Shadow And Light

by K. R. R. Bridgstreet

  He began digging a hole next to the mound for the poor dead woman just moments later, even before surveying the rest of the area. He didn’t have a shovel, so he began with his hands, then found a sharp rock to help him finish the job. Sardra bent to help him, and Kali sighed and joined their efforts. They had just finished laying her in the earth when the ground started to shake again.

  “Team,” Kali called. Ganshi had gone off walking in the direction of the mountain, mentioning something about sampling the sulfurous springs, so there were only three of them to lift the van. They circled it as best they could.

  As Kali began, her throat raw and dry, and Sardra and Roghur joined in, the van lifted about a foot off the ground, then clattered back down, tipping sideways in a loud creak of bending metal. “Burn this,” Kali cursed, and sat down on the swaying earth. When would it stop? Would it ever stop?

  She looked over at the rusted heap sliding sideways, back and forth in a metronome-like rhythm, and she began to laugh. Sardra turned to her abruptly, confused, but when she caught Kali’s gaze her face turned sheepish and she started to laugh as well. Roghur finally stopped singing and let the van move as it would. He looked at the two women blankly, then back to the van, then to the woman he had just laid in the earth.

  He began, stumbling with each of the earth’s rumbles, to push dirt into the grave he had dug. The look on Roghur’s face as he buried the young woman sobered the two women instantly. With a deep breath, Kaliana helped Sardra up, and they both began to help Roghur push dirt over the body.

  Kali heard footsteps approaching fast. “Ganshi,” she said, turning her head toward their direction. “What did you discover?” Instead of Ganshi, she saw three young men. They were completely nude, and they seemed not to see her or her companions. They watched soil fall over the body of the dead woman.

  “Kara...” the biggest of the men said, then he sunk to his knees and began to weep. One of the other men placed his hand on the large man’s shoulder and quietly wiped a hand across his own face, smearing dirt and tears. The third man walked over to Roghur, offered a hand to help him up, then knelt to finish the burial.

  As Kali watched them work, a wave of heat spread through her body, and her clit began to pulse. Dear Gods, did she have no control anymore? As if on its own, her hand strayed to her breast, and she fondled it as she watched the three men mourn. She knew she should not be doing this—this was beyond inappropriate—but her body seemed on fire.

  She needed release, and she needed it now. Her other hand was now resting on her mound over her robe, and she applied pressure again and again as she raked her eyes over the strange men, Roghur, and Sardra. Sardra looked stricken as she heaved for breath, clearly in some sort of mental anguish. This has to stop, thought Kali.

  “Sardra,” Kali called. “Come over here.”

  Sardra turned her large blue eyes from Roghur and the men and they met hers so intensely that Kali felt her friend’s need as greatly as her own. Sardra walked steadily over to where Kali sat. She stood for a moment, then removed her robe from her shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

  Sardra’s skin was white and smooth, luminescent in the moonlight. Her nipples were dark pink and pert on her small breasts. Kali wanted to feel them in her hands, so she beckoned Sardra to sit by her. Sardra did, and for the first time in Kali’s life, she felt breasts that were not her own, and the wetness grew between her legs. She stroked Sardra’s nipples delicately with her forefinger, then cupped her breast as she leaned in and met Sardra’s mouth with hers.

  A tiny moan flew from Sardra as Kali’s hand moved from her breast down the lines of her stomach, feeling the short brown hair of her womanhood before she slipped two fingers inside. “Oh Gods...” Sardra said, opening her legs farther and moving to unbutton Kali’s robe. Two other hands had appeared from behind Kali though, and she realized Roghur was undoing the top clasp, just as Ganshi had...how many days ago?

  Ganshi, Kali thought. Where is Ganshi? Kali did not want to upset him; she wanted him to join the three of them. Or the six of them, she thought as her gaze found the three nude strangers.

  “My friends,” Kali called breathily as Roghur moved her robe down over her breasts. Gods bless this young man. Brilliant in fixing her shoulder, he also knew how to touch a woman. Sardra must be so proud. “It is my pleasure to meet you. I am Kali, this woman is Sardra, and behind me is Roghur.” Kali’s mouth moved on her own accord.

  She could not believe she was introducing herself to three strangers at the same time she finger fucked one of her oldest friends. Every ounce of restraint she once held, every bit of the filter between her brain and her mouth and her body she had cultivated left her as if it had never been. But for some reason this did not bother her as she felt it should. The only nagging thoughts were of Ganshi. Where did he go? Why has he not returned?

  Ganshi’s swollen cock was the other nagging thought, a close second to his overall safety. Those thoughts came and went, and in came new thoughts of these three strange men, tanned and beautiful, clearly ready to join the two Masters and their student now that they had finished burying their friend.

  Their friend, now covered with a fresh mound of dirt. She felt comforted by this notion, strangely. But she relaxed, and forgot the plight of her world as wide, teary, green eyes in a handsome face appeared before her, gave her a brief kiss on her lips, and disappeared into her wet cunt. Kali saw one of the other strangers now knelt behind Sardra.

  He pulled Sardra backward, and Kali’s fingers slipped out of her. The man eased Sardra down on his shaft—Gods was he big—and her friend, the brilliant mathematician, began to service the other stranger with her mouth. The man had a thin streak of red blood running down his arm from what looked like a nasty cut. She would tend it—after. That must mean the hands massaging her breasts were still young Roghur’s. A quick glance at them confirmed her suspicion. She remembered the way his forearms flexed in the van earlier that day; he was so sure of his abilities to transport them all to safety. She felt safe here.

  “Roghur, you really can drive...” she mumbled, tilting her head back to kiss the young man. And then she sank into her own pleasure.

  Chapter Nine

  Fire consumed Jurad. Fire became him. Fire soared within him and without him. Fire pushed him upward through the black soil and jagged rocks. The soil ceased resisting the pressure of shadow and fire, and as if on wings, Jurad sped ever upward with fire at his side. This fire was his partner, his destiny. Jurad knew her. Kara. Jurad’s consuming blackness exploded into the night, Kara leaping up beside him and carrying him on waves of heat, rolling down the steep slopes of the northern mountain.

  Chapter Ten

  “Time to go, Chancellor.” Ganshi’s cheerful voice filled her mind, but Kali could not pull her eyes open. Her orgasm had been so intense that her limbs were refusing to move. A part of her wanted to lay here forever in this pile of sweaty bodies. But Ganshi had returned—she needed to rouse herself and please him; her fingers craved the touch of his skin.

  “Ganshi...” Kali smiled and finally opened her eyes.

  “There you are. Time to go, Kali. We have to teach your new friends a song.”

  Kali’s eyes saw first Ganshi’s sweet face hovering over her, and then she saw a light she hadn’t seen in days. The sun?

  “Ganshi, has the sun risen? Ganshi, you fixed it, didn’t you?” Kali’s voice rose to the edge of luminous hysteria.

  “No, Kali. It’s not the sun. It is the earth. The earth has erupted in fire—we now have One Mountain Standing. The other one is almost upon us. We need to move right now.”

  Kali sat up and saw the flames spewing from the exploded top of the northern mountain: Shadow Mountain. She felt the shaking of the earth now, but it was so steady, like the rocking of a lover, that she had overlooked it. The stream of lava was advancing steadily down the mountain, snaking around boulders, toppling trees and moving into the valley. The fire she did not fear; it was the sh
adow that paralyzed her. Seemingly surfing atop the lava, the huge shadow of a man moved with the fire.

  “Gods...” Kali whispered as Ganshi hauled her to her feet.

  “Men, we need your help to escape these flames. Have you heard of the eastern songs?”

  “They are our songs,” one of the men replied. Kali noticed all were standing, nude, eyes flicking between Ganshi and the advancing lava.

  “Get in the van,” Ganshi ordered, leading the way. The seven of them took seats in the van, and Ganshi began the song. Kali, Sardra, and Roghur joined in as before. The men listened for a moment, eyes widening briefly as the van lifted, and then they added their own voices to the song.

  Underneath Kaliana’s panic, she felt her stomach and chest tighten at hearing the strength of their voices. The van soared upward over the current of lava, but the shadow continued its advance, somehow being driven by the flames of the flowing fire.

  Kali watched the shadow move, consumed by flame, but she thought she heard...water? The strength of their songs carried them high on the winds above the erupting mountain. Ganshi once again sat holding the gyroscope’s controller, counter-maneuvering them toward the highest bluff they could reach to the south of the smoking mountain.

  They were able to land the van in the safety of a wide ledge near the top of the bluff. The folk called this mountain Sunnyside; when those folk got cheeky they called it Over-Easy. They were always so descriptive with place names, Kali thought vaguely. Not very creative, but at least you knew what to expect. They stood on the edge of Sunnyside and watched.

  The lava continued its slow and steady advance, and black smoke poured from the crater and shadowed the moon from the group of scientists, wanderers, and singers. The shadow emanating from the lava faded with the light of the moon, but the lava glowed brighter. Kali shivered, then felt a pair of hands on the backs of her shoulders. Ganshi pulled his body close to her back, leaning in to her neck and taking a deep breath.

  Kaliana knew it probably should have been strange that Ganshi wasn’t angry with her for sleeping with every single member of their investigation—and all at once, for that matter. But Ganshi clearly wasn’t angry with her. She felt his hardness pressing against her back as he held her close to him. Even stranger was the fact that she herself did not feel guilty about her actions, nor had she considered that they were anything but perfectly natural before this moment. She had totally lost herself in her body when her desire rose. She couldn’t have stopped herself from experiencing that sharing of pleasure and appreciation if she had wanted to.

  A cool gust of wind rose, the moon once more shone down, and the shadow again loomed. Kaliana shivered in Ganshi’s arms, watching the advance of the monstrous creature, wishing she could close her eyes against it but unable to blink. She watched the dark shape flow down the mountain, cross the valley, and slide toward the bluffs where the group now stood.

  She watched as she always watched: carefully, attentively. She listened, and she heard—water. Again, the sound of water seemed to emanate from the creature, flowing out of him, around the lava, as if the lava were oil instead of fire. It was almost like a dance, but Kali heard a song in that movement. Low and tremulous, her voice caught up humming the melody. The creature moved abruptly, but Kali only raised her voice, singing the song she heard, throwing it back at the advancing mass. Ganshi’s hands squeezed her shoulders tightly, but he said nothing, and Kali continued to sing.

  She sang water: water in the earth, water rushing over stones and through crevices, water surging into a pool, still water, water rippling; and she watched as the shadow rushed toward her, and she was enveloped in blackness.

  Chapter Eleven

  Tremors shook the blackness, and the fire that was Kara leapt through Jurad at the sound of the woman’s voice. Where all had been blackness, Kara’s light consumed him and filled him with ecstasy. He felt joy and love and peace in the wash of sound and light. He felt Kara, he felt at home, and he felt eternal. The sound sunk into him, and Jurad’s awareness surged toward it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Kaliana burned. From her toes to her scalp she burned, but the fire did not scorch; no, it engulfed but caressed; it seeped into her veins and she was alight with it; it ricocheted through her and emanated, screaming joy of itself. She felt joined, not as she had with Ganshi and later, with the others in their frantic lovemaking, but in absolute oneness with male and female, light and dark, God and man, and there was youthful exuberance pursuing each hot sensation. She wouldn’t have called it an orgasm if she could speak; she would have called it transcendence. She knew love now; she was love.

  She was everlasting.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kaliana’s body crumpled as the shadow washed over her. Ganshi grabbed under her arms and lowered her as her dead weight fell. He watched, astounded, while Kali’s lips moved wordlessly in a jumbled melody of ecstatic mystery that Ganshi could only think of as elemental: it was as if the earth itself was singing through her.

  As her body lay, wreathed in shadow, Ganshi heard the sound of moving water. It was faint, but unmistakable. It was as if a river was growing, stretching new trembling limbs out of the top of the southern mountain. It began like a faucet running over the side of the cliff where they stood hovering over the seething lava.

  The faucet trickle grew quickly to a gush, and water cascaded over the cliff above them. The force of it threw the stream away from the ledge where the small crowd huddled, stunned by the previous seconds of the strange song, the rushing shadow, and the incongruous river spraying them against the cliff with its waterfall vehemence.

  The momentum of the fall hurled over them, but they were now pinned against the cliff face, trapped behind the water that seemed to spring from nowhere and everywhere. Kali’s mouth still moved, and a look of calm bliss overspread her face. She was dying. Ganshi only saw that kind of peace on the faces of those who were slipping over into the next world. He knelt by her and stroked her face, moving a long dark brown strand of hair off her forehead with his thumb.

  “Don’t leave me yet, Kali,” Ganshi whispered to her. “We’ve just started. And you wouldn’t believe what you’re doing. You’re going to need to study this when you wake up.” Ganshi kept up a stream of words, loosing them without thought almost as fast as water poured over the mountain top.

  “Ganshi...” Someone was speaking to him, but it sounded far off under the roar of the water. He looked up over his shoulder. He could see nothing. Steam rolled around him, rising in huge clouds and obscuring everybody on the ledge. Kali still lay at his side, mouth moving, but he couldn’t hear the song she was singing anymore. He put his ear close to her lips, and barely a breath of air came through them.

  Sharp terror clamped down on his heart. He turned his head and pressed his lips to hers and breathed. The air rushed back out. He breathed again, forcing his air down into her lungs, and he watched her chest rise and fall. He breathed again.

  And again. And again.

  Steam was so thick now he could only see a vague outline of Kali’s lips a moment before he met them with his own. He kept breathing for her. He would do this as long as it took. She still had a pulse; he could feel her heart beating—hard.

  It was racing, but she was breathless. She needed him to oxygenate her blood. Gods, why did he have to fall in love with a goddamn genius? Rena from accounting never would get into this kind of trouble. The corners of Ganshi’s mouth turned up into a rueful smile as he bent once more with lungsful of steamy air to force Kali to breath.

  “Breathe Kali,” Ganshi demanded between breaths. “Breathe.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Light—that was what existence was. Light unending, and light expanding. Jurad, Kara, and Kali were bodies of light, flowing in and out of each other. No fire, no water touched them here. They were one being, joined by the force of their creation. Joy and peace were the light also. Love was the light; they were love; they were joy and peace.

/>   If they had eyes, they would see beauty in their oneness. If they had mouths, they would smile, for this light was more radiant than their lost sun, more familiar than the staring moon, and this light did not know bodies. If they had ears, they would hear perfect music; they would feel the thrum of every harmony ever written flowing through them. If they were bodies, they could not contain this. This was the origin of all music. This...

  “Breathe.”

  The light was fading. The ecstasy of oneness separated into two, then three, then more. Shapes fled before her. Fragments of song scorched the surface of her memory as a terrible cold sunk into her body. Her body. She had a body; she felt it struggling for air.

  “Breathe.”

  She felt air enter her lungs and leave them; that was supposed to happen. Why did it hurt? Where was the place of light? The song...she had to sing it. She had to snatch it from the abyss of separation; she had to join it with herself, with the man and woman who came to her to give her the song—but it wasn’t their song either. It was everyone’s song. Gods, it was slipping away!

  She heard a voice. It was hers, she realized slowly, and it was croaking pieces of the song she had heard creeping over the lava from deep within the shadow. Then she heard surprised laughter, but it was muffled under the noise of a dull roar that sounded like a waterfall. Heavy as they were, she pried open her eyes and saw white all around. Was she back in that place? No...she lost the song. Through the white a dark hand appeared, and she felt it touch her face. Ganshi. Kali smiled.

  “Kali,” he leaned down and said softly, “Kali, you made a waterfall. It sounds beautiful.”

  Kali felt a stab of deep loss. She would never create anything of value. Not until she found that song again. She closed her eyes and let herself slip away from the roar of her creation, sinking into the comfort of Ganshi’s love and the grief of her loss.