Shadow of the Avatar

Chapter 15 -- Aftershock

In Corwin, they call me 'The Point' because of my accuracy with just about anything, especially daggers or darts. If I'm five paces away with a knife in my hand and the right urge, you'll never make it to me. A sword...now that's another story. Know any good blade teachers...?

--Wren

Glancing around the book lined study, Wren took a step away from Desiray and Cassandra. Corona the dagger, made a gulping sound. For the moment, the mistress had taken her focus off Wren and turned it to Cassandra. The woman's emerald eyes flashed. Nobody told the guildmistress of Corwin what to do.

"No," Desiray growled. "You won't make this decision for me; no, no, and--no." The first mention of 'no' had made the room drop in temperature. The extra negatives only worsened the situation. Neither woman appeared to like the word. Obviously, both were used to getting their way, except of course when it came to each other.

Desiray's lean body vibrated like a plucked bowstring, hands clenched at her sides, teeth gritted and eyes narrow. The pale complexion of her face turned scarlet.

Cassandra stood with arms folded, and face stiff, the stars in her space black eyes flashing like tiny explosions. The gold of her face had lightened until it looked a pale yellow.

The two women stood like statues, gazes locked and bodies tight. How different these two were than the smiling, satisfied images depicted in the portraits on the wall behind them. Wren still didn't understand. How was it that Cassandra could dictate to Desiray? What was their relationship?

Whatever the case, she wasn't going to get involved. Maybe she'd slip away when one of them threw the first punch, or spell, or whatever it was they would do. Both looked angry enough to strangle the other. Oddly, neither woman said another word.

The room had gone silent as a tomb. She couldn't even hear them breathing. After a moment, she felt a tingling then heard muffled voices, not audibly but silently; mindspeak like she experienced with Cassandra. They were sending thoughts at one another with such force that she could pick it up. Corona vibrated in his sheath, making little squeaks as if the volume of their telepathic yells hurt his hearing.

Wren retreated and leaned against a bookshelf, standing near the door should either of them decide to explode. She petted Corona, keeping the weapon calm. Still, it made little bleating sounds whenever Cassandra's face grew particularly stormy.

She was a little disappointed that Cassandra didn't choke Desiray. Seeing that, by itself, would have been worth all the trouble she'd been through. The argument went on for a while, the only movement being to change stance or to emphasize with a hand. She could tell the particularly forceful points when Desiray made little jabbing motions with her finger. Cassandra responded with accusatory points.

"Seems everyone gets mad around you," she murmured to Corona. "You can't keep making me angry like that. It'll get me killed."

A tingle went through her palm. Like a dog lapping its master's hand as an apology for something done wrong. The noises became little whines. Obvious requests for forgiveness.

"All right, just don't do it anymore. Okay?"

The weapon hummed cheerfully and a warmth suffused her body, making her feel strong. At the edges, she felt a tantalizing pulse; unseen fingers trying to touch intimate places.

"Corrr-ona," she whispered. "Stop it, or I'll have Cassandra put you back in that cabinet."

She sensed an embarrassed flush as those invisible fingers were withdrawn. Ishtar, how easy it would be to just let Corona have its way. It felt marvelous. All part of the lure, the way this weapon manipulated its host. If there was pleasure, how far behind might there be pain?