Star Angel: Prophecy

by David G. McDaniel

  “This is Erius,” she brought Zac into the stables, to the stall where the great horse, her companion through so many phases of her adventure on that world, waited impatiently. Erius sensed her approach, and as he saw her coming he bobbed his head and snorted.

  Together she and Zac stepped into the stall and Zac reached a hand to stroke the long bridge of Eriuses’ forehead.

  “Hello,” he said to him.

  Erius whinnied and nuzzled Zac’s palm, then stuck his nose to Zac’s face. Zac squinted patiently as Erius probed his eyes, mouth and cheeks with his snout. The towering Erius and Zac were nearly eye to eye, and with the tallness of Zac as a reference Jess was more impressed than ever with Eriuses’ size. He really was a frickin big horse.

  “He’s happy to see you,” she said, laughing at Eriuses’ enthusiastic welcome. In her time together with Erius she thought often of Zac, and she knew the great steed recognized Zac as the one who was her greatest human friend, the one she could trust more than any and who would protect her always. Concepts Erius himself could understand, and appreciate.

  Zac ran both hands along Eriuses’ jaw and stroked his snout, showing him the same degree of attention. “You’re big,” he told him, and for a fleeting instant Jess wondered if Zac could muster the same sort of empathy she could. Could he make ideas known to animals? Could he sense their perceptions of the world around them? For her, after learning telepathy, “communicating” with Erius had not been a stretch. Zac took to the telepathy as easily as she. Could he do this as well?

  But she didn’t bring it up. If what she was witnessing was any indication, Zac was already more or less doing it. Zac and Erius shared her in common, the man and the horse that had each been her guardian, her protector, who carried her, who delivered her, who’d been the rock to her efforts, the strength that let her do what she needed to do …

  From what she was seeing they were communicating just fine.

  Erius turned his attention to her and decided to investigate her face as well. His gentle breath was warm and tender where he nuzzled her with his velvety-wet nose, giving gentle little snorts of approval. Unexpectedly he dropped his head and stuck his nose right to her belly, and she got the sense that he knew. There would be a child, he saw, and she saw his perception, where until then he hadn’t made notice, and he was, amazingly for a horse, proud.

  Jess almost cried again. A horse knew she was pregnant, just by whatever sense he had of it, and he was proud of her, incredibly, and, for a difficult moment, she was overwhelmed with the purity of it. And, of course, Erius sensed that too, and he raised his snout from her belly and back to her face and pressed his nose to hers and gave her the sense that he understood. That it was okay to be happy and that she should be happy, without reservation, and dammit now the tears came. And as Zac saw all this, knowing something transpired between girl and horse but uncertain what, she filled in the blank.

  “He knows I’m pregnant,” she said and wiped away the few little trickles. Suddenly it made her laugh, and Erius kissed her again then pulled back his head, rising to his full height.

  Zac nodded, understanding. “I think animals can tell things like that.”

  There were still no signs for a human to see—other than the fact that she kept getting emotional for no reason. She wiped away more tears. Not even a little bump, not anything, too early for any of that, but she was with child and, she thought, whoever that child would be, he had most definitely joined them.

  Jess reached and stroked Eriuses’ strong jaw, then put her other hand on Zac’s cheek, looking tenderly at them both, then lowered her hands and she and Zac said goodbye and left to continue their stroll. Out in the outer courtyard they went up steps to the higher ramparts, there to lean on the outer wall in the fresh air and look out over the spectacular, plunging views. Like a fairytale, all of it, and it was weird each time Jess thought of it: she’d built this castle way back when, and she still had no idea why. There was no real significance to it, of that much she was at least sure, and so it had become a bit of a mystery. Her conclusion was that the castle was simple vanity. Not all things had to have an absolute, practical purpose. Sometimes, many times, you did things just because.

  Only, a castle?

  From her current perspective that seemed an incredible, over the top “just because”, but maybe back then, with the resources available, it wasn’t much different than an impractical, expensive pair of shoes. Hard to justify but easy to do.

  Either way she was enjoying it, and she had a feeling she got just as much pleasure from it way back when as she was getting from it now.

  Earlier that day Zac met Cheops, and some of the other Fist, Jess translating their conversations from Kel to English, and Zac, as always, hit it off famously with everyone, despite the language barrier—and in fact had them laughing almost immediately even through her translations. And though Jess told them nothing of Zac’s power and little of his background, she got the feeling Cheops and the others sensed he was a warrior like no other. Their respect was clear.

  “Something’s been bugging me,” he said during a quiet moment. There was a stiff breeze, the roaring waterfall out of sight but adding volume to the air.

  She brushed hair from her face, hooked the strands behind an ear and waited for him to continue.

  “I never foresaw that any of this would happen,” he said. “Not like you. I never knew what was supposed to happen. I never had my own prophecy,” he smiled. “Yet, at the same time, so much of this isn’t really a surprise. At each step things keep feeling like, a little like …” he fished for a word.

  She knew what he meant.

  “Déjà vu?”

  “Yeah. Wait. What’s that?”

  She laughed. “It’s French.”

  “French? Like the boutique in Spain? The one that sold the Italian clothes?”

  She laughed again. “Yeah. It means something like ‘already seen’. It’s when you experience something and can swear you’ve been there or done that before.”

  He nodded. “Like that.”

  “I get that too,” she agreed and leaned further over the wall, soaking up the view.

  He leaned with her. “I mean, when I first saw the Reaver, for example, parked there in that cave …”

  “You felt like you’d seen it before?”

  He looked to her from the side. “You too?”

  She nodded.

  “My shock was so different than expected,” Zac was trying to understand it. “Only after I saw it did I realize I should’ve had a completely different reaction. I was shocked by it, yes, but not in the way I should’ve been. It was a little scary. Like finding your own grave or something.”

  She could relate. She took his hand and turned her gaze to the placid lake far below. Beautiful blue beneath a clear sky, snow-capped peaks framing it and stretching off into the distance. Deep green forests covered the slopes and the rolling hills to either side. Soaring above it all the giant blue mother planet dominated the horizon as always, far too big to be real; such spectacular blues, blending into the pale blue sky and the deep blue lake below, a vivid fantasy painting come to life.

  How strange and improbable it all was.

  And yet, as Zac said, so familiar.

  **

  The fireplace crackled warmly, radiating its soothing comfort against the cool night air. Jess stood on the balcony at the railing, the warmth of it at her back as it seeped through the open doorway. Her princess room within, the stunning view of fairytale lands without.

  Zac walked onto the balcony behind her. She sensed his approach more than heard it. He walked up and hugged her from behind, kissed the top of her head and wrapped his arms protectively around her. She pressed into him, leaning her head back against his chest.

  Together they gazed ahead, breadth of their vision consumed by the horizon spanning Erius.

  “When I met Galfar,” she said, raising her hands to hold his where they circled beneath her breasts, “an
d he took me on our journey, before I had the whole picture … before I figured out who I was, when those memories were still buried deep … just the sight of it hurt my head.” She gazed at the giant mother planet. “I remember one day it was in front of us the whole day and it nearly drove me crazy. I assumed, then, it was because it was just so impossibly big and it didn’t add up, and maybe that was part of it, but now I realize it was probably that inner awareness. Screaming at me to wake up and remember where I was. A place I knew, and that I should be paying attention. Slowly I did wake up, and eventually I saw the truth.

  “It’s been a rocket ride ever since.”

  Scudding clouds had begun to move in, over the castle, and as they drifted overhead the wind picked up. It was going to rain.

  “I can’t believe I’m standing here with you,” Zac said. The feel of his voice through his chest, against the back of her head, sent a thrill through her. “I feel like we’ve finally made it,” he said. “So much is still ahead of us, but for some reason I feel like we’re finally ready to get started. It’s like, I feel like I can finally have hope. We’re finally near the end and we can finally be together. Really together.”

  She turned in his arms and they kissed. No sense of the transition, Zac’s lips to hers, kissing tenderly, softly, kiss after kiss, brief hesitations between each, pulling back ever so slightly and kissing again, just kissing, and it was wonderful, and as the wind picked up and the smell of rain grew she was reminded of the dream, of being on that very balcony in a downpour, vividly recalling she and Zac, then Aesha with her Kel lover, warrior, co-conspirator, kissing for the last time in the thundering rain, and as that past and this present and the unknown future washed over her, embroiling her in waves of the infinite, the wild variable of the stream of time, she found herself swept away, in his embrace and falling, and as her knees weakened and he held her steady, kissing her, they were moving inside and he brought her into the warm room, even as outside the clouds in the night sky opened and rain began to fall.

  He took her to the thick rug at the center of the room and stood looking into her eyes. The fire crackled close, soothingly, rain outside beginning to fall harder, rising to a mesmerizing beat against the balcony.

  They undressed.

  Slowly, each alone then joining again in their embrace. As they came together she lifted his stiff erection and pressed against him, hard between them and straining, arms around the small of his back, her own arched and looking up, breasts brushing lightly across his firm stomach, just below his chest; Zac, so hard everywhere. She tingled with the electric contact, pulse racing with the oh-so-powerful feel of him, virile and ready against her, tactile outline pressed upward against her stomach; so perfect, so clear, a stiff impression that made her work to get her heartbeat under control. Zac was always virile, always ready, never tiring. She imagined any girl would die to have a living, breathing boyfriend like him.

  His ice-blue eyes twinkled above her in the firelight, skin accentuated by the glow. Handsome, almost too perfect, dark eyebrows exquisitely framing those wonderful eyes. He reached and touched the angel choker at her neck, the only thing she wore, the thing she would always wear. She laid a palm on his cheek, feeling his beard, and … giggled. He turned up one corner of his mouth, not knowing why she giggled but knowing how much she loved him, how much he loved her, and whatever amused her was not important. Only that she was happy.

  She rubbed his cheek and kept her hand there, lost in his gaze. Outside the rain fell harder.

  It was just that he looked too young for such things. In that soft, flickering light the beard was even more pronounced against the youth of his face, his eyes and that gorgeous head of hair … an older teenager, he was, not fitting the manly lumberjack of a beard and it was like he wore a costume. She giggled again, then sighed.

  “I wish we had some of your music,” he smiled at her amusement. He was lost in memories. “I really love your songs.”

  She took her hand from his face and circled it back around the small of his back. Lightly she let her hands drop to rest on the upper curve of his tight little butt. He was practically hairless everywhere else. Just that damn beard.

  “Pete had some good music,” he went on. “Actually, he had some of the same songs you did. I remember one of your albums. Pete had stuff just like you had, plus a bunch more. Seems like that’s mostly what he listens to.”

  Even though Jess had only known Pete a short time she had a pretty clear idea of the sorts of things he would listen to.

  “You remember AC/DC?” Zac asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Pete had them. I like their stuff. Back in Black was my favorite. You ever hear that one?”

  She nodded. “Oh yeah.” Classic.

  Zac looked as if he were recalling it; playing it in his mind. He bit his lip in mild concentration, nodding his head, tapping the opening with his foot. Then, quietly, looking over her into the distance: “Back in black, I hit the sack, It’s been too long I’m glad to be back,” she felt his hands at her back, making subtle guitar-playing motions, “Yes I’m let loose, from the noose, that’s kept me hangin’ about,” strumming her butt with one hand, fingering the frets at the small of her back with the other. That, too, made her giggle.

  He shrugged as he played. “It spoke to me.”

  She made a little “huh?!” face but he didn’t see, concentrating as he was on the song and its deeper meaning. She couldn’t tell if he was being serious. He could be such a goof sometimes.

  “Back in Black spoke to you?”

  He simply nodded, head-banging gently to the riffs, in his own world.

  She laughed.

  “You’re crazy.”

  He smiled and she could see he probably was joking—but that he also got something out of it. He liked it.

  “I’m not saying it would be good for right now,” he stopped goofing and pulled her tighter, giving her a fresh reminder of what waited; pulsing, she could swear, pressed upward and touching against her breasts; full and strong, not flagging even a little—even through the ridiculous conversation, the air guitar, the meandering thoughts ... ready.

  Zac was truly a machine.

  He leaned and kissed her, then spoke softly, face to face. “Music is so universal. It’s like a higher order harmonic. Like, much closer to our real selves. It’s so much a part of us. More even than language or writing or … anything, really. Music communicates to anyone, any living thing. It’s like … aesthetics. Beauty, harmony, the wavelengths of sound …

  “Music is the closest thing to who we truly are.”

  She grinned at him. “You’re sure alcohol has no effect on you?” They’d had a little wine earlier. Not much.

  “Sorry. That’s a little philosophical, I know. But don’t you agree?”

  She nodded. “I do. We know what we are, Zac, and you’re right. Music resonates with that deeper self. It could even be a form of communication, as you say. Probably, maybe, truly enlightened we could convey all sorts of things with music, with harmony.”

  Now who was philosophizing.

  But he was looking deeply into her eyes. “On Earth it’s like you get that,” he said. “Music is so much a part of life there. The variety is amazing. Anitra has music, sure, but it’s all so formal. Even in Venatres lands. Earth culture is rich.” Then, wistfully: “We should make Earth our home.”

  She swallowed. “We will.” It was all she could think to say.

  Part of her wanted to continue the casual conversation, to make a few more funny comments and take their time, as seemed to be his intent, to follow his lead and go slow, but her heart had begun once more to race.

  With a hard swallow she tried to hold his gaze. Zac was an old soul, like her, a million years of experience—more—that need only be remembered. Together they were close, so much closer than even the most ardent lovers, and as her awareness shifted to that higher plain she experienced him, felt him—a fusion of the flesh, those staggerin
g depths of existence; a soul-piercing sense of who, of what they truly were, flooding every corner of her soul—out of nowhere—and with a sudden, shuddering rush, that potent combination rolled, knocking her free of any tethers to the physical and she was floating, and he was there, holding her, pushing harder against her and filling the space between. As strong, as powerful, as timeless as was she. Zac was her equal, truly; two halves of one incredible whole, and as she felt the rush of that, more strongly than she ever had, he spoke directly into that cresting wave of potential.

  His eyes had become all she saw. All else vague physical perception; peripheral awareness; a sensation that defied description.

  He was with her like no one ever could be.

  he echoed the very thing she experienced,

  She reached and took him to the rug. Brought him into her with a shuddering groan and lay him all the way to his back on the thick fur. She put her hands on his chest and settled deeper, as deep as she could, biting back the rush, the intensity of him, all of him, deeper and still more, pushing as far as she could, expanding, Zac filling her with a raging storm. To the top of her skull and the tip of every finger and every toe it surged, a full-body high that made her swoon, and as she pressed further the fullness of him strained harder, pressing outward from within, and she was exploding, and for a moment she simply held herself steady, experiencing him. They were one, and she looked down on him and he was looking up at her, with the same intensity, emotions enveloping them, and it was heaven. Time flowed, it paused and it held, it rushed, and she loved him, more than anyone could ever love another; the whole scene, the whole everything a dream, every piece of that setting a mirror of every perfect romantic story ever told, and as she transcended all things in that incredible fairytale come to life, a princess in her own castle, her prince a boy of sheer perfection …