by Dara Joy
“Lorgin!”
She threw her head back, gripping his shoulders. Her long hair trailed behind her in the swirling colored water. Her voice shook with her passion.
“Did you think it was another?” His large hands clamped on her buttocks, pulling her fully onto him.
Her gasp echoed across the cave.
He took her breast in his mouth again, tugging on her, drawing on her, as he moved inside the sweet, hot canal. A ripple of current flowed from him to her and back again. It was a first for him. The pleasure of it moved him deeply because it was a pleasure that came only after a Transference.
His broken whisper bespoke his deep emotions. “Aiyah, Adeeann…such…pleasure…you give me.” He laced his fingers through her hair, kissing her with abandon.
As he continued to steadily thrust into her, the currents began flowing back and forth between them, ripples of power and pleasure. He could feel Adeeann trembling in his arms as she started the coming.
In the throes of her passion, she tried to pull her mouth away from his, but he would not let her. He kept her locked to him as the coming approached him. So that when it was upon them, they moaned into each other’s mouth: breath for breath, shiver for shiver…
Lorgin stretched on the rock surface, his thoughts returning to the present and Adeeann’s pleasant massaging of his scalp as she washed his hair. Her flowery scent reached him on a gentle waft of air. He loved the scent of—
He sniffed the air again.
His indulgent mood vanished instantly. His expression thunderous, he abruptly sat up, yanking his hair away from Deana.
“By the blood of Aiyah! You are using tasmin oil on my hair!”
Deana looked down at the vial in her hand. She had been so absorbed in the massage, she really hadn’t been paying much attention to the cleanser. She didn’t see what all the fuss was about. It was just a scent, for crying out loud. Admittedly, a very feminine scent.
“Look, I’m sorry. But it’s really not that noticeable.” He threw her a look. “Believe me, you’d have to be standing this close to you to smell it.” He still didn’t seem to be buying it. Time to use a feminine wile. “No one but me is going to be this close to you, are they, Lorgin?” She smiled at him coquettishly. It appeared to do the trick.
Lorgin sighed. “I suppose you are right.” He stood up, retrieving their clothes. “We should be leaving. It is late, and we need to depart early on the morrow.”
They quickly dressed, exiting the beautiful cavern. As soon as they had rounded the corridor, Lorgin told her he had forgotten his cleansing oil in the cave. Instructing her to wait for him, he re-entered the pool cave.
His lilac eyes briefly scanned the beauty of the scene before him; then he passed his arm in front of him, turning the colorful waterfall back to the ordinary one it had always been.
It had pleased him that Adeeann had enjoyed his secret gift to her.
As they were making their way back to their chamber, they came across Rejar in a corridor. He was coming toward them, tugging on a boot and fastening his cloak about his shoulders.
“Every time I see your brother, he’s adjusting his clothes,” Deana whispered.
“That is because he takes them off so much.” A corner of Lorgin’s mouth lifted as he thought of his rascal of a younger brother.
Deana shook her head in awe. The man was a sex machine.
As Rejar came abreast of them in the hallway, he sniffed the air, grinning. “Mmm…tasmin flower. Very nice, brother,” he said aloud as he passed them in the corridor.
Lorgin’s thunderous expression followed him down the hallway, then turned on Deana.
She shrugged sheepishly. “A fluke. How many people have a cat for a brother?”
He took her by the arm dragging her down the hallway. He was not amused.
Chapter Nine
She could hardly walk.
Deana gingerly stepped down into Laeva’s feasting room, wincing with each tiny movement she made. The source of her discomfort was sitting at the table, blithely wolfing down what looked like a flat loaf of bread.
Lorgin reached for a cup of that gluey paste drink everyone around here seemed to be mad about, noticing she had entered the room. Motioning for her to seat herself in the empty chair next to him, he poured her a large cup of the godawful stuff, placing it on the table in front of her chair.
Sitting down very carefully, Deana stared dismally at the paste. Under the best of circumstances she was not a morning person. This was not the best of circumstances. Resignedly, she took a sip of the gooey junk. A twinge of protest echoed between her legs. She winced.
Then she became aware of Lorgin watching her over the rim of his cup.
Their eyes met.
He flashed her a knowing look which spoke volumes of insufferable male pride. He casually ran a hand through the length of his hair on the right side of his head.
“You are sore, Adeeann?”
She almost spit out her drink.
Lorgin addressed the table at large. “Our journey has been tiring for her. She is not used to so much physical exertion.”
Deana didn’t miss the mischievous little dimple that creased Lorgin’s cheek. Nor did she miss Rejar suddenly showing an interest in examining his plate, the corners of his sensuous mouth twitching as he tried not to burst out laughing. She threw Lorgin a venomous look.
“Gharta.” Lorgin mouthed the word at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in amusement. He so enjoyed igniting his Little Fire. In every way. Ignoring her obvious irritation with him, he placed his arm around the back of her chair, letting his fingers dip inside her tunic under her hair. He idly stroked the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck as he resumed his conversation with Yaniff.
Deana turned and stared at him in disbelief.
It was a blatant act of possession.
Did the man never listen to her? Had she been talking to the rock wall last night? Apparently she might as well have been. Of all the nerve!
She clenched her teeth, muttering under her breath, “Lorgin ta’al Arrogant Krue.”
She didn’t think he’d heard her because he continued on with his conversation with Yaniff. That is, until she felt his finger slide vertically down her neck, followed by a sharp little jolt. She jumped in her chair. “Yeow!”
He briefly glanced her way, speaking to her in a low, authoritative tone. “Behave yourself.” She narrowed her eyes at him. Unconcerned, he turned back to Yaniff. “I am hoping to find al Nek this day so that we may continue on without delay.”
“Yes, that would be the course.” Yaniff broke off a small piece of flat bread for Bojo. The beast daintily nibbled the crumbs from the old man’s fingers.
Laeva looked up from her bowl of fruit. “Greka al Nek? Are you talking about that slimy trader from the Oberion colonies?”
“The very one.” Yaniff took a sip of his drink. “Do you know him, Laeva?”
“I have treated him once or twice. A man like that always has somebody out to kill him. A couple of times they nearly succeeded. I swear, the trader has more lives than a cat.” She quickly looked at Rejar. “Sorry.” Rejar inclined his head.
Laeva turned to Lorgin. “What do you want with riffraff like him?”
Lorgin’s eyes met Yaniff’s. “He has some information I need.”
“I see. Well, if you hurry, you might catch him in the square. He sometimes comes early to peddle his wares to the merchants here. There was talk recently that he had just returned from a caravan to the far sector—if you believe it.”
Lorgin, Rejar, and Yaniff immediately stood.
“Thank you, Laeva. For everything,” Lorgin said as he pulled Deana out of her chair. “We must make haste to depart at once.”
“I haven’t finished eating!” Deana protested.
“I will purchase something for you later—hurry, Adeeann! We must not miss him.” Waving good-bye to Laeva, Deana was quickly ushered out the door by the three men.
&nb
sp; They found al Nek about a half hour later in the middle of the square, sitting at a small cafe type table. Deana tried not to stare at the alien. It was not easy. His skin was a patchy, bumpy, grayish hue. He was small, probably only about five feet tall. His three hands each had eight long, thin fingers, sporting even longer talons at the ends. He was one ugly dude.
Al Nek was drinking a bubbling hot brew from a tiny cup. The smell of it almost made Deana gag. His beady little eyes assessed them all silently, finally resting on Deana. His lascivious perusal made her skin crawl; she moved closer to Lorgin. A flick of his eye was the only indication she got from Lorgin that he was aware of her action.
“What can I do for you, esteemed travelers?” Al Nek’s voice was nasal and tinny. It grated on Deana’s nerves.
Placing a booted foot up on an empty bench, Lorgin leaned toward the slimy trader. Deana didn’t doubt that Lorgin’s stance was purposely chosen to be intimidating. From the look on Greka al Nek’s face, it was working.
Lorgin’s steely lavender gaze pierced him. “I have need of some information from you, al Nek.”
The trader’s eyes instantly took on an avaricious gleam. He motioned to the empty benches around the table, inviting them to sit. No one did. He didn’t seem the least insulted. “I see. And what is this information you seek of me?”
“It is said you recently returned from a journey to the Rim. Is this true?”
Al Nek shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Ah, truth—what a relative concept.” He slowly sipped his drink, taking his time before he replied, “Information dependent on truth…could be costly.”
Lorgin narrowed his eyes. “How costly?”
Al Nek’s eyes trained on Deana who was unconsciously clutching a piece of Lorgin’s cloak. “The girl?”
“What about her?” Lorgin’s tone was stone cold.
“Perhaps we could work something out. She is very comely in an exotic way. There are many who would pay highly for her. What if…you trade her for this information you seek.”
In the blink of an eye, Lorgin was holding the Cearix to the man’s throat. “What if, instead, al Nek, you give me the information I seek…and I let you live.”
Al Nek swallowed nervously. When he spoke, his voice was even higher. “This could be agreeable also.”
“Were you at the Rim recently?”
“Yes—a small caravan, you understand. We almost did not make it back. A most inhospitable region, that.”
“Did you hear anything that might be of interest to the Charl?”
The little man’s eyes shifted apprehensively from Lorgin to Yaniff. “Th-there was something. But I thought at the time it was nonsense. Surely, you do not—”
Lorgin pressed the blade tighter against his throat. “Tell me.”
“There was a rumor—just a rumor, mind you—that someone had found a phasing stone.” Lorgin looked at Yaniff over the trader’s head.
“Do you know who has the stone?”
“I-I saw a man there. On one of the Rim planets. He was a mystic like you. By his cape—power of the Six.”
Lorgin took a deep breath. “What was his name?”
“I do not know th-that he has such a st-stone…” The trader was clearly terrified of what this man might do to him should he find out about this conversation.
“What was his name?” Lorgin repeated. Deana could see he was beginning to lose patience.
“He—he said his name was Theardar.”
Lorgin sucked in his breath, his eyes meeting Yaniff’s once again. He reached into his cape and threw the slimy little man a gem. “For your cooperation.”
Greka al Nek was clearly surprised by the payoff. He was glad to still be alive. He did not doubt that the man with the golden hair would have killed him in an instant if it suited his purposes. These Charl were a breed apart. Most knew better than to ever cross one.
Al Nek tried not to think of what would happen to him should Theardar come across his path again. He looked at the golden-haired man speculatively. Perhaps it would be in his best interest to befriend this knight. One could never be too careful.
“Sir, perchance I can be of further assistance to you?”
Lorgin’s head whipped around. “What do you mean?”
“Some pleasure after a long journey, perhaps? I have many fine chaktan’s available for hire.” He looked hopefully at Rejar. “Even the Familiar would not be disappointed.”
Rejar leveled a searing glare at the disgusting little man. “This Familiar does not pay for his pleasure, trader.” He turned his back on him in disdain, walking away.
Yaniff spoke for the first time. “If I were one such as you, Greka al Nek, I would not be overly concerned about a Familiar’s pleasures. No, I think I would spend my time wondering if it is possible to avoid a sixth-level mystic and, if so…for how long.”
As they left the square, Deana glanced back at al Nek, noticing his hand shook as he raised his drink slowly to his mouth.
Once they had reached the esplanade, Lorgin led them into a small eating establishment, securing a table in a quiet corner. Yaniff wandered off with Bojo, saying he would be back shortly.
“I will bring you something to eat, Adeeann.” Deana perked up in anticipation, until Lorgin returned with a cup of the dreaded glue.
Her shoulders sagged. “Is this all they had?”
“You are not fond of Rasking? On my home planet, Aviara, this is considered a delicacy.”
Rejar looked up at Lorgin’s words, his dual-colored eyes twinkling. The two brothers exchanged glances.
{Yes, Adeeann. Rasking is considered quite a treat on Aviara. Then again, most things are considered a treat on Aviara.} Rejar sighed mournfully.
Deana looked up from her drink, trying to decide whether to swallow it or go hungry. “What do you mean?”
Rejar nodded to Lorgin. {Has he not told you?}
“Told me what?”
Lorgin looked at the ceiling. “Now you have done it, Rejar. I was going to break it to her gently, but, as usual, you have spoiled my methods.”
“Break what to me?”
Lorgin shrugged. “There is no hope for it now. I will have to tell her.” He took a deep breath. “This is considered a delicacy on Aviara, Adeeann, because we have nothing to compare to it.”
Deana’s eyes widened. Was he telling her this was a gourmet selection on Aviara? If so, what kind of gunk did they eat?
{So true, Lorgin. Our food is…} Rejar let the thought trail off, content to let Deana draw her own assumptions.
“It is because of our weather, of course.”
Deana turned to Lorgin. “What’s wrong with the weather?”
“Bitterly cold all the time.”
{Except when it is scorchingly hot.}
Deana looked from one brother to the other. They both returned a bland expression to her. She chewed her bottom lip.
“Did you say we were going there soon?”
Lorgin looked at her straight-faced. “Absolutely.”
Jeez, this place sounded like a pit hole. Maybe she could talk Lorgin out of it. “Do we have to?”
He looked at her through veiled eyes. “Yes.”
Deana slumped in her seat.
Yaniff returned, sitting on the bench opposite her, speaking directly to Lorgin. “So…the time has come for us to deal with Theardar. I tried to warn the Guild of the repercussions when they excommunicated him, but they would not listen.”
Lorgin seemed surprised by Yaniff’s admission. “You did not agree with their actions?” Although he had overheard his parents discussing it often, in hushed voices, he was a young boy at the time and had no real memory of the event.
“No, I did not. I wished to counsel Theardar, but they would not hear of it. They wanted him removed from their presence for the terrible deed he had committed and would not relent. I warned them that their actions that day would come back to haunt them.”
“They say he is mad.” Lorgin looked questionin
gly at Yaniff. “They say he has been mad for years. That he could not control his power and went insane. Is it true, Yaniff?”
Yaniff did not immediately respond. When he did, his voice was laced with sorrow. “It is the boy who suffered.”
Lorgin closed his eyes. “Traed.”
“Yes, Traed.” Yaniff wiped a hand across his eyes. “Even now I think of him.”
“Why was nothing done at the time to prevent it from happening? He was so happy with us.”
“One cannot separate a man from his son so easily. It was Theardar’s right—he chose to exercise it.”
Lorgin’s fist crashed against the table. “At Traed’s expense!”
Yaniff nodded sadly. “You must seek him out, Lorgin. Find him on the barren world of Zarrain where he has exiled himself.”
Rejar’s eyebrows raised. {He is on Zarrain? Why would he go to such a bleak place?}
Yaniff’s shoulders sagged. “A man who has suffered as Traed has will often take himself to a place which outwardly mirrors his inner spirit. Find him, Lorgin, and convince him to return to Aviara with you. I see now his presence is essential to the outcome of this quest.”
Lorgin leaned his back against the wall. “If what you say is true, he will never leave Zarrain. He loathes Theardar.”
“He will remember your friendship, Lorgin. Use it to make him come.” Lorgin reflected on Yaniff’s words, not at all comfortable with using their boyhood friendship to manipulate Traed. Yaniff’s eyes pierced Lorgin. “It must be done, Lorgin, or all is lost.”
Lorgin turned away, then nodded curtly.
Deana, who had been listening to the whole exchange, was fascinated by what she had heard. Not that she understood most of it. “What’s a phasing stone?” she whispered to Rejar.
{Phasing stones make up the Shimalee—like the one you wear, Adeeann. Each Shimalee is somewhat different from the others. The one you wear, for instance, has one stone. Some have many stones, depending on the design matrix and how they line up to atunement.}
Deana thought about Rejar’s words. “So, if this Theardar guy only has one stone, what could he do with it?”
Lorgin answered her. “In and of itself, nothing. Phasing stones, like the Shimalee, can fold space and time. But in order to do this they need a diviner—one who ‘sings’ to them. Theardar does not have this ability.” He glanced at Yaniff. “However, should Theardar somehow unlock the secrets of the stone, there is no telling what could happen. We might see—”
