Free Enchanted Ever After (Mystic Circle) by Robin D. Owens Page A

with gold “embroidery” of fiber optic filaments or
something. Kiri narrowed her eyes, then blinked. It looked like the pattern
might be almost a mathematical algorithm—or, in a different game, a spell—and
the design lit up.
    “I thought we were going to have another interview?” Kiri said
weakly, looking at Lathyr.
    “That’s so stuffy,” Jenni said.
    It was stuffy.
    “What’s wrong?” asked Jenni.
    Kiri grimaced. “The gloves and visor might interfere with my
play.” She swallowed. “I really don’t want to screw this up.” It meant too much
to her.
    Lathyr set the visor down and stripped off the gloves. He held
out both hands. “I am a good judge of energy. I am sure I can reassure you that
you belong here. Please?”
    Kiri stared, cut her eyes to Jenni, questioning this new age
stuff. The woman looked bland, so Kiri shrugged and put her hands in his. Yes,
tingles, for sure. And the texture of his palms and his fingers was so smooth,
but there was strength in those hands. Nice.
    “Pregame visualization exercise,” Jenni said. “Close your eyes
and visualize—ah—the Fairy Dome in Fairies and Dragons.”
    Kiri shot her a glance. “You take the game very seriously.”
    “Well, of course. It’s my livelihood. An attitude I expect from
you.”
    Kiri closed her eyes, recalled the Fairy Dome, tried to bring
it into focus. She’d always sucked at visualization except right before and
right after she slept.
    She became all too aware of Lathyr, his hands, the closeness of
his body to hers, as if energy cycled between them. Scents came to her nose, a
hot and spicy smell, a fresh odor reminding her of the ocean—Lathyr’s
aftershave? Eyes shut, she felt the atmosphere in
the room...fancifully enough, she thought that Jenni’s and Lathyr’s energy
clashed, did not mix well. Kiri realized her breathing matched Lathyr’s, slow
and deep. Her ears strained...trying to hear the hum of the computers...no, she
was too used to her barely up-to-date equipment at work. Not the tiniest buzz of
fans, but she was right, the room was warm and getting warmer. In fact, the
tingles within her seemed to also press against her skin, as if she were
immersed in fizzy water. Fun, energizing. She stifled a giggle.
    Lathyr released her hands and stepped back. Her eyelids flew
open and she smiled at him, only to see he’d moved and was leaning over Jenni,
speaking quietly. He glanced up at her, nodded, then said, “You will do
well.”
    When he returned to talking to Jenni, all Kiri’s doubts swarmed
back, despite his assurance. Jenni had indicated that it was Lathyr who had
decided—or would decide—whether Kiri was a good fit, hadn’t she? She wished
they’d done this earlier and in a conference room or something, not where she
was supposed to work.
    Stiffly, Kiri walked over to the long desk, noted that the edge
wasn’t squared off, but rounded, lovely. Scanning the gloves—twelve pairs in
various sizes and colors—she went with impulse and chose a pair of pretty pale
green ones that looked to be her size. She pulled them on—they felt like the
finest chamois, and again her hands tingled. The metallic silver embroidery
glittered, nearly seemed to spark. Wow. She chose a visor she thought would fit,
but didn’t put it on. And she sat in the chair, turned on the monitor.
    A rainbow-colored word appeared in flowing pastel script. Transformation! Frowning, tugging on the wrists of her
gloves, she looked over at Lathyr and Jenni, who watched her.
    “Yes?” asked Jenni. Kiri thought the woman hid a smile. Maybe
that should relieve her, but it didn’t much.
    “I’ve heard there are some biofeedback games out there,” Kiri
said. She flexed her fingers; the gloves clung, almost massaged her hands. Felt
good, but she’d definitely miss a keyboard. Obviously, she wasn’t as flexible as
she’d thought. Not a good thing to consider when she was on the job interview of
her life. Not when she wanted to be on the