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.She dabbed at thesweat trickling between her breasts, then crawled cautiously out of the guest house.The wirebush stung her ankles as she stepped carelessly onto the top loop of the laddervine,shocking her into momentary alertness.As she swung down over the cinnamon-scented bark, shemuttered irritably at the stupidity of putting such a plant into a such a place until she remembered that theitch was a small price to pay for freedom from snuggling tree snakes.She clung to the trunk and struggled to clear the wisps of sleep from her head.The forest had beenbenign so far but barely so.Her ignorance of the ways of life here had landed her in danger several times;only luck and a persistent young cludair had saved her skin for her.To walk into the forest with a headfull of clouds was idiotic.When she stepped onto the ground she heard, faintly, the sound of Gwynnor s flute drifting backfrom the direction of the stream.She hesitated, uncertain whether company was unendurable ornecessary.Overhead, the moon thrust a pale grey-green edge into the ragged circle of open sky.Thenight was barely begun, less than two hours into sleeping time.Rubbing her arms she stumbled down thenewly pounded path to the stream, following the sound of the flute.Gwynnor sat, back curved into the curve of the tree trunk, drawing absent-minded, shapelessdoodling from the flute.Oh god, she thought, if that was Vajd and I was back.back home.if that was Vajd.oh god.She stumbled against the tree and surrendered to a pain of loss that time seemed unable to diminish.Sheturned her face against the crumbly, spicy bark, struggling to rip away at the invading memories and forcethem back into the closet where she could ignore them and get on with living. Aleytys? Gwynnor touched her shoulder.There was worry in his voice.And uncertainty. What swrong? She pressed her face harder against the bark. Memories. Her voice was hoarse and muffled againstthe tree.The bark tasted sharp and musky.His hands moved over her shoulders, stroking her hair aside so he could massage the tense musclesof her neck.At the touch of his fingers she shuddered, and shuddered again as her body responseoverwhelmed the ache of memory.She broke away from him and walked blindly, rapidly onto the grassbeside the stream.She dropped heavily onto her knees and stared up at the pitted face of the moon,rubbing unhappily at her aching breasts.Gwynnor lowered himself quietly beside her and watched her out of cat eyes whose slit pupils wereopen wide until they approximated circles.The narrow segments of iris glowed with a faintphosphorescence.Absently, without taking his eyes from her, he groped for the flute and held it loosely inhis fingers.Aleytys sighed, her stiff body loosening.She let herself lean back until she was sitting instead ofkneeling.She hugged her arms over her breasts, fingers wrapping around her upper arms.She dug at thegrass with her toes, crossed over her legs right over left, then left over right.Then right over left.Yawned.Twisted from side to side.There was no comfortable way to sit but moving brought no relief either.Herbody ached with restless energy that gnawed at her, twitched like army ants crawling up her arms, herback, her legs.Watching her struggle, Gwynnor lifted his flute to his lips and coaxed a soothing dreamy melody from it, attempting to calm her nervousness.Aleytys looked at him, then away, chewing on herlip.For the first time, the water magic failed to work and the song of the flute brought no ease to heraching spirit.Too many memories.Too much pain.Too much her body s betrayal.Gwynnor let his music trail off.The starwoman was crouched beside him, sitting with her kneespulled tight against her breasts with her chin resting on her crossed arms.Even the tiny hairs on her armsquivered with the disturbance that flowed beneath her skin.He watched her suffering, helplessly.Hersexual readiness was a club, smashing repeatedly against his senses.He put the flute aside once more ashis body responded to the spicy disturbing odor that steamed from her. It s almost finished here, she said suddenly. Are you sorry? He struggled to keep his voice even and drew his legs up his growing stiffness.The bright hair jerked as she shook her head.He wanted to touch it, to hold the smooth curve of herhair against the matching curve of his hand.She rubbed her hand over her face, looking harried. I like them. I know. He looked away, unhappy at his sudden jealousy of Tipylexne. What about you? Still coming with me to the city? Yes
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Tematy
IndexPutney Mary Jo Jedwabna Trylogia 03 Przepowiednia
Klub tajemnic Gardiner Meg Jo Beckett
Mary Jo Putney Chińska narzeczona
Putney Mary Jo Diaboliczny Baron
Jo Clayton Diadem 06 The Nowhere Hunt (v1.0)
Jo Clayton Diadem 09 Quester's Endgame (v1.1)
Jo Clayton Drinker 03 A Gathering Of Stones
Meyer Kai Siedem pieczęci 07 Demony morskich głębin
Kotowski Krzysztof Japonskie ciecie
ÂŚw.Jan od Krzyża Droga na Górę Karmel