Knight of a Trillion Stars (29 page)

Afterward, for a long while Lorgin remained on top of her, supporting his weight on bent elbows while he tried to regain his breath. He kissed her, then collapsed on the bed next to her, taking her hand in his.

“Tomorrow I will bring you to our home,
zira.
”

“But I thought this was your home.”

“It is my family home.” His thumb traced the soft skin of her small hand. “My home lies west of here—not too far, in the Towering Forests.”

“Towering Forests, what’s that, a place where trees grow as big as skyscrapers?” she said jokingly.

“I know not what a skyscraper is, but these trees do indeed grow big.”

“Do you have a house there?”

He smiled mysteriously. “You will see.”

“I hate it when you say that.”

He laughed, sated and relaxed. “Why?”

“Because nine out of ten times it turns out to be something I don’t like.”

His eyes flicked to her. “You like everything I have shown you, Adeeann. You just need time to adjust to it.”

She had a sinking suspicion he was right. Not that it didn’t miff her just the same. “Think you have me figured out, do you?”

He chuckled. “By
Aiyah
, no. I have never claimed to be a healer.”

“Very funny.”

“How did Traed appear to you tonight?”

Deana thought a moment. “I think he felt very relieved to be back home amongst people who care about him.”

“I thought the same. I hope he is strong enough to endure what faces him.”

“You mean going against his father?”

Lorgin nodded. “That and more. It is good Yaniff is taking him under his guidance. Traed has always respected him.”

“Who wouldn’t respect Yaniff? Even your rebellious brother respects him.”

“Except that Rejar always refers to him as ‘the old man.’ Do not tell Rejar, but I think it amuses Yaniff.” Lorgin yawned. “I vow I will sleep well this night.”

He turned to her, resting his face in his palm. “Adeeann?”

“Hmm?” Her eyes were already drifting shut.

“Mayhap next time you can be the one to ‘snooker’ me?”

Her answer was her pillow bouncing off his head.

Late in the night, Yaniff walked through the woods in the moonlight. In the distance he could barely discern the house of Krue through the trees. His penetrating gaze observed the stone walls and darkened windows as if he were seeing through the masonry into something else all together. He stroked the feathers of his winged companion absently, inhaling the fresh cool air of the Aviaran night.

“So, Bojo, all the players are assembled at last. Like pieces of a puzzle, they come together. Destiny, my friend, will be the thread that weaves the picture they make.”

His words were still echoing through the trees as he disappeared between the mist and the moonlight.

“It is so beautiful here, Lorgin.”

They had been walking through the woods for about twenty minutes on their way to his home in the Towering Forests. Deana surmised that Lorgin lived about half an hour’s walk from his parents’ home.

She let the peace and solitude of the land flow through her, deeply inhaling the cool, spice-scented air of the Aviaran forest.

Lorgin watched her as she walked beside him, so obviously taken by his homeland. This pleased him greatly. She had donned one of the
krilli
caftans this morning, a predominantly gold one delicately embroidered with black threads. The dress complemented the colors of his ribbons in her woven hair. This also pleased him.

“It is you who are beautiful,
zira.
”

She smiled shyly at the unexpected compliment.

Such a woman of contrasts, he thought. Uncommonly bold one moment, unfathomably demure the next. Always incredibly responsive to him.

Lorgin smiled to himself. He’d had to weave her hair twice this day already, and they had yet to have their midday meal. He wondered if she had any idea exactly what weaving his woman’s hair meant to an Aviaran male. True, the ribbons identified her as belonging to his house and to him, but over time, the custom amongst the men had taken on another meaning as well, as a record of their daily sexual activity. Aviaran men often counted how many times a
day they wove their women’s hair. It sometimes became a good-natured jest amongst the men as to how many times they had been called upon for the task.

And would not his Adeeann be furious if she knew how entwined male sexual prowess was with those interwoven ribbons in her hair?

He laughed out loud as he thought of how enraged her expression would be. She would probably refuse to wear his ribbons—a refusal he would never permit. Best for them both if she not discover this second meaning of the weaving.

“What’s so funny?” Deana looked at him with an earnest expression he found totally delightful under the circumstances.

He leaned over, lightly brushing her lips with his. “Nothing, my little
gharta.
”

As they walked along, it occurred to Deana that this was the perfect opportunity to find out where Yaniff lived. After all, if she hoped to see him, she needed to be able to find him first.

“Lorgin, does Yaniff live near your parents?”

If he hadn’t been watching a young
zeena
hop through the underbrush, he probably would have wondered about the question. As it was, he absently replied, “As a matter of fact, this pathway coming up here on our right leads directly to his home.” Lorgin smiled at her. “Or not.”

She furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“If Yaniff is not of a mind for visitors, the pathway mysteriously curves back on itself and the would-be visitor finds himself back on this main road.”

“Clever of him. What a great way to get rid of uninvited visitors.” She looked at him pointedly: the ultimate uninvited visitor. “I’ll have to ask him how to do that.”

Lorgin placed his hand over his heart. “You wound me,” he said teasingly.

“Impossible,” she scoffed. He winked at her, taking her hand as they walked along.

Now that she knew how to find Yaniff, she wondered how much time she had to play with. As casually as she could, she asked, “How long do you think we’ll be here on Aviara?”

“Yaniff searches for Theardar’s location on the Rim. I hope it will not be too much longer now that Yaniff knows who it is he seeks.”

“Does this process of…
searching
usually take a long time?” She knew he referred to some kind of mental tracking system that the old mystic possessed. How it worked, she couldn’t even speculate.

“Theardar has probably erected a shield. As a sixth-level mystic, he would have this ability. Yaniff seeks to penetrate this shield to locate his exact position. Look, Adeeann.” He took her shoulders in his hands, standing her in front of him.

They had come to the edge of the woods. There was a glade in front of them and across the glade was the Towering Forest.

It literally took her breath away.

Trees. Enormous trees. Some reaching five hundred to a thousand feet in the air. The diameter of the trunks had to be at least a hundred feet!

She leaned back against Lorgin as she gazed up, trying to see the tops of the mighty trees. Even from this distance she could feel a sense of the ancient and powerful supremacy of the forest. It was as if one could feel the serenity, the wisdom dominating those tranquil woods.

“It’s—it’s unbelievable!” Her voice was hushed with reverence. It somehow did not seem right to talk in normal tones in the presence of such natural majesty.

Lorgin’s arms encircled her. “It is beautiful, is it not?” He leaned his chin against the top of her head. “There is a
peace of being there that you will find nowhere else in the universe. Come, let us go home.”

He took her hand again, leading her across the glade toward the trees.

They entered the forest.

Deana wondered at the powerful tree limbs reaching to the Aviaran sky. Each limb surely was over fifty feet wide. The huge broad leaves rustled in the breeze, a sound at once pacifying and invigorating. She noted that some of the leaves were turned sideways, and questioned Lorgin about it.

“They let in light to the forest below. See?” He pointed to the forest floor, which was dappled in sunlight.

This puzzled her. “For their roots, you mean?”

“No. For us.”

Deana stopped short.

“What do you mean, for us?”

He admired the beauty before him, speaking in low tones. “These trees have a consciousness, Adeeann.”

“They’re alive?” Her voice had gone up an octave.

“Not in the way you are thinking. Not like you and I. It is hard to explain. Mystical.”

“Try.”

“The trees have a sense of
knowing.
They are sacred to this planet. We protect them always, for they are the source of all life on Aviara.”

Deana examined the broad leaves. “The oxygen!”

“The air, yes. They produce most of the air we breathe. They are also the home of many creatures, but all who live here must live in harmony. On rare occasions these trees will open for one of us.”

Her head whipped around to him, suddenly understanding. “You live within the tree, don’t you?”

“Yes. The Alliance gifted me with their permission after I had performed a certain deed for them.”

Deana thought Lorgin glossed over this “deed” pretty nonchalantly. She could just imagine what act of courage he had performed to achieve such a gift.

“Once their permission was granted, it then went before the Guild.”

“The body of mystics you’ve mentioned?”

He nodded. “It was eventually approved, but even though I had finally achieved the sanction of the Guild, I still had to see if I could find a tree that would accept me. Others had gotten so far, only to be refused.”

“You must have wanted to live here very much.”

“All my life.”

Lorgin came to a halt before one of the massive trees. She noted a platform at its base, connected to the tree by a series of limbs. He placed his palm gently against the bark.

“This tree accepted me.”

He stepped onto the platform, motioning Deana to join him. She gingerly stepped on. At once the platform began to rise, seemingly lifted by the limbs! Deana closed her eyes, a little frightened.

“Will—will it mind my being here?”

“No.” His arms came around her. “Do not be afraid of anything here. Once the tree accepted me, it accepted all that is my life. It became my home.” Deana opened her eyes, hugging him tightly to her.

“I’m not really afraid, Lorgin. I think I’m just awestruck. I know you would never let anything harm me.”

Her unconscious statement of her belief in him, so long in coming, shattered him. A strangled sound issued from his throat just before his lips swiftly descended on hers. His kissed her deeply, passionately, surprising her.

“What was that for?”

He pressed his lips against her forehead. “I do not believe I will tell you just yet. Perhaps it is for you to discover.”

Deana mentally shrugged, chalking it up as another Aviaran oddity.

The platform came to rest about two-thirds of the way up the tree, adjacent to an immense flat branch, which in itself resembled a vast platform. Deana looked around in wonder.

This was somewhere over the rainbow.

A garden lay before her. Beautiful pastel-colored flowers were everywhere, swaying in the light wind. Crystal chimes hung from every conceivable branch, tinkling softly. The peaceful sounds were augmented by the joyous songs of the trilling creatures she had noticed before. The tree’s broad leaves, now turned to a vertical position for maximum light, rustled softly in the wind.

Lorgin stepped off the platform onto the wide ledge. He held his hand out to her. Deana hardly was aware of taking it as she surveyed her surroundings. Instead of hard wood below her feet, as she expected, there was earth and grass. Grass growing on a tree limb!

The limbs seemed to intersect as they went in differing directions, creating several “yards.” Each flat-topped limb had to be at least fifty feet wide. A pathway led from the platform they were on toward the main trunk of the tree, where an opening existed for a doorway. She looked along the trunk, now noticing several smaller openings which she presumed were windows.

Lorgin didn’t head to the doorway right away. Instead he took her on a tour of the outside. There were five “yards,” each displaying a different garden. In one garden she noted strange vegetables and fruit growing. In another there were smaller trees, plants, and exotic flowers. In still another, she noted a large hammock swaying to the sound of chimes.

But the real surprise came at the rear of the trunk.

A clear stream flowed down the side of the tree, gathering into a small pool before it drained off the side, forming a
waterfall one level down. Deana sank to her knees by the stream and ran her fingers through the clear water. When she looked up, there were tears in her eyes.

“This is the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen.”

Lorgin bent down beside her on one knee. “And you are my most beautiful place.” He lifted her cool, wet fingers to his lips. “I cannot wait to make love to you here with this tranquillity of spirit around us. I have dreamed of it.”

She cupped his strong face. “What a beautiful thing to say.”

Lorgin, realizing what he had just said out loud, turned slightly sheepish. “Sometimes the warrior gets too poetic.”

She stroked his jaw. “I don’t mind.”

Not only did she not mind, but Lorgin suspected by her softening expression that she might even be partial to it. He kissed her palm. “If my words are pleasing to you, perhaps my actions will be more so.” His tongue flicked the center of her hand in a ticklish motion. She giggled. He smiled against her palm at the girlish sound.

“Are you going to take me inside now?”

Lorgin regarded her through half-lidded eyes. “Should
I
not be asking
you
this?” he purred.

Deana’s face flamed as it always did when he came out with one of his outrageous remarks. She pulled her hand out of his, pushing sharply at his shoulders to unbalance him. It worked. He toppled over, nearly into the pond. Only his excellent reflexes and coordination saved him from a dunking.

Deana stood above him with a righteous look on her face.

He grinned up at her from the ground, lying prone with his chin resting in the crook of his arm. “And here I thought you liked my poetic words.”

“I’m a tough critic.” She started to walk away, then turned back to him with an impish grin.

Lorgin seemed to be thinking over her statement as he got to his feet. He came abreast of her, throwing his arm around her shoulders. “Then I shall have to make
doubly
sure you are well pleased.”

Deana had a breathless feeling she knew exactly what he was really saying. Lorgin was contemplating another
two
rounds. She couldn’t believe it. He had taken her twice this morning already. And before breakfast, too. Did the man never tire? She peeked over at his vigorous profile. No, Lorgin never failed to rise to the occasion. The man was incredibly sexual.

Not that she was complaining.

His words alone had already made her wet for him. And wanting him. God, how she wanted him…

His touch, his caress, his embrace. She could taste him, smell him,
feel
him around her.
Within her.
Hadn’t he told her, shown her, that he had placed himself within her always? “
Even now,
” he had said. Yes, even now.

The realization almost caused her to groan aloud as she entered the dwelling with him. Quickly, she broke free of his arm lest he discern the power he was acquiring over her. She used her interest in the interior to camouflage her raging desire. In her mind it was a weakness he must never be aware of. Because she knew,
knew
he would use her desire to manipulate her to his will. He had done it before.

As devastating as his mastery over her had been, she knew it would be even worse should he decide to repeat what he had done to her at Traed’s keep. Worse now, because she acknowledged that sometimes, lately, a part of her
wanted
to surrender completely to him, to this power he had over her. And it frightened her.

“Well?”

Deana’s head snapped up to see Lorgin standing across from her, arms crossed in expectation. She had been so
wrapped up in her thoughts, she wasn’t sure what he was asking her. “Well, what?”

Lorgin exhaled noisily. “What do you think of my home?”

“Oh.”

He gave her a strange look.

She looked around the interior, now really seeing it. It was a large hollowed-out space in the core of the tree. In the center of the room was a huge dining table flanked by several chairs. Cabinets along the wall. A cooking area. Scattered jewel-toned woven rugs decorating dark wooden floors. Several low tables. A long high-backed bench with thick, richly patterned cushions facing a…
fireplace?
A fireplace in a tree? That didn’t seem so smart.