Jeanne G'Fellers - No Sister of Mine

LaRenna’s passionate internal cries reduced to an aural murmur that parted their mouths. Only then did they indulge in the joy of slow discovery, delighting in the repetition of what felt so true. Afterward, Krell lingered with her, stroking her face, whispering lover’s fancy about her beauty until reality and guilt swept in.
“How could I be so stupid?” Krell’s face pinched with revulsion as she pushed away.
“What?” Before LaRenna could prop on one arm Krell had risen and was dressing.
“I took something from you that I can never give back.” Krell spoke over her shoulder as she tugged on her boots. “I’ve broken every barrier, crossed every line.”
“You took nothing I wasn’t willing to give.” LaRenna, shivering from the sudden removal of companion warmth, drew into the sleep corner and sat upon the bedrolls.
“You weren’t ready to lose your virginity yet, Third Kimshee, and you certainly shouldn’t have wasted such a precious commodity on the likes of me.” Krell couldn’t bear even the briefest of glances at LaRenna. She smelled like commitment. The room reeked of commitment as well—the safe, satisfying, stay-at-home, fresh-cut-flower joy of two women growing old together. It was nauseating. Krell had to leave and so left, ignoring LaRenna’s calls to return so they could discuss things. She was dirty. Krell was dirty. What they had done was insanely wrong. Yes, Kimshees had sex, but they never made love.
The Kimshee lifestyle’s lonely reality descended on LaRenna as the evening wore on. She bathed, attempted meditation, and then lay in her bedding, back to the wall, hands wrapping her knees as she forced back the lingering flurries of pleasure. Yes, Kimshees had sex, mind-blowing mental sex, but they seldom indulged in the physical act and they most certainly never, under any circumstances, despite what the soul might cry for, made love, not even with another Kimshee.

Chapter Seventeen
The size of your enemy is no indication of their strength or capabilities.
—from the Sarian Military Standards
The Hiring Hall was a squat stone structure situated in the oldest part of the Common Grounds. Narrow streets and alleyways circled it, making unseen access possible. Krell and LaRenna edged down one of the darkened gaps between buildings, twice stepping over a snoring patron of overzealous indulgence. The hall’s rear entrance was unlocked in anticipation of their arrival. They slid inside and Krell lightly rapped on one of the inner doors.
“Enter.” A low, rumbling bass pierced the predawn stillness.
Krell pushed the door open, bent slightly to enter, took LaRenna by the shoulder, and led her in. “You will keep manners with me and those who help our mission,” she said, then bolted the door behind them. “Morning, Firman. How’s life treating you?”
“Viciously, thanks for asking.” A broad-bodied Autlach sat at the worktable in the room’s center. He held his close-cut salt-andpepper head at a peculiar angle, unsuccessful at evading the swimming sensation that lingered from previous night’s activities.
“Looks like whatever you bit last night is biting you back this morning.” Krell’s head grazed the ceiling, sending plaster residue flying. “Blast it! How I hate old Aut buildings.”
Firman let out a throaty chuckle and pointed at LaRenna. “This her?” He eyed LaRenna thoughtfully as he sucked tea from the black bush of a mustache hiding his mouth. “Does her hood come off or is it permanently attached to her cute little head?”
“Behave, will you? You’re being facetious.” Krell pulled LaRenna to the front and flicked back her hood. “Third Kimshee LaRenna Belsas, meet Firman Middle, my brother.”
“Belsas?” Firman’s mug suspended midway to his mouth. He looked at LaRenna again, then to his sibling, questioning surprise pushing his eyebrows almost into his hairline. “Well, well, what a notion. My sis is training the Taelach of All’s kid.” His brows slowly found their way back home and he smiled lightly. “So, how goes the phase training?”
“Firman!”
“Sorry, Krell, but you now how it is for us single types. We take our joys where we find them.” He motioned for LaRenna to sit. “Pull up a seat, pretty lady, and tell me how much this too-tall, short-patienced, over-stubborn guardian Kimshee has corrupted you so far.” He never took his rich brown eyes off her as he pushed his near empty mug to the table edge. “Be a good sibling, Krell, and pour us all a mug.”
“I will when you quit ogling my apprentice.” Krell laughed, aware his suggestive behavior was an act. Firman was actually a gentle giant of a man with a huge soft spot for the ladies, Autlach or Taelach. Krell took his mug to the cook corner and filled it along with two others from a steaming ewer of premixed tea. “Third Kimshee,” she said between pours, “sit.”
But LaRenna remained standing, bewildered and disbelieving. Krell had never mentioned any of this. “Brother?” she repeated. “Your Autlach brother?”
“One of three, actually,” said Firman, “and it is just like her not to mention us before now.” He glared at his sibling. “Shame on you, Krell. Don’t start your newest relationship with deception. Makes for a bad omen.”
“The girl is my apprentice, nothing more.”
“Yeah, right.” Firman turned back around. “Please, sweet flower,” he said in a soothing tone. “Please sit. And don’t be angry with her. She never admits to things that are glaringly obvious to everyone else.” He glanced at his sibling. “Isn’t that right, Krell?”
Krell set a mug before each of them and joined her brother on one of the worktable’s undersized benches. LaRenna’s short legs fit the seat height perfectly. Krell’s, on the other hand, stuck up awkwardly and uncomfortably, her knees almost hitting her chest. The sight made LaRenna smile.
“It was never imperative you know my history,” Krell began in a voice to freeze the tea in their mugs. “But I suppose now you have the right. Firman is my brother, one of three. I was raised Autlach.” She fell into brief silence, hoping the words would placate the rage LaRenna’s thoughts had been broadcasting all morning. “I wasn’t taken in