by Dara Joy
His fingers stroked her face tenderly. "It is very good, name-giver. Very good indeed."
"Why?"
"Forus reached out to us, but we did not hear its call. In the way of life, it adapted itself and knew we would adapt to this place over time. Eventually, some were born with a certain disposition that allowed the connection to form. So the link started, and it has continued for seven hundred years. Slowly we changed, understanding more and more. Forus does not interfere with our choices, but the ability to connect with Forus can change our lives. There is a wisdom here, a well to sense, a knowledge to plumb—if you have the ability to translate it to human terms. Such wisdom could be invaluable to us as a species."
Green thought about that. A line of worry creased her forehead. In the wrong hands, such knowledge might also prove too tempting a manipulation. Was their society in danger? As a member of the House of She-Lords, she had a responsibility to protect the colony.
Jorlan sighed. "You worry about the possible threat. I cannot lie and say it does not exist—this is why I have kept the secret to myself, as I assume others do. They probably fear for their own lives and safety should their full gifts become known. Some of us can pinpoint the best places for crops to be planted, for the digging of valuable minerals... and much more. Green. The unscrupulous could seek to exploit, others to command."
"Very true. Are you in connection with other Sensitives?"
"No. I have never even known there were others until recently."
She wondered out loud, as so many others had, why the Sensitives were all male.
"I don't know why exactly."
Something else occurred to her. "The meteor-blades! Is this the reason you are able to wield them? Is it somehow part of you being a Sensitive?"
"Partly. You see they are not really meteor-blades, Green. They are real razor rock."
Her eyes widened. "That cannot be! Razor rock is deadly! No one can control its response."
"I can. Razor rocks are the true children of Forus. They are not off-world as the methodologists think. They are the by-life of an arc cycle."
"Explain this arc cycle."
He closed up. "It is too complicated to put in words. Suffice it to say that ore rocks are more than they seem."
Green suspected he did not feel comfortable sharing that information just yet.
"Why did you and the Klee yell into the storm?"
He grinned. "We celebrate the static change of existence. Existence is ever changing yet ever constant. The emotive-vision is a Forus gift and brings much joy. The arcs bring a signature. It is Forus's way to... "—he hesitated to find the right way to express himself—"to depict a great love of all that is."
Green recalled what she had witnessed. The Klee, beautiful and free, lifting their hearts to sing to the wind. And Jorlan doing the same. She would never forget how his beauty rose from within him. She was so thankful she had been there to witness it—to carry such an awe-inspiring image with her forever.
Forus was more than their home; it was their shelter in the storm. It changed her thinking, somehow. The knowledge she had been given tonight could help her effect widespread changes. If she lived past the morrow...
"Tell me more about the razor rocks—how are you able to wield them?"
"I am connected to all things here, as Forus is connected to me. I hear the pictures of our existence—as do these Klee and these firewings. I am part of every movement of this place, and yet I am separate. The meteor-blades respond to my movements; together we create the forms. The movements you call the Gle Kiang-ten. Your masters have intuited the secrets from the land but no synth blade could ever match the power of a real one. You see, the forms and the razor rocks derive from Forus itself."
"How do you do it?"
"I connect directly to the source, so I become its nature."
She viewed him thoughtfully. His words mirrored an almost identical tenet of the Gle Kiang-ten. "Can all Sensitives do this?"
"Some have the ability but... one can be more adept than another."
"Why is that?"
"I don't know. I think it has something to do with a manipulation of some kind... " He seemed genuinely puzzled.
Green bit her lip as she watched him obliquely. Manipulation...
The Santorinis.
Could it be? In trying to improve their species had Santorini accidentally created a greater, special "link" to this "alien" world that aided their survival? It was true that after Santorini's experiments the colony had begun to thrive. Still, no Santorini Sensitive had ever been discovered.
"Does this manipulation factor you speak of exist now?"
He closed his eyes a moment. "Yes."
"Is it coming from you?" She held her breath as she waited for his answer.
He closed his eyes again for a moment. "No."
"Can you tell me anything else?"
"The source of the manipulation... can manipulate"
"Is that good or bad?"
"I don't know. Forus does not make these distinctions."
"Have you always known about Forus?"
"Yes, Green. I just did not know about being a Sensitive. When I was young, I intuited my connection. It has always been with me. I never knew one of the byproducts of it would turn out to be ultrasensitivity to physical stimulation. Thank you for pointing it out to me in such an enticing way." His teeth flashed white in the darkened night.
She smiled. "My pleasure, blaze-dragon." She glanced up at the stars. "We should be getting back. It's late."
"We have time. Let's stay awhile longer." He rolled over, placing his head on her lap.
Green ran her fingers through his silky hair. She did not want to return yet, either. He gazed up at her, pale eyes luminous against the shadow of his face. Beautiful and so very like the waters of Forus...
She shivered. The connection. It was there in his eyes and always had been.
Every crew member on board the NEOFEM had noted and felt the beauty of this place. Despite this being their adoptive home, they all loved this land. It was not always kind but it was ever complex. And its embrace was pure.
"What is it?" he asked quietly.
"Nothing." Her thumb rubbed a small circle on his temple. Should she tell the Septibunal what he had told her? It was her duty to inform them of this startling revelation. And yet, how would they react?
He seemed to intuit what was bothering her. His long jet lashes flickered, shading his expression for an instant. Then he glanced up at her. "Don't withdraw from me, Green," he whispered. "I could not bear it if you did."
She gazed at him in shock. "Why would you ever think that? I love you, Jorlan. You are a Tamryn and the father to my heir."
His hand reached up to cup behind her neck. He brought her face closer to his. "The Slice might consider us tainted by our abilities to 'see' alien thought forms."
"That's nonsense. Your connection to Forus makes you all the more human. Surely your difference from Forus must be etched inside you—there for you to wrestle with; especially if you feel we, as a race, fall short."
His face displayed admiration for her own astute intelligence. Green had immediately fathomed one of the human difficulties of being in tune with Forus. He lifted his lips to brush her mouth softly with his own. "You are my connection," he mouthed huskily against her lips.
She smiled. "I hardly think so."
His lips twitched. "It's true. When you opened my world to the physical, you truly released my Sensitive nature. Brought it to another level entirely. I had intuited many things, but they did not connect within me until you ignited my desire. I will always be grateful to you for that, Green."
"Grateful," she deadpanned. "Wonderful."
He grinned, showing two deep dimples. "They say that the Dreamtree has the ability to bring forth desire... "
She knew where he was headed. "That is not always the best thing."
"Ah, but sometimes it is." He swung off her lap, to stand before her. "Sha
ll we find out what your desire is?" He held out his hand to her.
"Why me? Why not you?"
"Because we already know what my desire is."
His strong hands went to the collar of her gown, loosening the small ties. It fell to her feet, a pale cloud of material.
He released the clasp that held back her hair. Long strands of auburn cascaded about her shoulders and back, down the form of her body to her waist. Her breasts, which were larger now that Arkeus had been born, lifted against the silken mass. Nipples, pink even in this light, poked through the tresses.
Jorlan stared at her with a look of raw desire, so elemental that there was indeed no doubt as to what his desire was. Her.
He shed his clothes as she watched. When he was naked before her, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her under the flowing strands of the Dreamtree.
"That is simply a legend, Jorlan."
"Is it?" He bent forward to nibble the edge other lip. A sweet-musky taste of him to entice her into wanting more.
But she always wanted more of this man.
It was his very difference that attracted her.
And she didn't just mean his sensitivity, for that was only a certain part of him. It was as if they belonged together. As if every particle of her matched up to every particle of him. When they were together, they entwined and connected. Like arcs to ore.
The feather-strands swayed over her naked flesh, a thousand tiny strokes of gossamer. With every rustle of the wind, they sifted around her body, making her skin tingle.
Jorlan gathered her close against his heat, against the smooth plane of his torso. They became encased in a world of feather touches, born on the scent of nightsong.
"It feels as if you are caressing me everywhere, Jorlan," she breathed.
"Yes," he whispered, the backs of his fingers sliding down her back, tangling in her hair and the feather-strands.
In the distance a blanock began to sing its rare song.
Green closed her eyes, taking in the night, the sounds, the scent, and the feel of Jorlan around her. "It is Forus, isn't it?" she realized.
"Yes," he murmured. "Tell me, what is your heart's desire. Green?"
"You," she answered unequivocally.
"Then you shall have this desire." He pressed his lips against her forehead. "Listen... "
He closed his eyes and began swaying with her in his arms, swaying to the gentle wind, swaying with the feather-strands.
His muscular arms tightened about her waist. One of his palms flattened against her buttocks, pulling her into him. The hard length of him, smooth and velvety, slid over her lower stomach. Rolled above the mound. Pulsed against her skin.
His other hand tangled in her hair as his lips skimmed over her neck. He began to hum low in the back of his throat as he swayed them between the wind and feather-strands.
When his fingertips began to slide along her body, so light, so perfectly, she realized that he was connecting with the Dreamtree. The motions of the branches in the wind, in the night, became his motions. They were not guided by thought. They were guided by the feel of Forus nightsong.
Each part of her became sensitized to his bare touches, his breezy caresses. Only his manhood pulsed strongly against the underside of her belly. A vibrant link.
The backs of his fingers grazed over her nipples. Green felt her hair slide against the peaks as well. The lengthy strands slithered over his hands. The sight was erotic. Spellbound, she watched him stroke her body with light sweeps of touch.
Firewings, flitting around the Dreamtree, haloed Jorlan from behind. His dark hair slid forward, gleaming blacker than the night. In this magical lighting, his intent, chiseled features were more beautiful than she could ever describe.
She had never seen this expression on him before. He was giving himself completely over to the Sensitive within, allowing the emotion, the connection to overtake him. "
His palms dipped down her legs like feather kisses, sweeping up to where he pressed on her.
"You feel like the Dreamtree, Jorlan."
"Do I?" He blew gently on her lips—a temperate breeze, tingling the edges of her mouth.
"Now you feel like the storm, my name-bearer."
Green closed her eyes to enjoy the sensations he was giving her.
"And this... ?" he drawled close to her mouth.
Green felt the tips of his jet lashes brush her lips. Her mouth parted at the exquisite, delicate touch. "Magnificent," she breathed.
A warm gust of breath exhaled from his nostrils, tickling her neck and collarbone.
Suddenly she felt herself falling backward.
Her eyes snapped open and she clutched Jorlan's shoulders. "What are you doing?"
He chuckled low. "Trust me, name-giver." They fell onto a swirled pile of strands at the base of the tree. The feathery appendages cushioned the fall.
Green sank into bliss.
The cushy mattress cradled them both. The hanging strands continued to sway about them, a curtain of tactile pleasure. Through the filaments, the tiny flickering lights buzzed about.
It was the most perfect night, she thought. The most perfect man.
Jorlan rested full on her, his body at once cool and hot. Cool skin from the breezes, breath hot from desire.
Green felt supple contact everywhere.
Jorlan ran his lashes over her mouth once more, then swept them up her cheeks. She had never realized how unbelievably erotic male lashes could be. He combed them down over her collarbone, over her breasts. Then flickered the peaks of her breasts. Green arched up against him. Moaning quietly, not wanting to disturb the night. The feather-strands rustled.
His lashes tickled over the rounded curve of her stomach. The little sweeps stimulated every nerve ending. He flicked his lashes over the backs of her ankles, and down the arch of her foot. As he did so, he pressed a kiss on the side of her ankle and her instep. His mouth damp, his lashes dry, spiky. Then she felt those feather lashes skittering up the length of her inner thigh like a row of tiny spines. Green discovered that she was highly sensitive to such teasing touches.
She laughed, squirming in his grasp. "You are tickling me, blaze-dragon!"
His teeth caught the tender skin high along her inner thigh. He tugged before slowly releasing the prize catch from his sharp grip. "I want to tickle you... and tingle you... and... " His hot tongue licked at the sensitive area. Quick, tiny, damp flicks.
Green gasped.
"... taste you... "
With tiny laps of his tongue, he feathered her much as he had done with his fingers and lashes. When Greeny tried to reach out for him, he took the opportunity to wrap some of the feather-strands around her wrists.
Green blinked as she realized that he actually had the audacity to tie her up! A She-Lord!
He gazed down at her, eyes amused, fiery azure slits. Her mortified expression was all too easy to read. "Now this is truly interesting." He chuckled low.
"I think you should—"
"Do this?" He covered her mouth with his own and gave her such a deep, powerful kiss that Green whimpered into the talented mouth.
Then he showed her how a tongue could become like a feathery touch on silk. He laved her body with swirls of the barest touch. The tip of his tongue, fluttering against the peaks of her breasts, insinuating between the Dreamtree feather-strands to wetly tease her nipples. Green cried out, sending a group of firewings into tizzy flight. Overcome by her reaction, he drew the distended peak between his pursed lips and suckled strongly.
Then he went back to his agenda, using only his stroking tongue, scraping across every part of her until she was thrashing against him in the feathery bower. Calling out his name.
Calling out for him to come to her.
And only after he spread her legs and licked long and slow at the center-line of her nether lips, only after he had pushed her over the edge by wiggling the tip of his tongue at the very tip of that line—where he once again pursed his lips a
nd suckled strongly—did he come to her.
He rolled them over in the nest of strands. The feather-strands were all over him, on his back, in his black hair.
But he did not enter with a feathery touch at all.
He entered hard and fast and strong.
And he stayed deep.
Green gasped for breath against him, overcome by the sheer magnitude of his penetration. Overcome by the power of his love.
He hummed low in the back of his throat. That same, raw, husky sound that he had used earlier. Tuning.
Then she felt him seep into her. There was no other way to describe it. He was connecting with her. Just as he connected with the Dreamtree, with the Klee, and with Forus itself.
The sensation was overpowering. In the last sane part of her mind, the part that retained her responsibility to her sisters, she wondered if this could be a threat to all women. But the thought did not last long.
Sexual ecstasy of a kind she had never experienced in her life tumbled through her. It was complete. It was in every part of her. It was Jorlan in every essence.
She felt his life, his rhythm, his elemental emotions, his passion.
Green cried out in sheer ecstasy.
Atop her, Jorlan lifted her legs over his shoulders, penetrating her in a position she was sure no She-Lord had ever experienced. He thrust his hips hard against her and ground in, further accentuating her responses. Her nails scored the backs of his arms.
Jorlan moaned low. He had never experienced this kind of connection in his life! Not so complete.
Not so utterly complete!
"Green," he rasped, brokenly, for he could say no more. He threw his hair back off his forehead, catching her in his passion-hazed focus. Sweat dotted his brow.
Green's expression was one of utter amazement. "Did you know it could be like this?"
He nodded. Jaw clenched, he closed his eyes as tremors of awareness skipped through him.
And her.
She felt him in every pore of her body.
"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"It—was—not—time," he ground out.
"And now it is?" She moaned as he flexed inside her.
"Now it is."
Before she could ask why, he began to move in her. Steady surges, he swept in and out. Plains dotted with Klee... hukka fields bending in the warm rain... a screechwing descending for its nightly kill... a new-born human taking its first breath...