Then there were days when Khassis would sink into the depth of his own despair and Greer would glide heavily down with him. On those days she railed at the Goddess for calling her to the role of the Sibling, for calling her to a celibate life with a man-loving man, for not allowing her an unremarkable life with an unremarkable mate and a normal, unremarkable destiny. On those days she would cry and pace and bid Hannah turn seekers away lest she give bad and soured advice. On those days she would retire early and sit in the dark and stare blankly out her window at the cold sky.
One such evening Greer seemed restless almost beyond bearing. Joel had been stable and Khassis valiantly cheerful, yet Greer had felt edgy and sensitive all day. When Megan touched Greer’s arm, intending to call her to table, Greer jumped as if burned, and she took her evening meal afoot, pacing the common room like a caged cat. When it came time to retire, Hannah saw the girls to bed and came to check on Greer, knowing as she did that the Sibling suffered so.
“Will you be all right?” Hannah asked softly from the doorway. She studied Greer, who stood beside her window barefooted, arms crossed over her body and fingers clasped on her arms. The Sibling looked small and angry and afraid.
“I’ll get through the night,” Greer said peevishly.
Hannah heard the snappishness of her voice and shrugged it off. Pained as she might be by her mistress’ anguish, she knew better than to believe it a personal insult. She would never understand the emotional torments that were a part of Greer’s life, but she understood that they were a part of her life and would pass as surely as they would come again.
“If you need anything,” Hannah said, “anything at all, all you have to do is ask. I’ll be in my room.”
Struggling with some inner demon, Greer opened her mouth to remark, shut it fiercely, then sighed. “Thank you, Hannah. I appreciate that.” She turned to her friend, the Goddess’ own awareness underlying the pain in her eyes. “I love you, Hannah.”
Hannah smiled, still concerned but more than willing to acknowledge this voice of normality in the emotional storm. “And I love you, Greer. Try to sleep.”
Sleep, thought Greer fiercely as Hannah closed the door. As if she could sleep when she felt as taut as a drumhead, as tense and vibrating as a spider’s web in a windstorm. Her entire body seemed to thrum with some plucking of the night breeze, the nervous vibrations barely keeping the edge off, barely keeping her from exploding in some kind of anxious eruption. She paced her room and clutched her own arms, holding herself in, and watched the stars that seemed to sit motionless in the dark sky. Not even with all her urging would they wheel slowly across the blackness as they should.
Frustrated almost to tears, Greer flung herself into her bed and lay motionless, staring with open, burning eyes at the ceiling. The blood rushed through her veins, its sound a roaring noise in her ears, and her body itched as if she’d stumbled into a toxic bush. She dragged the thin cover up over herself, hoping it would relieve the horrible, crawling itch, but just as quickly found that too irritating and threw it off. Her breath was uneven, catching in her throat or tumbling out in a gulping rush. Nothing she did made her comfortable.
Her hyperkeen hearing caught a muffled noise from the next room—Khassis’ room—and suddenly all her attention riveted on that area beyond the wall. Her heart reached out to Khassis, cried out to him, and was answered by the wordless hum of low voices, one quiet male voice to another. She felt locked out, turned away, despairing and alone. She needed him. How could he deny her when she needed him so much? Hot tears filled her eyes and ran down her face.
The need exploded in her, propelling her out of bed, out the door, out into the common room. She ran past the memory of the Goddess, too tortured, too blind to see Her. Energized by need, she went to the door of Khassis’ room and knocked. There was no answer, just a surprised silence, but Greer charged past that and opened the door. The door swung open and her bright, night-wide eyes stared in.
Khassis was there on his bed, Joel in his arms. The two naked men stared back at her, shocked, surprised. The tableau they presented to her was alive with love and communion and caring, and it tore at her heart like the claws of a cat. She needed Khassis; she needed his love. The pain in her heart was like an engine, turning over, building, exploding outward with energy.
“I need you,” she said, almost choking on the words. “Khassis, I need you.”
Startled out of his paralysis by the pain in her voice, Khassis released Joel and sat up. Greer saw the look of abandonment that lanced Joel’s eyes and for a moment she empathized with him, but then her own needs resurfaced and she stood her ground in the doorway.
“Let me put something on,” Khassis said. “I will come.”
Hearing the sanity in his words, knowing he was more rational at that moment than she, Greer nodded silently and stepped back. She tried to apologize to Joel with her eyes, but his own clung to Khassis. Greer turned away and went back to her room.
Khassis found her there by the window. Again she stood keyed up, anxious, holding herself. Even in stillness she vibrated with tension. Khassis approached her, his lower body covered by a wrap of cloth, his upper body gleaming with a sheen of perspiration. He came to her and stood before her.
“Lady?” he asked. “What may I do?”
His gentle words were like a knife in Greer’s heart and she unleashed the tears and cried, “Hold me. Please, hold me!” She dissolved in his arms as he took her, boneless, bloodless, a false woman-shape of pain and need. His arms around her were like fire on her skin, encircling her in a strong grip even while they burned her. She sighed with a relief that here at last was her love, someone to love her on the earth as the Goddess loved her in spirit, while at the same time the fire of tension burned hotter within her and she cried out in anguish.
She wanted him; wanted him the way it had been in their last lives as lovers. She wanted him hot and hard and blood-engorged, over her and in her and around her. She wanted the flesh of her body touching all along the length of his, nothing but a sheen of sweat between them, their bodies twining and coiling like the dance of serpents. She wanted to kiss him and hold him and nurture him, to have him suckle her breasts and bury his face in her flesh. She wanted him to take her, to drive into her and thrust through her; she wanted to scratch him and claw him and make him bleed. She wanted their twin voices to cry out in guttural screams and groans.
Her need could not help but communicate itself to him. His arms tightened around her and he held her as close as he possibly could. He stroked her hair and smoothed his palms over the small of her back, molding their two bodies into one compliant, undulating shape. His breath coming in sharp, fast bursts, he took her mouth and ravaged it, claiming it even as he was consumed by it. Their tongues twined and dueled, they tasted each other, fed on each other, and Greer groaned and ground her body against his in need.
And her groan of need turned to frustration as she realized that he was not ready for her, would never be ready for her. The hard male shape she craved was not there for her; Khassis was as soft and pliant as a woman. The male strength he shared so lovingly with Joel would never be for her. She had seen it with Joel, the two proud, velvety spires that jousted in love and communion, but it would never be there for her. She tore her mouth from Khassis’ and clung to him and cried.
“I’m sorry,” he sang softly to her; “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
Almost beyond words, Greer sobbed out her heartbreak. Even disappointed, even rejected, she loved him.
“Khassis,” she mourned, her voice breaking, “Khassis.”
He held her. Huddling close in the dark like the brother and sister they once were, they clung to each other and Khassis kept her close and safe. He let her cry out all her frustration, all her pain, all her anger. He stroked her hair and gentled her body and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“I am sorry, Greer,” he said finally to her ebbing whimpers. “I am not the man who was your lover in that last
life. I am Khassis now, as you are Greer, and we are not the same. We cannot go back; we cannot be what the Goddess has not made us to be. We must be what we are now, living this life.” He held her a little away from him, staring into her tear-swollen eyes. “You see that, don’t you? By the Goddess, I love you more than any person on this earth, yet I cannot be what you want me to be. I can only be who I am. If you love me, you must love me for that, for Khassis, and nothing more.” He pulled her close again, burying his face in her hair.
“Tell me that you love me, Greer, and let me go.”
She cried again. Not for what Khassis was not, but for what he was. Not for the love he did not have for her, but for the love he did have. Not for his incompleteness, but for her own.
“Greer,” he said softly, “I can do no more for you tonight. Let me go.”
Shaking, sniffling, Greer released him. In the pale starlight, her tear tracks left silver designs on his face. She bowed to the truth that his words echoed and let go of him and stepped away.
“Go back to Joel,” she bid him softly. “I hope you both will forgive me.”
Khassis touched her cheek with gentle fingertips. “Dear Greer,” he said, sighing. “Tell me that you love me.”
“I do,” she said, her eyes bright, her voice clear. “I do love you, Khassis.”
Smiling, he kissed her cheek. “And I you. Rest, Greer. Be at peace.”
And he left.
Greer went to the window and leaned on the thick sill, her face fanned by the cool night breezes. She felt insane. What was this torture she was going through? Had the Goddess forsaken her, or was this another of Her gifts that Greer would only understand later? She was too confused, too frustrated to tell. She didn’t want to be alone; she knew that. And Khassis was denied her. There was only one other place to go.
Running barefoot through the Sanctuary like a child chased by nightmares, she crossed the common room and fled to Hannah. Hannah, her sister; Hannah, her friend, Hannah, her mother. She burst into the room and knew even as she did so that Hannah waited for her, awake, arms wide, openhearted. Greer flew to her and Hannah took her in and in that sweet, total acceptance, Greer cried again.
“It’s all right, Greer,” Hannah soothed. She rocked the Sibling in her arms like a lost child. “It’s all right. You’re safe now, Greer. You’re safe. Safe in my arms.”
“Hannah, why do I burn so? I hate this feeling! I cry, I burn, I hunger and I can’t have what I want! Why does the Goddess torture me?”
“Shh, Greer. It is not the Goddess who tortures you. It is not the feeling. It is you.” Gently, Hannah met Greer’s confused eyes. “I would love you, Greer, if you wish. I would show you how to tame your demon.”
“You understand this?” Greer asked. “You know why I ache?”
“I think so,” Hannah nodded. She smoothed Greer’s hair from her forehead. “I am not Khassis, but I will love you, if you wish it so. My healer’s hands can heal you, also; my hands and my mouth can ease your torment.” She stared openly at Greer. “I can do this if you wish it so.”
Confusion and indecision lit Greer’s eyes. For a moment she was not the Sibling, but a young woman who cried out for direction. She was a young woman unrealized, incomplete. Knowledge of her incompleteness decided her.
“Show me, Hannah,” she said. “Love me. Help me.”
“As you wish,” Hannah said. “Lie back.”
Greer did as Hannah bid her and for a time, in that night that had seemed so dark and unnurturing, she found the ease she had been seeking. The gentleness of Hannah’s hands led her body to arousal and excitement and to a fine, high vibration that was exquisite agony. The moist warmth of Hannah’s mouth kissed and caressed and drew her body into a taut coil of spiraling tension that drove her into mindless desire. Greer felt her body soar and writhe and extend and pull in on itself. She felt as taut and as sensitive as a tightly held wire, and as painfully responsive. Every touch of Hannah’s gentle fingertips was a searing flame of pleasure; every press of her mouth was a breath-stealing ache. Greer felt the pull of Hannah’s mouth at her breast and thought the other would suck the heart from her; she felt the pull on her sex and thought Hannah would draw her blood and her fluids and her very organs out of her body. She felt her blood stampeding through the veins, felt her heart race at a frightening pace, and she thought the roar in her ears would deafen her. She writhed and clawed and cried and fought, but in the end Hannah brought her to the place where her blood ran like a crashing river to the sea, where her body quaked and vibrated like the earth in its dynamism, where stars burst behind her eyes and all the universe shimmered into the image of the Goddess’ beautifully-wrought gown.
“Hannah,” she said. “Dear Goddess, Hannah.”
“Shh,” Hannah said gently. “Sleep now, Greer. Just sleep.”
In the morning, Greer awoke in Hannah’s arms, her cheek on Hannah’s bare breast. Outside the day was dazzling and the bright sunlight spilled into the room. Greer sat up and Hannah awoke.
“Morning already,” she yawned.
“Already?” Greer grinned. “It’s practically midday. I feel wonderful!”
“Good.” Hannah tried to bury herself in bed again, but Greer wouldn’t have it.
“Hannah, wake up,” she insisted, pulling the covers off her friend. “I must thank you. You drew off my pain, last night. You gave me peace.”
Resigned to staying awake, Hannah sat up, but refused to take the credit Greer gave her.
“It was not magic, Greer. I think you forget that you are a sexual being and your body is a sexual instrument. Sibling or not, you can’t escape your sex. You are a physical human being and human beings need release.”
“But how did you know what would please me?”
Hannah smiled. “I know what pleases me. We are not so very different after all.”
Greer was surprised. “You make love to yourself?”
“Of course,” Hannah said, completely the older friend. “If I did not, the both of us would be stomping around the Sanctuary like wounded bears. I dare say we would not get much of the Goddess’ work done that way.”
“No, I would think not,” Greer said thoughtfully. Another idea came to her. “Hannah, do you mind that I came to you when Khassis denied himself to me?”
“No,” Hannah said softly. “I feel honored that you trusted me so.” Her eyes clear and level, she said, “I am here for you anytime, Greer. As you are the servant of the Goddess, I am servant to you.”
“And yet,” Greer said slowly, piecing it out, “you hope to marry one day and have children.”
“Yes.”
Gratitude shone from Greer’s eyes and she felt her throat close at the realization of how much Hannah sacrificed for her. “Dear Hannah,” she said, hugging her friend. “I will ask no more of you than I must, especially since you have taught me so well.” She drew back and studied the face of the beloved woman before her.
“As I am the face of the Goddess for so many,” Greer said slowly, “you are the face of the Goddess for me.”
Hannah bowed her head and was still.
Throwing on a robe, Greer opened the door and stepped into the common room. Four pairs of eyes swiveled instantly toward her. Beaming with joy, she honored them all with a smile.
“I do hope I didn’t keep you girls awake last night with my ranting and raving,” she said to Meg and Cananea. “I’m afraid I was not very happy last night.”
“Oh, no,” Cananea said quickly. “You didn’t bother us.”
“Are you better today?” Meg asked softly. The younger girl had seemed particularly disturbed by Greer’s show of temper.
“Much better,” Greer said. “Now would you two find some food for Hannah and me? I’m starving!”
“Right away,” Cananea grinned. “Come on, Megan.”
When the girls had clattered off to the storage, Greer took a seat across from the men. Drawing in a deep breath, she took one of Khassis’ hands in her
own and met his eyes.
“Khassis,” she said, “I apologize deeply to you. I wanted you to be other than you are and for that I feel ashamed. My love for you will never stop, but I understand now the limits that this life puts on that love. Can you forgive me?”
“Greer, please—” Khassis said, obviously uneasy with her plea.
“No, Khassis. Forgive me or not, as you can. I will ask no more of you and still love you always.”
Khassis relented, sighing. “Of course I forgive you. But me, a mere man, forgiving the Sibling—”
“Last night I was not the Sibling, but Greer only, a mere woman.”
Finally Khassis seemed to understand. He nodded and the tautness seemed to melt from his body. “Yes, Greer, I forgive you. I love you.”
Drawing his hand to her lips, she kissed it reverently.
“You will always be my love,” she said.
Then she turned to Joel.
“To you, Joel, I owe a much greater, much more encompassing apology. You have not been born to all the lives that Khassis and I have; you have not always been present in our varied dances to the Goddess’ songs, and yet you have been hurt the most by the dance we move to in this life. I am deeply sorry for any pain that was yours last night; I am sorry that my waywardness broke in upon your happiness. Please believe me when I say I never meant for you to be hurt. If I could take back last night and relive it, I would, but it is done and I am grateful for the knowing of it. But to you, I am deeply, humbly sorry. Can you, also, forgive?”
Almost speechless, Joel stammered uneasily. He looked from Greer to Khassis and back again. Finally, he swallowed and spoke his slow words.
“I can forgive,” he said. “I know you share my love for Khassis. I cannot blame you for wanting him as I do. You ... you are right; you have known him as I have not, and you will again, as I may not. But for now, he is the one love of my life, and I am grateful that I will not have to spend what little time I have left fighting you for him.”
Alarmed, Khassis would speak, but Joel silenced him with a look.
Goddess Rising Page 37
