She went slow, shifting happily, and a dirty part of her sort of wanted Garr to walk in on her. She’d freak out if he did, probably, but it was just exciting enough a fantasy to get her going.
Her hand slid down her body, to the crux of her thighs, but when the fine hairs on her neck went on-end, she realized she wasn’t alone. She jerked her fingers away, glancing over her shoulder.
It was Sylla, who had wandered into the bedroom on tiny cat’s paws, laying out clothes on the bed. The girl studiously avoided looking up, but was a presence nonetheless.
Moment ruined, Rae hurriedly cranked off the water. The shower responded by billowing warm air from vents at the top and bottom, drying her in mere moments, except for the dampness in her hair.
The lack of a towel made her brisk walk to the bed more awkward, but Sylla flapped open an otoya garment and held it out like a barrier between them. “For you, ma’am.”
“Thanks.” Rae slipped into it. For a moment, the garment hung like a robe, but it transformed as Garr’s had many times before. It felt wet at first, flowing over her skin.
After a long and sensual shower, the feel of it was actually amazing—silken fluid moving across her body, tightening around her bust in a way that gently cupped her breasts more naturally than any bra ever had.
The support was amazing. Below the waist, it transformed into a sarong, and over the bra it melted into a flowing garment that draped perfectly off her curves.
She felt gorgeous, and when she moved around, the fabric around her chest performed micro adjustments that always kept her supported and comfortable. “Someone needs to invent this on Earth right the hell now,” she muttered.
“Is the color to your liking?” Sylla asked.
It was plain white, which was not Rae’s color at all. She considered it. “How about a subdued blue?”
“Touch it here,” Sylla said, motioning to a spot on the sleeve. “Kaython’s microbes interact with the otoya. Imagine what you want and the fabric will try to comply.”
Rae did so, imagining a robin’s egg blue. Her clothing shifted to that color immediately. “How long until I can make it do swords, like Garr’s?”
“Only men do battle,” Sylla whispered.
Something was missing though. Glancing down, she realized it had never produced panties. “Where’s the underwear?”
“Um.” Sylla blushed faintly. “The fabric reacts naturally to our wants and desires. So if a man is attacked, it reflexively forms armor. If a woman is…” She cleared her throat. “Prepared to mate, it won’t… block her.”
Rae’s eyes widened. The otoya thinks I’m horny so it won’t make me panties?
The idea should have angered her, but she realized her arousal still lingered like background radiation. Being stuck sans underwear only heightened it. “Could I get my regular panties back?” she asked.
“They’re in the wash. I’ll have them to you later today,” Sylla assured. “In the meantime, you may practice with the otoya. You can instantly disrobe, dress, or alter it. With some practice, you may be able to override the… underwear feature.” Sylla turned sharply to Rae’s blouse and jacket.
“I managed to get hold of these this morning and they’re clean already. But I noticed something was the matter with the jacket.”
“What’s that?” Rae asked.
Sylla pointed to a smudge on the collar. “This is a grave berry stain. Nearly invisible, but I was meticulous with it. A grave berry has a special scent, only detectable by certain Ythirian predators.”
Rae blinked. “What’s the scent do?”
“Drives predators wild. You’re lucky you were only attacked by one beast. With this on your collar, it’s little wonder. Strange, though. Grave berries don’t usually grow in Lyr.”
Weird, Rae thought, examining the stain. I don’t remember touching any berries on my way through.
Chapter Ten
It turned out Garr had gone hunting. The Skorvag could grow medicine, soap, houses, but apparently not a pork loin. Go figure.
Rae decided it was a good thing, since she needed space to think—to get her bearings, physically and emotionally.
She spent time cataloguing all the amenities the Skorvag could produce from a simple tree, and realized the tree must have housed several nanotech assemblers inside its trunk.
She really wanted to get her hands on a seed from the forest, dissect it, and determine where the plant began and machine ended.
On the second-to-top floor, directly over the kitchen, Rae found a garden packed thick with standing racks of fruits and vegetables sprouting from potting soil. They grew in shelves, drawers, along the floor, dangled from the ceiling overhead, and there was a breathtaking variety of fruits, vegetables, and even grains.