Chapter 7
Discussing Options
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“Oh,” Rowan sniffed and pushed away from Jalhar. “There’s my pack. I was beginning to wonder what had happened to it.”
“Well, it’s here safe and sound,” Jalhar murmured beside her, though Rowan had no idea why he was watching her so intently.
Ignoring Jalhar‘s sudden weirdness, Rowan moved over to meet Grim. Her hands fairly itched to get into the ruck and check on her stuff. Unceremoniously jerking
open the laces Rowan started pulling out the gear she had packed a day and a lifetime ago. She would just have to take the risk that they didn’t kill women with
weird stuff out of hand. If so she was so dead.
Sparing a nervous look at Jalhar, Rowan couldn‘t help but wet her lips, “Um, I imagine that a lot of stuff in here will look odd to you, but I swear nothing is bad. I
will be glad to answer any of your questions.”
Dark eyes watched her steadily. “I didn’t doubt that for a minute, Rowan.” It came out as a soothing purr of reassurance. Swallowing her unease, Rowan searched
his face, needing to know if he meant what he said and saw only protective watchfulness. An uncomfortable realization dawned; even if the laws of Jalhar’s
people required that she be killed for the items in her backpack, he would not allow it, not as long as she dealt honestly with him. There was a steadiness, a
promise that dwelled in his dark gaze. No matter what came, she was truly safe with this man. It was a dizzying concept.
“Thank you.” She whispered, more in response to what she saw in his eyes than what he had said. Turning back to her bag, Rowan focused pulling things out. It
was best just to concentrate on the task at hand than the chaos that man inspired inside of her. She had a feeling that if she tried to take it all in at once, her
mind would break. The bag seemed a safe alternative to a mental breakdown.
As she pulled things out and placed them on the table, Rowan was hard put not to laugh at the barely contained yearning that occasionally flitted across Grim’s
face. He looked like a kid staring at a cookie jar while trying to play it cool. Maybe that is why she felt the need to draw out the locked woven Kevlar security bag
at the top of her pack and put it casually aside on the table without making a move to unlock it. She ignored it as she pulled out some of her earlier samples and
lab equipment. The difference in the two men was telling; Jalhar watched her actions carefully taking careful note of everything she pulled from the pack and
the way it was stowed, while Grim had been unable to take his eyes off the reinforced security bag from the moment she had unpacked it. Rowan had a feeling
that he would be embarrassed if he knew how easily she read him. Finally he was unable to contain his curiosity any longer and nodded towards the heavy lock.
“Do your people typically use such devices?” The casualness of the statement did not fool her at all.
“No, I am just a poor student. Other people use tougher luggage and much nicer locks.” She grimaced and unlocked the simple device before tossing it to Grim.
“This is only good at keeping the honest people honest. Fortunately, those that are not honest generally look at my bag and figure out it is not worth the trouble.”
Jalhar’s rich laugh filled the room as Grim plucked the lock from the air in a smooth motion. “You seem to have done very well for yourself—poor student or not.”
He lifted a piece of lab equipment. “Somehow I doubt that these things are commonly used on your world.”
“Why?” She asked putting down the small bundle in her arms. Rowan was curious how Jalhar could be so sure of that fact. Even Grim looked up from fiddling with
the lock at her question.
A small smile spread across Jalhar’s features as he held up an Erlenmeyer Flask wrapped in socks. “Because if these things were commonly used by traveling, you
would not have had to wrap it in these stockings to protect it. They would have had some sort of regular container.”
“My stars,” Grim feigned shock, though a teasing smile still tugged at his lips. “There is a good mind in that skull of yours after all, Jalhar.” The teasing faded from
his eyes as he picked up some of her equipment and handled it in a knowing manner. “These are of good quality though. There seems to have been a lot of care
in their construction and that doesn‘t come cheap on any world.”
Jalhar nodded and looked back at her, “So why the plain pack instead of one meant for them?”
She shrugged. “Two reasons really; the ease of transport and more importantly, camouflage. I have had to travel to a lot of places where that equipment was
worth several years worth of salary.” She met Grim’s eyes, somehow sure he would understand this the best. “So I make sure to look like a normal starving student
instead of a researcher. The best way to avoid becoming a victim is not to look like one.”
All the humor fled from the room. Jalhar suddenly looked very serious and very dangerous. “So have you ever been a victim, Rowan?”
Her mood blackened as the question caused dark memories to stir. She cleared her throat and struggled to change the subject. “Do you want me to unpack my
things here, or can I go to my room to put the things away?”
Jalhar opened his mouth as if he was going to ask another question, but was brought up short by a quick head shake from Grim. The dark man made a small
gesture toward her pack. “I think I can safely speak for us all when I say that I would be interested in examining everything in there. What may seem normal or
inconsequential to you may be an important advantage to us.”
Jalhar gave Grim hard look before turning his attention back to her. “Grim is right, though I am loath to invade your privacy. It would be best if you would show us
what is in there to avoid any future misunderstandings or suspicions.”
A small fear curled in her belly. There were some things in the bag that could be dangerous, at least to her. She bit her lip as she thought about how many
things could be taken the wrong way. Just how open-minded were these people? Jalhar seemed to understand her reservations. “You have my promise, we will
not judge you poorly for what we see, but it is best if we know everything.” A warm hand covered hers and curled around her clenched fists. “Why don’t we start
with what you were studying? I imagine it had something to do with that wondrous powder. I can tell you there are several of my people that would love to know
more about it.” His face held such admiration, she found herself flushing in discomfort. Her little hobby had never attracted anything but distain before.
“I am a chemist and a bit of a historian.” There was an odd stutter in her speech as the translation stumbled over the word chemist. Apparently there was no
translation for the term.
“Chemist.” Grim seemed to taste the word, savoring the flavor of it. “What exactly is it that a chemist does?” Well that was a big kind of question, wasn’t it? How
was she going to summarize or explain more than a thousand years of technical knowledge? She watched their faces, her mind racing as they waited patiently
for her answer. After several false starts, Rowan decided to go with the textbook explanation.
“Chemists study the interaction of elements and molecules in order to better understand the workings of the world around them.” She breathed a sigh of relief as
everything but molecules translated. Even without that word her explanation hopefully made sense.
Grim pulled quietly at his lips for a few moments before a light came to his eyes. “Do you mean you are something like an alchemist?”
She smiled with relief. “Yes, close. Chemistry started out as alchemy, but became a branch of its own when we decided to eliminate the search for magic and
magical processes, and instead concentrated on the pure facts of the matter.”
“Eliminated magic…” Grim echoed, looking scandalized. She gave him an understanding smile.
“I imagine that sounds rather strange to you since your people apparently live hand-in-hand with the stuff.” A small part of her brain was still screaming denials of
that and trying to come up with explanations. That little hysterical voice insisted that she had to be dreaming, that she was knocked out with heatstroke or
something.
Jalhar seemed to know of her quiet distress because his hands tightened around her wrists as if seeking to anchor her. “I imagine this is quite difficult for you if
your world rejected magic some time ago.”
She gave a short burst of nervous laughter. “You have no idea.” She shook with the need to cry, with the need to break down, but it was not going to do her any
good. Ruthlessly, she repressed the self-indulgent urges and made herself focus on the men. “Chemistry is not exactly a popular profession on my world. We
require our students to have a basic understanding before they get out of school, but few go on to follow the pure science of it. Fewer still develop a passion for
it.” She gave a twisted smile. “Most of the students I taught would tell you they would prefer to be strung up on a rack rather than be subjected to another hour of
organic chemistry.”
Jalhar gave a slight smile of understanding. “I can think of a few things I have had to learn that made me feel that way.”
She nodded. “It is said that once you know chemistry, you either love it or hate it. As it is, most people are unwilling to take the time to discover what their
reaction will be.”
Grim cleared his throat. “Contrary to your statement, I would very much like to learn all about your chemistry. In turn, I would be willing to teach you about
alchemy.” He smiled as if he knew what a temptation his offer would be.
She felt her flush deepen. Was she already so transparent to these people? It did not stop her from replying though. “I have always been interested in the ancient
alchemists’ ways. Maybe it will shed light on my own research. I was trying to discover what ancient peoples in my world did with chemistry, trying to mimic their
productions of Greek Fire and Holocaust Cloaks.”
In her excitement she forgot the translation problems until the words were already out of her mouth. Oddly enough, Greek Fire did translate as did the words for
Holocaust Cloak. It gave her another mystery to consider. Had these people had some sort of contact with the ancient world? It would certainly explain a lot of
myths. “Do you think there was travel between our worlds in the past?” She asked breathlessly, “Because it is really weird those terms translate for you guys.” If that
were true, Grim would have a starting point with which to begin his search.
Grim‘s eyes flicker with something almost like annoyance. “It is possible since the words still exist in our language.” His long fingers stroked absently at his chin as
if seeking a beard long cut off. “I will factor that possibility into my calculations. Now, on the formula and the cloak, your people have lost the making of such
things?” His mouth twitched. “We replaced those items with magic long ago.”
“And we replaced them with science.” She shrugged at his suddenly closed expression. “I am just interested in the old and simpler ways of doing things.”
“Perhaps our own people should look into the old ways as well.” Jalhar mused thoughtfully, “Because the purely magical things we replaced Greek Fire with do
not harm the Unclean. Who knows what else we have forgotten in our past.”
“That’s two in one day.” Grim muttered to himself before clearing his throat. “You’re right, Jalhar. We are going to have to check into that later.”
“Perhaps, Rowan, you will find some of the answers you were seeking here, especially now that our own people are interested in the task.” Jalhar said softly as he
moved slightly away to give her more room.
Rowan nodded and tried to smile a little. To be honest, if it weren’t for Brian, she would probably be pretty excited by the opportunities in this new place. “It will
certainly be fun to find out what your records and legends say about such things.”
Grim was back to fiddling with the lock as she pulled out her trauma pack. The obviously different nature of those items drew Jalhar‘s attention.. “Those don’t look
like more of your chemistry equipment. What can you tell us about them?” He gestured encompassed her IV bags and several clear sterile packages.
“Oh, that is my first aid kit. A lot of the places I go are pretty isolated so it is best to have the best available.” The terms translated, thank goodness. This particular
pack had been the best that Gall’s put out, but Rowan imagined that wouldn’t mean a thing to Jalhar.
“Those are rather large potions are they not?” Grim asked eyeing the bags doubtfully, obviously trying to picture drinking them. Rowan repressed a chuckle at his
wary expression.
“Those are not potions,” she explained softly. “They are used for volume fluid replacement if a person has lost a lot of blood. This keeps them from going into
hypovolemic shock.” She crossed her fingers as she came to the term but it did not help. Latin-based medical terms were obviously not in their translation diary,
or whatever made the ring work.
Ah well, she plunged into the explanation, “Hypovolemic shock occurs when someone has lost so much blood they do not have enough left for their heart to
push around easily. By increasing the fluid volume in the blood stream you can stabilize the patient. It does not heal them, but it can keep them from dying
while you get them further help.” After the first few words she was not surprised to note that Grim’s eyes held only academic interest, but Jalhar was looking at the
bags with new respect and ill-disguised enthusiasm.
His voice was tense with passionate interest when he spoke. “What gets this fluid into the blood stream and why do you not need blood?” He was peering at the
clear bags intently, as if the strength of his gaze could force the answers from the pouches.
Yep, she thought, she had hit upon one of his primary interests. He looked like Brian did when she told him the book, Armour from the Battle of Wisby, had finally
been republished. It was exactly how she imagined a starving wolf would look if provided with a prime piece of meat. She did her best to answer his questions
while continuing to unpack the bag. Soon they had covered the basics of blood typing and some of the origins of infection.
Jalhar was still looking very interested when she had to pause to wet her dry throat. “We are going to have the basis for many interesting conversations on this
subject alone.” He fingered an IV bag. “Do you know natural substitutes for this liquid or perhaps how to make it?” The urgency with which he asked it told her of
its critical importance.
“Yes, and it would be my pleasure to explain as much as I can to you later.” She muttered as she rummaged around, pushing her bags of clothing aside until she
came up with her CD folder.
“What are in those bags?” Grim asked motioning to her color coded laundry bags.
“Clothing—blue for clean and brown for dirty.” She saw the suspicious look he gave her. “Really, I will call the maid in a minute to take care of the items, but I
would prefer not to go through my underthings with two men I just met.” She glanced meaningfully at Jalhar. “No matter how gallant.”
He chuckled, waving at Grim as if physically trying to dismiss his suspicions. “Very well, we can forgo the tour of those items. I imagine that they are about the
same as our own people’s garments, though your state of dress yesterday was not quite what I am used to.”
“Actually, I have already discovered few differences between our worlds in what we wear...” Her words stammered to a halt when she spotted the avid interest in
both Grim and Jalhar’s eyes. Oh no, she had triggered the ‘I could see what no man has seen before’ syndrome in both the men. Me and my big mouth, she
mused, irritated beyond belief at the distinct flavor of her foot in her mouth.
Resolutely she continued, hoping to distract the men from their embarrassing musings. “As for what I was almost wearing yesterday.” Jalhar grinned at her
phrasing. “The plateau was quite hot and I was not expecting to be seen by anyone. I normally cover up a bit more than that.”
“You were clad in your world’s underwear?” Grim asked in an innocent tone. "I thought it looked a little skimpy." There was definite deviltry dancing in his eyes.
“Cute—real cute—but no. Those are considered clothes by nearly everyone, just highly revealing ones.” She flushed again. She had never planned for anyone to
see her in those particular garments.
“I’ll agree with that assessment,” Jalhar muttered to her left.
She ignored him as she pulled out the one item she had been worried about since she woke that morning. Her laptop had been carefully encased and padded in
the rucksack, but that meant next to nothing after the cataclysmic trip between worlds. The men faded from her mind as she took out the smooth gray case and
set it gingerly upon the table. She barely breathed as she bent to examine it closely. No cracks or obvious breaks, Rowan bit her lip as she carefully lifted the lid,
afraid of what she might find. Relief flooded through her when the LCD screen showed an unblemished surface. It was still intact. She pressed the power button
with a silent prayer and waited. A blessed whirring greeted her actions as the computer started up.
“So far so good,” she muttered as she watched the computer avidly. A moment later she caught herself chewing her lip as she waited for the diagnostics to run. It
was only then she became aware of the absolute silence in the room. A quick glance at the men proved that an explanation was definitely more than a good
idea—it was probably necessary for her health.
Jalhar was watching her with a shuttered expression, all the life missing from his eyes. Grim was tense and not even blinking as he watched her computer, looking
like he expected it to spring from the table like some monstrous apparition. Both men’s rings were glowing with a steady light. They both looked dangerous—very,
very dangerous.
“Um, you both are probably wondering what I am doing.” Her voice drifted off as she found herself the focus of both men’s stares.
“Yes.’ Jalhar’s eyes were heavy, almost sleepy looking. His eyes had gone so dark they were almost black. He ought to look tired with his eyes like that, she mused,
but no, if anything, he was somehow even more lethal looking. He reminded her of a hungry wolf lazing in the bright sunshine as it watched the rabbits hop ever
closer. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she should have spoken far sooner.
“This is my computer…” she began, trying to decide how she should explain such a complicated device. Oddly enough, the term translated to something like
‘official calculator’. At least it was a start. She grimaced and plunged on, hoping the explanation would become easier as she went. “It stores all of my data:
books, music, images, and formulas—everything I need. People use computers for communication, trade, and entertainment. Just about anything really.”
“Why were you so apprehensive when you opened it?” Jalhar’s voice was detached—almost disinterested—but she was not fooled. He was on the very edge of
action. Without question she knew this was his most dangerous tone. Well, she was not one for veiled threats.
“You can quit with the ‘we are deciding whether or not to kill it’ vibes. It is just that this is a very delicate device.” She risked a glare at both of them. She was not
going to cower, no matter how threatening they seemed. If she started cowering from life now, she would never stop. Grim’s face had gone blank and Jalhar’s
expression was one of stunned surprise. Good, let them be a little off balance. They deserved it after giving her those looks. She allowed herself a little righteous
anger, knowing it was the only thing keeping her from being very, very afraid.
“I realize you people are a bit tense since you are living in a place where vile beasts can pop out of the air, but if I can live with that as a possibility, you can
certainly deal with a little modern technology.” Her jaw thrust out in challenge, daring them to contradict her.
“I see.” Grim’s tone was dry and a little amused. “Perhaps you would be willing to explain how this device works?”
Her mind boggled at the thought of even trying to explain a computer. She was not even sure she could. Electronics and physics were not her strengths. God,
this one was going to be long. Maybe she should just give a demonstration. “It’s easier to show you what it can do than to try and explain everything. Basically it’s
an information resource. I have books, pictures, um…viewable stories, music and computational programs on it.” She caressed the keyboard fondly. “This is one
of my few indulgences. I bought the most powerful computer I could find since I knew I would be traveling a lot, doing research.”
She pointed to the solar battery charger that had cost a minor fortune. “I even bought that so I would have the power to run it wherever I went. It just needs light
to power up the battery.” Interesting, the words translated to ‘energy source for the official calculator.’
Her small digital camera lay next to the laptop. She was more than a little paranoid about losing her work. She always recorded her work in the lab notebooks, at
the same time photographing them, and once a month she would burn a copy of the entire notebook onto a CD. That way she had it in hard copy, on the
computer and on disc. The benefit of the disc and computer was that she could insert pictures of the sites and her work as she went. It all worked rather well. A
few quick connections and the camera was hooked up. She tapped out the command for a complete system diagnostics. It was going to take a while.
“I think it would be better if you just watched,” she concluded lamely.
The smile Grim gave her then was not exactly friendly. “Oh, be assured Rowan, You have our full attention.” An elegant gesture took in the now humming
device, “Please proceed with your demonstration.”
That brought up another question; begin with what? She had brought nearly all her CDs and DVDs on her trip, unwilling to leave her one indulgence behind.
They didn’t weigh much and it was nice to have her music and movies for company on the quiet nights in the middle of nowhere. Some DVDs were becoming
dull with wear, especially the Rings saga.
A wicked thought crossed her mind. She wondered what they would make of such a story. Another far more troubling thought followed it. These men were living
in a wild and magical world full of dangers. They might take the story on the DVDs as truth. Their reaction to the story would tell her much about their world. If
nothing else it would be interesting to watch. A small chime announced the initial scan was complete. Her favorite picture of a castle gleamed from the LCD
screen. Grim looked like he could devour the computer with his eyes alone.
“Where is that place?” Grim’s hand was reaching out to touch the screen.
“Please don’t,” she cautioned softly. When his hand jerked back she hastened to explain. “The screen is very delicate and it is best not to touch it.” The castle still
stood quietly on the screen as it filled with little icons. “This is just a picture placed on the screen for my viewing pleasure. The castle was built by a king known
as Ludwig the Mad. ”
“It looks too maintained to be abandoned, but where are the guards?” Jalhar frowned and his hand rose to trace the battlements. “And this design looks like a
total…—” he broke off and cleared his throat with an embarrassed flush. He cast a quick, unreadable glance at her before turning back to the screen. “It looks like
it was difficult to defend.”
She had a feeling she would have understood what he was struggling not to say. She hastened to reassure him. “Brian didn’t like it either. He said if I had to look
at castles, I should at least look at good ones.” She gave them both a winning smile. “I just told him that I thought the snow, mountains and sky came together
beautifully in the picture.”
Grim made a rude sound that was oddly close to Brian’s opinion on the matter. “What did this Brian’s favorite castle look like?” He asked in an oddly muted voice.
When she glanced at him, she found an expression on his face like he was patronizing a particularly dull child. Apparently even stodgy academic types knew
about castle defenses here. She wondered for the first time if she was actually in some sort of castle. She glanced again at the walls covered with tapestries and
rugs. It was probably a good bet. Sighing, she turned to the computer.
“Let me show you. I loaded several images on there so I could keep him happy.” She smiled. “Besides, it’s fairly pretty place too.” Before they could come up with
another comment, she had opened up the control panel and started scrolling through the images she had stored. A couple of clicks brought the castle up.
“This one is in Germany ,” she explained quietly. “It was never defeated even with our most modern weapons.” A few more clicks started scrolling the entire series
of castle pictures. The men were tense again but oddly, they did not seem to be focused on the same things. Jalhar was staring at the slowly changing pictures
of the castles, briefly tracing particular points of each building in the air and Grim was staring at the computer.
“What in the world were they thinking?” Jalhar suddenly sputtered. She turned to look at him just as the famous white and blue walls faded from view.
“Oh that,” she waved a hand at the screen dismissively. “That was the same castle we started with. It was built long after castles—with certain rare exceptions—
were no longer used for defense. It was just the King’s playground and building project.”
Jalhar was staring at her in horror. “The one built by Ludwig the Mad you said. How could the people tolerate a mad king?”
“They liked breathing?” she muttered surprised he had to ask. Grim immediately chucked. Yep, he understood what she was saying.
“But the cost to the people...” Jalhar was still horrified at the beautiful but useless excess.
“What else does this computer do?” Grim asked, obviously trying to change the subject. “You have many little symbols on that screen. None are magical, but
surely they serve a purpose.”
“They do. Each is a link to a program or sorted information put aside for me to use.” Rowan debated with herself for a moment then a smile split her face as she
decided to leave it up to them. “What would you like to see first of them? She gestured towards her discs. “I have everything from music to movies, um animated
bard’s tales.” Rowan hastily amended.
“You have such frivolous things on your computer?” Grim actually seemed offended. “What about research—chemistry?”
She snorted and waved away his obviously self-motivated interest. “Oh that’s there too, but you have to find time to relax some too. It helps me think more clearly.
That pack there holds one hundred music collections, about fifty movies, forty picture discs, two hundred plus books and another fifty reference collections.” She
smiled at both their stunned expressions and made a private bet with herself that books were a rare treat among their people.
“It sounds like a treasure,” Grim said quietly, his tongue curling around the word like it was a beloved sweet. “Do many people on your world have such wealth?”
His eyes never left the softly humming device.
“Yes,” she reassured him quickly, a little creeped out by his fixation. “A good percentage of our population use them for one thing or another. Even our children
typically have to do some of their work on the computer.” Grim looked at her, shock playing across his face.
“You allow children access to these things?” He glared at her with seeming outrage. “You risk these devices even though they are delicate?” ‘Are you all insane’
was not said but still echoed loudly in the air between them.
She shrugged. “A computer is fairly simple if somewhat expensive to replace on my world, and children need to be skilled in their use. Without repair or
replacement as an option though, I need to be very careful of this one.” She patted her laptop gingerly, thinking of the weeks—years—she had invested in the
papers stored on the disc. It seemed like her entire adult life was stored on the device. At least everything that meant anything. She even had Brian’s emails
stored and catalogued on disc. It was such a small thing. Was this the full sum of her life? Somehow she had thought it was more.
Pushing the sadness away, she looked up to see what the two men were doing now. Grim was studying the small sealed bag containing her samples from the past
week. All were carefully tagged and labeled. “Those are just samples of the steps I took to make the powder.” She explained softly and pointed at the formulas
printed on them. “These let me know what is in them.
“That looks more like a drawing than any writing I have seen.” Jalhar chimed in as he peered at the chemical structures.
She smiled, “You are right, in a way.” and pulled out the heavy chemical catalogue that went with her everywhere even though it had added another four kilos to
her pack. Grim’s hand snaked out with astonishing quickness as she flipped it over and revealed the cover. Every year the company put out a new catalogue with
a cover of some old master’s painting of an alchemist. Her mouth quirked as his hand hovered over the face and then passed over the cover carefully as if
looking for something. He grunted finally and then looked at her, his face a study in irritation.
“Who is on that book and how was his picture placed there?” He lifted it out of her hands in obvious frustration and held it up for closer examination, his easy
manner gone.
Struggling to swallow her nervous chuckle, she focused on the book. “Er…let’s see. The catalogue usually states who did the original painting on the inside. I don’
t know my old Masters that well.” She had always hated memorizing the seemingly endless and useless facts about art. She dismissed her lack of knowledge with
a shrug. Stretching her hand to the book with careful slowness, she tapped the picture gingerly. Grim looked like the proverbial powder keg.
“As far as how the painting was reproduced,” she shrugged again. These people obviously did not have printing presses. “It was printed, a method my people
have of mass producing pictures and text.”
Grim’s gaze held a dizzying mix of outrage and speculation. “You don’t know your masters? Do your people take so many apprentices then?” He was looking at
the rest of her equipment with more than a little appreciation. “Surely with such items you could not be an apprentice.”
“Whether she is an apprentice or not, your school would have no claim upon her skills, Grim. She has made no bonds or contracts here,” Jalhar said quickly, his
hand tightening on her leg. Dull amazement moved through Rowan as she realized what was going on. These people were evidently on the old guild system.
They were in a way as archaic as their dress.
Rowan held up a hand to forestall any further arguments. “I think you all have misunderstood something,” she blurted hastily, the thoughts of poisonous fumes
dancing through her head. “When I referred to ‘masters’, I was referring to the acknowledged masters in painting, from my people’s past. They are quite dead and
have nothing at all to do with that book.”
Grim blew a sigh of disappointment and eased back into his chair, gesturing for her to continue. He did not, she noticed, release his hold on the book. Jalhar was
still eyeing him warily, a small frown upon his face. She did not want to even try to understand what was going on between them.
“That book is a catalogue, a list of products offered by a particular company. They sell chemicals.” The word came out of her mouth the same as it would in
English. She had to assume there was no translation. She sighed and scrubbed her face in frustration. “I guess you don’t know that word.” She winced internally.
“They are basically what makes up the physical world.”
“Earth, air, fire and water?” Grim queried quickly, a sharp interest in his eyes.
“Oh no, that is another form of element,” she reassured quickly. “An element is a substance that can not be broken down into any more basic complete units.
Water can be broken down into oxygen and hydrogen, which are both gasses except at very low temperatures, but hydrogen and oxygen can not be broken
further. Unless, of course, you break them into the very particles of creation which is very involved and highly theoretical.” Jalhar’s eyes were already glazing, but
Grim was looking even more intrigued. He almost looked hungry, but she didn’t think he wanted food or something as common as her body. It made her nervous.
She rambled on, trying to give herself time to think. “Since my last class in Subatomic Physics was many years ago, I will beg off going into the answers to that
one. Anyway, my people came up with a list of these primary unique substances and defined their properties. Using what we understand about these basic
elements, we have explored the chemical basis of our world, and over hundreds of years, have determined the molecular formulas for many substances.”
She sat back with a sigh and gestured to the book. “That catalogue is useful because it contains descriptions of the most commonly known molecules, which, of
course, the company sells. It shows the molecular conformation of the chemical and gives most of its physical properties.” She shrugged. “We use it as a
reference book.” She quirked a smile and assumed a formal lecturing voice. “This concludes your first lecture in Chemistry 101.”
She chuckled at their slightly stunned looks. “It was all more than you probably wanted to know about basic chemistry, but I guess once a lecturer, always a
lecturer. Sorry about that.” Grim gave her an odd look and Jalhar was looking more than slightly amused, his air one of relaxed superiority. Their rings were
glowing once more. She felt like she was a bug on a pin being examined by a particularly intelligent class. She gestured to the rings, wanting to shift their focus
for a little while.
“You know that is a really odd phenomenon,” she observed, quietly wondering if they would tell her about it. To her surprise, Grim flushed slightly. Something she
would have been willing to bet he was incapable of only moments before. He just didn’t seem the sort.
“Well, um…yes it is.” Grim seemed uncomfortable with her observation. She would figure it out eventually. She set the back of her mind to working on it as he
changed the subject without any effort to disguise the shift. “Your chemistry seems very close to our alchemy.” He gestured to the book again. “It was what I
thought was pictured on the cover here. After listening to you though, I would like to discuss it more with you later. I think your world has been exploring
something unknown to us here.”
“I would be glad to teach you what I know,” she reassured him quickly. “But since chemistry evolved from alchemy, I would bet the basics at least will be a little
familiar”
Damn, the word evolve did not translate. She was not about to open that can of worms.
“Er…I mean chemistry was developed from alchemy. After we gave up the search for the sorcerer’s stone and magic, we were able to get down to the serious
business of describing our own physical world and discovering how things really worked.”
“Your people truly have no magic at all?” Grim seemed stunned—perhaps disturbing intrigued.
“None that I know of.” She thought back to her comparative religion class, and shook her head. She had never thought she would use her liberal education so
much. She bit back the chuckle that rose to her lips. “Some people in my world still worship Nature and some worship Evil. Both of these groups claim to have a
form of religious based magic.” Sadness moved through her as she realized these people probably shared none of the gods she knew of, including her own.
“My faith,”—she touched her grandmother’s medals on the necklace around her neck in an unconscious gesture as she spoke—“has always frowned upon the
practice of magic because they associated it with those who worship Evil. Until about two hundred years ago, people were still tried and convicted of being
witches. They were tortured or killed for the offense. Now my priest is part of a religious council that includes a druid, so I guess we have come a long way from
the Dark Ages when witches were burned at the stake.”
She frowned at the sudden rigidity of Grim’s face. It was not hard to understand what had bothered him. “My faith is my faith, Grim—not yours. I have no problem
with who you are, from what I have seen, or what you do. I know from my flight with Jalhar that your magic is not based on darkness. If you practiced Evil, Jalhar
would not tolerate you. I know that much about him already.” There was a small movement at her side as Jalhar stirred in surprise.
She looked over at him. “I may not know much about you or this world yet, but I know this. Whatever the magic is based on in your world, it is not evil. I know you
would not willingly deal with evil for anything.” Jalhar blinked, obviously stunned by her complete confidence.
Grim did not change one whisker of his position in the chair as his eyes met her evaluating gaze, but the sense of readiness that seemed so much a part of him
was a hair less explosive. “Lady Rowan, you are correct that I would willingly have nothing to do with evil creatures. They are quite abhorrent to me.” There were
shadows in his eyes that she didn’t want to understand. “But I am astounded that your people manage to survive without any magic, for as you know, the dark
dwellers are quite real, and it would seem beyond comprehension to live in a world with no defense against them.”
A shudder rippled through her as she wondered if the creatures had preyed upon the small population of the town after they escaped. She reached for the
reassurances of her youth, praying her grandmother had been right. Perhaps faith would protect those in the village. She wanted to believe that it did. “I don’t
know if we have no defense or not.” She fingered her medals thoughtfully. “Faith has always has been held as a protection by my people. I do not doubt that it is
truly so now.”
Jalhar’s hands drifted up hesitantly toward her hand that was clutching her medals tightly. “May I see them?” His eyes held a warmth she had not seen before. “I
promise to return them to you.”
She drew in a deep breath as she looked at him, trying to understand the new interest she felt coming from him. His face held an infinitely patient, waiting
expression as his hand was held out expectantly in the air between them. She clutched the medals briefly around her neck, reluctant to take them off. He said
nothing as she hesitated; only looking at her with those haunted eyes. Something in her heart turned over and before she fully realized what she was doing, her
hands were on the old, worn clasp.
She almost never took them off, not even for a bath. It was silly, she supposed, and not something easily explained, especially for a woman of science. When she
wore them, she felt as if her grandmother was still with her—at least a little. There were times that she swore that her grandmother’s faith shone from the simple
medals straight into her heart to warm her. Glancing at Grim, she knew without question that if he had been the one to ask, she would not have removed the
medals without coercion. Jalhar was different, though she could not define why.
The worn medals gleamed dully in the glowing lights of the room, showing clearly the decades of wear against the high polish of the titanium chain she had
purchased years ago. She’d worn through so many gold and silver necklaces that it had seemed best to get a stronger chain. The titanium chain had snagged a
few time and needed repair, but it had never broken. The thought of trusting her grandmother’s medals to a less sturdy metal was something she would not even
consider. Jalhar’s hands cupped the medals reverently as she pooled the chain in his hands and a tightness eased in her heart as her anxiety eased. Yes, he
understood what she felt for the medals.
“They are so old I can no longer read any of your God’s symbols on them,” he observed quietly. “Except this one.” He held up her silver cross, the figure worked in
reverent detail and showing less wear than the others.
“My grandmother had that made for me at my birth and kept it until I was old enough to care for it properly. At my confirmation it was blessed, and I have not
been apart from it since.” She touched a finger to the carefully worked figure. Leave it to grandmother to make sure it was historically accurate. The figure did
not make comfortable viewing, but it did not seem to disturb the men.
Jalhar’s fingers carefully spread the other aged-brown medals. “These others…?” The question was clear.
“Were my Grandmother’s. My faith believes they offer some protection, not because of what they are but because of what they symbolize.” She wondered if his
faith was such that he understood what she meant; so many people confused the symbol with the prayers themselves.
It was almost as if she had asked the question aloud. An ironic smile crossed his lips as he pulled a chain from around his neck with a practiced gesture. He held
the glittering symbols out to her. She cupped her hands in an unconscious echo of his careful motions, and found them filled with a heavy chain and several
heavier medals. The first two were worn far more than her own, all traces of figures and writing long since erased by time and wear. The third seemed vaguely
familiar. It was a cross as well, one evenly quartering a circle. The last medal was shaped like a full moon though the craters depicted were not ones she knew.
The chain that held them was a work of art, and she knew very well that though the metal was silver in color, it was neither silver nor gold. The sheen of it was
wrong. She passed her hands over the worn medals and immediately felt a comfort similar to that which her symbols gave her. “I might recognize this one,” she
said softly as she caressed the odd cross. “It came well before my religion on my world, and had to do with the worship of the earth and elements, among other
things.”
“Perhaps it is similar”—Jalhar’s face had a faint smile—“for my faith has something to do with the finding of our God in nature.” He seemed to be waiting for her to
guess further. Her fingers went unbidden to the symbol of the full moon as her mind worked furiously.
“This is a symbol of fertility on my world in the context of the Nature Deities, associated more with the Lady of the Harvests than the Hunter.” She cocked an
assessing eye at him. “I would have pegged you more for a follower of the Hunter.”
A dry chuckle escaped his lips. “Indeed, if our religion worked that way, I would probably be a priest of your Hunter, but it is not quite the same with us.” He
gestured at the moon. “That is a symbol of the eternal cycle that surround us—of life and death. Perhaps your Hunter and Lady are one, for we, in this kingdom,
only recognize one God though with infinite aspects, but freely worship which ever portion calls to us clearly.”
“You said priest.” She seized on the word. “Are you one then?” Great, she had been sitting here admiring a priest’s eyes. She let her gaze wander to his chest and
hands, then lower. Well those eyes and other attributes made it kind of hard to ignore him. She flushed, feeling more than a little naughty at the direction which
her thoughts were taking.
“You might consider me a priest of sorts, or perhaps just a man with a holy vow.” He shrugged slightly as if uncomfortable with her sudden regard. “The people of
my temple swear to protect and defend those that are without aid. We are not of those that guide others in prayer though.”
Oh dear Lord. He sounded as if he were a sworn knight, or something of that nature. While she was trying to digest this mind-boggling concept, she was distracted
by the slight of his thumb slowly caressing her cross. “I would ask you about this one.” He rumbled. “It looks to be a violent and terrible end, but you do not seem
to be one to worship death.” She could see he was trying not to frown.
Grim was looking with interest at the small figure in Jalhar’s hand. “Hmmm, that necklace is interesting. I have not seen that metal before, but the silver figurine is
not quite correct. The artist got the nails wrong,” he mused aloud. “If you put them up that high on the hand, they just tear through the flesh.” He tapped his lips
in thought. “They must have not disliked him overly much—they did not put the bar across the back to increase the torture.” He pointed to the tiny wound in the
side. “And they finished him off instead of leaving him to rot slowly.”
“They did place the bar across the back.” She found herself speaking automatically and congratulated herself on the false calm of her voice. To speak so surely
of the matter! A dreadful suspicion began forming in her mind. “I take it you are rather familiar with this type of punishment?” she heard herself observe from a far
distance, waiting with dread
for the answer.
“Both ends of it—unfortunately.” Grim’s tone was perfectly even, almost light, but she could see the rigidity of his face as he rubbed his covered wrists as if to
banish a remembered pain.
“Oh my God…” She forced herself to stop the rest of the words. What was there to say? Sorry? Who tried to kill you, and by the way, who did you happen to piss off
enough to make them want to torture you to death? Her mind shrank from the task of making crucifixion small talk. Her head ached at the very thought. Theology
on top of basic chemistry and physics was becoming more than a bit overwhelming.
A small chime from her computer announced it was finished with the full system check. Both Jalhar and Grim jumped, peering at the small laptop suspiciously.
Smiling in relief at the distraction, she gently placed Jalhar’s necklace back in his hand and retrieved her own medals from him. “I am sure we can talk for years
on the many aspects of religion, though it is not generally considered a safe or polite subject on my world. I will say this though, that symbol is not about death.”
She caressed the cross briefly. “but life.”
“Well and good.” Grim’s face looked vaguely discomfited, perhaps by the memories she now knew he held. “You both can talk philosophy and religion to your
heart’s content later.” He gestured to the laptop with the hand bearing the now flamingly bright stone. “Now explain that.”
She sighed. All traces of the easy going Grim were gone, and the ease at which he gave orders to her in front of her supposed protector told her more about his
personal power in this place than all of his flowery explanations.