Into The Darkness

"He didn't," Cornelu said. That Delfinu had kept him in Tirgoviste because he judged going out to the Barian ports a suicide mission was nothing his wife needed to know. He walked over to Costache, took her in his arms, and gave her a kiss, leaning over the swell of her belly to plant it on her mouth. With a grin, he told her, "I'm glad I'm taller than you are. Other-wise, I'd have to sneak up on you from behind instead of doing this the regular way."

"If you'd sneaked up on me from behind instead of doing it the regu lar way, I wouldn't be expecting now," Costache retorted. Her green eyes sparkled. Now that she wasn't throwing up every morning any more, pregnancy agreed with her. Along with her belly, her cheeks were rounder than they had been. To disguise that a bit, she let her red-gok hair fall straight to her shoulders, where she had worn it piled high on he head.

Cornelu did step behind her. He reached around and cupped he breasts in his hands. They were fuller and rounder than they had beer too. They were also more tender - he had to be careful not to squee2 too hard. When he was careful, they were more sensitive than they h, been; Costache's breath sighed out.

"You see?" Cornelu murmured into her ear. "From behind isn't bad." Having murmured into that ear, he nibbled it.

Costache turned and put her arms around him. "And how are things from in front?" she asked.

Things from in front were fine. In its generosity, the kingdom of Sit had furnished them with two military cots, which they'd pushed together.

With Cornelu and Costache both eager, the cots might have been a fit soft bed at a fancy hostel. Before long, his wife gasped and quiver beneath Cornelu, her belly grew hard and firm as her womb tighten during her spasm of pleasure. Cornelu spent himself a moment later.

He didn't let his weight down on her, as he would have before she was with child. "We won't be able to do it like that much longer," he said, and set a hand on her belly to show why. "Someone in there is getting in the way." As if indignant, the baby kicked. Cornelu and Costache both laughed, as content as any two people could be during wartime.

Pekka was working, and working hard, though no one could ha proved it by looking at her. She sat at the desk in her office at Kajaa City College, staring out the window at the driving rain. Every once a while, her eyes would slip down to the sheets of paper spread across the desk.

Once, as the rain kept drumming down, she reached out, inked a pen and wrote a couple of lines below what was already on the last of the sheets. She didn't look at them again for several minutes. When she did she blinked in surprise, as if someone else's hand, not her own, had do that writing.

Partly recalled to herself, Pekka wondered what the students in h theoretical sorcery class would think if they could see her now. They would probably laugh like loons. Comics had been making jokes about absent-minded mages since the days of the Kaunian Empire. Some of the Kaunian jokes had survived to the present day, and sounded remarkably like their modern equivalent. Some of them had doubtless been ancient in Kaunian times, too.

And then Pekka drifted away again, back into the haze of concentration that was the next thing to a trance. She noticed the rain o as background noise. Somewhere down at the root of things, the laws similarity and contagion were connected. She was morally certain of though wizards had been treating them as separate entities for as long men had been working magic. If she could link them together…

She had no idea what would happen if she could link them to [..ftthe..].

She would know something she hadn't known. She would know some thing no one in the world had ever known. That was enough. That was more than enough.

She scribbled another line. She wasn't close to an answer. She had no idea how long she would need to get close to an answer. She was getting closer to designing a sorcerous experiment that might tell her whether she was on the right track.

Someone knocked on the door. Pekka did her best not to hear. Her best was not good enough. She'd been about to write another line.

Whatever she'd been on the point of setting down vanished from her mind.

Fury roared in to take its place. Kuusamans were as a rule easygoing, especially when set alongside the proud and touchy folk of the kingdoms of Algarvic stock. But every mage had to keep in mind the difference between the rule and the exception.

Spninging to her feet, Pekka dashed to the door and flung it wide.

"What are you doing interrupting me?" she screeched, even before it had opened all the way.

Her husband, fortunately, lived up to the Kuusaman reputation for calm. "I'm sorry, dear," Leino said. His narrow eyes didn't widen; no surprise showed on his broad, high-cheekboned face. He'd seen Pekka burst like a large egg before. "It is time to head home, though."