A little tantric magick would change all that. Tomorrow, he told himself. If you still feel this way tomorrow then you can go ahead, try to get it back.

He closed his eyes and finally fell asleep.

He woke up with an erection for the first time in months. It was fate, he told himself. Fate that brought Peregrine to him, that provided the need for him to use his power again.

Was that the truth? Or did he just want an excuse to make love to her again, an outlet for six months of sexual frustration?

He dressed and took a cab to the Imperial Hotel. The tour took up an entire floor of the new thirty-one-story tower, and everything inside was scaled up for Europeans. The halls and the insides of the elevators seemed huge to Fortunato now. By the time he got off on the thirtieth floor his hands were shaking. He leaned against Peregrine's door and knocked quietly. A few seconds later he knocked again, harder.

She answered the door in a loose nightgown that touched the floor. Her feathers were ruffled and she could hardly open her eyes. Then she saw him.

She took the chain off the door and stood aside. He shut the door behind him and took her in his arms. He could feel the tiny creature in her belly moving as he held her. He kissed her. Sparks seemed to be crackling around them, but it could have been just the strength of his desire, breaking out of the chains he'd kept it in for so long.

He pulled the straps of her nightgown down along her arms. It fell to her waist and revealed her breasts, their nipples dark and puffy. He touched one with his tongue and tasted the chalky sweetness of her milk. She put her arms around his head and moaned. Her skin was soft and fragrant as the silk of an antique kimono. She pulled him toward the unmade bed and he broke away from her long enough to take off his clothes.

She lay on her back. The pregnancy was the summit of her body, where all the curves ended. Fortunato knelt next to her and kissed her face and throat and shoulders and breasts. He couldn't seem to get his breath. He turned her on her side, facing away from him, and kissed the small of her back. Then he reached up between her legs and held her there, feeling the warmth and wetness against his palm, moving his fingers slowly through the tangle of her pubic hair. She undulated slowly, clutching a pillow in both hands.

He lay down behind her and went into her from behind. The soft flesh of her buttocks pressed into his stomach and his eyes went out of focus. "Oh, God," he said. He began to move slowly inside her, his left arm under her and cupping one breast, his right hand lightly touching the curve of her stomach. She moved with him, both of them in slow motion, her breath coming harder and faster until she cried out and ground her hips against him.

At the last possible moment he reached down and blocked his ejaculation at the perineum. The hot fluid flooded back into his groin and lights seemed to flash around him. He relaxed, ready to feel his astral body come loose from his flesh.

It didn't happen.

He put his arms around Peregrine and held onto her fiercely. He buried his face in her neck, let her long hair cover his head.

Now he knew. The power was gone.

He had a single bright moment of panic, then exhaustion carried him on into sleep.

He slept for an hour or so and woke up tired. Peregrine was on her back, watching him.

"You okay?" she said. "Yeah. Fine."

"You're not glowing."

"No," he said. He looked at his hands. "It didn't work. It was wonderful. But the power didn't come back. There's nothing there."

She turned on her side, facing him. "Oh, no." She stroked his cheek. "I'm sorry"

"It's okay," he said. "Really. I've spent the last six months going back and forth, afraid the power would come back, then afraid it wouldn't. At least now I know" He kissed her neck. "Listen. We need to talk about the baby."

"We can talk. But it's not like I expect anything from you, okay? I mean, there's some things I should probably have told you. There's a guy on the tour name of McCoy. He's the cameraman for this documentary we're doing. It looks like it could get serious with us. He knows about the baby and he doesn't care."

"Oh," Fortunato said. "I didn't know."

"We had a big fight a couple of days ago. And seeing you again-well, that really was something, that night back in New York. You're quite a guy. But you know there couldn't ever be anything permanent between us."

"No," Fortunato said. "I guess not." His hand moved reflexivelv to stroke her swollen stomach, tracing blue veins against the pale skin. "It's weird. I never wanted kids. But now that it's happened, it's not like I thought it would be. It's like it doesn't really matter what I want. I'm responsible. Even if I never see the kid, I'm still responsible, and I always will be."

"Don't make this harder than it has to be. Don't make me wish I hadn't come to you with this."

"No. I just want to know that you're going to be okay. You and the baby both."

"The baby's fine. Other than the fact that neither one of us has a last name to give it."

There was a knock at the door. Fortunato tensed, feeling suddenly out of place. "Peri?" said Tachyon's voice. "Peri, are you in there?"

"Just a minute," she said. She put on a robe and handed Fortunato his clothes. He was still buttoning his shirt when she opened the door.

Tachyon looked at Peregrine, at the rumpled bed, at Fortunato. "You," he said. He nodded like his worst suspicions had just proved out. "Peri told me you were… helping."

Jealous, little man? Fortunato thought. "That's right," he said.

"Well, I hope I didn't interrupt." He looked at Peregrine. "The bus for the Meiji Shrine is supposed to leave in fifteen minutes. If you're going."

Fortunato ignored him, went to Peregrine, and kissed her gently. "I'll call you," he said, "when I know something."

"All right." She squeezed his hand. "Be careful."

He walked past Tachyon and into the hall. A man with an elephant's trunk instead of a nose was waiting there. "Des," Fortunato said. "It's good to see you." That was not entirely true. Des looked terribly old, his cheeks sunken, the bulk of his body melting away. Fortunato wondered if his own pains were as obvious.

"Fortunato," Des said. They shook hands. "It's been a long time."

"I didn't think you'd ever leave New York."

"I was due to see a little of the world. Age has a way of catching up with one."

"Yeah," Fortunato said. "No kidding."

"Well," Des said. "I have to make the tour bus."

"Sure," Fortunato said. "I'll walk you."

There was a time when Des had been one of his best customers. It looked like those times were over.

Tachyon caught up with them at the elevator. "What do you want?" Fortunato said. "Can't you just leave me alone with this?"

"Peri told me about your powers. I came to tell you I'm sorry. I know you hate me. Though I don't really know why. I suppose the way I dress, the way I behave, is some kind of obscure threat to your masculinity. Or at least you've chosen to see it that way. But it's in your mind, not mine." Fortunato shook his head angrily.

"I just want one second." Tachyon closed his eyes. The elevator chimed and the doors opened.

"Your second's up," Fortunato said. Still he didn't move. Des got on, giving Fortunato a mournful look, and the elevator closed again. Fortunato heard the cables creaking behind bamboo-patterned doors.

"Your power is still there."

"Bullshit."

"You're shutting it inside yourself. Your mind is full of conflicts and contradictions, holding it in."

"It took everything I had to fight the Astronomer. I hit empty. The bottom of the barrel. Cleaned out. Nothing left to recharge. Like running a car battery dry. It won't even jumpstart. It's over."