Read Online Dawn of the Flame Sea by Jean Johnson - Free Book Online Page B

to allow them to remain. To integrate them into our outer stronghold. We will be able to question them directly about their world, in exchange for food.
If
they can eat it,” she amended, looking at the beds. “Not all of these are planted yet, nor will they be for a while. I want to talk with the natives about what local plants and such are edible by their standards, and have simply made enough places to start growing what
they
can eat.”
    â€œA wise choice,” Jintaya agreed, though she sighed as she said it. “I would much rather have started by observing from afar, testing carefully and living secretly until we knew more, but that choice was lost to us.”
    â€œWe are here, and they are here, and we know about each other,” Rua pointed out pragmatically, returning her attention to the bin of dry soil—local soil, Jintaya realized—which she was mixing with water and dead bits of plant matter to hopefully get it to mulch while waiting for word on what could be grown. Ban came down from the stepping ladder and scooped up another bucket of the prepared stuff from the wettest end of the bin while Rua continued. “Speaking of which, when shall we meet them?”
    â€œÃ‰fan has awakened the other four from their labors. They are still remarkably well, though their use of this world’s magic must be studied in more depth. Today we will all rest,” she said. “Tomorrow we will clean ourselves, dress nicely, and go visit the natives. We will introduce ourselves politely, in the hopes that they will be equally polite, and learn what we can of this world.”
    Her gaze flicked to Ban, who was not in the least bit perturbed by her pointed phrasing. “I am always polite, Jintaya.” At her arched brow, he added smoothly, “It is still very much a part of the word
impolite
.”
    Chuckling, she lifted her hand to his cheek, cupping his tanned jaw. “My Ban, you are the greatest treasure I have found, in all the worlds that yet exist.”
    Eyes closing, he turned his face into her touch, not quite kissing the edge of her palm. Letting her fingers slide free after a long moment, Jintaya studied the cavern. The way he felt for her, and she for him, was complex even by Fae standards. It was better to let it unfold at its own pace; her race lived many centuries, barring injuries, and he would outlive even her. A fact she knew troubled him. So she focused on the planting beds. “Are the beds wrought from stone? Did Kaife do the work?”
    â€œNo, I did,” Rua told her. She straightened and tucked a strand of her long, goldenrod hair behind an ear, ignoring the fact she streaked more dirt on it. Her outfit of fitted knee-length shorts and sleeveless tunic were equally dirty, but the agriculturist did not care. Rubbing the small of her back with one hand, she eyed the ranks of tiered, tilted cultivation beds and rolled her other hand. “The local aether . . . It feels very good to work magic on this world. Particularly when those little light-balls come to you and fill you with warmth and vigor. But that was just for the tier frames. I could also mix the soil via spells, but . . .”
    â€œYou prefer getting your hands dirty,” Jintaya agreed, smiling. “I shall leave you to it, but as soon as this particular task is done, you should rest—both of you. Thank you, Ban, for helping Rua.”
    He dipped his head in acknowledgment, then watched her turn and leave. Rua glanced between the two of them, but she kept her thoughts to herself. Jintaya was Fae; Ban was Shae, an outworlder. Such pairings were often complicated and best left alone to work out—or not to work out.
    To the agriculture specialist, Ban was a fellow member of the pantean, the expedition, and though he was not always sociable, he pulled his own weight. He didn’t talk much, but he worked as hard as the others. That was good enough for her.