The Kanshou (Earthkeep)
“Harm is the physical result of violence. Harm is harm, regardless of the intent of the harmer, as when the boy throws the stone in fun, but the frog dies in earnest. --The Labrys Manual At Asir-By-The-Sea in the mountainous boot-heel of the Arabian Peninsula, Jezebel Stronglaces -- healer, seer, witch, and in the tales of Tibetan Yagri, a sacred shape-shifter -- woke to the touch of Bess Dicken, her lover. She laughed, then slipped one hand to the back of the big woman's neck, sending her fi...ngers upward through the wiry hair. With a twist, she fitted their long bodies to the dimensions of the hard pallet, her other hand pressing intimacy into Dicken's back. "Breath Of Astarte!" Dicken gasped. "Jezebel, thirty girls and three boys are waiting for us this minute, and you come along lighting these sacred flames--" Jezebel smiled and melted into her lover's lax embrace, pulling Dicken to her. "Guess we'd better get to that class, then." She closed her eyes and began smoothing the heavy caftan that covered Dicken's torso. Jez's unicorn earring caught Dicken's eye. It was tangled in her lover's brown hair. Dicken freed it. "Aba says that coming this time last week would sure enough have been a problem." She wrapped a lock of the shoulder-length hair around her forefinger. "One of the children died. Real sudden. Whole school was upset." She pushed the curled hair to the end of her finger where she willed it to spring off into a corkscrew. "But they’re back to normal now. So our visit is timed just right." The hair defied her efforts, falling back into a loose straight strand. Dicken sighed, conceding victory to the hair.MoreLess
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