Bruce Cordell - Key of Stars

Anusha patted the coverlet next to her in invitation. Her nails were painted the color of the sea.

Japheth sat.

“Anusha,” he began, just as she said his name.

They laughed.

“You first,” he said.

She nodded. Then, “Japheth, we need to talk. About many things. Important things. About us, and about what we face.”

“All right. Of course,” Jepheth replied. “So …”

“The thing is, now that you’ve entered my lair … I don’t know. The world is a burden that will always be there. Our troubles too. Maybe both can wait, just a bit. What do you think?”

Her lair?

“I think I like the sound of that.”

His arm went around her shoulders, but before he could pull her closer, she crushed herself to him. The pressure of her body through their clothing warmed him like a fireplace hearth.

He cupped Anusha’s face in his palms and found her lips with his. Her skin was smooth and soft, and the first feathery touch of her lips jolted through him like a rogue spell. The touch became a kiss. She leaned against him with a delicious softness. The kiss slowed, becoming more intense, more sensual. Time seemed to stop.

Breathless, he was only able to whisper her name.

When she pulled her nightdress over her head, Japheth’s heart thundered so violently he felt dizzy.

Her feminine curves and lines were burnished with lantern light, as a painter might lovingly depict on canvas. Her silhouette branded his mind, setting his entire body on fire. Her touches were like the rolling sea surf, pushing him back and pulling him forward.

It seemed to Japheth they measured their heartbeats together, twining their sighs and caresses, moving in concert with the power of mutual need, tenderness, and a sweet intimacy that finally left him without words or thoughts.

For a few moments after she woke up, Anusha couldn’t recall where she was. Early morning light filtered into the room under the drawn shade, casting a pale glow on the wall.

She saw Japheth. He lay next to her, his limbs half-tangled in the coverlet. Then she remembered.

The man’s breath buzzed softly, and his eyes were closed. An old scar puckered a line up his thigh onto his hip. She reached out and lightly traced it.

Japheth’s eyes opened. He smiled, and his hand enveloped hers with a firm grip.

“ ’Morning,” he said.

“I’m glad you came by last night,” she replied.

He chuckled, “I wanted to come by ever since we returned,” he said. “I would have earlier if …”

She nodded, then sat up, drawing a portion of the coverlet around her.

“Japheth, now it’s time to talk,” she said. “Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” he said. But his smile faded as a line of worry creased his brow.

Anusha pressed on. “I like you,” she said. “A lot; that’s obvious. Problem is, I just don’t know if I can allow myself to fall for you. Anyhow, I’d like to-”

“I understand,” Japheth said. “It’s my traveler’s dust; you’d be crazy not to be worried about that. And my new pact. You’re wondering if you can really be with someone who …”

He trailed off when she touched a finger lightly to his lips.

“Yes,” she said. “But, let me finish-that’s something we absolutely need to discuss. Before that, though, we’ve got something even more important to attend to.”

Japheth’s eyes narrowed in thought. “Xxiphu,” he said.

“Yes,” she replied. “Because of what you did to save me, not allowing Raidon to destroy the Dreamheart when he first had the chance-”

His face hardened.

“I’m not saying you should have acted differently,” she continued. “Thank Torm you didn’t! But, because of that, we have a responsibility, both of us, to take care of the problem.”

“You said we should try to sink it,” Japheth said,

She nodded. “If possible,” she said.

He cupped her face with one palm, leaned forward, and kissed her. “I agree. It is our responsibility.”

Anusha smiled. If Japheth was with her, convincing the others would be easier.

“Maybe there’s hope for you after all, warlock,” she said.

“I’d like to think so,” Japheth replied.

Anusha glanced around the salon. How different it looked with everyone assembled. The table was so full that Raidon and Yeva deigned to stand. The scent of smoke stung the air; it curled up from the bowl of Captain Thoster’s pipe.

Anusha cleared her throat. “Thank you, everyone, for being here,” she said. “I’d like to discuss our next move.”

“Our next move?” said Seren.

“Yes,” said Anusha. “What are we going to do about the fact a petrified aboleth city followed us to the surface?”

“Bah. What can we do?” replied the wizard. “You know what lives in Xxiphu-we barely got out alive, and that was before Raidon decided there wasn’t a vintage or spirit in the city he didn’t like.”

Anusha glanced at the monk. The half-elf scowled at a spot on the floor only he could see.

Anusha began again. “If we decide-,” she said.

The captain interrupted. “The city is looking for something,” he said. The swagger was gone from his voice, replaced by a nervous conviction.

“It is?” said Seren.

“Yes,” Thoster replied. “I remembered yesterday. When it came up out of the Sea of Fallen Stars, it sent out a call. We all heard it, that terrible music …”

“I don’t remember any music,” said Seren.

“Well, that ain’t important,” said Thoster. “I heard it. And I finally figured out the command woven into the tune. The city, or whatever controls it, wants something called the Key of Stars.” The captain inhaled smoke from his pipe.

“Key of Stars?” said Japheth.

“Yes,” said Thoster. “And as awful as Xxiphu is all on its lonesome, I get the impression that if this Key of Stars is found, a whole new meaning for awful would have to be invented.”

“How so?” said Anusha.

“I can’t say; just a feeling I get,” said the captain.

Seren rolled her eyes.

“Why does that name sound familiar?” Japheth said. “Sounds like something I heard in a dream … Something about a Key anyway. Anusha was in it.”

Anusha clapped a hand over her mouth. “I had a dream like that!” she said.

“You know, I think I did once too,” said the captain.

Raidon stepped forward. “And I,” he said. He pointed to Anusha. “You stood in a realm of twilight mist. You were trying to tell me something about a key, though I couldn’t understand what you wanted of me. Something that made you sad.”

Everyone looked at Anusha. She felt her face grow warm. The reactions of her body were much harder to control when she wasn’t in her dreamform.

“The fact all of us have shared a similar dream is incredible,” she said. “I don’t know what it means. But I’ve had variations on it too, from the same perspective as you described; I saw myself. I just thought it was a recurring nightmare.”

Japheth rubbed his chin. “I’ve dreamed it on at least three occasions, maybe more,” he said.

Raidon nodded in agreement.

“I’ve only had it once that I can remember,” said Thoster.

“Well, I’ve never dreamed anything like that,” Seren exclaimed.

Raidon frowned at the wizard. Then he turned to the faux golem. “How about you?” he asked.

“Actually-yes,” Yeva replied. “Just before I came awake and saw you trying to stab Japheth … I recall fragments of seeing Anusha standing in a many pillared temple, crying …”

“What does it mean?” said Anusha.

“That Seren didn’t have the dream?” said Thoster. He blew a smoke circle at the wizard.

“No-well, maybe,” Anusha said. “But that most of us did share the same dream? I don’t recall seeing that misty expanse beneath Gethshemeth’s island or anywhere inside Xxiphu.”