Hienama (4 page)

‘Did you come here to Jesith to
train?’ I asked him.

He shook his head. ‘No, I was
incepted here, a few years ago. A friend of Sinnar’s brought me
here.’

‘Have you trained?’

‘A bit. Is that all you’re
interested in?’ He took a drink. He was trembling.

‘No, just curious.’ I sat down
beside him. He was a different har now, unsure of himself, nervous.
I took the drink from his hand. ‘We’ll be friends. OK?’

He smiled at me rather bleakly.
‘What’s this about, Jass?’

‘You came here. You know what
it’s about.’ I took his face in my hands, bent my head to his. He
knew I wanted him to be soume and became so willingly. As we shared
breath, I put my hand between his legs and stroked him through his
trousers. I kept stroking him gently until the cloth felt damp.
Then I pulled away from his mouth. He gasped, his eyes closed. I
took off his clothes, as Ysobi had done to me. I pushed him back
into the dusty cushions and raised his knees. His soume-lam was a
dark flower in the dim light, as were the bunched folds of his
ouana-lim, which had shrunk into his body. I stared at him, wanting
him to feel vulnerable and exposed. I put a finger into him, felt
for the first energy centre and gently rubbed it. He groaned and
warmth spread over my hand. Then I knelt before him on the floor
and kissed the outer folds of his soume-lam. He smelled fragrant,
like violets. I would do to him what I wanted done to me. When I
finally put my tongue inside him, the first sikra was already a
hard little nut. He put his hands on my head, pulled me closer,
raising his legs. Fluid gushed over my face, he was so aroused. I
drank it, feeling my ouana-lim pressing painfully against my
trousers. Reaching down with one hand, I released it. I pushed my
trousers down to my thighs. I meant to do what Ysobi had done, just
connect us hip to hip, but ultimately I couldn’t do that.

I pushed Zehn round until he
was lying on the sofa, then lay on top of him. When I pressed
against him, I was at exactly the right angle and slid right inside
him. He put his legs round my waist and we shared breath again. My
face was wet against his. He licked me. I kept it slow and deep,
ceasing movement when I sensed him begin to peak. He uttered soft
little groans of pleasure, holding me close. We melted into each
other: I was a hawk flying, a silver fish at the bottom of the
willow pool. Beautiful visions cascaded through my mind. This was
how it should be. I felt my own peak approaching, the tingle in my
ouana-lim that presaged the darting tongue. Our movements became
frantic, fluids foaming between us like horse’s sweat. We were two
sea creatures, bubbles all around us in the dark, writhing and
pulsing. The ouana-tongue shot out and embedded itself. Aren jetted
out around it; I could feel every pulse. Zehn pushed his legs high
into the air and yelled. I felt the contractions, not just in his
soume-lam, but throughout his whole body. In my mind, we shot out
of our watery bed and took to the air, fins turning to wings. When
the tongue came out of him, I began moving again, so he’d reach
another peak. It was entirely physical then, like it had been for
me with Ysobi. Zehn’s cries were like those of pain. Then I lay
still and heavy upon him.

For some minutes, neither of us
spoke or moved, then Zehn began stroking my back. ‘Jass,’ he
murmured. ‘God, Jass.’

I raised myself and looked down
at him. His lips were heavy, almost bruised-looking, and his eyes
were half closed. He looked sated, utterly sated. ‘Now you know,’ I
said. ‘Was it good?’

He laughed weakly. ‘Good? Jass,
that was… It was the sort of aruna I imagine chesnari would have,
the sort you dream of, and always try to find.’

‘You’ve done quite a lot of
looking, haven’t you?’ I smiled. I didn’t want that to be a
spiteful question.

He nodded. ‘Yes. My instincts
were right, though. I knew there was something different about
you.’

‘I wanted to give you pleasure,
that’s all.’ I got up from the sofa, and now he lay there with his
legs open, totally unembarrassed. There would be stains left behind
him. I handed him his drink again.

He would be confused, thinking that was
the most wonderful aruna he’d ever had, and did it mean nothing to
me?

‘Why now?’ he asked me. ‘What
was all that bitching about these last few weeks?’

‘I don’t like to be taken for
granted,’ I said. ‘I thought it might be more interesting to make
you work for me.’

‘Have you ever been chesna with
somehar, Jass?’

I stared at him steadily. ‘No.
I’m not looking for that.’

He looked away from me, sat up
and reached for his clothes. If I were ever to be intimate with him
again, it wouldn’t be for a while. I felt contrite though, because
he looked as if I’d punched him in the gut. Again, I knew that
feeling.

‘Hey, we’re friends,’ I said
softly. ‘Friends take aruna. Don’t go weird on me. This is not the
Zehn I know.’

‘You’ve no idea,’ he said,
pulling on his shirt. ‘You don’t know me at all. You don’t know how
I feel.’

It occurred to me that I did. I
went to him, held him close. ‘It was good,’ I murmured into his
hair. ‘Don’t let it be spoiled.’

He laid his head on my shoulder
and sighed. ‘You want me to go now, right?’

I did, but relented. ‘I was
going to make myself something to eat. I’ve drunk too much. Are you
hungry?’

‘A bit.’ He laughed; a watery
sound, full of unshed tears. ‘I never thought this would happen to
me,’ he said.

The following day, I was
nervous about going to the Nayati. I was almost scared of facing
Ysobi, sure that my face would betray me. When I knocked and
entered his room, he was standing on a stool, watering some plants
on a high shelf. ‘Hi, Jass,’ he said. ‘Get yourself a drink. I
won’t be long.’

I went into his kitchen,
noticing all the little details of his life: a plate left unwashed
beside the sink, a note to himself left on the counter. When I went
back into the main room, he was sitting on the floor. ‘I think we
should take things easy today. We’ll look into some history. It’s
quite interesting to see the ways humans viewed arts such as
ours.’

‘All our arts?’ I enquired.

‘Yes. All of them.’

I sat down in front of him. ‘I
tried out some of your techniques on Zehn last night.’

Ysobi laughed. ‘Well, you’re
commended for doing homework, but he’s hardly a har I’d choose for
such work. What were your results?’

‘Nothing much. I just made him
fall in love with me.’

Ysobi didn’t laugh at that. ‘Be
careful,’ he said. ‘I think you’re very responsive, and one day
could be a hienama of arunic arts. It gives you power, and that’s a
responsibility. When you can do certain things to a har, take him
to places inside himself he’s never visited, it can be
misinterpreted. It shouldn’t be used to play with hara’s
feelings.’

‘Believe me, I know that.’

Ysobi frowned. ‘Is there
something wrong, Jass?’

I shook my head. ‘No. I’m just
astounded how little I knew before. Have any of your students ever
fallen in love with you, Ysobi?’

‘I make it clear they
shouldn’t,’ he said.

From then on, I had to act.
Ysobi interspersed ordinary lessons with further teachings of his
art, times to which I looked forward with joy and dread. I was
always soume, and I wondered if there would ever come a time when
he’d teach me the other role. I had to prevent myself from hanging
on to him, pulling him into my arms when we’d finished or, worst of
all, uttering some embarrassing endearments. As the weeks
progressed, I fell for him more and more, an endless fall into a
black pit. I loved everything about him: his humour, the way his
face moved, his voice. I’d thought him strange-looking to start
with, but his appearance had grown on me so much he was now the
most beautiful har I’d ever met. He taught me how to store arunic
energy for later use. He taught me how to control my body, but not
how to control my heart.

As for Zehn, he was a casualty
of Ysobi’s effect on me. Superficially, we maintained a bantering
friendship, but I could sense his pain. He had resolved to stifle
his feelings, and it was a terrible fight for him. In some ways, it
was good for him, because I knew he’d used many other hara, with
little regard for their feelings. I hoped that now he would take
more care, and understand the fragility of the harish heart. I
couldn’t be so cruel as to initiate anything between us again. It
would only make things worse.

It was the gossip of Jesith
that something had happened between Zehn and me. Minnow was
delighted and pressed for details I would not give. Vole only gave
me a sorrowful glance. ‘Zehn is hurt,’ he said. ‘I know he has his
ways, but he’s a good har, really. Everyhar likes him.’

Other hara were amused by the
fact that Zehn had met his match. This included a good percentage
of the broken hearts he’d left in his wake. The redhead he’d been
with when I’d first arrived, Fahn, said to me, ‘It’s about time he
had some of his own medicine, Jass. You did the right thing. You
were the only one who could. It wasn’t as if he was just a free
spirit; he wanted hara to adore him. He’d make you feel that way,
then he’d walk away from you. I still think of him.’

I didn’t want to hear these
disclosures, even though I liked Fahn and we were becoming good
friends. Zehn, it appeared, was no longer a free spirit, although
you’d never have guessed that to look at him. I didn’t notice any
discernible change in his behaviour, but I congratulated myself on
the fact I might have taught him something.

Summer was fading, and Sinnar’s
hara applied themselves to the harvest. There was so much to gather
that often I worked late into the night. An air of celebration
filled Jesith, building up to the great festival of Shadetide, the
onset of winter.

My training was still progressing well,
and I sensed a connection between Ysobi and myself that went beyond
mere teaching. Was I imagining it? Sometimes, he looked at me in a
certain kind of way, and I couldn’t help wondering, but despite
this there was also a barrier that stopped me overtly flirting or
saying anything obvious. When we practiced arunic arts, he was
still academic about the whole thing. I couldn’t make up my mind
whether he liked me or not, and there was no way I could discuss it
with anyhar else. I felt sure my friends would somehow disapprove.
Having a crush on my teacher seemed embarrassing and juvenile.

I had only one clue to go on,
which gave me hope. One time, at the height of aruna, he said my
name. It was like he said it to himself, not to me. His eyes were
closed. I said his name too. He opened his eyes and looked at me,
and I sensed I should have kept silent. He dismissed me early that
day. I think he was furious with himself, but that had to be a good
sign, didn’t it?

Every night, before I slept, I
fantasised about him. My dreams were not of aruna, but of
conversations, meaningful ones. I invented a thousand different
ways for him to tell me he loved me. In these fond imaginings, I
was always in charge of the conversation. I said clever things, and
occasionally made him weep. It was a pathetic exercise.

Still, my feelings weren’t
going to go away, and I realised finally that if I didn’t act in
some way, I might go mad or say something really regrettable.

One afternoon, as I prepared to
leave Ysobi’s room, I said to him, ‘Do you never go out, Yzzi?’ By
this time, I felt it was safe to call him that.

‘What?’ He frowned. ‘What do
you mean?’

‘I mean that you spend all your
time working, meditating, and so on. I think it would do you good
to let your hair down once in a while, if only slightly. Why don’t
you come for a meal tonight at The Leaping Cat? The food is the
best there.’

He grinned. ‘Are you offering
me an invitation to dinner?’

‘Yes. Well?’ I think my heart
actually stopped beating for a couple of seconds.

He narrowed his eyes, although
he was still smiling. ‘I don’t usually socialise with
students.’

I laughed in what I hoped was a
convincingly carefree manner. ‘Oh, really, Yz! It’s a meal. I like
your company. Is that so bad?’

He considered for a moment,
then said, ‘Oh, all right. Why not? What time?’

I thought I must have acted
extremely well over the past months. ‘Come by my place around
7.30.’

‘OK… Where do you live
again?’

I told him.

When I left the Nayati, I could
barely believe he’d agreed to meet me. Was there a sign to be read
in this? He didn’t socialise with students. That meant he saw me as
different.

When he turned up at my house,
he looked different. Gone was the robe. He was dressed in a dark
shirt of soft linen and leather trousers. His hair looked clean,
flowing over his breast. The sight of him melted me. ‘Well,’ I said
in an ironic tone. ‘Clearly this is an occasion for you.’

He laughed. ‘You were right. I
should be more in touch with the community. Thanks for asking me to
come.’

‘My treat,’ I said. ‘I’ve been
doing a lot of overtime, so I can afford it.’

And it all went very well. We
arrived at the Cat early, so we could get a good table, with a view
of the street. I ordered everything he said he liked. We gossiped
about other hara in the town. We laughed.

Around nine o’clock, a group of
my friends came in and among them was Zehn. He came over to our
table, and pulled a face at me behind Ysobi’s back as if to
indicate:
what the hell is he doing here?
‘There’s a band
from the Shadowvales playing at the Pool tonight,’ he said.
‘Everyhar’s going.’

‘I heard,’ I said.

‘We’ll save you a place. Come
over when you’ve finished your meal. It’ll be packed. A lot of
out-towners will show up.’