Chapter 5 #2
“I conjured it,” Niran explained. “We receive sexual energy from Ransom’s tribe, and in return, we gift them with material possessions. There is a catch, though. The items we conjure last as long as the user requires them. Once the need ceases, the magic dissolves the gifts.”
“What if an enemy got hold of you?” Ellard asked, his military mind working differently to hers.
“We starve without sexual energy,” Niran said. “We continue to exist, but no one can see us, and we can’t communicate easily or use our powers.”
“You become ghosts?” Gweneth asked.
Niran frowned. “Ah,” he said, his expression clearing. “I understand ghosts now that you have ceased to block me. Yes, a little like ghosts. Now, I want each of you to imagine the room furnished to your specifications.” He stared at them expectantly, then barked out a laugh.
“This is Ellard’s vision.” Niran waved his hand with a flourish.
Gweneth stared at the austere furnishings and realized he’d imagined his room at the castle. She’d peeked inside one day when he and Jarlath were sparring with the other feline males. The sturdy metallic bars, however, were telling.
“You hate me that much?” she demanded. “So much you want to keep me incarcerated?” She took satisfaction from the tinge of red that crept into his cheeks.
Was she wasting her cycles? Maybe she should grit her teeth through the rest of this visit, return to Viros and retire to her room with the food that closest resembled Earth ice cream.
Olivia had told her Earth women did this after disappointment in love.
“What would you suggest?” Niran asked. “Whatever you choose will remain for as long as you require the item. Once you are no longer in need, the things we conjure disappear. That works for food, drink, clothing, or any other object.”
The kindness in his expression tightened her chest, and she had to swallow twice before she attempted to speak.
Part of her wanted to suggest to Niran that she would like a sumptuous bed—large, of course—since Ellard took up a lot of space.
Storage units and a clothing replicator.
A decadent bathing area. A bath. Candles.
Perfumed cleansing tabs. A maid to wash her hair and help her dress.
Pretty clothes. She drew a deep breath. No!
She was smarter than that. Besides, Ellard would expect her to push her agenda.
“Are you ready?” Niran prompted.
“Almost.” She slid a quick glance in Ellard’s direction and intercepted a scowl.
Blast the man with an explosive. She had no idea why her feline insisted on this grumpy cat.
After her initial surprise and rush of hormones during their first meeting, she’d tried to keep her distance.
That had worked for all of two mins. Something inside her compelled her to check on him, to speak with him, and generally annoy him until he noticed her in return.
Blatant hadn’t worked, so she needed to tamp down on the urgent instincts coursing through her mind and use subtle. She’d step away—apart from the kiss. She didn’t intend to forgo her kiss because a bet was a bet. A point of pride.
“I’m ready,” she said.
Niran smiled in the way Jannike and Camryn smiled at her if she’d done a good job. As she watched, Ellard’s room vanished, and a new one appeared in its place.
“Well?” she demanded of Ellard once he’d surveyed the suite of rooms she’d imagined.
“I’ll take the room in here,” Ellard said, after checking both rooms from the doorways.
“The bathing facilities are between our rooms,” Gweneth said. “There are locks on the doors, so neither of us need to fear a disturbance.”
Ellard dipped his head in a decisive nod. “Are our bags here yet?”
“They’re not necessary.” Niran offered another of his approving smiles. “I took the liberty of stocking the clothing replicators. You’ll find everything you require within your rooms.”
“I’ll use the sanitizer first.” Ellard disappeared into his room, closing the door behind him with a click.
“Well done, child,” Niran said. “You’ve made your move, made him aware of you. Backing off to give him time to process is a good plan.”
Her chin jerked upward, but she left the mental barrier in her mind down as she regarded him. “I will be claiming my daily kiss.”
A delighted chuckle burst from him. “I think that is fair. After all, a bet is a bet.”
“Exactly.” Gweneth stepped into her suite room, the musical sound of his laughter still ringing in her ears as she closed the door.
The business center of Narenda was much smaller than that of Viros. It consisted of a main cobblestone street, a central market square with cover from the constant heat and a series of small specialist shops lining the street.
Gweneth’s heart sank. First impressions didn’t bode well.
The shops were so small. What could they sell that would appeal to festival visitors?
Her hand tightened on her compad, disappointment a sour taste on her tongue.
But, mindful of her duties, she went through the motions and used her compad to record the sights.
“Ransom, do I have permission to take depictions of the shops, the market area, and the goods on sale?”
He radiated approval. “Thank you for asking. General shots are fine. Please check with each store owner, though.”
“Of course. Can I take a group shot of us in the marketplace? I would like to send it with my daily report.” Top marks today, scoring endorsement from everyone except the man she desired.
“I will see your report before you send it,” Ransom ordered.
“Of course you can,” Gweneth said. “I understand the need for security. King Lynx suggested I discuss my report with you before I sent it to him. He wants allies as his neighbors rather than enemies.”
“I think a depiction over there would work well,” Ransom said.
Before she could blink, he had everyone arranged in a grouping in front of a decorative pond surrounded by red-and-white plants.
Gweneth set the timer for the remote and her compad floated from her hands to a position in front of them.
Secs later, a distinct click and whirr sounded then the compad returned to her.
“It is perfect. Now the shops. I would like to purchase a pretty outfit to take home to Viros. Sable, where would you suggest?”
Sable froze—a sort of a cat-spots-prey kind of freeze. “I…I…people stare,” she finished miserably.
A whoosh of sympathy struck Gweneth. She knew how it felt to have people stare at her, how it felt to be invisible in a crowd and to feel small and insignificant. She’d experienced rejection. She tucked her compad in the satchel she’d discovered in her room and stalked over to Sable.
“Not today.” She took Sable’s Stores arm. “I think we both deserve a new outfit. What do you think?”
“I d-don’t have any credits,” Sable whispered.
“I have plenty of credits,” Ransom offered into the resulting silence.
Gweneth glanced at each of the three men. Wow! Niran, Ransom, and even Ellard were looking at her in approval. A cause for celebration.
“Should we start at the beginning of this side of the street? If we don’t finish, we can visit the other traders on the morrow.”
Ellard groaned. “Can’t we go quicker than that?”
“This is business,” Gweneth chided, although she winked at Sable. “Here, you take charge of my compad. Lynx wants notes of the goods that the traders would be willing to bring to the festival. We’ll need depictions too.” She handed over her compad.
Ellard stared at her. “I can’t, not with my hand.”
“Of course you can,” she said. “Ransom will help.”
Gweneth headed to the first shop and entered, scanning the contents with growing approval.
Better than she’d hoped. Much better. Colors—every one of the color palette—filled shelves.
Scarves and everything a woman would want to groom or wear in her hair.
When she couldn’t hear Sable following her, she turned and gestured for her to hurry.
“Come and tell me if I’m imagining things. The colors. They’re gorgeous.”
Sable entered, her footsteps dragging. She reminded Gweneth of a timid mouse.
“Look.” Gweneth decided to take charge. “This scarf is the exact shade as your eyes. Such a gorgeous mixture of blue and green. And this…” She plucked a jeweled comb from a shelf and held it against Sable’s long black hair. “This would be perfect in your hair.”
“I have no experience with combs and such.”
“I do,” Gweneth said. “I’ll show you, and you can wear it for dinner. Ellard, we need a depiction.”
An elderly woman—a dragon, judging by her thin golden eyes—bustled through a doorway. She hesitated on seeing Ransom. “Chieftain Ransom.”
“We are here to do some shopping,” he said. “The ladies have taken a liking to some of your goods. This is Ellard Tetsu and Gweneth Swithin from Viros.” He explained their mission and obtained an agreement for Ellard to take depictions along with relevant information about her goods.
They ambled along the street, the number of packages that Niran and Ransom carried steadily growing.
“This is one of our shops.” Niran took Gweneth’s arm and guided her to an unimposing building. “We take great pride in setting up a business since we had to learn new skills in order to produce stock for our shop.”
Gweneth stared at the lackluster window display and tried to think of an encouraging response. “It’s very clean,” she said finally.
Ransom chuckled. “There, Niran. I told you your people needed a better display to attract customers.”
“We want intelligent customers and have built up a loyal following. You forget, my friend, we do not require money or material possessions. This enterprise is a way for our people to fit in to the world of other races.”
Gweneth took a deep breath to center her mind since she thought her tact might get a workout in this instance. “What do you sell?”
“Ladies’ apparel,” Niran said.
“I don’t require any clothes,” Sable said. “I’ll stay outside with Ellard.”