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Bradley, Marion Zimmer, 1930-1999

"The Door Through Space"

There was nothing I could say; she had
said it all, and truthfully. I had hated and yearned and starved for
this, and when I found it, it turned salty and bloody on my lips, like
Dallisa's despairing kisses. She ran her fingers over the scars on my
face, then gripped her small thin hands around my wrists so fiercely
that I grunted protest.
"You will not forget me," she said in her strangely lilting voice. "You
will not forget me, although you were victorious." She twisted and lay
looking up at me, her eyes glowing faintly luminous in darkness. I knew
that she could see me as clearly as if it were day. "I think it was my
victory, not yours, Race Cargill."
Gently, on an impulse I could not explain, I picked up one delicate
wrist, then the other, unclasping the heavy jeweled bracelets. She let
out a stifled cry of dismay. And then I tossed the chains into a corner
before I drew her savagely into my arms again and forced her head back
under my mouth.
* * * * *
I said good-bye to her alone, in the reddish, windswept space before the
Great House.


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