Crystal Shadows Page 12

  By the time they gained the shore, full night had fallen. Derrin lifted Gina from the water and carried her a few steps before his knees buckled. He sank to the ground, supporting himself with one arm, gasping.

  Gina sprawled in the mud, coughing. “Well, we’re across the river, and I’ve swallowed all the water I could want.”

  Derrin’s laugh sounded more like a wheeze. “Gina, if you’d said you couldn’t swim, I don’t know what I would have done.” He pushed himself to his feet and held out his hand.

  She gripped it and pulled herself up. Her legs shook. Derrin slipped one arm around her waist.

  A violent shiver overtook her. “The temperature—it’s dropped so much.”

  “It’s close to freezing.” His tone darkened. “It’s not normal. It’s an effect of the Blight.” They stumbled up the bank and into the scant protection of the forest.

  Another shudder racked her body. “I’ve never been this cold.” The words stumbled over her numb lips.

  “We need a fire,” Derrin muttered, “but it will take too long to start one in the dark.”

  He lowered Gina to the ground and scraped away the forest litter and dirt with his hands and forearms. She wrapped her arms around her torso and squinted at him through the darkness, too exhausted to help.

  He burrowed into the soft loam, then pulled Gina in beside him and covered them both with the disturbed debris. “This should keep us until morning,” he said, pulling her close.

  She snuggled into the length of his heat and breathed a deep, shuddering breath. The scents of earth and strength enveloped her. Her shaking steadied.

  She closed her eyes and pressed closer, feeling a comfort she’d never experienced before. In her heart she felt something else, the glimmer of an emotion she dared not name.

  * * * * *

  Derrin plunged naked into the frigid water. Scooping handfuls of grit from the riverbed, he scrubbed his skin until it burned. He repeated the process with his hair. The last traces of mud dissolved. Finally, even his raging erection drooped.

  His thoughts were harder to erase.

  He glanced to the edge of the forest, where Gina lay curled in sleep, the heat of his body still alive on her skin. He’d awakened to find her breast under his palm and her round bottom nestled against his cock. Her mind had drifted peacefully in slumber, brushing against his own. How he’d resisted responding, he’d never know. Rock-hard and throbbing painfully, it had taken every shred of his self-discipline to extract himself from the debris-covered hollow and retreat to the river.

  He retrieved his clothes from the bank. He scrubbed the tough deerskin on a rock, then stepped out of the river and dressed. His shirt and kilt clung to his skin, his hair stuck to his neck in clammy strands. He shook, dog-like, then dropped onto the narrow strip of beach.

  A black mood hung over him. He’d been fighting it for days, and for a time he’d kept it at bay. Now it descended in full force. He turned to face it, grasping it with both hands, turning it this way and that, studying it as he would a rare crystal.

  He no longer belonged in the places he had loved as a boy. That fact in itself brought no surprise—he’d known it for years. But though he’d embraced his life in the Stronghold, Katrinth had never become his home. Between the wilderness and the city lay an emptiness too bleak to contemplate.

  Derrin suspected it was there he belonged.

  He could live with that—indeed, he had endured it for more than eleven years. No, the emptiness itself didn’t trouble him. What frightened him was the way it vanished when he looked into Gina’s eyes.

  He wanted her. He’d dreamed of it every night since they had been Na’tahar, and spent a good deal of his waking hours thinking of it, too. So much so that he’d almost forced his way into her mind a second time.

  What would it be like if she were willing?

  He closed his eyes and conjured an image of Gina—naked, soft, and open, her clothing strewn at the water’s edge. Her parted legs revealed the glistening petals of her sex. He could smell her excitement, feel the touch of her welcome on his mind. He stalked her like a wolf circling its prey. Then he pounced, caging her with his limbs, covering her with his body as he positioned his cock at her entrance and…

  Derrin gave himself a mental shake and stood up. He had regain control of his emotions. In the first days after the Na’tahar, he’d entertained thoughts of taking Gina again, body and mind, whether she was willing or not. He knew the desire had been base, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself from the fantasy. Then he’d come to know her, trust her, and the vision had shifted. Now he dreamed of her welcoming him into her body and mind. Dreamed she wanted the best within him to possess her. It was all he could think about.

  But it wasn’t likely to happen.

  Holy Lotark’s cock. How long had it been since he’d had a woman? He could barely remember. In the past, he and Ariek had hunted female companionship with amazing vigor, but for nearly a year Ariek had restricted his activities to Danat’s bed and Derrin hadn’t bothered to visit the taverns alone. He tried, but he couldn’t quite recall the details of his last sexual encounter. No wonder he’d become obsessed with Gina.

  But she didn’t belong in either of his worlds and wasn’t likely to accept him as a lover after he’d forced her to the Na’tahar. He remembered the shame and humiliation he’d forced her to endure and his gut twisted. Gina had felt the shadow of those same emotions when their minds had touched in sleep. He was very glad she hadn’t recognized the dream was a true joining.

  A sharp wind blew, sending a shiver across his skin. Last night there had been a summer frost, an extremely rare occurrence. The Blight was worsening, intensified by Gina’s presence. Derrin suspected the rift in the web wouldn’t heal until she returned to her own world.

  It was his task to send her back. It was the only way he could atone for what he had done to her. He dared not forget it.

  He pushed to his feet and strode to the tree line. Gina was sitting up, shaking wet leaves and clumps of dirt from her braids. Forest debris clung to her dress and grimy blotches decorated her face and arms. His mouth twitched. She didn’t look at all like the Gina in his fantasy.

  She shook a clump of dirt from the neckline of her dress and sent him a wry smile. “I must look like a fright.”

  “Oh no, Gina.” His smile deepened. “Mud becomes you.”

  Her eyes widened. Derrin couldn’t repress a chuckle—Gina was so easy to tease.

  “Oh, really?” she retorted. “Well, you don’t look much better, standing there dripping like a wet rag.” Her arm jerked forward. A handful of mud hit him square in the face.

  “Tarol’s blood!” Derrin made a blind lunge in Gina direction. His fingers slipped on her arm as she dodged past, laughing.

  By the time he’d wiped the muck from his eyes, she was wading in waist-deep water. He bolted to the stream and dove in after her. When he emerged, she’d gone under. He waited, tracking her with his gaze. When she came up, he slammed the surface of the water with his open palm, splashing her full in the face.

  Gina sputtered her outrage.

  He flashed her an innocent grin. “Just helping you wash off.”

  She kicked water at him.

  He feinted left and dove right, grabbing at her ankle, but missing. She rolled and continued splashing. He laughed and lunged again. This time, his hand closed on her wrist.

  He jerked her toward him. She fell against his body, her breasts crushed to his chest, her thighs pressed against his own. His laughter faded as his cock responded, despite the chill of the water. He drew back, intending to release her, but before he could, Gina raised her head and looked at him.

  She captured him with her eyes, snared him in the soft darkness of her irises. Once again, he was drowning within her. He froze, his heart pounding, and for an instant the desire to claim her lips was almost more than he could stand.

  Warning bells rang in his head. He couldn’t afford to forget who
she was, where she belonged. What he had done to her. He flung her away in his haste to escape.

  Gina floundered in the current. Derrin felt a stab of guilt, but he forced himself to watch her regain her footing without his assistance. She met his gaze with a questioning look. When he felt the tentative brush of her mind, he pulled his own mind back, rebuffing her. She reddened and turned away.

  He struggled to keep his tone impersonal. “You finish bathing. I’ll go start a fire.”

  He retreated to the shore, feeling Gina’s gaze on his back. By the time she joined him, he had a fire blazing. He nodded to her and headed up the river to fish.

  They broke camp at midmorning. The air warmed quickly, then closed around them in suffocating heat. The morning’s awkwardness lingered for a time, then, to Derrin’s great relief, the easy camaraderie of the day before returned.

  Their ascent into the mountains brought cooler air—a change Derrin welcomed at first, then regretted when a chill wind began to blow. They set up camp in a sheltered nook overlooking the valley of Fire Clan, just beyond the highest point of the pass.

  That evening, the temperature plunged again. Derrin watched as Gina attempted to light the fire. She sawed the bow across the spindle until her hand blistered, rejecting his offer of assistance. Finally, she gave up. She scowled with undisguised disgust as he sparked the blaze.

  “Why does it look so easy when you do it?” she grumbled.

  “Practice. I learned as a boy.” He stared into the fire. The childhood he had tried so hard to forget burned all around him, tortured by the flames of what had come after.

  He looked away. The spindle and fireboard lay nearby. He picked them up and turned them over in his hands.

  “Fire is sacred to the Baha’Na,” he told Gina. “Its creation is an act of love. The spindle is the male, the fireboard the female. Their child is a gift to the People.”

  “That’s a beautiful image.”

  “Isn’t it?” He gave a cynical laugh and felt the familiar bitterness descend. “In Galena, only the poor use fire. The wealthy don’t allow it in their homes. Why should they? Crystals provide the same comfort, without the risks.”

  He brushed his fingertip over the fireboard’s blackened socket. “It’s safer, perhaps—but what have they lost?” He let out a long breath. “Why were they so eager to lose it?”

  “Derrin…”

  He looked up sharply.

  “Why did you leave the Baha’Na?”

  His throat closed. The emotions rising in the wake of Gina’s question were too fierce, too painful. Several heartbeats passed before he trusted himself to speak.

  “It’s a long story.”

  Gina offered a small smile. “I have some time.”

  He sighed and put the fireboard aside, searching for an answer that made sense.

  In the end, he offered her the truth.

  “I didn’t want to leave, Gina. I left because Zahta told me I could not stay.”

  “Your own grandmother kicked you out? I can’t believe that!”

  He met her gaze. “It’s true. You must have noticed I don’t carry the name of a man.”

  “Yes. Bera told me you didn’t receive a guardian from the Goddess. She said you left the Baha’Na before your rite of manhood was complete.”

  He nodded. “I did, but I began the rites after my fifteenth summer, like any other boy, expecting to become a man. Under the Moon of the Falling Leaves, I stalked a mountain doe. I climbed a tree and waited for her to pass beneath me. When she did, I dropped and made the kill. I brought it to the Elders.”

  Derrin pushed to his feet and paced the flickering edge of the firelight. Words left unspoken for eleven long winters sprang to his lips, demanding to be set free.

  “Afterwards, in keeping with the customs of the Baha’Na, I traveled to the other clans and dwelt with each for a time. I was seeking a partner and a new home. I found what I sought with the Fire Clan. I fell in love with a girl more beautiful than the summer sky. She promised to join with me when I became a man.

  “By now I had passed my sixteenth summer. At the Moon of the First Frost, the clans gathered for the final test of the boys who would be men. I went with the others into the forest, to await the animal brother who would be my guardian. One by one the others were chosen, until I sat alone.

  “After four nights, Zahta came into my circle of stones and told me the truth of my birth. My father had been a Galenan trapper lost in the wilderness. My mother, a girl of only fourteen winters, saw him and thought to help. He accepted her aid and took her body as thanks. She grew round with the Galenan’s seed, and died soon after my birth.”

  Derrin entered the light and hunkered down, spreading his palms before the flames and hardening his heart against Gina’s cry of dismay. After all this time, he would accept no sympathy.

  When he spoke again, the lilting cadence of the Baha’Na yielded to the clipped syllables of the Galenan tongue. “Though Zahta had raised me as her own son, it seemed the Goddess herself had rejected me. My grandmother bade me leave the clans and seek my father’s people.

  “I left the village the same day. In the land of the Outsiders, I joined a large estate and made myself useful in the stables with the peasants and the slaves. I learned the language of the Galenans. I thought it a strange tongue, but stranger still were the customs of my father’s people. The rich gorged on plenty. The poor labored as property of the rich. Animals were penned, crops were planted in rows.”

  He dropped his hands but remained crouching, staring into the flames. “About a year later, I escaped and traveled to the port city of Sirth. Again, I found work in the stables—this time at a large inn. I watched over the patrons’ horses at night. A young aristocrat frequented the inn’s gambling house. His father, a horse breeder, imported stallions from the island nation of Loetahl. They were magnificent creatures. Ariek liked to visit the stables and inspect the horseflesh of the other patrons. We became friends of sorts.

  “One night I heard a scream behind the stables and found the innkeeper’s son tearing at a barmaid’s dress. The next instant my hands were wrapped around the man’s throat and I was pounding his head into the ground.

  “I would have killed him if Ariek hadn’t stopped me. He understood much better than I the price I would pay if I were caught. He dragged me to his father’s estate. There, I received a pallet in the stable loft and a job breaking colts.

  “Ariek spent much of his day in the stables or paddocks. Despite the difference in our stations, our friendship deepened. He had four interests—horses, gambling, women, and wizardry. I already shared the first. He soon pulled me into the others.

  “Ariek enjoyed his pleasures, but wizardry fascinated him above all else. He traveled to Katrinth and was accepted as an apprentice by High Wizard Niirtor. Some months later, he returned and showed me how wizards create crystals. I sank my mind into the seed, thinking I’d never seen anything so perfect. My thoughts concentrated at its center and the particles surrounding it fell into place.

  “I created a crystal of outstanding purity, entirely by instinct. Ariek was astounded. He insisted I accompany him to the Stronghold, but I saw no sense in it. The apprentice fee was staggering and the Hierarchy accepted only aristocrats. I couldn’t hope to gain admittance.

  “But Ariek wouldn’t let it rest. Before a week was gone I found myself in Niirtor’s workroom, attempting one of the more difficult crystals. When I succeeded, the old wizard’s face cracked in a gruesome smile. ‘I’ll pay your fee myself, boy,’ he told me. ‘It will make you some enemies, but I’ve coddled too many rich lordlings who fancied themselves wearing a black cape.’ He seemed to think it a great joke.

  “Many in the Upper House—Balek among them—opposed my apprenticeship, but in the end Niirtor prevailed. He was an odd old man, but a brilliant wizard and a good teacher. He died last year, just after Ariek and I entered the Lower House.”

  Derrin’s gaze found Gina’s. Her eyes were two
dark pools, shimmering with the reflection of the firelight. A fierce emotion surged. He turned it aside, though he ached to grasp it with both hands.

  “Gina, when Balek summoned you, my only thought was to take you from him and do whatever necessary to break his control over you—even kill you if that was the only way.” He stood and paced a few steps away. His next words would drive her away, but he couldn’t leave them unsaid. “I found a method only slightly less abhorrent. I entered your mind against your will. When I did that, I proved myself to be my father’s son.”

  “No!” Gina’s denial was swift and vehement. “Derrin, how can you say that? It’s not your fault I believed you meant to harm me. You saved my life!”

  He shook his head. He wouldn’t allow her to cast him in the role of hero. “You don’t understand. It’s not so much that I entered your mind—it’s how I felt when I was inside you. I gloried in it. I reveled in the mastery, the absolute control I had over you. I felt as I do when I create a crystal, only more potent, more powerful.” He saw understanding dawn in her eyes and steeled himself to deliver the whole truth. “I didn’t have to drive you to your release, Gina. I could have destroyed Balek’s control and gotten out of your mind before I gained that last bit of control. But I didn’t, because I wanted more than anything to feel you break. To feel that helpless pleasure wash over you.”

  Gina drew a sharp intake of breath and he looked away. “So you see,” he said softly, “the blood of my father truly flows in my veins.”

  A long moment of silence ensued, growing deeper and emptier with each passing breath. Derrin wanted desperately to bridge the void with his mind, wanted to let Gina feel the depths of his regret and shame for having used her so illy. But he did not. He wouldn’t ask her forgiveness. That would be an even greater insult.

  Several heartbeats passed, then he heard Gina rise and, incredibly, draw near. Her hands closed, warm and sure, on his upper arms.

  “Derrin, look at me.”

  He did so, turning in her arms, dreading what he would see.

  Her face was serious, but he saw no condemnation in her eyes. “Derrin, the Na’tahar was more than either of us could handle. I won’t…” A shudder ran through her. “I owe you my life. How can I ask you to be perfect? To resist a force beyond your strength? I can’t. And I won’t. Let’s forget it.”