The Sartious Mage (The Rhythm of Rivalry) (38 page)

Once among the trees, we settled onto a few layers of blankets we’d spread out when the sun was still up. There wasn’t enough room for us both to lie on our backs without a hand or a foot brushing, and I welcomed the proximity.

Lisanda seemed to as well, running her finger down my arm playfully. “You know the only reason I’m sleeping in here is because I know how strange it would be for you to be brushed up against your father like this if he were here instead.”

“Right,” I replied sarcastically. “Because you would much rather sleep beside Kalli than me.”

“At least
she
won’t wake me in the middle of the night with spasms and…” Lisanda had a teasing cadence, but it quickly puttered out right before she stopped herself.

Squeezing my hand, she said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t joke about that.”

It wasn’t that I was offended. It’s just that I didn’t find any humor in it and didn’t have the spirit to feign it. “It’s fine,” I said as cheerfully as I could. Though when I heard my voice, I realized I should’ve stuck with speaking plainly. More cheer came out than I’d meant, making it obvious I was trying to hide how I really felt.

“I won’t leave until you have the cure, as I promised,” Lisanda said. It was an attempt to make me feel better.

It worked. This time I didn’t have to feign anything. I squeezed her hand back and told her truthfully, “You’re better to me than I deserve.”

Lisanda lifted my hand to her lips to give it a small peck, then she set it back down and released her grip. She flipped to her side, facing away from me.

“We should sleep now. I’m sure we’ll be up again…you know…later.” Her voice was apologetic. “I’ll let you hold me after you’re bandaged up.” She reached a hand back, found my arm, squeezed, and then wiggled farther away.

I knew enough not to ask any more of Lisanda. I was somewhat hurt by her reluctance to be close to me, but I couldn’t blame her. I shook during the nightmares and palpable light burst out of me, leaving me bleeding. I wouldn’t have wanted to be huddled against me, either.

I flipped the other way and tried to prepare myself for what I knew would come. I found it helpful to focus on my breathing, but thoughts about Lisanda were distracting me. I wondered if I rolled over to her, pulled her toward me, and brought my lips over hers, would she kiss me back?

An uninvited voice spoke to me, reminding me it was better if Lisanda and I were distant from each other, for it would be easier to let her go tomorrow. I sighed. I knew this was the voice of reason and that I should listen to it. Once again, I focused on my breathing.

The next thing I knew, I was in the dressing room spying on Lisanda and Jessend. I felt something brush against my arm, so I looked over and found that all the dresses to my right were shaking back and forth as if someone had just run by and bumped against them. The sisters stopped to glance over.

“What was that?” Lisanda spoke with a frightened whisper.

“I don’t know,” Jessend replied with the same tone.

With my heart thumping as loudly as a drum, I crouched against the wall behind me to make sure I couldn’t be seen.

“Do you see that?” Lisanda asked

“Yes, what is that?” Jessend said.

I sank lower, bringing up my knees to push my face against them. I knew there was no way they could see me through the rows of dresses. I didn’t understand it.

They both began to scream, and I realized it wasn’t me they were seeing. I popped to my feet and looked to my right. My darkness was there, a black shadow moving through the dresses like a dense cloud of fog.

My first reaction was to run the opposite way, but after just a step, I was already in the corner.

Turning and preparing for pain, I was shocked to find the darkness was headed toward Lisanda and Jessend, seemingly unaware of me. They were still screaming, frantically running to the door, but they couldn’t open it. They tried the wardrobe on the other side of the room next, but it was too heavy to move. The sisters grabbed each other as the darkness neared them.

Wielding a knife as one of its hands, the darkness used the claw on its other to shove Jessend away from Lisanda. It lowered its knife to her stomach. She was frozen in fear.

I ran out from the dresses, yelling, “You have the wrong person! That’s Lisanda.”

It turned to me with its featureless face, glancing for a moment before turning back.

“No! Don’t do it!” I screamed.

It was too late. The darkness sliced its knife across her stomach so deeply and forcefully she fell with the blow, tumbling sideways.

“Lisanda!” I shouted, feeling the pain in my own stomach as I watched it happen.

I was back. Kalli was hovered over me. I was panting.

“Is she hurt?” I asked, frantically looking around for Lisanda. I quickly found her kneeling behind me.

Lisanda put her hand on my forehead. “I’m fine, Jek.” The cool touch of her skin felt wondrously relieving. She brushed back my hair in a calm manner. With her other hand, she pointed down toward my stomach.

Kalli had my shirt lifted and seemed to be inspecting something. She whistled. “That’s a bad one. Good thing we have the right stuff for it.”

Then I noticed the bandages, towels, and water beside her. I became aware of the stinging sensation across my stomach. I sat up to see the wound. It was just as I’d expected to find on Lisanda’s stomach—a long gash that looked deep enough to take a week to heal.

“I’m sorry to wake you both,” I said, lying down again.

“Don’t be,” Kalli replied. Lisanda moved her hand to my hair, using her fingertips to run over my scalp. It created a chill of pleasure that felt as if it were seeping into my brain, soothing my mind.

Once I was cleaned and bandaged, Kalli said good night and left with a smile. Lisanda lay down next to me and turned on her side to face me. She propped herself up on her elbow to show me…a smirk? At least that’s what it looked like under the moonlight.

“Have I been in your nightmares?” Lisanda asked.

My heart jumped. I must’ve been talking in my sleep again. I could see from her face that she already knew the answer. It was just a matter of admitting it now.

“Yes,” I told her. Curiosity got the better of me. “What did I say?”

“You’ve been calling my name.” Lisanda turned on her back and looked up at the stars. “Your voice wasn’t loud but filled with terror. What was I doing in the dream?”

I lost my breath as the answer came to me. “Dying.”

“Isn’t it better someone else is attacked instead of you?”

“No. I’m used to the pain. I’m not used to the idea of watching you…” The image of her stomach opening up made my own stomach burn. I held my palms over my eyes and tried to rub away the nightmarish memory.

Lisanda put her hand on my arm. “Your darkness can’t hurt me.”

I was surprised how much better I felt with her hand on me. Soon I was embarrassed I’d been so dramatic. “I’m going to miss you,” I blurted.

Lisanda took in a long breath and then sighed. “Me, too. We still have some time, though. Come here.” She flipped to her other side, taking my arm and wrapping it around her stomach. I turned with her, and we nestled together tighter, wiggling back and forth to close all the gaps we could so that we were pressed as closely as possible.

Her back pushed into the newly bandaged cut on my stomach, causing a sting, but it was hardly anything compared to the pleasure rippling through my body.

She used her hand to press my arm into her stomach, and I gladly squeezed down on her. Her tight midsection was a delight to hold. I slowly moved my hand from one end of her stomach to the other, and soon she was running her fingers down my arm. I was exhausted from the nightmare and in a considerable amount of pain, but I’d never felt better in my life.

As happy as I was, though, I still wanted more. Thoughts of kissing her crept into my mind. This time, there was no voice of reason telling me to move away from her, advising me how hard parting would be the next day.

I decided to move her hair out of the way to expose the soft skin of her neck, its golden hue barely visible in the night. I sat up to lean my head over her, catching a glimpse of her eyes—closed and calm. Her mouth was slightly open, the corners of it twisted upward.

Her smell enveloped me. It reminded me of serene joy, of riding a horse with Lisanda pressed against me. The voice came back—well
a
voice. After I heard what it said, I didn’t think it was the voice of reason like before. It told me to kiss her neck. I brought my lips closer but refrained.

It yelled at me: Do it now! My whole body encouraged the idea, my heart aching for it, the rest of my chest hot.

My lips came down around her neck. It was the strongest kiss I’ve ever given, a bite without teeth. I pushed my tongue against her while I moved my lips passionately, opening them around her skin and then pushing them into a pucker.

She gasped and didn’t stop me yet, so I repeated the process. I moved my lips about her neck in a strangely careful motion, especially considering how little control I had over myself. Lisanda moaned, first quietly and then louder as I pushed my lips and tongue against her harder, taking some of her skin into my mouth with a light inhale.

Her hand came to my face, and for a moment I thought she would tell me to stop. But then she ran her fingers through my hair. I stopped to regain my breath, pushing myself up to enjoy the bliss I could see on her face. Her eyes popped open, looking worried I’d stopped. They strained to the side to find mine. Her hand still stroked my hair.

I let myself down to put my lips on Lisanda’s neck again, and she uttered a heavy moan and twitched. Her grip on my hair became tight, and she let out a quick breath.

Her breathing quickened and became louder as I continued moving my lips across her neck. Her hand loosened its grip on my hair, running down to my cheek, then back to my hair again.

I leaned over farther, kissing her cheek. It was accidentally too hard, as I was used to nearly biting her neck. Lisanda tensed her face and giggled. I quickly went back to her neck, and her giggle morphed into another moan of pleasure. Her hand shot to my arm around her taut stomach, grabbing me hard for a breath before slowly running up and down my skin.

She flipped to her back, looking up at me. Her eyes were wanting—the message on them as clear as blue sky. I was still leaning over her, propping myself up on my elbow, which had begun to ache, but I didn’t care.

Lisanda let go of my arm, putting her hand on my cheek instead. I found it wonderful how much we could say without words. I already knew she felt the same way I did, even though I barely understood the surge of emotions going through my body.

Lisanda pulled me down to her slowly, carefully. When our faces were about to touch, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, her plump lips welcoming me. I pressed mine around hers, and then something happened between us—I didn’t know what it was at first.

While our kisses were passionate, they were frantic, like we would be torn apart at any moment. My head was hot and cloudy, my whole body steaming. She was everything I wanted and more. The single most blissful feeling of my life and infinitely greater than the runner-up, whatever that may be. I didn’t want to think about it. All I wanted was her.

This was real magic. This did something to me, and I could tell it did something to her as well, but what? What was the word for this feeling? Satisfaction? No, that wasn’t it.

Our kisses gentled as we realized we had time to enjoy each other. Her lips were so sensual it gave me chills as she pushed them against me. I could feel them give and take, reciprocating the touch from mine.

I was slowly moving my hand down, grabbing her wrist for just a touch, then running it back up and locking fingers with her. Lisanda was doing the same motion, squeezing me as tightly as she could with her small hands.

Lust? Was that the right word? There was definitely lust, but there was so much more than that as well. Her other hand came up around the back of my head to rest as we concentrated on our lips.

No thoughts came to mind. I still had no control over myself, not that I cared. She ran her fingers through my hair, grabbed hold of my head, and pushed it against her face while she opened her lips to get more of me.

We gave each other hard kisses with open mouths mating. Lisanda was breathing hard, letting me taste her hot breath that only intoxicated me more. More? Could that be the word I wanted? It felt the most accurate so far. But I was also satisfied…the opposite of wanting more. Was there a word to describe the feeling of utter satisfaction yet a seemingly unquenchable thirst for more? It was a contradiction, an impossibility, but it was happening to me. That’s what it was, needing more and being sated at the same time.

Our mouths danced for maybe an hour. My elbow was screaming at me to stop for at least thirty minutes before we did. I turned over on my back, exhausted but in so much pleasure that the world could’ve ended right then and there and I wouldn’t have minded.

I could see the stars between the trees. Lisanda cuddled against me, resting her head on my shoulder. She put her soft hand on the other side of my cheek, turned my face toward hers, and gave me a long kiss on the lips that I figured would be the last one we’d ever share.