“Liiset suggested I come.”
“Suggested? Or ordered?”
“Suggested. She is not Sarkia or Idri.”
Her aura showed no sign of lying. I could feel old junior swelling, and found myself stepping back, letting her in. I watched my hand close the door behind her, turn the latch and set the bolt.
“I was glad to,” she went on. “Wanted to. You are a very attractive man, Macurdy. Compelling.” She stepped out of her robe then, nekkit as could be, and twice as pretty.
“Well then,” I said, and peeled off my nightshirt. We put our arms around each other and kissed, then kissed some more, warm and wet. She felt good, awfully good, pressed up against me. After a minute we went to bed, and I drew the bed curtains.
After a while we got up and washed. “You are a very nice lover, Macurdy,” she said. “But why did you draw the curtains?”
That kind of surprised me. “To keep the warmth in,” I told her.
“I thought so. Are you unable to keep yourself warm with the mind?”
“Warm with the mind?”
According to her it was simple enough; most folks with much talent could learn. “It’s limited, unfortunately,” she went on. “It simply increases the rate at which the body creates heat from the food you eat, and circulates that heat. You can even concentrate it into your fingers and toes. It doesn’t suffice for severe weather, though. Had you been unclothed and outside in the bitter weather recently, you’d soon have felt cold, and after a time would have frozen.” She looked at me as if considering something. “There is another, very superior technique requiring more talent, but it takes careful training. As in fire starting, you do it by drawing heat from the Web of the World. The difficulty lies in control; you can easily and quickly injure or kill yourself with it. I can train you to use it safely, if you’d like.”
“How long would it take?”
“Two or three days, perhaps. Or a week.”
My glands were telling me, “Say yes, Macurdy, you fool,” but I heard my mouth saying: “Omara, that’s something I’d like to learn, and you’re the one I’d like to learn it from, but—” I shrugged. “I want to go home to Farside. It feels to me like it’s what I need to do, what I’m supposed to do. And if I don’t go now, I may not ever.”
“I understand,” she said, and I think she really did.
She stayed awhile, to teach me the technique for warming the body from inside, and for me there wasn’t any trick to that one at all. Then we got friendly again, and after that she put her robe back on and left.
Just for the heck of it, I left my nightshirt off and slept on top the covers that night, warm as toast. The only thing was, at breakfast next morning, with Wollerda and Liiset, I ate about twice as much as usual.
43: Vulkan
After breakfast I said goodbye to folks. A little bit dishonestly, letting them think I’d be going from the farm to Ferny Cove, in case Sarkia got ideas. Then I drove Socks and the buggy back to the farm, where I packed stuff to take with me—not very much—and went over things with the foreman and steward. I spent the night in our old bedroom; had a little spate of grief, but it passed. Then, early the next morning, rode north on Hog to the Valley Highway and headed west, taking neither remount nor pack horse. Just some silver so I could sleep at inns, and some gold coins about the size of double eagles to use on Farside, and to pay Arbel for the training I wanted. Being alone, and not caring to sit around a potroom in the evening, I generally rode late. If I didn’t come to an inn, I slept in a barn. I didn’t trouble to count the days.
The house looked like it had when I’d left Wolf Springs. Lamplight shone through the cracks between the shutters, and thin smoke rose from three of the chimneys, flattening out above the roof in a layer that by moonlight looked like cotton gauze. Getting down off Hog, I knocked at the door.