Obsidian Prey by Jayne Castle Page B

iridescent wings flitted from blossom to blossom.
    “You like it down here, don’t you?” Cruz asked.
    “Who wouldn’t?” she said. “It’s an astonishing experience. I’m so glad the Guild has begun to allow some tourism. Everyone should have the opportunity to see this place. It’s one of the wonders of our world, like the mountains and the oceans and the forests on the surface. No one has a right to monopolize the rain forest.”
    “In principle I agree with you,” Cruz said. “The problems, as usual, are in the details. People get killed down here. The jungle is dangerous.”
    “So are mountains and oceans and forests. But people go hiking, swimming, and camping all the time on the surface. And sometimes they get killed.”
    “Okay, I’ll concede there are a few parallels,” he said.
    “The only real difference down here is that access is limited to those who possess the kind of psychic talent it takes to open a gate. Since most people don’t have the ability to do that, the Guilds have been able to maintain some control. But they are fighting a rear guard action.”
    “I know,” Cruz said. “At the rate talents are appearing in the population, it probably won’t be long before the majority of people will be able to open a jungle gate. Another couple of generations, maybe.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” she said cheerfully. “I’m sure Amber Inc. won’t have any difficulty hanging on to its mining monopoly down here, just as it hasn’t had a problem hanging on to it aboveground.”
    “We’ll certainly do our best,” Cruz said.
    She knew that if she glanced back over her shoulder, she would see the unmistakable spark of dark humor in his eyes, so she concentrated instead on pushing through a veil of hanging orchids.
    Something small and green darted along a tree limb. Vincent’s little paws tightened slightly around Lyra’s shoulder. His second set of eyes, the ones he used for hunting, popped open. He studied the small rodent with great interest.
    “Uh-oh,” she said.
    “Hey, you hang out with predators, you’re going to see some blood once in a while,” Cruz observed.
    She recalled her words to Nancy earlier that evening. He looks like a really well-dressed hit man.
    “Yes,” she said. “I have noticed the blood.”
    There was a short silence behind her.
    “I was talking about dust bunnies,” Cruz said finally.
    “Oh, were you?”
    Thankfully, the small creature on the tree limb disappeared into a tangle of leaves, and Vincent lost interest.
    Twenty minutes later, she sensed the faint aura of energy that emanated from the chamber before it came into view. Vincent picked up on her anticipation and made enthusiastic noises. She was breathing hard, and her shirt was soaked with perspiration, but her spirits lifted immediately.
    She had always had an affinity for amber of any kind, but the purple variety called amethyst was her specialty. It sang to her senses in a way that no other version of the stone did.
    Amethyst amber was one of the extremely rare forms of the stone. But until the discovery of the ruin, it had not been viewed as valuable except to collectors of rare ambers and to those who liked amethyst jewelry.
    The relics that she had found inside the ruin had caused the experts to reconsider that analysis, however. It was evident that there was a lot of latent energy in the artifacts. The problem for the Amber Inc. lab experts was accessing that energy. They badly needed someone who could work amethyst amber to aid them with their testing and experiments. Such individuals had proven to be scarce. To date, the only person they had found who could resonate with the energy in the relics was a stubborn, low-rent tuner who had steadfastly refused to cooperate.
    “Almost there,” one of the Guild men called back to the sweating trekkers behind him.
    A few minutes later they walked into the small clearing that the hunters had established around the amethyst chamber. A half