Mouse and Dragon (16 page)

He lifted an eyebrow. "Why?"

"It will dull the signal," she said reasonably, and raised her hand.

* * *

Daav's cheek was soft beneath her fingers, the flutter of his pleasure as apparent to her as the scowl on his face. Aelliana paused, concentrating on these new perceptions the Healers had given her.

Regarded in calmness, Daav's input was nothing at all like the emotions she felt for herself; she could differentiate quite easily. She ran her fingers lightly down the side of his face, across his lips, noting the growing warmth—his and hers, distinct. It was rather like simultaneously listening to chatter off the wideband and instructions from the Tower. At first, it seemed nothing other than a dreadful mixup of sound, but the ear very quickly learned to sort and make sense of each stream.

"Aelliana . . ." His lips moved beneath her fingertips; she felt herself warm agreeably, even as she received a flutter of trepidation from him.

"Hush," she murmured, and reached to stroke those strong eyebrows before placing both hands, gently, on his shoulders.

He was in tumult now: fear, longing, and a tangled skein of emotion she was too inexperienced to name. What a complex creature he was! Complex and utterly fascinating. Her blood was beginning to heat, slow and inescapable, echoing Daav's longing, yet distinct and very different.

It was therefore her own choice that she moved forward, put her knees on the chair at either side of him, and sat astride his lap.

"Kiss me," she said, raising her face to his.

"Aelliana, I don't—"

She snatched his long tail of dark hair and pulled it, hard.

"
Kiss
me!"

He shivered and she felt his fear strongly,
almost
as if it were her own.

Then she felt his resolve, his concurrence, his desire, and his lips, warm and knowing on hers.

* * *

She was pliant against him, her mouth not so cunning as yestereve, but taking her lessons to heart. Daav went carefully, fear at first mixing with desire, slowly dissolving into passion.

Somewhere in the world beyond she and he, there was a sound.

The door had opened.

Daav lifted his head, felt Aelliana sigh and nestle her cheek against his chest.

Er Thom lounged in the doorway, arms crossed, a book tucked under one elbow.

"Pilots," he said neutrally, inclining his bright head. "I am going home, to my lady and to my dinner. Pray, do not disturb yourselves on my account! I'm certain that Mr. pel'Kana can find me a car." He straightened and lifted the book. "Brother, I will return tel'Jorinson's
Treatise on Trade
tomorrow. Pilot Caylon, I took the liberty of having your things brought down from Trealla Fantrol and reinstated in your quarters here. A fair evening to you both."

And with that he was gone, the door shutting quietly behind him.

"Is your brother . . . angry?" Aelliana murmured.

"My brother," Daav told her, with a certain wry humor, "is enjoying himself
far
too much."

"And you think that is both amusing and irritating."

He laughed. "So I do. What else do I think?"

He had meant it for a joke, but, Aelliana-like, she took it as it was asked. Or, perhaps her terrible new sense informed her.

"It is not terrible at all," she said, snatching the thought wholesale out of his head. "Indeed, I quite like it, though I must say,
van'chela
, that you're not half complicated!"

She sat up, displaying a complete disregard for the fact that her shirt was unsealed, and her hair tumbled every-which-way.

"Shall I become more simple?" he asked.

Aelliana smiled. "I would never ask it of you. As to what you think—I can't pretend to know, though I might guess. It seems that my guesses will gradually come closer to the mark, as I learn you better." She put her hand flat over his heart, her palm cool against his flesh.

"I hereby scry," she announced, singsong and unserious, "you are regretful, you are happy, you are desirous, and you are . . ." She paused, brows pulling together into a sudden frown. "Daav, are you—ill?"

Ill? He looked down into her face, seeing playfulness melting beneath concern.

"Not that I am aware," he said. "I will own to being tired, now that the alarms of the last few days are behind us. Perhaps it is that which you scry?"

She tipped her head, considering, and finally sighed, shaking her hair back.

"It may be," she said eventually. "After all, this is new to me." She smiled and leaned toward him. "Perhaps I need more practice."

He bent his head, not loath to assist in so worthy a goal.

There was a knock at the door.

Aelliana drooped against him, muttering.

"It will be Mr. pel'Kana," Daav said, "wanting to know our wishes for Prime, or—" He glanced to the window, noting with surprise that twilight had faded into evening. "Or perhaps he wishes to tell us that a cold meal has been laid for us in the morning room. Either way, we should acknowledge him, and let him seek his bed."

She sighed, but slid off his lap, and walked to the window, her back to the door, and her hands busy at the fastenings of her shirt. He rose and sealed his own shirt, scooped her jacket up and dropped it into the chair.

The discreet knock was repeated.

"Come," Daav called, walking forward to stand by the desk.

Mr. pel'Kana came two scant steps into the room and bowed.

"There is a cold meal laid in the morning room, your lordship," he murmured. "Do you or the pilot require anything else this evening?"

"I believe that I do not," Daav said composedly. "Aelliana?"

"Thank you, I am quite content," she said, her voice perhaps a little unsteady.

Daav inclined his head. "We will serve ourselves, Mr. pel'Kana. Please do not wait any longer on our account."

"Thank you, sir. Pilot. Good evening to you both."

"Good evening," Aelliana called. "Thank you."

"You are quite welcome, Pilot," the old man said, and left them.

He found it in a desert, so he told me—the only living thing in two days' walk. A skinny stick with a couple leaves near the top, that's all it was then.
I don't remember the name of the world it came from. He might not have told me. Wherever it was, when his Troop finally picked him up, Jela wouldn't leave 'til he'd dug up that damned skinny stick of a tree and planted it real careful in an old ration tin. Carried it in his arms onto transport. And nobody dared to laugh.
—
Excerpted from
Cantra yos'Phelium's Log Book
 

This waking was both easier and more difficult. Easier because she had the memory of last evening's pleasures to treasure; more difficult because she knew before ever she opened her eyes that she was alone.

After Mr. pel'Kana's interruption, she and Daav had taken a leisurely meal, sitting together on the window seat and overlooking the nighttime garden. They had not spoken very much—there seemed to be no need. When they were through, she had helped Daav clear what was left and carry it down the back hall to the kitchen, where he made quick work of stowing everything in its proper place.

Arms around each other, they walked slowly up the stairs. She had opened her door, thrilled and a little frightened after all, stepped inside and turned to look at him.

"Daav? Will you—come in?"

"Not, I think, tonight," he said, with a smile so regretful tears rose to her eyes.

"How if I overwhelm you, and both of us asleep?" he asked.

"
Van'chela
, we have spoken of this. Surely this evening's pleasures have shown you that we are safe together? I know you now, and will not mistake you for myself!"

"Even asleep?" he asked, and shook his head. "We cannot be certain. I suggest that we stay the course and keep to your plan of unhurried research." His smile this time was pure mischief. "And we have done prodigious amounts of research this evening, Aelliana."

She laughed then, and come back to him, claiming one more kiss.

"May a humble copilot suggest a course to his pilot?" he murmured, when they had done and she was once more inside her door.

Aelliana attempted a stern frown. "If you must," she said haughtily. "Though I may space you, if the suggestion irritates."

"That seems fair enough," he answered. "I merely suggest—most gently—that it may be worthwhile to use the Rainbow to anchor what you have learned this day."

It was only sense to use the tools she had in hand, and so, at last in bed, she had laid in the course, worked her way through the Rainbow—and fallen asleep.

And now, she was awake. Not only awake, but—

"I'm hungry," she said and opened her eyes, throwing the blanket back with a will.

Breakfast was again laid in the morning room, though Mr. pel'Kana was not in evidence. Doubtless, he had duties elsewhere, and Aelliana could certainly feed herself. She glanced toward the window as she approached the buffet, hoping for a glimpse of orange Relchin.

She was denied that pleasure. However, lying on the window seat, very much at her ease, was a cat with luxuriously long creamy fur, with startling blue eyes blinking inside a mask of sable brown.

"Oh!" Aelliana approached and offered a finger. "You must be Lady Dignity. I am most pleased to meet you."

Her ladyship graciously touched her nose to the tip of Aelliana's finger, and squeezed her eyes into slits—a cat smile.

"Thank you," Aelliana said. "I see that there's room on the seat for me, if you will share. Only a moment, while I gather some food."

The cat had accepted a bit of cheese, then curled 'round with her tail over her nose and closed her eyes. Aelliana ate the rest of her breakfast slowly, savoring the tastes and textures while she looked out over the garden.

So much had changed in the last few days—and not the least of it, herself. This connection with Daav—already so precious to her—complicated the course she had thought laid in and locked. Indeed, the very reason she had chosen so stringent a course—to leave Liad and all she knew—was now gone, vanished by a wave of Mizel's hand.

There was a commotion in the hall—a voice, somewhat familiar, asking in ringing tones for "Korval" and the sound of bootheels being set firmly against the wooden floor.

Lady Dignity's head came up. She listened to the noise for a moment, eyes wide in apparent consternation. Then she was gone, flowing off the window seat, and racing out the open door.

"If your ladyship will consent to wait in the small parlor," Mr. pel'Kana's voice was no less carrying, "I will fetch his lordship immediately."

"I will await him in the morning room," the lady said, above the racket of her progress. "You may tell his lordship that I will remain there until such time as it pleases him to give over playing in the dirt. If he delays himself until nuncheon, he will find me here. If he puts me off until Prime, yet I will await him. My topic will not be denied."

"I am certain that his lordship will be delighted to see your ladyship."

"Yes, of course. Do, please, fetch him as best you may."

A shadow moved at the door, and Daav's sister bore, noisily, in. Aelliana glimpsed Mr. pel'Kana's face over the lady's shoulder. He met her eyes and his widened slightly. Then, he was gone.

Aelliana sat up, juggling plate and cup; her movements drawing the lady's eye.

"Ah,
Pilot
Caylon," she said, executing an extremely brief bow in a mode Aelliana did not recognize. "We are well-met."

"I am pleased to hear you say so," Aelliana said in the mode of adult-to-adult. She rose and carried her dishes to the tray. When she turned back, she found Kareen yos'Phelium watching her . . . oddly.

She bowed, guest-to-one-of-the-House. "In what way may I serve you, ma'am?"

"It is I who may serve you, Pilot. Since we last spoke, I have researched yourself and your clan. Allow me to congratulate you for the astuteness with which you have improved your position."

Aelliana frowned, even as her stomach clenched. She was unskilled in social dueling. Yet, if she were not mistaken, Lady Kareen had drawn steel.

"Improved?" she asked, since one must say something. "I fear that I miss your meaning."

The other woman smiled, and inclined her sleek head.

"Certainly, to be under Korval's wing is an improvement over standing as the second daughter of an indigent and scarcely coherent clan, the minor children of which are already indentured to another House, and which has recently sustained the loss of its nadelm. I applaud your perspicacity and your call to action. But I wonder, Pilot, if you have thought this plan through?"

No, Aelliana thought suddenly, this game was well-known to her: Ran Eld had played it. He, at least, could often be drawn by a show of bewilderment. Perhaps Lady Kareen was vulnerable to the same ploy. Aelliana tipped her head and made her eyes wide.

"Truly, ma'am," she said, "I am in uncharted skies. What is this plan which I may not have thought through?"

Another smile, this one edged with perceptible malice.

"Why, I only mean to say, Pilot, that, if you wish to attach my brother more . . . permanently—but hold! Am I correct in supposing that you think of a lifemating? Certainly, I would do so, in your place."

Kareen did not know! Aelliana took a careful breath, and vowed to conceal the fact of her bond with Daav. There was no reason to place another weapon into her ladyship's hand. Even if one could not entirely see how something so straightforward could be given an edge, it was enough to know that she would use it to harm Daav, if she could.

"I had considered a lifemating, yes," she admitted.

"I had thought as much," Lady Kareen said, a note of satisfaction in her voice. "It is no secret that my brother is susceptible. He desires a lifemating, for his
cha'leket
has made one. It has ever been the case that what one of the pair has the other must have in equal measure. Further, it would seem that you have appealed to his natural inclinations. So far, you have done well—no, I will not stint! You have done brilliantly! However, before you take the next step, I ask you, most urgently, to review your scheme. You stand at a cusp point, Pilot. One wrong throw, here and now, and you lose all."