Days of High Adventure by Elliott Kay Page B

gestured to the enchanted backpack and Amanda’s other tools stacked in the corner. “I know only a little of wizardry and the arcane arts, yet even I know that these things alone are not enough to fill anyone’s life. No one but madmen,” she added softly.
    Looking up at Salatis with pleading eyes, Amanda found herself at a complete loss. “I’ve been alone for weeks,” Amanda said, “and even before I came here, I...” She swallowed, trying to figure out how to express herself without giving away too much. “I have friends far away from here, but even so, I’ve been lonely for a long time. Maybe I’m just used to it.”
    “You are used to your fear,” Salatis said. “You have felt the sting of rejection. Mockery. Betrayal. I can see that as plainly as I see your eyes.” Her fingers continued to stroke through Amanda’s hair. “And you are only now finding your strength.”
    Amanda nodded. “Can you understand, then...why it’s hard for me to trust? I don’t want to insult you. You’ve all been so kind to me, and I —!” Her words came out in a rush, but were halted by a single finger laid upon her lips.
    “Do you know the relation of Deyallah to Set, Amira?” the priestess asked. Amanda shook her head. Given everything going on in the temple, she had been afraid to ask much. That was one particular question that she wouldn’t have even dared. “Set’s priests believe Deyallah belongs to their god. As his wife, as his whore...ask any priest of Set of Deyallah’s place and you will quickly come to understand his view of women.
    “ They are wrong in each case. As with any woman, Deyallah is more complicated than a simple, meek, submissive wife. She has her own goals. Her own interests. Were there perfect harmony between Deyallah and Set, there would be similar harmony between her priests and his...and yet the priests of Set would love nothing more than to drive us from this city.
    “They cannot. They haven’t the power. They call us licentious whores and they deride our celebrations of mortal flesh and intimacy. They resent us. And yet we stand.
    “Now, tell me, Amira...when a young, budding wizard appears at our doorstep, only minutes after the tower of the most favored servant of Set himself has come crashing down, what are we to think?”
    Amanda just stared into her eyes. The answer was obvious. She had half-expected—or more than half, really—that the priestesses would guess exactly what happened. She figured that they might have their own reasons for sheltering her, though. Reasons that didn’t involve waiting to turn her over to Bel-Danab. Yet now she felt stupid for even hoping for such a thing.
    “I’m sorry,” Amanda whispered.
    Salatis gently shook her head. “We know that Deyallah belongs to Deyallah,” she finished, “and that she will do as she chooses. We know that if the priests of Set wanted more cooperation from us, they would show it in their own actions.
    “You are safe here, Amira. Whatever you have done, it has pleased Deyallah. Bel-Danab and his minions are not allowed in here. Nor has anyone guessed as to your identity or your purpose but me. We do not see a wizard, or the foe of a mighty sorcerer. We see a guest.”
    Her voice dropped as her face crept closer to Amanda’s. “A greatly honored guest...who should know our appreciation.”
    Amanda’s resistance crumbled the moment Salatis’s lips brushed against hers. Her mind went virtually blank for a moment as the other woman’s kiss slowly widened and deepened. Tingling pleasure erupted from her tongue, rippling from there throughout her limbs and down to her core.
    “You have a lovely body, Amira,” Salatis murmured when the kiss finally ended.
    “I do?” A tremble ran through her. “I’m not… standards are different where I’m from, I guess. I haven’t heard that before coming here.”
    “Are you sure it is a matter of standards?” Salatis asked. “I somehow think that you have hidden