thefiremargins

by Lisanne Norman

  When Jainie had gone, Kris looked back at Railin.

  "When and where will we meet you to get the plans?"

  "I'm in here every evening," said Railin. "I'll join you after I've done my storytelling."

  "You really are a storyteller?" said Jo, surprised.

  He laughed. "Yes. Jainie had it right when she said it was my living. I tell the stories the customers want to hear and they pay me! The winter's long up here, and tales pass the time."

  "Don't you ever run out of tales?" she asked curiously.

  "No. I go down to the lowlands in the summer season to collect more tales, and I talk to travelers like you. Now, if you've a tale or two to tell me," he said, "maybe I'll buy you an ale for the telling of it!"

  "You're on," said Davies.

  Railin got to his feet. "Time for me to begin, I think. The tavern's filled up while we've been talking. Are you staying to listen?"

  "I'm afraid not," said Jo. "I'm tired out. What I could really do with is a bath. I don't suppose ..."

  "There's a metal bath in each room. Jainie'll bring hot water up for you if you ask her," he said.

  * * *

  The room was basic, but at least it boasted four cots. Jo dumped her pack on the fourth bed, and began to take off some of the layers of clothing she was wearing to keep warm. A knock on the door heralded the arrival of Jainie— and Kris— with three kettles of hot water for her bath.

  She lay soaking in the hot water until it was almost cold before she reluctantly got out and toweled herself dry in front of the small fire. Shivering, she hauled some clean, dry clothes out of her pack. When she was dressed, she bundled the damp and dirty clothing up, waiting for Jainie to return. She'd offered to have them washed and dried for her by the end of the following day.

  Kris turned in before Davies. Jo lay with her face turned away from him as he washed and changed, so he could have some privacy. Scamp, not wanting to be anywhere near the wet stuff, had headed straight for her and was curled up under the bedding against her chest, purring happily.

  "I'll leave a couple of candles on for Davies," said Kris as he climbed into the bed alongside hers. "If I don't, sure as fate he'll fall over us when he comes up."

  "The light won't keep me awake," said Jo, yawning hugely. "I don't know where he gets his energy from! What do you make of this box Railin was talking about?"

  "No idea. It definitely sounds as if it's frictionless. Something that large wouldn't be that easy to move otherwise. Beyond that, we'll have to wait till we see it."

  Scamp had begun to move. He wriggled free of Jo's arms and scampered off to Kris. Jo could hear him chattering away happily for a moment or two, then with a small thump, he landed on her bed again, fussing round her face, snuffling at her neck before settling down beside her. He was purring loudly now, and one paw reached out to touch her face, patting it gently.

  "Off you go, Scamp," she said, gently pushing him, trying to encourage him to get off her bed. He wouldn't be budged. He curled his bushy tail round her neck, sending warm, gentle thoughts to her as he purred happily.

  "Scamp!" she said, pushing gently at him again, surprised at how heavy he'd suddenly become. A small tongue flicked out, touching her cheek. Again he licked her, moving closer till he was tucked around her neck and face.

  "Kris, I think you'd better come and get him," she said. "Much as I like him, I don't want to be suffocated in my sleep!"

  Kris called to him, but the jegget was happy where he was, thank you very much, said his thoughts. Throwing back the covers, Kris stepped over to Jo's bed, squatting down beside her. He put his hands round Scamp's middle and tried to lift him, but his tail was firmly coiled round Jo's neck and he wasn't going to let go. He liked this nice person, his thoughts said. His friend did too, so why couldn't they cuddle up to her?

  "Excuse me," he muttered. "I'm going to have to unwrap him." Kris reached for the offending tail and uncurled it despite the squeaks of protest from Scamp. As he did, his hand brushed Jo's cheek and he felt her flinch away from him at the unexpectedness of it.

  "Sorry," he said, embarrassed by his little friend's behavior. "He's never been like this before. I'll make sure he doesn't get out again tonight."

  "Just a minute," said Jo, sitting up and reaching out to pat Scamp before he turned away. "He's all right, Kris," she said. "Don't worry if he comes back over in the night. He's rather comforting to cuddle up to— so long as he's not trying to suffocate me!"

  Kris mumbled some vague reply and climbed back into his bed, thanking the Gods that Jo wasn't a better telepath. Had she been, she couldn't have failed to realize that Scamp's affection was partly due to him. That would have been all they needed on the mission: Jo terrified of him coming near her. As he wormed his way down into the bedding again, and tucked Scamp up against his chest, he wondered what had happened to Jo out on Keiss that she was afraid to let a man come closer to her. Whatever it was, she kept it a closely guarded secret. Her surface thoughts didn't betray even a hint of her fears.

  * * *

  Kaid surfaced slowly from sleep. His body felt heavy and languid, the echoes of pain not far away: he'd been given analgesics then, strong ones. His senses still heightened by the psychotropic drug, he gleaned what he could about his surroundings before opening his eyes.

  The scent of Noni was everywhere, but it was at least two hours old. He rotated his ears, flaring them wide, listening again for the slightest sound. There was none: he must be alone in the house. Opening his eyes, he looked around. As he expected, everything seemed real. That was the horror of the dreams— their apparent reality. All he could do was endure each one till it ended, taking him back to a world dominated by pain— and Ghezu.

  Slowly he sat up, flexing his shoulders, testing his back. Bearable, and movement felt easier. His hands next. He looked down at them, feeling the room swim slightly about him as he did. His injured right hand was bandaged. It had been treated. And his left one hadn't been touched. Curious. He had vague memories of Ghezu about to use the knife on him again.

  Cautiously he tried moving his unbandaged thumb and forefinger. They responded but the swelling of his hand restricted their movement. He tried his remaining two fingers. Barely dulled pain lanced instantly up his arm, making him break out in a sweat across his back and chest as well as the palms of his hands.

  Not good, he thought. He collapsed back against his pillows, taking short, rapid breaths in an effort to still the pain.

  It passed eventually, and, when it had, cradling his injured hand against his chest, he pushed himself upright again. Carefully, avoiding sudden moves, he pulled back the cover and lifted his legs over the side of the bed. Standing up brought the dizziness back but after a moment it, too, passed.

  His first call was to the water faucet for a drink. He filled the mug twice before his thirst was satisfied. Leaning with his back against the sink, he looked round Noni's kitchen. Why was he here? What thoughts of his had generated this dream?

  A slight sound from the partly open bedroom door drew his attention. His ears swivelled toward it, followed more slowly by his head.

  Pushing himself away from the sink, he moved toward the door. His nose picked up her scent before he reached it— a sharp musk that he knew only too well. Pushing the door gently, he held onto the wall and looked inside. Against his chest, the crystal began to warm.

  He knew now what had called him here. Carrie. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the wooden frame, ears folding back in distress. Once again his mind had be-trayed him.

  Vartra, why? Why does she dominate my thoughts like this? You know what I fear! You ask too much of me!

  Her body moved restlessly in sleep, her scent growing stronger as it drifted toward him, burning like fire in his lungs, making it difficult for him to breathe.

  She isn't even of our species, Vartra! She's alien— "... and she draws me like an insect to a flame," he said, his voice a bare whisper.

  He opened his eyes
, looking across to where she lay on top of the bed. The cover was dragged haphazardly across her, and her head was turned away from him. Beyond her, the window was open just enough to admit a gentle breeze that stirred her hair where it lay spread out on the pillow. It brought her scent to him once more.

  Then he was beside her, with no memory of how he'd gotten there. One of her legs lay uncovered, pale against the blue quilt. On her thigh he saw the faint line of the scar. He saw his hand, of its own volition, reach out and gently trace its length with a fingertip. Against her bare flesh, his pelt of brown fur looked wrong, as if he were the alien, not her.

  Hand trembling, he moved back. He wanted to touch her again, to feel the gentle swell of her firm muscles under his hands; to run his fingers through hair the color of sunlight, softer and finer than hair or fur that Sholans possessed; he wanted to hold her, let his tongue taste her sweetness again, his hands explore her, and hold her long, slim throat between his jaws as she accepted him as her lover. He wanted to be a million light years away from her!

  A low sound of pain came from deep within him. He felt the crystal begin to come alive, to pulse against his chest in a rhythm that was echoed in the tide of his own heartbeat as it speeded up, sending waves of sensual arousal through his body. The God spared him nothing! Against his calves, his tail swayed, echoing his inner conflict.

  I never wanted this, Vartra! To desire a female so much that it robs me of my senses even in my dreams! Why have you done this to me? Why do I fear to take what I want most? I have the right to ask her! I'm the third!

  A dream! It was a drug dream! He shook his head, trying to clear it, his ears rising as he realized the significance of what he'd said. His thoughts might betray him in his dreams, but he could also fulfill them. There was no harm in fantasizing: perhaps it would even release him from the strange hold she had over him. In a dream, he couldn't harm her— and his secret would be safe.

  He approached the bed again, this time from the other side, slowly lowering himself till he sat beside her. Reaching out with his good hand, he touched her face. Unbidden, memories of the last drug-dream came to him: the flickering flames of the Shrine at Valsgarth, the smell of incense— and her.

  Her eyes flickered open and she turned to look at him. "You're awake."

  "How long have I been gone?"

  She frowned, sitting up and reaching out to touch his face. "Some six weeks. I told you before. Are you all right, Kaid?"

  He reached out and covered her hand with his. As before, it was warm, flesh and blood, not mist. He turned his head, taking her hand to his mouth, placing it against his lips. The tip of his tongue fleetingly caressed her palm then released her as he reached out to place his hand against her neck, drawing her closer till he buried his face against her. Breathing in deeply, he drank in the new-washed scent of her body and hair before his tongue began to flick across her cheek to her mouth.

  "We did this before," he murmured before catching her bottom lip gently between his teeth. "You taste as sweet now." As her lips closed on his, her hands came up to touch his shoulders.

  The intimacy of her Human kiss took his breath away. Already sensitized to her, the wave of desire built in seconds, sweeping downward through him, tightening the muscles in the pit of his stomach and groin. Between them, the crystal flared hot then steadied to a different rhythm, pulsing gently in time with her heartbeat.

  He broke away from her long enough to climb onto the bed before gently urging her down beside him. Cupping the back of her head in his left hand, he leaned over her, lowering his face to hers, his mouth seeking hers, anxious to share another kiss.

  Hesitantly, her tongue touched his lips, pushing gently past them till she touched his teeth.

  He caught hold of her, pushing her tongue upward against the roof of his mouth, tasting her properly. Once more the tension built, flooding through him, triggering the release of his genitals.

  Torn in two directions, part of his mind told him to leave now, before it was too late; the other to stay, it was only a drug dream, nothing could go wrong.

  In that instant, what was left of his barriers collapsed as his mind exploded outward to hers, forcing a rapport, compelling her to accept the knowledge of what he was.

  Images flickered in front of his mind's eye, images of what he'd been, what he'd done; images he knew she was seeing.

  No, not this! Not again, Vartra! his mind cried out before she seized it, deftly taking control and slowing the memories till finally they stopped.

  You sent! You're a telepath, Kaid!

  The realization that this could be no dream hit him like an icy wave and he recoiled from her. As quickly as the rapport had begun, it was over, leaving him lying beside her, cursing himself as, once more, he retreated behind his barriers.

  He waited for the anger and recriminations, but she was silent. Pushing himself up on his good arm, he risked looking at her.

  "This is real, isn't it?" he said. "I thought it was like the last time, a drug dream. If I'd thought or known otherwise ..." He left the sentence unfinished as he looked away.

  She reached out for him. "You did nothing wrong."

  He pulled away from her, angry with himself. "I had no right to touch you. I knew what would happen if I did."

  "You thought it was a dream."

  "That doesn't excuse me!"

  "You don't need to be excused," she began. "Your lack of training ..."

  "Training be damned! I should never have let myself be talked into being the third! I should never have listened to Lijou and the others: they made me hope it would be different with you." He turned away, hearing the pain in his own voice, unable to face her or the truth about himself. Why was he denied the most basic of all Sholan companionship?

  "Fine. Have it your way," she said coldly. "Blame me because you've actually had the nerve to approach me. Run and hide behind your anger when it doesn't go as you expected! Why should I care? After all, it isn't me who's hiding behind the fear of pairing!"

  He turned angrily back to her, hurt beyond measure by her words. "Damn you, Carrie! You're using what you just learned against me!"

  She sat up, eyes blazing. "Too damned right I am! What do you expect me to do when you behave like this? Have I rejected you? Called you a cold, callous killer like she did? When I shared your dream of the pack wars in Ranz, I didn't even think that! You'd rather run than face up to this fear!"

  "I'm no coward!" His ears folded sideways with anger.

  "I know that," she said, her tone softening as she reached out a comforting hand.

  He pulled away, avoiding her touch. "What just happened to you, happened to Khemu— my mind swamped hers utterly, that's why she became pregnant. Whatever it is, I can't control it, Carrie! As long as I have a tight hold on my mind, I can block it, but when I pair ... I have a rogue talent!"

  She could feel his fear of being no different from the telepaths he'd hunted down for Esken's Guild.

  "No, you haven't! And I'm not Khemu! She was a young and partly-trained telepath who reacted badly to the touch of your mind! I didn't. It's me you're with, not her! Don't forget that as well as having a Sholan side, I'm also Human."

  He looked up, mouth twisting in a strange grin as his ears began to lift slightly. "I can't forget that, nor how Sholan you are."

  "Listen to me, Kaid!" she said, taking him by the arm. "You might not be able to control it, but I can. I'm not some Sholan Telepath with all the inhibitions they have trained into them, and their fear of pain— other people's as much as their own. I can see your darker side and not turn away from it— because Kusac and I both owe our lives to that part of you!"

  His ears flicked backward. He'd forgotten about Kusac, her Leska, his Liege.

  "Friend," corrected Carrie. "He's your friend, as I am." Letting his arm go, she reached out and placed her hand over the pouch that held the crystal round his neck.

  He felt it respond instantly to her touch, beginning to flare again.
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  "I know what this does, Kaid. I understand why Noni gave it to you. We all knew this pairing between us had to happen, we all agreed to it. Kusac's with Vanna, and believe me, we're the last consideration on his mind just now."

  The crystal was pulsing again, a rhythm deeper and older than time, vibrating through his body and dominating his mind. He closed his eyes, trying to suppress it, trying not to respond to her nearness again.

  "You aren't making this easy for me, Carrie," he said, his voice barely audible.

  "You're one of us, Kaid. Telepaths aren't supposed to live isolated from mental contact with others of their own kind. Because you've spent a lifetime suppressing it, whenever your barriers are low, your mind reaches out for companionship, that's all. We're at our closest to each other when we pair. That time for us is beautiful: it's sharing anticipation, sharing pleasure with each other." Her voice was pure Sholan, a low, seductive purr. "If you'll accept what you are and learn to live with it, it will never happen again, I promise you."