Obsidian Prey

Chapter 8

"FORGIVE ME FOR SPEAKING OF PERSONAL MATTERS, Lyra." Master Quinn smiled his gentle smile. "I cannot help but notice that you seem increasingly uncentered lately. I sense that something is making it difficult for you to find the harmonic balance within."

The last of the meditation students was leaving the studio. Lyra finished rolling up her mat and stuffed it into her gym bag.

"I know I haven't been a great student," she said. "I can't seem to concentrate properly. Things have been somewhat hectic lately."

Quinn nodded somberly. "I saw the morning papers. The head of Amber Inc. Security asked you to assist in a rescue mission at the ruin that you discovered a few months ago. I'm surprised you agreed to help."

"Not like I had much choice." She crouched to zip up the bag. "There were several people trapped inside. Amber Inc. didn't have anyone else available who could de-rez the entrance."

"I understand. It was a generous and charitable action on your part. But I suspect that now that AI knows that you are the only one they can call on to work that amethyst amber, they will request more and more assistance from you."

"They can ask, but my answer will be no."

"I hope for your sake that you will find the strength to refuse."

The concern in his quiet voice startled her. She rose slowly to her feet.

"Why do you say that?"

He did not respond immediately. Instead, he watched her for a long moment. She wondered uneasily what he saw.

"I hesitate to say anything more," he said finally. "It is not my place. My job is to provide guidance to you as you seek balance and harmony in your life. But you are my student, and I have a responsibility toward you. I feel I must warn you."

A chill swept through her not unlike the sensation she got when one of the nightmares struck. She gripped the handle of the gym bag tightly.

"If you intend to warn me not to get any more involved with Amber Inc., don't worry," she said. "I realize that would be asking for trouble."

"It is not just your renewed association with Cruz Sweetwater and his family firm that makes me uneasy." Quinn walked to the high windows on one wall of the studio. He clasped his hands behind his back and contemplated the view of the Dead City wall. "It is the escalating energy of disharmony I perceive in your aura that worries me. Once again I apologize for intruding, but are you feeling well, Lyra?"

She was afraid to breathe. If Quinn could sense that something was happening to her, something that affected her mind and her perception of reality, maybe she had an even bigger problem than she thought. But damned if she would admit it to anyone, including Quinn. At least, not yet. There was still a possibility that she was just suffering from stress. Also an excellent possibility that I'm in complete denial, she thought.

But she could not get past the fact that, except for those harrowing moments when the nightmares enveloped her, she felt normal. Well, as normal as she ever had. Of course, crazy people usually thought they were normal, too. Take Grandpa, for instance, she thought sadly.

Arthur Dore had spent his last years obsessed with finding various and assorted legendary lost amber claims. He had spent all of his money on phony treasure maps and fake journals purporting to contain the secret locations of fabled mines of rare and exotic amber. In the end he had died penniless. She had been the only one at his bedside. She'd had to dig into her own small savings account to pay for the funeral.

Her grandfather had been a gruff, disappointed, unhappy man, but in his own way, he had loved her. And he had taught her a few things, one of which was the importance of keeping her secrets.

"I'm all right, Master Quinn," she said politely. "I appreciate your concern, but I'm in excellent health. Really."

"I was not referring to your physical health." Quinn did not take his eyes off the emerald towers. "It is the state of your psychic well-being that worries me. I can see that you do not wish to discuss it, and that is most certainly your prerogative. But I sense that whatever is going on within you is linked to your talent. The harmonic imbalance in your aura this morning is worse than usual."

"Please don't worry about me, sir."

"Have you considered the possibility that working that amethyst amber last night might have exacerbated the problem?"

"I don't have a problem," she said briskly. "I'm just a little tired and stressed out. Got home late. Didn't get enough sleep. Didn't have time for breakfast. What with one thing and another, I probably am out of whack this morning, harmonically speaking. Nothing another cup of strong coffee can't fix."

He turned back to her, his expression serene, as always. He smiled his wise smile again. "You owe me no explanations or apologies. I have said enough. You are entitled to your privacy. I will merely add that if you ever decide that you need some guidance of a more private nature than what I can offer in a group class, I hope you will feel that you can come to me."

The hair lifted on the nape of her neck.

"Uh, thank you," she said.

Good grief. Was Master Quinn suggesting what she thought he was suggesting? Was he coming on to her?

No, of course not. It was just her imagination. He was a Harmonic Meditation guru, for goodness' sake.

That was the problem with having once been burned by a Sweetwater. You started seeing every man as a potential fire hazard.

Clutching the gym bag, she hurried out the door and down the stairs.