Free Kissed by Starlight by Cynthia Bailey Pratt Page A

middle, as the feathers in the center were weak and would leave her floundering if an emergency were ever to arise in the night. How wonderful to pull the curtains close, lay her cheek on the soft caress of the pillow, and drift away.
    The counterpane, turned back in a double bend over her chest, seemed a trifle heavier than usual. She rolled onto her side and felt a definite draft, warm and slightly scented with herbs. Felicia knew before she opened her eyes what she would see. She tried to throw off the counterpane and spring from the bed, but found herself sinking into the middle of the feathers instead. Wallowing feebly, she only sank deeper.
    “Pray don’t scream!” he said quickly.
    “I’ll scream if I want!” she said, and took a deep breath. But she couldn’t. She’d never been able to. Clarice had a piercing shriek which she let go on every occasion from delight at a piece of candy to horror at the prospect of a bath. But Felicia only went rigid when a scream would have been useful.
    “Pray don’t,” Blaic said, and smiled at her. “No one will hear you but me, and my hearing is delicate.”
    He still had his arm draped over her. His head was propped up on his other hand and he stared down with those deep green eyes. Felicia stopped wriggling. “What do you want?”
    “That’s the first time you’ve asked me that. You asked ‘Who are you?’ and ‘What are you?’ But never ‘What do you want?”
    “Are you going to tell me?”
    “I want to help you.”
    “Why?”
    His smile became wider. Felicia discovered that she did not trust him when he smiled. It seemed out of character.
    He said, “I want to prove to you that I am who and what I say I am. You have done me a great service. Do you know how long I was entombed? Not quite six hundred and fifty of your years.”
    “Six hundred ... oh? How interesting ...”
    “Still you don’t believe? I’ve never had so much trouble before.”
    “You used to spend a lot of your time in the twelfth century helping girls?”
    “Very little of it, actually. I’ve never been fond of humans.”
    “You haven’t? And I have the very great good fortune to be the one to change your opinion.” She made a galvanic effort to free herself from the welter of blankets and the weight of his arm. He was as strong as she imagined, and her own strength was sapped by her illness.
    Blaic shook his head in wonder. “I still think you are a singularly foolish race. How much time you waste of your short lives. We of the Living Lands make every instant count, though we have an infinite number of them.”
    “Then losing a mere six hundred and fifty years shouldn’t trouble you. That being so, I absolve you of all feeling of obligation. Kindly go now.”
    In the shadows, she saw him shake his head again. “I still feel an obligation.”
    “Then serve me by removing yourself from my bed. You put me in a most troubling position. If anyone found you ...”
    “Who should? All in this house sleep under my will. When I withdraw it, they shall wake. In the meantime, no one will disturb us.”
    “Surprisingly enough, that thought does not reassure me.”
    Slowly, Blaic withdrew his arm. “You have nothing to fear from me. I won’t touch you.”
    “I didn’t think it,” Felicia said—perhaps too quickly. He had a face that a woman instantly responded to, yet in the near-darkness of her bed it was not his face that made her insides quiver. Something about his nearness, the weight of his arm across her midriff made her feel all breathless... She did not want to explore that feeling any more closely.
    “I can’t touch you,” Blaic said as she rolled out of bed. “Nor must you touch me. If we touch, by our Ancient Law—”
    She interrupted as she struggled into her robe. “You said something about that before, the first time we met. When you carried me up here.”
    “Yes. I must serve you. Any of the People must serve the mortal that touches them.”
    “Why?”
    “It