follow the current down."
He closed his eyes and began to breathe, to slow his heart and calm the heated rushing of his blood. The touch of her hand was oddly pleasant, light now and quiet, with none of the twitches untrained people tended to betray. Without being told, she matched her breathing to his own. In and hold. Out and rest. He slipped quickly into the state he sought, enjoying for a moment the familiar sensation of weightless peace. He was more than Martin now, and less. He was, at least in part, the simple spirit Martin hid.
Before his sense of self could dissolve completely, he drew up a skein of force, slowly, letting Luisa see how it was done, letting her feel the gradual brightening of the spinning tsakhor above his heart.
There, he said, sensing he did not need to speak aloud, now I shall send the energy through the channels of my subtle body.
She shivered as he began. "Oh," she whispered, "I feel it."
She stepped instinctively closer, her thighs and belly brushing the woven folds of his robe. It seemed natural to wrap her lightly in his arms, to slide his hand into the small of her silk-draped back. Her temple nestled easily beside his jaw. Though he had witnessed the act of love, he had never held a woman. She was soft, a yielding pleasure to the touch. His arousal returned as calmly as a dream. The energy he had drawn from the earth fed its intensity, though its progress seemed honey slow. Hungry for more, he nuzzled her shell-like ear.
"Follow," he murmured, "follow where I go."
Her body pressed his, her free hand raking languorously up his skull. Sparks seemed to rustle through the shortness of his hair. She had been cool but now she warmed, reminding him this was no ordinary woman. No doubt her flesh followed strange rules of its own. When she rose onto her toes, the tips of her breasts matched his. The change in position made a place for his erection between her thighs. His skin tightened, his organ struggling against its own pounding weight. He longed to press her more closely, longed to slip his ache inside her hidden warmth. Even through their clothes he could feel her softness.
But this was not where his mind was supposed to go. He forced it back to the demonstration. "Do you see?" he said. "Do you feel the current flow?"
She shuddered as if she, too, had to pull herself from the brink.
"I see," she said, "but I don't see how."
He tried to explain, in word and deed, but could not make her comprehend. Control she had in overflowing measure. She could regulate her breathing and her pulse as well as the most masterful yogin. What she could not do was change her state of mind. Nor could he feed energy into her himself. When he tried, it flowed around her aura like a stream of water around an egg. She seemed, as far as he could tell, utterly impermeable.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I simply do not understand."
He drew breath to try again, then let his hold fall away. Luisa stepped back as he did. They stared at each other. At once, he missed her body's warmth. As if she felt the same, she hugged her upper arms. Her breasts swelled into the neckline of her shift, beautiful in a different way now that his trance had begun to fade. His too-worldly organ pounded in complaint.
"I am sorry," he said. "Perhaps my concentration was not complete."
Her laugh was low and sweet. "If your concentration had been complete, I would have been insulted."
He could not resist smiling back, at least for a moment. "I will consult my guide. He may have another idea."
"We could try this again."
Her eyes sparkled with teasing like a glacier in the sun. He knew better than to meet their temptation long. Touching her, and having her touch him—for however laudable a purpose—had strengthened her carnal tug. He knew how it felt to hold her, and he wanted that feeling again.
"I should escort you to your room," he said. "Dawn is near. I know
He closed his eyes and began to breathe, to slow his heart and calm the heated rushing of his blood. The touch of her hand was oddly pleasant, light now and quiet, with none of the twitches untrained people tended to betray. Without being told, she matched her breathing to his own. In and hold. Out and rest. He slipped quickly into the state he sought, enjoying for a moment the familiar sensation of weightless peace. He was more than Martin now, and less. He was, at least in part, the simple spirit Martin hid.
Before his sense of self could dissolve completely, he drew up a skein of force, slowly, letting Luisa see how it was done, letting her feel the gradual brightening of the spinning tsakhor above his heart.
There, he said, sensing he did not need to speak aloud, now I shall send the energy through the channels of my subtle body.
She shivered as he began. "Oh," she whispered, "I feel it."
She stepped instinctively closer, her thighs and belly brushing the woven folds of his robe. It seemed natural to wrap her lightly in his arms, to slide his hand into the small of her silk-draped back. Her temple nestled easily beside his jaw. Though he had witnessed the act of love, he had never held a woman. She was soft, a yielding pleasure to the touch. His arousal returned as calmly as a dream. The energy he had drawn from the earth fed its intensity, though its progress seemed honey slow. Hungry for more, he nuzzled her shell-like ear.
"Follow," he murmured, "follow where I go."
Her body pressed his, her free hand raking languorously up his skull. Sparks seemed to rustle through the shortness of his hair. She had been cool but now she warmed, reminding him this was no ordinary woman. No doubt her flesh followed strange rules of its own. When she rose onto her toes, the tips of her breasts matched his. The change in position made a place for his erection between her thighs. His skin tightened, his organ struggling against its own pounding weight. He longed to press her more closely, longed to slip his ache inside her hidden warmth. Even through their clothes he could feel her softness.
But this was not where his mind was supposed to go. He forced it back to the demonstration. "Do you see?" he said. "Do you feel the current flow?"
She shuddered as if she, too, had to pull herself from the brink.
"I see," she said, "but I don't see how."
He tried to explain, in word and deed, but could not make her comprehend. Control she had in overflowing measure. She could regulate her breathing and her pulse as well as the most masterful yogin. What she could not do was change her state of mind. Nor could he feed energy into her himself. When he tried, it flowed around her aura like a stream of water around an egg. She seemed, as far as he could tell, utterly impermeable.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I simply do not understand."
He drew breath to try again, then let his hold fall away. Luisa stepped back as he did. They stared at each other. At once, he missed her body's warmth. As if she felt the same, she hugged her upper arms. Her breasts swelled into the neckline of her shift, beautiful in a different way now that his trance had begun to fade. His too-worldly organ pounded in complaint.
"I am sorry," he said. "Perhaps my concentration was not complete."
Her laugh was low and sweet. "If your concentration had been complete, I would have been insulted."
He could not resist smiling back, at least for a moment. "I will consult my guide. He may have another idea."
"We could try this again."
Her eyes sparkled with teasing like a glacier in the sun. He knew better than to meet their temptation long. Touching her, and having her touch him—for however laudable a purpose—had strengthened her carnal tug. He knew how it felt to hold her, and he wanted that feeling again.
"I should escort you to your room," he said. "Dawn is near. I know
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