Crystal Dreams

by Astrid Cooper

  Connal laughed. “Now that would make an interesting spectacle. Counselor Tavor the acrobat!"

  “You've drunk too much mead."

  “I have hardly touched my goblet all night.” He grinned. “I do insist you entertain me with some of your alien magic. If you please."

  “If I please?” She smiled at that. “I might corrupt you."

  “I am prepared to risk it."

  Once the people realized that Connal had requested Liandra to perform something from her own world, they clapped and cheered and called on her to enter the entertainer's circle.

  “Very well. I will need the use of one of my crystals."

  Connal raised a brow. “Which?"

  “The pyramid-shaped one."

  Connal left the hall and quickly returned. Liandra was already seated on the floor, cross-legged. He placed the huge crystal into her cupped hands.

  Liandra bent her head and concentrated onto the crystal surface. Slowly it glowed with its inner fire. The lights played across her face and arced around the room in a spinning kaleidoscope of color. Then the coruscating energy coalesced into a single shaft of light a few feet from where she sat. Slowly, it took on the shape and form of two dancers, a man and woman, wearing the flowing robes of Asarians, their faces painted in the traditional way of a bonded couple. Laughing, they circled one another, their fingertips just touching, their gowns joining sinuously in the bonding dance. Embracing in a shaft of pulsing light, they rose into the air, their robes and long silver hair flowing around their bodies. The faintest music emanated from the crystal Liandra held.

  Some minutes later, she finished the projection; certain everyone in the hall would know what followed in real life. As tradition decreed, the couple would eventually consummate their love, privately and passionately as only fully bonded Asarians could do.

  The audience was deathly quiet as Liandra stood up. Uncertainly, she glanced around. Had she offended them? Then they burst forth in laughter, clapping and cheering. As they called for more, she shook her head.

  “Later, perhaps. It's quite draining.” She sank down in her seat and gratefully sipped the goblet of wine Connal handed her.

  “That was very enlightening,” he said huskily.

  “You enjoyed it?"

  “Most assuredly."

  She regarded him in a mixture of suspicion and surprise. Beads of perspiration dotted his brow. His eyes smoldered with that inner fire she now knew so well. There were other such reactions in the hall, she noticed, for some couples slipped surreptitiously away, no doubt to consummate their own love privately in Caledonian fashion.

  “The hall numbers have thinned somewhat since that entertainment of yours, Liandra,” Connal said.

  “I didn't know the bonding dance would have that effect."

  “The what?"

  “Bonding dance. An Asarian couple wears the traditional robes and performs the dance to show their love for the other, before they join mentally and physically."

  “The man had his face painted like the woman."

  “In his own aura colors, as his partner wore hers."

  “And he was dressed in that same robe in which you imaged me, when we dream-searched. Why?"

  Liandra shrugged. “I had no reason. It just came to mind."

  Connal's eyes were steely and his jaw clenched. Then he laughed. “Aye, well I suppose that is how you see things. The joining of a man and woman can indeed be potent magic."

  It was Liandra's turn to regard him sharply. In response he smiled enigmatically.

  “What's happening now?” she asked, noticing that on the floor, men and women were lined up facing each other and from the alcove above the hall, flutists and pipers began a stirring tune.

  “We will be dancing the night away, I think. Care to join me?"

  “I—I don't know how to dance."

  “I can teach you. Come."

  Taking her elbow, he escorted her to the line of dancers. Although Liandra tried to follow the intricate and fast moving dances, sometimes she, and others, became hopelessly entangled. Everyone laughed as they tried to weave a path through the sea of bodies.

  Then, a slowing of tempo allowed Liandra to follow the sedate moves, the clasping of hands and fingers, as men and women circled their partners. Most couples took the opportunity to caress, a meeting of hips or more. Connal did try to tease her in such a way, and Liandra found it difficult to elude him. Though occasionally they could not help but touch bodies in the pressing throng of people about them.

  Connal took her into his arms and swung her about as the music changed pace yet again. She clung to him to keep her balance, and he lifted her off the ground.

  “Not like your Asarian dancing?"

  “More primitive."

  “More enjoyable?” he asked.

  “I prefer the other."

  “Do you? That is not what your eyes and laughter tell me."

  Liandra frowned. It was true. She did enjoy this way of dancing, uninhibited and sexual in a more conspicuous way than any Asarian dance.

  Still carrying her, Connal maneuvered her into the circle of dancers.

  “Aren't you going to release me?"

  “No.” He laughed.

  Liandra squirmed against his inescapable embrace. Connal drew her closer and she put her arms around his neck. He glanced up and Liandra did the same.

  “You are now under the kissing bush. As your chieftain I claim a kiss from you."

  About them the people laughed.

  “Wha..."

  Connal's lips silenced her and she was too stunned to move, or protest. She felt his arms tighten around her, and one hand snagged in her hair, holding her head. His tongue touched her lips and she gasped, too late realizing her mistake. Seizing the opportunity, his tongue plunged into her mouth, entwining sinuously with hers.

  She knew she ought to protest, but could not, for her every cell hummed a resonant warmth. Faster and faster the blood raced through her veins, and soon it was she who clung to him in order to drink more deeply from him. On and on. She felt the taut expectancy of his body against her. In response to his arousal, her own body pulsed. Slowly, she began to reach out to meld body and soul with him.

  Laughing, Connal tore his mouth away, and set down on her feet. People around them clapped and cheered and laughed. He drew her away, so that other couples could take it in turns to stand beneath the kissing bush.

  Liandra breathed in deeply, trying to still the quaking of her body. Connal, too, she noticed had reacted to their kiss. His face was flushed and the tension in his body radiated outwards, merging with her own. She stepped back, so she could gather her wits. To understand, to decide what, if anything, she should do about this reaction to him. This was more than his alien chemistry arousing her ... It was...

  She half turned away and across the hall she sensed it. When she tried to focus, it was gone and in its place she saw Jenna's furious, horror-filled face.

  Liandra gasped and staggered against Connal.

  “What is it, darling?” His fingers on her shoulder traced a fiery path to her neck. He cupped her chin and made her look at him.

  She glanced back. Jenna had gone, but in her place she caught an outline. A green-black shadow. Liandra gasped. And in that instant, she knew. It was the alien presence from her dream. Only now it was not a dream. Somehow it had found a path into Caledonia.

  “What is wrong, Liandra? You look as if you have seen a ghost."

  “Connal, they're here!"

  He frowned about the room and tugged her playfully closer. “Who be here?"

  “I saw an alien."

  He sucked in his breath. His fingers bit into her shoulders. “What did you say?"

  “Just after the kissing bush. I sensed something. Someone. When I focused, I saw an outline. Just a lingering presence."

  Connal smiled and cupped her chin. “Maybe your senses are awry from my kiss.” His fingers traced over her bare shoulder.

  “S
top that, please!” Liandra batted at his hands. “Connal be serious! I'm telling you what I saw. I didn't imagine it. Are you so drunk that you can't understand?"

  Connal's smile faded rapidly. “I am not drunk!” Taking her shoulder, fiercely, he spun her about, and clearing a path through the throng of revelers, he led her out of the room to the corridor. “Tell me, again, exactly what you saw."

  Liandra painstakingly recounted her experience; her feelings. “How it could reach here, that I don't understand."

  “Nor do I. I made certain, unless..."

  As he turned away, Liandra gripped his forearms. “What aren't you telling me?"

  “ I cannot tell you. No questions! I must look to this menace. If any aliens be here, then we must prepare our defense."

  “You need help, Connal."

  “Help?"

  “League help, or at least Asarian."

  “No!"

  “Con, you don't understand!"

  “I understand only too well."

  “If these creatures have penetrated real-space, then every world is threatened! You must let me reach my father."

  “Caledonia will defeat this enemy, Liandra. The League will not be involved."

  “Listen..."

  “No! And I know I have the right of it when I say that the moment my back is turned you will be seeking out your bed, defying me."

  “Connal, please!"

  “Liandra I understand your loyalty to the League. I can even admire it, truly! But we want no more of your kind on this world. Come.”

  He took her arm in a grip that would have been painful if she struggled. She glanced at him; saw his determination in the clench of his jaw, the glint of his eyes.

  He opened the door of her chamber and ushered her inside. “I will not ask for your word in staying to your apartment. You will only break it.” Connal strode to the balcony door and after locking it he put the key in his sporran.

  “You intend to imprison me?"

  “That I must. Have no fear. These creatures will not remain so for long. Trust me."

  He strode to the door and Liandra raced after him. Too late, it shut in her face and the final indignity; she heard the key scrape in the lock. Locked in like an errant child!

  Liandra paced the confines of her room, venting her frustration on everything in sight. She tried to pick the locks, without success. She even tried a probing to see if somehow she could warp the metal and thereby escape. Not that she had any chance of success without her crystals, but she felt as if she had to do something. Nothing she tried worked. She sat down on the edge of her chair, thinking furiously, discounting every plan that came to mind.

  Hours passed and when the wan light of dawn filtered into her apartment Liandra heard the door opening. Jenna crept forward.

  Although she wanted to retreat from her enemy, Liandra stood her ground. Jenna regarded her, then stepped backwards, her gaze averted.

  “You and I have had our differences. The cause of such, well you know. I am here to help you,” Jenna whispered.

  “I remember the last time you helped me, Maera Jenna. I won't be deceived again."

  She dismissed Liandra's words with a wave of her hand. “I heard we are in danger from an enemy not of Caledonia. You have ways and means to help. My Connal is a stalwart man, but even so, he may not be able to defeat this enemy. He will not entertain the idea of help from your kind. I think we need it. I have a way for you to reach your people."

  “My bed is..."

  “No. Something better. I can help you leave Caledonia."

  “How?"

  “Come.”

  As Jenna tugged at Liandra's arm, she wrenched it free. “I know better than to trust you!"

  Jenna smiled bitterly. “Before you came here My Lord had eyes only for me. Since your arrival he has watched you as he once did me. With you gone, he will, again, look upon me with favor. I am a woman fighting for her man. That is why I help you."

  Liandra frowned. She could understand. If things had been different, maybe she would fight to retain the love of such a man as Connal MacArran. Seven Stars!

  “What about Connal? If he finds out you've helped me..."

  Jenna smiled. “I can weather his temper and punishments. Come."

  Liandra chewed her lower lip. She had to take the risk of believing Jenna for the chance of reaching home, for the chance to help Caledonia. She followed Jenna down the corridor.

  Using the network of narrow backstairs, they descended to the lowest levels of the Castle. Liandra felt as if the air was alive. It prickled at her, making her skin itch.

  Jenna led her down another stairwell. The passage of many feet over untold years had polished the stones, rounding the edges of each step. Finally they emerged into a darkened chamber.

  “The dungeon is the oldest part of the Castle. The foundations were laid by Arran himself.” Jenna's voice echoed in the gloomy cavern. She took up a light-stick, and held it out, the blue light almost suffocated by the dank oppressive chamber.

  Liandra cast about. Age was certainly there. And other things. Strange sensations and energy vibrations.

  Jenna pushed against an iron-studded wooden door. Slowly, it creaked open. Liandra, following closely behind, frowning as the light revealed the chamber. At its center she saw a metallic device, a meter tall, shaped like a pyramid. About the corners of the room were similar structures, only smaller. All were black and no light or contour marked their smooth surface. She sensed something, a familiar resonance.

  Then she remembered. The machine-thing that she had encountered in the dream-search. “I know this. What is it?"

  “This be the source of all our trouble. The trans-mat. It brought you to Caledonia."

  “It what?"

  “When Connal went off world seeking Garris, he took this machine with him."

  “He reached League space with this thing?"

  Jenna shook her head. “He used the MacArran star-ship."

  Liandra stared at the woman, open-mouthed. “You have no such!"

  “Aye, that we do, witch. He journeyed to your space in our ship and from there he used the trans-mat to reach your apartment, kidnap you, without any being the wiser. Connal said it was so easy."

  “Are you telling me this machine can transfer people from place to place?"

  “Aye."

  “How?"

  “I care not. The person wishing to be transferred stands against that device in the center and after a few moments the light appears and dissolves the person. They are no longer there. This machine shifts them to a pre-determined destination."

  Liandra shivered. “I don't like the sound of having my molecular system destroyed and then reconstructed elsewhere."

  “Nor I. But ’tis the only way you can reach the star-ship above Caledonia. Then you can get home."

  “Won't there be any on board the ship to stop me? And how will I reach the League? I don't know where I am."

  “'Tis the easy part. The ship is deserted. Every warrior is hunting the alien you claim to have seen. As for finding your way, there is a guidance system. You have but to tell it where you wish to go and it will take you there."

  “I'm not certain about this trans-mat. Is there is no other way?"

  Jenna shook her head. “Do you not understand? This chance will not present itself again. Connal plans to destroy the trans-mat."

  “Why?"

  “Get you gone! There is no time to waste.” Jenna pushed Liandra towards the machine.

  “No. If there's trouble, I'm not going to desert my friends! I only need send a message to my father. I can quickly reach him through my bed."

  “Connal has that under lock and key."

  “We can find it."

  “No!” Jenna screamed. “You have to go!"

  “I..."

  “Do as I say, bitch!” Jenna shoved her back forcefully, her nails catching in Liandra's gown, ripping the fabric.

  Liandra fell against the machine, and strug
gled to maintain her balance. Before she could right herself, she felt the trans-mat erupt into life, holding her immobile in a stasis field. From each small pyramid structure a network of lights extended and melded before more rays erupted from the main console. Her whole body was bathed in a glowing red light that tingled against her skin.

  “Stop, Jenna!"

  The light intensified, then everything went black.

  Was it moments or hours later that her consciousness returned? Liandra found herself in a place that was cold and dark and bone-chillingly silent.

  Where am I? Shivering, she wrapped the remnants of the velvet gown around herself.

  At last! The one we must have. It is here!

  Liandra screamed as the alien minds pounced on her, violating her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  How long their assault lasted, Liandra did not know. When their minds finally withdrew from hers, she curled herself into a tight ball, sobbing with pain and fear.

  She was trapped in a dimension bereft of everything. Without light, sound, color, smell, touch, she floated in dark nothingness. They had even taken her gown and crystal necklace, for they were her only sources of comfort, a focal point on which to anchor her sanity. She would not long survive their imprisonment. They knew their business of torture only too well.

  What had Connal called her? Ban-laoch. She was no amazon-warrior. She was incapable of fighting her captors, at least for any length of time.

  And Jenna? Had she deliberately sent her to the aliens, or was it just a mistake? Did they control the trans-mat's destination? Had the machine somehow infiltrated between the dimensions and caused the rift, such as she had sensed in the dream-search?

  Finally, she closed her mind to her many questions. They'd get her nowhere and they were consuming her strength. She must reach help before she was too weak. Liandra forced herself into the dream-trance and focused outwards. On and on she pushed, fighting against the confines of her prison.

  How long she strove to break through the barriers she did not know, only that when she grew aware of herself, her body shuddered with fatigue. She had touched nothing out there. Just a void so dark and silent it was terrifying. Liandra rested her head in her hands. She'd try again later. She wouldn't give up.