Quincunx Ch 11

Four

Magic the old way

I lit my candle and sat kicking off my boots. Pulling the book from my pocket, I lay back and opened it to page one. It was a conceptual magic, symbols as referents to abstracts, shaping magic with labels.

My candle had burnt half down when Bemnie and Curromo knocked on my door. They crowded in as I answered Curromo, pressing a cup into my hands as she came and sat beside me on the bed. Bemnie hovered near the door with a big smile on her face.

"Err, thanks," I said, taking the heavy, thick walled tankard.

The top was foamy and covered in dark flakes. I took a cautious sip. The spicy flavour of the warm milk tasted exotic, honey sweetened. It made my mouth water.

"I'm going to talk to Kenval a minute," Bemnie announced as she turned and opened the door.

Curromo lay back across the bed as the door closed, letting her already short skirt ride up over her knees. I made short work of the warm locatheot while Curromo asked polite questions as to my settling in and liking for the place.

I finished and stretched to put the cup on the nightstand. As I leant back and turned to her, she reached and took my arm, pulling me down to her.

"Bemnie says she's given you a ten. If you're that good, I want my share."

The moment I had expected, the boldness I had not. My 'prodder', as they called it, had been twitching in anticipation of a more prolonged seduction since Bemnie left.

In answer, I put my hand to the lapels of her cardigan and pushed it open. "I'm game if you are," I whispered.

She took my hands and steadied herself, then brought them to the buttons of her blouse and left them to start there while she reached for the waistband of her skirt. When she was down to underclothes, she pulled me up and started on my robe.

When she saw the size of my package tenting my long johns, she looked doubly pleased. When she pulled them down to reveal my prodder fully extended, its purple head shiny in the candlelight, her eyes widened and her tongue wetted her lips automatically.

I could see her sly glances and smiles as I stood nude and waiting while she finally freed herself from her thigh length knickers. As we climbed naked onto the bed, she took my arm again. "Will you lick my furrie? Like you did with Bemnie? She voted you number one in that."

"What, no kissing and cuddling?" I asked as I reached and cupped one of her firm breasts.

She was shapely and cuddly, though trimmer that Bemnie. She had enough padding to hide her bones. Her breasts were just enough to overflow my hand with a pronounced areole and nipples like fat doorstuds.

I bent further and took a nipple in my lips, brushing my tongue tip over it. Her hands closed around my head, giving a breathless 'oh' as I sucked it in and tweaked it with my teeth. My free hand reached down and stroked her pubes as I settled to the side of her, my chest across her abdomen.

I played with her breasts, swopping about while my lower hand massaged her mound and the top of her lips, brushing through the wavy hair and splitting down the sides of her swelling lips to gently squeeze as they withdrew.

As the pleasure built and spread through her, she moaned and flexed her body, her hands running over my head and down over my shoulders, kneading my flesh as my fingers and tongue sent thrills through her.

As my fingers slipped over her furrie, I could feel the sheen of her juices. I started to let my middle finger exert a little more pressure to split them and glide over her petite inner lips, feeling her juices coating it in its warm stickiness.

As my finger dipped deeper, her legs widened, a shiver running through her as I squeezed my fingers down on her hood and rolled her nub under its tip. I turned my hips to her and twisted myself between her legs, then drew my head down as I crouched.

My thumbs spread her lips as my tongue stretched in and I spread my tongue wide to lap her juices as I licked from her hunny hole up. I dallied at her clit, letting the tip circle it and test its strength, before snaking back down the centre to penetrate her hunny hole.

Her mound thrust at me as she moaned and her hips trembled. I slipped my thumbs aside her clit and started a slow, circular massage as my tongue flicked in and around the rim, reveling in the taste and aroma of her juices, the silky softness of her skin.

Her hips jerked and she stretched forward to grab my head and pull my tongue back to her clit before collapsing back with a shuddering groan as my tongue pressed down hard on it and gave a wiggle. I let my thumbs slip and carry their massage to her lips below while my tongue played noughts and crosses.

Her next shiver was a shudder, longer and more pronounced with a groan to match. I twisted one of my thumbs and slipped it inside and let my fingers stroke her valley as I began to pump it in and out. Her legs snapped closed on my neck as her orgasm surged and overwhelmed her, her cries stifled by her labored breath, her back arching as she gripped the bedclothes.

As she lay satiated, I shuffled back and leant in to wet my throbbing head in her furrie, eliciting a moan from her as I slid it up and down. She stirred and raised her head to look at me and glance down at my prodder poised to penetrate her sweet hunny hole.

I slid it in, the silky skin gripping me as it slowly pushed its way in to fill her. She moaned again as her head dropped back and her hands went to her breasts. I leant forward with my hands astride her and began to stroke, feeling her tightness as the first thrill built into pleasure with the slickness of her juices coating it and letting me go faster.

The soft 'oofs' of breath in timing with my rhythm became half sobs as she started gasping for air, her head threshing and her fingers pulling on her nipples as the second wave of pleasure swept through her, then her body went ridged and I felt the spasming inside her, as the waves passed through her hunny hole.

As she recovered, I started gently again.

"No, wait," she said, jerking her hips back. "Do me doggy style, that's the best way I like it."

I pushed myself up on my hands, feeling my prodder slide out of her as she backed up and rolled to the edge of the bed, dropping her feet over and onto the floor. I scrambled after her and was soon standing, studying her pink and swollen petals as I waggled my head over them.

I resisted the great temptation to start licking at it again and eased my shaft back into her snug hunny hole. She gave a sigh of satisfaction as I gripped her hips and pushed it quickly in, my balls flapping forward as I filled her.

I started slowly, finding my measure as she started to rock against me she cried 'Harder'. I sped up, using most of my length to spear her as she pushed against me. As I worked her, I could feel the ball in my groin grow, the surge building for my own climax.

With her jiggling, I made my shuddering, final thrust and felt myself explode inside her, my body jerking a further three times as I filled her with my seed and then collapsed, panting and exhausted but reveling in the afterglow of my fierce orgasm.

She stirred under me as my magnificent shaft shriveled and my panting eased, turning under me to reach out and pull me down into a tight hug.

"I'll give you eleven," she sighed as she loosened her tight hold. "Just as I'm going, a perfect man turns up. I'm gonna be jealous of every other girl you bed, wishing it was me."

I was pleased with her flattery, a little surprised by the high praise and wondering how it reflected with the local boys. Like some of my friends back home, they probably only wanted a quick leg over job with instant gratification. I was proving my way was best where all concerned were satisfied.

I wrapped my arms about her shoulders and turned us both sideways, our feet still dangling over the side of the bed. She pulled me close and snuggled her head into the crook of my neck.

"You've got to promise that we can do this again before I go," she said with a pleading edge to her voice.

She kissed my chest before I had time to reply. I was more than willing. In these past few days I'd doubled the number of times I'd done it. My occasional quick frolic with Webbi in the barn or out in the woods had nothing on how nice it was here.

"Well?" she asked, giving me a squeeze.

"Yes, if you want," I replied as casually as I could, though my prodder was already twitching at the thought.

She gave me another kiss on the chest and snuggled closer.

"I wish we were going steady," she sighed.

The words hinted a set of mores behind their casual attitude to sex, a peek into their strange world of three day weeks and partying, the custom and practice of student life.

She sat up, disentangling herself from me and leaving the touch of her soft skin on my fingers as she bent to retrieve her discarded clothing. I lay and watched her as she dressed herself, her pale skin yellowed by the flickering candle, her breasts swinging free as she pulled up her long knickers.

I threw just my robe on to see her to the outside door, she reminding me of my promise as she crossed the covered walkway to her door. Thankfully, everything was quiet as I slipped back into my room.

I woke up with a hard on again and more fragments of dreams about Rash. The light through my window was the first flush of dawn. I could get a cofftea but there was ages till breakfast was served. I rolled over in bed and thought through the meditation technique that Xentha had me practice yesterday and lay back straight to concentrate on my focus with my eyes closed.

With the sun fully up, I dressed in my street clothes and stuck my head out into the common room. It was still empty. I crossed over and got the fire going to start the cofftea and came back to sit and read more of the book. I was still trying to memorise the sigils and their conceptual meanings.

I was sitting quietly when Xentha came tip toeing over.

"Ah, good, you've made cofftea," she remarked. "I thought I was first as usual."

She was dressed in her nightgown again, covering her to mid-calf but not hiding her figure as it flowed around her when she walked to pour herself a cup. She walked back and sat opposite me, the loose folds now cloaking her as she leant forward and sipped her drink.

"What are you doing today?" she asked me.

I held up my book. "I've got a little reading to catch up on and I need to see Swapswisle sometime."

"Do you fancy coming to the market with me? I'm bored now that there's no more work to do and I can show you around."

"Yes, I'll go with you after breakfast if you like."

"We can get pancakes for breakfast," she said, standing. "I know where they do the best."

"Okay, then."

"Give me five minutes to get dressed," she said, taking her cup and walking back to her room.

I picked my book up and started reading again, knowing that sometime five minutes stretched to thirty when a woman got dressed. She was surprisingly quick; I'd barely turned a page before she was back out and ready to go.

We walked through the gate and I remembered the 'wizard's house' and walked straight on to pass by it.

"Davor," she called as she turned to cross the road. "There's nothing to see, only the funny feeling."

"It's okay, I just want to satisfy my curiosity," I said, giving my attention to the ramshackle wall as I approached the gate.

I could see the spells surrounding it. Hazily in the air around the wall were sigils, larger than any I'd seen before. When they were cast they would have been powerful indeed. They were warding and defensive spells. Though greatly faded, their power was still enough to strike fear into the uninitiated.

After a minute or so of study, I walked rapidly on and joined Xentha a little way up the road where she'd crossed back and was waiting for me.

"The house is protected by old magic," I told her. "There is nothing to fear but fear itself. I wonder who owns the house."

I was thinking that if I could 'clean' it up then maybe Rash could move in, something I could look into when I had the time.

"I don't know. You'd probably be better asking that professor of yours, Heen'll. She'll probably know."

"Ah ha," I answered. "Oh, and by the way, what was that stuff phem that Bemnie was on about earlier?"

"Phem?" she said, repeating me. "It's a kind of soporific in small doses, but it can induce hallucinations if you take too much. It comes from pressed fungi. I've never taken it myself."

It seemed things came in small packages. The curiosity stood out, though; she'd named it a soporific. That didn't seem conducive to concentration.

We walked on to the market and the promised breakfast of pancakes. They also served a tart citrus juice that had a pleasantly sweet aftertaste. Xentha made idle chit chat about some of the other places to go and to see in and around the town.

One that interested me was the lake where they went swimming; it was too cold yet but in the summer they would go and have 'cookouts' there. It was a pity that I probably wouldn't be staying long enough to enjoy it. We had a little stretch of our stream that had been dammed to swim in.

We took a walk around the market after breakfast. If I'd have had more money in my pocket there were one or two things I might have bought. We ended our tour and started the walk back to the university, strolling through the piers and docks along the riverbank as we took a different route home.

Back in the dorm, Bemnie was up and was drinking a cup of the ever ready cofftea. Xentha sat down next to her.

"Do you want a cofftea?" I asked as I bypassed the table and chairs and made my way to the kitchen area.

I poured the cofftea while the girls started talking of something or other, thinking that I'd escape after drinking it, get back to reading the book and maybe put in a bit of practice at meditating. I took the cofftea back and joined them, listening to them chattering about home and what they were looking forward to, striking a melancholic chord in me.

"Ah, well," I half sighed. "I'd better put some work in on the book."

I took my cup as I stood and went to wash it. Though I was only halfway through the runic meanings with only a few memorised, I would take a bite of the latter section, the philosophy behind it and fathom its self-justification.

With the usual 'see you laters' I closed the door behind me. Though it was only just past breakfast I felt I had been up half the day. I lay on the bed and pulled the book from under the pillow. The style was different. The commentator on the sigils in the first part styled his language in an old fashioned way; this treatise was much more modern.

I read on, gaining an understanding of magic, understanding more of how to manipulate magic and magnify my thoughts through linking sigils to generate sympathetic magic as well. The thoughts meandered a bit but gave me the impression of a field that kept everything normal but had the possibility of being rearranged on a granular level.

For a magician, reality was bound by what you thought reality was. The more powerful the proponent, the smaller the grain that could be ordered. I was again tempted to try, yet hesitant at what I might achieve. I needed to learn more sigils yet.

I was still reading when the dinner bell went. I lazily got up, and finding the common room empty, I made my own way over. Dinner was a solo affair and after it ended I went to seek out Swapswisle down in the bowels of the library.

My talk with him took me further into the arcane old magic. I kept the knowledge of the book from him. The penalties for possession of the book could no doubt still be invoked. We had quite an interesting discussion about the old ways and a suggestion that the person to speak to about the granulation theory was Professor Quigley.

All in all, it was quite a productive hour and a half. Professor Swapswisle had a sharp eye and a dry sense of humour. As I left, I felt curiously pleased. I was more eager than ever to try my magic, though I couldn't think of anything other than trivia that I could use to test it.

I wandered back to the dorm, wondering if anybody would be there, thinking of trying to memorize more of the sigils, both in the physical and metaphysical dimensions. I thought also if you had spoken to me of my learning to be a magician, earning the title of Wizard, as little as a week ago, I'd have thought you mad.

The dorm was empty, thankfully, and I went straight to my room and to the tedious task of learning a new alphabet that was also a language of abstract ideas. I lay studying and chasing idle thoughts till the bell rang for tea time. I tucked the book back under my pillow and sauntered off to eat.

I saw none of the others in the hall and ate a quick tea and was outside the door headed home when I ran into Heen'll. We stopped and talked, mainly about how I was getting on. I told her about my lessons with Xentha, to aid my concentration, along with Professor Swapswisle's role as my mentor.

We talked for about ten minutes or so and then she excused herself and hurried off, leaving me to continue my stroll home. The place was still empty. I walked over to the cold stove and started the first cup of cofftea going.

I sat, trying to remember the sigils I had concentrated on this afternoon, trying to bring up their pictures in my mind with their correlating meanings. I was getting good with quite a few. There were sixty-four in total and I was trying to link some of the easier ones together to form odd spells.

As I sat thinking, the thought that I should try my luck with the spells on the Wizard's House crossed my mind, see if I could remove those and satisfy my curiosity as to what really lay inside the house. I was still deep in thought when Grepp came boldly strolling in.

"Davor!" he exclaimed as I stirred myself upright on the edge of the seat, the horse hair scrunching beneath me.

"Grepp," I acknowledged back. "There may be some hot cofftea, plenty in the pot."

"Have you seen Bemnie? She was with Calorissa and Curromo. I saw them headed this way."

"Nope, been on my own since I got back from tea."

"Oh, well, I'll just pop my head in and see if they're in the next dorm."

With that, he turned about and marched promptly out. I wondered if he still had designs on Calorissa, not that it was any of my concern, but she seemed like a nice girl and it looked like he was pestering her.

I got up myself to refill my cup when he came back in.

"Do you want a cup?" I asked.

"No," was his abrupt reply as he crossed the room to his door. "I'm going to get changed."

At least he didn't slam his door, I thought, but I wondered what had upset him. I finished pouring and sat back down, noticing that the sun was getting near setting. I should climb the tower again and have another practice up there.

I hurriedly finished my cup and washed it and headed out the door, walking briskly as I made my way there. I climbed and opened the trapdoor to the panoramic view, taking a brief stroll to look at the sights before settling once again on the plinth. I followed her instructions and began.

I slowly calmed myself and my thoughts, focusing first on my breathing, then setting aside my thoughts. I felt rather than heard her words. I'd not noticed her come up and her words of guidance came drifting into my mind, directing my focus out to encompass the world around me, its wholeness and beauty.