Though she did not meet his eyes, he could feel her conflicting emotions. She was hoping they would do more than just
“I’m glad you did,” he told her. “Dardel...”
She looked up. He raised an eyebrow. Her lips curled into a smile. “I hope you don’t mind the late hour. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Not at all. These hot nights do make sleeping difficult. Would you like to come in and... talk?”
She slipped past him into the room. Shutting the door, he turned to find her shrugging out of her vest. “This heat just makes me want to take off all my clothes.”
He laughed quietly. “I thought I was the only one.”
Coming over to him, she took hold of his vest. “Let me help you.”
Dreamweaver robes discarded, they moved to the bed. She smelled of sweat and jungle flowers; the moonlight caught the curve of a shoulder. Breast. Hip. Warm skin under his palms. Hands moving over his body. They drew ever nearer, teasing with fingers, exploring with lips, until they couldn’t get any closer. He felt her heels press into his back and then they were rocking back and forth, the only sounds their breathing and the soft creak of the bed, taking him ever closer to that moment when pleasure overtook thought.
When thought returned she pulled away from him. He reached out to touch her, but she caught his hand. Surprised, he looked at her closely and sensed a thoughtfulness.
“Something is different,” she said. She looked at him. “I thought it would be more exciting now I know who you are. But it isn’t. It’s...” She frowned and shook her head. “I don’t know.”
He leaned back against the wall.
“Sometimes a fantasy is more exciting than reality,” he said.
She nodded, then frowned and shook her head again. “It’s not that.” She looked at him and smiled. “Well, it is a bit. But there’s something about you that’s always bothered me. You remind me of... have you...?” She stopped and looked thoughtful. “I get the feeling there’s something distracting you, even when you’re most, um, attentive.” She paused. “I’d normally guess it was a woman. I hope that’s not too presumptuous.”
She was perceptive, he mused. He also recognized her mood. A bit of conversational intimacy sometimes rounded off bedroom encounters nicely, though women liked it more than men. He had learned to appreciate this long ago. They could be frivolous, funny, outrageous or show depths of intelligence and insight. Sometimes they simply needed to talk about their problems. At times a little too much. That took a little patience.
Dardel was no complainer. He could have shrugged off her guess, but there was no reason to, so long as he kept Auraya’s identity secret.
“There is a woman,” he told her.
She looked up at him. “Then why aren’t you with her? Is she in the north?” Her eyes widened. “Are the Circlian gods keeping you apart?”
He smiled. “No. Unfortunately she doesn’t regard me in the same way I regard her.”
“Oh.” Dardel’s shoulders dropped and she smiled at him sympathetically. “Then she’s a fool.”
He chuckled. “The number of times I’ve said that to women in the opposite situation. Now I’m reassured that it helps - a little.”
But Dardel didn’t appear to be listening. Suddenly she looked up and punched him lightly in the shoulder.
“And you just bedded me! How can you do that when you love another!”
He caught her wrist. “Do you really expect me to be celibate for a woman who has no interest in me?”
She smiled. “No. I suppose not.”
“I can think of a few ways you could show your support for my decision not to remain celibate.”
Her eyebrows rose. “I’m sure you can.” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “It’s nice to know you’re human enough to be a fool for love.”
“Is it?” He grimaced. “Glad it’s nice for someone.”
“Aw.” She grinned and patted his cheek. “Then I guess I’ll have to make sure it’s extra-nice for you.” Leaning forward, she began to trace her fingers across his chest. He smiled, caught her hand, and pulled her closer.
The Sanctuary, in contrast to the Temple, was a jumble of interconnected buildings on several levels. Auraya felt as if she was descending into a maze, yet every time she began to feel trapped and disorientated Nekaun would lead her into a corridor open to the air on one side, or out into a courtyard. She realized that this form of architecture allowed breezes to flow through the building, making the dry heat bearable.
Most of her thoughts circled around the situation she was now in. The Siyee were hostages. They were fortunate to be, as they had come here to attack Pentadrian property - or forces, depending on how the Pentadrians regarded their birds - and could have been killed in retaliation.
Instead they were being used to blackmail her. The price appeared to be small. She must simply stay here a while. Meet Nekaun’s people. That was all.
So far Nekaun had led her about the Sanctuary, stopping here and there to point out decorations or explain the use or significance of features. He was playing the gracious host. She felt that while her body was keeping up, her mind was lagging far behind, not yet fully grasping everything that had happened in the last few days, and the full consequences of what she had agreed to.
Nekaun said something in a grand tone.
“And here,” Turaan translated, “are your rooms.”
A servant opened a large pair of double doors. Auraya drew her attention back to her surroundings and followed Nekaun inside. The first room was the size of a house and sparsely furnished. Nekaun gestured at a doorway. Stepping through, Auraya found herself in a broad room filled with an enormous bed. An archway to one side led to a room covered entirely with tiles, a sunken, empty pool in the center.
“Domestics will bring you water when you wish to bathe,” Nekaun told her through Turaan. He pointed to glass and pottery bottles. “A selection of perfumes and oils.”
“I want to speak to the Siyee,” she found herself saying. “It is needlessly cruel for them to be ignorant of our agreement.”
Nekaun regarded her thoughtfully.
“I will take you to them,” Turaan translated. “But only if you swear by your gods that you will not attempt to free them. I would have to stop you, and they might be hurt in the process. I do not wish to harm them.”
“I understand,” she replied. “I swear on the Circle that I will not attempt to rescue the Siyee you hold captive while our bargain holds.”
He nodded. “Follow me.”
To her relief he did not stroll along pointing out features of the Sanctuary as he had before. Nor did he set a swift pace, however.
“The Siyee regard you as their own personal White,” he said. “They believe you consider them your own people. Is that true?”
“It is and it isn’t. I am not Siyee. I will never be Siyee.”
“But you have much in common with them. Flying, for instance.”
“Yes.”
“Do you regard Si as your home, or Hania?”
She frowned. “Si is my home for now, but I will always have a link with Hania.”
He smiled. “Of course. Did you leave the White in order to live among the Siyee?”
“I am not going to tell you my reasons for leaving the White.”
He chuckled. “I thought not. But I had to ask. It has been the source of much speculation here.”
They had descended into an underground corridor. The walls were bare and the floor dusty, suggesting this
