set it in the top of her bag. Time enough later to unspell it so it could be organized more easily.
"He's too far," she said.
"What do you mean?" asked Kors, who still hadn't noticed that Isfain was now immobile because of her magic. He didn't know what she was.
"Have you ever seen a Guardian released from the foundrael?" she asked. "It's not bad if they haven't been upset - but your Isfain precluded that."
"Mother," said Jes sadly.
She nodded. "I know. Lehr will keep her from harm, but that is your job. To protect your family."
"Yes," he said.
She turned to Kors. "If I were you I'd leave this tent, so that you aren't the first thing he sees when he's free."
She'd given him warning enough. If he didn't choose to follow... she relaxed as she heard him leave. Really, Kors wasn't a bad sort.
"All right, Jes, I'm going to take this thing off."
She reached up, but he caught her hands. "Can't. Benroln said only him."
"Well," Hennea said. "I'm not as powerful as your mother, Jes, but I have spent a long time studying. I think I know how to take the blasted thing off. I'll not lie to you, there is some danger - but not as much as leaving it on."
"To me," he said, catching her hands before she could touch the foundrael. "Not you."
"Only to you," she lied, but she'd had a lot of practice lying and it came out like the truth.
He let her set her hands on the soft band around his neck. The leather was soft and new-looking, as if it had been tanned yesterday instead of centuries ago. That made it easier, because she knew which one it was.
"No," he said, pulling her hands away again.
"It's all right," she said.
"No," Jes said again. "The Guardian will kill the big man. That would be bad. He thinks that killing would be very bad for us. Killing is bad, but he would have no choice. He is very angry."
Hennea considered him. Everyone had a tendency, she thought, to ignore the daylight Jes in their fear of the Guardian. Oh, Seraph loved him in either guise, but she treated him with the same indulgence and discipline that she treated their dog and the others followed her example.
Jes, thought Hennea, was more than just a disguise where the Guardian resided. Impulsively she put her hand, still clasped loosely by his, on his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned against it, moving so the light stubble, new-grown since his shaving this morning, prickled her fingers.
He was just a boy, she thought, uncomfortable with the instant response his innocently sensual gesture had called from her.
He might be right about killing. The Order of the Eagle came only to people who were empathic, a rare gift and usually weak. If Jes were a strong enough empath, killing might very well be enough to damage him.
"The Guardian won't calm until we take it off, Jes. He'll just feel worse and worse," she said, though she didn't move her hand from his face. "The longer we wait the more difficult it will be."
He nodded, but didn't open his eyes. "He's so angry," he said. Dark lashes brushed her fingertips, and she shivered.
He looked at her then, his eyes dark and hungry. "You could make him not angry," said Jes. "He likes you, too. Kiss me."
His suggestion startled her. She'd never heard of anyone trying something like this. Likely because only an idiot would think of kissing an angry Guardian.
Her lips were still canted in a smile when they touched his. It was an innocent kiss at first, because he called that from her - though not without arousal. His lips were a little chafed, and the rough surface scraped hers in butterfly-wing caresses.
She could feel him tense when her hands touched his neck again, so she opened her mouth to nip lightly at his lips, distracting him from what she did.
It distracted her, too - but not so much that she fumbled the Unlocking.
As soon as she finished, fear washed through the tent like a flash flood, taking her breath with its strength. She dug her fingers into Jes's shoulders, which had turned to iron. But he didn't fight her as she held him to her and touched his lips with her tongue.
Fear had driven away the embarrassment she felt at seducing him, but it hadn't erased the desire he called from her. When he took charge of the kiss, she softened for