Midnight 01 - Luisa's Desire

arms back in the sleeves. Apparently one encounter would not sate this new appetite. "It is only a thought," he said. "I do not wish to raise false hopes."
     
    "Or anything else," she said, with a pointed glance toward the tenting wool.
     
    Responding with dignity was a challenge but he managed as best he could. "The sun will rise soon," he said. "I am sure you want to rest."
     
    He left her lolling on the cushions, more beautiful than a goddess, more nettlesome than a fly. He did not tell her he went to consult his guide; indeed, he hardly wished to admit to himself what he planned to do. Fairness, however, demanded he speak to the abbot immediately.
     
    If Martin's theory had the slightest chance of being true, Geshe Rinpoche would know.
     
    ***
    HE found his teacher in the storeroom with the steward. They had pulled two dusty cushions together and sat, hunched and cross-legged, before a fat horizontal book. The single window cast a dawn gray light over their heads. Accounting, said their serious faces, is not a business for the faint of heart. Certainly it was not a small business. The consumption of barley, tea, butter, and other staples by nearly two hundred souls had to be closely tracked. Moreover, Shisharovar did not live by pilgrims' gifts alone. The lamasery was famed for its expertly fashioned religious objects—prayer wheels, butter lamps, malas—both in silver and in brass. Like most of the brothers, Martin had taken part in the various stages of production, though his gift was not that of a craftsman.
     
    No, he thought sourly, his gift was the one he had so recently put at risk. His mind was strong; it could focus like a sunbeam through a lens of glass. Such a mind was meant to serve his country and his faith. If he let his carnal urges steal the upper hand, he would waste the very talent that gave him worth.
     
    Or so he might have said before. Chewing his lip, he stared at his felt-topped boots. Luisa also had a right to expect his aid. If he failed to put his gift at her service, when he might be her only chance, would not the omission taint any good he might do later on? She had given much to come here, to learn to live a better life, and she had done so with no one to set her a good example. From what he had seen, the one who made her barely deserved the name of teacher. Certainly he was no beloved guide like Geshe Rinpoche. Martin admired her for forging her own morals, strange as he might find them, in a less than moral world. She deserved a chance to achieve her dream.
     
    Just as he was about to clear his throat, the abbot looked up from the accounts.
     
    "Ah, Martin," he said, with the smile that never failed to warm his pupil's heart, "we are finished here. Please come in."
     
    "You are not finished," Martin said, reading the steward's startled look.
     
    The abbot laughed. "Well, we are surely in need of tea. Do have a break, Myingmar. I will send the chela for you when Martin and I are done."
     
    The steward bowed and left, his obvious eagerness at the prospect of nourishment drawing another smile from Martin's guide. The boy who had been sleeping in the corner scurried off to get them a pot and then Martin and his teacher were alone.
     
    The abbot cocked one wispy brow in his direction. "I must say, you look none the worse for wear. I trust your sacrifice was not too onerous."
     
    "I am well," Martin admitted. He took the cushion the steward had just left. As Luisa promised, his body hummed with vigor. He felt both relaxed and refreshed, his spine loose, his concentration crystal clear. Which did not mean what he had done deserved reward.
     
    "You have a confession," guessed the abbot.
     
    Only a day ago, Martin would have hung his head in shame. An impulse he did not understand kept it upright now. "Of a sort," he said. "Mostly I am here because I require advice."
     
    He explained his theory that the power lovers drew from sex might be changed enough for Luisa to imbibe. Direct sunlight would burn but, as the ripening of a grape transformed its rays to healthful wine, so might lovemaking transform the forces of the earth—if Luisa had a partner who knew how to channel them.
     
    "I felt her aura give," he said, "just as it did during her vision. I admit, the amount of energy that entered was small, but it did not seem to harm her. If what I suspect is true, this could serve as an alternate form of sustenance, perhaps even a replacement for drinking blood. Once she