Woman of Silk and Stone

by Mattie Dunman

  A bathtub that seemed to be carved out of the same piece of marble as the rest of the room took up a good quarter of the space; it was big enough for three or four people at once, and was deep enough to cover my hips while standing. A short staircase led in and out of the tub so I wouldn't have to employ any gymnastics to maneuver it, and a soft glow seemed to emanate from the stone, as though it were lit from within.

  I had noticed that there didn't seem to be any signs of electricity in use here, but Solis apparently utilized a different means of lighting. There were torches and candles aplently, but placed strategically around the rooms were fist-sized stones that shone without heat and emitted a gentle ambient light that was rather soothing. I wasn't sure if it was a natural property of the stone or some kind of magic, but I was glad I wouldn't be dependent on candles for light.

  Hali had shown me the splendor in which I was to live, her voice gaining strength and confidence as she observed my wide-eyed awe. I barely took any of it in initially, longing for the moment when I might be alone to try and regain some of my equilibrium.

  By the time Hali left, promising to return for me in a few hours for the evening meal, my level of functionality resembled that of a twenty-four year old zombie. She seemed a bit worried to leave me, asking if I wanted a servant to help me bathe or just generally hover around getting in the way, but I declined. I knew there was an explosion of emotion coming soon, and I really didn't want some poor innocent getting caught in the blast.

  So there I sat, running my fingers along the softest coverlet on the biggest, fluffiest bed I could imagine, in the middle of my own "special" chambers in a spectacular palace in an enchanted kingdom, and all I could think of was my tiny desk in my microscopic cubicle in a cramped office in D.C.

  With a great shuddering sigh, I finally, and for the last time, allowed myself to acknowledge that life as I knew it was over. Everything started anew here; I couldn't carry my old insecurities with me into this brave new world, or expect things to work the same, or to even understand the motivations of those around me.

  And I gave myself a moment to realize that despite my mostly aloof relationship with my parents, I would never see them again, and they would never know what happened to me.

  The tears came swiftly then, a rising tide of grief and resignation that far overwhelmed any antipathy I usually felt towards my mother and father. They had been a predominately indifferent presence in my life, not cruel or abusive, but detached, and perversely, the times they actually paid attention to me, I wished for them to leave me alone. Still, for a moment I permitted myself to remember the trip to Jekyll Island when I was twelve, the only time I ever travelled with my parents.

  Mom and Dad were, if such a thing is possible, aristocratic hippies. The offspring of two prominent political activists from the 1960s, my parents had an inherited sense of responsibility for the progression of mankind, the environment, wheatgrass, and a number of other worthy causes, none of which included hands-on parenting.

  They used to do community building workshops all across the country and, oddly enough, in India, but they never took me along. I was always a distraction because I wasn't enthusiastic about the role of pamphlet passer-outer; silly me, I was more interested in playing with other kids or trying to find some structure to mold my life around. Usually I was left behind with one of Dad's interns as a nanny, but for this one week in Jekyll Island, my parents couldn't find anyone to watch me. So I went along.

  It was the best week of my life.

  There was a hurricane warning, so the workshop was cancelled and we were stranded on the island for almost the entire week. The weather was insane, the winds flinging debris all over the island, making it virtually impossible to leave the hotel. And so my parents, who probably only saw me a few days out of every month, were forced to spend six straight days alone with me.

  For the first time in my memory, we laughed together. We played stupid board games and Charades and made up songs. Mom showed me how to weave friendship bracelets, while Dad showed me how to play guitar. It was the only time in my life where I really felt part of a family, and despite the disappointment that nearly shattered me when we returned home and everything went back to normal, that week always stood out as a shining example that somewhere, buried deep beneath their casual absenteeism, my parents loved me.

  So I wept for that twelve year old child who would never have a chance to find out if that magic time could be resurrected. I wept for the girl who would never show them that she could accomplish something of worth, something to be proud of. I wept for the woman who would never have a chance to reconcile, never have the chance to introduce them to what a real family should be like.

  And I wept for the part of me that would never recover from losing my only family, no matter how distant, as surely as though a great tidal wave had risen up and swept them away.

  What a beautiful room I had now.

  What a beautiful room.

  Chapter IX

  Think I Better Knock, Knock, Knock...On Wood

  In a day of incredibly disturbing events, the most unsettling yet came while I was getting ready for dinner.

  I had just washed my face, getting rid of most of the makeup Damki and her helpers had worked so hard on. Some part of me was hoping that my changed appearance was due to their ministrations, that when I wiped away the lip stain and eye shadow, my familiar be-freckled skin would be hiding there underneath.

  I hardly looked any different; perhaps less dramatic without the enhancements the makeup provided, but if anything, my naked skin seemed more porcelain, the hue delicate and pearl-toned. My eyes still carried what seemed to me an unnatural energy, a luminescence that was both appealing and unnerving.

  Suddenly I was so angry at the turn of events, at the fact that I couldn't even keep my plain old green eyes that I struck out at the stone wall by the mirror, smashing the fist of my right hand into the marble with enough force to break bone.

  To my utter astonishment, instead of unbearable pain in my hand, there was a mild vibration that traveled up my arm and a hairline fracture radiated in the stone where I struck, spreading out vein-like up the wall. I stared in numb confusion as the implications set in and then began gasping air in and out of my lungs as though I had just run a marathon.

  Trembling violently, I examined my right hand, expecting to see the bones shattered, the skin red and bruised, some sign that I had just driven my fragile hand into a wall.

  The skin was red and angry, the knuckles scraped raw from the force of the blow. I could feel the sting, but it was no worse than if I had road-burn. I could still feel a faint vibration running up my arm, as though I had swung a bat or a hollow pipe at the wall rather than my own hand, but there was no indescribable pain, no sense that I had done major trauma to the small bones of my hand.

  It was hard to tell, but I thought as I pressed on the skin of my right arm, it seemed as though there were something hard beneath it; rather than the yield of soft muscle, my skin was stretched over something firm all the way up to my shoulder. My left arm felt as it always had, even if the skin was smoother than it ever had been, despite the small fortune I spent on moisturizer.

  As I stood staring, waiting for pain to set in, incapable of believing the damage was as mild as it appeared, the faint traces of bloody scrapes on my knuckles dwindled and scabbed over. My breath came in shallow gasps as I saw every trace of injury fade from my hand, leaving behind only what small amount of blood I had shed. Within minutes, the skin was whole and perfect, and a faint, dull ache in my arm that I hadn't really registered dissolved into nothing.

  But the cracked wall remained.

  Shaking uncontrollably, I sank to the floor by the fireplace, clutching my hand to my chest as though it would disappear. The fire seemed to blaze hotter, chasing away some of the chill of the adrenaline dump, and for a moment, the smoke seemed to wind around me, embracing me in an illusory grip.

  Marginally recovered, I strove to
consider what had just happened through objective eyes.

  Clearly, ignoring the fact that I had a piece of wood attached to my hand when I landed here didn't mean that the wood had just gone away. I remembered Temuk mentioning how when they found me the new appendage had seemed to melt into my arm after they touched it in curiosity. Somehow, I had just dismissed that little bit of information as too much to take in and forgotten it. Now, it appeared I had an answer as to where the pretty wood club attached to my hand had gotten to.

  It was inside me.

  I pictured myself as Wolverine from X-Men; instead of an impenetrable shield of metal over my bones, I had...petrified wood? The novelty of the idea dissipated pretty quickly as I examined my arm with more interest. I could tell by feel where the wood had migrated and followed the sensation of stone beneath skin all the way up my right arm, where it shifted direction and spread across my collar bone, finally ending halfway down my ribs on the left side. I stretched my left arm behind and tried to determine if it covered my back as well, but it was hard to tell from that angle.

  Still, even without really being able to examine it properly, it appeared that the wood had somehow blended with my bones to give me one hell of a right hand punch, and formed a protective shield around my heart.

  All things considered, and despite how creepy and bizarre I found the idea of having melted petrified wood inside of me, things could always be worse.

  Still hanging on grimly to my sense of unreality, I moved on to consider my skin. The skin that was no longer broken or injured. The skin that had healed within moments of trauma.

  Dragging myself to my feet, I moved to the basin that served as a sink and pushed on a primitive pump, watching in fascination as warm water sluggishly made its way free of the tap. Shaking my head at the strangeness of the old-fashioned but ingenious plumbing, I rinsed my hand underneath the lukewarm water, marveling at the unmarred skin that should have at the very least boasted a wicked bruise.

  I turned off the pump and sat down on a cushioned bench next to the mirror, staring at myself with an unhealthy detachment. Feeling as though I lived outside my body, I permitted my mind to wander, to try and recall some of what had occurred while I tumbled in the void.

  All I could really remember with clarity was the pain, but deep down I knew somehow that I had been remade there, whether it was to ensure that I would survive the transition between worlds, or some danger that lay ahead. The last shreds of hope I had stubbornly, if pointlessly, clung to that all this was an elaborate dream wavered and guttered out of existence. In a very basic sense, I was no longer the same person, and I had to start acting accordingly.

  A knock sounded on the outside door and I returned to myself with a grunt, feeling the weight of my new knowledge. But on some level, I found myself grateful for the changes to my body, imagining that they gave me a better chance of survival in this new world; the ability to translate and understand different languages without effort, the quick healing, the reinforced bone which purpose I had yet to discern, all gave me a chance to accomplish something great with less dire peril.

  The knock sounded again and I could hear Hili's delicate voice calling for me. Getting to my feet in a graceful swoop, something that, realistically speaking, wouldn't have worked with my old body, I wandered out to the main room and answered.

  "Come in."

  The door swung open and Hili greeted me with a cautious smile. "Beleti Honey, it is time for the evening meal. Are you well enough to attend? Ensi Tam asks that you join him at his table." Her quivering voice told me this was something to be pretty excited about, and I imagined if I got to sit with the king, my personal advisor probably would too.

  "Absolutely. Lead the way, Hili," I said magnanimously, girding my loins for metaphoric battle. I had no doubt that I would be under intense scrutiny every moment I was in public view, so I gave myself the little pep talk I used to give my clients when they had to make a statement to the press.

  "They need you. They need the answers you can give them; they need the words from your mouth, the expression on your face. They can only take what you give them, so only give them what you can bear," I muttered under my breath, soothed by the familiar mantra a PR professor had taught me. Hili cast me a dubious glance, but I raised my chin and tilted my lips up slightly for an enigmatic, knowing smile. Without a doubt, I was the one holding the ace up my sleeve in this situation. My presence in this world meant they needed something from me, and I had unexplainable healing abilities and a stone shield around my heart to protect me.

  I was totally going to kick some ass.

  ***

  The dining hall was just that. A cavernous, high-ceilinged room filled with polished wooden tables and benches that stretched the length of the walls, reminding me of a cafeteria, albeit a much fancier one. Vibrant tapestries depicting Solisians making merry in bright bold colors hung from the ceiling all along the walls, and the floor was one great slab of that marvelous golden stone that seemed to be a favored building material around here. At the far end of the room, a raised platform was covered in thick, braided rugs of blue and turquoise. There were three long tables facing the room, one in the center and slightly higher than the others; obviously the king's table.

  At first glance, the size of the room and the crowd was overwhelming enough to set my knees knocking, but I simply gritted my teeth and forced myself to think rationally. It was probably where all the court members had their meal served at the same time, so of course it was crowded. And of course all of them would be staring at me; after all I was a Halqu and apparently a big deal. Nothing to get all worked up over.

  Hili led me towards the raised platform with a spring in her step, clearly relishing her new position. It was kind of cute, though I hoped it didn't go to her head. I was still unclear on how old she was and how that would translate into Earth years, but based on her behavior thus far, I imagined her to be the equivalent of a fifteen-year old.

  As we passed the long tables, I kept my eyes forward and a pleasant smile on my face. Out of the corner of my eyes, I could see heads moving together, whispering, and elegant tan hands gesturing in my direction. The hall was eerily quiet, just the unintelligible mutterings of the people brushing my ears until we finally reached the platform. Even though I knew it was an unfair comparison, I felt like I had just walked the gauntlet. But I was still standing, and as Tam rose from his enormous carved chair at the center of his table and gave me a smile so brilliant and genuine, I felt all my anxiety melt away.

  What a sweet kid.

  "Honey Sullivan, we welcome you to the Golden City and to Solis. We are honored that you have come to us from your land of Earth," Tam addressed the room in a surprising, booming voice that any town crier would be proud of. Up close, I could see his hands shake slightly with nerves and my heart swelled with pride at this boy's determination to do his job at such a young age. I gave him an encouraging smile when he glanced my way, and he took a deep breath before continuing.

  "Not since my Rabum's rule have we been blessed with a Halqu in Solis, and we cherish your sacrifice in crossing Ka Harsag to bring the strengths of your world to ours." Tam blew out a great sigh and looked down tentatively at the woman seated next to him. She gave him a smile and a nod, and he relaxed his shoulders a bit before turning and grinning at me.

  Thunderous cheers echoed through the vast hall as the court reacted to the king's declaration, and with a heartening nod from Tam, when the crowd quieted I made my own statement.

  "Thank you for your warm welcome. I look forward to learning all I can about Solis and hope that I will bring further glory to the Golden City," I proclaimed, projecting my voice as much as possible. Marveling over how steady my voice sounded even though my gut was churning like a blender, I managed a smile as the crowd once again roared their approval.

  Once things quieted down, Tam asked me to sit next to him. I glanced at his table, seeing six men and one woman spread out on either side of him, all fac
ing the rest of the hall. I smiled and made eye contact with each of them before nodding my head at Efrim, who was seated at the far end of the table and looking quite put out. Smirking just a bit, I moved to the empty seat next to Tam. He gestured and a servant emerged from behind a curtain where he must have been hovering, waiting for a command. The servant kept his eyes on the floor as he moved the chair out from the table and placed a bright yellow cushion on the seat. Hesitating, I glanced back at Hili, who nodded at me to take my place before moving to one of the side tables on the platform, where she was seated between two ornately dressed women, making her tasteful but comparatively plain gown stand out like a swan in a flock of peacocks.

  Tam was waiting patiently at my side while I took note of all this, and once I returned my gaze his way he immediately launched into introductions.

  "Honey, I would like for you to meet my closest advisors." Pointing to the men on either side of the table, he rattled off a few names that were too long and convoluted for me to grasp. From what I could tell the men, the oldest of whom appeared, to my eyes, no more than forty, represented his treasury, foreign affairs, the military, the city guard, domestic affairs, and his head Zagmi, which I gathered had something to do with religion. I smiled and nodded a greeting, hoping that Hili could provide me with a list of names to memorize later when I wasn't so overwhelmed.

  "And this is my most treasured advisor, the sister of my father, Ahatki Ninna. Since my parents journeyed to the Gateway of the Gods, Ninna has been as a mother to me." Tam looked down with real affection at the woman seated next to him. She reached over and squeezed his hand before turning her attention to me, a curious smile on her face.