The Symbolon
Page 1
The Symbolon
Book Two of the Sibylline Trilogy
A Novel by Delia J. Colvin
www.DeliaColvin.com
Firefly Press
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons living or dead is coincidental and not intended by the author.
The Symbolon
Published by arrangement with the author
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2012 by Delia J. Colvin
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Paranormal Romance Saga
Can love defy fate?
The Symbolon is the passionate second novel of The Sibylline Trilogy that weaves Greek mythology with a modern tale of eternal love!
For 3000 years, Alex has dreamed of a life with his symbolon, his mortal soul mate. But when they approach the ancient council of immortals for approval of their marriage, they discover that sinister forces object to their union. Soon, they are faced with terrifying threats, including a devastating separation that neither may survive.
THE SIBYLLINE TRILOGY
a love more enduring than life...than death...than destiny.
For contact information: www.DeliaColvin.com
E-mail Delia at DeliaJColvin@gmail.com
Or join our exuberant book lovers discussion group at http://bit.ly/DeliaColvin
To my symbolon—my beautiful husband,
Randy Colvin
Your love, support and extraordinary enthusiasm
for this story is why it is!
It means more to me than words can express─and so do you!
I love you!
∞
Delia J. Colvin
AUTHOR OF THE SIBYLLINE TRILOGY
THE SIBYLLINE ORACLE
Voted Goodreads Best Book of June 2012
Voted Goodreads Best Romance set in Italy
Selected as Digital Books Today “Great Read” June 2013
“A mix of the easy charm and undying love from Twilight
but the intelligence, wit, and mystery of
The Da Vinci Code.” Author/Blogger C.M. Albert
THE SYMBOLON
Voted Goodreads Best Books of November 2012
“Ms Colvin takes; Greek Mythology, and turns it into the most evocative, engaging, and visually arresting characters I have ever encountered.
“If you don't find yourself living the story line, feeling the angst, the longing, the betrayal, the emotions, along with the characters, you may be living impaired.” Al Hatman, Author
What Amazon Readers are saying...
“Absolutely no putting it down!”
“I have a new favorite author!”
“One of the best books I’ve read in years!”
CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
Epilogue
Symbolon: Noun [sim-boh-luhn]
Origin: Aristophanes as discussed in Plato’s Symposium
1) Soul mates.
2) Two halves of a whole, never complete until re-united.
Love is not love,
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O, no! It is an ever-fixed mark,”
Shakespeare Sonnet 116
CHAPTER 1
653 B.C. Carrara
Alex stirred sleepily and opened his eyes. He shook his head in mild amusement; even in her sleep, she needed to possess him! Kristiana was lying naked, except for the long crystal that was strung on a leather cord and permanently bound around her neck. Her soft body, with its delicious curves, straddled his, as her arms and legs wrapped around him in ownership. She was beautiful, he had to admit. Her curves, along with her sexual appetites, were intoxicating, taking him to pleasures he had only previously imagined.
To have lived his long existence without the secret knowledge of a woman…and then to feel Kristiana alive in his arms, and to make love to her, was extraordinary! It was a welcome distraction from the previous 500 years of extreme loneliness and devastation that had been his life.
Mani and Melitta had been right; it wasn’t good for Alex to spend his life mourning. Cassandra was dead and gone and nothing could be done about it. Alex was immortal and would live forever…and his soul mate, his symbolon, was gone.
If, in fact, he would live forever, he had to find something more in his life! As Mani said, Alex had been gifted with immortality for a reason. Still, it struck him as unjust that he should have survived the drowning. Over the years, he had continued to believe that the gods would smile on him and bring Cassandra back…somehow. But now, it really was time to find some way—impossible as it seemed—to move on.
Melitta told him that the first step to a new life was to find a distraction other than Cassandra. He had tried. But it seemed that any activity that didn’t include thoughts of her was wrought with a never-ending grief.
Once, he went an entire year without sculpting or painting her. He had kept his mind engrossed in the precarious task of climbing the great mountains north of his home. This was an enterprise that should have occupied his mind completely; but several times, during the night, despite his exhaustion, he had caught himself beginning to draw her face in the ground.
He almost held his breath as he counted down the final days of the year. On the last night, he didn’t sleep. He sat perched, waiting for the sun to crest the mountains. Then, leaving behind all of his supplies, he ran—possessed by the need to see and touch the paintings and sculptures that were all that he had left of her.
He wondered what was wrong with him. How could a woman whom he barely knew, except for his visions of her, and their brief time together as children, affect him even after all these years? But thankfully, because of Kristiana, thoughts of Cassandra had become only a dull ache in his heart. He worked to shake off the melancholy that had become his constant companion over the years.
Trying to convince Kristiana that he was not the man for her had been a challenge equivalent to convincing a hungry lioness that a bleeding lamb would cause her indigestion. Once her sights were set, she persevered regardless of the cost! He knew it was a tremendous hardship on her to be married to a man who seemed only capable of loving a memory, but she felt certain that she could make him love her one day. And her physical efforts were certainly proof of that, he thought with a wry smile.
Kristiana’s long bronze hair spilled over most of her face. He brushed it back, noticing the occasional gold strands from their time in the sun. The honeymoon had been fairly brief—only a month—too short from her perspective, too long from his. Alex was not an idle man; and now that he was married, rendering artistic representations of Cassandra was no longer appropriate, so he struggled to find his worth.
Still, Kristiana seemed happy and her insecurities were reasonable considering that he was still obsessed with his Cassandra. During their first sculpting lessons, three years prior, Kristiana had tried to get him to sculpt someone or something else. He had explained to her that he was there only for Cas
sandra, and if Kristiana wasn’t able to help him with that, he would find another tutor. With the sizable remuneration he was paying her for her services, Alex knew that Kristiana could not afford to turn him down. He was certain that she had been hurt, but she needed to know the truth.
It had never been his intention to lead her along, and he often thought that he should have refused to marry her. But after that early June evening, he had agreed; not out of the joy of new love, but to resolve her desperate need for him and his desperate need to have something in his life other than grief.
Their courtship, if it could be considered that, had begun recently, after three years of Kristiana’s constant flirtations. She had asked him to join the townspeople at her home to celebrate the sale of one of her sculptures. When he arrived, it was evident that he was the only guest…and her dress suggested that no one else was invited. Alex decided that he should leave. But she begged him to stay. Of course, he knew that she had not invited anyone else. The men and boys in town would have flocked to her if they’d been asked. Kristiana had offered Alex a drink and he sipped it. When she began to dance provocatively, he told her it was time for him to leave. When Alex stood, he realized that he was incapable of walking. That was all he remembered.
The next morning he awoke, stunned to find that they were both naked in her bed. Kristiana arose, almost covering herself with a blanket, and spoke of Alex’s promises and seduction the night before.
He knew it was all a lie, but watching her—despite his headache—he felt something other than grief. It certainly wasn’t love. He knew she was not to be trusted. There were rumors around Carrara that she could cast spells and Alex had suspected that her interest in growing and blending various herbs was not purely medicinal. However, it was the first time in 500 years that he had been distracted by other thoughts.
He felt a touch of exhilaration at the possibility that he could enjoy life. And, frankly, he was flattered by her efforts. Within minutes, Kristiana’s brother burst through the door—no doubt to witness the impropriety. Paolo stomped through the room, insisting that Alex had taken advantage of his poor sister and demanded that the pair marry. Alex had difficulty containing his snickers at her brother’s sanctimonious shock, seeing how Paolo was known for his legions of sexual exploits! Although Alex was quite certain that nothing had happened, he ensured that there was no further question of his conduct while they discussed what the future might hold.
Despite his attempts to convince Kristiana that she should marry someone else, she had no doubt that he would eventually love her. Perhaps she was right. It wouldn’t be the same as his love for Cassandra—a connection and love that he could only have with his symbolon. But perhaps he could have something that, it appeared, he could never have with Cassandra—a life.
Even after the wedding, Alex’s obsession continued to be like a burr under the saddle to Kristiana. During their honeymoon, she had insisted on seeing Morgana, his home. He knew that despite what he had told her, she expected far more than the simplicity that he preferred…and he had warned her! She had been shocked to find the simple shack that had been built by his father. Of course, he had fortified the structure with more modern enhancements, but Kristiana was stunned into a rare silence to see its contents; almost every open space was occupied by Alex’s artworks of Cassandra.
Still, he felt that Kristiana had handled it better than expected. She had merely asked what he would do with them now that they were married…and refused to sleep there. And she did that all without breaking a single thing, Alex recalled with relief! Before leaving, she asked him if he would torch the shack along with his tributes to Cassandra. It had never occurred to him that Kristiana would want his centuries of work destroyed. Alex had tried to reason with her and hoped that she would understand that this was his life’s work. But in truth, to destroy it would be like losing Cassandra again, and that, he could not do. To maintain their marital bliss, Alex had agreed that they would return to Carrara and build a home that would be more to Kristiana’s liking.
Watching her sleep, Alex realized that, even now, she appeared to be scheming. Then she drew a deep breath and stretched, pushing the long clear crystal around her neck into him. He reached over to move it and she jumped up, now wide awake, her eyes alarmed. She snatched the pendant from his fingers and then, seeing his surprise, she relaxed and gave him a sensual smile as her mouth moved to his.
∞
Alex hadn’t expected to like the tiny Etruscan village, but Carrara had grown on him, as Kristiana had. The discovery of the extraordinary white marble—heralded as the finest in the world—had changed not only his fate, but that of the residents of Carrara, as well, as it created a major industry for the sleepy town.
It was still early when the sun slowly rose over the mountains. In Kristiana’s studio, Alex watched as the light shifted dramatically through the various hatches in the ceiling, capturing the white dust that clung gracefully to the air and coated everything within yards of the building with its mystical sparkle, including Alex and Kristiana; transforming an otherwise drab room into a magical place.
“Why are you striking it there?” he asked, amazed at Kristiana’s adeptness with the hammer and chisel.
“Watch!” she ordered, without taking her eyes from their position on the glistening white stone. The chisel sat angled on the delicate face of her sculpture. Alex held his breath as the hammer gently tapped on the marble and the piece broke away perfectly, leaving what would become the delicate chin of a woman.
The room held numerous works that Kristiana had completed recently, but had not yet sold. Most of her sculptures were of women that rose, arms outstretched, from the sea. Her work was a marvel to him in that is was ageless and appeared to be effortless.
Noticing his expression after her last tap, she signaled for him to come closer for another lesson. “As I tell all of my students,” she quipped, seductively placing Alex’s hand on her chest, “you must feel the cut in your heart first before you cut with your hand.” She pulled his arms around her. With Kristiana, he could almost imagine what it would be like to be happy.
“But you must practice! I never see you practice anymore,” she scolded, softly. An unfinished work sat in the corner. Neither Kristiana, nor Alex, had the nerve to move it. The face could be transformed into someone else, but he didn’t have the heart for the work anymore.
Analyzing one of her works, Alex said, almost distracted, “You need the marble more than I do.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He had told her that he would go up the mountain to select and purchase more marble—it gave him something to do. He envied Kristiana with her passion of creating art for the sake of creation. His only artistic goal had been to see Cassandra again; Alex had no desire to create other works. He knew that his hands and heart knew only one subject. So it was better not to sculpt at all.
She rose, facing him, with a mischievous smile, and turned his palms toward her. “To be a great artist you must have the marble in your veins.” She placed his hands on her hips, covered in white dust. He smelled her hair and felt her curves. “But we will begin with it on your hands.”
He kissed her lightly and offered her a rare smile. Then pulling back, he said, “I need to leave now, if you wish me to return this evening.”
Until then, he had been concerned that too much time away from her would cause his mind to wander back to Cassandra, causing his pain to return. But now, after a month of togetherness, he knew that he needed the time to himself. And Kristiana needed the marble.
She sighed. “Tonight then.” She kissed his neck and pressed into him to seal the deal.
∞
The narrow dirt road wound its way through the village of Carrara and then up the hills to the marble quarries. Alex could see the serpentine pattern from the numerous hairpin turns up the precipice. Although he recognized that his seeming immortality kept him safe from most of the hazards of the roads, he still preferred his own two feet, as opposed to a cart or
horse. Flying marble and ox were constant companions on those roads so he walked, gladly paying the price for delivery.
From the village, he could see Kristiana’s brother, Paolo, directing the crew on the construction of their new home, a veritable palace, which she had decided to name Bella Vida—Beautiful Life. It was good to see Paolo take an interest, as it appeared far too easy for him to get into trouble.
With a friendly wave, Alex wondered what Paolo and Kristiana would be scheming while he was gone—perhaps an additional wing for Paolo’s pursuits? Alex shook his head in amusement. Paolo was a few years younger than he and tended toward self-indulgence. With the olive skin of the Easterners, and the blue eyes of the Galts, Paolo was striking and the responses that he received, particularly from women, tended to support that viewpoint.
To no avail, Alex had spent a great deal of time attempting to instill humility and ethics into Paolo. He was, like his sister, high-spirited and singularly focused on whatever was occupying his attention at the moment, whether it be the virtue of a new conquest, or plotting to increase his wealth. Still, outside of the Trento family, the family of oracles on the other side of the country, Paolo was his closest friend and Alex tolerated his antics, knowing that Paolo did have a good heart…besides, now they were brothers.
With the town behind him, Alex turned off the road to cut through a field where the wild flowers sprung up toward the sun and framed the base of the marble mountains in yellow and deep blue. Arriving three years earlier, he had climbed across those mountains, seeking a famous sculptor; a teacher. He had been attempting to capture his memories of Cassandra for centuries—her as a child, her looking at him, her sleeping, her and the visions that had dominated and preoccupied both of their lives. He constantly clung to his memories of her, while attempting to create something new. But he needed a new medium. When he realized that painting would never be able to capture her spirit, he began experimenting with bronze with amazing results. However, once he had seen the white Carrara marble, he had to learn to sculpt with it!