Forever (29 page)

Savhoran nodded. “That is reasonable.”

“Very well,” Caeran said. “Then I propose a slight change. Before the cup-bonding, Amanda and Steven will be formally admitted to Clan Ebonwatch.”

So that Mirali would see our support for those stricken with the curse. Subtle, Caeran.

Maybe it would make an impression on her. Even if it didn’t, it was a statement I wanted to make. I was in this for all of the ælven, for their ultimate survival. Conquering koilohemia was the first step.

I felt Lomen’s touch and looked at him. Gently, he took the pear from my hands and cut it in half with his knife, offering half to me. We shared it silently, and for some reason that made me incredibly horny. His eyes, dark green in the candlelight, were filled with a soft warmth.

Madóran looked at Len. “How is your translation of the creed progressing? Have you had time to work on it?”

“A little,” she said. “I have questions about a couple of things.”

She said something in ælven and they started discussing the subtleties of its meaning. Faranin put in his opinion. I stopped listening; I would read Len’s work when it was done.

I finished my wine and sipped my tea. Savhoran and Manda slipped away together; the others were deep in discussion.

Caeran asked Lomen a question, drawing him in. Unable to contribute, I got up and went to the kiva fireplace in the far corner of the room.

The fire had burned down to just coals, glowing orange in the little cave-like space. I sat on the banco, took a small log of piñon from the bin and propped it over the coals, watching new flames sprout to lick at its edges.

So you would be my clan-brother.

I winced at the prickling that came with Pirian’s thought-touch and the memory of horror it brought. Turning, I saw him just a couple of steps away. My skin crawled and my breathing shortened, but I kept myself together.

Why does your khi feel like that?

He grimaced.

The curse. It mars the khi. Did they not tell you that?

Not in so many words.

I suppressed a shudder. The prickling sensation was so much like the female alben’s khi that I had trouble thinking straight.

A wry smile twisted Pirian’s lips, and I sensed an echo of contempt. He must just love the idea of having humans as clan-kin. His opinion of us was perhaps slightly higher than Mirali’s.

That was an improvement over what it had been when I’d first met him, I realized. I remembered the crack he’d made about my being a pet.

Pirian’s eyes narrowed.

That was unkind of me. I apologize.

I gaped at him. Apologize? To me?

Madóran assures me that I owe you my life. I am grateful, however unpleasant you find my company.

Or you ours.

A flash of amusement crossed his face.
Indeed. I confess I am still mystified as to why Greystone is so interested in you humans. I must assume something—the promise of a cure for the curse, perhaps—has clouded their judgment.

We will find a cure.

A shadow flicked through his eyes—doubt? Hope, quickly suppressed?

It’s not just a game, Pirian. Len is devoting her life to this. She’s brilliant, in case you hadn’t noticed. She deserves your respect.

She has it. She, too, kept me alive.

Movement behind him caught my eye—Lomen, coming toward us. I looked back at Pirian.

Yes, we’ll be clan-brothers. You’re better off with Clan Ebonwatch.

Am I?

If you hadn’t joined Ebonwatch, and you’d met those two alben on your own, would you have taken them up on their offer of entertainment?

His nostrils flared and his face went grim. Lomen took a step closer. I glanced at him and gave my head a tiny shake, then looked back at Pirian.

Amanda says you saved her life. Is that true?

It was inadvertent. I do not deserve credit for it.

What happened?

Kanna was holding her. Fool that I was, I sought Kanna out to reason with her. Our—discussion—gave Amanda the opportunity to escape.

I stared at him, absorbing that. Why had he declined to take the credit? I was seeing a side of him I hadn’t glimpsed before.

Where did you find Poppy?

I braced myself for an answer I probably wouldn’t like. Something softened in Pirian’s face.

They had already chosen her when I joined them. I had no idea she was known to you.

Would that have mattered?

Probably not.

At least he was honest.

His head turned slightly and he glanced toward Lomen, then looked back at me.
Your friend awaits you.

Pirian turned away, heading for the door to the north portal. The uncomfortable contact faded and I breathed a sigh of relief.

What was that about?

Lomen’s touch was like cool water on a sunburn. I closed my eyes.

Just getting better acquainted.

I sensed his skepticism, but I was still a little freaked out. Felt like I’d been fencing for half an hour.

Lomen came and sat beside me by the fire. I basked in his khi, grateful for how wonderful it felt. I’d explain—or share—later. Right now I just needed the comfort of his touch.

The ælven remaining at the table got up. Faranin and Bironan followed Pirian outside, and Len and Caeran came over to say good night.

I sat up straighter and looked at Caeran. “I hope you don’t mind my turning down your offer. I really am honored by it.”

“No, I think you have made a wise choice,” he said, smiling. “Ebonwatch will be stronger for your presence.”

“Well, I hope so.”

They went out, leaving me and Lomen alone with Madóran. He joined us by the fire, sitting on the couch that faced the fireplace, and for a moment we sat together in silence. Madóran gazed at me, smiling.

Shall we try your experiment?

My mouth went dry with sudden desire. His khi and Lomen’s both at once; it set me on fire.

What I wanted to try was how comfortable we might be on the couch, but I ignored that thought. Madóran was watching me, waiting.

Lomen, are you willing to try talking with us both?

Sure.

Are you talking with Lomen?

Yes.
I looked from Madóran to Lomen.
Can you both hear me?

Lomen nodded. Madóran looked at him, a slight frown of concentration on his brow.

I hear you, and I sense a connection...does Lomen hear me?

I looked at Lomen.
Anything?

Is Madóran talking to you? I felt something, but did not hear.

I stifled a sigh.
I guess it doesn’t work.

No, there is definitely a connection.
Madóran gazed intently at Lomen.
I believe it is something we could build upon.

Madóran took Lomen’s hand, which sent a zing of jealousy and desire through me. After a moment, he reached for my hand as well. I clasped his, and the desire intensified while the jealousy faded. Lomen took my other hand, closing the circle.

The air was tingling, and I thought I could actually feel khi flowing through our hands. So intense; I just sat there, awash in awareness of both of them.

This merits further practice. I believe you have given us a start, Steven.

He said something, didn’t he? I could feel it.

Yes.

If we two could learn to speak together...

The hope in Madóran’s thoughts was almost painfully intense. It surprised me; he was such a gentle soul. He wanted this so strongly.

Well, of course. To share the intimacy of mindspeech with another ælven; Lomen had said it was rare. If they could accomplish it, they’d have that special gift forever.

They’d have it after I was gone.

I put that thought aside, quite deliberately. No mooning over my mortality; that was useless. I’d treasure what I had, for as long as I had it. If I was lucky, I’d spend the rest of my life with the ælven.

Madóran turned to me, smiling with delight.

Thank you, Steven.

Entirely my pleasure.

His gaze shifted to Lomen.
Speaking of pleasure...

A deep tingle went through me and settled in my groin. Oh, god.

Madóran released our hands, but the connection remained. We all stood. Abandoning the table mess for later, we went out to the
plazuela
and across it to Madóran’s room.

It was a beautiful room, was my fleeting impression. The bed was large and comfortable, and I can’t begin to describe what we did there, because it was so much more than physical. I think that night changed me forever.

I woke the next morning, alone in the bed but not lonely. Twin threads of awareness connected me with Lomen and Madóran. They were not nearby; out in the house somewhere.

I stretched, luxuriating, taking time to observe the room and the furnishings. All of it was lovely; most if not all was Madóran’s work. There was plenty of carved and polished wood, both furniture and artwork. Lush fabrics of deep blue and green covered the windows and the bed. I was still lying there soaking in the atmosphere when the door opened.

Lomen came in, bringing me a mug of tea and a bowl of plain yogurt with sliced pears. Perfect.

Everyone spent that week preparing for Evennight. The ceremony might be simple—they all told me that it was—but the feast was apparently going to be elaborate. Madóran sent a written note to Mirali and her family, formally inviting them to supper followed by the ceremony. She sent back a note of acceptance, for which I quietly cheered.

The kitchen was the center of activity. I wandered in and out, chopping things when told to, generally trying to stay out of the way except when I was hungry. There was always something good to eat when I went looking.

When I wasn’t helping with the food, I studied. Caught up on all the homework I could do outside of the lab. Read ahead in the textbooks, and got started reading the molecular biology book I’d checked out.

I found it fascinating. Whenever I read about what could be done on a molecular level to fight disease, a glow of excitement lit in me.

At Madóran’s request, I spoke with him and with Lomen in mindspeech whenever possible. Part of his plan for building a connection between him and Lomen.

Lomen, Bironan, and Faranin decorated the
plazuela
for the ceremony. I didn’t offer to help, because I suspected I’d just get in their way. They installed colored banners on tall poles at the four sides of the
plazuela
—yellow to the east, red to the south, blue to the west and green to the north—and strung wires of hanging lanterns between them. They moved the patio furniture to the
portal
, and on the afternoon of the feast day they poured dried herbs and flower petals in a big circle around the fountain.

I watched them through the kitchen window, open to let out the heat from all the cooking. I was at the small table chopping vegetables for a dish that was part of the feast. The smell of a turkey roasting in the oven was driving me crazy. Earlier, Madóran had baked bread, and I’d had a hard time keeping my hands off those golden loaves as they cooled.

I finished my chopping and carried the cutting board full of veggies to Madóran, who was at the stove. He frowned as I presented my work to him.

I think we’ll need a few more carrots. Would you mind pulling some from the garden?

Glad to. Four? Eight?

Six. Thank you.

I went down the hall and out through the utility room. Didn’t bother with the hat; I wouldn’t be outside long.

It was mid-afternoon and the soil was warm from the day’s sun; the rich smell of it rose to greet me. A cool breeze reminded me that it was fall. I knelt by the carrot bed and coaxed a half-dozen of them from the ground without breaking any of the tops.

I paused, closed my eyes, and just thought about how grateful I was to be there, in that beautiful place, with those amazing people. I’d never been religious, much to my parents’ dismay, but at that moment I felt blessed.

I inhaled deeply, smelling the garden, the clear mountain air, the sun-warmed plants. Long, slow exhale, then I gathered the carrots and took them inside.

Manda looked up at me and smiled from the counter where she was mixing something. I washed the carrots in the sink, retrieved my cutting board, and sliced them up, saving the tops for compost. Madóran smiled as he slid them off the board into the pot.

Thank you, Steven.

Sure. What else can I help with?

He glanced toward the window.

I suppose it is time to start the salad.

I spent the next half-hour washing lettuce and slicing pears, which I then tossed with lemon juice to keep them from going brown. The pears were from Madóran’s orchard and he had a couple of bushels of them in cold storage. Possibly enough for us to get sick of them, but that hadn’t happened yet. The ones I sliced would go in the salad with fresh goat cheese from one of Madóran’s neighbors, and toasted piñon nuts.

I nibbled on the cores before adding them to the compost bucket. I was trying to resist spoiling my appetite, but it wasn’t easy.

Lomen and the others came in from the
plazuela
, looking for cool drinks. Manda told them to attack the iced tea in the fridge. Lomen poured himself a glass and came over to watch me.

Finished with the circle?

Yes, it is ready.

He looked at Madóran and I could tell he was trying to speak to him. Another part of the plan, less successful so far, but Madóran had said it would take time. Lomen sighed and took a big slug of tea.

Those banners are for the four directions?

Yes, and the guardian spirits of the elements associated with the directions.

Reminds me of the Indians, sort of. They have colors for the directions.

Manda put something in the microwave and started it. Whatever Lomen said in response to my comment was lost. It was really true that the thing disrupted khi. I wondered if it was actually scrambling our brain waves.

I glanced at it, then gave Lomen a shrug of apology. He nodded, waiting until the machine shut off before continuing.

I believe the Navajo use slightly different colors.

I nodded.

White is one of them, I think.

Do the Pueblos also use them?