Whispers on the Wind (21 page)

He swung a gesture at the sea before them. Now, in addition to the birds that danced on its waves, she saw the dark fins of some kind of swimming creature just cutting the surface of the water, approaching at great speed. Still holding her hand, Jon walked from the resilient ground cover over the hot, shifting sand and stood at the creaming edge of the surf.

The animals cavorted near the surf-line. Larger than dolphins, smaller than orcas, the deep blue shade of their sides lightened to silver as they rolled, revealing inky-black double fins on their backs.

“The
mazayin
enjoy company. Come and meet them. We will swim with them.” He smiled into her eyes. “For a time,” he added, and her insides quivered at the promise she heard in his voice. Half of her was intrigued by the thought of swimming with the animals he called
mazayin
, but the other half of her wanted only to lie with him again in that soft vegetation, to be alone, to once more realize the totality of satisfaction she had found in physical union with Jon.

Still, Lenore let him lead her farther into the water. Together, they waded waist-deep. The sea, or lake, or whatever it was, wrapped around her body, warm, silken, and as sweet-smelling as the air, but with different overtones—vanilla, cinnamon, and a hint of lemon. It was totally unlike any water she had ever experienced. Even its texture seemed special, softer somehow, more limpid. A
mazayin
glided close by, stroking her thigh, and, startled, she crowded nearer Jon, but the creature was no threat. It smiled at her and...

It sang!

Its song was not one with any words she could understand, but she was aware of the rhythm, the rhyme of its music. Something compelled her to reach out and touch it. Its hide was soft, like the finest kid gloves she had ever owned. She stroked it and then, to her amazement, it dove and came up under her, lifting her fully from the water. She clutched the fin before her, felt the one behind her flatten and curve to support the small of her back. The beast submerged until she was breast-deep and then, suddenly, she, still astride its back, was flying across the surface of the water, Jon astride another
mazayin
right beside her, leaping from wave-top to wave-top.

She was one with it, their minds, their bodies, their emotions linked and harmonized. She sang its song, danced its dance, knew its joy and took a deep breath without knowing why she must, and held it. Down, down, down they dove through crystalline depths where fantastic creatures swam among long, waving fronds of rainbow-tinted luxuriance.

A galaxy of stars burst before her, around her, within her, as the
mazayin
exhaled a vast bubble of air for her to breathe, and then they continued on, each turn of its body opening new vistas to her. Light reflected in diffused patterns as she looked up at the silvery surface, refracted as she looked down, and out, and inward, absorbing a kind of beauty she had never seen before.

Suddenly, they went sweeping upwards again, leaping free, back into the sparkling air. As she drew in another breath, she realized she had never once felt stifled, not for an instant feared for her life. With the
mazayin
, she had explored a world even more alien than the Maxfield Parrish vista in Jon’s
Kahinya
.

Again! she begged and once more she and her mount, Jon and his, flew across the surface of the sea. At times she was immersed up to her neck. Other times, she saw water-drops glistening as they poured down her legs and off her toes, splashing to the surface many feet below as her
mazayin
leapt free of the sea. She felt no fear, only an incomparable sense of freedom, of oneness with the
mazayin
—and with Jon, as if the unity of the beasts opened a link between the two of them, psyche to psyche, soul to soul. She glanced over at Jon and saw her own delight mirrored in his face.

Her hair whipped back. Spray flew. She laughed from unadulterated joy. Birds called and a great chorus of
mazayin
song filled not only the air, but her heart. She threw back her head and sang their wordless song from the sheer delight of being alive.

At her silent pleading, they once again descended beneath the surface, circling a reef of coral with colors so intense she held her breath though the
mazayin
had just given her another bubble to breathe from. Never had she felt such a staggering sense of familiarity, almost of homecoming. This was her place, one she knew she would want to return to again and again, no matter what it took. And she knew, too, that she would want to return with Jon, that without him, the magic would not exist.

Even if he could not love her as she wanted to be loved, could not be her life-long mate, she would stay with him for the duration of his time on Earth and if he left her with a child, she would love it, cherish it, learn with it and someday, tell it the truth of how it had come to be.

On a tiny islet, hardly more than a shallow part of the sea, the
mazayin
left them for a time, going off to feed on the sea growth far, far below. Their song faded to a faint, lilting murmur.

With their feet buried in soft sand, the sweet-scented water supporting them, Jon lifted Lenore until her legs were around his waist. She made no protest, only looked into his eyes as he gazed into hers. Bending his head, he kissed her breasts, her neck, her stomach. He laid her out in the water so she floated before him, linked only by her legs around him, and traced hot patterns over her skin with damp fingers. He dipped them inside her, bringing her close to the verge of ecstasy, then grasped her thighs and pulled her to him, entering her with exquisite slowness that left her writhing and gasping, straining to get closer.

He tugged her legs farther apart, opening her wider as he gave her everything she wanted. When he was finally deep within her, he stayed very still, holding their slick bodies together, letting only the slow, undulating motion of the waves move them against one another. It was a peerless consummation, him so large, yet so still within her, filling her completely, only the gentle movement of the waves as they rocked and floated her, creating an extraordinary sensation. When her climax began in small, quivering flashes of heat that built and swelled and finally overcame her in a rush, he joined her in the release, letting her body float free again but for that scalding point of union, throwing back his head and shouting his relief to the sky above.

“Jon...” She could scarcely stand, but he supported her, leading her to an even shallower spot where soft, slick seaweed cushioned them as they sat, letting the ripples wash over them as aftershocks did the same.

“I have never...” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Never what?” His murmur was close to her ear. His hair dripped onto her cheek. She licked away the drops, loving the taste of the water, the taste of him.

“Never known anything like that.”

“Nor have I.”

She lifted her head and looked at him, shaking her head. “You must have. I suspect you Aazoni are much more...accomplished in such matters.”

He stroked her hair back from her face, and she felt the streams of water from it trickling down her back. “I have some...controls,” he admitted. “But somehow, with you, I seemed not to be able to maintain them for long.”

“Which is probably a good thing. My heart might have stopped dead if you’d controlled yourself, controlled our joining, denied us both release any longer.”

He laughed softly as he cupped her face between his two hands. “No it wouldn’t have, my
letise
. I would never let that happen.”

The
mazayin
returned then, and Lenore wondered if Jon had called them or if they had just known their presence would no longer be an intrusion on the privacy of the people who’d had other games in mind.

How long they swam and played, dived and leapt with the
mazayin
the second time, Lenore never knew. Time had crystallized for her, but the psychic animals knew when hunger pangs began to gnaw at her, for they turned and sped back toward the island, which was nothing more than a distant blur on the horizon. Long after the
mazayin
had carried her and Jon back to the shallows and left them there, she endured a fierce longing to return to that place of shallow water, far out of sight of land, where there had been only her, and Jon, and the water that surrounded them.

As Jon showed her what fruit to collect from three different shrubs, and, with a
florentia
shell, dug nuts from beneath a
belgrina
tree, the warm winds dried their skin and hair.

Looking into the shell, she saw the shimmering mixtures of shades Jon claimed he had found in her hair. As the light winds tossed her tresses, blowing them across her eyes, for just a moment she thought she saw what he could see. For just a moment, she felt beautiful.

She touched her skin, finding it as silken and smooth as the water had been. She felt as if she had been bathed in the most luxuriant spa ever dreamed of. Inside and out. Simply looking at Jon was enough to make her shudder with want again, desire such as she’d only dreamed of—but not until he had entered her dreams. She pushed that thought away. What he had done, what she had done, the bond they had formed, both physical and emotional, seemed far more real than anything, even in the dreams.

With broad, reddish leaves from the
belgrina
tree as impromptu bowls filled with a variety of fruits, they reclined in the mossy growth and fed each other with the sweet, succulent flesh.

It satisfied both thirst and hunger, but somehow, honed a different hunger in Lenore. And, she knew without being told, in Jon. She leaned over and kissed his warm shoulder, feeling him quiver beneath her touch. She ran a hand up his biceps, lifted the other and cupped his face, marveling again at his lack of beard, and turned him toward her.

“I want you to kiss me,” she said.

“I want to do much more than kiss you,” he replied, but continued to hold back.

“Then do whatever you want,” she invited him.

He did whatever he wanted, and miraculously, it was what she wanted, too.

“Now is it my turn again?” she asked.

He laughed at her eagerness. “Soon it will be, but first, we will rest.” He laid his hand on her forehead, stroked gently from temple to temple, and when she awakened, they were back in the bedroom in her Port Orchard apartment.

She touched Jon’s face, slid her hands into his hair, so thick and soft to the touch it was like exploring the pelt of an exotic animal. She wove her fingers through it, reveling in its texture.

“Where did you take me?” she asked. “Was it real, or a dream?”

“It was real while we were there. My
Kahinya
helped me to recreate it for us.”

“But where was it?”

“A place neither of us have ever been before,” he said.

“How did your
Kahinya
know to take you there if you had never been there before?”

His smile, so tender as to make her chest ache, the caress of his fingers on her cheek, suggested, however improbable it seemed, his feelings went as deep as her own. “That’s not what I meant,
letise
. The physical place is one I have visited many times. It is an island in the Sea of Lancore on Aazonia. But where you and I went...that was unique. To both of us.” He rolled to one side and drew her with him, her head on his shoulder. He brushed her hair from her face.

“Did we...Uh, did we do what I thought we did, or was that an illusion you created?”

His smile curved his beautiful lips. “
Letise
, we did everything you remember. The only illusion was the physical surroundings.”

“The
mazayin
...?”

“Yes, they were an illusion. I have swum with them many times. That, I shared with you.” He paused long enough to kiss her again, long enough to make her quiver with need. “But not as we shared our bodies with each other. That was very real.”

“I’m glad,” she said. “Because it’s a kind of sharing I have never known before.”

“Nor I. Even without
baloka
, you and I, together, reached heights I had only thought I might be capable of.” He shivered and she reached down to pull a light cover over them both. “To go so far without
baloka
is not something I ever expected.”

“
Baloka
?”

“The kind of sharing true lovers experience when joined physically. Emotionally and mentally. It is what bond-mated pairs strive for and, often after much time, achieve. Some are more fortunate and find
baloka
from the beginning of their mating and know without waiting for it to develop, that they are to be bond-mates.”

She bit her lip. “Have you ever been...bond-mated?”

“No. Nor have I known
baloka
.” He became very serious, his eyes deepening to a shade verging on teal. “With you,
letise
, I would find it. This, I know.”

“Jon...we are...you and I, are not—cannot be—mated. Not in any meaningful way.” She drew a line from his broad brow down over the ridge of his nose, pausing at his lips until he parted them and took her finger inside. Slowly, she pulled it free. “You’ll leave when your Octad is complete and you’ve found your sister. I know this. You know it. We have no future.”

He closed his eyes for a moment. “I know that,” he whispered. “Do you think I want to leave you now that I have found you?”

“I don’t know.”

Capturing her in his arms, he rolled her over top of him. “I will not want to leave you. I will never want to leave you. If the only way for you to know that, to understand it fully, is for you to come into my mind, then do it,
letise
. Let me give you all that I can.”

“Then it wasn’t the red sea-bird that said those words to me. It was you. Why would I hear it, but not sense your request?”

“You would,” he said, “if you would come into my mind. It’s open to you,
letise
. You need only enter.”

She drew in a tremulous breath. “I...don’t know how.”

His fingers encircled her wrists as he rolled her back over until he was on top of her. Drawing her hands up, he placed them on his temples. His hair tumbled over her fingers and wrists. “Close your eyes,” he said. “And feel. See. Know. Everything.”