The Inheritance Trilogy Omnibus(284)

She uttered a weak, uncertain laugh. “I’d forgotten about that. Kicking you.”

I nodded. “It felt good, didn’t it? You didn’t care that I was a god, that I might get angry and hurt you. You did what you wanted, damn the consequences.”

Yes, at last, the old light was in her eyes. She was older, wiser, she would never do something so foolish today—but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to. The impulse was there, buried but not dead. That was enough.

“Now try it again,” I said. “Do something fun.” I bounced a little on the bed’s soft, springy surface. She yelped and stumbled, trying to get her footing—but she laughed. I grinned, the nausea gone already. “Don’t think! Just do what feels good!”

I jumped, really jumped this time, and the force of my landing nearly threw her off the bed. She shrieked in terror and excitement and sheer giddy release, and finally jumped in self-defense, wobbling badly because my jumping had thrown her off. I laughed and grabbed her and made her jump with me, as high as I could go without using magic. She cried out again when we actually got within arm’s reach of the room’s arched ceiling. Then we came down fast and hard, and something in Deka’s bed groaned in protest and I took us up again and she was laughing, laughing, her face alight, and on impulse I pulled her close and we overbalanced and went sideways and I had to use magic to make sure we landed safely on our backs, but that was fine because suddenly magic was easy again and I felt so good that I laughed and kissed her.

I truly hadn’t meant anything by it. Jumping felt good and laughing felt good and she felt good and kissing her felt good. Her mouth was soft and warm, her breath a tickle against my upper lip. I smiled as I let it end and sat up.

But before I could, her hands gripped the cloth at the back of my shirt, pulling me down again. I started as her mouth found mine again, more delicious sweetness like flower nectar; then her tongue slipped between my lips. Now the sweetness turned to honey, thick and golden, sliding down my throat in a slow caress, spreading molten through my body. She shifted a little to press her small breasts against my chest. (Wait, little girls didn’t have breasts, did they?) Oh, gods, her hands on my back felt so good, I hadn’t liked a mortal this much in ages, could it be the love that Remath schemed for? No, I loved Shahar already, had loved her since childhood, oh yes oh yes oh yes. Exquisite mortal, here is my soul; I want you to know it.

We parted then, her gasping and jerking away, me letting out a slow, trembling sigh.

“Wh-what…” She put a hand to her mouth, her green eyes wide and so clear in the afternoon sunlight that I could count every spoke of her irises. “Sieh, what—”

I cupped her cheek, sighing languidly. “That was me.” I closed my eyes, relaxing into the moment. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

I didn’t feel like explaining, so I didn’t. I just rolled onto my back and let myself drift. Thankfully, she said nothing for a long while, lying still beside me.

Such moments of peace never last, so I didn’t mind when she finally spoke. “It’s your antithesis, isn’t it? Marriage, things like that. Anything to do with adulthood.”

I yawned. “Duh.”

“Just talking about it made you sick.”

“No. Finding out that I’m dying and worrying about my orrery and talking about marriage made me sick. If I’m already strong, a little thing like that can’t hurt me.”

“Your orrery?” I felt the bed shift as she sat up on her elbows, her breath tickling my face.

“Nothing important. It’s gone now.”

“Oh.” She was silent a moment longer. “But how do you keep yourself from thinking about things like dying?”

I opened my eyes. She was on her side now, head propped on her fist. Her hair had come partially loose from its swept-up chignon, and her eyes were softer than I’d ever seen them. She looked thoroughly rumpled and a bit naughty, not at all the poised and controlled family heir.

“How do you keep yourself from thinking about death?” I touched her nose with a fingertip. “You mortals have to live with that fear all the time, don’t you? If you can do it, I can, too.” I would have to, or I would die even sooner. But I did not say this aloud; it would have spoiled the mood.

“I see.” She lifted a hand, hesitated, and then yielded to impulse, resting it on my chest. I couldn’t purr in this form, but I could sigh in pleasure and arch a little beneath her hand, which I did. “So… what was that, just now?”

“Why, Lady Shahar, I believe it’s called a kiss in Senmite. In Teman it’s umishday, and in Oubi it’s—”