by C. L. Roman
He shook his head slightly, “No, don’t give the bat-toothed craven that much credit. The statue was small, even on the table the top of it only came to my waist and I was the closest to it. Only natural that—” he stopped, biting back a scream as Jotun went after a larger fragment, sliding it free with a grimace of mixed anxiety and satisfaction.
“Drink this,” Danae said in the same no-nonsense tone she would have used in giving a toddler a dose of fever-cease. Fomor shook his head and would have refused, but she would not be denied. “Every piece has to be taken out and we can’t work with you flinching and yelping every time we touch you. Drink this.”
He reached up a blood soaked hand and cradled her cheek so gently that she closed her eyes and turned her face to kiss his palm. She would not cry right now, she would not. The salt taste of his blood was on her tongue as she held the vial of poppy juice to his lips. Her mouth tingled as if she were the one drinking the pain relieving elixir and she breathed a sigh of relief as he slipped back into unconsciousness.
“The amount I gave him would keep a human under for a full day. I don’t know how long it will hold him.”
“We need to work fast then,” Jotun replied.
An hour later the last chunk of metal dropped into the bowl with a satisfying crunch and the two surgeons sat back on their heels, sighing almost in unison.
“You look as if someone threw red dye all over you,” Danae observed dryly.
“Me?” Jotun attempted a weary chuckle, “You look as if you’ve taken a blood bath.”
Danae reached one slender hand up to scratch her ear, smearing the side of her face with new gore in the process. “Well, regardless of what we look like, we seem to have gotten them all.”
The lieutenant shook his head doubtfully. “We won’t know for sure for a couple of days. If any of the fragments went deeper than we were able to reach…” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
Danae’s smile wobbled, “Then we will have to pray we got them all. In the meantime we need to get him to our home, where I can bathe him and get him into bed before he wakes up.”
“Too late for that,” Fomor interjected with a weak grin. “But if you two are finished gossiping, I could use a hand.” He struggled into a sitting position despite the protests clamoring all around him. “You sound like a flock of crows,” he said. With a groan he gained his feet, leaning heavily on Jotun for support. He looked down at Danae, still kneeling on the ground in front of him. “Come along wife. I think you mentioned something about a bath and bed, and truth is, I find myself terribly weary.”
“I’ve no idea why that should be,” her voice dripped sarcasm as she stood, placing her hand in the one he held out to her. “It’s not like you were just stabbed fifty or sixty times – no, only twenty or thirty at the most. I…”
Her legs buckled and she nearly fell, caught herself, managed to stay on her feet. “No, no, I’m fine, just a little unsteady after kneeling so long,” she insisted as Adahna and Gwyneth rushed to her side. Her head felt light enough to float off her shoulders, but she tried to shake it off. Why was her heart pounding so? She needed to go home.
“We do need to get home though, I’m sure the bread is burned by now.” She took several steps away from them toward the village path. What is that sound? It reminds me of something. She stumbled. Catching herself again, but less easily, she half turned, “Fomor, is that Nera crying?” she asked, and collapsed into his arms, tumbling them both into the dirt.
“Danae,” he cried, “Jotun, her skin – she’s so hot.”
Jotun placed a light hand on the unconscious woman’s cheek. “It’s as if she’s burning from the inside. We need to cool her down.”
Staggering to his feet, Fomor lifted Danae in his arms.
“Fomor, you are too weak. Let me take her,” Adahna stepped up, opening her arms, but Fomor shook his head.
“Take her where?” Jotun asked.
“The pools,” he said, then turned and was gone in a blur of speed.
***
A white hot glow pressed against her eyelids. She was burning, burning from the inside. From her right a cooling breeze drifted across her skin and she turned to it eagerly. She needed to open her eyes. Someone was calling – who?
She opened her eyes with difficulty and managed to look around her at an unfamiliar forest. Naked, she stood on the edge of a glade. The ring of gargantuan green trees surrounding the clearing was so tightly grown as to resemble a wall more than individual entities. There was no question in her mind that these sentinels must have stood since the third day of creation to have attained such size.
Bird song floated on bright shafts of sunlight. Long bladed, soft grass spread across the open space at her feet with no path to divide it. In the center of the glade lived a tree, massive and evenly proportioned, shining here and there with round, golden fruit. A spray of gnarled roots fanned out from its base. She heard water and saw a spring bubbling up between the roots into a small pond surrounded by moss covered stones.
She stood at the only break in the tree circle, and though she saw no one, she knew she was not alone. She stared at the pool. The water looked cool and inviting – sweet, even, though she did not know how that last could be so. Thirst crawled along her throat, but an unnamed dread pinned her feet to the path end. Heat flowed out from her core, encircled her inside an ever shrinking bubble of flame. She must drink or burn to death.
Danae lifted one foot and stepped out hesitantly onto the meadow. The feeling of dread grew, pushing her back even as her need pushed forward. Her skin shrank into the flesh beneath it, drying and cracking. She took another step, then another, each quicker than the last until she was running, hurtling toward the pond, flames trailing behind, burning without consuming her flesh. Reaching the water, she fell into it body and soul, gulping down the healing liquid and sighing with relief as the flames cooled.
“Better come out now daughter. Even the water of life may be overdone.” The voice was gentle and amused, but its effect on Danae was immediate and terrorizing. Shivering, she shrank back against the trunk of the great tree, trying vainly to cover herself.
“Here now, what reason have I given you to fear me?”
The person held out a hand to her and Danae forgot, for a moment, her lack of clothes. Who – what – is this being? Tall and slender, dressed in soft robes of white linen tied with a scarlet cord, the Other seemed at once old and young, male and female. The face was unlined, but the eyes spoke of ageless wisdom. The body was athletic, but supple and graceful in every movement. The features were strongly molded yet beautiful at the same time.
“Ah, trying to categorize me I see,” the Other chuckled. “You children will be trying to do that for eons, I fear. A byproduct of Adam having to name all those animals I suppose. Here, let me help you out of there. You’re well steeped by now and we mustn’t over do.” The last was said kindly, but in a tone that had Danae accepting the proffered assistance without further delay.
“Who are you?” the girl asked, torn between the desire to know, and the fear of knowing.
The Other looked at her intently for a moment, “Another question you children will be forever answering, and often incorrectly, even though I’ve told you the truth a thousand times.” Sadness shadowed the beautiful face for a moment before the glowing eyes peered into hers again. “You know who I am,” the Other said at last, and Danae’s legs gave out beneath her.
“Here now, let’s dispense with the formalities shall we? Entirely appropriate of course, but you’ve very little time and we have a great deal to discuss, you and I, not to mention a couple of very important things to do.”
Suddenly and acutely aware once more of her nakedness; Danae looked around her desperately for something with which to cover herself. Shame engulfed her now as surely as the flames had a few moments before, but with far greater heat.
The Other sighed heavily. “When will you children learn not to hide from me?” Dan
ae said nothing, turning her face away instead. “However, since you cannot be comfortable otherwise—” Her companion spoke a word she did not understand and she felt the sudden, soft weight of linen against her skin.
“How…” Danae was unsure what she meant to ask. Questions blazed through her mind, too quick and insubstantial to grasp, let alone voice.
The Other smiled again. “How indeed? You always want to know the how, when the why is far more important. Ah well, baby steps, as they will say. Now, for the first lesson. You’ll not be comfortable out of body for much longer and you’ve much to learn. Look into the water.”
She stared until her companion made an insistent gesture. Then she turned quickly and looked into the rippled surface of the spring. At first she saw nothing but water, but after a moment, the water went completely still and she saw the faces of those she loved. She whispered their names as they passed before her eyes. Here was Fomor standing over a sheet wrapped form, his face tight with grief and worry. Her mother, weeping as she soaked sheets in water crowded with blocks of some bluish white substance that Danae had never seen before.
“These are images of the present. Look deeper, daughter.”
Uncertain as to what was meant by these words, Danae concentrated on looking past the surface of the water. She was quickly rewarded with images of her father as he had been at her wedding, smiling and happy. She saw her sisters, dancing with their new husbands. These pleasant pictures were not memories. She was not present in any of them. A moment later the images were darker; Nera outside a cave in her hidden valley. She turned her head towards the sound of weeping. She called Danae’s name and walked toward the cave entrance.
“Nera, no!” Danae reached out a hand to snatch her sister back from danger but encountered only water.
“You cannot change what has been Danae.” Sorrow colored the Other’s voice. She felt a touch on her shoulder, oddly comforting, and drew back her hand. The water stilled and more images followed; events she had been told of but had not witnessed passed before her eyes in minute detail. Finally, the Other spoke again. “Enough, child. Much may be learned from the past but our time grows short. Look deeper now.”
Again the woman concentrated, sending her gaze to the bottom of the spring. Here she saw terrible things. A great black temple rose from the center of a village. She saw women raped and children sacrificed on profane alters. Men struck down their brothers for the contents of their purse. Finally she saw a great tumult of wind and waves and water falling in heaving torrents from the sky. A corpse drifted by with staring eyes and arms out flung in supplication. She fell back from the spring gasping, her head spinning.
“It is enough,” said the gentle voice. “Rest now and we shall meet again.”
Danae looked up at the being she had no name for, staring until the world went black.
***
The low buzz of conversation struck at eardrums already throbbing with sensation. Why wouldn’t they just go away? Her head hurt and she was so hot. She tried to push off the coverings but her hands would not obey her. What were they saying now?
“The glow is almost gone and she seems cooler today.”
“Cooler than what? We can’t even lay a dry sheet over her but the fabric starts smoking after a few minutes. I don’t understand how she doesn’t burst into flames.”
“Just keep up the cold compresses. Have you enough ice?”
“Sena and Gant have gone north to get more. It’s a blessing she had seen the stuff in the Shift or we wouldn’t have even that.”
“She hasn’t woken at all?”
“No. She raves sometimes, calls for me, for her mother, for Nera sometimes, but she hasn’t opened her eyes since we brought her out of the pools.”
She was too hot. She needed these blankets off of her. She tried again to push them aside, but couldn’t lift the weight that threatened to consume her. Fomor would help her. She called to him, “Please, please take them off, please.”
“Hush love, soon now, it will be better soon.” She wept as she felt him turn away and his voice roughened, “This sheet is nearly dry, we need to change it.”
“No problem, here is the ice.”
The wet heat lifted away replaced momentarily by a breeze that was cool in comparison, but not cool enough and then a blessedly cold weight settled over her and she let the black take her under.
***
Seated on a mossy stone, Danae looked around the clearing. The trees were crowned in multicolored splendor now, gold and bronze and scarlet. As before, she could see no one, but knew she was not alone. Guided by past experience, she waited, grateful that this time she was not burning, or naked.
“Ah, I see you are recovering well.” The voice was gentle, but with an underlying authority that she could not deny.
Danae looked up into those glowing eyes and had to reach for her courage with both hands. “I have so many questions,” she said.
“I know. But in truth, there is little enough that you do not already know. If you will trust to the knowledge I have placed inside you, most of your questions will be answered.”
“But—”
“You want to know my name, my age, whether I am male or female as you understand it,” a warm chuckle took the sting from the words. “Funny how that last one seems to be the one you are most concerned with when, really, it’s one of the least important. Why don’t you just say I’m neither and both. It’s closer to the truth than picking one or the other. But really, we’ve more important things to discuss. Here, take this and eat.”
Her companion held out a small plate and she took it automatically. On it were three slices of golden fruit. Danae looked up at the tree above her, startled and uneasy. “Is this…”
“Trust me child. Eat.”
The words were a command and Danae obeyed. The fruit smelled intoxicatingly of the green earth and living things. She placed the first slice in her mouth and almost fainted with pleasure. Juice, sweet as spring and first love, bathed her tongue and trickled down her throat. Eagerly she took up the second slice, grimacing in surprise and pain as its bitter taste coated her mouth. It was as if she had eaten ashes and she longed for water to rinse her mouth, but the Other shook his head so that she took up the last piece and placed it reluctantly in her mouth. Once again, she was surprised. A new flavor, equal in pleasure to the first, burst across her tongue like undiluted joy and unending life combined.
“And now, the questions. No,” when Danae would have interrupted, her companion silenced her with a look, “not the ones you want to ask, but the ones you need to ask.” The Other settled onto a rock by the spring and pulled Danae down beside her.
“First, you know that you are not currently in your body?” The Other arched an eyebrow in enquiry and Danae nodded slowly in hesitant agreement. “How that works is a question for another time. What is important is that you realize that, from this point forward you will have, as they will say, “a foot in both worlds.” Silly, really, to put it that way since it’s all part and parcel of the same thing.”
Danae looked at him with baffled eyes, “A foot in both worlds? I don’t understand. There is only one world.”
The glowing eyes narrowed in frank appraisal, “Yes,” he approved, “You are quite right, even if you don’t understand what you mean. There is only one world, but there are many facets, and, in the usual course of things, humans can see only the temporal or physical aspect. You, on the other hand, will be able to perceive far more than others of your species. Absorbing angel blood will do that to you.”
“Absorbing? But I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did dear one,” she interrupted. “You didn’t mean to, certainly you didn’t do anything wrong, but many of the tissues of your body are made to absorb the outside materials they come in contact with. Your eyes, your lips, your skin – all are means of entry into your body.”
Flashes of memory shot through Danae’s mind. Fomor lying on the ground, a dozen wounds flowing w
ith his life’s blood. Her own hands covered in gore, brushing across her face, touching her mouth, the corner of her eye.
The Other nodded serenely, “Yes, I see you understand. Blood is life. For you it is doubly so.” He waited as Danae struggled to absorb his words.
“So, what does this mean? Will I die?”
The Other threw back his head and roared with laughter. “I do love you child. To couple the most important with the least important question is so – so you!” He sighed and sobered. “I will answer the lesser of the two first. No, child, quite the opposite in fact. The blood alone might have killed you, burned through your body like fire through summer grass, but the water,” he gestured to the spring, “has quenched that aspect. Also, I have fed you from the Tree, and in so doing ended your mortality. Given the right circumstances, you will never die.”
It was too much. The black rushed in, swallowed the glade whole, and Danae with it.
***
Time passed – hours, days, she couldn’t tell. Her own thoughts eluded her, slipping wet and colorless into the distance before she could grasp them. Sensation remained. It was dark, too hot, she was sweating. Using an arm that felt as if it were made of living stone, she pushed back the damp sheet and gave a sigh of relief. It was still too warm, but better. The small exertion exhausted her and she slipped easily back under the black.
***
“This is the last time you will see me here you know.” The Other leaned comfortably against the center tree, now bare of leaf and fruit, its branches reaching naked fingers to grey cloaked sky.
She nodded, believing him without hesitation. “You tell me I cannot die and call it the less important question. Will you answer my first question now?” she asked.
“What does it mean?” She nodded. “Oh yes, the important question. You have taken angel blood which has been quenched by the water of life. Added to the heritage you already possess from your father, you are more nearly angel, now, than human.” He paused as Danae made a gesture, half confusion, half distress, but she asked no questions and he continued.
