"Jane S. Fancher - Dance of the Rings 3 - Ring of Destiny" - читать интересную книгу автора (Fancher Jane S)

Prelude

They made love for the first time on a gilt-edged dream
beneath a shadow of doom.
Fingertips extend. Iridescent motes ripple and flow, co-
alesce as skin touches skin, flare as fingers intertwine.
With separation, even death, an imminent probability,
they'd packed a lifetime of experience into one brief night.
Mouths explore, caressing, savoringremembering.
They'd come to know one another that night, to a depth
no poet had ever dared to imagine.
Two Minds brush with a feather's light touch . . .
Her thoughts had smelted of raspberries that night, rasp-
berries dusted with cinnamon and the faintest hint of clove.
. . . then merge into a unified awareness, as two Bodies
become one in the most ancient of mortal dances.
That scentnot truly scent at all, but rather some essen-
tial radiance that bypassed nose and tongue altogether and
plunged straight to his heartthat essence filled him now,
heart, mind, and soul. It was indisputable evidence that she
was truly, impossibly alive and in his arms, and not some
guilt-driven memory come to torment his dreams.
They made love for the second time on a moss-covered
hillside, while a new leythium node blossomed deep in the
earth beneath them.
They were little more than novicesshe a Khoratumin
ringdancer, he with a past as black as the hair on his head
but the love they shared transcended fumbling, uncertain
hands and shyly diverted eyes, and as they merged, one
into the other, experience ceased to have meaning. There
was only...
Need.
Desire.
Joy.
The glittering false dawn of ley-touched mountain air tin-
gled against their skin. Music born of the crystalline web,
steadily evolving in the caves below, filled their minds.
Life emerged in those caverns. The very essence of the
earth gained form under the impact of the unbridled energy
that bathed this instant in time and this tiny spot of earth. It
was energy focused, in part, by the lovers' simple presence.
And as the very ground beneath them surged and re-
ceded with slow undulationas if the mountain itself
breathedthey explored those indescribable places, both
mental and physical, where Self held no meaning.
Where existence was a deluge of . . .
Anticipation...
Sensation...
Consummation.
Release.