Le’rank barely even noticed we were going. He was too busy tearing greedily into the huge steak—he’d already eaten half of it and showed no signs of slowing down.
“I’ll see you later at the Festival of Fertility, my dear,” he said to Isla, looking up from his plate for a moment.
Isla only nodded and I got the feeling that she urgently wanted to leave. We got the hell out of there and went back to the hut and she immediately went into the fresher. And now she’s been in there long enough and I’m going to insist that she tell me what’s going on.
Sark went to the metal door of the fresher and rapped on it lightly.
“Isla, honey?” he called through the door. “Come on—I know something’s happening in there. What is it? Is your stomach upset? Do you need some medicine?”
There was a deafening silence for a moment and then her voice came through the door, slightly muffled but clearly filled with pain.
“It isn’t medicine that I need.”
“What is it then, baby? Let me know. Let me help you,” he pleaded.
“I…do not think you will be willing to help me.” Her voice sounded near tears now and Sark felt his heart twist in his chest.
“Of course I will!” he insisted. “Come on, sweetheart—whatever it is, just let me try to help.”
There was another long moment of silence. Sark was about to knock again when the door finally opened.
Standing in the doorway was Isla—she was still wearing the blue silk gown trimmed in silver that she’d had on at the feast and there were two large wet patches on the front of it.
Sark frowned. Wasn’t that where she’d spilled the dessert cream on herself? Had she been trying to wash it off and ruined her gown or something? Was that why she was upset?
Because she was definitely upset. He could tell by the desperately unhappy look in her big, dark eyes and the way her mouth trembled, as though she was trying not to cry.
“Oh, Sark,” she whispered. “I am in so much pain.”
Panic shot through him.
“What? Where? Where does it hurt, what’s wrong?” he exclaimed, looking at her anxiously. “Just tell me, baby—I’ll get you out of here and take you to a doctor!”
“I…I don’t think I need a doctor,” she said softly. “I just need someone who can help me.”
“I can help you—what do you need?” Sark asked.
“I need…I have…” She pointed to her chest and when he gave her a confused shake of his head, she reached down and pulled it up and over her head. Standing there in front of him, naked except for her panties, the problem immediately became apparently.
“Holy Goddess,” Sark swore softly.
Her breasts, which had already been large, were much bigger than they had been previously. They seemed almost swollen somehow and her nipples had turned from pale pink to a deep maroon. Pale amber droplets had formed on each dark bud, clearly showing the reason her dress had been so wet.
Sark’s first thought was of the meal they’d just had—how much radiation still lingered in the Fenushian atmosphere? Had she eaten something that had caused this? But she’d barely eaten anything at all! What was going on?
“Baby, what happened to you?” he exclaimed. “Do you think it was something we ate that made you, uh…” He waved a hand at her breasts, not sure how to express what he was seeing.
But Isla was shaking her head.
“I don’t think so, Sark,” she said. “I think…I am almost quite certain this is the Second Sign.”
“The Second Sign of what?” He stared at her blankly.
“The Second Sign that my glow will come soon,” she explained. “My Nana told me before my wedding night that I would have three signs before my glowing. The first sign is called ‘The Rush’—a tingling sensation of desire that goes all over one’s body. I…I felt it last night when you, er, gave me my treatment for the second time,” she added, her cheeks turning pink.
Sark nodded, trying to take this in.
“All right—why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”
“It is…not something one talks about.” Her cheeks got even pinker as she looked down at her feet. “It is secret…forbidden. My Nana could barely tell me what to expect on the night before my wedding, she was so mortified to speak of it. But she said I must know the signs and I must tell them to my husband as they came upon me.” She shook her head. “But Baslik was never able to bring on my glow and he was so cruel and unkind—I never wanted to speak to him of such private matters.”
“All right, I understand.” Sark nodded. He could tell by the way she was blushing and biting her lip that she was embarrassed to talk about this. Her home world, Telmar Two, was a pretty uptight planet and it was clear she’d been taught that it was shameful to talk about sex.