The Clinic

by Cate Culpepper

  Jess leaned forward to lower her head completely beneath the chilled, dancing water again. Brenna reached her while her head was still submerged, and at first she thought Jess was merely startled.

  Her reaction to the touch of Brenna’s hands on her back was galvanic. She reared up on her knees like a branded stallion, slinging jets of water from her black hair, and there was nothing sane in her face.

  “Jess, it’s me!” Brenna gasped. She fell to her knees in the water and gripped Jess’s arms. “You idiot! I don’t care how strong you are, your heart can’t take—”

  Jess shook off her hands effortlessly and clasped her wrists. With both of them kneeling, she towered over Brenna. A greedy light ignited her features.

  “Every time you touched me.” Jess’s brogue was soft. “Whenever I felt your fingers on my skin, sweet Brenna, I felt my mouth on you.”

  “Jesstin, make sense.” Brenna pulled one hand free and cupped the back of Jess’s neck. “That fever might—”

  Jess lunged to her feet, carrying Brenna with her. Pure instinct reigned then, on both sides. Brenna fought to free herself, and Jess fought to carry her to the bank. Jess was bigger, but it took all of her strength to haul Brenna out of the river and up the muddy bank.

  Jess had been away far too long. She was going home.

  She threw Brenna’s struggling body down in the grass and stood over her, one foot on either side of her waist. “I’ll not break my word, Brenna. If you still refuse my touch, say so now.”

  The rational tone seemed to belong to a different woman. The one standing over Brenna knelt in the grass by her side and began to strip her. She bared the gold mound between her thighs first. Then she snatched her sweater open, baring her full breasts.

  “I felt it the first time you touched me, and so did you.” Jess pushed Brenna’s knees apart with gentle, but inexorable strength. “Your touch was as welcome and dear to me as sunlight, Brenna.”

  Jess stared down at her soft, exposed center. Brenna moaned and turned her head on the grass, feeling that gaze on her labia as palpably as heat. Abruptly, Jess snugged her cold, wet palm against her quivering cleft, and the moan ended in a cry of shock. But Brenna made no move to cover herself.

  Brenna had never traveled here. She hadn’t known this place existed. She didn’t know herself here, but she wasn’t afraid. She couldn’t take her eyes off the austere beauty of Jess’s face.

  “I’ve come for you, lass.” The brogue rendered Jess’s voice as soft as moss. “I’m taking you home.”

  Jess’s gaze fastened for a long moment on Brenna’s shuddering breasts, then moved lower. Her long fingers began stroking her wetness.

  “Jess,” Brenna gasped. The fingers dancing slowly in her cleft hesitated, but when Brenna said nothing more, they continued their languorous twirling.

  Jess entered Brenna carefully, slowly, unaware of the tears blurring her vision. That she was capable of such self-restraint was testament to Dyan’s rigorous insistence on self-discipline. Like all Tristaine’s warriors, Jesstin had had her moments of youthful rebellion against such restrictions. Now, she used that inner strength to protect her lover against her own raging blood. She took her time, working Brenna gently, allowing small muscles to relax, listening to her hitching breathing to gauge her rising desire, then moving deeper.

  Brenna lifted herself briefly on her heels as Jess sank in fully, the dark, swirling pleasure spiking so quickly she couldn’t suppress her reaction in spite of her efforts. “Damn you, Jesstin,” she whispered.

  “I wanted you, every time you looked at me.” Jess’s voice grew more even as she settled into a rhythm, her thumb circling gently over Brenna’s tight center, her long fingers delving in and out in skilled cadence.

  Brenna moaned softly, and Jess’s eyes moved to her flushed face. “In the storeroom. When I saw your face above me. I wanted you even then, adanin, and your eyes held the same light.”

  Brenna emitted another sound, more like a groan, and Jess’s words cut off as her own arousal coursed higher. She had to lower her head to Brenna’s stomach for a moment, but her fingers never stopped their gentle, relentless attack.

  Brenna’s belly flooded with heat, and a fiery pleasure coursed through her nipples and returned to simmer in her loins. She tried again to moan out a protest, but all that emerged this time was Jess’s name. Brenna knew her movements were changing; she had begun undulating beneath the tall form pinning her. When Jess raised her head, she saw that Brenna’s lidded eyes were filling with need.

  “You’ve only known me powerless, Bren. Don’t make the mistake of believing me so now.”

  She covered Brenna’s mouth with her free hand. Then she bent, fastened her lips around her protruding clitoris, and nibbled it gently.

  Climax hit Brenna so fast and fiercely she convulsed with it. Her hoarse scream was drowned by Jess’s hand over her mouth, but her lips opened against her palm as she screamed again.

  The spasms in Brenna’s center began to subside, and Jess released her. After a moment, she worked her fingers slowly and gently from between Brenna’s splayed legs, leaving her emptied.

  Jess climbed to her feet in stages. She looked down at Brenna silently, her hair and black clothing still dripping with river water. She didn’t move to help her stand, and Brenna did not ask her assistance.

  Brenna adjusted her clothing slowly and got to her feet. They studied each other in the birdsong silence. Jess regarded her calmly, and her expressive features held no regret.

  And Brenna discovered she felt none. Against all logic, she was filled with a shimmering peace. She wondered again if she was losing her sanity.

  Jess’s head lifted imperceptibly when Cam’s whistle reached them from the other side of the trees. The low, musical note held apprehension, and Jess answered at once, with a trilling whistle of assurance. A moment later, a third whistle acknowledged her.

  Jess looked back at Brenna and then at the open land around them. Her expression changed, her eyes growing dark. “I could have brought a search party down on all of us.”

  “It was the fever,” Brenna said gently. She was still trembling. “You’ve been…out of your head, Jess.”

  Jess stared at her.

  “You didn’t hurt me,” Brenna added.

  “I know that.”

  “Jess, you were delirious.”

  “No, I wasn’t. Not then. My fever broke in the stream, Brenna.” She nodded toward the trees. “Let’s get under cover.”

  Brenna followed her into a sparse copse of aspen. Jess walked soundlessly over the leaf-strewn ground, and Brenna tried to step in her footprints, to achieve equal stealth. Soon she was hopping from print to print, and annoyance burgeoned in her chest.

  “Slow down, Jesstin.”

  Jess ignored her.

  “Hey.” Brenna trotted a few steps and caught her arm. “Walking, at any speed, is not particularly comfortable for me at this time. You’re being rude, Jess.”

  That seemed to sting. Jess turned back and rested her hands on her hips.

  “Look, I haven’t mastered the whole Amazon-stoic thing, just yet.” Brenna folded her arms, shivering with the chill the mountain breeze sent through her damp clothes. “You just blew the top of my head off back there, Jesstin. A moment to collect my thoughts is not too much to ask.”

  “Can’t you collect while we—?”

  “No. Listen, you had plenty to say a few minutes ago, and I heard you out. Now it’s my turn.” Brenna stepped closer to Jess, searching her face. “You were right. You weren’t alone down there, in what you were feeling. I’ve dreamed about you every night since we met. I saw your face every time I closed my eyes. You haunted me, Jess.”

  Jess closed the distance between them, until Brenna’s breasts nestled beneath her own. She warmed Brenna’s arms with her hands until she stopped shivering.

  “And we still have some unfinished business.” Brenna curled a hand beneath Jess’s hair and cupped her neck. “No
w, when we’re both more or less sane. We were rudely interrupted the first time.”

  Jess bent her head and then hesitated, her lips a mere inch from Brenna’s. Brenna rose on her toes and met her, and their mouths blended in a rush of exhaled sighs. Their heat was more tender than passionate now, a glowing ember rather than flame. Brenna trailed her fingers down the side of Jess’s face in something like wonder.

  Camryn’s second whistle parted them.

  Jess lifted her head, her eyes filled with bemused regret. “We’ll have time,” she promised. “We’ve got to find safety first.”

  Brenna nodded. Jess offered her hand, and she took it. They walked together deeper into the trees.

  *

  Jess stalked silently into the camp, past the worried scrutiny of Camryn and Kyla, and on to their packs. She rummaged in Brenna’s kit and withdrew a small packet.

  Kyla glanced at Brenna’s damp jeans as she joined them and put a questioning hand on her wrist. Brenna shook her head and nodded toward Jess. They watched her dry-swallow a capsule, then pull some folded clothing from the pack.

  Jess went to Brenna and handed her a stack of dry clothes. Her step on the sandstone wasn’t quite steady. The abrupt retreat of the fever left her feeling temporarily as weak as a pup. And cold. And disoriented. In addition to all the other things Jess was feeling, none of which she had time for now.

  “All right.” Jess rested her hands on her hips and regarded Kyla and Camryn. “Physically, I’m rockier than I let on. I’m going to be fine, but I’m not at my best. Okay?”

  “Okay.” Kyla nodded.

  “Right now I can travel well enough, and fight if necessary. But if the fever kicks in again, I might get spacey.” Jess appraised them for a moment. “The three of you can take me if you have to. Act fast if need be, Cam. Don’t fuck around.”

  Cam swallowed visibly. “Okay, Jesstin.”

  Kyla nudged Brenna and lifted her eyebrows. Brenna shrugged and nodded.

  They struck camp at sunset.

  Chapter Eight

  They hiked through a misting rain for the first two hours. The terrain was rocky forestland in the middle of the wet season, and slogging through mud puddles became routine. The clouds began to disperse an hour after dark fell in full, and lacework glimpses of stars appeared overhead.

  “I’ll show you in the morning. Moonlight’s lousy for this.” Kyla was holding up the tail of her shirt for Brenna, who was squinting at the intricate design etched into the skin of her belly. “It’s just my guild’s crest and the symbol for Tristaine. Pretty, though, huh?”

  “It’s amazing.” Brenna straightened, and she and Ky trotted a few steps to catch up to Jess and Camryn. “Jess’s glyph’s on her shoulder, but yours…”

  “Yeah, they can be anywhere. You should see Cam’s, Brenna. It’s really gorgeous.”

  “Pass,” Camryn said stolidly, skirting a snarl of roots in their path.

  Kyla snickered. “She won’t show you because she put hers smack between her two warriorly breasts. But Cam’s glyph has the warrior’s arrow, just like you’ve seen on Jess’s shoulder, and Tristaine’s stars, which all of us have.”

  Brenna remembered the scattering of lights across Jess’s design. “Are Tristaine’s stars up there tonight?”

  “Should be.” Kyla trotted a few yards up a hill and spun in a slow circle, her eyes trained on the sky. “Come on. Gaia knows I’ve waited long enough for a sky fix,” she muttered. She began walking backwards as the others reached her, squinting at the heavens.

  “A wise warrior,” Jess lectured Camryn, “is never distracted. She keeps her eyes level, her senses focused on her surroundings.”

  “Well, I’m not a warrior.” Kyla laughed, catching herself lightly on Brenna’s shoulder as she stumbled. “And I’ve been shut in too dang long, so leave me alone.”

  The star field opened gradually above them, swatches of cloud drifting to reveal brilliant pinpricks of light.

  “There’s Anath,” Kyla said, pointing for Brenna, who turned to look too. “Bloody war goddess, Brenna. She’s great! And that cluster over there, they’re the Ghost Dancers, spirits of the first Amazon clan in the Far East.”

  Jess and Camryn both gave in to temptation, and the four women stood in a close group, searching the skies. Jess wrapped her long arm around Brenna’s waist as naturally as the cool night air brushed her skin, and she found herself relaxing against her.

  “Where’d they go?” Camryn was scowling as she craned her neck. “Shouldn’t they be right there?”

  “They are,” Kyla said. “There’s just still cloud cover over—no, look. There they are!”

  Brenna followed her pointing finger and saw one of the few constellations she recognized. Astronomy wasn’t a State-sanctioned science. The City’s light made much of the night sky unreadable, but tonight the star cluster known as Caesar sparkled brilliantly against a bed of ebony. The seven stars composing the Roman dictator’s reclining figure could be seen even through the City’s murky haze most of the year.

  “Those Seven Sisters are the Adanin, Brenna.” Kyla’s face was luminous in the moonlight. “They’re the Amazons who founded Tristaine. When the last of them lay dying, she wept at the thought of leaving our village without the wise guidance of the original seven. So Artemis set Kimba and her sisters in the sky, so they could counsel us forever.”

  “Kimba, Julia, Jade, Beatrice, Killian…” Camryn’s bony finger moved. “Wai Yau, and Constance.”

  “That’s Beatrice,” Jess corrected. “That’s Constance.”

  “Don’t think so.” Camryn shook her head. “I’ve got the sharpest eyes in Tristaine.”

  “They’re beautiful,” Brenna said. “I’ve never seen them before.”

  “Every woman in Tristaine chooses one of the seven Adanin as her personal guardian.” Jess stroked Brenna’s hair. “She becomes one of her Mothers, the goddesses she prays to.”

  “How do you choose one?” Brenna fixed on the small star glittering on the western edge of the cluster. “I mean, is there some system?”

  “The Adanin counsel our seven guilds.” Kyla leaned back into Camryn. “Wai Yau guides our mothers, Kimba, our warriors and hunters. Our gardeners choose Beatrice, artists have Jade, and weavers and other tradeswomen follow Constance.”

  “You would be Killian’s, Bren.” Jess showed Brenna the shining star near the center of the cluster. “She watches over Shann’s guild, Tristaine’s healers.”

  Brenna smiled, but her eyes lingered on the isolated spark of light in the west. “Who in Tristaine follows Julia?”

  “Julia,” Kyla repeated, grinning. “Isn’t she gorgeous? As far as we know, her line has completely died out, but she was Tristaine’s first great spiritual guide. She counsels our historians and seers.”

  “Seers.” Brenna felt deflated. “You mean psychics?”

  Camryn tittered. “Yeah, Julia must be kind of lonely up there. Tristaine’s never had one.”

  “Shann says that some women are chosen by their Adanin.” Jess’s breath stirred Brenna’s hair. “That’s not always lucky, according to our legends, but it’s always an honor.”

  Then Brenna felt Jess go still behind her. She looked up at her questioningly.

  “Did you hear that?” Kyla asked quietly.

  Then Brenna heard it too, an odd, muted crackling sound far in the distance.

  “North or east?” Camryn’s eyes darted across the horizon.

  “North. Listen.” Jess put a quieting hand on Kyla’s shoulder, and Brenna strained her ears, but heard only the chirping of crickets. Apparently the others detected nothing else that might prove more menacing, because after a moment Jess relaxed.

  “I’d feel better if we checked it out.” Jess took the rope from Camryn and secured it over her shoulder. “I’ll take Kyla and try for a higher vantage point. You two, keep to the route. We’ll meet you at the north end of the valley. Camryn, you know the rock formations in the clearing on the
north side?”

  Camryn nodded. “About a mile, maybe less.”

  “Look for us there.” Jess looked at Brenna and smiled reassurance. “Keep a sharp eye. It was probably an animal, but we need to be sure.”

  “Yeah, it’s a harmless grizzly or something,” Brenna suggested faintly.

  Jess grinned. “We’ll be careful.”

  “Bye.” Kyla stood on her toes and gave Camryn’s cheek a smacking kiss. “Come on, Jesstin. A warrior doesn’t sit on her butt when there’s varmints to track.”

  *

  Brenna and Camryn hiked side by side in a courteous but strained silence. Cam did crack a smile when Kyla unleashed an especially elaborate “all’s well” whistle, so they shared that moment.

  Brenna found herself talking to Samantha again, in her mind. Something about Kyla seemed to keep her sister just beneath the surface of her awareness. She tried to explain things to Sam and say good-bye.

  She was startled by the white, neatly folded handkerchief that appeared before her. Brenna smiled reluctantly, snatched it, and blew her nose.

  “You can keep that,” Cam said gravely.

  “Thanks, I will.” Brenna folded the kerchief into the pocket of her jacket. They walked silently for a while. “I was missing my younger sister,” she said finally.

  Camryn nodded. She stopped, took a small picture out of the breast pocket of her green shirt, and handed it to Brenna.

  Brenna tried to tilt the glossy photo to see the image in the moonlight. She made out the young girl’s face—smiling, a little homely, a little plump, beautiful. Brenna turned the picture over. On the back, in careful printing, were the words “Lauren” and “Twelve.”

  “This is your sister.” Brenna looked up at Cam. “She died with your friend, Dyan?”

  “They were murdered.” Cam studied the picture over Brenna’s shoulder soberly. “Shann thinks they only meant to get Dyan. They wanted to take one Amazon alive, to experiment on, so they took Jess. But Dyan they just wanted to kill. And Lauren…Lauren kind of hero-worshipped Dyan. She followed her around all the time. So she got hit too.”