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his beloved bayou. He couldn't find the door. He wandered through dark tunnels
toward a dim, distant light, only to find him-self walking deeper and deeper
into the black. At last he emerged into a tomb. Cobwebs hung in the corners
and they fluttered toward his face. He tasted the dust of centuries on his
tongue and he entered another door, scared and sweating.
He found himself sitting in a little amphitheater, looking down at a small
central stage. Two naked girls danced to music only they could hear, their
beautiful bodies twirling and pirouetting, tossing their heavy black hair and
laughing in delight. They touched each other as they danced and laughed,
fin-gers playfully darting here and there, and they kept stealing shy glances
toward him, as if seeking his approval.
Jak applauded, feeling an admiration, a lust and almost a love for the girls
who danced with such wild abandon for his pleasure. He watched, slowly aware
of trickles of sweat flowing down his face from his hairline. He lifted his
hand to mop away the moisture, and one of the girls stopped dancing and
pointed at him with a long finger. She an-nounced, "You are awake."
A DAMP CLOTH LAY across Jak's forehead. The pun-gent smell of herbs entered
his nostrils and seemed to push back the nausea boiling in his stomach, and
with each whiff, strength seemed to return to his limbs.
A hand cradled the back of his head, the rim of a cup pressed against his lips
and a soft woman's voice said, "Drink this."
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Unhesitatingly, Jak swallowed the liquid. It was warm and tasted strongly of
copper, like mustard greens mixed with honey. He coughed, and the cup was
removed. Carefully, he opened his eyes and saw a girl's face leaning over him.
She was the same gray-eyed young woman who had pulled him into the house. He
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tried to rise.
She pressed a hand gently against his shoulder, pushing him back against the
soft cushions beneath his body. She was as pretty as he remembered, and her
full, pink lips smiled at him. Memory slowly seeped back to him.
"Kela?" he croaked, noticing that she kept her hand on his shoulder.
The smile widened. "Yes, my name is Kela. Your name is Jak. You are among
friends."
Jak stared at her lovely face as she spoke. The bare-walled room was lit by
tapers, and the play of light and shadow did interesting things to her
fea-tures.
"My friends. Where?"
A different voice answered, "They are in the cus-tody of Pharaoh."
Kela glanced up and to her left, and another woman stepped into Jak's field of
vision. She was very tall and slim, with a touch of arrogance stamped on her
stirringly beautiful face. Her mouth was agreeably, coquettishly shaped, and
her almost imperceptibly slanted eyes contained a dark, mock-ing curiosity.
Whereas Kela was lovely in an innocent, almost childlike way, this woman's
beauty was regal, sculpted perfection. With a faint, drowsy shock of
recognition, he realized he had seen the woman be-fore. He couldn't
immediately recall, but he had an impression that she had danced for him.
"I am Nefron," the woman continued. "I will help you and all of your people if
you will but trust me."
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Kela stood to allow Nefron to move to Jak's bed-side. His eyes ran over their
forms. Both women wore thin, loosely woven tunics that seemed like cobwebs,
barely a concession to clothing. He felt himself responding to the proximity
of the two near naked females. He hoped they didn't notice. He glanced down at
himself, making sure he still wore his pants. He did, but he felt a distinct
pressure building in his groin.
"You have been brought to a safe house," Kela said. "No one will find you
here.
You have been unconscious all day and for the better part of the night."
Jak started to speak, then thought better of it. He felt awkward, even a
little foolish. It wasn't like him to start having erotic reactions in
unsecured circum-stances. He wondered briefly what had been in the drink.
"You must stay here and regain your strength," Kela said.
"Feel fine now," he grunted.
As he pushed himself up to his elbows, his head swam and his surroundings
spun.
Still, he forced himself to sit up on the edge of the pallet. "My things.
Where?"
Nefron pointed to his camouflage vest draped over a footstool. "There. Your
weapons, even your knives, are safe."
Jak started to stand, but a wave of dizziness crashed over him. He felt
himself falling, but Nefron and Kela caught him by the arms and steadied him.
As they lowered him back onto the pallet, Nefron said, "Do not be an idiot.
You are still very weak."
Jak swiped shaking hands over his eyes. "Know that now. Thanks."
"What is your full name?" Kela asked.
"Jak Lauren."
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