Crystal Shadows

by Joy Nash

  “A wizard? One who makes the magic stones?”

  He nodded.

  “I never thought I would meet such a man.”

  “You haven’t, yet. I’m only an apprentice until I pass the Trial.”

  “Oh, but you will pass it.”

  “I hope so. It’s not an easy task.” He grinned. “When it’s over, I’ll come back and tell you about it. That is, if you want me to.”

  Danat’s heart sank. “How can you? A worshipper may enter the Inner Sanctuary just once in a year.”

  Ariek snorted. “I won’t come here again. Is there another place I can meet you?”

  She described her attic room. “But how…”

  “Don’t worry about that—I’ll be there. Put a light behind the screen, facing the plaza, when you want me to come.”

  A bell sounded. Danat’s head snapped up. “Put on the mask! Solk is coming.” She slipped his cloak from her shoulders and stretched out on the altar. Ariek picked up the mask and strode to the door.

  A few days later, Danat lit the signal behind the screen, though she dared not hope Ariek would remember his promise. Even if he did, she thought, how would he be able to enter the locked doors and pass the priests? Four nights later, she gave up what small hope she’d allowed herself. Sighing, she reached up to extinguish the lamp.

  A shadow fell across her hand. She turned and found Ariek standing before her, dressed in black, with his cloak thrown across his shoulders. She gaped in amazement. “How have you come to be here? Did you come from the air itself?”

  Ariek threw back his head and laughed. “Nothing that exotic. I simply used one crystal to shadow my movements and another to unlock the doors. It wasn’t too difficult.”

  She smiled. “You were successful at the Wizard’s Trial, then?”

  “Yes. You brought me luck.” He remained with her for several hours, describing the stages of the Trial and how he’d mastered each of them.

  Danat pushed the memory of Ariek’s first visits from her mind and peered once more through the carvings of the Temple pediment. The deserted plaza lay in darkness. He wasn’t coming—he would know of the worshipper she served the night before. He’d begun to stay away on the nights following those meetings—at precisely the time she needed his love most. Soon he would not come at all.

  That was as it should be. Someday Ariek would want a wife and a family, but there would be no future with the Bride of the One God. She was the property of the temple, and was expected to produce Solk’s child. The next Heir of Lotark.

  But Danat wasn’t sure she could bear a life without Ariek. Every day it grew more difficult to suffer the touch of other men. With Ariek gone, she wouldn’t be able to endure at all.

  She doused the lamp and huddled on her pallet. Moonlight dipped low on the sloping ceiling before a restless sleep claimed her.

  A gentle hand touched her shoulder, rousing her. “Danat? Are you awake? I saw the light was out, but I couldn’t stay away.”

  “Oh, Ariek!”

  She threw her arms around his neck. He pressed her into the blankets and covered her mouth with his own. She clung to his warmth, encouraged the hands that swept over her body in hungry possession.

  His fingers stroked between her thighs, finding the nub of pleasure hidden in her folds. At the same time, Danat struggled with the ties on her nightdress. When the garment finally fell open, Ariek nuzzled the material aside and drew her nipple into his mouth.

  He pleasured her with his tongue, laving and suckling until she thought she would go mad with need for him. She arched into him with a cry, pressing his head to her breast as he drew on her with sweet, aching tugs. Each sent a burst of warmth to her womb, made her aware of how empty she was without him.

  Ariek left one breast and kissed his way to the other as he slipped first one finger, then two inside her wet passage. She rocked her hips forward and back. His fingers felt so incredibly good, but she wanted so much more. Needed so much more. She longed for him to be a part of her, to chase away her dark memories.

  His thumb teased her nub, causing a moan to tear from her lips. “Oh, Ariek. How I love you.”

  “As I love you.”

  His hand withdrew. Danat lay trembling, watching as he undid the laces on his breeches, freeing his sex. He stripped the garment from his body and knelt beside her. She clasped his shoulders and drew him down to her, lifting her hips in invitation.

  He groaned as he entered her. For a moment, he held himself still. She reveled in the feel of him inside her, the solid strength of his body, the sound of his quick breathing, the sea-washed scent of his hair. He reminded her of the ocean of her homeland, ever restless, yet ever true.

  “Ah, Danat,” he whispered.

  He began to move inside her, slowly, reverently. Each stroke erased a small bit of the horror of what she had endured in Lotark’s sanctuary. In Ariek’s arms she was no longer a slave. She felt treasured, whole. Happy.

  His slow loving drew her into the night. She clung to him, moving with his rhythm, yielding her body to his love. His shaft hardened inside her, driving her higher into a sparkling bliss. Her peak burst upon her. At the same moment Ariek groaned, gripping her buttocks as his seed spurted deep inside her.

  He held her for a long time afterward, not speaking. Their breathing and heartbeats merged. Fierce, futile hope filled Danat’s heart, indescribably precious because she knew it would vanish with the morning’s first light.

  * * * * *

  “Here, try it.”

  Gina examined the fuzzy red stalk Derrin placed in her hand. It hardly looked edible.

  He picked a second one and stripped off the speckled leaves growing in clusters along its spine. “The stems are good,” he told her, taking a bite, “but the leaves are poison.”

  “Poison?” Gina eyed the plant with even less enthusiasm than before. “How can it be edible and poisonous?”

  He shrugged. “It’s often the case. I know of a vine that bears both red and black berries. Fruits of one color are powerful medicine, but the others cause a quick death.” He nodded toward the stalk. “Go ahead, try it.”

  Gina ventured a nibble. A cool tang burst on her tongue. Not bad. In fact, it was much better than her last meal, which had been one of the six-legged furry blue-green creatures, skinned, gutted and grilled. Harta, Derrin had called them. When he’d returned to camp after their argument the day before, he’d been carrying two of the things. Apparently, he’d killed the fast-moving creatures with the crude-looking spear he’d made, a feat Gina couldn’t quite wrap her mind around.

  He was a dangerous man. She’d do well to keep that in mind.

  By unspoken agreement, they’d settled into an uneasy truce. Derrin was polite, but spoke little, pushing through the forest at a quick pace. Gina trudged after him, thighs burning. Now that she’d accepted the fact she was in another world, she had no desire to be left behind. Her wizard companion was the only link to the web that led to her home.

  Her foot caught a root, causing her to stumble. By some miracle, she managed not to fall.

  Derrin spun around. “Are you all right?”

  “Fine,” she muttered.

  He shook his head and started back up the trail. Gina scowled at his back. The man barely stirred the foliage. He was as natural in the forest as a wild creature. She, on the other hand, might have been a bulldozer.

  He quickened his pace again.

  “Wait up!” she called, not bothering to hide her exasperation. “I’m not used to all this exercise in my world.”

  He slowed his steps. “Is your world very different?”

  “I suppose there are places like this, but I’ve never been to any of them.” She leaned against a tree and caught her breath. “I tend to stay inside.”

  Derrin chuckled, a low, rich sound that caught Gina by surprise. “As I do, in Galena.” His expression turned thoughtful. “You’ve been away from your world for many days. Surely there are those who are worried ab
out you.”

  She looked away. “Not too many.”

  “You have no family?”

  “My father passed away almost two years ago.” The words were still hard to say. “My mother died when I was small.”

  “Are you not joined with a man?”

  “You mean married? No, not any more.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. I wasn’t.” She fiddled with the sleeve of her dress. “I met Michael right after Dad died. He was much older than me, and seemed so much wiser. I needed someone to belong to, I guess, and he was perfect. At least before the wedding, that is.”

  Derrin didn’t answer, and Gina found herself caught by a need to explain. “I couldn’t be myself living with Michael. No matter what I did, he never seemed happy. At first I tried harder to please him, but when that didn’t work, I just gave up. It was either that or lose myself for good.”

  “You left him?”

  “I kicked him out after I found him in bed with another woman.” She laughed, but the memory stung. “I wasn’t good at being married. I’m not anxious to try it again.”

  Derrin shrugged. “You joined with the wrong man, for the wrong reason.”

  His concise assessment gave Gina a peculiar sort of comfort. “What about you?” she asked, suddenly curious. “Do you have a wife and a bunch of little wizards back in the city?”

  He shot her a startled look. “No.”

  “Why not? Aren’t wizards allowed to marry?”

  “Yes, many are joined. As for me…” He shook his head. “A family requires time. My work commands all of my attention.” He frowned. “Are you ready to go?”

  She nodded. They continued along the trail, Gina once again falling behind. She ignored the stabbing pain in her calves and hurried to catch up. Derrin turned to watch her.

  A snake-like creature appeared on the trail in a flash of black and red. With one smooth motion it reared and pivoted its head in Gina’s direction. A hiss escaped from between two rows of needle-sharp teeth.

  Gina froze. The animal’s head, as large as her fist, hung in the air an arm’s length away. Two lethal-looking spikes protruded from a bony ridge above its eyes. The creature had short, stubby forearms embellished by long, curved claws, but no rear legs, as far as she could see. A rough diamond pattern of scales decorated its back, but its belly was smooth and yellow. A thin black tongue flicked in and out of its mouth. Its head bobbed back and forth with a mesmerizing rhythm.

  “Gina.” Derrin’s voice was barely audible. “Don’t move.”

  In a blur of movement, he scooped up a loose rock and flung it at the creature, striking it squarely on the back of the head. The thing dropped to the ground. Before Gina could react, Derrin sprang over it and spun her off the trail. Her knees buckled.

  She clutched at Derrin’s shoulders for balance. He lost his footing and they fell. He landed on top of her, the weight of his body pressing her into the dirt. They lay tangled together, not moving, for several seconds.

  Derrin propped himself on his elbows and looked down at her. “Are you all right?”

  The sensation of his body against hers eclipsed the memory of the serpent’s near-attack. His breath tickled her face. His scent surrounded her, an intoxicating mixture of warm earth and warm male. Long legs moved against her thighs. His torso, alive and solid and reassuring, shielded her body. Instinctively, she grasped his upper arms. Sinew and muscle flexed under her fingertips.

  Then his cock went hard against her stomach.

  She gave a cry and shoved against his shoulders. He slid her an amused glance and pushed himself off her.

  Gina scooted back, heart pounding. “What was that thing?”

  The words had no sooner left her lips than she realized Derrin might wonder exactly which “thing” she was referring to. Heat flooded her cheeks.

  To Derrin’s credit, he ignored the double-entendre, though when she dared a peek at him, his gray eyes were dancing.

  “It was a kana,” he told her. “They’re very rare.”

  “Thank God for that. Is it dead?”

  “No, just stunned. See—it’s gone now.”

  Gina jumped to her feet and eyed the ground. “Was it poisonous?”

  He hesitated, then nodded. “If you had moved, it would have killed you.”

  Gina’s knees weakened. Derrin was beside her in a heartbeat, his hand steady on her arm.

  “I don’t belong here,” she whispered. “Take me back to the city with the pyramid. That’s where the web opened. Maybe there’s a…a portal or something.”

  “No. The rift in the web was caused by Balek.”

  “Then let’s go get his crystal and open it ourselves.”

  Derrin was silent for a time, as if weighing her words. Finally, he sighed. “I can’t do that. At least not yet. I promised Zahta I would guide you to the Signs.”

  “I don’t care about the Signs! You claim you want to help me get home, but you don’t seem to be working too hard at it. This forest gives me the creeps. I need to get out of here.”

  “Gina, I know this is difficult for you. You’re not of the Baha’Na. How can I explain? The People don’t fear the wilderness—they’re a part of it. So much so that in Galena the clans exist only in faerie legends.” He touched her arm. “I know you don’t trust me, but at least let me teach you to survive here.”

  “I haven’t much choice, do I?”

  “Oh, there’s always a choice,” he replied, half to himself. “There’s even a choice in not choosing.”

  Gina huffed in annoyance. “That sounds like something your grandmother would say.”

  One corner of Derrin’s mouth twitched. “Indeed. It was she who told me that, a long time ago.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Ma hayta. Welcome. The face of the Goddess shines on your coming.” A slim, wide-eyed girl stopped on the path and swept her arm overhead, palm flat.

  Derrin returned the gesture. “She shines on you also.”

  The girl smiled and glided past. Gina watched her slip into the brush, then turned her attention to the collection of huts from which the girl had emerged.

  The stone dwellings of the Rock Clan crowded the base of a sheer cliff, their lines merging with the mountain, softening its descent. A large common area claimed the center of the village. There, a handful of elderly women sat in a circle, talking among themselves as they transformed a flowing animal skin into clothing. One crone looked up from her task and gave the newcomers a smile of welcome.

  Derrin nodded to the women, bringing his palm to his forehead and dipping his chin in a gesture of respect.

  “Are they always so casual with strangers?” Gina whispered.

  “I’m not exactly a stranger here, and you don’t look so different from a Baha’Na woman.”

  “But it must be years since they last saw you. Why aren’t they surprised?”

  He shrugged. “They knew we were coming.”

  “They knew? How could they—”

  “Derrin.” A woman, no longer young, stood before the doorway of the nearest hut, her arms folded over an ample bosom. Her black braids framed a serious expression that was belied by a subtle sparkle in her eyes. She wore a headdress set with a stone talisman identical to the one Derrin’s grandmother had worn, carved with the same symbol of linked rings and spear.

  “Derrin and Gina. Welcome.” Her arm traced the gesture of greeting.

  Gina gaped at her. “How do you know my name?”

  “I am Celia, Na’lara to my clan,” the woman replied, as if that were answer enough. She turned and entered one of the huts.

  Frowning, Gina turned to Derrin. “How—”

  “She knows your name because Zahta knows it.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “The minds of the Na’lara are linked by the wilderness.”

  “Linked? Linked how?”

  “It’s difficult to explain.” He motioned toward the hut. “Go on. She’
s waiting.”

  Gina’s frown deepened, but she drew the hide door aside and stepped under the stone lintel. Derrin didn’t follow.

  Inside, a ring of tapered columns supported a flat roof, conjuring the image of a forest of stone. The center of the dwelling was open to the sky, allowing a stream of daylight to fall on the coals of a dying fire. Celia stood to one side of the firepit. Beyond her, a young woman sat cross-legged, nursing a small child. Her long braids swung as she rocked. A lullaby floated in the air.

  Celia lowered herself onto a straw mat near the firepit and motioned for Gina to join her. Gina sat down a short distance away, tucking her legs beneath her.

  The Na’lara gave her a searching glance. The light touch of her mind followed.

  Gina drew back sharply.

  Celia’s eyebrows shot up and a small smile formed at the corners of her mouth. “You doubt the power of the Goddess, Gina. And you do not trust me.”

  “Trust has nothing to do with it. I just don’t understand what your Goddess has to do with me getting back to my world.”

  “The truth of the Goddess, once seen, vanishes. Her spirit will guide you home.”

  Gina hid her annoyance. This woman made less sense than Derrin’s grandmother had.

  “Open your heart to her, my child,” Celia said. She rose and left the hut.

  Gina watched her go, frustration rising. She sensed this Na’lara would be no more help to her than Zahta had been, but she knew Derrin wouldn’t leave the village until Gina had seen the Rock Clan’s Sign, whatever that might be. Derrin had refused to tell her.

  Derrin. She hadn’t grown a bit more accustomed to traveling with the wizard in the last two days. He had the power to unsettle her. Every time she looked at him she remembered what it felt like having him inside her mind. Remembered the terrifying helplessness and the stunning ecstasy. Every so often she would turn and find his gray eyes watching her.

  Thankfully, though Derrin was brooding and terse, he seemed to be under tight control. He kept the beast she knew lived inside him firmly leashed.