The Second God

by Pauline M. Ross

  For answer, he shifted nearer and stretched forward to kiss me, a long, warm kiss that awakened all sorts of thoughts. A quick shuffle of blankets brought us side by side, and even through our clothes I could feel how aroused he was. He pulled me closer and kissed me again. When we parted, breathless, I murmured, “Do you really want to do this with Ly so close?”

  “Yes!” He rolled on top of me. “He is the one who says we should share a bed, that there should be nothing secret. That is how his people do it. Tomorrow we will be Clanfolk, so we shall do as Clanfolk do.”

  He slid a hand inside my tunic to cup my breast, and kissed me with an urgency I couldn’t resist. I unfastened my trousers and let him do whatever he wanted, which he did with great enthusiasm. But when he was sated and drowsy, I wondered what Ly was feeling, hearing everything from the far side of the fire, and what it would be like if he were right there beside us.

  ~~~~~

  I was awake very early the next morning, too unsettled to sleep much. For a while, I tormented myself by gazing at Arran’s sleeping form, memorising every curve of his face, every eyelash, every hair, in case… But there was little point in following that train of thought. We would do what we had agreed to do, and it would succeed or it would fail, but that was out of our hands. And then we would live with the consequences, whatever they were.

  After a while, I heard Ly moving around, building up the fire, fetching water from the lake. Then the chink of the pot being set down in the fire to heat. When I guessed the brew would be ready, I slid out of the blankets without waking Arran.

  Ly was huddled over a flat stone mixing dough for bread, one knee bent under him, the other upright. As he kneaded, concentrating, his soft curls fell forwards to cover his face. So familiar, and yet he was so alien too. Sometimes I felt I hardly knew him at all.

  He heard me coming and looked up at me unsmiling, his eyes slithering away from mine. “Would you like your herbs now, Princess? The water should be hot enough.”

  My herbs, yes. I needed them this morning. A pregnancy would be a very bad idea, especially if it could be either Ly or Arran who sired it. Ly’s children inherited all sorts of bonding powers at birth, with terrible consequences, and we’d long since agreed that all my children would be Arran’s. I wondered idly how Clanfolk managed with their casual bed-sharing arrangements, but perhaps the exact identity of a child’s father was of no interest to them.

  “So, what next?” I said, sipping my herbal brew.

  He flipped the dough over, and began pounding the other side. “Next? We will have our morning meal, something substantial, since we will not eat again until… afterwards. Then we bathe in the lake, and put on clean clothes. At noon, the blood sharing. Then the feast.”

  “Will anything happen… immediately? To Arran, I mean. I assume the effect will be more abrupt in him.”

  Ly’s hands stilled, suspended in mid-air. He threw me a glance, then quickly looked away. “Impossible to say. Everyone reacts differently.” He began to flatten and shape the dough, head down.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Of course,” he said, too quickly. I didn’t think he was. He wouldn’t meet my eye, for one thing, and he seemed jittery, more like the old Ly. Was he bothered about what Arran and I got up to the night before? Well, Arran was right about that, it was Ly’s own custom, so he was going to have to get used to it.

  When Arran finally woke and drifted to the fire, we ate our morning meal, and it was indeed more substantial than usual. I was a little tired of cold meat from whatever Ly had caught the previous afternoon, but the fresh bread was wonderful and we ate the last of the cheese with some tiny red berries, sharp but juicy.

  Then we all bathed in the lake. At Ly’s suggestion, we split up so that we could contemplate our future or some such without distractions. For myself, I was done with contemplating the future. It would bring what it would bring, and that was that. Ly walked round the rocky northern shore while Arran took the tree-shaded southern side. I stayed on our little beach near the camp.

  The water was warm and soothing. Once I was fully immersed, I realised that it had its own magic, stronger than the hint I’d felt in the air. I ducked my head beneath the surface. Yes! It was even stronger that way, and to my astonishment, there seemed to be a source, a focal point from which all the magic emanated. It was hard to detect, because Ly’s power loomed over everything, but I was sure of it.

  I stood up, waded a little deeper, ducked under again. Stronger, just a little. But it was far out in the water, and I was going to have to swim. I’d grown up beside a river, but it was a long time since I’d swum out of my depth. Cautiously, I tried a few strokes, and it all came back to me. With greater confidence, I swam towards the centre of the lake, then dived down and opened my eyes.

  It was hard to say what I’d expected to find, but this wasn’t it. I couldn’t even see the bottom, it had dropped away so fast. There below me was darkness unfathomably deep, stretching away into the distance, perhaps into the very roots of the land. And away at the bottom, far below me, a tiny glowing sphere filled with – surely not! Buildings? A whole city at the bottom of this watery cleft, and perhaps there were even people down there, or other creatures beyond my imagination.

  That was too strange for me. I’d travelled a bit, and I’d visited countless other lands in my imagination, through the window of books, learning of the incredible array of life on our continent, and all the things people had done over the vast spread of history. But a city under water? My mind couldn’t cope with that. So I surfaced and swam slowly back to my beach, where I washed myself as best I could with the nub of soap, all that was left after my amateurish attempts at laundering. Then I climbed out onto a rock and wrapped myself in a blanket. I don’t really know why I felt any modesty, for both men had seen everything before, but somehow it seemed odd to be naked in the open air.

  Arran had no such inhibitions, for he strolled back along the water’s edge as naked as the moment he’d arrived in the world, although somewhat better proportioned. He sat beside me, quite unembarrassed, his feet trailing in the water.

  “Enjoy your swim, sweetheart?”

  “I did, yes.” Perhaps I should have told him about the city under the lake, in the spirit of not having any secrets, but I was still too flummoxed. And at the back of my mind was the thought that we shouldn’t waste these last few hours as ourselves by talking about something so bizarre. So I said nothing, snuggling beside him, while he wrapped a strong arm around me and held me tight.

  Ly, it seemed, was shyer than Arran, for he stayed on the far side of the lake to dry off, and returned fully dressed.

  “Are you both still willing to go ahead?” he said, his eyes large in his thin face.

  I nodded.

  “Yes,” Arran said.

  A slight smile crossed Ly’s face. “Excellent. It is almost time. Let us do this!”

  16: The Feast

  There was no special place for the ceremony. We just stood in a little circle near the lake, with the eagles gliding overhead. There was no mysticism, no ritual, no special clothes or words. Just the three of us and a fearsome looking knife, Ly’s hunting knife, which he’d purified in the fire and then in the lake.

  “We must cut across the hand – so. That way, you will not damage any important muscles. We all cut the same hand, then we clasp hands and kiss for a count of ten, first me and Drina, then Drina and Arran, and finally Arran and me.”

  “Kiss?” Arran said.

  “Yes. For a count of ten. Arran, you may choose which hand it will be – left or right.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you use both sword and bow. Whichever hand is cut will be unusable for several sun-crossings at least, and there is a risk of permanent damage. Drina uses no weapon, and I seldom need my bow. So you should be the one to choose.”

  “Then make it the left hand. I would hate to lose the use of my sword hand.”

  “It shall be so.
Are you ready? Then let us start.”

  He drew the knife sharply across his hand, with a little “Oh!” of pain. Blood gushed like a spring, and trickled over his outstretched palm. He exhaled sharply, then, with a slight grimace, passed the knife to me. “Be quick, but remember where I showed you to cut.”

  He was breathing hard, and for the first time, I realised that this was going to hurt. A lot. I took a deep breath, and then another. But the pain in Ly’s eyes drove me on. I inhaled, exhaled slowly, then slashed my hand.

  Agony speared through me, fast and intense. I gave a little squeal, almost dropping the knife. Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to stop the tears that welled up there.

  Ly’s voice cut through the haze of pain. “Pass the knife to Arran. Good. Now place your hand on mine, like this. And use your other hand to press it, hard. Very good. Now we kiss.”

  It was the last thing I felt like doing. The pressure on my hand drove every thought from my head except to stop the searing pain. I would have done anything to ease it, but getting this ceremony over as fast as possible seemed to be the best way to achieve that. So I leaned closer to Ly, and, hands firmly clamped together, we kissed. And oddly enough, it helped, if only as a distraction.

  I forgot to count to ten, but Ly pulled away with a shaky laugh. “There! Now Arran’s turn.”

  Arran was braver than I, for without hesitation he drew the knife straight across his hand, with only a sharply drawn breath as he felt it slice into his flesh.

  “Give me the knife,” Ly said. “Now you two clasp hands the same way, and kiss.”

  Somehow it was easier this time, perhaps because it was my beloved Arran, and kissing him was as natural as breathing. We got so into the spirit of it that Ly had to tell us to break apart.

  “Drina, take the knife. And now you and me,” Ly said to Arran.

  “We have to kiss?” Arran said.

  “Yes.”

  Again, there was no hesitation. Arran nodded, positioned his hands and leaned into the kiss. He didn’t try to cut it short, either, and again it was Ly who pulled away, laughing.

  “There! All done,” he said, a smile lighting up his face. “Rinse your hands in the lake, and I will salve and bandage them.”

  “That’s it?” Arran said, with a sigh of relief. “That was… not so bad as I’d feared.”

  “Even kissing Ly?” I said.

  He chuckled. “Even that. He is rather a good kisser.”

  “He certainly is,” I said, smiling at both of them.

  Ly beamed with delight.

  ~~~~~

  Arran and I sat in the cave, our backs to the cool wall, savouring the shade. He was half-dozing in the afternoon warmth, his bound hand resting on one knee, palm up. Outside, Ly was humming as he prepared our feast. Drifts of smoke and pungent aromas tickled my senses, making my mouth water. My hand throbbed, but the salve had soothed away the worst of the pain.

  Now that it was over, I wasn’t sure what I felt. Relieved, yes. Nothing terrible had happened to Arran, and we both seemed to be our usual selves, if a little subdued. And yet… maybe it was my imagination, but I felt different. There was a warmth in me that wasn’t entirely due to the weather. I had Ly’s blood in me now, the blood of a byan shar, not just his seed. When we’d first coupled, I’d felt the warmth deep in my belly, but what I was feeling now was less concentrated, more spread out. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine his blood moving round my body, changing me. Fanciful, perhaps, but there was truth in it. And what would I be changed into?

  Before long, the first of Ly’s dishes was ready, and we began the feast. I loved seeing Ly happy like this, scampering back and forth to the fire, presenting us with one treat after another, then sitting cross-legged in front of us while we tried each one and declared it delicious. And they were all delicious. Game birds stuffed with herbs and berries, fish glazed with honey, rodent meat coated with a spicy sauce, mushrooms cooked with wild garlic and crushed nuts – it was all wonderful. If I could have had a glass of wine, and my hand healed, and felt less strange, it would have been perfect.

  As the sun slowly slid down the sky, I began to lose interest in the food. What was the matter with me? My head seemed to be stuffed full of thoughts and strange bursts of emotion and oddly disconnected things. Mushrooms, I kept imagining mushrooms. And rodents. Oak trees. Why was I thinking of oak trees?

  “Princess?” Ly’s voice dragged me back to awareness. I was lying on my side, the sand grainy against my cheek, although I couldn’t remember falling over. “Here, rest your head on this.”

  He gently lifted my head and slid a folded blanket under it. Gratefully I lay down on the soft surface, and drifted away again.

  ~~~~~

  I woke at dusk feeling energised, more alive than I’d been for some time. Pushing myself upright, I found Ly smiling at me, his face so close I could feel his breath on my cheek.

  “Better now?” he said.

  “Yes! Much better. What happened?”

  “My blood is very powerful, and absorbing it strains the body. But you have got past that successfully. You will be fine now.”

  A surge of fear. “Arran…?”

  “Sleeping, still, but he will wake soon.”

  “He’ll be all right, though?”

  Ly nodded. “This is the most difficult stage. Those who cannot accept the power fall into fits and do not recover. That has not happened with Arran, so I am optimistic. Will you watch him while I finish cleaning up? He should not wake alone. It must be very confusing.”

  It seemed a long time before Arran finally began to stir, and even then he was groggy for some time before he recovered fully.

  Ly came bouncing back, with a wide smile. “Ah, excellent! Now we can go to bed.”

  “I’m really not tired,” I said.

  “You may not feel tired, but you should rest, even if you do not wish to sleep any more.”

  “Well, I’m glad I woke up in time for bed,” Arran said, making me laugh.

  I jumped up and pulled Arran to his feet, too. “Come on, then. Our first night in the shelter.”

  At Ly’s suggestion, we undressed down to our undershirts, for it was still warm outside. He’d put a layer of springy heather over the rough wood of the platform, and a blanket over that, which made an acceptable mattress. Another blanket, rolled up, was a pillow wide enough for all three of us. Then the final blanket demurely covering us all.

  I was in the middle, my two men either side of me. Lying on my back, I gazed up at the roof but it was too dark inside to make out the individual poles. Here and there, chinks of light showed through.

  “If it rains, we’ll get wet,” I said, to no one in particular.

  Arran chuckled, but Ly answered solemnly, “I will patch it in the morning.”

  We fell silent. I reached out my mind to Sunshine, but she was already asleep. Then I stretched out my senses to the other eagles – Diamond was still awake, and his mind registered a little burst of happiness when I made contact. Midnight I couldn’t detect, but he was probably asleep too. There were several others – some of the Bennamore eagles had flown home, but we’d acquired a number of wild eagles lately – but their minds were less open to me. Beside me, Ly’s magic was a constant presence in my awareness.

  After a while, Arran shifted position. “So we just go to sleep? We need not… do anything?”

  “You mean sex?” Ly said. “Many blood-bonded would choose to celebrate the occasion in that way, but it is not obligatory.”

  “Oh.”

  Another long silence. My thoughts began to wander back to Bennamore. I hadn’t thought much about home for a while, being occupied with my own fears and concerns, but now that was all over, I wondered how things were going. The golden army at Rinnfarr Gap, for instance, and whether Lathran had managed to infiltrate Greenstone Ford. Then I thought of the children – would Arrynyor have another tooth by now? And when would I ever get back there to find out? Yet somehow, I felt very detached
from Kingswell. I was far away, and it would sail on without me, just as it had done for hundreds of years.

  Arran rolled onto his side. “I think… I should like to celebrate.”

  Ly propped himself up on one elbow. “Do you want some time with Drina? I can disappear for a while, or… or turn my back?”

  “Actually, I was thinking of you,” Arran said. “I should very much like another kiss, if you are willing. And if Drina has no objection.”

  “Oh, feel free,” I said, trying not to laugh.

  “I should like that very much,” Ly said, surprise in his voice.

  I scrambled over Arran so that he was in the middle. Immediately, the two fell on each other, Arran’s blond hair mingled with Ly’s dark curls. It should have felt odd, perhaps, to watch my two men entwined like that, but laughter bubbled up in me. After all Arran’s protestations about sharing a bed, here he was taking advantage of the situation in the most unexpected way. At least, I would never have expected it. He’d never shown the least sign before of that kind of interest in men. But then, he’d been in the very male-dominated Elite, and who knew what went on in their barracks at night?

  They showed no sign of breaking apart. There was a point where they clearly moved on from a simple kiss to something more passionate. Hands began to wander, legs became entwined and one of them uttered a little groan.

  Ly pushed Arran onto his back. It was pretty dark in the shelter by now, but I could just see the gleam in their eyes, and I’m fairly sure they were both grinning. Ly started stroking and touching and kissing, first Arran’s broad chest and then gradually working his way down. I was getting fired up myself by then, so I entertained Arran in my own way, and before I knew it we were all tangled up together.

  Gods, but we had fun that night! I don’t know which of us was most on fire, but we were all well into the spirit of the thing, with nothing held back. Whether it was the magic in our blood, or we were getting our energy more directly from Ly, I couldn’t say, but we went on for hours, and I’ve never been as exhilarated as that without a lot of magic.