Jedra levitated the fragile skylight carefully, conscious of Kayan's smoldering anger at his ability to do so, but unwilling to disobey Kitarak. He backed out of the workshop with the glass and took it outside, where he carefully climbed atop the house and cleared the hole until the new skylight fit snugly in place. The whole time he was working on the repair, he could feel Kayan's presence below him, her mind seething with resentment.
If anger could melt glass, he thought, she would have no trouble with this lesson.
Kayan didn't speak to him until that afternoon. Jedra had cleaned out the rest of the storeroom while Kitarak showed her how to melt glass, and he had floated a cushion from the main room into it for a bed. Since he was momentarily free to relax, he decided to try the bed for a short nap, the way he used to spend hot afternoons at home, but he had just lain down when Kayan stepped into the room.
He sat back up. "How did it go?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I evidently don't have any tele-kinetic ability at all."
"Oh."
She didn't come in and sit down, didn't react at all, so he stood up and held her in his arms. "I'm sorry."
She laid her head against his shoulder. "Me too."
"It doesn't matter," he said. "I can do it, and you'll always have me."
"Jedra, that's not the problem. I don't like knowing there's something I can't do." She pulled away from him, then crossed her arms over her chest.
"I'm sorry," he said again, not knowing what else to do.
She sighed. "I'll get over it," she said, then she turned away and went into the library.
But she didn't get over it. Not that day, nor any thereafter. Each passing day only produced another frustration for her as Kitarak tried one method after another to teach her what he knew of psionics. Some things she could pick up instantly, especially those powers that dealt with healing or metabolism in some way, and she was a quick study in the telepathic arts as well, but anything to do with telekinesis remained beyond her ability. It didn't matter to her that Jedra couldn't heal so much as a minor scratch, or that neither of them could teleport or even dream-travel the way Kitarak had done; no, all that mattered to Kayan was that Jedra could move things with his mind and she couldn't.
Kitarak held their training sessions in the central room, the "great room" as he called it. The three of them spent most of their time there, sitting on cushions while they learned how to manipulate light and sound, how to read minds and blank their thoughts from other mind-readers, and how to enhance their other senses. At least once a day he also took them outside into the dry canyon bottom and showed them how to fight with their minds and how to defend themselves from attacks both mental and physical.
After so much time together, they tended to seek out privacy during their few hours of free time. Kayan took to spending most of hers in the library, reading old books and ignoring Kitarak and Jedra whenever she could. At night she slept on the same bed with Jedra, but she might as well have been on the other side of the house for all the affection she showed. Jedra found himself wishing they were back in the desert again; at least it got cold enough there to require snuggling to stay warm.
Only when they joined minds did they have any kind of rapport. That was as good as ever, but it ultimately led to even more frustration because every time they did it they felt as if they'd resolved their problems, only to come down and find that they hadn't. They learned much about psionics that way, for Kitarak found teaching them easier when they were linked, but they both came to dread the long drill sessions, especially when the tohr-kreen focused on something they couldn't each do separately. And since Kitarak didn't need sleep, he drove them to exhaustion every day, which didn't help their frayed emotions either.
Finally one night, nearly two weeks after they had arrived at Kitarak's home, Jedra waited for Kayan to come to bed from another late reading session, and as she undressed in the dark he said softly, "Kayan?" He would have mindspoken, but even with practice in narrowing his focus, he didn't trust Kitarak not to listen in.
"Hmm?" Kayan paused in midmotion, a black silhouette against even greater blackness.
Jedra could have amplified the light reaching his eyes until he saw her as clearly as by daylight, but he respected her privacy. He looked up at the ceiling to remove the temptation and said, "Do you remember the first time we joined our minds just for pleasure?"
She finished pulling off her shirt, one she had made herself only a few days ago from an old cushion cover. "No," she said.
"That's because we never have."
"Yes, we did," she said, automatically gainsaying him.
"When?"
It took her a moment to come up with a reply, but she finally said, "That first night in the desert with Kitarak, when we kissed each other goodnight."
Jedra thought back to that night. It seemed a million years away, but he still remembered it clearly. "That was an accident," he said. "Not that I minded," he hastily added.
Kayan tossed her shirt into a corner and drew on her nightshirt: the robe the elves had given her, now laundered. "So what's your point?"
"My point is, why don't we do it again?"
"Because I'm tired," she said, sitting down on the bed. "And I'm in a bad mood, and I have a headache."
"All of which will go away instantly when we merge," he said.
"And all of which will come back to haunt me tenfold when we separate again," she replied.
"I bet it doesn't."
"What do you know about it? It's not your headache."
"Want to bet?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Jedra reached out and took her hand, using his light-amplification ability just enough to guide him. "It means I'm not exactly happy here either, Kayan. I had no idea it would be like this. I wanted to live happily ever after with you, not spend most of my time feeling guilty about what I can do or jealous of what you can do."
"There are no happily-ever-afters in this world," Kayan told him. But she didn't take her hand away.
Jedra pulled her gently back until she lay beside him. "So let's go to another one," he whispered. "Just for tonight. Forget Kitarak, psionics practice, and everything else. Let's spend tonight in our own world, just you and me and no cares whatsoever."
Kayan said nothing for quite a while. Jedra gave her time to think it over. He knew that any more coaxing would only make her decide against him. This had to be as much her idea as his in order for her to accept it, so he had to give her time to make her decision.
She was taking forever, though. He was afraid she had simply fallen asleep, but she finally rolled over to face him and said, "All right. Tonight let's mindlink just for the fun of it. No cares whatsoever."
Jedra let out a deep breath he hadn't even been aware he was holding. "Thank you," he said.
She laughed, the first time he had heard her do so in weeks. "Hang on to your hat," she said. "We may end up miles from here."
She leaned forward, and Jedra didn't need night vision to know that she was waiting to be kissed.
When their lips met, so did their minds. Warmth and excitement swept over them, the perfect blend of emotional and physical stimulus drawing them deep into new realms of sensation. Kitarak and his lessons, Kayan and Jedra's inequalities-all dwindled to insignificance in the face of the sudden, urgent imperative to experience every possible aspect of their convergence.
After that, things changed. Not entirely-if anything, they were even more competitive by day-but they spent their nights exploring new territory that even Kitarak didn't suspect existed. If he noticed, he didn't mention it, but he didn't ease up on them, either. When they began to fall asleep during their lessons he merely taught them how to suppress their bodies' need for sleep and continued with his instruction.