Free No Return by Zachary Jernigan Page B

shift in Adrash himself, and finding someone who can explain the god’s mind is not possible. We will have as much luck listening to seers proclaim doom in Vaces Square as we will have listening to the responses of the general academy.”
    She fought the temptation to concede the point. Perhaps unavoidably, he had absorbed a great deal of her cynicism. At the same time, he had not yet come to grasp the reality of academy politics: Concessions had to be made in order to achieve one’s goals.
    “We need funding for further research,” she said. “And the best way to acquire funds is to reveal a problem that must be solved.”
    “If you have already decided, why am I here?”
    She touched his hand lightly. “I agree with you that Adrash’s will cannot be known unless he himself announces it. I also do not want to assume the changes reflect hostility, but we must assume they do. Thus, the only thing we can change is our approach to Adrash. Before the noise of the academy’s panic fills my head, I want to discuss this fact. Speak freely.”
    A smile just touched the corners of Pol’s mouth. He had always spoken freely.
    “We must be more aggressive in our supplication.”
    She waited, but he had said all he intended to say.
    “I disagree,” she said.
    They nodded to one another, expressions blank. It had been a year since they had last discussed their positions. She had hoped his would change over time, but it was only hope. In truth, her intention in talking with him had not been to exchange views, but to inform him of the decision she had already made. That she, Captain of the Royal Outbound Mages, needed to talk around the issue instead of dealing with it directly angered her.
    Fortunately, he could read her quite well.
    He sighed. “Tell me what plan you have concocted.”
    ‡
    After Pol left, Ebn squirted a solution of reconstituted elder semen and menstrual fluid into her womb. Five hours later, she had nearly reached the end of her spell-casting.
    Naked, knees spread to the noon sun, she reclined on a chaise a servant had carried onto the balcony. At the juncture of her long, slender thighs, the fingers of her right hand caressed a blood-red flower. She moaned softly, in time to the waves of pleasure spreading through her body. The muscles of her stomach bunched and released. Her buttocks lifted from the cushion, fell back.
    No one could see her from the apartments above, for she had erected a visibility barrier.
    Her skin was the exact color and texture of eggplant, and far hotter to the touch than a human’s. Veins slightly darker than her skin, nearly black, spiderwebbed and branched over the sinuous lines of her body, which was hard and angular. Like most eldermen, her mouth was small, her teeth sharp. Unlike most eldermen, her eyes were emerald rather than amber, her hair just a shade lighter than black. Her variation was not as extreme as Pol’s, but it did cause the occasional second glance.
    Many thought her quite beautiful.
    She closed her eyes. The sunlight caught and refracted in the fine transparent down that covered her body, causing her skin to shimmer as though it were wet. She did not in fact sweat, and like a desert cat avoided touching water to her skin.
    Her moans became louder as she neared orgasm, and her hand descended so that it lay flat against her clitoris. The tongue in the center of her palm lapped hungrily, and she began to gasp. Her left hand, encased as it nearly always was in a black glove, rose from the cushion. She bit a clawtip, pulled the glove off, and spat it to the floor. The tongue in this palm emerged and began licking her left nipple. The small, toothless mouth it had emerged from suckled but made no noise. The tendons of her neck stood out. A sliver of emerald flashed from behind her eyelids and disappeared. As the pleasure increased, her hips rose from the chaise completely.
    A line of clear fluid dripped from underneath her right hand and fell on the cushion, where