By Ann Maxwell
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N-no. Zomal ... ” Her eyes deepened but the fear was subsiding. ” “Nobody wins sexual contests. Nobody. Not only do you lose body pleasure; you also lose mind pleasure. ” “I can believe that without mindtouch,” said Syza, her voice haunted, bitter. Then he felt the gentle pressure of her fingers curling around his hands in response to his touch. “You’re a strange man, Lhar. ” “Not quite the same. ” “Not this time,” he said softly. ” “I don’t know. ” she said coolly. ” “No you’re not, Syza. And I’m not Zomal.
He sighed with exaggerated pleasure, yet his eyes lingered over Kaffi’s and told her that her compliment was not unwelcome. Kaffi laughed softly and her lips showed even redder than the sweetberry juice. Then Kaffi’s man touched her sleeve lightly and his deep blue eyes stared past the standing animals where Tokor had gone. Lhar tightened inside; what had Birol seen that was important enough to interrupt the conversation of two mirans? Lhar’s eyes made a rapid search but could see only Syza and the drifsen working the herd animals.
A mixture of protest and exasperation spilled over to him followed by a crisp apology. *My error, Lhar. * “And I’m a demon for double meanings. ” When Lhar’s bland assumption that Syza was monitoring four minds simultaneously and also relaying to Nevin passed without comment, Lhar allowed himself a tiny glow of, triumph. She had a rare mind when it was not strangled by the past or his own bungling. *There was a slippery moment when they saw her bowing to you. * *Tell Nevin to watch himself. * When it occurred to him to wonder why Syza was being so helpful he brushed the thought aside for another, quieter time.
A Dead God Dancing by Ann Maxwell