scared of you sometimes, but then there are other times, like right now, and earlier… I’m not. I like you then, so much…" My voice cracks, and I swallow hard. "Your note said, ‘with love, Gwendolyn’. You know I only call you that on certain occasions. And I know, too, you didn’t use that other word lightly."

"No, I didn’t. I meant it."

"But how did you mean it?"

"How?"

I stroke her face slowly. "Gwendolyn, my dear, dear, woman… okay, let me try to explain. It’s confusing enough, as it is. This is what Patrick and Alexa got all riled up about, and I sure as hell don’t want us having a hissy fit like they did."

Gwen laughs, softly. "Our hormones are better-behaved. Go on, darlin’…"

"When I say I love someone, it’s something special. Love isn’t a word I toss around, nor is the word ‘friend’. A friend implies a certain level of trust, of mutual likingness. I like you, a lot. And I trust you, even though I thought I might lose a finger or two back in the woods."

"Oh, you know I wouldn’t hurt you like that, my saafn… or do you?"

"Logically, I may have processed all your talks about being yours, and safe, and having your protection, and guidance… but emotionally, I reacted with fear. So some part of me isn’t sure, Muhmis, no matter what words we use." I shut my eyes, trying to think of how to say what I need to. "Muhmis… this is hard to say. But here goes: I like you as a friend, for the most part. I think you like me. We manage to communicate pretty well, for two different species, from different times. Different universes. Okay?"

"Yes, Erin, I understand. I agree."

"Love, to me, means total, unconditional acceptance. No matter what I did, you’d still love me, even if you were mad at me, or frustrated, or whatever. You might not like me, but you’d still love me. That’s the way I feel about Alice, and Patrick, and May. That’s also the way I feel about Alexandra and Ariadne, too. Even though they’re Draka. I love Jennifer, and Tom. I even love Yannan and Rosta. And Shawonda. I loved Peter, with all my heart. I wish…"

"What?"

"Hell, I wish I had been a guy, or he had been a girl. Then it would have been perfect between us. But that wasn’t the way it turned out, and he’s gone now. I miss him. But I love him. Gwen, I want to love you, but there’s something in the way…"

"There is? My former eating habits, perhaps?"

"No," I laugh. "Although that did make me lose my lovely trout lunch. Aw, hell, Gwen, it’s just that… how can you accept me and how can I accept you, when part of our relationship is based on you owning me? Owning me. That’s just so… against everything I was brought up to believe in, and I know you wish I could just slough off that old stuff, and be happy. But I can’t, no matter how much I enjoy being your saafn, being with you in bed, working for you. I’ve had a child for you… but even there, although you asked me, there wasn’t a damn thing I could have done to stop you if I had said no and you had said yes."

"I accept you for who you are. I enjoy you a great deal, more than any other human I’ve ever met. I’d never hurt you willingly, and I will never let any other Draka hurt you. But you do belong to me, and that feels right, very right, to me."

"I know. I accept you, on some levels, but that’s sort of the sticking point. Gwendolyn, I want to love you, I want… it would make things so much easier, so much better… oh, god, you’ve touched places in me no one else has ever seen, not even Alice, or Peter…" I sob, quietly, against her shoulder, cursing the lump in my throat that’s made the tears course down my face. "I want… I want to be yours, Muhmis, in so many ways…"

"Oh, Erin…" Gwen’s voice trembles slightly, and my eyes widen in surprise. "I want that, too, so much..."

**

I hold Erin, sigh, take a few deep breaths, let her recover… and myself. It isn’t often that someone of my species and my years gets this close to being overcome with emotion.

"Erin, sweetlin’…" I say. "This is difficult… I’ve felt very strongly – unusually strongly – for you for a long time, and it’s been getting more… pronounced. Several things I’ve done, political things, conflicts with Alexis… they’ve been primarily because of you."

Her eyes grow wide. I go on: "Having you mine made me rethink my position about keeping the human race here, Erin. Patrick would have been among the last humans born here, if it weren’t for you. And I’ve pushed through a change – here on Earth/2, at least – in the rejuvination policy, a policy that’s as old as the Final Society… largely because… I just wanted you around indefinitely."

"Oh," she says softly. "Oh, I didn’t realize… oh, Gwen."

"Well, I came up with other good reasons for those decisions – managed to convince myself," I say. "But those were the emotional reasons. I’m not used to being so vulnerable," I go on, sitting up and putting my arms around my knees. "It’s… uncomfortable for a drakensis. Extremely."

"Vulnerable?" she says. "To what?"

"You," I say. "I don’t just enjoy your affection, it would hurt me emotionally to lose it. Your happiness is important to me." I sigh again. "I just couldn’t face the thought of letting you die, even centuries from now, if it was in my power to prevent."

She leans closer, putting her head against my shoulder. "That’s… a big concession, Gwen."

I nod. "Oh, Erin, you don’t know the half of it. From a Draka point of view, it’s virtually a perversion. I worry about it; if we could get mentally ill, I’d worry about that being the reason – fortunately, we can’t. If it got out, though, it could seriously damage my position." After a pause: "You know, Erin, this relationship is complicated."

She bursts out laughing, and I join her. "We’re certainly getting into this honesty thing," she says after a while.

"Mmmm-hmmm. Now let’s put it to work on the other side," I say, growing serious again. "This conference… I do accept you, Erin; in fact, I’ve changed in rather difficult ways because of it. The question is, do you accept me? I can’t change everything about myself; I can’t be a human. My need to… own you… is part of me and my feelings towards you – not the whole thing, but a very important, integral part of it—is coded into my very being – and those feelings are so strong they frighten me a little." I frown, then go on:

"From inside –" I touch my chest "—it feels warm… loving, I think I could say. When you respond to it in the way I need, I feel so… satisfied. Completed. So close to you. And when you’re frightened and pull back from that… commitment, it’s frustrating."

**

I lean on the fence and watch Chiron galloping. May’s on his back, and Patrick’s running hell-for-leather towards him, kicking at a football. He dives for it, right under Chiron’s hooves, and rolls away behind him waving it triumphantly in the air. The centaur whirls, his front legs coming off the ground, with May squealing and holding on by the straps of the leather harness across his shoulders; Alexa is jumping up and down behind him:

"Throw!" she shouts. "Throw!"

Pat does, a long low arc – he does that really well for a human, I think – but Chiron jumps like deer, and May grabs it out of the air. Alexa howls and closes in, but Chiron’s running for the end of the field with clods of turf flying from his hooves, and Pat trying to get close enough to tag him –

"Oi, that looks far too energetic for this early in the morning," Jennifer says, wiping her forehead with the palm of a hand. It’s hot, and even standing leaning on the fence I’m running with sweat myself. Hot, clear but sort of hazy, muggy, the bugs are loud in the tall grass along the fence and in the buckeyes and oaks. A bunch of saafn are pitching hay across the lane behind us, and I can smell their effort. A hawk’s circling above us; I focus my eyes and watch the way his feathers spread at the ends of his wings, like fingers. But they’re always turning, adjusting in tiny little movements as he flies…

Tannie Jenny’s still limping a little; she pulled a muscle, serving Mom and that oooger-chill Felice Vashon. It’s a bit gronky to think of having her as a relative. Nice to have another sister, though – and I’ll be the big sister for this one! Jenny wandered around a little stunned for the first couple of days, until after Mom and Tantie-Ma Erin left for their holiday, but she’s feeling a lot better now.

I lean over and take Tannie Jenny’s scent, a deep breath with my mouth a little open. Yup, I think. She’s brooding all right.

"Hey!" Jenny laughs and hugs me with an arm around the shoulders. "I’m not showering enough for you, missy?"

"No, I –" then I laugh and slap her shoulder. "You’re teasing me again."

"Have I ever stopped?" Her grin fades a bit. "Do I smell different already?"

"A bit, Tannie Jenny," I say. "Just an… I don’t know how to say it. Sort of like… fresh bread and flowers. Really good. I mean, you always smell good." Sort of sexy, too, sometimes, but I ignore that – she’s Tannie Jenny, after all, I mean, you have to have standards and not just be a serf to your hormones. "But now you smell even better now. I could just close my eyes and, umm, yeah, bask in it."

"I’m starting to feel very good, too," she smiles, touching her stomach. "Erin and Alice and Josie from Rohm Manor all gave me the low-down about it back when Muhmis told me I was a candidate, but that’s not the same thing as feeling it."

She looks down at me, and I hug her back. I’m glad that she’s feeling nice; I’ve always liked Tannie Jenny, far back as I can remember. Even if she did help teach me my maths!

"I wish I could know what it’s like to smell the world the way you do," she says, a bit wistful. "Like having another sense."

"Well –" Link up, I say. She closes her eyes and does it. Let’s see if I can…

I concentrate on what I’m scenting now – grass, warm painted wood from the fence, the wet-fresh scent of the creek a thousand yards away, and the mealy, silty smell of the reedbanks along it. Horses, deer, mice, rabbits, birds, snakes. Alexa’s scent, sharp and clear-cut, like a glow of crimson against the background. May’s, sweet and human-musky; Pat’s, equally familiar; her own, sweat and body-odors and the lovely way she’s starting to scent…

"Whoah! Too much already!" she laughs, swaying a little, and I break the link. "It’s like that all the time for you?"

"Well, yeah, mostly," I say. "I can shut it down, but it’s like… like being blind. Sometimes you have to, like if you had to look at the sun you’d squint," I go on. Then: "Tannie Jenny? Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, little missy," she says, looking over at me a bit curiously. I pull a grass stem and chew it, something I learned from Tantie-Ma. The wood of the fence is smooth and silky under my forearms.

"Ummm… I’ve been thinking, lately. You know, about humans and Draka and stuff."

I squint at the meadow; Alexa jumps right over Chiron’s back, snatching the ball out of May’s hands along the way, but she lands on Pat and they both go down in a heap. Chiron kicks the ball right out of their scrambling hands and up into the air, and then May catches it again.

"What about it?" she asks me. That’s another reason I like her. Even when I was a little kid, she always took my questions seriously.

"I know a lot of humans don’t like having us here, being ours, serving us," I say. "Even some of the saafn here on the plantation, and a lot in other places. But… I mean, Pat gets mad at being Alexa’s sometimes. Tantie Ma Erin, even, I think, sometimes she doesn’t like being Mom’s. But Alice and Tom, they never do… what about you?"

She sighs. "That’s a difficult question, Ari," she says. "It’s been good and bad. I was very frightened of Muhmis… your mother, at first, when I found out what she was."

"Yeah, Mom can be plenty scary," I agree. She laughs a little.

"Oh, little missy, you have no idea. But then I decided, since this has to be my life – if I’m going to be alive at all – I might as well make the best of it. There’s a lot of good things about being your Mom’s saafn, so yes, I’m pretty happy here, most of the time. And I have my work, and very good friends here, I have you and Alexa, and pretty soon I’m going to be having your sister."

"That’s sort of mixed up," I say.

"So’s life," she chuckles when I snort. "I’m from a long line of hairsplitters and arguers."

The others are getting up, dabbing at the mud, coming over towards the fence. May slides down off Chiron’s back and I lift her over the fence. She smells so good, even smelling of sweat and the centaur; I growl a little as I set her down. It still feels a little odd to do that, and she grins and gets flushed and giggles, and I do, too. Pat looks away for a second; he’s a bit odd about May and me sometimes.

May likes being mine, I think. Of course, it’s different with her and me. We’ve been together forever; we’re buds. We don’t do much of this kneeling and your-will stuff when we’re together. I like that with Hans and Berte, it’s sort of grown-up and exciting, but the only time May tried it we both broke up completely.

"Let’s go for a swim down at the creek," I say.

"You go ahead," Tannie Jenny says. "I’m going back up to the House and use the pool, like a civilized, grown-up person."

We groan at her and troop off down towards the willows.

**