Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar)

by Chris Anne Wolfe

  “Covering for him — buying him out of trouble became a habit. If he hadn’t died that night, I would have deserved every public accusation your Sisters threatened to heap upon us. Because of my neglect of the problem I am just as responsible for those women dying… and just as responsible for those he mistreated before that night. I was ignorant, but no less guilty. At some level, I knew he was capable of it — or it wouldn’t have seemed so credible when your Sisters told me of his games… of his death.”

  His breath drew unevenly, but the hands that cradled the pipe were steady. “My son Dixon was dead. There was little that could done for those tormented other than knowing that, but there was much to be done to aid those still seeking safety. I was glad they suggested a way to make amends — of a sort. There will never be an end to the Dixons of this universe. But perhaps there will be an end to our blindness to their deeds.”

  Her hand squeezed his gently. But she held little hope.

  † † †

  Chapter Six

  A faint smile softened the curve of Elana’s mouth as she watched Di’nay’s half-submerged figure. Eyes closed against the weariness of the march, her Amazon sat in the steaming mineral pool, absorbing the subtle peace of Aggar. The water rippled with foaming lines that seemed to mirror the shimmering, opal-like veins of the cavern walls. A muted florescence filled the endless winding chambers, and the steadying warmth of the hot spring was a tangible touch of the stone’s cradle. The frothing waters were completely undrinkable; their mineral content was too high for human consumption. But the healing powers drew upon the strength of the raw lifestones, and Elana had watched the strained hunch of Di’nay’s shoulders ease beneath the bubbling waters.

  “Are you coming back in?”

  Di’nay’s eyes did not open, and Elana wondered again at the calm acceptance Di’nay had for her Sight. She drew near the pool’s edge and finished her thought aloud. “The Mistress would be chastising me if I ‘shouted’ so at her.”

  “Oh? Are you so much gentler with me then?”

  A whimsical expression brushed across her face as Elana sat, slipping her feet back into the steaming waters. “We have had our differences.”

  Diana laughed, remembering the cavern at Cellar’s Gate. She came across the pool and, standing near, tugged on Elana’s pale ankles. “Come in?”

  “I don’t need to.” Her breath caught then as she felt Di’nay’s gaze drift across her shoulders and breasts. Lovingly those brown eyes devoured her, searching for the vanquished bruises, and Elana realized the healing auras had reached into her own soul too. She felt nothing but warmth and desire at her Amazon’s appraisal… and pride that she could still draw the wanting from her lover.

  But need took a different form this time as Diana moved between Elana’s strong thighs, wrapping her arms around Elana’s waist. Her cheek pressed into the smoothness of her lover’s stomach as the barest of sighs crossed her lips.

  Tenderness swept through her as Elana held Di’nay near, relishing this rare show of vulnerability. She bent and kissed the damp, brown hair.

  “Have I thanked you for yesterday?” The murmur was low and muffled.

  Elana’s hair, silky and clean, moved around them as she shook her head. “There is no need. You have done much the same for me.”

  “That doesn’t lessen my gratitude,” Diana returned, tightening her grasp briefly. “The fears were not as bad as when I was caught on the cliffs waiting for you — ”

  “You knew I would come, yes?”

  A nod — satiny skin against satiny skin. “I did not doubt it. But the darkness and cramped space brought back other memories.”

  “Yes.” Elana’s touch was gentle on her face. “It felt as if you had gone very far away to a very isolated place.”

  Undisturbed, Diana nodded again; the balm of the raw lifestones had touched this too. “I had gone back to the mining accident of my childhood. But last night in the tunnels, it was different.”

  “You were not alone.” Elana’s quiet voice held no surprise.

  Diana drew away a bit and looked up into the blue depths of her lover’s eyes. “I realize you do not have to share your strength with me, Elana. I am grateful when you do.” A slightly rueful smile lightened their exchange as their gazes shifted. “It seems I have rather abused your gift on this journey.”

  Elana laughed tenderly, pushing a stray hair back from Di’nay’s forehead as she too thought of the cucarri. But Di’nay’s eyes were compelling, searching her expression with an intensity that quieted Elana. With a single finger, she traced the faint lines of concentration at the corner of that silent mouth. “You must ask me the question, Di’nay. I cannot guess your meaning clearly enough.”

  “Will you tell me something?”

  Di’nay’s amarin was clutching desperately for honesty, and Elana watched her closely. “I have always answered what I could.”

  Di’nay absorbed that for a moment, and Elana added, “I will say if I cannot.”

  Finally — uncertainly, Diana asked, “Are you happy being with me?”

  “Yes.” It was a quiet, unfaltering response, but not enough, Elana sensed. She waited, needing to understand this strange mood before rushing in with assurances.

  “Can you tell me why?”

  Why? Elana’s brow furrowed with her puzzlement.

  The warmth of Diana’s palms moved to grasp her waist, drawing Elana back from her confusion. “What is good for you in this? — our relationship.”

  “You are.” Elana quickly grabbed Di’nay’s wrists as the woman’s frustration threatened to separate them. With a sudden motion she caught Di’nay’s face between her hands, lifting the startled gaze to meet hers. Beneath the Sight Di’nay grew still. For an instant panic receded as Elana grasped the intent in her words. “You mean what do we share that is special to me?”

  Diana felt disoriented as she nodded. She wondered if it was from the withdrawal of the soft blueness or the warm hands.

  “Your respect… your…” Elana faltered. Di’nay had never spoken directly of love.

  “The Mistress gave you as much.”

  “No… or perhaps it is the combination of respect with acceptance.”

  She felt Di’nay begin to withdraw. Elana realized these things were uncommon for the women of Aggar but not within the Sisterhood. Any one of Di’nay’s House would grant her as much. She shook her head, finding words were difficult. “Yes, your Sisters would give some of this, but it is different.”

  With a sudden inspiration, Elana reminded her, “You have always said my Sight’s call never irritates you. You speak of it as a gift. Would your Sisters be as completely at ease with me as a lover?”

  Diana understood again how alienated this woman had often felt. But to her the gift was a part of Elana that she treasured dearly and would never wish to be deprived of.

  “You are not merely my friend, Di’nay. You cherish me as I am. You support me when I falter. You praise me when I succeed. I am what I am meant to be when I am with you… that is your gift — your gentle strength that I draw upon.”

  Diana laid the back of her hand against Elana’s cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I have worried about taking too much without giving anything in return.”

  “Have you forgotten Maltar’s prisons? Or Colmar after the birthings? How can you say you have not given me anything?” And disbelief grew to anger — anger that Di’nay could so belittle her own worth. “How dare — how could you be so blind?”

  “Not blind,” Diana assured her simply. “Merely frightened.”

  That stopped her, and Elana felt the sharp pain of their parting descend. Di’nay’s mouth moved to speak again, but Elana hushed her with trembling fingers — too quick for a sound to be uttered.

  “No,” Elana said gently. “At Melysa’s I said I was not ready to lose you. It was no less true as I followed our bondstone to find you in the bluffs. It was true for you too as you searched the passages of the Priory �
�� I will always be ashamed that I did not think of your coming until I saw you and Eitteh standing there undecided, staring at your sword. But that was death, Di’nay, and we would never be prepared to knowingly lose each other to death. Yet I am prepared to see you go… and I swear to you, I would not trade one day of what we share for anything. I would not change you. I would not change us.”

  “And if I chose not to leave?” Diana probed tentatively.

  She was incredibly still. Then the saddest of smiles grew on her lips. She shook her head slowly, kindly. “You would always be welcomed, but….”

  “But?”

  “My world is not yours. You would wither and die here on Aggar, my dearest Di’nay. I would be no match for the isolation that would grow, and…,” the pain was clear in her voice, “…I could not bear to watch you be destroyed like that.”

  Your world. Always the assumption of staying in your world. Why do you make it so hard to ask? Diana cried silently. Is it because you fear the questions so much? Is it because you truly fear a lifetime with me? Or do you hurt so much just thinking about leaving that you can’t bear talking about it?

  Elana’s lips were warm as they touched hers, easing the choked tension that was threatening to bring them both to tears. Their bodies sought comfort in their unspoken love, and urgency usurped gentleness. With eyes closed, they ran from their words. Elana’s legs clasped about Diana’s back, her hand possessively slipping behind Diana’s head, and the Amazon’s arms wound high to bring Elana lower as she urged Elana’s lips to part. Diana’s frustrations — her vulnerability — felt raw and reflected in the unfamiliar height Elana’s position gave her. Desperately she clung, surrendering her fears in blind trust, and Elana’s legs tightened in response.

  Breath turned ragged as wet mouths broke free to devour flushed faces. Skin browned and heated beneath urgent caresses, and gasping, Elana pulled Diana’s mouth back to hers. Plunging, giving — igniting the very core of Diana’s center, and the panicked fuse sizzled, flaming into white passion.

  In this passion the fear evaporated and with it Diana’s neediness, leaving a hunger to share, not to take. Her breath sighed as she drew Elana even deeper, and her hands loosened, finding the steam-moistened skin smoothed like silk beneath her fingers. Against her breasts she felt Elana’s heart pound in response, and her palms stroked the long lines of legs and back. She used her body to caress the shuddering figure wrapped around her. As her fingers drifted into the small space between them — following the tensed, brown thigh — the hands that had imprisoned her face sought her shoulders.

  With a gasp mouths tore apart as Elana arched suddenly, Diana’s fingertips slipping into velvety places. A single arm encircled Elana, supporting her… holding her from escape… pressing her forward into those caressing fingers. And Diana’s mouth found a taut, darkened nipple.

  Frenzied, tormented ecstasy drove her, and Elana moaned at the swollen, aching sweetness. Fingers teased, tantalizing her even as Di’nay’s lips coaxed shivering, silver trails from her breasts.

  She shook with the intensity of her clamoring senses, and her hands pushed at the shoulders in their grasp. Pushed and separated the hot mouth from her breast, but she could not say if she had wanted that. And she groaned as the moist, long fingers began to slow. Her head shook, not knowing what she needed, and she felt Di’nay’s arm loosen, allowing her to lie back and find the ground. Her legs trembled as Di’nay guided them from her waist to her shoulders, and suddenly frightened that her lover would step back beyond all reach, Elana’s legs tightened convulsively, her hands groping blindly.

  Words came… Sororian phrases. Hands met her hands. Lips turned to the fine hair along the inside of her thighs, and her legs eased their anxious clasp. The words drew her further on as always, and her body moved beyond that driving, shuddering need to a hot, blazing ache that seared the soles of her feet and steadied the beat of her heart.

  A gentle trail of kisses was broken by teeth that lightly tugged on the fine hairs. Warm breath sank into thicker hair, and Elana’s body was paralyzed. Lips lifted and words drifted to her. Her breathing started only to stop again at the softest touch of touches.

  Dear Mother… she had not dreamed of this… and then she was rising, pushing into the sweetest stroking.

  Diana moaned her name in pleasure and dove into the depths of her lover. She thought she might be lost forever in the honeydew scent and taste.

  The trembling drew her by surprise, and Diana’s tongue returned to the swollen bud, soothing… coaxing… in that last minute, drawing Elana higher beneath her stroking touch.

  With a shuddering gasp Elana arched — her body quivering… strong, full waves that washed the tension from her muscles… thought from her mind. The tender tongue gentled as the caressing warmth within spread, filling her hollowed shell of tissue and bone.

  Diana sighed, feeling the release in Elana’s grasping hands. With a selfish tenderness, she buried herself in the sweet moistness.

  Elana smiled, touching a hand to Di’nay’s head. This was her love, dearest Mother. There was not a thing in this world she would deny Di’nay… with a sudden gasp her hand stiffened, silver-white flames licking out again. The gasp became a groan, and arching, she found herself pressing upwards, urging Di’nay’s mouth to begin again.

  No, there was nothing she would deny either of them.

  † † †

  The world glowed with a diffuse light while dark blotches swirled recklessly. What sickening, complicated patterns, he thought. The pain in his head forced his eyes shut again; the black spots only became white ones and continued on their careless way. It must have been one hell of a crash.

  A low voice murmured somewhere, and he heard footsteps approaching from his right. As a reflex his eyes flew open, turning towards the sound. The pain stabbed sharply and sent his body trembling. He caught a glimpse of a tall figure kneeling down, but then everything turned into a senseless whirl.

  “If you can manage these, it will help your head.” The words were in Common.

  He forced himself to look again. The figure was oddly dressed in a loose-fitting shirt and an animal leather vest of some sort dyed in green. But the expression on the wind-tanned face was carefully neutral as the brown gaze peered at him. He closed his eyes a minute against the unaccustomed strain of using his vision and tried to think. He couldn’t even clearly remember the quadrant he’d been in. This person spoke Common easily enough, but there was too little accent to identify a particular world or corporation. He wasn’t even certain if he was dealing with a man or a woman.

  “I am Diana n’Athena,” the voice reached out to him again. “You are on Charlie IV, ATB.7-1000. Do you remember? Your ship was fleeing the border patrols and you were headed to the base. You were stationed here a while back.”

  “Aggar Planet,” he muttered, wincing at the way the words pounded through his skull. “Priority Redfire — must talk to the Commander.”

  “It’s been done.” A hand moved beneath his head and lifted.

  He accepted the pills and water that were pushed between his lips. Anything to lessen this splintering laser light in his head. But it was good to lie flat again.

  “Thanks.” It was a hoarse sound, he thought, but he was grateful. The ground seemed firmer under him after a moment, and the hand stayed, gripping his shoulder comfortingly.

  The words slowly made sense to him then, and his eyes flickered open. He was surprised to find his vision clearer.

  “Give the meds a few minutes to work before you try to move.”

  At last! he thought, then pulled his wits together. “Baily knows?”

  “The Chairman probably knows by now too,” Diana assured him.

  “How…?” His voice seemed to be growing fainter, but he was confused. Who else had he been talking to? He couldn’t remember.

  “You’ve been out for a very long time,” Diana explained, speaking slowly. “We are taking you back to base. Don’t worry, you
didn’t say anything to anybody that made sense. The locals don’t speak your language, remember?”

  “Yeah, non-tech.” He did remember. The tension in his stomach relaxed a bit, and he found exhaustion was overwhelming him.

  The hand on his shoulder squeezed as his eyes slid shut. “Sleep now. You’ll need it.”

  And as the pain receded he welcomed the calm.

  † † †

  Elana looked at Garrison closely. He was lithe and well-built for all of his skinniness. Although he was somewhat shorter than Di’nay, he wasn’t unusually small for a man of her planet. His dark hair was beginning to thin on top, and he had a beard that grew thick and straight. Save for his amarin and that beard, Elana thought he looked fairly typical for those in the Ramains.

  He would be conscious in a few moments, she knew, and because of the healing powers of the raw lifestones, he would find himself in much stronger shape than he had upon his first wakening. She had agreed with Di’nay, however, that the less he knew of the happenings at the Priory, the less awkward it would be for everyone. Neither of them particularly wanted the Empire to know of the Blue Sight, and any reports mentioning the locals’ dubious use of imperial technology would only stir suspicions of military rebellions. So Garrison would be told nothing of either. Enslaved and drugged to ensure compliance would be the story — anything else he would have to remember himself, and Elana knew that the effects of the Blue Sight would only allow him to recall the fantasy of his imperial workshop. And that would doubtless be remembered as awkward dreams.

  She looked at him, smiling; he did not strike her as the type who would freely admit to having hallucinations. He was about fourteen or fifteen seasons, she guessed, much younger than Di’nay. But then they were nothing alike, if her brief glimpse into his mind had said anything. Egotistical, she remembered — quick, bright and very conscious of it. Well, she supposed those were qualities for a good spy — one had better stay a step ahead of others or one would tend to get hurt.