"I can't gather its ashes, and go before it to spread them?"
"It would burn your flesh as you crossed, setting it afire. It could be stopped only by cutting off the limb that was burning."
"Oh," she said, aghast.
They watched the fire a moment more. It had encircled them and was burning rapidly inward.
There was a slight wind, but the fire advanced into the wind as well as with it.
"It is conscious," Havoc said. "It knows what it is doing. It likes living flesh when it can catch it."
"And it has caught us," she said, shuddering.
"Negation. It reckons without the power of a Glamor."
"And you are a Glamor," she said, remembering.
"I shall have to carry you across. It can't harm me."
"But then you would be only half as efficient. I would be hindering you instead of helping you."
He nodded. "That may be. I will have to let you watch from a safe place in cool ashes."
"Distress."
"Needless." He picked her up and walked to the line of fire. It was thin, efficiently reducing whatever it encountered to inert ashes behind it. Still, she winced as he strode through it.
He set her down in cool ashes, then got to work. He rapidly scooped ashes into a loose bundle, then dumped them in the brush before the fire. The flames reached that point and halted, seeming nonplussed. They shifted to the sides, trying to find away around it, and in a moment succeeded.
Meanwhile Havoc was gathering more ashes. But the fire was already beyond his first deposit, leaving an island of unburned brush. He had merely slowed it, not stopped it.
"Insight," she called. "This is a two-person project." She ran toward him.
"Caution!" he called back, alarmed.
She stooped to gather an armful of ashes. They came up in an airy mass, sifting past her arms and drifting to the ground. Somehow he had a touch with them that she lacked. Maybe he was using magic. So she took hold of her skirt and used it to scoop ashes in quantity "I must put mine beside yours, while you gather more. Going around the circle."
"Do not let the fire touch you!"
She walked to the fire and tried to dump her ashes beyond it, but instead they came down right on it. And damped it out.
They both stared. "On it," Havoc said. "So it can't circle the ashes. You are a genius."
"Negation," she said, blushing.
"Close enough." He fetched more ashes and dumped them beside hers, extending the damped section.
She ran to fetch more, putting them beside his. There was now a gap in the fire through which she could walk if she chose. She did not; she stayed with the ashes.
Thereafter they worked together, alternating loads of ashes, extending the line. Steadily they doused the fire, and there seemed to be nothing it could do about it. It was no longer pursuing them; they were pursuing it.
At last they completed the outer circle. The inner circle, that had at first surrounded them, had long since closed to a point in the center, run out of fuel, and expired.
Opaline dumped the next to last load, and Havoc dumped the last. The fire was out, leaving only the large patch of destruction in the center.
Wordlessly, they stepped into each other and embraced. They kissed. It was gritty. That was when she realized that they were both almost completely clothed in ashes. "Oh, I'm a sight!" she wailed.
"You are lovely."
"Appreciation," she said, giggling.
"Serious. You found the way that worked, and you did it without stinting. Your appearance of the moment is irrelevant; you are lovely."
"Appreciation," she repeated, this time taking it seriously. To have won his honest favor—that bordered on the ultimate thrill.
"We must wash," he said. "A village would not want us to use its guest house in this state."
"I can't think why!" She was giggling again. She was tired, now that the urgency was gone, and reacting foolishly.
They found a stream and stripped to wash. It was not deep enough for full immersion, so they sat in it and splashed water on each other. "I hate my oath," he said as he doused her bare breasts.
"That's the nicest thing you have said to me."
"Question?"
"Because this time you mean it."
He kissed her again. "This is as far as I can go. Never doubt that you are a complete woman."
"Delight."
Soon their bare skin was clean, but their hair was more difficult. They took turns putting their heads down in the water while the other splashed, rinsed, and scrubbed to get the clinging ashes out. They had to do their pubic regions similarly. They could have done their own, but by mutual consent did each other's. She loved feeling his hands brushing her cleft, and loved making him helplessly erect as she rubbed the base of his penis. It was as close as they could legitimately get to actual sex.
Or was it? "Question: you said that a fifth must satisfy her partner before herself. How is this possible? I mean, could you not stroke me until I—" She paused, blushing. "Climaxed, while you did not?"
"It appears to be partly psychological, partly physical," he said. "You would be unwilling to let me do that."
"But I teased you!"
"And never climaxed yourself. That is the line you can't cross. Men like to be teased to a degree, so you can do that much."
She nodded, seeing it. "Psychological," she agreed. "But how physical?"
"Permission to touch you," he said. She knew he was not referring to the intimate washing. "Granted."
"When you have sex, you will not be able to climax until you feel his ejaculation within you. Mere penetration will not be sufficient, no matter how deep or forceful." He poked his longest finger into her vagina. "You feel me within you."
"I do," she agreed, her vagina involuntarily clenching on his flesh. "Try to climax."
"But I don't want to! Not without your pleasure first."
"Try anyway. I am making a point."
"But—"
"My pleasure is in making this demonstration," he said. "Accept that as given."
Reluctantly she overrode her inclination and focused on the contact. "If you would—would move it," she said.
He thrust with the finger, making it feel like a penis. Her pleasure increased. It reached a certain level, then leveled. It would not go farther. She remained quite turned on, eager for the finish, but unable to achieve it.
"You must feel it spout," he said. "Then you will climax immediately. You are capable of instant vaginal orgasm in a way few women are. But you must feel that liquid first, and know it for seminal fluid."
"Maybe if you—" She couldn't finish, embarrassed.
He read her mind, and used his other hand to stroke her clitoris. Her response accelerated, but again it leveled.
"I can't bring you to orgasm before me," he said.
She continued to try, but he was right. She could not get there without that trigger. "Expletive!"
He withdrew his linger and hand, leaving her pantingly eager for culmination, but he had made his point.
"Physical," he repeated. "I used my finger because I could not have held my penis back, and would have ruined the demonstration."
"Physical," she agreed. It was surely a useful lesson, but she would have given anything to have him lose control and spout into her, releasing her frustrated urgency. Even if it did ruin the demonstration.
"Apology," he murmured.
"Needless. I asked for it." Indeed she had.
"Repetition: I am perhaps as frustrated as you are. I want very much to complete sex with you. But I must not."
"Understanding," she said wryly.
Then they tackled their clothing, rinsing it out as well as they could. "But it will take time to dry," he said. "We will have to use our presentation outfits."