Sebastian

most dangerous landscapes in Ephemera.
    Nigelle frowned. Why had he chosen her? If these places were so dangerous and had to be guarded to keep people from stumbling into them, why hadn't he asked one of the stronger Landscapers for help?
    Why… ?
    She looked at the garden in front of the patch of grass she stood on. Directly in front of her was a path that ended at the back wall, separating two of the secret landscapes. To her left, hidden by two shrubs and a bed of tall summer flowers, was a patch of rust-colored sand fanning out from the corner. To her right, also fanning out from the corner, was a pool of murky water. Not deep. Even though he'd warned her to stay away from it, she'd used a stick as a measuring rod one day, so she knew it was barely up to her knees.
    She'd never seen anyone create a space in a garden that could hold water without enclosing it on all sides to create a small pond.
    Can Belladonna do something like that?
    She banished the thought. She didn't like thinking about Belladonna anymore. And the other day, when he'd asked her about the sealed gardens, she'd told him about Belladonna, the rogue Landscaper who had escaped from the Justice Makers' magic. But when she'd said she intended to be a Landscaper like Belladonna, he'd gotten the strangest look on his face and murmured, "Perhaps you're not what I thought you were."
    He left soon after that, and she hadn't seen him since.
    She turned in a slow circle, her eyes scanning every part of her garden. He had to come today. He had to.
    Then he was there, appearing on the path in front of her, a handsome, middle-aged man who was carrying a small sack and wearing nothing but a smile.
    He pulled her down on the grass, began pulling at her clothes.
    "Let me have you," he said, his dark eyes glittering with a feverish excitement. "Let me fill you."
    She tried to protest. This was crude. Not at all like him. She didn't like this, even felt…

    "Yes," he said as he rolled on top of her and thrust into her. "Yes, fear is good. Delicious. Intoxicating."
    Then he kissed her. She closed her eyes while that flood of heat and need filled her until all she could think of was having him inside her so she could keep feeling this way.
    But things didn't feel… right. Her breasts felt enclosed by strange mouths that had a dozen little tongues that rasped the delicate skin and sensitized nipples. Painful. And yet she couldn't bear to have it stop.
    And he didn't feel right inside her. Too thick. Too long. Each thrust hurt her, but the pleasure was also building and building and…
    When she crested, she felt a sting on her shoulder, as if he'd bitten her. Moments later her arms and legs went numb. She couldn't move them, could barely move her fingers enough to scratch at the grass.
    Then she crested again—and didn't care.
    Still unbearably excited, she opened her eyes. When had he put on that strange cowl that stuck out at the sides and came down so low it shadowed his face? Eyes gleamed at her, and when he smiled…
    Something wrong with his mouth. What was wrong with his mouth?
    Didn't matter. Nothing mattered except him, because he was still moving inside her.
    As she crested the third time, she felt him spill inside her and relax. She gasped for air, trying to form words to ask him to move. When he shifted slightly, the salty sweat on his skin burned her raw breasts.
    One of his hands clamped down over her mouth before she could draw a full breath. The other hand fumbled inside the sack he'd dropped beside them.
    He held the long, thin knife up where she could see it. Then he raised himself up enough to make a slice across her chest just above her breasts.
    "Yes," he said, slicing her arm open from shoulder to elbow, "fear is delicious. It will soak into this ground with your blood. Do you know what will happen then?" He smiled at her. "Since this is an access point, the fear will seep through this grass into the pasture it is anchored to. Then it will shiver into anyone who walks through that pasture, and as the fear takes root, those people will be open to the Dark Guides'
    whispers. Things will happen. Small things at first. But each choice that comes from the dark feelings will make a tiny change in the landscape. And the fear will grow, like a weed among flowers, creating fertile ground for even darker feelings. You will be a seed that helps dim the Light."
    No! No no no!
    He laughed softly. "Isn't that what you wanted? Isn't that why you opened the