Pilgrim. Sara Douglass
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has been a rare long time since I’ve had you to myself,” StarDrifter said, and Zenith smiled softly again, and replied without looking at him.
“Have you recovered your Enchanter powers then, StarDrifter, to read my mind so?”
StarDrifter did not reply immediately. He stared down at his fruit and bread, turning a crust over and over in one hand.
“And I find,” he said, very hesitatingly, but encouraged by her response, “that I do so very much enjoy this time spent alone with you.”
He looked up. Now Zenith was staring at the food in her hands. Again StarDrifter hesitated, but he was not a man for leaving unsaid that which needed to be shared.
“I also find,” he finally said, “that I resent every moment that I must share you with someone else. Dear gods, Zenith, I adore Faraday, but she trailed so happily — and so damnably consistently! — about after us on the Isle of Mist and Memory that I could have thrown her over the cliff face!”
StarDrifter stopped, wondering if he had said too much. But, curse it, it needed to be said! And so, having come this far, StarDrifter leapt over the cliff himself.
“It is the SunSoar curse that our blood calls out so boldly for each other,” he said. “But I find it no burden, and no curse, to love you as I do.”
There, it was said.
“StarDrifter —”
“Let me say one more thing,” he said, in gentler tones. “I know WolfStar hurt you, and that the introduction to love you suffered at his hands has likely scarred you for life. But —”
“Now is not the time to be talking of this,” Zenith said. Her voice was very brittle.
StarDrifter raised an eyebrow. “Now, in this gentle companionship under the trees, is not the time to be speaking of ‘this’?”
She looked at him steadily. “The TimeKeeper Demons are tearing this land apart. Surely there are more important things we should be —”
“Don’t evade me, Zenith.”
Zenith’s eyes filled with sudden tears, and she jerked her gaze away from StarDrifter’s face.
“Zenith …” StarDrifter reached over, took the now damp and useless food from Zenith’s hands, put it to one side, and clasped her hands very gently in his own. “Please, talk to me.”
She took a deep breath. StarDrifter had been courageous enough to speak of the bond that both knew had been developing between them, and she knew she should be as well. “RiverStar … RiverStar always chided me for not taking a lover. She said it was not the SunSoar way.”
StarDrifter grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with undemanding humour. “She was right.”
Zenith allowed herself to be reassured by his grin, and half-smiled herself. “I always told her I wanted to wait for the right man, she always said it was mother’s Acharite primness showing through.”
Maybe RiverStar was right, StarDrifter thought. And maybe it was just that Azhure, like Zenith, had preferred to wait until she found the man she loved.
“I wish,” Zenith’s smile faded, “I wish that I had succumbed to the blandishments of some Icarii Strike Leader, or Enchanter, during those wild Beltide nights that I spent watching from beneath the safety of the trees. I wish that I had, because then I would not have been left with WolfStar as my only memory of love!”
“Shush,” StarDrifter said, disturbed by the emotion in Zenith’s voice.
Zenith took another deep breath, calming herself. “But … but I waited, because I felt that somewhere was the one man that I could love more than any other.”
StarDrifter’s heart was racing. Why would she have said that, unless … unless … “And have you found him yet?”
Zenith stared at StarDrifter, wishing he had not forced this conversation, and yet relieved beyond words that he had. Had she found the man she could love beyond any other? Yes, she had, and she’d known it for a very, very long time. Why else had she been so frantic to know if he’d survived the Demons’ push through the Star Gate?
“Yes,” she whispered.
Strange, StarDrifter thought, strange that I do not feel overwhelming triumph at this moment. Ever before when a woman has looked into my eyes and whispered “yes,” all I have felt was triumph. Now? Relief. Sheer relief.
He leaned forward to kiss her.
Zenith jerked her head away, her eyes round and fearful, and StarDrifter pulled back as if he’d been burned.
“Why let WolfStar ruin your life? Love does not have to be what he showed you. Zenith, do you want WolfStar to colour your perception of love for the rest of your life?”
“No,” she whispered, and StarDrifter nodded slightly.
“Good.” He leaned forward, very, very slowly, giving her every chance to move away if she wanted, and then, having hesitated as long as he was capable, he kissed her.
Zenith tensed as his lips touched hers, but he was so gentle, and so tender, that she forced herself to relax and to accept his kiss. Feeling her muscles lose their rigidity, StarDrifter drew back slightly, his eyes searching Zenith’s face, then he drew her close and kissed her again, this time with more passion, and more insistence.
The kiss of a lover.
Zenith’s initial reaction was absolute immobility. She’d admitted that she loved him, but Zenith still found this sudden metamorphosis of grandfather into lover a profoundly unsettling experience. She was shocked by the warmth and taste of his mouth, a potent mixture of sweetness and maleness, and she was shocked by his insistence.
It reminded her far too much of —
“No!” she said, and pushed him away.
StarDrifter stared at her, remembering himself. Remembering the feel of Azhure in his arms, and the delight of her mouth, when he’d kissed her in the training chamber of Star Finger so many years ago.
She’d pushed him away, too, and he’d acquiesced.
And lost her to Axis.
What would have happened then if he’d insisted?
StarDrifter’s face closed over and he turned away from Zenith. Rape. That’s what would have happened. And whatever else StarDrifter was, and might be capable of, he could not now insist with Zenith. He could not be a WolfStar.
“I’m sorry!” Zenith was crying, feeling the burden of guilt and uselessness. What kind of woman was she? She owed StarDrifter more than this. “I’m sorry! It was just that … just that …”
“Hush,” StarDrifter said, and gathered her into his arms as he would have gathered a child. “Hush. We have time, and I think we have love between us, and I think that we will eventually manage.”
Zenith clung to him, grateful that the lover had transformed (for the moment) back into the protective grandfather. Did she love him? Yes, she did, but nevertheless …
“Just give me time,” she whispered, leaning her head against his chest and letting herself be comforted by the beating of his heart. “I just need time.”
Above her head StarDrifter’s mouth twisted wryly. He was heartily sick of being the understanding grandfather.
Axis sat his horse — a fine roan stallion — and wished he had wings with which to fly. Perhaps he should have taken up StarDrifter’s long ago offer to coax his latent wing buds into growth. Too late now.
He