One with a soul I'm growing to admire more and more. Yes, some of what he says chafes, but there's a bone-deep honor to the man that just can't be denied. Just like now.
I can feel his arousal, catching a brief glimpse that confirms it as he settles into the water. That brief glimpse alone makes my breath catch. But he controls himself—much better than I do, to be honest. He doesn't stare at me or move closer. He remains a respectful distance away. Too respectful of a distance.
I didn't think he'd be able to sneak back under my skin once I set my mind to duty, but I feel my control slipping away as we both linger in the cool sanctuary of the pool. I find myself drifting closer to his warmth, despite knowing it isn't a smart idea. I really shouldn't open that door again. It's so difficult to close, but I can't seem to help myself.
I see his shoulders tense as he realizes I'm moving closer deliberately, not just drifting. I can feel his hesitation as I near. I lick my lips, feeling a touch of nerves.
"Why haven't you taken a mate, Bashir?" I ask in a low tone, the intimacy of the place asking for hushed voices. It's a forward question and a leading one, one I wouldn't have had the gall to ask had we not been alone, cocooned in this dim place. He licks his lips as he turns slightly towards me.
"I can only mate the right woman," he answers, his tone also low. Slightly rough.
I feel the warmth inside me grow at the texture of it. How can I resist the sweetness of that response? He shifts a little, accidentally brushing my nipples with his arm beneath the water. A hiss of pleasure escapes me at the grazing touch. He stills again at the sound, his own breathing accelerating.
I shouldn't do this, but I know I'm going to anyway. Swallowing, I lean even closer until my chest brushes against him again.
His eyes search mine as he finally moves closer to me himself, close enough to kiss. My breasts flatten slightly against his hard chest as his muscled arms come up to wrap around me. Slow and careful, watching for any signs of retreat on my part even though I'm the one who instigated this.
When I don't shift back, don't shy away from his touch, he sighs, and closes the distance between our mouths. His lips are soft, gentle, almost reverent as he kisses me, explores me slowly, carefully, not pushing too hard. But even that gentle touch has me heating up, wanting more, wanting that tender mouth on even more sensitive places.
But he draws back before I want him to, his cheeks flushed as he searches my face, his eyes soft and hot.
"You are the sweetest fruit I have ever tasted, Penelope," he whispers, brushing my hair back from my face.
I feel myself blush at the compliment. I don't know why, but it makes me feel more vulnerable than the kiss.
He frowns.
"Why do you blush? Why do you fear your power as a woman?" His hand slides down to cover my lower abdomen, his hand easily spanning the space between my hipbones, reminding me just how big our size difference is even though I'm a tall woman. "It is woman who makes life possible," he murmurs, his gaze sincere.
Makes life possible? I have a flash of an image. Me, pregnant and barefoot. Shoved into the role of a breeder. The seductive mood dissolves instantly. That isn't me, but that's obviously what Bashir thinks of me. What he wants from a woman.
I slide out of his hold, giving him a gentle smile.
"I think I'm done bathing," I say politely as I turn and walk out of the water, trying not to think of the view I'm presenting him with. It's the best I can do. I have to distance myself from him. From his idea of what I should be.
Chapter Eight
Bashir
I am at a loss as Penelope leaves my side and walks out of the spring, her feminine silhouette backlit by the light streaming through some of the cracks in the shelter. Another rush of heat flows through me.
She is not far from me physically, but the mental distance leaves a decided chill. I must have said something she did not like. Before I spoke, she was soft and pliant in my arms, wanted me as much as I wanted her. I am sure of it. But now...
The air between us is odd. More uncomfortable than two people who just touched so intimately should be.
"Is everything...fine?" I venture when she does not speak another word, continuing in utter silence while time drags its feet.
"Yes," she says briefly, in a too-neutral voice as she moves over to our travel bags.
I do not like this. The way she left the water, her demeanor now. Her inner warrior does not combat me as furiously as it did previously, but she is also much more silent than I like. Something is wrong; that is clear. She clearly does not want to speak of it, and I promised myself I would not push.
She takes out a small vial of oil and pours a bit of it into her hand. I have watched her hands hold a writing tool, a knife to chop vegetables, a water jug—but now I am mesmerized. My eyes follow her slim hands as she rubs the oil between them and smooths it into the skin of her long legs, leaving them gleaming.
My heart beating quickly, I turn fully away from temptation. I cannot watch her like this and remain distant, so I will not look. I will wait until she comes to me.
I take a deep breath. I may as well get out of the water too. The charm of a bath has gone.
I need to find my center again, find that calm, placid place where clarity lives. I need to connect with the spirit of Tajss. I sit at the edge of the pool and rest my hands beside me, touching the slick rocks that are at my sides, in front of me, behind me, and under me, all the way down to the heat at the heart of Tajss. I can hear Penelope settling as well, the pages of her book rustling as I let my eyes slip closed.
I allow everything around me to drift away as I listen to the beat of my own heart, slowed now as I sink into the ritual of meditation. It is more difficult with Penelope there, so it takes more time than it usually does. But I manage. As my breathing slows, my focus switching to the internal, to what cannot be seen, I feel the spirit within me reach out, sink down into the rock underneath me, through the anchor of my hands. Sink down and call to the wise, fiery spirit of the planet.
When I lost most of my memory, most of the experiences that made me who I was, defined my sense of identity, I began to reach out for something, anything to ground me. My instincts were still in place, but the Bijass ruled my life, leaving me nearly an animal with no true captain at the wheel. Life was without any purpose beyond survival. It was a hollow existence.
I don't know when I began to feel and know Tajss on a level beyond the visible. All I know is that I spent a significant amount of time reaching out for something more, my spirit crying out for something to hold on to. At some point...Tajss began to reach back. It was a slow process, one I did not recognize at first. I slowly realized what I was touching. What was touching me.
Not only that, but I found myself changing.
The meditation, the connection with Tajss, bolstered my instincts in an unfamiliar way. Sometimes, my dreams themselves would forewarn me of dangers to come. Other times, I would keenly sense the emotions of others, before there were any signs of them visible.
When I first realized what the sacred connection was, I never dreamed how much it could help me, help all of us living in community on the surface of Tajss.
First and foremost, it has enabled me to keep the Zmaj in our community from killing one another.
It has helped me heal them. It has helped me find those who have lost themselves. It has helped me teach them how to find the peace they crave—just like Tajss had to teach me. It has helped me harness the destructive force of their Bijass when they are struggling.
I will never stop being thankful for the gift of making peace. There has been too much blood soaking into the sands of Tajss already.
Today, I am practiced enough that I can reach that connection to Tajss much more easily. It feels as though the spirit recognizes me now when I reach out. This time is no exception. I let out my breath and allow my consciousness to descend into a space filled with a deep, abiding peace, acceptance, a sense of being grounded t
hat I crave.
At this level, immersed as I am, the thrum of Tajss is a resounding, cosmic heartbeat, filled with secrets that have long been suppressed. Hidden away. The energy I feel has a distinctly feminine taste to it, reminiscent of the women lost to Tajss. Prime mother energy. Powerful and nurturing.
The first time I felt it, the sharp pain of loss stabbed through me. We had lost so much. But the pain drifted away, slipped through my fingers almost as soon as I felt it, the negative emotion softened by Tajss herself. Just like today. The energy encompasses me, hugs me close, lifts me up. I sigh, feeling restored as I drift in the power, my troubles melting away from me.
I sense Penelope as my consciousness slowly rises again, closer to the surface of my mind rather than deep within where I was. When I open my eyes, it is to find her curious green ones trained on me.
Curious...and confused. She tilts her head as she continues watching me but says nothing. As if her intuition says not to break the silence quite yet.
I hold her gaze for a long time, soaking in her presence and feeling more than usual, with the touch of Tajss still lingering inside me. The essence of her sharpens in my mind's eye. I see more, understand more.
I can feel that Penelope is between...herself. Between the shield and the heart, attempting an unnatural balancing act that leaves her unsure of herself. A state she dislikes. Strongly. Ah. I understand fighting with oneself.
Perhaps she could benefit from some meditation as well. I pat the rock surface next to me, a silent invitation for her to join me. She hesitates only a moment before taking a seat wordlessly. I reach for her hand and place it palm down on the cool rock.
She finally breaks the silence.
"What are we doing?" she whispers.
"Being still," I reply softly.
A pause.
"Why?"
"So we align with the correct direction, the least perilous path for us to reach the New Villagers."
She frowns.
"By touching the rock floor?" she asks, skepticism creeping into her tone.
"By connecting with the heart of Tajss," I correct her.
Her frown deepens.
"I don't understand," she admits, searching my face.
I nod. Why would she? I did not understand at first either, and this is my original home, where I was born, a place I am a natural part of. But she does not need those things for this to become her home as well.
"Be still," I tell her. "I will show you. Close your eyes..."
She does as I tell her, though I can see she does not believe she will find anything. That is fine. Belief is not a requirement. Tajss is not arrogant. She does not need show her power, it is a deep well that simply is.
I guide Penelope gently to help her reach that deep state of meditation. Help her sink deep, deep where Tajss’s life force beats, a gentle, powerful force. We sit there for a long time, Penelope still and silent next to me. When I slowly bring us both back up, back to our conscious minds, she no longer appears skeptical. But I can also see she is still processing her experience, so I do not speak of it, allowing time to pass. We need the rest, and she needs to absorb what happened.
Hours after connecting with Tajss, I can see Penelope's mind still attempting to work out the encounter. I understand. The first time was a transformative experience for me too.
Leaving her to her silent contemplation, I step out of the enclosure to feel the air around us. It seems calm.
Crouching over the fire pit that others built here, I thread some of the meat we still have onto a small spit, listening as Penelope moves around me. There is enough fuel for a small fire nearby, so I pile it neatly and set it aflame.
"Do all Zmaj pray to Tajss?" she finally asks, breaking the silence around us.
It is my turn to frown.
"'Pray'?" I pause. "I do not understand this word."
I look to her for clarification.
"Oh. Um...for humans, we have systems of belief, of faith, that we call religion. Many of these religions involve praying or worshiping an entity greater than oneself. Often to make solemn requests or offer thanks."
Interesting. I shake my head.
"I do not pray to Tajss," I say, turning the meat as I think. "I...connect with her. And in doing so, I connect to my own roots. Which in turn connects me to everything around us," I explain, gesturing to our surroundings.
"Connect?" she repeats, drawing nearer.
I nod, considering how to explain.
"There is no life without connection," I finally say. "We are all independent in our interdependence. Do you see?"
She looks away, nodding slightly, but I can see something is wrong. Her next words confirm it.
"Sometimes, we're better off just being independent," she remarks.
Ah. Her pain is surfacing.
"I do not believe that is so," I counter gently. "To carry out duty and mission is honorable, but there is no fuel without rest and re-connection. We are all of a piece, all connected, woven together." I interlink my fingers to help illustrate my point. "The heart of Tajss is very different than what you have come to see on her surface."
Penelope appears uncertain, seemingly mystified by this turn of conversation. Shrugging, she does not push the dialogue any further.
I am at peace with this and hope she considers my words. We cannot make it on our own, we come together, joined by the Edicts for survival. To think otherwise on Tajss is dangerous.
When the meat is done, we eat quickly. Penelope guzzles water and readies herself to leave when we finish. I start to do the same, but I feel a disturbance grate against my senses. Not a good one. I rise to stop her short of the door out of the enclosure.
Penelope looks at me questioningly.
"Wait. There is someone passing." I take a deep breath, rolling my shoulders. "I feel ill-intention."
I brace myself for an argument, but Penelope surprises me. Giving me a probing look, she steps back from the door. Good. I will not have to split my focus if she cooperates.
I take my lochaber from the scabbard as the threat draws close. Penelope freezes next to me as she sees me do so, her eyes wide on the weapon. The tension rises as the sound of footsteps reaches us. Her eyes move to the door. The pulse in her neck beats rapidly. I want to reassure her, but I dare not make a sound. If we can hear them, they may be able to hear us.
I will not let harm come to Penelope. My hand tightens on the hilt of the lochaber as I prepare to fight.
But then a distant voice calls out to the stranger, a muffled question I cannot understand. The footsteps pause.
Leave.
That moment of silence stretches as Penelope and I both hold our breath.
The footsteps start again, moving in a different direction, away from us. I do not release my weapon for a long moment, listening intently. I do not relax until I can no longer hear any sounds made by the interlopers. Letting out my breath, I put the weapon away. I will not have to fight at this moment, thanks to my connection to Tajss.
When I turn to Penelope, she is trembling. Triggered at the prospect of another abduction? I step closer, not wanting to cross any boundaries she does not want me to cross but wanting to comfort her.
"I will not let harm come to you," I reassure her, ducking my head to meet her eyes. "This I promise."
She makes a harsh sound. Does she want me to back—
She lurches forward, and her arms wrap around me, the desperation in her grip stinging me as I hold her close, make an attempt to help her feel safe. I do not want her to ever experience the acrid taste of fear, but I also acknowledge that this will not be the last time. Not in this world where we live.
She pulls back after a moment, a small span of time in which I can feel her draw the edges of tattered self together, regain her composure. She is strong, for all her outward softness.
"What do we do?" she asks anxiously, her eyes slipping to the door. It is no real protection from anyone. She realizes that, and it scares her.<
br />
"We wait," I say firmly. If I were alone, I might have attempted to slip out from under their noses. But I need to be more careful with Penelope. "There is food, water, and good company," I add with what I hope is a bolstering smile.
She returns it with one that trembles at the edges but does not crack. Brave. I feel a rush of tenderness for this scarred woman who refuses to break. I will keep her safe. Even at the cost of my own life.
Chapter Nine
Penelope
Bashir sits at the edge of the pool again, carefully taking out the bundle containing the meteorite glass he gathered earlier. I find myself drawn to him despite myself, despite my renewed determination to stay away. I can’t help watching him, admiring his confident movements as he removes the sharp glass from its wrappings. He’s being cautious, but it shows in his focus, in the rhythm of his motions. No matter how often I tell myself, “No!” and drag my attention to something else, my eyes sneak back to him.
Is Bashir my kryptonite? I sure don't feel like Superman. But I sure am starting to feel more and more like he might be my own personal weakness. Especially now. It's like that touch of danger stripped me of the growing wall I'd started to rebuild between us.
The determination in his face when those strangers were near made me know, beyond any doubt—he'll do anything to keep me safe. That counts more than his handsome face and beautiful body in the end.
I’m safe. It hits me on a level I don't have much defense against. I've never felt like this with another person, like I can trust him with...me.
I sit on the ground next to Bashir, the sparkling water so beautiful in front of us.
He glances over at me, a touch of surprise in his expression at finding me so close of my own volition.
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