When they parted, Granny had tears in her eyes. “Goodbye then. Remember all I taught you.”
I scanned Jen’s brain. What had she taught Jen in these last two and half weeks? I couldn’t find it. Maybe that was it. She’d taught her how to shield her thoughts. Oh well, one less thing for me to teach her.
Once we were through the door, and Granny quit peering out the window at us, I lifted the very pregnant Jen in my arms as she hugged the big old travel bag to her belly. I manifested it to the porch, and said, “I’ll get it later.”
She scowled. “But . . .—”
“But nothing—darling.” Her bag had become some part of her nesting instinct or some such thing, and I just didn’t care anymore.
We disappeared into the sixth realm, leaving the damn bag behind. And off to Chile we went.
I took Jen to the snow flurries in southern Chili. She loved the snow. And now I knew why, rain and snow goddess that she was. I magically cloaked her in a white fur coat with hood, white leather boots, and gloves.
“You dressed me in white! You never, never dress me in white.”
“Indeed,” I said.
Snowflakes fell on my bare face without sensation. I set her down, observing her profile as she scanned the distant mountain ridges, smothered with pristine white crystals and snow laden beech trees. The vast frosty blanket around us sparkled under fat sunrays splashing around misty clouds. The whiteness hurt my eyes. Black was my pleasure.
She sighed in awe. “Where are we?”
“Chile.”
She snapped her head toward me. “johnny, Chile is not a few miles down the road; its thousands of miles down the road.”
“I can return you in ten minutes. Don’t fret.”
“Why did you bring me here?”
I raised one brow coyly. “Romance.”
“We’ve no time for romance! We have big troubles that need our immediate attention.”
“Like?”
“Like, your mother, your father, your rejection of inequity, Tazmark babies on the way—you, me and our new life, finding André, healing Russia—”
I pressed my finger gently against her lips. “Enough. We require time to reunite and strengthen us for whatever is to come. Do you remember how we achieved this in Montana? We were extremely disconnected, but after we made love, we conquered our enemies.”
She sighed, nodding, “Yes, I remember.”
I cupped her shoulders in my hard hands and kissed her forehead.
She said, “Aren’t you cold? I mean, I know you don’t get cold, but it’s unbelievably freezing here, and you’re only wearing a thin shirt. Doesn’t the snow chill you, even a little?”
“No.”
She shivered. “I . . . have never known such cold. Isn’t January Chili’s summer?”
“Yes, but I brought you to a higher elevation for a reason.” I encased her in a pocket of warmth. The snow melted before it touched her, dampening her face. Her moist skin softened her features. Her eyes turned up to me, emanating fathoms of hope—little unicorn, little angel, little girl.
“Protect yourself from the snow too, johnny. I can’t see your face very well.”
Hope was a pretty thing, doomed to be crushed . . . forever. I would crush her unicorn essence, ripping all traces of her from the pages of history.
I joined her in the bubble of warmth. She smiled faintly and turned to behold the landscape. We stood shoulder to shoulder in the world of her snowy love. The faintest remorse pricked my heart. Faint it was, but there. This surprised me greatly. Still, some fraction of me desired the unicorn of her—the myth of her, the innocence of her. Though my allegiance to her was dead, I still wanted what she possessed. Quen-tan had not been successful in deleting that.
She wrapped her arm across my back. “Oh johnny,” she sighed, looking out at the frosted mountains.
I snaked my arm around her shoulder and managed a fairly false, “Oh Jenséa,” joining her in optic reverie. She was ice. I was fire. I craved fire, yet I wanted to know the magic and mystery of ice.
I suppose deep down, way deep down, I wanted it all, and to become all, not just one side of it, chaos or love, but chaos and love. I shook my head at this epiphany. There seemed to be something inside me that coveted the dare—to do what could not be done. Perhaps this is why I could not obliterate her so long ago, and why . . . more than ever, I must obliterate her now. The unconditional love I had wanted, as proven, could not be attained by way of her. Talk about crushed hope. Thus, I would regain my old status in the Dragon Worlds and then . . . on to new adventures!
I glanced at her supple features, dew drop lashes, blinking— and her full pink lips that uttered naïve things. I wanted to kiss her, but I mustn’t kiss her with any longing from the past, nor must it be a secret kiss goodbye. The kiss must be false, lest she draw me into her goddess world and defeat me once more, once and forever more. I hardened the last soft spot in my heart. She was my prey—an ‘it.’
Lifting her head, her eyes met mine. Her azure orbs whirled in their own kind of way, spinning innocence that seemed weak but was really oh so strong. This she, this it, was connected to the tiny things of earth: a blade of grass, a tiny ant, a lone dewdrop. She, I mean—it, well she for a while longer, was multifaceted, complex—no longer predictable.
I falsely reflected her expression in my face. She could never guess what lurked behind the Black Light Shield she peered into. It seemed her demise should be a simple thing—she, who had been a victim of the ages. She, who could be taken down by a common boy. Yet, her demise would not be simple. Her defeat would prove my greatest challenge even though it was I who brought her to power, and I who was the single greatest cause of suffering on earth. Such irony wet my libido to execute this kill with my greatest performance of ‘Seduced by Love.’
I moved my mouth to her lips, sliding my tongue over hers. I wanted to have her without emotion—just to prove I could.
I pressed my lower body against her, and nipped her cheekbone with my teeth.
She pulled away slightly, panting gently. “johnny, I am too pregnant for this.”
I lowered her onto a white fur blanket I’d manifested. I poured my fire into her, unleashing her passion. I turned her on all fours and magically made her clothes disappear, and then mine. I mounted her flesh with selfish lust while pouring into her the illusion of love, as I had done to thousands of women over the last nine centuries.
As I copulated with her, visions of Panacéa exploded in my mind. Her vast magnificence radiated through worlds, touching chaos with long fingers of love. I fought the sensation of wanting that image to engulf me. No! I hearken not to the goddesses of love, whose powers ever dissolve the aspirations of war. Men must demean women, lest they be taken apart by woman’s natural yearning to alchemize. Male and female polarities in their pure raw form, by their very nature, are as lethal to one another as they are necessary.
I brought her to climax, and then myself, annihilating my want for her with dreams of glory ruling the Dracovar Worlds in the Draco Constellation.
We panted loudly, stilled with aftermath of physical ecstasy. I licked the beads of sweat from her back and felt around to her stomach hanging low like a fat horse. I growled lightly, turned on all over again. But the prospect of another go around felt too dangerous. Until that last thread of ancient want was obliterated, I must resist sex with this Shen. I must not embark on that oceanic journey of unrivaled coitus that drugs me with sweet delirium. I would miss it.
I rolled us to our sides, and drew her back against my stomach. A fetal kick bumped my hand. A crack of paternal wonder touched my hard heart. I doused it quickly with blackness and dreams of power.
I stroked Jen’s face. “If I am to protect earth from evil, I must destroy its source.” I kissed her ear. “I will need your help. The time is at hand.”
I felt her body harden. She managed to awkwardly turn in my arms facing me. “Please, no, not another battle, not now, not with
me in this condition.”
“Evil will not wait for us to be ready.”
“But I can’t go through another Montana ordeal. I just can’t!”
“It will be our last battle. Then we can live happily ever after.”
“But I’m pregnant.”
“Not for long.”
“But I can’t fight while caring for newborn babies.”
“You will be fighting for our newborn babies.” I thought the ‘our’ was a nice touch.
“But why do we have to fight them? If you have given up evil, won’t the Tazmarks quit viewing you as competition and leave you alone?”
“Evil seeks to destroy good. If I am good, and they are evil, they will not leave me be.” I loved feeding her this bullshit. “But worse, they will not leave you be. Anyway, it is not regarding Tazmarks that I require your talents.”
Her silence ate everything. Her heart beat loud, pounding out everything in the world but one thought. She gulped and clumsily pushed herself up to sit on her knees. When she rose, the dragon talisman fell to her back.
I sat up and pulled the dragon talisman around to her front that it might rest between her swollen breasts. She would always be mine, even when I turned her to stardust.
She pushed out the word she least wanted to say, “Dragons?”
I nodded slightly, noticing the dragon talisman’s eyes glowing red. The Dragons controlled it now—not I any longer, not for a while, not until my task was complete.
She started breathing hard.
I gripped her arms and rose, pulling her up with me.
Her eyes closed tight, shutting out the madness.
Her belly was being kicked from the inside. I saw it move.
“Jenséa,” I said softly.
Slowly, her eyes opened to see false softness in mine. “The conspiracy to end the world is Dragon born?” Her eyes grew bubble round. “Dragons want to end—the world?” Her gaze deadened. The word zombie suited her. “We have to fight—” she gulped, and suddenly the word ‘swarm of bees,’ well three words, suited her more. “—Dragons! Dress me johnny, dress me!”
“I like you naked.”
“johnny!” She shook my arms thunderously. “What’s wrong with you? You should be—disturbed. We have to fight DRAGONS, johnny, DRAGONS. We are talking about the end of the world, not just some fight!”
“Do you really expect me to be disturbed? Have you ever seen me disturbed in matters of battle?”
“No, but—”
“Success is imminent.” I touched her cheek, my eyes glittering hidden malevolence. “Do not distress.”
“We can’t beat DRAGONS. Dress me johnny—hurry! We must hide!”
“In your clothes, Jenséa?”
“God!” she made fists, “just do it!”
I magically clothed her in white again: maternity pants, cashmere turtleneck sweater, snow boots, and coat with fur hood on her head. I didn’t need to mark her in black any more, for she was marked for death.
She paced the snow, babbling frantically, “We cannot win. We can’t defeat—DRAGONS! Two of us against God knows how many. . . . DRAGONS!”
“Jenséa. Stop saying Dragons, like they are impervious to defeat. Remember, they are of me. I am of them. I have power too. Besides, a full powered Shen can defeat many Dragons,” I lied. At least I hoped I lied. One, maybe two, possibly three, was more the ticket. I wasn’t really sure. “Are you willing to fight for the salvation of earth, Jenséa? Are you willing to fight for me, to free me from the shackles of hell?”
“Can I, johnny? Is it possible to free you from your nature? Won’t you die if you abstain? Won’t you die if there is too much good on earth? Won’t earth turn into heavenly hell if you don’t cause havoc?”
I paused as if contemplating the answer, though I’d well rehearsed the lie I would tell her. However, I was pleased she was finally getting a firm grasp of the dynamic interplay between harmony and chaos. But then, that hardly mattered to me anymore. It’s as they say, ‘Too little, too late.’ Truth was no longer an option. Pretending had forever been her choice. Now, she would die in a coffin of lies.
“The Tazmark in me will transform from destroyer to warrior, from terror of the people to become defender. After we defeat the Dragons, we will defeat the adult Tazmarks. Then we will steer the young Tazmarks to propagate half breeds to spread chaos—for full bloods have proven too much for this world.” And I suppose they had.
“You’re talking fairy tales, johnny. You won’t stop loving to kill. And I am not strong enough to defeat a Dragon. I know I’m not. Even defeating a Tazmark is quite hard.”
“When you rise to full power, Dragon slaying will be easy.”
“But—”
“But now I will teach you how to manifest water substances.”
“You mean like Charlotte’s bubble?”
“Yes, like Charlotte’s bubble. She instructed you on the fine art of mind shielding, clairvoyance, and telepathy, correct?”
Jen nodded. “I’m not good at it though.”
“Keep practicing,” I said, “and you will be.”
She protested in one of her long speeches. As she spoke, I summoned a wall of remembered love for her. She would see in me visions of the chaos I’d sacrificed, the lethal emotions I’d accrued to be with her, and the compulsion to shield her even to my death. Had I really done all those things?
Her speech continued—my mind shield too. The true art of mind shielding involved casting illusion. She would never be as proficient at it as I, for not only did I have centuries to develop my skill, but I had transcended the limits earth imposed. My body had changed to prove it. But she had a human body, and always would, until I destroyed it in the fashion so ordained. The memories of old love, the old need, the old want, from ancient times—I poured into her more boldly to shut her up. Pouring, soaking, saturating.
She stopped talking in mid-sentence—having felt my memories I think. And I stopped pouring, soaking, and saturating the vibrations of these memories into her because ‘I’ was beginning to feel them too.
Her eyes poured love into me, and it was difficult to make my face look receptive but actually not receive.
I hugged her to break the spell. Her arms moved around my back. And in some ways that was worse—bodies touching, two as one in this great white wilderness, a Pollyanna snapshot of a promise that could never be. We were nearing the critical point again of so long ago when I could not betray her trust. This time I must. All that had happened between us on earth peeled away, leaving that raw moment at hand. The past was now the present. I must save myself and my Dragon Worlds by ridding the threat. This time I would wrong my right, escape the sleepy snows of love, and be freed to the fire once more. I would not be imprisoned in her incessant maternal dream, the white box of heaven.
I needed to break the embrace, and just as I thought that, she squeezed me harder. Her belly between us was active. The old memories flashed again. No. No. These memories—these memories, oh how they taunted the old Dragon love for a Snow Goddess!
I pushed her away feigning playfulness by rubbing the top of her head. “Let’s get started on your lesson.”
She said half-heartedly, “All right, how are water substances manifested?”
She had relinquished. The final act had begun. I felt better. “Being a Shen, you cannot manifest solid objects: only fluids, sticky substances, or forms of light. Divine Light you have already mastered, so I will teach you about the bubble. It will shield you from deception.”
I smiled inwardly knowing the bubble would not work on me, for I had transcended Tazmarkian limitations. It would work against the other Tazmarks though. And once she’d manifested it, her sixth piece would be fully restored.
“Imagine yourself empty.”
She closed her eyes and shook her hands for minute as if preparing to concentrate.
“There is a constellation in the universe called Seven Sisters. A substance unifies those stars, a substa
nce composed of molecules from the H2D radius, more commonly known as love. You know how a spider emits a substance from its mouth? Suck the substance to you from the Seven Sisters. Then draw it through your mouth and spit it on your foot.”
“Spit it on my foot?”
“Yes.”
“Spit, really?”
“Yes, why don’t you want to spit?”
“I don’t know, it feels . . . uncivil.”
“Shen darling, if it’s acceptable for your great Grandmother, it should be acceptable for you.”
She grimaced. “All right, all right.”
“Concentrate, but don’t try to make it happen. See it happening effortlessly.”
She stood there a long time concentrating. Her face turned light blue. In a sudden move, her lips formed a hole and a substance blasted her foot, splashing all over her boot.
She opened her eyes and looked down. “Now my foot is protected?”
“I think not, Jenséa. You spit a little too hard. You just have a gob of goo on your foot.”
“Oh.”
The look on her face made me want to laugh, but I couldn’t allow myself that luxury. I couldn’t risk falling in love with her all over again.
“Try once more.”
She closed her eyes and sighed, “Okay, okay,” as if to console herself.
I made her work all afternoon until she got the bubble right. Then I made her work into the evening on how to summon ice storms. I’d not let the cold touch her, only the wetness, for it gave measure to her acts. I made her practice turning the storms more and more fierce until she finally clenched her fists and stomped one foot. Her coat hung soaked through and through, drenched hair matted in her face. “I am exhausted, and I am hungry,” her hand rubbed her womb, “and I have cramps!”
“Enough then,” I said.
“Really, enough?” She sighed with relief.
I swept her into my arms. “Now for some food and warmth.”
“Yes,” she said, “food and warmth.”
I flew us into the sixth realm for seconds into warmer climate close to the Alacalufe encampment where the battle would ensue. I landed her in a manifested hide tent with a floor of furs and made the air warm.
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