Dreamsnake by Vonda D. McIntyre Read Free Book Online Page A

anything, I guess.” She took
one last sip of wine and returned the flask. Merideth, reaching for it, suddenly
hiccupped, then, blushing, stoppered the bottle instead of drinking.
    “Wine affects me too easily. I should never use it.”
    “At least you know. You probably never make a fool of yourself.”
    “When I was younger—” Merideth laughed at memories. “I was foolish then, and
poor as well. A bad combination.”
    “I can think of better.”
    “Now we’re rich, and I’m perhaps a little less foolish. But what good is it
all, healer? Money can’t help Jesse. Nor wisdom.”
    “You’re right,” Snake said. “They can’t help her, and neither can I. Only you
and Alex can.”
    “I know it.” Merideth’s voice was soft and sad. “But it will take Jesse a
long time to get used to that.”
    “She’s alive, Merideth. The accident came so close to killing her—isn’t it
enough to be grateful for, that she’s alive?”
    “To me, yes, it is.” The words had begun to slur. “But you don’t know Jesse.
Where she’s from, why she’s here—” Merideth stared groggily at Snake,
hesitating, then plunging ahead. “She’s here because she can’t stand to be
trapped. Before we were together, she was rich and powerful and safe. But her
whole life and all her work were planned out for her. She would have been one of
the rulers of Center—”
    “The city!”
    “Yes, it was all hers, if she wanted it. But she didn’t want to live under a
stone sky. She came outside with nothing. To make her own destiny. To be free.
Now— the things she enjoys most will be beyond her. How can I tell her to be
glad she’s alive, when she knows she’ll never walk on the desert again, or find
me a diamond for some patron’s earring, never gentle another horse, never make
love?”
    “I don’t know,” Snake said. “But if you and Alex see her life as a tragedy,
that’s what it will be.”
     
    Just before dawn the heat eased slightly, but as soon as it grew light the
temperature rose again. The camp was in deep shade, but even in the protection
of the rock walls the heat was like a pressure.
    Alex snored and Merideth slept peacefully near him, oblivious to the sound,
one strong hand curled over Alex’s back. Snake lay on the tent floor, facedown,
arms outstretched. The fine fibers in the pile of the rug prickled softly
against her cheek, damp with her sweat. Her hand throbbed but she could not
sleep, and she did not have the energy to rouse herself.
    She drifted into a dream in which Arevin appeared. She could see him more
clearly than she could remember him when she was awake. It was a curious dream,
childishly chaste. She barely touched Arevin’s fingertips, and then he began to
fade away. Snake reached for him desperately. She woke up throbbing with sexual
tension, her heart racing.
    Jesse stirred. For a moment Snake did not move, then, reluctantly, she raised
herself. She glanced at the other two partners. Alex slept soundly with the
momentary forgetfulness of youth, but sheer weariness lined Merideth’s face and
sweat plastered down the shiny, black curls. Snake left Merideth and Alex alone
and knelt by Jesse, who lay face down as they last had turned her, her cheek
resting on one hand, her other hand shielding her eyes.
    She’s feigning sleep, Snake thought, for the line of her arm, the curl of her
fingers, showed not relaxation but tension. Or wishing it, like me. Both of us
would like to sleep, sleep and ignore reality.
    “Jesse,” she said softly, and again, “Jesse, please.”
    Jesse sighed and let her hand fall to the sheet.
    “There’s broth here when you feel strong enough to drink it. And wine, if
you’d like.”
    A barely perceptible shake of the head, though Jesse’s lips were dry. Snake
would not allow her to become dehydrated, but she did not want to have to argue
her into eating, either.
    “It’s no good,” Jesse said.
    “Jesse—”
    Jesse