He stared up at her, fear plain on his face, his fear crawling along Jasmine’s body. She enjoyed his fear, enjoyed making him suffer.

Lisbeth said, “He’s afraid of you.”

“I know.”

“I been good,” William said. “I done everything you told me to. Why should I be punished? What’d I do wrong?”

“Oh,” said Lisbeth, “he’s so afraid.” She walked closer to the bed, and he shrank back from her, eyes shifting from Jasmine to this new little girl.

“I’m not here to punish you, William. I want you to help me.”

“Anything, anything you want, Dr. Cooper. You just name it.”

Lisbeth reached for him, and he jerked away as if she had burned him.

“Did you enjoy William’s dream, Lisbeth?”

“Oh, yes, it was great.”

“Would you like to see another?”

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Lisbeth turned, eyes shining, genuinely excited. “Oh, please, yes.”

Jasmine nodded. “She’s yours, William.”

“Wh-what!” he gasped.

“It’s the girl that needs punishing, not you. I’m giving her to you.”

“You can’t scare me,” Lisbeth said.

“Is she real?” he asked.

“Very.”

“You think threatening me with him will scare me. It won’t. I can make him disappear.”

“I control this dream, Lisbeth.”

William grabbed her wrist. She turned, completely confident that she would destroy him. Jasmine held William’s mind and protected it.

The first trickle of fear rose out of Lisbeth. Fear for herself. She struggled to get her hand free. “You won’t let him hurt me. You’re not bad. Only bad girls let people get hurt.” The fear was still in check, because she believed what she said. Jasmine was a teacher, a doctor, an adult, and would not really hurt a child.

“I’m not a good girl, Lisbeth, never have been.”

William dragged her against his chest. “NO!” Lisbeth yelled it, anger still stronger than fear. “You can’t scare me. You can’t make me behave. I’m not like the other children.”

“No,” Jasmine said, “you are not, and neither was I.” Jasmine vanished from the dream, leaving Lisbeth to the man’s tender mercies. She did not want to see it happen, but she was drawn to feel it. Fear at last, full-blown and wonderful. Lisbeth terrified. Lisbeth feeling the only thing she could feel, her own pain. Dr. Jasmine Cooper hovered on the edge of the dream and fed off the fear, the lust, the horror. She drank the sweet breath of evil, and it filled her up. Jasmine, like the child, not only was attracted to darkness but fed off it.

She broke the dream before William was finished but long after Lisbeth had begun to cry. Jasmine woke and went down the dark hallways to Lisbeth’s room. She opened the door to find the child gasping and sweat-soaked. She cringed when she saw Jasmine.

“You’re like me, aren’t you? You’re like me.”

“Yes, Lisbeth, I’m like you.” Jasmine sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I don’t want to be punished anymore.”

“Then you’ve learned your first lesson. I’ll show you how to stay alive, Lisbeth. They won’t kill you now, not if you let me teach you.” Jasmine leaned close to the child, whispering so the monitor wouldn’t hear her, “I’ll show you how to feed off them, so that they don’t know. You can do what you like with them within limits. You can torture and get paid for it.”

Lisbeth’s breathing had slowed to almost normal. “You are just like me.”

Jasmine nodded and reached a hand out to the child. Lisbeth came to her, small arms hugging her. They sat together in the dark, holding each other. Lisbeth couldn’t love, not really. But every child needs love, whether they can give it or not.

“You won’t leave me?” Lisbeth asked in a small voice.

“I won’t leave you. You can come visit me during holidays.”

“You’re still afraid of me, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“But now I’m afraid of you.”

“Yes.”

The child leaned her back against Jasmine, small hands holding the woman’s arms around her. Every child needs to be held.

She rested her chin on top of Lisbeth’s head, and rocked her gently, comforting herself as much as the child. From one monster to another, Jasmine thought, I’ll show you how to stay alive. I’ll show you how to drink tears and spill blood. We’ll carve them up and feed off their fear, and no one will know but us.

Jasmine glanced up at the room’s monitor. Are you there, Bromley? she thought, are you there? Maybe he knew, maybe he had always known. Why did you keep me alive, Bromley? Why?

She hugged Lisbeth, and felt the first hot trails of tears on her own cheeks. Jasmine whispered into the child’s hair, “Monsters beware, here be dragons.”

WINTERKILL

This story, like the Sidra and Leech stories and “A Token for Celandine,” is set in the world of Nightseer. The main character is an assassin, and like Edward in the Anita books, Jessa found that killing ordinary humans was too easy. She kills only wizards. This story shows some of her origins, and that you really can’t go home again.

JESSAMINE Swordwitch stood among the ruins of Threllkill village. The forest had moved in to reclaim the small clearing. Twenty houses it had been at its largest, a tiny inconsequential place, but it had been home.

One of her mother’s roses had gone wild. It climbed over the broken chimney, pale pink flowers clustered against the sun. The air was thick with its scent, cloying sweet. The black-limbed cherry still stood against the shattered pile that had once been the garden wall.

Jessamine felt her mother’s magic pulse through the wild growth. An earth-witch’s touches stayed with the plot of land. Mother would not have minded that an orange-flowered trumpet vine strangled her garden or that wild grass grew where she had tended her strawberries.

The thought that her mother’s body could still be there, hidden in the green growth, came suddenly. She caught her breath, eyes darting for a glimpse of white bone amidst the wilding strawberries. But there was nothing left of her mother save the roses and the cherry tree. Scavengers had long since picked apart the bones. Twelve years was a long time this close to the forest.

“What happened here, Jessa?”

She jumped, startled, and turned. Gregoor leaned against a soft green mound that had once been a part of the kitchen. “I’m sorry, my thoughts were elsewhere.”

He snorted. “I could see that.” He gestured, arms wide. “What destroyed this place?”

“Old age, an act of the gods.”

He frowned and crossed arms tight over his chest. “Are you going to tell me the story behind this place or not? You drag me out to the wilderness. Tell me nothing. You accept a job without consulting me and then tell me I don’t have to come along.” He pushed a hand through his short brown hair. “Jessa, we’ve been swordmates for a year. Don’t I deserve some type of explanation?”

She smiled at that and walked over to stand against the leaf-covered wall, beside him. Her hazel eyes looked at a place somewhere over his head, while her strong, small hands stroked his hair. “In Zairde there are no peasants, only the poor. We were poor, but I didn’t know that as a child. We had food, shelter, toys, love. I did not think we were poor, but we were not rich. My mother was the village earth-witch. She never used her magic for personal gain or to harm, unless attacked. Even then she was squeamish of the kill. She wouldn’t understand my entombing people in living rock.”

“You’ve only done so twice, and both times it saved our lives.”

She smiled down at him. “Yes, there is that. But I stand here with my mother’s magic still strong in the earth and I shield myself.”

“Why?”

“I’m afraid, Gregoor.” The summer wind stirred her dark hair. “I promised my mother I would never use my power for evil. I have broken that promise many times.”

“You’re afraid her disapproving ghost will haunt you.”

“Yes.”

“Jessa.” He hugged her to him. “Please tell me what happened here.”

“One day an old sorcerer and his son came to spend the night. I had never seen a truly old sorcerer, for they can live a thousand years. But this one was old. His son was young and strong and handsome; the village girls watched him out the corners of their eyes. During the night the old sorcerer died.” Jessamine’s hands stopped moving. She stood absolutely still. “The son accused us of poisoning his father. He destroyed our village with fire and lightning, storm and earthquake. My father and my brothers were all killed. When it was over, only my mother and I crawled away.”




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