Michaela (47 page)

“He’s not worth me losing even one second with my Nobek,” Michaela declared. Her tone was almost as commanding as Korkla’s. “It was bad enough you not being around when you were in the hospital. Behave or I’m going to make Korkla let me have a go at you with your strap.”

The threat got through Raxstad’s rage. He managed a grin. “Hmm. Now
I’ll
be thinking about
you
all day.”

Genuine laughter erupted. Raxstad wiggled his brows at Michaela, and she planted a kiss on his lips.

She thought that might be the end of their concerns, but she caught Govi still giving her an evaluating gaze. She huffed in exasperation. “Oh, you worrying thing. Look, I’ll spend the day doing something I know will make me feel good. I’ll give myself a hefty dose of retail therapy.”

Korkla fell back on the pillows as if struck by a blow. “Mother of All, save me. She’s going shopping again. It’s a good thing I asked Clajak for a raise in pay.”

Michaela punched his shoulder. “Cut it out. I’m not that bad.”

“I could get a second job,” Govi offered. “Maybe I’ll become a service Imdiko in one of the pleasure clubs.”

Raxstad looked comically glum. “No, that would do no good. I’d end up spending everything you make buying your services.”

The hilarity continued, with all three men musing over the extra work they would have to do to afford Michaela. The teasing became too outlandish for her to take offense. She laughed along with the rest, making her own suggestions.

Michaela felt good in the wake of last night’s lovemaking and this morning’s joking. The nightmare of yesterday seemed far away now. She was more than happy to shunt all thoughts of it aside.

At last Korkla rose, readying to go into work. As he stretched, his nude body making Michaela’s mouth go dry and her cock fill with want, he said, “If you’re going to be out and about, my Matara, there is the matter of planning our official joining ceremony. Why don’t you go to the Temple of Life and speak to a priest about how you’d like it to go?”

Worry nudged at her. “Mmm ... a priest?”

Govi got out of bed, having to climb over the slow-to-move Raxstad to do so. “Don’t sound so hesitant. They won’t be bothered by you being intersex. This is Kalquor, not Earth, remember?”

“I know, I know. I wonder how a holy man will feel about my clanning gown. It’s kind of ... showy.”

Showy didn’t begin to describe the dress she’d chosen back on Plasius for her clanning ceremony. The little bit of fabric that made it up was designed to cling. The few parts Michaela planned to cover up would not require any imagination to know what they looked like.

The men grinned at her sudden chagrin. She knew her unease told them just how revealing her dress was.

Raxstad’s smile was particularly delighted. “Is it that scandalous? Make sure you schedule the ceremony to take place as soon as possible.”

Korkla snickered. “Temple priests are not celibate themselves, my love. Not only that, but they have an amazing capacity for spirited sex. I had an affair with one many, many years ago before clanning these two.”

Govi gave him a narrow-eyed gaze. “Oh did you? I don’t remember this story.”

“Suffice to say, he taught me things that I’ve used to make the rest of you scream.” Korkla’s grin was pure evil.

Raxstad guffawed while nodding his agreement. “Those priests know a thing or two. They have to, to counsel the rest of us in our daily lives. Michaela, we could pronounce our vows naked and humping like ronkas and the priests wouldn’t bat an eye.”

Govi’s smile stretched from ear to ear. “It’s been done before. Just remember, our parent clans will be attending the festivities. Not that you have to hold back on their account though. I guarantee you, they’ve seen it all before.”

Korkla winced. “Yes, I do believe all of our parents have walked in on us in less than dignified circumstances, haven’t they?”

Michaela groaned. “Oh, that would be a hell of an introduction. Hi, Moms. Hi, Dads. Pant, pant, pant, groan.”

The three men burst into uproarious laughter. “Don’t worry, my love,” Korkla assured her through his chuckles. “You’ll meet them before the ceremony, and we’ll try to make sure it’s arranged to make the best possible impression.”

“Then once they’ve gotten to know you, you can give them a show, much as we have in the past,” Raxstad added. “Even though those instances were unintended.”

“Stop, stop,” Govi gasped through chortles. “I can’t breathe. I’m remembering the time my mother came over unannounced and walked into the playroom looking for me. Of course she had no idea we had a playroom, so—”

Whatever he wanted to say was lost in more uncontrollable mirth. Michaela had no idea what Govi’s mom saw her son up to in the playroom, yet she could well imagine given the variety of the clan’s sex toys. The thought alone had her joining in the laughter.

Okay, so maybe she could still be bold during her official clanning rite. With a different dress that covered more. Much more. Michaela thought she would also tone down her original plans for the clanning ceremony just as bit. As fun as an orgasmic ceremony sounded, it probably wasn’t the best route she could take in front of her mates’ parents.

* * * *

The cliffs along the shore ran north to south for about a mile in either direction from Michaela’s home before tapering down to rocky outcroppings about the height of an Earther one-story house. It was in a long stretch of outcroppings to the south that housed the local Temple of Life. It amused Michaela to note the temple was in the opposite direction of the market. She wondered if Korkla had deliberately sent her away from her shopping mecca.

Michaela chose to walk along the pink beach to get there. In the aftermath of what had happened the day before, her head was full of where she could be right now if her and Jessica’s clans hadn’t shown up to save the day. The walk helped to settle her nerves every bit as much as last night’s lovemaking had. The sand beneath her bare feet was as soft as baby powder. The emerald sea on her left hissed and rumbled in gruff but soothing tones. She drew deep breaths of the clean, salt-sea air and enjoyed how the whirling eddies lifted her hair from the nape of her neck. The distant sun played hide-and-seek behind marshmallow fluff clouds.

Michaela knew she was at the Temple of Life when weathered carvings appeared in the rock face. Kalquorians preferred natural settings, so she found it interesting that someone had taken the time in the distant past to sculpt figures of men, women, and animals on the stone. She could tell the carvings had once been quite detailed; in some places where the wind could not blow scouring sand so easily, those details announced themselves. The image of a fish-like creature tucked into a crevice still sported scales.

Michaela was so taken with the intricate carvings that she yelped in surprise when a live man stood before her, framed by an open arch dug into the rock. The robed man brought his hands up, fingers splayed wide, as if to show he was no threat.

“My apologies, Matara. I did not mean to startle you.” Nevertheless, there was a twinkle in his purple eyes and a slight smile creased his cheeks. Her reaction had amused him.

“My fault. I was too busy sightseeing to notice you standing there until we were face to face.” Michaela’s skin burned with embarrassment.

The man bowed, still smiling. His ankle-length hair, a curtain of black except for where it was braided at his temples, swung forward. “I recognize you. Allow me to express my delight in meeting you, Matara Michaela. I am the priest you spoke to on the com earlier.”

Michaela returned the bow, though she knew most Kalquorian men didn’t expect women to offer such a greeting. She found it impossible to not show instant respect to someone who wore the title of priest. “Master Imold, I hope I have not kept you waiting.”

“Not at all. You are early, in fact. I have just come out to greet your arrival.”

The Imdiko appeared to be around the same age as Michaela’s clanmates. He possessed the same natural muscularity of most Kalquorians, with a long, streamlined frame. His smile was a merry thing, something Michaela hadn’t expected to see from someone who pursued holy endeavors.

Imold ushered her into the archway, which led into a large unadorned hall inside the rock. Sand sat about in drifts, and the roughly hewn granite echoed their footsteps as she ventured into its cool environs.

The temple master gestured to the leftmost of three arched doorways that led further within the ground. “We will go into my consultation chamber. There I’ll be able to offer you comfortable seating and refreshment.”

“Thank you.”

Michaela thought she should feel guarded with this stranger who led her into unknown spaces. Yet there was a sense of joy about Imold that also possessed an aura of tranquility. He was robed in three colors which made Michaela think of the beach she’d just left: coral pink, emerald green, and the purest white she’d ever seen. A silver sash tied off at his trim waist. He was barefoot.

So was she. She still carried her slippers in her hand, and her own long skirt swished about her ankles. Michaela hoped she didn’t commit an affront by having entered the temple in bare feet. What if only the priests were allowed such liberty? Or maybe it was considered bad manners to wear shoes in the Kalquorian version of church.

As she debated whether or not to ask, feeling the cool, smooth rock beneath her feet, she passed through the entryway’s arch.

Michaela gasped as they entered the next chamber. It was a wide open space but for the granite columns that held the weight of the rock ceiling. As in the sand-strewn entryway, the floor had been buffed smooth enough to not cause trouble in walking it, but not so smooth to make one slip. But the rest of the chamber – her eyes widened enough that she thought they might fall out of her head.

Whoever had carved the outside of the temple had been hard at work on its interior as well. The elements had not done the damage in here that the wind and sand had visited upon the exterior.

Every column was a Kalquorian figure, huge and looming. Yet these figures were not threatening. Their size alone, about eight feet in height, should have daunted Michaela. However, the artistry was beautiful and the expressions on the stone people were peaceful. The dancer felt that she walked among gentle giants who only wished to bless her.

More carvings covered the walls and ceiling. These showed scenes of such exquisite detail that Michaela felt she could almost walk in and join the animals and people in their gardens, oceans, and trees.

She was made dizzy by breathlessness. Never had she seen anything to match the chamber’s astounding features.

Several seconds passed before Michaela realized she had forgotten about Master Imold. She drifted along the walls and from column to column, reveling in her surroundings. When she jerked back to reality, she discovered Imold had been silently following her, his smile still merry and eyes warm as he allowed her to explore.

“I am so sorry,” Michaela exclaimed. “It’s just I’ve never seen anything like this. It’s beautiful.”

“Do not apologize,” Imold said with gentle insistence. “The work is astounding, isn’t it? I’ve been here for 30 years, and I still discover at least a dozen new things in the carvings every day.”

“I can’t imagine how many people and how many years this took,” Michaela said, gazing up at one column. The robed Kalquorian woman that had been depicted looked down at her with a motherly smile, one hand outstretched as if she would embrace Michaela with it.

“The carving has been going on for at least 2000 years,” Imold said. “As for how many sculptors up until now? That question has never been answered.”

“Someone is still working on this?”

“In the rear caverns.” Imold looked at the columns with affection, as if viewing old friends. “There always seems to be an artist among our number; someone who continues to transform the temple rooms.”

Michaela made herself stop admiring the work about her. “I don’t mean to waste your time by playing tourist. We can go on to your consultation room.”

Imold shrugged. “If you wish. I don’t count your curiosity as wasting my time, but you can always explore the temple after we discuss your clanning ceremony. Any of the masters or aspirants here will be glad to answer the questions you might have.”

Michaela followed him further into the cave system that did not look anything like a cave. They passed more spaces in which masters led studies and classes. In one, robed temple priests and Kalquorians who appeared to be everyday people sat quietly, staring at a fire in the middle of the room. It seemed to Michaela that they were meditating. In another room, more people slowly moved into poses that seemed to involve a lot of stretching. Yet another room held a priest talking as a vid presentation played for half a dozen men. In another, a man read from a book to another half dozen people. Some wore shoes and some didn’t, settling her mind on that issue.

The amazing carvings and columns were everywhere that Michaela looked. She was not surprised when Imold’s small consultation room held more of the same.

Imold motioned her to a huge white seating cushion that looked like a billowing cloud. “I am glad to see you well, given what the news vids reported happening yesterday. Are you as unhurt as you appear, Matara Michaela?”