Damia. Part 18

'When I was. .h.i.t on the head,' Damia continued, more to herself.

She sat on her haunches, not really wanting to, but nevertheless reconstructing her recollection. 'It was dark. They were darker.

They chittered like beetles on the outskirts and they tried to drag me away.' Her voice went shrill and she gripped her arms about her knees.

'They were going to get me, to eat my soul! Chittering, chittering!' She had dropped her voice, not as part of a story-teller's effect, but because she was succeeding in scaring herself with the memory.

'Damia! Stop it! You 're scaring me!' Larak threw his arms around her, his mouth trembling, his eyes watering with nervous tears.

'Damia? Tell me this is a story. Tell me there aren't any soul-eaters out here!' But Damia had triggered the recollection and was trapped in it, talking her own way out as she had struggled in the dream. 'They got me by the foot, then slithered up my leg, and always making this awful chittering. I could just make out a light. I knew that if I could only reach the light, I'd be safe. But they kept holding me back; they got my other foot and then I saw the light-' 'Light?' She didn't register the pure panic in Larak's voice, didn't see what he was doing. 'Then, I reached the light and Afra had it! He turned them away! Turned them back! He scared them with his light and then he touched me with it and-' Her eyes refocused and she shook her head, s.h.i.+elded her eyes. There was much too much light, illuminating the cave behind her, the clearing around her. 'Larak?' Larak was at the edge of the clearing, a burning f.a.ggot in one hand, spreading the flame to every dry branch and root he could find. To make enough light to keep the soul-eaters at bay.

Larak!

More scared than singed, Angharad, Isthia a.s.sured her daughter-in-law when the situation was finally under control. Overhead a water-carrying 'copter made another pa.s.s at the remains of the forest fire. We pulled them out as soon as Damia's scream woke us. She was too disoriented to 'port.

What caused the fire? Jeff wanted to know.

Larak. He used a firebrand to light the forest. Said something about soul-eaters and light. He was scared witless. Isthia replied.

He's sleeping now.

And Damia? another voice, which Isthia placed as Afra's, asked with some strain.

She's all right, Isthia quickly rea.s.sured him. What time is it on Callisto?

Early, Jeff said with some acerbity.

I was awake. Couldn't sleep, Afra replied and a mental yawn followed. I'll turn in now. Rowan, Jeff, Isthia. Isthia felt Afra's touch fade out.

Well! the Rowan declared tetchily. When is that child going to stop playing her 'tricks'? I really don't want Ezra learning from that sort of example.

I think she's been well and truly frightened, luv, was Jeff s verdict.

I would remind you, Angharad, Isthia said, her tone stern, that Damia didn't start the fire: Larak did. She has always looked out for her younger brother and protected him. Or have you forgotten the incident with the stone?

Anyway, Jeff interposed quickly, she's due to start Tower training so she'll be too tired for night-time treks. How far did you say she hiked? Isthia detected a note of admiration in her son's tone.

Once she learns how to 'port over distance, the Rowan said thoughtfully, she could actually commute from here to Earth everyday.

Just as you do, Jeff I'm not sure the galaxy is soft once Damia learns how to 'port distances.

The Rowan mulled that over. Well, I do feel that now is the time for Damia to return to Callisto and start using some of the skills she's learned. Isthia, we've impinged on your good nature far too long Nonsense, Angharad. It's been - educational, Isthia responded with a chuckle. Because of Damia, and Jeran and Cera and Larak, I got the Special School I wanted and Deneb is now actively looking for Talents to train.

Was that your reason for offering to take my children? the Rowan asked. She'd always known that Isthia had had some devious reason.

Not the main one, Angharad. There was Ian to be considered, too, you know.

Jeff guffawed. And he's tested out a T4. You did well by the brother!

What do you test out these days, Isthia? the Rowan asked.

I've never really wanted to know, Isthia replied smoothly.

Best leave with honours even, luv, Jeff said.

But I think it is time for us to give Damia the benefit of working in a busy Tower environment. Know that I - we - are deeply grateful to you, Isthia. And the Rowan was entirely sincere in that.

Isthia gracefully accepted the thanks for she was as fond of the mother as she was of the daughter.

She's starting to sprout since you were last here, Isthia told them.

So soon? Jeff mentally counted on his fingers.

Let's say that she's germinated, then, and should shortly sprout, Isthia amended her original statement.

Are there any suitable candidates there? Jeff wondered.

T-is? The Rowan's tone was frankly contemptuous.

Love, when a woman's fancy turns to men she does not always stop to check their pedigree, Jeff remarked carefully. Isthia could feel the Rowan's cheeks redden across the light-years.

There are no candidates here, Jeff, Isthia said in response to the original question. In fact, with Larak here it's as well you consider bringing Damia home.

Both parents were shocked.

Goodness! Isthia chuckled. You two think the worst things!

I meant that Damia would be ambivalent about dating a boy if it might compromise the special relations.h.i.+p she and Larak have for each other. Tsk! Tsk!

I take your point, Jeff said, somewhat abashed. It would be easier for her first romance if she did not have to worry about the jealousy of her little brother.

Exactly, Isthia replied.

Jeff made his mind up. Very well, send her back when term is over. I'll arrange for her continued education here. Not that it will be as good as what she could get on Deneb, of course, he added with a wink in his 'voice' Of course!

It was only after contact was broken that Isthia recalled what she had wanted to ask Jeff. Or rather Afra. To intercede on her behalf with Capella to find a high T-rating who would teach on Deneb. There was something positive to be said for a Methody upbringing. She hoped that a little more Methody might rub off Afra on to Damia when she returned to Callisto. Isthia was rather sure that he'd have a hand in her education. From comments that Jeff had dropped and her own observations of Angharad, Afra was likely to have taught her the self-control she'd needed to run Callisto Tower as efficiently as she did. Jeff had provided the emotional security Angharad required.

Isthia sighed, remembering his father and wis.h.i.+ng, as she often did, that Jerry was still alive. But he wasn't and she was. And this wasn't furthering the aims she had set herself for next year: delving more deeply into metamorphic manipulation. Unfortunately, Capellans didn't believe in that.

The hands which were thrust into Afra's view were no longer those of a small child but were still slender, graceful just like their owner.

'What do you think?' Damia asked, turning her hands palms up and palms down for his inspection. Afra looked up from where he had been kneeling, into the intense blue eyes in an oval face framed by long raven-black hair.

Damia had let her hair go long in the four years since she had returned from Deneb.

'Think of what, witch?' he asked, flicking to her back the one strand of white that emphasized the blackness and l.u.s.tre of her hair.

'This!' Damia stretched to her full height, running hands alongside her body. It was only then, with the girl standing boldly upright, one leg slightly before the other, that Afra realized she was not wearing her swimsuit.

She quirked an eyebrow at him provocatively, daring him to look away. Afra responded by scrutinizing her body carefully from graceful neck, to firm b.r.e.a.s.t.s, to graceful hips, sculpted legs and finally to delicately boned long toes.

'You're maturing nicely, Damia,' Afra told her when his inspection brought him back up to her eyes. He patted the water beside him.

'Water's warm.

Clothing in the gymnasium at Callisto Station was strictly optional and decorative rather then veiling.

Damia stamped a foot and squealed, 'No! The tan!

Afra, the tan!' Afra looked back at her body. He c.o.c.ked his head: it was slightly darkened. He put a green arm up next to hers and shook his head. 'Not my shade, I think.

Damia let out a screech of indignation. Afra!' She stamped her foot so hard that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s shook.

Afra gave her a teasing smile. 'Yes?' She pulled a bottle off the nearby deck chair and handed it to him. 'Will you put this on me?' she asked, her tone turning sweet. 'I don't want to lose what little tan I've got.

Afra took the bottle of before-swim tan lotion and eyed the adolescent carefully. He sniffed the bottle, put a little on one finger and rubbed with his thumb. 'How much and where?' 'Just enough to get me oily and everywhere, of course.

Her tone was just short of patronizing.

Afra obliged, starting with her backside. 'Your hair will get oily.' 'I don't care! I'll wash it later.' She lifted it out of his way with a hand. She twisted her head back slightly to watch his expression. It annoyed her that he merely laved her down gently, working from shoulder to b.u.t.tocks to ankles with no change of expression. Her eyes twinkled in antic.i.p.ation when it was time to do her front but Afra was just as careful and just as nonchalant when he lathered her b.r.e.a.s.t.s as when he lathered her nose.

Still, he did avoid one area. Damia coughed discreetly 'You missed a spot.' Without batting an eye, Afra oiled up his hands and dutifully went over the indicated zone. 'I guess you'll wash that, too.' To her intense pique, Damia blushed.

Afra avoided her face until she had recovered, spending the time ostensibly fumbling with the bottle's top. He hefted the closed bottle and, with a gesture, asked, 'Put it back over there?' 'Oh, sure,' she replied absently. She patted her firm belly for attention. 'Do you think Amr will like it?' 'Your belly? I can't see particularly why,' Afra said, peering wistfully to the empty pool beside him.

'Afra! Not my belly! The muscles! Look!' And she tensed, revealing an exceedingly well muscled body, with abdominal muscles showing clearly under soft tanned skin.

'Nice,' Afra replied absently. 'Let's swim!

'Oooh! I should know better than to try to compete against a pool with you!' And with that she dived in.

Hours later, she appeared in his apartment. 'What do you think?' she asked, twirling around to let the skirts of a diaphanous purple evening dress swirl about her. She had done her hair up in a bun, with her witch's streak spiralling around the outside. Long dark lashes accentuated piercing blue eyes. Dimples formed around her mouth as it curved gently in a smile.

'I think,' Afra said as he strode into the living room with his dinner, 'that you were taught to knock.' Damia pouted but her eyes twinkled mischievously.

Afra knew that look. 'You know how your parents feel about you 'porting around the station.' 'Are you going to tell?' Afra shook his head immediately. 'I told you when you returned that you were welcome any time, anyhow. The door is even keyed to your retinal pattern.' He gave her a measuring glance. 'But it is good manners to knock.' He put his plate down on the coffee table and gestured at her dress. 'I do like it, you know.' 'It's for our date tonight.' 'Date?' 'Me and Amr' 'Sweet sixteen is a good age to start dating. Where are you going?' Damia's face fell. 'Well,' she hedged, fis.h.i.+ng in a rush, 'Amr's picking me up at Earth Station.' 'So this is not merely a fas.h.i.+on parade. Do your parents know?' 'They won't have t.

'What are you hiding from them now?' Afra asked with some exasperation. Damia pursed her lips, bowed her head. Afra took in the look and let out a sigh. 'A special boy?' 'He's not a boy! He's eighteen - almost! she responded hotly. 'I've been seeing him for months now.

Tonight's special.' 'So I had gathered,' Afra replied softly.

Damia stared at him. 'You're not angry?' 'That you're ready to become a woman? Why should I be?' His detached response perturbed her.

Afra was aware of that but ignored it. Damia's affection for him had blossomed quickly into an infatuation as p.u.b.erty changed her from girl to young woman. Afra respected that and handled the change in the intensity of her emotions as best he could but refused to release the storm that would surely strike if he made any overt acknowledgement of it. It took a supreme effort on his part as he recognized how much joy he took in her presence but he refused to abuse and relinquish his position as her best friend and confidant.

'Will you 'port me to Earth then?' she asked him flatly, eyes flaring.

'You'll be careful-' 'I know what to do! she shouted back.

Before she could draw breath to berate him further, she was on the steps at the entrance of Earth Station. 'Hmmph! That showed him.

Call me when you want to come home, Afra sent along with a special stamp that Damia had come to accept as a quick } peck on her forehead.

Despite herself, she smiled fondly.

Damia had met Amr at Luciano's when Uncle Gollee had had to cancel a lunch date. Amr Tusel, with swarthy good looks and a ready smile, had proudly informed her that he was a T-9 and training to be a stationmaster. Damia, too worried that she would frighten him away, had not revealed her own Talent but professed astonishment at his prowess.

At eighteen it would be a while before a T-9 would a.s.sume stationmaster duties. They had spent that whole first night dancing, and Amr had walked her back to Central Station which despatched people to any part of the world. His consideration and his kindness had impressed her but their first kiss had her toes curling and her body flooded with emotions she had not felt so intensely ever before.

Since then, Damia had established that they would meet at Earth Station because (truthfully) it was closer to home for her. They had seen each other for over six months, catching films, tri-vids, cavorting at amus.e.m.e.nt parks and dancing the night away. As time pa.s.sed, they spent more time engaged in pa.s.sionate embrace than in conversation.

Several times in the past weeks Amr had had to break out of their pa.s.sion for fear that they would violate the few remaining blue laws.

He had not figured out who she was, having never seen the lofty Jeff Raven nor any of the Gwyn-Raven clan, but Amr had figured out that she was young and a virgin.

With a sense of honour and a Talented compa.s.sion, he had surmised that he was being considered for that most delicate of consummations.

The prospect had frightened him and for a while they did not see each other. When he relented, Damia had grown reticent in her own right and it was only with a loud and lengthy argument that she finally set the date.

Being dormed at Trainee Quarters, Amr had no room of his own for such an a.s.signation and Damia had dodged the possibility of using her house by saying that her parents were always around and that would inhibit her.

The hotel was just across the street. Damia had left an overnight bag at Earth Station several weeks before when she had first made up her mind and had retrieved it before she met Amr.

He approached her with a smile on his lips and gave her a quick kiss. He stood back, taking in her appearance and shaking his head in admiration. 'You are beautiful, Damia.' He took her bag from her, waving her onwards with a hand. 'Lead on, fairest of Venus's daughters!' Amr conducted the course of the evening. They checked in, left their bags with the bellhop, asking them to be taken to their room. Dinner, a full course menu, was first, followed by a leisurely stroll and then the dance floor.

They danced until the DiscoTech was reluctantly closed.

The last dances were slow ones and Damia's pa.s.sions had been aroused. The urgency abated slightly on the trip up to their room but Amr teased her back into pa.s.sion.

Pa.s.sion was not new to Damia: she and Amr had spent many evenings locked in tight embraces but always before she had broken free when her pa.s.sion threatened to overwhelm her. It had been incredibly frustrating. Tonight Damia felt free to unleash her full emotions.

Gently Amr drew her into his arms, sliding them down her stately shoulders to her delicate waist. He pulled her body close to his as they kissed with rising pa.s.sion. As pa.s.sion rose, their clothing fell.

Soon they were on the bed, Amr running crafty hands all over her body and Damia lost in a shower of feeling that threatened to drown her. As her pa.s.sion peaked for the third time, Amr gently entered her.

At first Damia was too distracted by all the other sensations of her body to notice. She froze for a moment when she did, looking up at him with a frightened expression but Amr smiled tenderly through his pa.s.sion and gently flexed his flanks.

Damia moaned, grabbed him tightly, wanting him in her.

In her ecstasy she opened herself up, pulled him along and they rose and rose, crashed, rose again and again.

You're Talented! Amr cried through his pa.s.sion. Damia heard the accusation in his tone, unwillingly offered to stop but Amr thrust himself deeper in her, thrust his tongue into her mouth, crying: No!

Oh G.o.ds, no! I've never felt this before!

They continued, Damia reviving Amr's flagging pa.s.sions until they were both afloat on a wave of emotion, drained, recharged, sizzling electric ecstasy pounded over them, through them, around them wave after wave. The exertions and emotions finally were too much for Damia and she drifted languorously from o.r.g.a.s.m to sleep.

Damia awoke with Amr's eyes glittering on her, following the line of her body like daggers. She was sore, sore in places she had never known she had. Muscles she had only just discovered registered their abuse with loud flares of pain as she moved one leg in front of the other.