by Dale Mayer
Eric reared back. “Is that even possible?”
As she thought back on the muddled conversations, she thought she just might understand. “I think…they want me to allow the Broken One to join with me, then through the bond I already have with my stylus, travel to my stylus. Using me as a middleman of some kind. A conduit, maybe.”
“What? No way.”
“It might be possible.” She shrugged. “I’m just not sure what’s involved and how dangerous it might be.”
“Dangerous? That’s it. You’re not doing it.” He shook his head violently, his hair flying out every which way. She loved the way he hooked his hands on his hips and widened his stance. So manly. And so not going to stop her.
“I don’t know that it is or isn’t yet. I’m only guessing here.”
It is. That was her stylus speaking. And you are correct. That is what we ask of you.
She winced inside, careful to keep her reaction hidden from Eric. What he didn’t know and all that. How dangerous? She kept the communication internal this time.
Silence.
Of course they didn’t know. How long will it take?
Minutes, said her stylus.
That is for the first part of the process, added the Broken One. The second stage will take slightly longer. This is new. We have information that it is possible. But I haven’t done this process. I must learn too.
Oh boy. Does that mean you will be inside me? Cause that’s very freaky.
Yes. That is the only way.
She barely held back a shudder. She didn’t know why it bothered her. Normally, she’d bend over to help someone in need, but this seemed more…private…more personal Almost invasive, and yet she was speaking to them mentally anyway. How much different would it be?
Not much different. Your discomfort would be small… The Broken One hesitated, before admitting softly, And my need is great.
We would honor your sacrifice.
That word gave her the willies. Made her afraid there was more to this process that she wasn’t seeing.
Eric interrupted her private concerns. “Paxton is worried about losing his brother again.”
“Which way? In a stylus or by him returning to the dimension?”
“Both. Dillon will die if we take him home. But as the concept of souls bound inside a stylus is foreign to him, he’s afraid his brother would be upset at waking up inside a stylus.”
“Why don’t we ask him?” She shrugged, “What can it hurt?”
She turned to Dillon and shook his shoulder. Dillon swayed in place, his hands hanging slightly forward. “Dillon, we need to talk.”
Dillon looked at her, that same blank stillness on his features. Then his gaze cleared suddenly. “What?”
“We spoke with your brother, Paxton,” she tried not to let her impatience show, but she really wanted to leave this place. And in order to do that they needed some answers. “We would like to take you back to him, but there is a problem.” She tried to peer into his eyes. Make sure he was understanding, following her words so far. His big doe eyes gave her no clue, but there was something going on in there.
“I can’t go back,” he whispered. “It’s been too long.”
She winced. “I’m afraid that might be true. We can’t know for sure.”
“I thought it many times. His big eyes pleaded with her. “For so long. I don’t want to be held a prisoner here…lost forever.”
Oh boy. “That’s why I wondered about another solution. You can’t go back and you don’t want to stay here, do you remember styluses from when you lived with Paxton? These instruments.” She pulled hers loose from her shirt so he could see it.
His gaze locked on it, brightened. A look of recognition came over him. “You are one of the blessed. My brother too, the head of his field, was gifted with one such as this.”
“Yes, I am blessed because of my stylus. But that’s not what I meant. Inside these styluses are souls. Like you and me.” At Eric’s stifled snort, she shot him dark look. “They were willing to spend eternity alive, inside such an instrument to help their people, your people, develop into the future. Whatever that may be.”
Dillon shook his head, she could almost hear the bones protesting the movement. “No. Not possible. It is an instrument. Only.”
“Yes it is, but it is made powerful by the souls inside.
“Uh, Storey?” Eric called, “I don’t think this is working.”
She frowned. “Damn it. I just thought that maybe he would like to make a choice here. Death, stay here for the rest of eternity, or bond to a stylus and spend eternity being of use. He lost his entire life here. Wouldn’t he prefer to salvage something from this?”
“But if he doesn’t understand, he can’t make that decision. And I’m afraid that understanding is beyond him at this point.”
“For so long, I was angry, then sad that I should be forgotten and lost.” Dillon said, his voice faltering and thin, but the adamant thread was clear. “I would like to have my life back.”
“And that we can’t give you.” Storey said earnestly, “but we can give you a meaningful existence. Just not one you might expect.”
Dillon blinked, his gaze slowly going from her to Eric to the stylus and back to her again. “You are serious.”
“She is very serious.” Eric stepped forward. “You would find a life of value, of contribution and bonding with other people and souls. Except you would only exist in soul form and be contained in a stylus.”
“In other words you would physically be dead. Your soul would live on and interact on a daily basis with the people around you and technically, with your brother.”
Dillon straightened. “Paxton. I could communicate with him?”
Storey looked at Eric. “There’s no reason why he couldn’t, is there? Paxton speaks with his stylus now on a regular basis and his stylus communicates with other styluses?”
Eric nodded. “True, but maybe confirm that with your stylus.”
Right. “Am I right, stylus? Can Dillon speak with his brother once in the stylus?”
Yes. It will take a little time for him to adapt. But he will be able to communicate with us all.
“Dillon the stylus says you will be able to communicate with the whole community of them. You will be one of them.”
Dillon smiled, a slow birthing of hope, and said. “I would like that.”
***
Eric’s head spun as communication surged around him and over him. Stuck In-between, so thick in fog, he dared not step back. But he wanted to. To take a moment and regroup. But Storey was speaking with both styluses and they were speaking with Paxton’s stylus who was in turn keeping Paxton and then Eric on top of what was happening.
Paxton had the suggested recipient stylus in his hands. He had coded in the destination coordinates to the database, given by the Broken One and with the Broken One’s help had downloaded the coordinates of the other styluses to the archives. Now the transfer was ready from Paxton’s end.
Eric wasn’t sure where his end was at. He’d tried to watch Storey, but the multiple facial reactions as she alternately understood or didn’t understand what was being said telepathically fascinated him. He wanted to ask questions, but knew he’d slow the process down. It was better to wait it out.
He was happy that something was happening at last. They’d been standing here long enough. He wanted to leave this foggy half world and never come back. But he also wanted to make sure he got everyone home safe. He just didn’t know if that was possible yet.
Paxton, once he’d heard Dillon’s comment, had been all for the transfer. The Broken One had chosen the stylus most in need, but had emphasized that all needed new souls sooner rather than later.
He snorted at that.
“What Eric?” Storey asked, fatigue showing on her face. “Is something wrong?”
He smiled down at her. She looked so valiant right now, tired and wanting to be anywhere else but here, yet still game to do w
hat she could to help others out. Even if it was dangerous. And he had no doubt it was. He also knew he wouldn’t be able to talk her out of it.
She had this belief that she could do anything. So far she had, but life tended to deliver a major reality crash at some point. Not a reality check, but a complete flat out brick-to-the-face realization that you couldn’t save everyone or everything.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but her reassuring smile said he hadn’t been as successful as he’d hoped.
“I feel like I need to.”
“You don’t,” he exploded. “Let someone else do this.”
“Who?” she reached out a palm and cupped his cheek. He leaned into her soft touch. She was the most compassionate, caring female he’d ever known. So giving. And so resourceful. He both admired and cared about her. Too much to let her get hurt.
He’d come here to make sure she got out safe. But what did getting out safe mean if she walked right into another dangerous situation?
“Don’t be so worried.” Storey gave his cheek a pat before withdrawing her hand. “I’ll be fine.”
He frowned at her. She reached up and kissed his cheek.
“Will you?” he asked, his voice deepening with his heightened emotions, “Because I’m not sure I can take it if you aren’t.”
Her beautiful eyes darkened. She stepped back and said, “I will, but I think we need to help Dillon now.”
Eric nodded, his stomach sinking with dread. “Yes, it’s time.” He lifted his right arm. “I have the coordinates here on my spare.” He stepped around Storey and unhooked the codex on Dillon’s arm and attached the properly coded one. There was a soft snick and it locked in place.
He stepped back, looking for any awareness from Paxton’s brother of what was happening. Dillon’s eyes were closed and once again he appeared to be sleeping. “Dillon, I’ve just put a codex on your arm. We’re going to send you to the interior of the stylus now.”
Dillon’s lids fluttered. He nodded. His mouth opened, the words so faint Eric had to bend closer to hear. The words trickled out. “Not feeling too good.”
Eric could just imagine. This needed to happen fast. Dillon was fading quickly. He shot a warning glance at Storey. He nodded in Dillon’s direction. “The codex is set. He’s running out of time.”
A frown mingled with the worry twisting Storey’s features. “I hope he lasts long enough to make the transition.”
“Yeah, tell me again – how does he leave his body and go into the stylus? I’m just a little confused on that point.”
She grimaced. “Actually so am I. Honestly I’m not sure I want to know, either. If this works then we’ve saved a life and reunited Paxton with his long lost brother.”
She stepped slightly backwards. “I think we probably need to give him some room.”
Eric lifted a brow, but retreated several steps, staying close to Storey. It was too easy to get lost in the fog. So thick he couldn’t see more than a half dozen feet in front of him.
“Okay, now what?”
She looked over at him. And shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Storey, after making sure Eric was what she hoped was a safe distance away, closed her eyes and asked, “What’s next?”
Now we need to have Paxton run the program that will separate Dillon from his physical body and send him to the inside of his new stylus.
“I don’t understand how this is possible. But if it’s the only option…”
It became possible centuries ago, when some of the Toran and Louers developed psychic abilities involving astral travel. Much research and many experiments later, this was a process that could be followed by others.
Her insides locked down at the visual presented in her mind. Storey didn’t know what to believe and her experience with styluses had her pondering life…and death. If death was only the end of the physical body in Eric’s dimension, as proven by the people soul bound to the stylus, was that the same in her world? Was there something after death?
She didn’t have time to work the angles in her mind, but realized at some point she’d have to sit down and clarify what this meant to her. And to her mother. It also showed her how lacking in beliefs she was. Without a strong religious background giving her defining guidelines one way or the other, she hadn’t formulated any theories about death and afterlife herself. And now she’d experienced something so foreign to her world, that she knew she’d have no one else to discuss this with down the road. And that was sad.
“Storey?”
She took a deep breath. This so wasn’t the time. With an attempt at a reassuring smile, she nodded. “Yes, let’s do this.”
The codex on Dillon’s wrist started a series of notes that she’d never heard before. The sound achingly sad and heartbreakingly beautiful. Almost funeral. She spun a look at Eric and realized he was just as surprised as she was.
She watched as Dillon slowly appeared to sink in on himself. Fascinating. His features dimmed, his body slowly becoming fuzzy around the edges.
She’d expected the black mist to circle him and it did, but it seemed softer, more cloud like than she’d seen before. Instead of a hard port, dragging the body away to a new dimension, it was baby’s breath gentle.
Tears welled up inside as she realized this was the end of Dillon as she’d known him. She could only hope he was traveling to somewhere so much better.
The music slowly faded as if moving a long way away. And it probably was. The fuzzy mist darkened to the point she could barely see anything within its depths.
Eventually the music died altogether. She waited. Would the mist disappear too?
It did, slowly. Dillon appeared to sway in place, then almost in slow motion his body disintegrated with the mist. Leaving nothing behind. Unfreakin’ believable. And unfreakin’ beautiful.
She was moved beyond tears. A warm hand wrapped around her shoulders.
“Are you okay?”
She smiled tremulously. “Yes. Or at least I will be soon.”
“How long do you think before we know if it was successful?”
She’d like to know that herself.
“Stylus? Do you know if Dillon has arrived?”
He has.
A smile broke free, and Storey released the breath she’d held unconsciously. “Dillon is there.”
“Really?” Eric’s happy gasp made her laugh.
“Yes.” Even she could hear the relief wreathing her voice as she asked, “Stylus, is he all right? Is he awake? Talking?”
Not yet. He will need time to acclimatize.
That wiped the smile off. “Any idea how long?” She reached up and squeezed Eric’s hand at the worry etched on his features. Again, he couldn’t hear all of the conversation. She gave him a thumbs up gesture.
He settled back slightly and waited.
This is an unknown. Depends on how long he needs to recuperate.
“Okay. Let me know, please, when anything changes.”
She turned to Eric and relayed the information.
He shrugged. “We’ve done what we could for him. Now it’s out of our hands. Do you think we can leave?” He looked around and shuddered. “I’d like to get out of here.”
“Me too.” She took a deep breath. “Stylus, what about us? Can we leave now?”
A heavy buzz filled the air.
A quick glance confirmed Eric heard it to. “I presume that’s the styluses talking again. Not sure why that hum is so loud.”
“If it helps us escape, I don’t mind.”
We don’t know if the transfer for the Broken One will work in the physical dimensions.
Uh oh. Her next problem had appeared. “Eric, the styluses are not sure that the Broken One will be able to transfer in the regular dimensions. I believe they think the process might be easier if we do it here. They’ve always done the stylus transfers from In-between.”
Not easier. But possible.
“Actu
ally, they don’t think the transfer can happen at all unless we do it here.”
“So that’s next?” His arm fell away, and he took several steps back. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
She took a deep breath. “Okay, Stylus. What do we need to do?”
