Mirror Bound

Chapter 9

Though I had not expected it, my calculations did indeed not offer an explanation for the feeling of something being wrong at the building site. So I regretfully followed Paul's advice and sent a message to the building council that according to all the building standards, the situation on the site was all right.

I worried about my reputation if something were to happen, and about loss of life or damage to the building, but I couldn't stop the build on a hunch. And when the message was sent, I decided to let it go and enjoy the evening, going downstairs to Paul's workshop, to watch him at work.

It reminded me of a time only a few days ago, when my life was totally different and I looked at him in hopeless admiration. I still admired him and loved to see him work, but I was no longer hopeless, I knew I just needed to give him some time.

When I came in he hardly looked up, I could see he was in a critical process, casting a series of tiny parts out of what seemed to be pure copper. His hair was standing out in all directions, his face was smudged and a few drops of sweat rolled down his forehead. Apparently, he couldn't even wipe them off with his sleeve, he needed both hands on the job.

He had registered my presence, for he said: 'Melissa, would you be so kind as to hand me my pair of orange handled tweezers, from the wall?' I fetched them and laid them within easy reach. 'Thank you, you have saved my life,' he said, and picking them up he used them to adjust one of the molds a tiny bit.

I sat back and kept watching him, after a few minutes he left the molds where they were, and got a tray, which he put on the work table in front of me. 'Here are some castings you can check for flaws', he said.

Then he did wipe his forehead with his sleeve, and messed up his curls even more by running both his hands through them. It made him look irresistible, and I had to really control myself not to stand up and try to get him to kiss me.

Instead, I picked up a figurine of a horse out of the tray, whilst he started to open up another set of molds, carefully removing the shape inside, and filing and sanding it, then giving it a polish with a velvet cloth. I didn't look at the little horse in my hand, I knew it would be exquisitely detailed and full of life, but I was trying to find flaws in it, so I tried to 'feel' it rather than observe it.

When I picked it up it was dark, unpolished, so I hadn't seen the material it was made of. Holding the object in my hand, I tried to reach out to it with my mind, and as I did this, the world around me ceased to exist. The metal seemed to vibrate in a regular rhythm, a pattern.

This pattern was the same throughout the little horse's shape, forming a sort of grid with regular spacings. The spacings did not follow the shape of the little horse, they were exactly the same in every part of its head, neck, body and legs.

Except at the base of the tail, where the grid seemed to narrow, then widen again to the normal grid in the tail. The vibrating grid gave off a ringing tone, which reminded me of a bell, only pitched higher. It gave me a feeling of copper.

Then I heard the sound of filing again, and looked at the shape in my hand. The horse was indeed exquisitely shaped, with an elegant little head complete with eyes and ears and nostrils flaring.

The little mane and tail were streaming, and the legs with their perfectly shaped tiny hooves were flying. But I now knew why it was with the discards, waiting to be re-melted and cast again: the apparently perfect little tail could break off any moment.

Being able to see this made Paul so much better at his craft, he could guarantee his work being free of flaws. I picked up the velvet cloth and rubbed the little horse on the behind, and it shone coppery red. This was fun!

I put the little horse back in the tray, and picked up an ornament, a winding stalk with leaves and flowers, meant to support a bookshelf. Now the filing stopped for a moment, and Paul's voice asked: 'And, do you know what was wrong with the little horse?' I looked up from the ornament and told him: 'The tail could break off any moment. It was not visible on the outside, but I saw it and felt it in the grid inside. I also knew it was copper by the sound of the vibrations inside.'

Paul was impressed, I could see that, but he picked up the velvet cloth and started buffing his casting. He just said: 'Good, that's a good start, and you've got the flower ornament now. Let's see what you make of that.'

The world disappeared again, but this time the grid was denser, and there were fewer vibrations but stronger ones. I thought it was cold iron, I could imagine the inhabitants of faery not liking the strong emanations from it. It made me feel safe and grounded though, clearly an engineer I suppose. The grid had the same density throughout, but in the middle of the ornament was a void. I supposed that was an air-bubble in the casting, of course causing a really weak spot.

This would not carry a load of books, so it was also to be melted down. Paul was still buffing, I couldn't see what his casting was. The flower ornament was beautiful, and of course I already knew it was iron, I could still feel it vibrate in my hands. That sure was strong stuff, how had I ever failed to notice that before?

I felt a little tired now, and asked Paul: 'Is this supposed to make me tired?' He nodded affirmatively and asked: 'What was it this time?' I replied: 'Cold iron, denser grid, stronger vibrations but fewer, I can feel the vibrations even now, it emanates them. There is a hole inside, an air-bubble I guess.' Paul looked really proud now: 'Full marks, you're good at this! Can you handle one more? Then you've earned a rest.'

I looked at him cheekily and said: 'If you give me a kiss.'

That startled him, but he handled himself admirably and retorted: 'When you're done, and only if you get it right.' To accept the challenge, I took a piece out of the tray again, an inlay this time, cast very flat indeed. It was shaped like a dragon, and again so dark I couldn't see what metal it was made of by the colour. I directed my feelings inward and got a different feel altogether.

The grid was regular, but not the same throughout: it had a kind of pattern of larger and smaller parts, and the vibration was composite as well. I thought I recognised part of it as the clear high tone of copper, but the other part was less clear and lower in tone, and the grid seemed denser than copper, but less dense than iron.

And no matter how carefully I checked the grid, I could find no aberrations. I checked it again, then suppressed my natural inclination to accept failure. If I couldn't find a flaw, maybe there just wasn't one! This time, I was really fagged when I came back to the now. Why was this so tiring? Paul looked at me with just a tiny bit of concern, and a great deal of challenge and curiosity: 'And?' he said.

I told him: 'I think it's an alloy of copper, probably bronze, and there is no flaw in it.' Looking at the dragon with my eyes I was stunned how something so thin could be so incredibly detailed. Scales, eyes, little horn extrusions, clawed feel, everything was there. Sighing in awe I looked up, wanting to tell Paul how exquisite it was, but he was much closer than I expected him to be.

He was on his knees, face to my face, and before I could say anything he had both his hands in my hair and he kissed me. The passion in that kiss had me breathless, and it took a while before I realized I should get some air.

Then I answered his kiss with heat, eyes closed, holding his stubbled cheeks in my hands, feeling as much out of this world as a few moments ago but way, way better. I so loved the way he smelled, and now I felt his warm mouth as well and his passionate body against mine. It was heaven. He groaned a little with feeling, clearly no longer able to control himself completely.

I would have loved to let him lose it totally right then and there, but my exercises in magic had clearly taken a lot out of me. I felt my consciousness slipping, holding on to him not to fall, clutching myself to his chest, part blissfully, and partly alarmed at what was happening. But I felt so safe, the kiss broken but in his arms now, that I gave myself up totally for a moment and just clung to him.

When I came to, Paul's face was still very close to me and I was still in his arms. I could not help my feeling of satisfaction, lying where I wanted to, all his attention on me in total, sweet concern. He was sitting on the floor with me in his arms, and I just wanted to stay there forever. He stroked my hair, kissed me lovingly, voicing his concern: 'Dearest, are you okay? I'm sorry I rode you so hard, I should know by now magic does that to people at first. You did so well. I'm so sorry.'

I didn't mind the situation at all, so I said: 'If I end up in your arms, you can ride me this hard any day.' Then I snuggled up to him, determined to make the most of this moment of intimacy. Who knows when I'd get the chance again.

'You should be in bed,' he said, and I, still a bit groggy, replied: 'If you'll be there with me.' Clearly, Paul had great difficulty with that, for he blurted out: 'Why are you doing this to me all the time, tempting me, what would Lukas have to say about that? You love each other, don't you?' Groggy or not, this needed an explanation, for Paul was clearly and needlessly very unhappy about this.

I tried to explain: 'Paul, dearest, Lukas knows I love you as much as I love him, and he doesn't understand why the two of us are not physically involved. He wants us to be together too, he is not a man, he doesn't even know what jealousy is.

His culture is based on love, and on expressing love, always. We won't hurt him. Him and me, we can hurt you, but we already hurt you every time you see us. I know it is hard to comprehend from our culture's viewpoint, but please think about it. And hold me a little longer, then I'll be fine again.' I could see Paul was doing his very best to cope with this knowledge and his own feelings, but it was still too soon. I would have to do without intimacy with him for some time yet. I just hoped it wouldn't damage our friendship or make him really miserable.

Now another voice made itself heard, in broken English this time: 'Melissa is right, we express love where we feel it. If you feel love inside and do not let it out, it hurts you, it hurts her and it hurts even me, for I can feel it.

But I think I realize now what jealousy is, and I can't help you with it. I hope you don't hate me, for I love you too in the way of my people.' Lukas was clearly struggling with the alien concept of jealousy, wanting to make everything right but realizing he was, in a way, the main problem.

But even Paul would not accept that: 'I don't know how much you've heard Lukas, but please realize that this is not your fault or your problem.

If you can share love freely, you're clearly the most deserving. I understand the situation a lot better now and I will try to find my own way in it. Not getting intimate with Melissa for fear of getting hurt has hurt a lot so far, so maybe I should try sharing if you're both willing.'

And having said that in English slowly and carefully, he said something in Greek afterwards, knowing Paul probably the exact translation of what he'd said before. Lukas looked a bit lost, still unsure what to do with an alien situation.

He kneeled next to us, which was a disconcerting sight as his legs were jointed differently, but he managed and wanted to be held by both of us. And who could refuse this innocent creature the love he craved? I certainly couldn't, and Paul did not look forced at all as he embraced Lukas and stroked his stubbled head. Fortunately he stayed clear of the horns, for touching them would have really confused poor Lukas.

Chapter 10

I soon felt more awake, but not up to any more magic. So I sat and watched Paul and Lukas work together, the precision work done, Lukas could assist again and ask questions. Paul did brew me nice cup of tea in a blackened kettle on the back of the furnace, touching my hand as he gave me the cup.

I hoped he would dare court me from now on, taking it slow but not denying himself every semblance of love. When the time had come to have dinner, Lukas asked Paul if he could cook in his kitchen, which Paul graciously said yes to. So the three of us moved to the Gothic palace again, where Paul and I sat down at the table and made sheep's-eyes at each other, whilst Lukas moved through the kitchen like a chef and made us a lovely salad with cheese and olives. He served a special kind of bread with it, clearly baked according to his own recipe, which was a natural combination with the salad.

After dinner, we chatted some more and then Lukas and I left early, since I needed sleep more than anything after my magic exercises. Before we left I took the pins out of my hair and let it fall down in its copper-toned wealth, then kissed Paul goodnight. He couldn't help touching it of course, and I felt confident we left him reasonably happy with how matters were.

Back at my apartment Lukas immediately 'lost' his clothes, and I used the opportunity to check the welts on his back. They were healing fine, and I had the distinct feeling he was filling out a bit already. I ran my hands over his mottled back, towards his ribs, and his bones did indeed stick out a little less.

Laughingly he remarked: 'Am I being appraised for the cattle market, mistress?' I replied: 'Yes, you need a bit more flesh on you before you fetch a good price,' and I ran my hands decidedly lower than his ribs, feeling his flat stomach and the insides of his legs, then cupping his testicles carefully. His penis didn't rise at that, because it had already at my first touch.

I embraced him from behind, pressing my body close to him. 'You feel...dressed,' he observed, turning around in my arms and touching me with his glorious erection. He started to undo my buttons, kissing me at the same time. There were a lot of buttons, so it was a long kiss.

But finally my jacket, blouse and skirt came loose, and he put them away carefully, not conscious at all of his naked body and his rather large erection. Then he removed the rest of my clothes, caressed my creamy, naked curves, and took a careful hold of my breasts.

' You have the most beautiful breasts ever,' he breathed, kissing me again and rubbing his whole body against me, his penis hard against my thighs. Of course I was horny already, but he had my lust rising and rising, making me forget how tired I had been not half an hour ago. 'Shall we shower together,' he asked, 'I have sweated a lot and I'd like to freshen up before we warm your bed.'

That sounded wonderful, so I nodded and went that way, with him following me, touching me where he could, kissing me every few steps.

But we did manage to reach the shower, and it was really nice and warm, and very relaxing. I would have become very sleepy really soon, but Lukas didn't let me. He kept my lust up and rising by caressing me, kissing me and exploring my wet body all over again.

I still felt that wrench when he kneeled before me, but when he spread my legs a bit and started to fondle my clitoris with his tongue I soon forgot about his weird looking knees in my rising heat. When I had a climax I wanted to have his large member in my mouth, so I kneeled between his slim legs and as he stood up I took hold of it and put my warm moist mouth all over it and used my tongue as well. He enjoyed that of course, moving along a little in a slow rhythm. I was afraid the hot water would soon run out, so after a short time I suggested we'd dry off and move to the bed.

A cold shower was not my idea of a stimulant, though it would wake me up. He hadn't realized the water would turn cold, but when I told him he was very ready to move. I dried his back, and he did mine, and we kissed a lot during the process.

Finally we were done, and as we neared the bed, he proposed I lay on it with my upper body, but with my knees on the floor. That idea exited me a lot, so I did that quickly. Immediately I felt him enter me from behind, which was as exiting as I expected. He pumped happily for a while, but apparently it was not totally to his liking, for he disconnected, turned me around and guided my legs on his shoulders. Then he used his tongue and a few of his nimble fingers again to bring me to a noisy high, and then he entered me again, still kneeled beside the bed, now thrusting forcefully, with that high still resounding in my body, building on it until I came again in a wave of little shocks. That was to his liking, and he laughed out loud as he speeded up, clearly stronger now he wasn't emaciated anymore, keeping it up long enough to give me another lingering climax. But of course he did drive himself hard enough to collapse on me with a moan.

That wasn't really comfortable on the edge of the bed, so we wriggled to lie on it still connected, and we laid like that for quite a long time.

When I felt sleep approaching rapidly, I let it come, knowing he'd find a place beside me, entangling me in his arms and legs. And wondering what kind of surprise he'd wake me with the next morning, I fell into a deep sleep, dreaming of grids and singing metals, and not of collapsing buildings and ruined reputations. Fortunately.

That morning I woke to the smell of coffee rather than to an erotic fantasy, which gave me just a twinge of disappointment, followed by an enormous feeling of happiness when I found Lukas beside the bed with a tray with breakfast for two.

He smiled from ear to ear at my reaction to his surprise. After a nice good-morning kiss he said: 'I have already recovered so well thanks to your loving, I can surprise you in a different way.' He did indeed look a lot better, still skinny but not unhealthily so, with a lot more colour to his unmottled face, and even to the patterned parts of his skin.

His hair was growing back in rapidly, and I stroked it lovingly. It felt nice. He put the tray down and handed me a steaming cup of coffee, then lay down next to me with a cup of his own.

We took a little time to enjoy our breakfast together, then I washed and dressed, trying all the time not to think too much about the building. Would it still be standing, would they start covering it with glass today? I felt a nuzzle in my neck, and Lukas' voice breathed in my ear: 'Don't think about it. Even if something has happened, there is nothing you could have done about it. People have to trust you for your Gift to be useful.'

'Gift?' I asked him. 'That's what we call a magical talent,' he replied, 'Yours is developing rapidly, I can already see a little of it, like I saw a lot of it in Paul. ' 'And you couldn't see it a few days ago?' I asked. He replied: 'No, I couldn't, so it has strengthened a lot the last few days. Or it may be my strength coming back, and my hair.

Somehow my own Gift seems connected to my hair.' I was puzzled: 'I didn't know you had one of these Gifts too.' He explained: 'I have not yet been able to perform active magic, but I have always had an uncanny ability to hide myself, even in plain sight. That is an unconscious form of magic-use.

My captors shaved me after I had nearly escaped after fooling them into starting a fight amongst themselves. They knew.' I had a revelation: 'Is that why I couldn't immediately see you behind the hearth? You're actually quite large to hide behind it.'

He thought about it, and said: 'That may be, though I was so weakened and with my hair shaven I wonder if I had any magic left. I am very skilled in hiding as well, I used to be in trouble all the time.' This was interesting talk, but I had to go to work.