her back into the sled. He drove them a few hundred meters to the nearest tower. The moving cataract of light glowed deeper against the night. Zoya fancied the Queen of Light was shaking out a blanket, its folds shimmering like a flaming curtain.
Sleep now, all will be well.
But that was a mistake: to sleep. The land slept. Only a few people walked the earth, engaging its dream time, stalking witches, murdering children. For all its peacefulness, the realm had its nightmares. Time to wake, Zoya thought, Queen Ria or not.
Wolf nudged at her arm. “Best to go in.”
He led her inside the tower, into a cramped stone room. A trapdoor lay open on the floor, and a ladder disappeared into the depths. A rising column of warm air carried the stench of urine and rot.
Zoya strapped her satchel onto her back to free her hands for descending the ladder. She paused before the gaping hole down which the sisters had somehow borne their captive.
“Wolf, I thank you for the ride and your protection.”
For an instant his eyes flicked to meet hers.
“It was a difficult journey,” she said, “but I wouldn’t have you think me ungrateful.” She smiled at him. “Do you?”
He shrugged. “I got a snow witch. And good boots.”
If she was any judge of the man, there was a hint of warmth behind the stark words.
“May those boots carry you safely and far,” she said, smiling.
As to the snow witch, she was less certain.
Turning to climb down into the hole, she saw Wolf secure the tower door, throwing the bolt. Then she descended the ladder into the depths, each step taking her deeper into a thick stew of reeking air.
CHAPTER FIVE
—l—
Solange Arnaud stood in front of the small, gnarled tree. She caressed the needles, brimming with their potion of chlorophyll, the elixir that turned sunlight into energy. So far as she knew, this was the only tree on earth, and the thought of its value, both aesthetically and genetically, thrilled her.
Hands came around Solange from behind, opening her lounging robe, cupping her breasts. “Come back to bed.”
His deep voice stirred her, and she allowed him to lead her back into the bedroom, where, apparently, his needs were rebounding. She was happy to meet them, flattered by his desire, given the difference in their ages. Her own arousal was no small matter, either, though he had satisfied her once. He was a treasure to her, fully as much as the bonsai tree. For all of her cloistered life Solange had kept chaste, until now, until this man proved he could take her into the ways of flesh. Flesh, the uncharted world. She could lay aside her black robes. Lay aside thinking. The pleasure was arresting, but it was transformation she wanted. To leave the self that thought, planned, worried, analyzed. Only someone who had lived within those ordered halls for sixty years could understand the lure of a hidden door. Behind that door, the new land had its own rules and inevitable, sure instructions:
touch here… be still… move now… hold… release…
She had spent her whole life looking for clarity. She hadbegun to wonder if, sadly, it lay only in the body Well, if it did, then she would seek it with this lover.
“Mother Superior,” he said, mockingly, dropping her robe from her shoulders.
“Brother,” she answered, her tone strict.
He guided her onto the bed, not worried about protocols. “How may I serve you?”
She told him. But he had his own ideas, and they were even better than hers. That he disobeyed her was part of their play All so forbidden—although Solange was certainly not the first mother superior to take a lover in this bed. She might well be his first female lover. She hoped she was. The brothers satisfied each other, it couldn’t be helped. But she kept a strict eye on her girls. And the punishments were terrible, of course.
So when he came to her chambers, she was the beneficiary of his rather insistent demands.
It was not strictly ethical. She felt disturbed by
Sleep now, all will be well.
But that was a mistake: to sleep. The land slept. Only a few people walked the earth, engaging its dream time, stalking witches, murdering children. For all its peacefulness, the realm had its nightmares. Time to wake, Zoya thought, Queen Ria or not.
Wolf nudged at her arm. “Best to go in.”
He led her inside the tower, into a cramped stone room. A trapdoor lay open on the floor, and a ladder disappeared into the depths. A rising column of warm air carried the stench of urine and rot.
Zoya strapped her satchel onto her back to free her hands for descending the ladder. She paused before the gaping hole down which the sisters had somehow borne their captive.
“Wolf, I thank you for the ride and your protection.”
For an instant his eyes flicked to meet hers.
“It was a difficult journey,” she said, “but I wouldn’t have you think me ungrateful.” She smiled at him. “Do you?”
He shrugged. “I got a snow witch. And good boots.”
If she was any judge of the man, there was a hint of warmth behind the stark words.
“May those boots carry you safely and far,” she said, smiling.
As to the snow witch, she was less certain.
Turning to climb down into the hole, she saw Wolf secure the tower door, throwing the bolt. Then she descended the ladder into the depths, each step taking her deeper into a thick stew of reeking air.
CHAPTER FIVE
—l—
Solange Arnaud stood in front of the small, gnarled tree. She caressed the needles, brimming with their potion of chlorophyll, the elixir that turned sunlight into energy. So far as she knew, this was the only tree on earth, and the thought of its value, both aesthetically and genetically, thrilled her.
Hands came around Solange from behind, opening her lounging robe, cupping her breasts. “Come back to bed.”
His deep voice stirred her, and she allowed him to lead her back into the bedroom, where, apparently, his needs were rebounding. She was happy to meet them, flattered by his desire, given the difference in their ages. Her own arousal was no small matter, either, though he had satisfied her once. He was a treasure to her, fully as much as the bonsai tree. For all of her cloistered life Solange had kept chaste, until now, until this man proved he could take her into the ways of flesh. Flesh, the uncharted world. She could lay aside her black robes. Lay aside thinking. The pleasure was arresting, but it was transformation she wanted. To leave the self that thought, planned, worried, analyzed. Only someone who had lived within those ordered halls for sixty years could understand the lure of a hidden door. Behind that door, the new land had its own rules and inevitable, sure instructions:
touch here… be still… move now… hold… release…
She had spent her whole life looking for clarity. She hadbegun to wonder if, sadly, it lay only in the body Well, if it did, then she would seek it with this lover.
“Mother Superior,” he said, mockingly, dropping her robe from her shoulders.
“Brother,” she answered, her tone strict.
He guided her onto the bed, not worried about protocols. “How may I serve you?”
She told him. But he had his own ideas, and they were even better than hers. That he disobeyed her was part of their play All so forbidden—although Solange was certainly not the first mother superior to take a lover in this bed. She might well be his first female lover. She hoped she was. The brothers satisfied each other, it couldn’t be helped. But she kept a strict eye on her girls. And the punishments were terrible, of course.
So when he came to her chambers, she was the beneficiary of his rather insistent demands.
It was not strictly ethical. She felt disturbed by
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