Disclaimer: Oh, you know.
Thanks to all of you for hanging in. Special thanks goes to TK Styles, who saved my bacon by supplying plausible words to ethrull call to arms. Thanks also to Carrie and Loog for beta'ing and for providing me with girl power inspiration. To Rach for putting up with me and helping me make sense, more or less. If it doesn't, it's 'cause I don't listen to her when I should. To ScarletDeva, just 'cause she's a smoochy. And to Dagmar, for not killing me yet. Go read their stuff too.
Okay, this is fantastically long, at least by my standards, but I didn't want to break it up.
Legacy, part 28
A makeshift arena had been carved out of the yellow sand of the Xeryan desert immediately outside the docking bay. Raised banks of benches curved around a rough oval shape; long poles held aloft a huge length of lightweight fabric, tentlike, softening the unforgiving glare of the afternoon sun. At each end was a dais that loomed above the rows of benches, similarly shielded from the sun by white curtains.
Adam jogged along the side of the arena, his dark eyes scanning the crowd for his wife. A white flutter from the end of the arena caught his attention, and he squinted for a better look, smiling as he recognized some familiar faces. He ran lightly to the bottom of the structure. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Adam called up to the dais where his friends sat. "Hey!"
Jason leaned forward to look over the edge at him, eyebrows raised. "What's up?"
"Anybody seen Tanya?"
Kat's blond head appeared next to Jason's. "Last we saw she was chatting with a girl named Keely."
Taia leaned over next, laughing, her ebony braid spilling over the white- curtained side of the dais. "She'll be along, Adam, don't worry. Please, come up before we all fall out!"
He joined them gladly, shaking hands with the guys, hugging the girls. "Hi, everyone. Or, not quite everyone. Where are Rocky and Zack? And Tom, and Aji?"
They looked at each other, shrugging. "Tommy said he had something to check out before the celebration," Kim volunteered. "He ought to be along any minute, though. I know he wouldn't want to miss this."
"As for Aji, she is helping Medja. You'll see her before too much longer," Taia added with a grin.
Kat was looking out over the arena. "There's Rocky," she said suddenly, pointing to the far end. "And Zack." A group was gathering under the opposite dais, each carrying cylindrical objects of varying sizes.
"Drums," said Trini abruptly. "That's what they are, drums." They watched with interest as more Xeryans joined the group and began setting up what were clearly musical instruments. Rocky pulled out a pair of long sticks from the side of the drum he'd been carrying and began twirling them in his fingers as he chatted with some of the others, sparing a wave for Kat, who waved back with a warm smile.
"Looks like Rocky's flashing back to high school, when we had that garage band for a while," said Adam with a chuckle.
Jason nodded, laughing. "I think everybody must go through that. We did, for about ten seconds, but Zack was the only one who could play anything."
Kim smacked him. "Hey!"
He rolled his eyes. "The only one who could play anything who also wanted to be in the band. You were at the mall." She chuckled and stuck out her tongue.
Billy leaned forward. "Here comes Dad."
Moments later Peter joined them on the dais, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "I am so looking forward to this. I haven't been to one of these in over twenty years." He patted Taia on the shoulder. "Iannos asked me to tell you that he would be a little late, and that we should begin the ethrull desyerti without him."
Taia looked at him doubtfully. "He did?"
Jason looked from one to the other. "Is there something wrong?"
"No," his sister said slowly. "I suppose not." She glanced back at Peter. "You begin it, then. Sestur will signal us when he is ready."
He grinned hugely. "Me? Really?" At her nod, he stepped forward. "All right, I will." He leaned forward, his hands clasped around the railing of the dais, his blue eyes locked on a tallish, heavyset man at the far end of the arena.
Billy looped his arm around his love's slim waist. "Tell them what you were telling me about the ethrull desyerti and what it's all about."
Taia nodded as the others looked toward her expectantly. "Since the first of us defied So'Vran, so many centuries ago, we have tried to gather before each battle, to remember what it is that we fight for, to remember those we have loved who have died in that fight, to celebrate those who will fall."
Trini nodded. "That's what you said in the canteen. So what's involved, exactly?"
Tai smiled. "This first ceremony recalls the skills of the warriors of old, those who first opposed So'Vran's cruel tyranny. Most Xeryans train in the ethrull desyerti to some degree, though there are only a notable few who gain mastery of it." She nodded toward the sandy arena floor. "It begins with the call to battle, a great honor for those who are chosen to cry the warriors to arms. Then come the masked warriors, clad as of old, each demonstrating his or her skill with the traditional weapons of the ethrull. They will drop out, class by class, until only the most skilled are left, and then comes melee." Her dark eyes lit up. "It's most thrilling to watch. Xeryan tradition is that to kill anonymously is the act of a coward; therefore the final warriors remove their masks and fight each other until a single combatant remains, and he or she rules the rest of the celebration, with everyone subject to his whim."
"Wait, there's a fight to the death?" Adam was horrified; Taia laughed.
"No, of course not. Who would be left to fight So'Vran? It is merely symbolic."
Kim grinned widely. "Cool, it's like Roman gladiators or something."
Peter looked back at them excitedly. "There's the signal. Are we ready?"
Adam scanned the arena a final time anxiously: no Tanya. He looked at Kim, who was doing much the same thing with a similar result, and shrugged. She sighed, shrugging back. "I guess so," he said finally. "They'll be sorry they missed it, though." For some reason Taia giggled, but Adam's attention was diverted as Peter raised his hand aloft, and then swung it down to the sound of a gong echoing across the arena.
The drums began.
The beat was loud, mesmerizing, hypnotic, crawling under Adam's skin. He could see Rocky waiting, getting the beat, his head nodding as he took the measure of the rhythm, and then he and Zack joined in, grinning and laughing like maniacs as they stood behind the large drums. It was almost a Latin-style beat, Adam mused, trying to pin it down. Or African, maybe. Either way it had that world music flavor to it. He tapped his slim fingers on the rail of the dais, enjoying the sound as the bank of drums played point and counterpoint in a complex, melodic structure. Looking around he was tickled to see that his friends were similarly affected as they variously nodded, tapped feet or swayed back and forth in time to the exotic rhythm. Even serious Billy was grooving slightly. Adam chuckled to himself.
Taia nudged him, and pointed into the arena, where two feminine figures had entered hand in hand.
They wore loose, flowing white pants that were split up the sides nearly to the waist; the top was not much more than a strategically wrapped strip of fabric that crossed in front, leaving the back almost completely bare. One of the women was pale, blonde; but Adam needed neither Kat's shriek of recognition nor Rocky's shouted "Yeah baby!" to see that the other was his Tanya, her smile wide, her face aglow. He whistled and cheered, stomping his feet for all he was worth, and he wasn't the only one. The dais rocked under the Rangers' enthusiasm. Tanya glanced up, opened her smiling mouth, and she and Keely began the cry to arms.
Not words, just melody, haunting harmony, their voices rich and full, twining about each other and reaching for each listener. Then the Xeryans around them answered, Taia and Peter included, chanting low in a minor key that chilled and exhilarated. Taia was leaning forward, her fist in the air, pumping to the rhythm; Peter was moving to the beat as well, clapping in time as the chant grew. In the crowd, people climbed onto the rear benches, craning their necks over the excited throng. Children were lifted high onto shoulders for a better view. Hands waved in the air as the atmosphere became saturated in anticipation. The singers took up the canticle and their voices soared over the low chant of the crowd, and Adam could feel the small hairs on the back of his neck start to rise. It was thrilling, and exciting, and somehow deeply moving. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to vault over the side of the dais and do something fantastically passionate (and usually private) to Tanya, or go rip something's heart out in her honor. He felt his cheeks start to burn at the surprising thought; Adam glanced quickly at his friends to see if they'd noticed his blush, but they were riveted on the scene below.
With a wave the singers ran from the arena, reappearing moments later on the dais opposite the Rangers; Tanya blew her husband a kiss, and Adam waved excitedly. The song began anew as the ethrull warriors marched into the arena, their bare feet hitting the sand in perfect time to the sinuous drumbeat.
You really couldn't tell them apart, aside from gender, Adam realized. He'd expected to recognize one or two, but no. Sure, there were minor differences in height, or girth, or skin color. The male warriors were bare- chested for the most part, and wore pants of leather or something like it, which were snugly laced up the sides of their legs. On their forearms they wore braces of a similar material. The females wore the same, with the addition of a strip of the leatherlike material looped around their necks, crossed over their bosom and around the back, and tied at the waist, similar to Tanya's current garb. But what so completely obscured their individuality were the masks they wore. Snug to the head and all- enveloping, with mere slits for eyes and mouth, they obliterated all clues to hair color, eye color, face shape, anything. The effect was disconcerting, especially as they began the ritual of the ethrull.
The eerie sound of strings, played low and haunting, joined the stately beat of the drums as the dance began. And it was a dance, mused Adam as he watched. Each warrior moved with precision, every move identical, down to the flick of a wrist or the arch of a foot. Like a kata, you could discern defensive move from offensive, one after the other, but so fluid and graceful that it was one with the music. Like yoga, a bit, he thought, or tai chi; then he completely gave up trying to pigeonhole what he saw in terms he was familiar with. The ethrull desyerti wasn't exactly like anything he'd ever seen.
The beat shifted, gathering momentum, and some of the warriors left the floor, pulling their masks free as they left the arena. Adam was jolted a bit to see that some of them were no more than teenagers, if that, laughing and greeting their friends, joining in the Xeryan chant that grew as the ethrull picked up pace. The moves grew more complicated. More warriors dropped out, joining the chanting throng. The atmosphere became electric, a sense of tension in the air as the ethrull desyerti thinned to the ranks of the finest, and then there were only five, spread across the arena, the movement of their anonymous bodies precise, spare, surgical, elegant. Figures ran briefly to the sides of the arena, planting weapons within reach: a sword here, a javelin-like staff there. A pair of curved blades. Something like a trident. A pair of long-handled clubs, each tipped with a deadly looking heavy ball.
The warriors broke the dance, each taking a place beside a weapon.
"It is melee," whispered Taia to the riveted Rangers.
Adam glanced from one to the next. "How do they choose their weapon?"
Taia smiled. "The best ethrull must be equally proficient in all forms of ancient combat. They will begin with hand-to-hand in any case. Whom do you favor?"
Adam looked them over again. Two were women, one small and lithe, one taller, more muscular. Two of the men were slim yet well built, wide shouldered and slim waisted. The last man was big, brawny, his chest broad, his arms heavily roped with muscles, his thighs like tree trunks, straining the leatherlike material that encased them. "I don't know. Do I have to choose? How can you stand not knowing who they are?"
She chuckled. "I don't know all of their identities for certain, but I confess I have my favorites. Cheer them all on, if you like."
The hand-to-hand began.
This was nothing like the elegant grace of the ethrull dance. This was combat, pure and simple, and it quickly became clear how it was that the Xeryan rebellion had lasted for a thousand years even against so fearsome an opponent as So'Vran. The ethrull desyerti produced warriors of stunning caliber. For each lightning fast strike came a counterstrike; block, spin, parry low, parry high, leap…
Adam's breath caught in his throat as one of the younger men threw himself into the air, somersaulting over their heads, landing a blow to the bigger man's shoulders from midair before landing and rolling to his feet, fists at the ready. The smaller woman had been watching him; she met him as he came up, grasping his forearms in her hands and sliding to the ground suddenly, pulling him off balance and flipping him neatly, winding him as he landed hard in the sand.
"Nice," said Jason approvingly. Adam nodded, unwilling to look away. He didn't want to miss anything.
The other two men and the taller woman had faced off. She held her ground easily against her two opponents, blocking a pair of blows and snapping her fists forward and one leg to the side to temporarily put them in the sand. The bigger man grasped the younger one and threw him bodily at the woman; she dodged and grabbed him by an arm and a leg as he went by, spinning them both around and throwing him back at the man on the ground. He caught the unwitting weapon, his huge chest heaving in what looked suspiciously like laughter. Taia chuckled, confirming to Adam that the ethrull elite were just playing.
Tanya and her partner began to sing again, and this time Adam could pick out words. "… Darkness surrounds us yet we will press on… the fate of all we love is in our hands… let darkness beware… the only fate we shall accept is Victory!" At this last the beat went wild. The ethrull answered with a yell, jerking their masks from their heads and running flat out for their weapons.
The first to pull her mask free was flame haired Aji, sparing a quick glance, a grin, and a two-fingered wave for astounded Jason, who now had a white-knuckled death grip on the dais railing. Next was Deorth, whose gray eyes scanned the dais closely, focusing on a single spot. Adam looked back at his friends to see who the blond soldier was looking for, and got his answer when he saw the blood drain from Trini's otherwise composed face.
The taller woman pulled her mask free, and Adam recognized her as the nice lady who made the food in the canteen; Medja, he thought her name was. He made a mental note along the lines of judging by appearances, and watched in fascination as the brawny man tugged his mask off, causing Jason to have a second coronary and Taia to nearly tumble out of the booth, only narrowly caught by Billy. It was Iannos, grinning ear to ear, red-faced and looking a little surprised as well. Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "He'll be eaten alive out there," the scientist murmured. "He hasn't done this in decades, not since he took on Paladin. It's impressive he got this far, though."
The last ethrull to reveal himself brought the Rangers to their feet as one, for there was the missing Tommy, laughing aloud at their expressions. "Where did he learn to do this? And when?" Kim asked nobody in particular, though it was Adam himself who answered her.
"Probably from Aji," he said. "She's said they share emotions, maybe they share knowledge, too."
"That would make sense," agreed Taia. "Aji is very skilled. You'll see."
And yet it was Aji, handling the twin curved blades, who went out first, as Deorth slipped below her defenses with a blow from his staff, sending her reeling back and down. She rolled back to her feet, but he had the advantage and held to it doggedly, forcing her back. She pushed back, but it wasn't enough. Deorth deflected her attack easily, her blades ringing as they bounced off his staff. He spun and went low, sweeping her feet out, planting the staff deep into the sand and using the leverage to double-kick her arms wide, disarming her, and with a grin, she conceded. He pulled her to her feet and planted a kiss on her cheek before turning back to the fray.
Iannos was next to go, as Medja caught his sword in between her long- handled clubs and tore it from his grasp with a fierce twist. She spun the clubs, never quite connecting with his rapidly retreating torso, but made it clear that she could take him easily if she wanted to. Iannos held up both hands in rueful defeat, earning an approving nod from his foe.
Tommy too was outmatched, though he held his own for a while in a breathtaking mix of Xeryan ethrull tactics and his own extensive martial arts skills. However, it soon became clear that, dazzling though it was, Tommy was merely dodging his opponents' attacks rather than initiating any of his own with the odd-looking trident. It also became clear that he was tiring, and he willingly conceded when given the chance, to tumultuous applause and a respectful bow from Medja.
"She is quite impressed with Tommy, and that means a lot," Taia filled the others in. "Medja is an ethrull master; she rarely competes, and has never lost. But Deorth has studied at his mother's side since he was a tiny child. This last combat should be interesting."
The drums, the song, the chant, everything stopped but the soft breeze that moved the white sides of the tent. Medja smiled at her son and cast aside the heavy clubs, crossing to pick up the sword that Iannos had dropped. Deorth tossed the javelin away and it landed with a soft chunk in the sand as he picked up the twin blades he'd taken from Aji. Medja held the sword aloft, then over her head, pointed at her adversary, her free hand outstretched toward him, her body in a crouch. Deorth rotated his wrists, swinging first one blade and then the other in a tight circle. As the blades came en garde, just slightly crossed and in front of him, his body tensed in preparation. Medja spoke into the silence.
"You are my son." She inclined her head, her expression affectionate. Then she bared her teeth. "But I will give no quarter."
Deorth laughed, a cocky grin spreading on his handsome face. "I ask for none." With that, he lunged forward. He slashed down with the left blade, letting his momentum take him into a potentially lethal spin to then lash out with his right blade, driving a surprised Medja back a step.
Adam heard a low whistle from behind him, and glanced around. Kat was fanning her face, shaking her head with a rueful smile. Trini had a hand over her throat as though she was having trouble swallowing, and Kim had a broad cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on her face. "What?" he asked involuntarily, curious against his will.
"Wow, is he HOT!" said Kim gleefully. "That was – woo hoo! Anybody got some cold water?"
"I knew I didn't want to know," muttered Adam to himself, returning to the combat.
The moment when Medja realized she had no need to hold back was probably the high point of the fight, Adam thought later. Initially, she stayed defensive, allowing Deorth to manipulate her position with ease while she assessed his strengths and weaknesses. And then, like a volcano erupting, Medja burst forth with a yell. The muscles of her back bunched and slid powerfully as she swung the heavy sword in a low arc. Deorth leapt up and back, twisting his body heels over head to land facing her, laughing again. He spun his blades around him, a silver blur, and Adam realized that the son held as many surprises as his mother.
Deorth went high, scissoring the blades; Medja rolled to the ground neatly, bowling her son's feet from under him. She was up first and on the attack, her heavy blade forcing him back as she swung and swung again, her gritted teeth white against her sand-dirtied face. Deorth's good-natured grin had given way to a frown of concentration as Medja pressed forward, blond braid swinging snakelike behind her, the rhythmic clang of metal on metal hypnotically intense.
Adam found himself smashed against the dais railing as Trini pressed forward, her dark eyes intent, her knuckles against her teeth. She gripped the rail with her free hand, nudging Adam aside. "No," she whispered. "Don't concede."
On the arena floor Deorth jerked his head toward the dais in surprise, but his attention was quickly brought back to the situation at hand as Medja's sword hit the sand where he'd been standing a second ago. Adam's attention, on the other hand, was evenly divided now, ping-ponging between the fray below and the generally-reserved Red Zeo Ranger, who was biting her lip as she focused on the scene below.
"Wait, find her rhythm… be patient," she whispered. Adam glanced down at the arena.
Deorth stepped back, and again, and his mother's blade swung nearer, a deadly pendulum. He parried, and parried again, blocked, and blocked again; leapt, and rolled, parried, and blocked, and…
"NOW!" Trini's whisper was harsh, urgent.
On the floor Deorth came alive, one powerful blow blocking Medja's swing while he suddenly twisted his body into the frame of her defense, body- checking her hard to the ground. A seasoned warrior, Medja rolled over and was on her feet in seconds, but Deorth was on the move. She swung to block him, but too wide, and his foot came out in a stunning kick that knocked the weapon from her hand in a glittering arc through the air. Medja did an instinctive back flip but again her son was ahead of her, his lithe form soaring past her to meet her as she landed, his blades crossed at her throat. She froze.
And conceded.
The blades dropped to the ground as Deorth grasped his mother in a bear hug, planting a resounding kiss on her laughing face. The Xeryan crowd erupted, the drums wild. Rocky and Zack were dancing around like maniacs behind their instruments. The dais shook as eight pairs of feet vied to be the first to the ground, Trini winning by a narrow margin.
Adam ran eagerly past her onto the floor of the arena, now crowded with well-wishers, his dark eyes on the alert for a flutter of white or the burnished sheen of chocolate skin; and there was Tanya running toward him, her arms outflung. He grasped her around the waist and lifted her high. "God, honey, you were great! That was abso-frickin-lutely fantastic! Why didn't you tell me?"
She slid to the ground along the length of his body, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Wanted to surprise you," and she kissed him, hard and long. He thrust his fingers into her braids, holding her still for better kiss-access.
"I was surprised as hell," he admitted after he'd surfaced for air.
"Lord," Tanya panted, "was that not intense?"
"Unbelievable," he agreed. "More so where I was. Did you know Trini has a thing for Deorth?" In answer his wife began to laugh. "What?"
"Oh, nothing. You men are so cute about this stuff. Come on, let's go find the others."
************
"Nice outfit, warrior boy," said a voice behind Tommy, who was heading for the dais. He whirled in time to be tackled by a tiny dynamo. "I can't believe you didn't say anything!" Kim alternately kissed and punched him.
He caught her fists and hauled them around his waist, pulling her close. "Hey, they told me it was supposed to be anonymous," he said, laughing.
She leaned her head against his chest. "That was incredible, Tom. What a thrill!"
He began to sing the old Michael Jackson song, gleefully off-key. "'Cause this is Thriller, Thriller night, girl I can thrill you more than – oof!" Which was how he found himself on his butt yet again, but this time much more comfortably, as his Kim was on top of him.
**************
Aji found herself hugged from behind, and she twisted in his grasp to face her lifebound. "Hi," she said, suddenly a little shy.
"Hi yourself," Jason rumbled. "Why didn't I know that was you?"
Aji blushed. "Didn't want you to. I wanted you to see me, the way I've been. Before you," she clarified.
Jason smiled. "I can't wait to show you Earth, either." Aji sighed in relief, knowing he understood. He bent his head to hers, stopping millimeters from her mouth. "By the way…"
"Mmm?" Aji frowned slightly. Why wasn't he kissing her?
Jason ran his hands over her exposed back. "I like the outfit. Remind me to get in a fight with you sometime if this is what you wear." His kiss swallowed the sound of her laughter.
***************
Kat ran to Rocky, throwing her arms around him. "I am so proud you were a part of all this!" she cried, hugging him close. Zack squealed like a cheerleader and hugged them both, hard, until all three started to laugh.
"What are you doing, you weirdo?" Rocky yelled, chortling.
"Just sharing the wealth, bro," Zack hollered back with a grin. "She's beautiful enough to go around!"
"Sorry, dude. Cookies, pizza, even beer I'll share with you. Kat is all mine," returned the Blue Zeo Ranger. "Find your own babe to manhandle."
Kat kissed Zack on the cheek. "Sorry, Zack. Taken."
The handsome former Black Ranger made a show of chagrin, his brown eyes twinkling all the while. "Well, geez, if that's the way you feel, I'll go see what Trini's doing."
Kat giggled. "You may be in for another disappointment, Z."
"Hm." He fingered his chin. "In that case I'll just tie up Adam and squire me some Tanya around this shindig. He's still smaller than me, and I'm sure she'd be grateful for the change."
Rocky rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "Goofball."
*************
Peter clapped his old friend on the shoulder. "Impressive, Iannos. It's been a while for you."
The former Paladin's teeth gleamed against his dark beard. "I am merely glad to still be standing. But it was fun. You should have been out there with me, P'Tyr. I seem to recall a youthful champion of the ethrull named Krann."
Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "No, thank you. That was a very long time ago. I'm still sore from facing off against that grat'lest, and I'm afraid the rigors of the ethrull are quite beyond me now. But as exercise it's a lot more wholesome than your idea of courtship, back when you and Merys were first bound."
Iannos threw back his head with a shout of laughter. "Nonsense. Grat'lest baiting is a perfectly good way to spend an evening. Properly executed, you get an adrenaline rush and the girl ends up in your arms. Who could find fault with that?"
*************
Trini halted at the edge of the arena. What was she doing? Cool-eyed blondes weren't even her type, usually. How had her wayward heart managed to stray so far from her level head?
She sought him out, she couldn't help it, her dark eyes focused on that single goal without further input from her brain. His gray gaze was trained on her, just as single-mindedly, and she shivered at the heat she could feel even across the breadth of the tent.
A gentle hand fell on her shoulder, and she leapt out of her skin with a squeak. "H – hey, Jason, Aji," she said, her voice wobbly. "Didn't see you there."
"Everything okay, T? You seem a bit out of it," came Jason's deep voice, but her attention was already trained back on the lithe blond figure surrounded by the crowd.
"I'm… fine." Trini spoke absently.
By Jason's side, Aji chuckled. "Contrary to the way things have been going around here lately, Bloodsongs are generally rare and precious things."
"But how can I be certain it's not just some big swell of lust?" All of them, even Trini, laughed at the question, though she was fully in earnest.
"Do you get those a lot?" Aji's green eyes sparked with amusement. "The difference is, Trini, that lust can diminish you. Love will nurture you, but you will essentially be the same person you were when you began. But in the Song, each of you is made more than what you were before. If you are more than what you were on Earth, if Deorth is more than he was before you came, then it is the Song. And I suggest you decide what you wish to do about it, for Deorth is now ethrull champion, and we are all bound by his whim. Including you."
As though he'd heard her, Deorth held up his hand for silence, and the crowd obliged him after a moment.
"Your first directive, my son?" Medja's voice was clear and carried on the slight breeze.
He smiled, his own voice ringing out. "That we celebrate who and what we are. That we love each other without reservation or tightly-held grudge. That we have some fun until the moons are high in the sky." Deorth looked about, his focus returning to the side of the arena. "That you come here." The last directive, and a beckoning forefinger, was leveled at Trini, and her chin went up a defiant notch.
Come here, indeed.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you not obey the ethrull champion?"
"I'm no pet." Trini folded her arms. With a broad smile Deorth came to her, until he was face-to-face with her, looking down into her eyes. Sand clung to his bare chest and streaked along one chiseled cheek. His leather pants clung damply to him, the bracers strapped to his forearms served to highlight the muscles of his upper arms. Trini took an involuntary step back, frowning when she realized what she'd done. Deorth seemed to know what she was thinking, because he chuckled.
"I would have lost, you know." He spoke low, so that only she could hear.
"You – what?"
"I would have lost, was giving way, until I heard you. In here," he tapped his head, "and here," his heart. "You gave me your strength, and your wisdom, and my blood began to Sing for you. For you, Trini of Earth." His gray eyes went charcoal. "Do you hear my Song?"
Her throat was dry and thick, but she managed a croak. "I hear."
His voice was just a whisper now. "Do you Sing, Trini?"
"I – I – " She couldn't look away, but oh, she wanted to, to hide, to run, to disappear. To throw herself at him with abandon. "I don't know how."
He opened his arms. "Will you let me show you?"
Trini looked about her suddenly, needing to find an even keel, instead finding understanding from those she loved best, hovering around them in a protective shell: Kat, biting her fingernails; Tanya, her smile broad and kind. Jason, watching her in sympathy, his dark gaze affectionate. Billy, concern reflected deep in those bright eyes. Tommy was smiling gently, his arm around the irrepressible Kim, who was standing goggle-eyed behind Deorth, nodding encouragement as though her head had come loose from its moorings. Adam was wide-eyed and waiting, Zack looking on with benevolent interest. Rocky gave her a thumbs up.
Finally she was able to look at Deorth again, studying his handsome, anxious face. And then Trini smiled. "Show me."
With a sigh he took her gently into his arms, then glanced around at their avid audience. "You'll excuse us, won't you?" Deorth asked, his voice laced with humor. Immediately there was an embarrassed shuffle as they all looked pointedly away, and finally, FINALLY, he lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her.
Thanks to all of you for hanging in. Special thanks goes to TK Styles, who saved my bacon by supplying plausible words to ethrull call to arms. Thanks also to Carrie and Loog for beta'ing and for providing me with girl power inspiration. To Rach for putting up with me and helping me make sense, more or less. If it doesn't, it's 'cause I don't listen to her when I should. To ScarletDeva, just 'cause she's a smoochy. And to Dagmar, for not killing me yet. Go read their stuff too.
Okay, this is fantastically long, at least by my standards, but I didn't want to break it up.
Legacy, part 28
A makeshift arena had been carved out of the yellow sand of the Xeryan desert immediately outside the docking bay. Raised banks of benches curved around a rough oval shape; long poles held aloft a huge length of lightweight fabric, tentlike, softening the unforgiving glare of the afternoon sun. At each end was a dais that loomed above the rows of benches, similarly shielded from the sun by white curtains.
Adam jogged along the side of the arena, his dark eyes scanning the crowd for his wife. A white flutter from the end of the arena caught his attention, and he squinted for a better look, smiling as he recognized some familiar faces. He ran lightly to the bottom of the structure. Cupping his hands around his mouth, Adam called up to the dais where his friends sat. "Hey!"
Jason leaned forward to look over the edge at him, eyebrows raised. "What's up?"
"Anybody seen Tanya?"
Kat's blond head appeared next to Jason's. "Last we saw she was chatting with a girl named Keely."
Taia leaned over next, laughing, her ebony braid spilling over the white- curtained side of the dais. "She'll be along, Adam, don't worry. Please, come up before we all fall out!"
He joined them gladly, shaking hands with the guys, hugging the girls. "Hi, everyone. Or, not quite everyone. Where are Rocky and Zack? And Tom, and Aji?"
They looked at each other, shrugging. "Tommy said he had something to check out before the celebration," Kim volunteered. "He ought to be along any minute, though. I know he wouldn't want to miss this."
"As for Aji, she is helping Medja. You'll see her before too much longer," Taia added with a grin.
Kat was looking out over the arena. "There's Rocky," she said suddenly, pointing to the far end. "And Zack." A group was gathering under the opposite dais, each carrying cylindrical objects of varying sizes.
"Drums," said Trini abruptly. "That's what they are, drums." They watched with interest as more Xeryans joined the group and began setting up what were clearly musical instruments. Rocky pulled out a pair of long sticks from the side of the drum he'd been carrying and began twirling them in his fingers as he chatted with some of the others, sparing a wave for Kat, who waved back with a warm smile.
"Looks like Rocky's flashing back to high school, when we had that garage band for a while," said Adam with a chuckle.
Jason nodded, laughing. "I think everybody must go through that. We did, for about ten seconds, but Zack was the only one who could play anything."
Kim smacked him. "Hey!"
He rolled his eyes. "The only one who could play anything who also wanted to be in the band. You were at the mall." She chuckled and stuck out her tongue.
Billy leaned forward. "Here comes Dad."
Moments later Peter joined them on the dais, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "I am so looking forward to this. I haven't been to one of these in over twenty years." He patted Taia on the shoulder. "Iannos asked me to tell you that he would be a little late, and that we should begin the ethrull desyerti without him."
Taia looked at him doubtfully. "He did?"
Jason looked from one to the other. "Is there something wrong?"
"No," his sister said slowly. "I suppose not." She glanced back at Peter. "You begin it, then. Sestur will signal us when he is ready."
He grinned hugely. "Me? Really?" At her nod, he stepped forward. "All right, I will." He leaned forward, his hands clasped around the railing of the dais, his blue eyes locked on a tallish, heavyset man at the far end of the arena.
Billy looped his arm around his love's slim waist. "Tell them what you were telling me about the ethrull desyerti and what it's all about."
Taia nodded as the others looked toward her expectantly. "Since the first of us defied So'Vran, so many centuries ago, we have tried to gather before each battle, to remember what it is that we fight for, to remember those we have loved who have died in that fight, to celebrate those who will fall."
Trini nodded. "That's what you said in the canteen. So what's involved, exactly?"
Tai smiled. "This first ceremony recalls the skills of the warriors of old, those who first opposed So'Vran's cruel tyranny. Most Xeryans train in the ethrull desyerti to some degree, though there are only a notable few who gain mastery of it." She nodded toward the sandy arena floor. "It begins with the call to battle, a great honor for those who are chosen to cry the warriors to arms. Then come the masked warriors, clad as of old, each demonstrating his or her skill with the traditional weapons of the ethrull. They will drop out, class by class, until only the most skilled are left, and then comes melee." Her dark eyes lit up. "It's most thrilling to watch. Xeryan tradition is that to kill anonymously is the act of a coward; therefore the final warriors remove their masks and fight each other until a single combatant remains, and he or she rules the rest of the celebration, with everyone subject to his whim."
"Wait, there's a fight to the death?" Adam was horrified; Taia laughed.
"No, of course not. Who would be left to fight So'Vran? It is merely symbolic."
Kim grinned widely. "Cool, it's like Roman gladiators or something."
Peter looked back at them excitedly. "There's the signal. Are we ready?"
Adam scanned the arena a final time anxiously: no Tanya. He looked at Kim, who was doing much the same thing with a similar result, and shrugged. She sighed, shrugging back. "I guess so," he said finally. "They'll be sorry they missed it, though." For some reason Taia giggled, but Adam's attention was diverted as Peter raised his hand aloft, and then swung it down to the sound of a gong echoing across the arena.
The drums began.
The beat was loud, mesmerizing, hypnotic, crawling under Adam's skin. He could see Rocky waiting, getting the beat, his head nodding as he took the measure of the rhythm, and then he and Zack joined in, grinning and laughing like maniacs as they stood behind the large drums. It was almost a Latin-style beat, Adam mused, trying to pin it down. Or African, maybe. Either way it had that world music flavor to it. He tapped his slim fingers on the rail of the dais, enjoying the sound as the bank of drums played point and counterpoint in a complex, melodic structure. Looking around he was tickled to see that his friends were similarly affected as they variously nodded, tapped feet or swayed back and forth in time to the exotic rhythm. Even serious Billy was grooving slightly. Adam chuckled to himself.
Taia nudged him, and pointed into the arena, where two feminine figures had entered hand in hand.
They wore loose, flowing white pants that were split up the sides nearly to the waist; the top was not much more than a strategically wrapped strip of fabric that crossed in front, leaving the back almost completely bare. One of the women was pale, blonde; but Adam needed neither Kat's shriek of recognition nor Rocky's shouted "Yeah baby!" to see that the other was his Tanya, her smile wide, her face aglow. He whistled and cheered, stomping his feet for all he was worth, and he wasn't the only one. The dais rocked under the Rangers' enthusiasm. Tanya glanced up, opened her smiling mouth, and she and Keely began the cry to arms.
Not words, just melody, haunting harmony, their voices rich and full, twining about each other and reaching for each listener. Then the Xeryans around them answered, Taia and Peter included, chanting low in a minor key that chilled and exhilarated. Taia was leaning forward, her fist in the air, pumping to the rhythm; Peter was moving to the beat as well, clapping in time as the chant grew. In the crowd, people climbed onto the rear benches, craning their necks over the excited throng. Children were lifted high onto shoulders for a better view. Hands waved in the air as the atmosphere became saturated in anticipation. The singers took up the canticle and their voices soared over the low chant of the crowd, and Adam could feel the small hairs on the back of his neck start to rise. It was thrilling, and exciting, and somehow deeply moving. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to vault over the side of the dais and do something fantastically passionate (and usually private) to Tanya, or go rip something's heart out in her honor. He felt his cheeks start to burn at the surprising thought; Adam glanced quickly at his friends to see if they'd noticed his blush, but they were riveted on the scene below.
With a wave the singers ran from the arena, reappearing moments later on the dais opposite the Rangers; Tanya blew her husband a kiss, and Adam waved excitedly. The song began anew as the ethrull warriors marched into the arena, their bare feet hitting the sand in perfect time to the sinuous drumbeat.
You really couldn't tell them apart, aside from gender, Adam realized. He'd expected to recognize one or two, but no. Sure, there were minor differences in height, or girth, or skin color. The male warriors were bare- chested for the most part, and wore pants of leather or something like it, which were snugly laced up the sides of their legs. On their forearms they wore braces of a similar material. The females wore the same, with the addition of a strip of the leatherlike material looped around their necks, crossed over their bosom and around the back, and tied at the waist, similar to Tanya's current garb. But what so completely obscured their individuality were the masks they wore. Snug to the head and all- enveloping, with mere slits for eyes and mouth, they obliterated all clues to hair color, eye color, face shape, anything. The effect was disconcerting, especially as they began the ritual of the ethrull.
The eerie sound of strings, played low and haunting, joined the stately beat of the drums as the dance began. And it was a dance, mused Adam as he watched. Each warrior moved with precision, every move identical, down to the flick of a wrist or the arch of a foot. Like a kata, you could discern defensive move from offensive, one after the other, but so fluid and graceful that it was one with the music. Like yoga, a bit, he thought, or tai chi; then he completely gave up trying to pigeonhole what he saw in terms he was familiar with. The ethrull desyerti wasn't exactly like anything he'd ever seen.
The beat shifted, gathering momentum, and some of the warriors left the floor, pulling their masks free as they left the arena. Adam was jolted a bit to see that some of them were no more than teenagers, if that, laughing and greeting their friends, joining in the Xeryan chant that grew as the ethrull picked up pace. The moves grew more complicated. More warriors dropped out, joining the chanting throng. The atmosphere became electric, a sense of tension in the air as the ethrull desyerti thinned to the ranks of the finest, and then there were only five, spread across the arena, the movement of their anonymous bodies precise, spare, surgical, elegant. Figures ran briefly to the sides of the arena, planting weapons within reach: a sword here, a javelin-like staff there. A pair of curved blades. Something like a trident. A pair of long-handled clubs, each tipped with a deadly looking heavy ball.
The warriors broke the dance, each taking a place beside a weapon.
"It is melee," whispered Taia to the riveted Rangers.
Adam glanced from one to the next. "How do they choose their weapon?"
Taia smiled. "The best ethrull must be equally proficient in all forms of ancient combat. They will begin with hand-to-hand in any case. Whom do you favor?"
Adam looked them over again. Two were women, one small and lithe, one taller, more muscular. Two of the men were slim yet well built, wide shouldered and slim waisted. The last man was big, brawny, his chest broad, his arms heavily roped with muscles, his thighs like tree trunks, straining the leatherlike material that encased them. "I don't know. Do I have to choose? How can you stand not knowing who they are?"
She chuckled. "I don't know all of their identities for certain, but I confess I have my favorites. Cheer them all on, if you like."
The hand-to-hand began.
This was nothing like the elegant grace of the ethrull dance. This was combat, pure and simple, and it quickly became clear how it was that the Xeryan rebellion had lasted for a thousand years even against so fearsome an opponent as So'Vran. The ethrull desyerti produced warriors of stunning caliber. For each lightning fast strike came a counterstrike; block, spin, parry low, parry high, leap…
Adam's breath caught in his throat as one of the younger men threw himself into the air, somersaulting over their heads, landing a blow to the bigger man's shoulders from midair before landing and rolling to his feet, fists at the ready. The smaller woman had been watching him; she met him as he came up, grasping his forearms in her hands and sliding to the ground suddenly, pulling him off balance and flipping him neatly, winding him as he landed hard in the sand.
"Nice," said Jason approvingly. Adam nodded, unwilling to look away. He didn't want to miss anything.
The other two men and the taller woman had faced off. She held her ground easily against her two opponents, blocking a pair of blows and snapping her fists forward and one leg to the side to temporarily put them in the sand. The bigger man grasped the younger one and threw him bodily at the woman; she dodged and grabbed him by an arm and a leg as he went by, spinning them both around and throwing him back at the man on the ground. He caught the unwitting weapon, his huge chest heaving in what looked suspiciously like laughter. Taia chuckled, confirming to Adam that the ethrull elite were just playing.
Tanya and her partner began to sing again, and this time Adam could pick out words. "… Darkness surrounds us yet we will press on… the fate of all we love is in our hands… let darkness beware… the only fate we shall accept is Victory!" At this last the beat went wild. The ethrull answered with a yell, jerking their masks from their heads and running flat out for their weapons.
The first to pull her mask free was flame haired Aji, sparing a quick glance, a grin, and a two-fingered wave for astounded Jason, who now had a white-knuckled death grip on the dais railing. Next was Deorth, whose gray eyes scanned the dais closely, focusing on a single spot. Adam looked back at his friends to see who the blond soldier was looking for, and got his answer when he saw the blood drain from Trini's otherwise composed face.
The taller woman pulled her mask free, and Adam recognized her as the nice lady who made the food in the canteen; Medja, he thought her name was. He made a mental note along the lines of judging by appearances, and watched in fascination as the brawny man tugged his mask off, causing Jason to have a second coronary and Taia to nearly tumble out of the booth, only narrowly caught by Billy. It was Iannos, grinning ear to ear, red-faced and looking a little surprised as well. Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "He'll be eaten alive out there," the scientist murmured. "He hasn't done this in decades, not since he took on Paladin. It's impressive he got this far, though."
The last ethrull to reveal himself brought the Rangers to their feet as one, for there was the missing Tommy, laughing aloud at their expressions. "Where did he learn to do this? And when?" Kim asked nobody in particular, though it was Adam himself who answered her.
"Probably from Aji," he said. "She's said they share emotions, maybe they share knowledge, too."
"That would make sense," agreed Taia. "Aji is very skilled. You'll see."
And yet it was Aji, handling the twin curved blades, who went out first, as Deorth slipped below her defenses with a blow from his staff, sending her reeling back and down. She rolled back to her feet, but he had the advantage and held to it doggedly, forcing her back. She pushed back, but it wasn't enough. Deorth deflected her attack easily, her blades ringing as they bounced off his staff. He spun and went low, sweeping her feet out, planting the staff deep into the sand and using the leverage to double-kick her arms wide, disarming her, and with a grin, she conceded. He pulled her to her feet and planted a kiss on her cheek before turning back to the fray.
Iannos was next to go, as Medja caught his sword in between her long- handled clubs and tore it from his grasp with a fierce twist. She spun the clubs, never quite connecting with his rapidly retreating torso, but made it clear that she could take him easily if she wanted to. Iannos held up both hands in rueful defeat, earning an approving nod from his foe.
Tommy too was outmatched, though he held his own for a while in a breathtaking mix of Xeryan ethrull tactics and his own extensive martial arts skills. However, it soon became clear that, dazzling though it was, Tommy was merely dodging his opponents' attacks rather than initiating any of his own with the odd-looking trident. It also became clear that he was tiring, and he willingly conceded when given the chance, to tumultuous applause and a respectful bow from Medja.
"She is quite impressed with Tommy, and that means a lot," Taia filled the others in. "Medja is an ethrull master; she rarely competes, and has never lost. But Deorth has studied at his mother's side since he was a tiny child. This last combat should be interesting."
The drums, the song, the chant, everything stopped but the soft breeze that moved the white sides of the tent. Medja smiled at her son and cast aside the heavy clubs, crossing to pick up the sword that Iannos had dropped. Deorth tossed the javelin away and it landed with a soft chunk in the sand as he picked up the twin blades he'd taken from Aji. Medja held the sword aloft, then over her head, pointed at her adversary, her free hand outstretched toward him, her body in a crouch. Deorth rotated his wrists, swinging first one blade and then the other in a tight circle. As the blades came en garde, just slightly crossed and in front of him, his body tensed in preparation. Medja spoke into the silence.
"You are my son." She inclined her head, her expression affectionate. Then she bared her teeth. "But I will give no quarter."
Deorth laughed, a cocky grin spreading on his handsome face. "I ask for none." With that, he lunged forward. He slashed down with the left blade, letting his momentum take him into a potentially lethal spin to then lash out with his right blade, driving a surprised Medja back a step.
Adam heard a low whistle from behind him, and glanced around. Kat was fanning her face, shaking her head with a rueful smile. Trini had a hand over her throat as though she was having trouble swallowing, and Kim had a broad cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on her face. "What?" he asked involuntarily, curious against his will.
"Wow, is he HOT!" said Kim gleefully. "That was – woo hoo! Anybody got some cold water?"
"I knew I didn't want to know," muttered Adam to himself, returning to the combat.
The moment when Medja realized she had no need to hold back was probably the high point of the fight, Adam thought later. Initially, she stayed defensive, allowing Deorth to manipulate her position with ease while she assessed his strengths and weaknesses. And then, like a volcano erupting, Medja burst forth with a yell. The muscles of her back bunched and slid powerfully as she swung the heavy sword in a low arc. Deorth leapt up and back, twisting his body heels over head to land facing her, laughing again. He spun his blades around him, a silver blur, and Adam realized that the son held as many surprises as his mother.
Deorth went high, scissoring the blades; Medja rolled to the ground neatly, bowling her son's feet from under him. She was up first and on the attack, her heavy blade forcing him back as she swung and swung again, her gritted teeth white against her sand-dirtied face. Deorth's good-natured grin had given way to a frown of concentration as Medja pressed forward, blond braid swinging snakelike behind her, the rhythmic clang of metal on metal hypnotically intense.
Adam found himself smashed against the dais railing as Trini pressed forward, her dark eyes intent, her knuckles against her teeth. She gripped the rail with her free hand, nudging Adam aside. "No," she whispered. "Don't concede."
On the arena floor Deorth jerked his head toward the dais in surprise, but his attention was quickly brought back to the situation at hand as Medja's sword hit the sand where he'd been standing a second ago. Adam's attention, on the other hand, was evenly divided now, ping-ponging between the fray below and the generally-reserved Red Zeo Ranger, who was biting her lip as she focused on the scene below.
"Wait, find her rhythm… be patient," she whispered. Adam glanced down at the arena.
Deorth stepped back, and again, and his mother's blade swung nearer, a deadly pendulum. He parried, and parried again, blocked, and blocked again; leapt, and rolled, parried, and blocked, and…
"NOW!" Trini's whisper was harsh, urgent.
On the floor Deorth came alive, one powerful blow blocking Medja's swing while he suddenly twisted his body into the frame of her defense, body- checking her hard to the ground. A seasoned warrior, Medja rolled over and was on her feet in seconds, but Deorth was on the move. She swung to block him, but too wide, and his foot came out in a stunning kick that knocked the weapon from her hand in a glittering arc through the air. Medja did an instinctive back flip but again her son was ahead of her, his lithe form soaring past her to meet her as she landed, his blades crossed at her throat. She froze.
And conceded.
The blades dropped to the ground as Deorth grasped his mother in a bear hug, planting a resounding kiss on her laughing face. The Xeryan crowd erupted, the drums wild. Rocky and Zack were dancing around like maniacs behind their instruments. The dais shook as eight pairs of feet vied to be the first to the ground, Trini winning by a narrow margin.
Adam ran eagerly past her onto the floor of the arena, now crowded with well-wishers, his dark eyes on the alert for a flutter of white or the burnished sheen of chocolate skin; and there was Tanya running toward him, her arms outflung. He grasped her around the waist and lifted her high. "God, honey, you were great! That was abso-frickin-lutely fantastic! Why didn't you tell me?"
She slid to the ground along the length of his body, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Wanted to surprise you," and she kissed him, hard and long. He thrust his fingers into her braids, holding her still for better kiss-access.
"I was surprised as hell," he admitted after he'd surfaced for air.
"Lord," Tanya panted, "was that not intense?"
"Unbelievable," he agreed. "More so where I was. Did you know Trini has a thing for Deorth?" In answer his wife began to laugh. "What?"
"Oh, nothing. You men are so cute about this stuff. Come on, let's go find the others."
************
"Nice outfit, warrior boy," said a voice behind Tommy, who was heading for the dais. He whirled in time to be tackled by a tiny dynamo. "I can't believe you didn't say anything!" Kim alternately kissed and punched him.
He caught her fists and hauled them around his waist, pulling her close. "Hey, they told me it was supposed to be anonymous," he said, laughing.
She leaned her head against his chest. "That was incredible, Tom. What a thrill!"
He began to sing the old Michael Jackson song, gleefully off-key. "'Cause this is Thriller, Thriller night, girl I can thrill you more than – oof!" Which was how he found himself on his butt yet again, but this time much more comfortably, as his Kim was on top of him.
**************
Aji found herself hugged from behind, and she twisted in his grasp to face her lifebound. "Hi," she said, suddenly a little shy.
"Hi yourself," Jason rumbled. "Why didn't I know that was you?"
Aji blushed. "Didn't want you to. I wanted you to see me, the way I've been. Before you," she clarified.
Jason smiled. "I can't wait to show you Earth, either." Aji sighed in relief, knowing he understood. He bent his head to hers, stopping millimeters from her mouth. "By the way…"
"Mmm?" Aji frowned slightly. Why wasn't he kissing her?
Jason ran his hands over her exposed back. "I like the outfit. Remind me to get in a fight with you sometime if this is what you wear." His kiss swallowed the sound of her laughter.
***************
Kat ran to Rocky, throwing her arms around him. "I am so proud you were a part of all this!" she cried, hugging him close. Zack squealed like a cheerleader and hugged them both, hard, until all three started to laugh.
"What are you doing, you weirdo?" Rocky yelled, chortling.
"Just sharing the wealth, bro," Zack hollered back with a grin. "She's beautiful enough to go around!"
"Sorry, dude. Cookies, pizza, even beer I'll share with you. Kat is all mine," returned the Blue Zeo Ranger. "Find your own babe to manhandle."
Kat kissed Zack on the cheek. "Sorry, Zack. Taken."
The handsome former Black Ranger made a show of chagrin, his brown eyes twinkling all the while. "Well, geez, if that's the way you feel, I'll go see what Trini's doing."
Kat giggled. "You may be in for another disappointment, Z."
"Hm." He fingered his chin. "In that case I'll just tie up Adam and squire me some Tanya around this shindig. He's still smaller than me, and I'm sure she'd be grateful for the change."
Rocky rolled his eyes with a chuckle. "Goofball."
*************
Peter clapped his old friend on the shoulder. "Impressive, Iannos. It's been a while for you."
The former Paladin's teeth gleamed against his dark beard. "I am merely glad to still be standing. But it was fun. You should have been out there with me, P'Tyr. I seem to recall a youthful champion of the ethrull named Krann."
Peter chuckled, shaking his head. "No, thank you. That was a very long time ago. I'm still sore from facing off against that grat'lest, and I'm afraid the rigors of the ethrull are quite beyond me now. But as exercise it's a lot more wholesome than your idea of courtship, back when you and Merys were first bound."
Iannos threw back his head with a shout of laughter. "Nonsense. Grat'lest baiting is a perfectly good way to spend an evening. Properly executed, you get an adrenaline rush and the girl ends up in your arms. Who could find fault with that?"
*************
Trini halted at the edge of the arena. What was she doing? Cool-eyed blondes weren't even her type, usually. How had her wayward heart managed to stray so far from her level head?
She sought him out, she couldn't help it, her dark eyes focused on that single goal without further input from her brain. His gray gaze was trained on her, just as single-mindedly, and she shivered at the heat she could feel even across the breadth of the tent.
A gentle hand fell on her shoulder, and she leapt out of her skin with a squeak. "H – hey, Jason, Aji," she said, her voice wobbly. "Didn't see you there."
"Everything okay, T? You seem a bit out of it," came Jason's deep voice, but her attention was already trained back on the lithe blond figure surrounded by the crowd.
"I'm… fine." Trini spoke absently.
By Jason's side, Aji chuckled. "Contrary to the way things have been going around here lately, Bloodsongs are generally rare and precious things."
"But how can I be certain it's not just some big swell of lust?" All of them, even Trini, laughed at the question, though she was fully in earnest.
"Do you get those a lot?" Aji's green eyes sparked with amusement. "The difference is, Trini, that lust can diminish you. Love will nurture you, but you will essentially be the same person you were when you began. But in the Song, each of you is made more than what you were before. If you are more than what you were on Earth, if Deorth is more than he was before you came, then it is the Song. And I suggest you decide what you wish to do about it, for Deorth is now ethrull champion, and we are all bound by his whim. Including you."
As though he'd heard her, Deorth held up his hand for silence, and the crowd obliged him after a moment.
"Your first directive, my son?" Medja's voice was clear and carried on the slight breeze.
He smiled, his own voice ringing out. "That we celebrate who and what we are. That we love each other without reservation or tightly-held grudge. That we have some fun until the moons are high in the sky." Deorth looked about, his focus returning to the side of the arena. "That you come here." The last directive, and a beckoning forefinger, was leveled at Trini, and her chin went up a defiant notch.
Come here, indeed.
He raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you not obey the ethrull champion?"
"I'm no pet." Trini folded her arms. With a broad smile Deorth came to her, until he was face-to-face with her, looking down into her eyes. Sand clung to his bare chest and streaked along one chiseled cheek. His leather pants clung damply to him, the bracers strapped to his forearms served to highlight the muscles of his upper arms. Trini took an involuntary step back, frowning when she realized what she'd done. Deorth seemed to know what she was thinking, because he chuckled.
"I would have lost, you know." He spoke low, so that only she could hear.
"You – what?"
"I would have lost, was giving way, until I heard you. In here," he tapped his head, "and here," his heart. "You gave me your strength, and your wisdom, and my blood began to Sing for you. For you, Trini of Earth." His gray eyes went charcoal. "Do you hear my Song?"
Her throat was dry and thick, but she managed a croak. "I hear."
His voice was just a whisper now. "Do you Sing, Trini?"
"I – I – " She couldn't look away, but oh, she wanted to, to hide, to run, to disappear. To throw herself at him with abandon. "I don't know how."
He opened his arms. "Will you let me show you?"
Trini looked about her suddenly, needing to find an even keel, instead finding understanding from those she loved best, hovering around them in a protective shell: Kat, biting her fingernails; Tanya, her smile broad and kind. Jason, watching her in sympathy, his dark gaze affectionate. Billy, concern reflected deep in those bright eyes. Tommy was smiling gently, his arm around the irrepressible Kim, who was standing goggle-eyed behind Deorth, nodding encouragement as though her head had come loose from its moorings. Adam was wide-eyed and waiting, Zack looking on with benevolent interest. Rocky gave her a thumbs up.
Finally she was able to look at Deorth again, studying his handsome, anxious face. And then Trini smiled. "Show me."
With a sigh he took her gently into his arms, then glanced around at their avid audience. "You'll excuse us, won't you?" Deorth asked, his voice laced with humor. Immediately there was an embarrassed shuffle as they all looked pointedly away, and finally, FINALLY, he lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her.
