“But you don’t need to do that,” she protested. “Just hold me as you are, Darius!”
“This way is better,” he said, stepping into her, naked. His strong arms closed around her, drawing her in crushingly close. She felt his body growing hot.
“Darius, what are you doing?” she cried.
“I am getting close to you,” he said, bearing her back and down to the ground. His knee wedged against her knees, to force her legs apart.
“But I’m too young for this! You never touch me, because—”
His face came down on hers, stifling her protest with a savage kiss. “It isn’t as if you haven’t had it before,” he said, and shifted position on her.
She tried to push him off, but he was too heavy. She tried to fight him, but he was too strong. Suddenly this man she loved had become a monster, stealing what she would gladly have given him at another time. He was raping her—the one thing she couldn’t stand.
Colene screamed. Her whole energy of fear and loathing went into it.
Then she found herself riding Burgess, yanking at his contact points. It had been a bad dream. As she should have known, because Darius would never try to rape her. It was beside the point that he would never have to.
Nona came to her. “What is it?” she asked solicitously.
“The mind predator—it sent me a bad dream,” Colene said. “I’m sorry I screamed.”
“We are getting closer to my anchor,” Nona said. “There you will be safe.”
“But you don’t want to go there! We were going to pass it by!”
“We won’t stay,” Nona said. “Just long enough to get the mind predator away from you.”
“You’re awful nice,” Colene said, relaxing. “Nicer than me.” She let her gaze go unfocused as she rested her head on Burgess’ central hump. There was an eye stalk near, which turned to check on her every so often. There was a time when that might have freaked her out, but now it was reassuring. As long as she was close to Burgess, the mind predator was held somewhat at bay.
She saw the realities change as they passed through the boundaries. Trees popped in and out of existence, and sometimes animals too. The weather changed from Mode to Mode. One was foggy, so that they proceeded through an almost nightlike opacity. It went on and on, until she realized that they must have turned, and were traveling crosswise, remaining in a single Mode. Why was this?
Or could it be Julia? Could they have passed through Nona’s anchor, and her Mode happened to be foggy, so they had to keep plowing through it? Then Colene was safe, and the mind predator couldn’t get her.
They came to a building, and went in. Inside there were rows of seats. Pews. It was a church! Colene took a seat near the rear, and the rest quickly filled in. Then the service started. There was music: the first gentle strains of the Wedding March.
Colene felt a qualm. What was she doing at a wedding? Who was getting married? There was something wrong about this. But she seemed to be the only one concerned.
Then she saw Darius at the front. He was dressed in a suit and looked unbearably handsome. He was the Bridegroom!
And here was Colene, way back buried in the audience. She wasn’t the one he was marrying.
The music intensified as the Bride appeared. She was escorted by an older man, who reminded Colene oddly of her own father, and she was radiantly beautiful.
Colene forced herself to look at the Bride’s face, knowing who it would be. And it was: Nona. Nona was marrying Darius. Exactly as Colene’s nightmare back in the Earth Mode had showed it. Lovely, sweet, gentle, talented Nona, the ideal bride for any man, especially one who had strong magic of his own.
Women around Colene began to cry. It was something women did at weddings. It was sheer foolishness. But Colene was crying too. Not from any appropriate fancy. She was weeping because she was losing the man she loved. Maybe in time she could have married him, but she was too young while Nona wasn’t. Yet even if Darius had been willing to wait, why would he take Colene when Nona was so much better?
The Bride swept up to the Groom. The music faded. The accompanying people peeled away like the gantry from a rocket about to take off. The man who had walked Nona down the aisle went to sit in the front pew reserved for the Bride’s family, beside a woman who could have been Colene’s mother. Who should have been. This whole wedding should have been Colene’s!
The Ceremony commenced. Colene was too lost in misery to pay attention to the words. All that she might have dreamed of, gone instead to Nona!
Then it was done, and the Groom kissed the Bride. They were the perfect couple, and it was the perfect kiss.
What was left for Colene, except to die?
Colene screamed. This time her whole energy of despair went into it.
She found herself riding Burgess, clinging to the contact points. It had been another bad dream. She should have realized that it wasn’t real, because weddings did not just happen from nowhere. But the dream had carried its own conviction, and she had not questioned it, until the doom of her romance seemed final.
This time it was Darius who came. “Thing’s getting to you?” he asked, concerned.
“It sure is,” she said, trying to smile bravely.
“What is it like?”
She knew he was just trying to divert her from the horror of the mind predator, to make her feel better. But it helped, so she answered. “It made me think you were trying to rape me.”
“I would not do that!” he protested.
“I know. You wouldn’t have to.” She tried to smile, but knew it wasn’t coming off. “Then it made me think you were marrying Nona.”
“No, you are the one I wish to marry. If only—”
“If only I had boundless, renewable joy to give,” she said sadly. “But I don’t, and I never will. Maybe you should marry Nona.”
Now Nona appeared. “What?”
“Maybe you have the kind of joy he needs,” Colene said relentlessly. “I mean, you can do all these other kinds of magic, so why not that? Multiplying joy?” She looked at Darius again. “Why don’t you draw from her, and send it out, the way you do, and see how it is?”
“Colene, I don’t want to marry Darius!” Nona protested. “I respect him as a man, but I respect you too, and I would never—”
But now Colene’s suicidal urge was manifesting. “Go ahead, Darius. Do it. Draw from her, and send it out. See if it’s good.”
“But—” he started, seeming out of sorts.
“Find out,” Colene insisted. “So you know. So we all know. Is she someone you could marry?”
Darius looked at Nona. “I suppose I could check. But you have to understand that this is an unsettling procedure. I take all of a woman’s joy, and then I multiply it and send it out to all present, including her. So she gets most of it back. But never quite all. So that in time she becomes inevitably depleted. That is why I can not marry for love. I have to marry only for joy, and when it is gone I have to divorce her and marry a new one who has not been depleted.”
Nona looked at Colene. “This is not the kind of magic I know. I do not think I would be successful at it.”
“But you don’t know that,” Colene said. “You can’t know until you try it, can you? You didn’t know you could make fireballs, until you tried. So don’t you want to know? You can find out just like that.”
“But what would it prove?” Nona asked.
“It would prove you have the power of joy,” Colene said. “Or that you don’t.”
Nona came to a conclusion. “It would be easier to demonstrate that I lack this power of joy,” she said. “Darius, test me.”
“I see no point in this,” he said.
“Do it,” Colene said grimly.
He looked at Nona, who looked back at him. Both looked at Colene. Then Darius took Nona in his arms and pressed her close in, as close as was possible. It looked like a love embrace. But it wasn’t. How well Colene knew it wasn’t! It was a terrible kind of taking, despite the good that it did for the community, in Darius’ Mode.