Banished To Earth Book One (39)

Chapter 22

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     Neither said anything as they climbed the thickly carpeted stairs, turned left at the top, and slowly padded their way to their bedroom. Their room also had a beautiful antique lamp, but it was turned off. The room was dark except for the moonlight streaming through the large bay window, inviting them to sit.

   Gravitating toward it, she gently, clasped his right hand and led him to its puffy white eyelet cushion.

   “Don’t move and I won’t die.” Said Chase through a weak smile.

   “You remembered.”

   “Yeah, that’s why we’re here isn’t it?”

   “Yes,” she mewed.

   “I already remember too much. Stayner. He’s in me. I remember not being a man.”

   “First kill, of course, you remember, and you are a man, Chase. Am I not a woman?”

  “Yes, I know you are.”

   “Chase, be what you are, not what you fear.”

  “The wolf, I feel it inside me, and Stayner, I, I digested him. He’s…”

  “He will be swirling down the toilet soon enough.”

  “I know, but…”

    “But nothing, Chase. Are you stalling? Give yourself that knowing and grow away from him.. You have given me many gifts. Give yourself this certainty.”

  He started to speak again…

   She placed her hand over his mouth. “Still.” It wasn’t a statement but a command.

  His eyes widened as hers turned black. A thread of white lifted and gleamed silver in the moonlight. He dared not look away.

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   In silence, he watched it gently snake toward his face, glide by, and disappear when it settled against his left temple.

   Coolness kissed his skin, then numbness, as the powerful filament bore through skin and bone, drawing the slightest bit of blood on its journey through his brain to their forgotten home, Alisar…

   Though his eyes were wide open and the room dimly lit, he could see nothing, feel nothing.   Then firmness began to gather against his back and beneath his fingertips. He flexed the muscles of his fingers. Clenched and grasped a hard, curved bar-like object.

    Then it occurred to him to open his eyes, truly open his eyes. When he did, he saw that he was seated behind the steering wheel of a car. Darkness whipped past as the car’s headlights ploughed through the night.

     A two-lane black top cut through a canyon of tall pines, where was this new road taking him? He could not guess.

   Straining to see what lay before him. He was terrified he had lost Pry again; he could only hope she was somewhere up ahead waiting for him.

     All he could see was the tunnel of shadows and his cone of light scanning the black asphalt, vainly searching for something lost somewhere in the dark; no sign of Pry anywhere.

    His heart reached out until he sensed her sweet presence somewhere behind him. It warmed him like the sun, her warmth, her presence, caressed his neck and shoulders.

     His eyes darted toward the rear-view mirror. He saw her patiently seated on the back seat. Brilliant golden light emanated from every pore of her body. She wore it like a garment. It was as if her soul was made of sunshine, so bright her body could scarcely contain it.

   She tilted her head, bidding him to come to her. Strangely unconcerned with driving the car, he released the wheel, threw his right arm over the front seat, slid from under the steering wheel, and pulled himself up and over.

     Like a feather caressed and carried by a soft summer breeze, he floated to her. Drifting closer and closer until he was curled up beside her. She leaned forward and kissed his lips.

 

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   Their fingers intertwined, their ankles touched. He pulled away and lay his head on her delicate shoulder.

   A circuit closed, a vital connection made. Her brilliance now coursed through his body, transforming them into a circle of light. It was time to leave.

    Like a puzzle piece pushed out of a picture puzzle. Slowly rotating, they broke free from the back seat; the car’s transient reality, gently rising and turning head over heel until they rose and passed through the rear window.

    Gently spinning like a carousel of light against the deep blackness, they spiraled skyward, slowly shrinking against the star-flecked expanse, until they were nothing more than a fleck of light amongst a billion other twinkling flecks of light.

   Aware of nothing but each other, they spun through space and time toward their ancient past…

   And so, they travelled. Their eyes, hearts and minds so perfectly fused, they did not notice the space around them had become binding, yet elastic.  An ancient time and place now claimed them. Their first selves still lived there. But not for long…

       Her name was Pry Athamel, Athamel being her last name. However, this was her old name. Her new name was Pry Athamel Thobay, her married name. She was newlywed. Her husband, Davin Dar Thobay, lay not by her side.

    “Davin,” Pry heard her voice say, but she had not spoken. She tried to move but found she could not. “Davin!” Again, she heard her voice, but it was coming from another’s lips!

    She wanted to look, scream for Chase. But she was trapped, powerless to do anything but wait for her ancient self to do something, anything that would let her find him.

      If only she would open her eyes.

    Cool satin slid beneath fingertips that she could not control. She was searching for him. ‘Wake up Pry,’ she yelled. First Pry, of course, could not hear. A few searching swipes later and finally, light, wonderful, beautiful, bright moonlight flooded the mind chamber that held her.  

     All she could do was sit back and watch the show, the ancient show that played out so very long ago…

    First Pry threw back the covers, rolled out of bed, gathered her robe from the alabaster floor and covered herself against the chill. Her flimsy negligee was no match for the cool night air pouring through the open balcony.  It was an archway leading to a large semi-circle of yet more white marble that reached out into the night like a pouty lip, then curved up and back to form a beautiful, sculptured railing.

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    The room was a spacious cavern of marble; it had no corners, only endless curves of highly polished stone. Even the bed was an outcrop of cunningly worked rock sloping away from the over-arching wall. Floor, wall, passageway and window were all one rhythmic stream of polished stone beauty.