Lyndon Hardy - Riddle of the Seven Realms

"Go and gather some fruits." He waved at the node that was before them. "I will pull the engine the rest of the way."

Astron looked at the deserted node and then back at the horizon the way they had came. The node that he and Phoebe had been transported to was well out of sight. Even though a good portion of the time had been consumed in constructing the bizarre apparatus that fettered them, they still had managed to walk from one node to another. After a rest, they might be able to manage two moves, rather than one.

Astron ducked under the branch on his left and smiled at his handiwork. The felled tree branches had been bound by leather straps to form the irregular framework of a long box. If stood on end, it would tower three times the height of a mundane djinn. At front and rear, a row of gears from the device of the chronoids formed a framework for the smaller branches jammed between their teeth. Like giant rolling pins, they spread the weight across the sand and allowed Phoebe and him to push the contraption along the bleached path from one node to the next. Sometimes, with a burst of energy, they were able to sprint forward against their harnesses and then raise their feet and coast for a few moments before friction brought them to a halt.

Far more important than the practicalities, however, were the other additions to the craft. Five more gear wheels of odd sizes were hung along the sides at haphazard positions. Here and there, small clusters of greenery sprouted at odd angles. The rusted swords all pointed skyward from three of the four top corners and the cooking pots swung from the cross struts. Even though it gave them some difficulty in steering, the harnesses which bound them to the frame were offset from one another. Astron was near the center of the very front while Phoebe was halfway to the rear and nearly touching the left side.

At first Phoebe had protested adding all the extra weight and the number of belts that she had to wrap around her waist. But when the first tug of the symmetries had come and passed over them with barely a ripple she understood the intent. They were not two single individuals but coupled together as one. Their engine was in all probability unlike anything else in the realm. Totally unique, there was no increase in symmetry in moving it to a particular node or switching it with anything else. They could move between nodes as they chose without constraints or regard to the actions of others.

"There is ripe fruit enough that we can provision for several moves," Phoebe said as she returned to the engine. She untied several of the canisters still gently swinging from the frame and beckoned Astron to the subnode where she had laid out a cloth.

Astron finished pulling the engine to the water's edge and then sat down across from the meal that Phoebe had prepared. With a dedicated savagery that surprised himself, he began to gobble down the slices almost as fast as Phoebe could prepare them, hardly bothering to sprinkle on the flours from the canisters that balanced the meal. Only dimly was he aware of the cool pleasure of the juices that dripped over his hands or the tartness that tingled in his mouth.

When he was finally done, he leaned backward with a feeling of contentment totally unlike anything he had experienced before. He shook his head in wonder. The sensations were quite pleasurable ones, but such a weakness it must be for humans. Without food and drink, their thoughts would soon be driven to distraction; they would abandon all reason, just as if their minds were seized by the most powerful of stembrains. And unlike his own kind, there would be no hope for remaining in control.

Astron looked at Phoebe through half-closed eyes. There was much risk in this quest for his prince and yet much reward as well. He had learned things that no other cataloguer could have even suspected. Even Palodad probably had no notion of the concept of hunger or of how it truly tugged at one's will.

Phoebe smiled back at Astron and swept the remains of their meal aside. Deftly, she closed the distance between them and put her hand up to touch Astron's cheek. "I wonder about the others, Kestrel," she said,"but there is some advantage for the events as they have happened. For the first time in a very long while, we are alone."

Phoebe slid her hand behind Astron's neck and put her lips to his. Astron choked in a moment of confusion but words would not come. He found his arms reaching around Phoebe and pulling her even closer to him. As he did, he felt a strange new feeling course through his body. He sucked in his breath at the intensity of it.

He was keenly aware of the softness of her back under the palms of his hands, even though her jerkin was in between. The press of her body tightened everywhere it touched. Without thinking, he maneuvered so that the pleasure of it would be greater. Astron felt his pulse quicken and his breath grow more shallow.

Desire swirled through his thoughts until only the tiniest ember of rationality remained. This was not like the duty for the broodmothers in any way at all. No cataloguer had dreamed of its potency, of that he was quite sure.

"You know that it does not matter," Phoebe said softly. "It does not matter what happens, Kestrel, just so long as we are together."

Kestrel. The name jarred to a halt in Astron's mind and did not go away. It was Kestrel that Phoebe was giving herself to, and not a wingless demon who could not weave. It should be the woodcutter's pleasure and not his.

Astron looked into Phoebe's expectant eyes in confusion. It would be Kestrel's body, nonetheless. Her sensations would be the same. And he would catalogue yet another experience of humankind. It was his duty to his prince. Astron licked his lips. The yearning was crisp and sharp, like the most brilliant sodium flame. Perhaps if it was not the first time, if he were more jaded to the senses of men, it would feel different, but he was feeling the rush of emotion now and must decide what to do.

"It is a compelling pleasure," Astron heard himself mumble. "In the realm of men, pleasure is regarded as a great good."

"The pleasure is because it is you," Phoebe whispered.

How much of what he was feeling was merely the construction of the bodies of men? Astron wondered. How much was some part of Kestrel that still lurked around the edges of his thoughts? What happened exactly when two awarenesses were switched, anyway? Was Kestrel, in the body of a demon, experiencing the same temptations with Nimbia? Did the woodcutter still remember his human emotions and seek to gratify them as best he could?

A sudden wash of reluctance cascaded over his desire. Kestrel and Nimbia-it would not be right. She did not deserve to be deceived in the way that the woodcutter exploited his own kind. And if she did consent, it would be because she thought it was Astron the demon, not a weak-bodied human slave given to hunger, thirst, sleep, and who knew what other tugs and emotions.

"What is the matter?" Phoebe said. "You feel so stiff, so uncertain."

Astron pulled Phoebe tight one final time and sighed. "It is not right," he said. "Now is not the time." With an ache in his loins, he then awkwardly disengaged and gently pushed her away.

"Then when?"

"After we have reached the origin. After everything has been restored to the way it should be."

Phoebe cocked her head to the side but gradually her smile returned. "All right," she said. "Perhaps the burden of our escape rests a little more firmly on your shoulders than I realized. I should be carrying more of the load, rather than be the weepy prize of the sagas. There will be time enough when we are safe."

She turned and groped for her cape. "After our rest, let me take the front position in the engine. You will need your wits, if we encounter a node that is not vacant."