Hular looked at Sorlin in astonishment. "How did you manage to hear so much?"

"I hid in some bushes near the place where they gather," Sorlin answered with an impish grin. "After all, they must have done the same or they would not have known we are Mother People. Besides, Zena said to discover as much as we could."

"And so you did," Zena answered, amused by her stalwart friend. Still, what Sorlin had heard was discouraging. To change these people again would not be easy!

"If the villagers remember the name of Zena, it can't be too long since they were Mother People," she observed.

Durak nodded. "I believe that Mara's mother was their wise one then. I could feel it when I met her, even though she now looks old and afraid."

Zena nodded, remembering the woman who had traced the spiral sign of wisdom for her to see. She must be Mara's mother, which explained why Mara knew so much of the Goddess. She wished she could ask the woman to tell her more of what had happened here, but she did not dare. As Mara had warned and they had just learned - Korg had ears and eyes everywhere, and unless they were very careful, Mara and her mother would be singled out for punishment.

"But now the villagers have different ways," Hular said thoughtfully, "ways that seem wrong to us. To kill an infant is terrible, but at the same time I can understand why it might be done. Through the death of one child, a child too young to be afraid or understand, many lives could be saved, great suffering avoided."

"We do not know that," Sorlin objected, her tone scathing. "I certainly do not believe bad things will happen unless a child is killed. Even the Mother cannot prevent storms and other disasters, though She often warns us with Her signals so we can prepare. And we cannot avoid all suffering or all difficulties in our lives."

"A child is a gift from the Mother," Durak said slowly, "yet sometimes we help an infant to return to Her if the infant is maimed or suffering and cannot be cured. What is the difference?"

"They are very different," Lief answered in his deep, soft voice. "One is done because of love, the other from fear."

Zena looked at him, impressed once more. Unexpectedly, desire rose inside her, desire so strong that her legs began to tremble. She sat down suddenly, astonished. She had mated only a few times and the experiences had not been very satisfying. She had felt awkward; her body did not seem to know what to do, as if the impulses that seemed to come so easily and naturally to others were absent in her. But now; now she felt as if they must be there. They must be stronger than she had known, too.

Color rose in her face. How could she think of Akat when they were talking of the possible death of a child? And she did not even know this man, had barely spoken to him. Worse, she was almost certain he had seen her face redden and understood the reason.

"You are right," she said quickly, to cover her confusion.

Another thought came to her, driving all thoughts of desire away. "And when this sacrifice is born of fear," she said slowly, "it could build on itself, so that if a storm should come, or another disaster, more children would have to be given, then more and more and more..."

She broke off, shuddering., as pictures of what might happen poured into her mind, of infants and children, some on the brink of adulthood who knew what was about to happen, struggling against their captors. One at a time they were pulled away from their stricken parents, brutally killed so that others could live, but then drought came, or floods or some terrible sickness, and still more had to die...

She closed her eyes tightly to shut out the terrible images but they would not stop, and for a moment she felt faint.

Lief knelt in front of her. "Will you drink this?" he said gently. "It is made from special grains that are fermented, and it will give you strength."

Zena took the tall cup and drank deeply of the warm liquid. "It is good," she said gratefully. "I thank you."

"The people here make it," he explained. "We must learn to make it ourselves. Too much, though, has a strange effect."

"What does it do?" Zena asked, glad to be distracted from her thoughts.

Lief smiled. "It makes people act crazy," he said. "They stumble and fall and cannot think properly." He staggered around the clearing with a comical look on his face, demonstrating. "Sometimes they cannot walk by themselves and must be held up by their friends," he added, and made them all laugh with a vivid description of the three people he had met on his travels to the south. He mentioned only the humor in the situation, not the man's scarred face or the woman's pale eyes or his own sense of unease, lest they upset Zena further.

"Do not give her any more then," Hular joked. "We need Zena to think well right now if she is to save this child."

The remark made them serious again, and Zena answered soberly. "You are right, except that I cannot save the child alone. It is a task for us all. Still, for all of us to go to the village where it is to be born might arouse suspicion. I will go first to see what I can learn while you finish the trading here, though perhaps one of you could come with me, whoever is not needed in the trading."

"I will come with you," Lief said immediately. The determination in his voice was evident to all, and no one argued. Lief was a good choice anyway, since he had come as a guide more than as a trader and would be able to find the village better than any of them.

Sorlin, who loved going to new places, sighed heavily. "I do not think I can come. I must get back to my young ones as soon as the trading is finished."

"Do not worry," Hular assured her. "Durak and I will join Zena and Lief as soon as we are finished here. By that time Zena will know more."

"I hope I do," Zena answered, feeling doubt rise again. She pushed it away and spoke without thinking. "There is a way to prevent this horror from coming to pass," she said forcefully. "We have only to think of it, and then we will know what to do."

The words seemed to have burst out of her from a place she had not known, and she was astonished. So were the others. They had never heard Zena speak in such a forceful way before.

Lief, however, was not surprised. It was as Larak had said: The power is there, waiting to be released. He wondered if Zena heard his thought for she gave him an odd look. Again, their eyes held; then she turned away, frowning a little. Her cheeks were very pink.

Lief smiled to himself. The fire is there, too, Larak had warned. He hoped at least some of it would be directed at him.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

The next day, Lief and Zena set out for the village Mara had mentioned. Lief was pleased that no one had questioned his decision to accompany Zena. He wanted badly to have time alone with her. They still had hardly spoken together, but the few words and looks they had exchanged had told him that they understood each other well. He was also certain now that Zena was as attracted to him as he was to her. The flush in her cheeks and the tautness of her mouth told him that. Still, he must be patient. When the right moment came, he would know.

Zena's voice broke into his thoughts. "I do not know where this village is, only that we must go west to find it," she explained as they climbed the steep slope above Mara's village. Her voice sounded strained and self-conscious even to her own ears, and she was irritated with herself. Whatever was the matter with her?

"I think I know where the village is located, though I have not been there before," Lief answered pleasantly. He wished he could help her relax in his presence, but perhaps that was impossible. The tension between them was fierce and strong and until it found an outlet, it would continue to plague them. The thought made him stiffen with desire.

Zena sensed that he was trying to help her and her irritation at herself increased. She had to stop behaving like a nervous child. Even more, she had to concentrate on the task before her and not let her attraction to Lief distract her.

"I do not know when this child will be born, either, except that it is soon," she went on determinedly. "We are constantly watched, so Mara and I have not been able to speak again."

"I, too, have been watching," Lief answered dryly. He wondered if she was aware that a good part of his watching was devoted to her. Her reply told him she was not.

"I as well," she admitted, "but I think your eyes are sharper than mine. Tell me what you have observed."

"Or I am less watched than you," Lief corrected with a smile. "I have seen that the Leader and Korg are preparing for a journey, perhaps to the same village we seek," he went on more seriously. "I have seen that there is an understanding between them that I cannot grasp, that Korg controls the Leader in some way, even as the Leader seems to be in charge, believes himself to be in charge. What this means, I do not know."

Zena nodded. "I think you are right. It is as if Korg makes it possible for the Leader to speak as he does, to influence the people. But how does he do this?"

"That is what we must discover," Lief answered.

They were quiet then, saving their breath for the steep climb. High peaks tipped with snow rose on either side of them, glittering in the sun; here, in the meadows enclosed by the mountains, the greenness of grass and bushes predominated, and the pervasive scent of flowers. A string of small lakes, milky turquoise from the glaciers that fed them, dotted the slope; above them small swift birds, as blue as the lakes themselves, swooped and darted fearlessly.

When they reached the last lake they stopped to drink, and the water was so cold they had to warm it in their hands before their throats could swallow it. They went on, over the next pass, breathing hard but hardly aware of their exertions, so magnificent was the scene. Zena thought she could go on forever in such a place, where there was so much peace and beauty. She suspected Lief must feel the same, for his eyes roamed ceaselessly over the landscape, and there was a look of total contentment in his face. She felt the contentment come into her as well, and some of the tension left her body.

Another, higher pass loomed ahead. They sat for a moment to rest on the soft moss between the rocks, and watched a huge bird settle on a nearby boulder. Its fierce yellow eyes stared at them, unblinking, as it arched its head to preen its feathers. Then, with a loud rush of wide-swept wings, it took to the air again. Higher and higher it rose, soaring in ever-widening circles until it disappeared from sight.

Zena sighed. "I would like to do that," she commented, "to fly far above the land, to see all that is below me and to soar into the clouds."

"One day perhaps it will be possible," Lief answered, to her surprise. "After all, if a bird can fly, why can we not learn how to do it as well?"

"We have no wings, no feathers," Zena objected.

Lief laughed. "That is true, but even if we did they might not help, as I discovered. Once, when I was a child, I came across a bird like the one we saw. It was dead, and only the wings were left. I attached them to my arms with resin and strong ropes and jumped from a high rock."

"What happened?" she asked him, eager as a child to know. Lief looked at her upturned face. She is all right now, he thought, relieved. He looked a moment longer, wanting to know every curve of her face.

"I fell," he answered, laughing again. "But I still think it might be possible," he added with a serious note in his voice. "I must just understand better how to do it."

Zena smiled, thinking of the small boy with wings attached to his arms. It was an appealing image. "I think you were very brave," she said. "And clever, to think of such a project."

"Just curious," Lief answered. "I have always been curious about everything. Many times, my mother told me she was afraid for me because I was so curious."

"I think it is a good way to be," Zena answered, defending him.

Lief did not answer, but his dark eyes expressed appreciation. Except they were not really dark, Zena saw, looking more closely, but a blue so dark it looked almost black. Nor was his face guarded as it often seemed to be. Was that because he felt at ease with her even if she did not with him?

The desire for him that she had tried to ignore all through the journey returned, even stronger now, and she felt her face flush. She turned away, angry at the fair skin that made her emotions impossible to hide. She always blushed - when she was angry or embarrassed or anything else, and it was annoying!

"We must go," she mumbled, rising to her feet, but Lief did not move. Her discomfiture amused him but he also found it endearing. His fingers itched to caress those flushed cheeks, the slender body, but he held them back. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, but he must be careful, must not rush her.

"There is one way in which we can almost fly," he remarked instead.

"How is that?" Zena asked, glad of the distraction.

"In Akat," he replied. "Sometimes in the act of love, if both people understand each other well, I am told this is possible, though have not experienced it myself." His voice was even deeper than usual, and as soft as a caress.

"Nor have I," Zena answered, her lips stiff as she tightened them to control their trembling. Not looking at him, she reached down for her pack. He had removed his tunic to bask in the sun and the gleam of his bronzed skin caught her eye anyway.

Lief rose in a swift movement and clasped her arm, forcing her to face him. He could see the need on her face; feel her desire palpable against his own even as she struggled to push it away, and a joyous delirium filled him.

"We can do this," he murmured. "For many days now, I have felt that it would be so. And so have you, have you not?"

Zena's eyes flicked up to his for a moment. Did he mean now? Here? "We should go on," she mumbled, but even to her own ears her voice sounded uncertain. His hand felt so warm and the long fingers were so gentle on her wrist...

"Yes, we should, but we need not go right now."

Lief looked into her face, and once again his voice was as soft as a caress. "This is the place for us, Zena, here among the high peaks, where both of us love to be. Did you know I came here for those peaks as well as to know more of you? I could not live away from the mountains and I could not rest until I had found you. Once I had seen you I knew I had to come to you."

"To me?" Her voice was only a whisper.

Lief did not answer, only touched her face with his gentle fingers. The desire was so strong now Zena thought she would burst with it. Her legs shook and she sat down again abruptly, knowing that this time they really would not hold her up any longer. Lief lowered himself to the ground beside her. Every motion he made was graceful, she thought, and wondered at what he had said. Had he really come here for her?

Slipping her garment from her shoulders with a fluid gesture, he drew her against him, reveling at the smoothness of her skin, at the heat that rose between them. She sighed deeply, finally beginning to relax.

"Imagine now that you are a bird," he murmured as he stroked her arms, the length of her body, with delicate fingers, "not a large one that hunts, like the one we just saw, but one of the graceful swallows that darts effortlessly above the fields, the lakes and streams. As my fingers touch your arms, imagine the feathers there, soft and strong, that allow you to fly; as I stroke your body, imagine the wonderful bursting strength that will propel you into the skies. There, you can feel it, can you not, in a secret place deep inside you? Close your eyes as my lips touch them and know that they are the eyes of a bird that sees all as it soars, feel the bird plunge toward the earth as my mouth covers yours, then rise again with the fluttering wing-tips that are your fingers..."

His voice ceased as he took her fingers, one at a time, into his mouth. With his other hand he went on caressing her arms, her breasts and belly and thighs. She groaned, an agonized cry of physical need. She wanted more, much more...

The sound exhilarated Lief, and a desire so fierce he felt burned by it threatened to overwhelm him. Never had he felt like this, never, but he must go slowly, slowly...

He moved his lips to her eyelids, her cheeks and forehead, and then her mouth. A gasp rose inside Zena at the intensity of the passion that rose up between them, but no sound emerged. His lips were too hard, too demanding, too bonded with hers for even a whisper to pass between them. Her mouth clamped down still harder in response. She did not know herself like this. She could not stop her mouth, her body. They pressed against his with frenzied strength; she felt her arms wrap themselves around him, her hands search every part of his straining body.

He could not wait much longer, Lief thought desperately. And then he felt her hips thrust up and out, grinding eagerly toward him over and over again, and he knew he did not need to wait. Almost out of control now, he slid into her welcoming flesh and was fleetingly aware that he had never in all his life known such joy, such utter ecstasy.

For Zena it was the same. Before he came into her she thought for a moment she would stop breathing from the intensity of her need. But when finally she felt him inside her the tension slowly smoothed out and she felt herself rise, held up in some unknown place by a warm mass of sensation deep within her. It was red, filled with fire, yet there was gentleness in it too, as if the fire knew its strength and would not blaze all at once, but slowly gather its forces. Higher still it propelled her, so that she was floating on the ever-expanding mass, and then she was flying above it, soaring and darting effortlessly even as she knew the fire inside her must soon explode and send her plunging toward the ground. And then it did; she felt the mass of sensation burst into fragments, sending its warmth, its blazing energy, into every part of her body, her breasts, her belly and buttocks, even her fingertips and toes. Down and down she spiraled, and then began to rise again as the mass came back together, smaller now, gentler, but still there. Lief felt her spasms and moved with them, and then he was unable to think at all.

She felt his body rise up above her own and then crash down again, saw that he was shaking uncontrollably. His face was strained and the tendons of his neck stood out like great cords. She watched, amazed, then closed her eyes as her body took over again, forcing her to press against him, harder, harder, so that the mass inside her could gather force once more, propel her into the air until the explosion came, then send her fluttering down, this time into the warm gentle calm of satiation.

Lief was limp inside her. He sighed, a great sigh of repletion. He could not move except to pull her even closer, could not speak except to murmur her name over and over again. She pressed her face against his chest, felt the bristly hair there absorb tears she did not know had formed. Satiated and utterly content, she snuggled drowsily against him and closed her eyes. Warmed by the sun, by each other, they slept.

Wind brought by the gathering clouds made Zena shiver. She sat abruptly, aware that a storm was brewing as so often happened toward the end of the day in summer. Pulling her tunic around her shoulders, she looked down at the still-sleeping Lief. His strong features were relaxed now, and his lips were curved into a half smile. She wanted to take him in her arms again, in gratitude, in wonder for what he had done, how he had made her feel, as if she were truly flying. He was part of her now, she realized suddenly, as she was part of him. The thought was joyous.

There should be another kind of Akat, she mused, to describe the experience they had had together. Already, there were many types: Akate, which was fast and lustful, Akato, playful and full of laughter, and Akatele, a very tender kind of mating. There was Akatelo, slow and sensual, and Akatalelo, which was spiritual and close to the Mother. Perhaps she could call this new kind Akatolevo, Akat that flies.

"Akatolevo," she murmured, trying out the word to see how it sounded. Then she frowned. Had Lief felt this too? Perhaps she had not been able to do for him what he had done for her.

He opened his eyes and looked at her, and she knew immediately that he had. His gaze was languorous, full of love. His words gave confirmation. "We can fly together, just as I said," he told her softly, pulling himself up to sit beside her.

She took his hand and they sat in silence, totally at ease with each other now and feeling no need to speak, until the strengthening wind drove them to their feet. The storm was moving fast, Zena realized. They must leave the high ridges.

"I can smell it," Lief said, as if she had spoken.

Zena nodded. "We should get down as quickly as we can."

Lief took her hand and held it firmly as they hurried over the next pass and down the rocky slope beyond it, skipping from one foothold to the next, legs tensed, bodies balanced precisely, inebriated with the joy of their delight in each other.

Half-way down, rain hit their shoulders, and just as they reached the valley floor, thunder rumbled behind them. They darted into the woods, looking for shelter of some kind, and to their surprise heard the sound of laughter. Following the sound, they came to a small hut. Inside, they heard women's voices, and again the laughter.

"Their Ekali," Zena whispered, abruptly remembering her mission. "This must be their Ekali, the women's place. Perhaps I can take shelter from the storm with them. Then I can try to learn more about the young woman who will give birth.

"But what of you?" she asked, anguished at the thought of leaving him at all, and especially leaving him in his cold, driving rain.

"I will find a thick tree to shelter me," he promised. "You must take advantage of this opportunity." Smiling, he gave her a gentle push toward the shelter.

Reluctantly, she nodded, but went first to wash herself in a small stream. She would not give her name, she decided. She would just ask if she could rest until the storm passed - and ask a lot of questions, see if they would talk.

The women's chatter stopped abruptly when she appeared. "I am sorry to intrude," Zena apologized, "but I hoped I could take shelter here from the storm."

"You are welcome here," an older woman said.

"Thank you. I have been traveling for many days," Zena explained, "and will be glad to rest for a time."

A girl, hardly old enough for her first bleeding, Zena thought, watched her with curious eyes. "Where do you come from?" she asked, her voice eager.

"From a valley to the east," Zena answered. "But before that I came from the sea, far to the south."

Reaching into her pack, she brought out a large shell in shades of smoky blue and pink, and some small pink ones with glossy curved surfaces, and handed them to the girl. "Here are shells from that place. You may have them."

The girl's face lit up. "I thank you. They are beautiful!"