Knowing he had but moments left to him in this transitory state, he concentrated on the
slender form he could barely distinguish in the gloom of the darkened room. His eyesight was not very
effective in this astral plane. Reaching down, he stroked one hand over her face, liking the delicateness of
its features. If she awoke, she would think ghostly hands played with her. Grinning, Xandor placed a hand
on either side of her breasts, caressed her body all the way down, to the top of her thighs.
He couldn’t really feel the softness of her flesh. His senses were dull. But he could
imagine. His mind could very well fill in the gaps of his cloudy long-distance senses. Even in his ethereal
form, he found her tremendously exciting.
She groaned in her sleep and he wondered if she’d felt his touch. The soft moan stirred
him even more, encouraged him to stroke her flat abdomen. He realized then that she was totally nude; that
stimulated his interest even further. Flouncing restlessly, she mumbled in some unknown tongue. He pressed
down harder with his transparent hands, kneading her breasts, and she moaned loudly.
Abruptly, he sensed his time was at an end. In frustration, he ran one hand through her
soft-looking tresses while he slowly withdrew. She sat straight up, staring as if she could see him. Xandor
knew this was impossible, even for one trained in the magical arts, but she seemed to sense him floating
above her.
“Sinar biur.”
Even her words haunted him with their singsong beauty. Both hands reached for him in
entreaty, and somehow he knew she whispered, “Don’t go.” His energy was dissipating fast, her face fading;
the last image he had was a single tear tracking down her formless face.
While his spirit traveled super-fast, back to his physical body, he thought about that tear.
How odd it was that something as insubstantial and impermanent as a tear should be the only thing clearly
visible to him in that dim room.
Xandor’s mind and spirit returned with full force to his body, which shivered violently.
His pulse raced and he had trouble breathing. He seemed to be on overload. He’d never cut it so close before
when thought-searching. Breathing deeply, he calmed his frazzled senses.
His thoughts went to the mysterious woman, who called to him again and again. She’d been
awake the last journey. Today, when he found her, she was deep asleep. He had floated over her form, only a
dim outline to his astral senses. But it caught his interest and fired his imagination with its slender lines.
What was it about this particular female that drew him two galaxies across the stars?
He didn’t know but intended to find out.
Her thoughts had been unshielded. Curious. She is not psychic, nor does she practice magic
of any kind. Xandor found this puzzling. He would have guessed only a creature of immense power could have
drawn his attention and pulled him, as she had done.
Xandor shook free of his musings. His body’s biorhythms had returned to normal. Glancing
around, he thought about the method by which he thought-searched.
