Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles)

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Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) Page 28

by Dale B. Mattheis


  Zimma felt a shiver work its way up her spine. She had never heard her father speak in such a fashion. The finality of his words forced her to review every aspect of her new relationship with Jeff. She did not hurry the process.

  “As I have said, I do not have the words to express what I feel for Jeffrey. My life would cease to have meaning were I to discover he was lost to me. Yes, I recognize he is deeply wounded. Having said that, I also perceive this condition springs not from his character but from experiences on this Earth. Was I not troubled, Father?”

  Rogelf could only nod. “There is no gainsaying that fact.”

  “Just so, and severely. Yet I have been salvaged. I do not propose to know all ends of my love for this man or his comprehension of it, only that he is mine and if it must lead us both to a desperate end, even death, then I accept such without reservation. I will have him, I will have his children, I will have his destiny.”

  Profoundly moved by Zimma’s answer, Rogelf bowed from the waist with arm extended. “My heart overflows with gratitude that you are my daughter. May your joining prosper and bear fruit in due season.”

  In the formal manner of Chaldesia, Zimma duplicated Rogelf’s bow. “As the fruit of a gentle summer finds expression in plenitude, so shall our children spring forth and sustain life.”

  Brushing a tear away, Rogelf placed his hands on Zimma’s shoulders just to look at her. In one afternoon, ten years of agony had faded away. The sun was gone when they arrived at the warehouse and Zimma reluctantly dropped his hand.

  “I must prepare myself before the Flames of Rishak consume me, Father. Already it has started. Will you see to the food?”

  “I would be honored.” Rogelf hesitated before saying, “I so deeply miss the presence of your mother. Do you fully understand the Ritual of Testing? That it is no coupling for sport or simple pleasure? It must not go awry! Never forget that Jeefrey is not of our people. If he should…” Rogelf paused to rephrase. “Please, my daughter, do not put your life at risk.”

  Zimma patted his cheek and smiled. “Aunt Gemma was most dedicated to the task of my education in this matter. Also, and again, I have given considerable thought to Jeffrey’s origins. No viciousness resides within him. Now please, Father, be at rest! We will both succeed.”

  Rogelf relaxed at once. His sister, Gemma, was not one to be diverted from a task she had set her mind on.

  “Then test him, daughter, and discover whether his strength is worthy of you.”

  Zimma’s eyes sparked and her skin seemed to glow. “Rest assured that Jeffrey will be tested as no man before him.”

  Jeff left Carl sorting through his acquisitions and searched for Zimma without success. Apparently she had gone shopping with her father. Tired, feeling melancholy for a variety of reasons and even a bit homesick for the first time in months, he retired to his room. Playing the recorder helped, but his heart wasn’t in it and he blew out the candle.

  Months of constant exposure to attack while camping out had resulted in a light sleep pattern. One moment Jeff was asleep, the next he was sitting up fully alert. The room was pitch black and there was not a sound to be heard. He was about to shrug it off when a floorboard in the hallway creaked loudly.

  “Get serious, boyo,” he murmured, “that ain’t mice out there.” Jeff had his feet on the floor when he sniffed the air. “What is it? Can’t smell anything, but damn! I haven’t felt this kind of rush since I was thirteen.”

  A portion of Jeff’s mind shouted at him to grab the pistol, but the stronger part wasn’t listening. The door to his room opened with a squeak of dry hinges. That did the trick. Jeff shot his hand under the pillow in search of the Colt. Before he could withdraw it, a weight settled on the bed and a hand covered his mouth.

  Lips tickled his ear and a low-pitched voice growled, “Be still.”

  The hand over his mouth was soft and small, the voice feminine. He did not recognize it. Alarm overwhelmed desire and he pulled the hand away, thinking, What the hell is in here with me?

  “Zimma?”

  Throaty, derisive laughter whispered into his ear and Jeff was thrust onto his back. Before he could react, a body landed on his chest and teeth were fastened to his ear in a hard bite. Within seconds, a tidal bore of desire such as he had never known swept over Jeff and he didn’t care who was in bed with him.

  The voice snarled, “Take me if you can.” It was Zimma.

  Jeff pulled Zimma’s head down and crushed his lips to hers. He was sleeping in the nude; Zimma had a thick robe on. Tearing the robe open, he pulled it down over her shoulders and grasped her breasts. Her pleasure was such that she cried out and thrust a hand between his legs.

  “Now prove that you will be mine forever!”

  Hands and lips explored with painful urgency until Jeff’s need was so consuming that he forced Zimma onto her back. Using his weight and arms to hold her down, Jeff attempted to separate her legs with a knee. Laughing disdain, she thrust him away with ease.

  Licking blood from his ear, raking his back with her nails, fighting him off again and again, Zimma drove Jeff until he threw her to the floor in a frenzy. Zimma’s head bounced off wooden planks, leaving her dazed. Jeff tore her legs apart and thrust deep inside with a single stroke.

  Shouting triumph and raw exaltation, Zimma clamped her legs around his waist and forced her hips up with a convulsive twist. Everything faded from Jeff’s existence but the thrashing, furnace-hot body underneath him and a single-minded drive to impregnate her that reached beyond the beginnings of humanity. When orgasm exploded, Jeff was only vaguely aware of Zimma’s screams of release.

  He awoke in bed with his cheek pillowed on a breast and a sense of well being that was euphoric in intensity. When memories of their loving filtered in Jeff nearly bolted upright. Instead, he cautiously sat up and stared down at Zimma as if seeing her for the first time. As he continued to remember, Jeff thought, What is she? What happened to me? How could anything be so wonderful and terrifying at the same time?

  Zimma was sleeping on her back, hair spread out on the pillow in wild disarray and one leg bent out to the side. A brilliant flush on her cheeks swept backward to include the ears, giving them an elfin look. The flush also extended down her neck and between generous breasts in a slender leaf pattern.

  How beautiful, he mused, tracing a finger along one edge of the flush. Can there be a touch of green and blue in it? Is that possible?

  Letting his questions drift away, Jeff sighed with satisfaction and leaned down to tease a nipple with his lips and caress belly and thighs. Her eyes opened. Stretching luxuriously, she thrust her chest up and began purring with a throaty rumble. The pressure of Zimma’s eyes was so strong that Jeff released the nipple and raised his head to look at her.

  Brilliant green eyes alight with the inner fire of a predator feasted on him; seemed to be judging the right moment to spring. Bright cyan sparks whirled slowly deep within her eyes, drawing him closer to discover new galaxies never imagined.

  Zimma sat up, gripped his chin and turned his head with easy strength. When she leaned close to examine his ear, Jeff could feel the heat from her skin. Turning his head back, she raised her lips in a feral smile.

  “It was a good bite, do you not think so?”

  Whatever they were, whatever the sparks represented, they proved so hypnotic he didn’t move or speak. Her gaze softened and Zimma pulled Jeff’s head close for a long kiss. When she released him, Zimma sat up straight and bowed.

  “First Love’s greeting, my Jeffrey. May all our joinings know such rapture.”

  The formality of Zimma’s bow and her wording left no doubt in Jeff’s mind that what he had experienced the night before had no analog on Earth. Jeff took Zimma’s hand and bowed over it.

  “My greetings to you, Lady. I stand in awe of your beauty and the joy of our First Loving.”

  Placing a hand above her pelvis, Zimma dimpled pleasure.

  “The strength of your seed assures me that
our children will be strong and numerous.”

  “I am hopeful I did you no serious injury,” Jeff responded. There was a large bruise on her neck and several others on her breasts.

  “They are of no significance,” Zimma replied with a languid smile. “You were challenged to gain entry and suffered no opposition to that end.”

  Her eyes came alight with the same predatory glow, with the same brilliant sparks that orbited a point of phosphorescent green. Growling under her breath, Zimma pushed Jeff flat and leaped on top to straddle his hips.

  When they awoke the second time, Jeff got dressed long enough to find a jug of water and some bread. They were dehydrated and downed the water at once, but took their time feeding each other hunks of bread. Later, Zimma had Jeff sit on the edge of the cot.

  Extracting a damp cloth from the small bag she had brought, Zimma cleaned the bite on his ear. She did it with such careful precision and purred so loudly under her breath all the while that Jeff did not move. He knew it was Zimma beside him, but he also knew it wasn’t the Zimma he was familiar with.

  Her behavior throughout the night had been so alien to anything he had experienced on Earth that he would not have been surprised to see her transform into a mountain lion. That was it, Jeff decided. She had already transformed and he had no idea what to expect.

  Spreading a light coating of salve on the bite, she lay down and held her arms out with a sunny smile. The Zimma of earlier memory had returned. Jeff entered her arms with a great sense of relief.

  Before dozing off he reviewed a long list of questions in his mind. Even unanswered the questions urged a conclusion that was unsettling. Brushing the questions away, he smiled and closed his eyes. Whatever Zimma was, he could not imagine life without her.

  An appointment at the farriers to replace Cynic’s badly worn shoes forced Jeff to get out of bed mid-afternoon. They dressed slowly, reluctant to break the spell of their time together.

  “Will you stay with me for the nights remaining to us?”

  Brushing her hair to work out the tangles, Zimma turned to Jeff with a matter-of-fact smile.

  “Of course. When duty permits, we will never sleep apart again.”

  The sense of complete finality in Zimma’s voice was so strong that Jeff paused in tugging on a boot to look at her. When she grinned and stuck out her tongue, he gave a shout and hobbled over to grab her in an enthusiastic embrace.

  At the farrier, Cynic’s behavior was beyond reproach. He stood obediently, letting each of his hooves be shod without a single protest. Knowing Cynic, Jeff grew suspicious.

  “Why so cooperative? Are you not feeling well?”

  Cynic responded with what amounted to a sly smirk. “After mating throughout the night, what more could you stand?”

  Jeff’s abruptly stepped back to stare at Cynic. “My emotions were that strong?” Cynic was stabled at least a mile from the warehouse.

  “Horse-brother, my head still aches! Even were my stable mates disturbed, and they no more than horses.”

  “Holy shit,” Jeff muttered. “I had no idea.”

  He was still mulling it over when Carl dropped in to have his new mount shod. A grin split his face ear to ear the moment he saw Jeff.

  “Glad to see you made it through the night, bucko.”

  “Damnation! Who told you? Is there some sort of tom-tom telegraph around here?”

  That evening, they entered the communal dining hall deep in conversation about the trip north. Jeff and Carl were startled when the fifteen or so people present stood simultaneously and applauded loudly. Jeff didn’t know whether to run or maybe do a dance. Carl stepped out of the limelight and joined in the applause, which did not help matters. Entering the spirit of the thing Jeff swept off his hat and bowed deeply, bringing a new round of applause and appreciative laughter.

  While gathering food, he glanced at Carl with a bemused expression. “Is there anyone who doesn’t know?”

  Carl thoughtfully pulled at his chin. “No sir, I’m sure of it. There isn’t a single person who doesn’t know. Relax, Jeff. These folks are happy for you and Zimma. They think it’s perfectly natural, and Rogelf has been grinning around here like a Cheshire cat. First that trip to Tradertown really straightened Zimma out, now it looks like she’s found someone to settle down with.” Carl erupted in embarrassed laughter. “Jeff, you and Zimma made so much racket that the whole place was awake. When I ran out here to see what was going on, men and women were discussing it like a football game. Hell, Rogelf threw a party!”

  “He threw a party?”

  Carl nodded sagely.

  “Well, damnation.” Jeff laughed in spite of renewed chagrin. “I guess everyone does know.”

  When the worst of his appetite was seen to, Jeff began reflecting on what Carl had said. More questions were added to his list.

  “They discussed our lovemaking like a football game, right?”

  “Yep, that’s what it reminded me of.” Carl was so uncomfortable that he squirmed in his chair. “Sort of a play-by-play, I think.”

  “And Rogelf threw a party in the middle of the night. What kind of party, and with what?”

  “Oh, the usual stuff—ale, bread, cheese, sweets,” Carl replied with dismissive shrug. “Everyone was congratulating Rogelf and drinking too much.”

  “Just sort of found all that food lying around, eh?”

  Carl examined Jeff with sudden interest. “Now that you mention it, no he didn’t. It was all boxed up and ready to go. Pretty fancy stuff, too. What are you suggesting, Jeff?”

  “I’m not really sure. Zimma and Rogelf were out shopping yesterday afternoon. I suspect that’s where the food came from and why it was fancy. Tying that in with everything I experienced last night and this morning, Zimma’s coming to my room was not a spontaneous act but carefully planned.”

  “That doesn’t strike me as unusual, Jeff. In my experience, women usually do plan things pretty carefully. Especially anything having to do with a relationship."

  “I’ll buy that. On the other hand, do you know of any women on Earth who would go shopping with her father to buy stuff for a party that celebrates visiting a guy in his room?”

  “Got me there. Not a chance. Especially a party like the one last night. It was really strange.”

  “That’s a good word. This whole thing is more than strange.” Jeff tilted his head in thought. His list of questions pointed in one direction only. “Looking at it now, and as an anthropologist, I cannot avoid the conclusion that I was put to a test as old as Zimma’s culture. She isn’t human, Carl.” He waved an arm around the hall. “None of these people are. Maybe we’ve forgotten the small fact that we’re no longer on Earth.”

  “Come again?” Carl looked at Jeff in blank-faced astonishment. “You bouncing off the wall?”

  “Maybe,” Jeff said with spread hands. He turned his head and pointed a finger at the scabbed, semicircular bite mark on his ear. “What do you make of that?”

  Carl took a close look and whistled. “One nasty bite is what I make of it, buddy.” He pulled Jeff’s ear around for a minute inspection. Even though scabbed over, it had the appearance of a serious wound. “A little deeper and you might have lost part of that ear. You telling me Zimma did that?”

  “I am telling you that,” Jeff replied with a decisive nod. “When she came into my room I didn’t recognize her voice, and her skin was so hot I thought it would burn me. And strong! She threw me around like a doll! Without going into personal details, let me give you a thumbnail of what happened after that…”

  Some time later, “…And then she was back to her old self.” Jeff took a long drink and gestured toward Carl. “Okay, tell me what you think.”

  “I don’t know what to think,” Carl breathed. “No, what you have just said blows me away! You sure there was some blue and green in the chest display? That something in her eyes actually spun around?”

  “The light wasn’t good for those colors, but I’m pretty
sure,” Jeff replied, “and I’m not likely to forget the way those sparks whirled around. The effect was so strong I couldn’t look away.”

  “I think it’s high time I kicked myself in the butt, and hard,” Carl muttered in a tone of profound disgust. “Me—the young upstart biologist.” Carl felt so chagrined he couldn’t look at Jeff for a period. “I let myself get sucked into one of the oldest traps there is: the assumption that two phenomena are identical because superficial observation indicates they are.”

  “I think I get your drift. Since the inhabitants of this world look and generally act like us, we extend that comparison and assume they are the same in every respect.”

  “That’s it.”

  Pursing his lips, Carl looked at Jeff with an intensely speculative expression. Although Carl blushed easily and frequently, the one spreading across his face like a brush fire set new standards. Jeff nodded judiciously. Whatever was cooking in Carl’s head ought to really be good.

  “Uh, Jeff, what did Zimma…I mean, you know, did you notice anything different down there, like.... Oh, damnation!”

  Jeff laughed delightedly. “Down there? Nope, and not up there either. She’s put together just like a healthy American girl.”

  Carl grinned, if feebly, and stared off into space for a period. “I suspect you were affected by something like pheromones at first, then may have been injected with more potent agents when she bit you.” Carl sat up straight and pointed an excited finger at Jeff. “Maybe it’s reciprocal! From what you’ve said, it sounds like Zimma actually tasted your blood off and on. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of her behavior was stimulated by your body’s response to what she injected. I’ll bet that’s what happens—a positive or negative feedback cycle depending on response. Either the first loving flies or it’s all over. I think you were literally put to the test!”

  “She isn’t a vampire, Carl.”

  “Settle down, boy,” Carl said, making calming motions with his hands. “I’m not saying she is. That vampire shit is rubbish.” He drifted off for several moments before saying, “You’re right—they aren’t human, or at least not entirely so. Nothing in my understanding of human biology stands up to comparison.”

 

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