The Crystal Clipper by B. Roman Page A

he shakes his head to refocus. Jaycina dissolves into a prismatic light, then reverts back to human form. This transformation occurs several times until David stumbles, stupefied, about the room. Dizzy from the combination of Ishtar's frantic orders in his hearing aid and Jaycina's mesmerizing tricks, David flops down on Jaycina's chaise lounge, unable to stand up any longer.
    She seats herself so close to him that her breath tickles his face. Her kohl black eyes and gilded lids are garish but strangely attractive, David thinks, and he can hardly believe he thinks so.
    “What a handsome vest,” Jaycina croons. “But it must be very warm. Why not take it off for awhile and be comfortable.” She toys with the laces that keep the vest closed to hide the magic tunic beneath.
    David draws back to avoid her touch. “No! I mean, I'm fine. Cold, in fact.”
    “Such a sweet boy. So handsome, so innocent.” With one swift tug, Jaycina unlaces David's vest to reveal the tunic. The crystals glitter, their reflections dancing in the light of the mirrored room.
    “Exquisite,” Jaycina comments, in a Marilyn Monroe sort of breathiness. “The most beautiful tunic I have ever seen.”
    “Oh, this old thing? You should see my Sunday tunic.” David makes a feeble attempt at humor, at the same time wiping beads of sweat that bubble up on his forehead.
    “Such an unusual design.” Jaycina reaches over and runs her hand along the Star of David gridwork pattern. David quickly places his hand over his heart to protect the Moldavite stone. But Jaycina is too cunning. With a rapid flick of her talon-like fingernails, she cuts David's hand, drawing blood. Instinctively, he puts his hand up to his mouth and sucks on it to stop the blood. In a deft move, Jaycina plucks the Moldavite from its hiding place.
    “What a lovely gift,” Jaycina says coyly, her eyes relishing the rare and valuable black stone. “Thank you, David. I've always wanted one.”
    “Don't mention it.”
    When Jaycina rises from the chaise lounge, David blows out a big breath of defeat and murmurs, “Damn. I've just been disconnected.”

Sixteen
    Huddling behind a rock formation on the beach, a distressed Ishtar and Dorinda watch as a crew of men rowing several large boats tow the Moon Singer away from what they thought was a secure hiding place.
    Anger, confusion, and disbelief flush Ishtar's face. “I can't understand it. How did they discover the Moon Singer?”
    Dorinda's anger matches Ishtar's, but she is far more certain of the reason. “There is no other explanation, Ishtar. David was detected entering the Palace. This enabled Jaycina to ensnare him.”
    “But how? She has no crystal imprint on David to detect him. And Judiah had the guard's schedule timed perfectly.”
    Dorinda's mouth is tight, her eyes hard as steel. “Perhaps Judiah had more than the guard's schedule timed perfectly.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Look closely.” Dorinda motions toward a group of men now congregating on the shore, and one in particular whose face is lighted by the lantern he carries.
    Ishtar's body becomes rigid, his voice leaden with contempt. “Judiah. Judiah, the traitor.” He moves to confront the man he once called his friend.
    “No.” Dorinda restrains him with a firm hand. “Wait. He mustn't know we've discovered him. Not yet. Our time will come to expose him for the turncoat that he is. First, we must know where they will hide the Moon Singer.”
    Ishtar clenches his hand into a fist, and presses it hard against his mouth, as though to hold back a tirade of acrimony from escaping his lips. Silently, he nods in agreement and he and Dorinda move quietly in the shadows to follow the men.
    * * *
    David sits awkwardly on plush satin pillows while Jaycina reclines next to him. Slave girls fan them with large peacock feathers and serve them food and wine. Jaycina toys with David, kittenishly, plopping grapes in his mouth and giving him sips of wine from a gold