He rolled off of her slowly, staring at her. “What — what happened to your cheek? Did I do that to you?”
She lifted a hand to the smudged yellow remains of the bruise, nodded.
He got up from the bed, his face pale and expressionless, went toward his reflection waiting impassively in the wall. Their hands met at the interface; he pressed his forehead against its image, and Moon saw his body tighten like a coiled spring.
“Sparks—”
His hands turned into fists, and he smashed them into the mirror; sent his reflection clamoring down in a hail of splintered ice. He backed away, turned… she saw blood trickling down his hand like zigzag lightning.
She pushed herself up and went to him, closing his hand in hers, staunching the wound. j
“No, don’t!” he cried. “Leave it, let it bleed!” eagerly, almost joyfully. She looked up at him, sickened, but he shook his head. , “Don’t you see? I’m alive! I’m alive, Moon…” He made a sound : that was like laughter, but wasn’t. She saw his eyes become the color I of emeralds; and tears overflowed with the flicker of the lids. He , raised his wet hand to his wet face. “Moon. My Moon.” His arms i went around her again; but this time there was nothing hurting about his embrace except the pain of rebirth and release. “Alive. Alive again…” i
She felt sudden fire pass into her through her skin and kindle at his nearness. She reached up to unfasten her cloak, let it fall, press — I ing herself even closer. Her fingers found the slashes of his shirt; she felt his flesh, warm and smooth, his muscles sliding under her touch. His own hands slipped down along her sides, rose again, tracing the line of her back. He began to lead her to the bed, moving with her, drawing her down beside him on the cool sheets, this time with j infinite tenderness. “No, let me… just let me…” He kissed her I softly. He slipped her dress down over her shoulders, along her body ‘ to the floor, with hands that sang against her skin. He removed his own clothes, self-consciously; she tried not to see the scars on his body.
They lay back together, and now looking up she saw nothing but , the moment reflected, and her heart’s desire. They began to touch f each other again; slowly, almost shyly, rediscovering the secret joys that had been theirs in Summer, Time began to spiral toward infinity, and her body became the source point of the universe as he brought every part of his own body to the realization of her pleas’ ure. He took her to the brink of ecstasy with a skill that had never I been his before, holding her there, circling in the ah-… with a motion letting her fall in glorious flames, to rise again like a phoenix . again and again. Swept out beyond the depths of her anticipation lost in time, she answered him as best she could, murmuring ‘ the breathless love words that could not tell him enough about her ytk joy, filling her own instinctive response with the passionate energy of her pent-up longing set free. And at last they fell together, consumed in fire; lay as soft as ashes in each other’s arms. Complete in their love, complete in each other, they slept.
42
“Moon… Moon, wake up.”
Moon sighed, dreaming in the warm embers. “Not yet.” She kept her eyes closed, half-afraid to open them.
“Yes. You have to.” Spark’s voice stirred her gently, insistently. “We can’t stay here much longer. The reception will be over soon. We’ve got to leave the palace before Arienrhod comes looking for me.” Fear closed the words in. “But the police are looking for me too.”
“I know.” She nodded. “We’ll find a place where you can stay until after the Change.”
“The Change!” He turned rigid under her hand. “Oh, my gods . oh, my Lady!” He sat up, his fists clenched.
“What is it?” Moon sat up beside him, abruptly awake, and afraid.
He faced her, pale with anguish. “There won’t be any Change, if Arienrhod has her way. She’s going to start a plague that’ll kill most of the Summers here in the city.”
Moon shook her head. “How? Why?”
“She’s hired an off worlder to do it, a man called the Source. He does a lot of her dirty work; he even had the old Commander of Police poisoned. I paid him today with the water of life.” He bit his lips. “She wants to stay Queen, and keep Winter here forever; that’s why!”
Moon shut her eyes, concentrating on the enormity of horror so that she would not see his hand in it. “We’ve got to stop it!”
“I know.” He threw the covers back. “Go to the Blues, Moon, and tell them everything. They can stop it, if it isn’t too late al ready.” He twisted the covers between his hands. “Mother’s Eyes! How could
I—?”
Moon felt panic clog her throat as she remembered why she could not go to them either. “Sparks, I’ve been off world And they know that, too.”
He looked up sharply. “They’ll deport you.”
She nodded, pushing back her hair. “But they have to be told.”
“Then we’ll both go. Maybe… they’ll let us stay together.” He let his hand fall along her back.
She felt her skin turn to gooseflesh. “Yes.” She pushed herself up and off the bed, knowing that if she hesitated she would never be able to separate herself from him again. “We’d better go now.” She remembered abruptly that BZ would be waiting; she closed her eyes again, blotting out their reflections.
They dressed in silence and left the mirrored chamber; she glanced back one last time through the closing door, as the mirror light winked out. They moved along the empty corridor quickly and still silently, in their silence discovering that the reception hall below had grown dim and silent, too. She watched Sparks’s face turn tense and furtive. “Sparks — remember that we belong here!” She pulled her hood up, half covering the rum of her disheveled hairdo, and made her movements regal.
He looked at her. He nodded, but his expression was equally troubled. They went on down the stairs, slipping unobtrusively past the reception hall where weary servants circled, clearing away the remains of the banquet. They reached the Hall of the Winds at last, shadowy and moaning as she remembered it, with the ghost ships eternally adrift.
“How did you cross the Pit?” He whispered it, and she could not help whispering her answer.
“With this.” She held up her wrist, letting him see the control box.
He started. “Only Arienrhod—”
“Herne. Herne showed me how to use it.”
“Herne?” Disbelief. “How?”
She shook her head. “I’ll tell you — everything, later.” The memory of the calling spell as she crossed the bridge came back to her vividly. “Just help me cross back now… don’t let me stop, whatever happens.” She took a deep breath.
“I
“All right.” Worry touched his dim face again, without any understanding of why she was afraid.
They started toward the lip of the Pit, toward the bridge. Moon felt the Sea breathe, cold and damp against her flushed face; raised her hand to press the first tone of the calming sequence. But Sparks turned back, for one last look into the dark past. She reached out, her doubt quickening as he turned.
And then the rattling air filled with light, the hall was transformed. They shrank together, blinking, uncomprehending; shielded their eyes.
They were not alone. “Arienrhod!” Sparks gasped. Moon saw a woman standing where they had stood at the entrance to the hall, around her a gathering of richly dressed nobles — and palace guards. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw more figures waiting across the bridge.
The Queen. The woman Sparks had named Arienrhod came toward them slowly; slowly coming into focus. Moon saw the hair, milk white like her own, twisted into an elaborate sculpture and crowned with a diadem… saw Arienrhod’s face — her own face, as though she were moving into her own reflection. “It’s true…”