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The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 01

By: Nyasia



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"Truth, like beauty, survives and thrives in the light of day.

Lies live in the darkness, moldering and corrupting all they touch."

- A Fool's Book of Wisdom

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Chapter One -- Truth

Cliché though it may be, it was a dark and stormy night that Erik ran away from his mother's home. He knew that if he stayed the man that visited his mother would convince her to send him away to the mental institution. And, that was something he vowed he would never allow.

Although a genius, he was still only a boy of nine years and he had lived a sheltered life. Having a mother that truly belonged in a mental institution and an absent father had not prepared Erik for the reality of life outside his mother's attic. The few times he snuck out of the house and visited the town, he found the people there to be savage and cruel. He knew he wore the face of a monster, but Erik also knew that within his chest beat the heart of a human being.

"Why can no one see who I am? Is there no one who can see me? Shall I always be a monstrous being forced to hide behind a mask?"

The boy's impassioned words went unanswered by the tempest that raged about him. Erik placed his hand to his face and held his mask in place as the ferocity of the wind threatened to whip it from his face.

'And,' thought the boy, 'that would never do.'

The tree roots seemed to tangle with his feet purposefully attempting to trip him and the branches clutched and clawed at his clothing.

'If I do not get inside my clothing will soon be in tatters. I need to find someplace out of the storm, someplace safe.'

As if in answer to his silent plea, Erik caught sight of a small flickering light in the distance. Not seeing that he really had any other choice, the boy directed his faltering feet towards it.

'Please? If there is a God, please help me. I have never asked for anything from you before, but if you are there, please help me now. I am just a boy.'

A blue-white streak of lightning flashed down from the heavens, illuminating the stick-thin child, which scrambled through the forest. Too tall for his nine years, too thin with too pale skin, his face reflexively turned up to gape at the bolt streaking across the heavens. Another flash glistened off the water, which beaded on the surface of the porcelain face he wore as a mask. While the slender body quite obviously belonged to a boy, the face he wore was that of a beautiful girl. If someone had taken the time for a closer inspection, they would have discovered that the boy's face was a mask. In actuality, he used the face of a large porcelain doll to mask his features. The sides of the face carefully rounded to remove any sharp edges and five delicate holes pierced the eyes, nostrils and mouth for obvious reasons.

Thunder boomed about the boy and brought him out of his stupor. He once again began his journey towards the light. Another crash of lightning followed by the boom of thunder startled the boy with its closeness and he tripped on a tree root. He fell forward with a cry. He twisted as he fell, hitting his head on the trunk of the tree to whom the roots belonged. The next flash of lightning revealed the crumpled form of the boy lying still beneath the tree.

And the rain continued to pelt the still form.

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Helen hurried through the forest. Her anger escalated with each splash of rain upon her already drenched cloak. She had known that a storm was brewing, but her responsibilities required certain things of her. However, she hoped she would be able to finish her work and return home before the rain began. She had underestimated the time she needed and now, found herself very annoyed at finding herself caught in the torrent, which now soaked her to the bone.

"Of all the stupid things! After all these years I would think I would be able to judge the proper time, I need to perform the ritual! But, no! I just had to have that one last cup of tea and then that extra biscuit! I must be getting soft in the head ...."

The woman ranted as she walked, pausing to wipe an errant rivulet of water that ran into her eye. Lightning sparked across the sky and fate intervened as the woman's eyes caught sight of the still form sprawled atop the gnarled roots of the old oak.

"Merde! Now what?"

She bent and turned over the still form.

"Mon Dieu! What on earth is a child doing out here on a night like this? A child wearing a mask? Hmmm .... Well, there is no such thing as coincidence, so now fate reveals why I must walk in this god-forsaken weather. Well, I see no way around this and no help in sight." She paused and shook the limp form. "Boy! Wake up! Boy?"

She groaned, as her ministrations received no response.

"Damnez-le! Very well, Helen. Stop cursing and get busy. He needs help not your swearing."

The woman gently lifted the boy into her arms, marveling at the lightness of his frame. She hoisted him over her shoulder and resumed her trek through the woods muttering curses as she walked.

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Warmth and a wonderfully comfortable softness were the first sensations Erik noticed as his mind slowly made its way back into the world of the living.

"A bed? How did I get into a bed? I was walking through the woods ...."

The next sensation, which registered in his consciousness, was a throbbing in the back of his head. He moaned softly.

"Well, it is about time, young master. I thought you might decide to sleep through the entire day."

A pleasant female voice sounded to Erik's side and his head turned towards the sound causing the throbbing to increase and the world to spin.

"Now, now! Not so quickly! You have quite a nasty lump on the back of your head. You may wish to reconsider the next time you decide to take a stroll through the woods in the dark during a storm. Either that or carry a lantern with you. Heads are not made to meet trees in such a manner."

The voice sounded agreeable and amused. Erik found himself enjoying listening to the person speak, but as he began to relax, he suddenly realized he could feel the touch of air on his face. At this realization, he cried out and raised his hands to cover himself. The voice chuckled.

"Oh, really, young master, you must calm yourself. I see no reason why we must hide from one another. If you would just open your eyes ... do it slowly ... yes, you see? Helen is not the famous Helen of Troy. I have not a face that would launch a thousand ships, but one that would sink them. No. Young master, you have no need to wear that horribly heavy thing. You must rest and recover your strength. Are you hungry, boy?"

Erik slowly opened his eyes and looked into a pair of pale blue eyes, which seemed surrounded by a mass of wrinkled flesh. He blinked and watched as an opening appeared in her face with a mouthful of crooked teeth. He slowly brought his hands up and rubbed his eyes. He studied the face of the woman with the beautiful voice. She was old, ancient. Her face was round and appeared so wrinkled that the folds of flesh hid even her eyebrows from view. Her nose was wide and flat, the tip hung almost touching her upper lip.

"Who are you?" The boy tentatively inquired.

The place that Erik assumed was the woman's mouth seemed to lift into a smile.

"I am Madame Helen and this is my home. I found you lying in the woods. Your head seems to have done battle with a tree root and I believe you lost, but you are awake now and will soon be good as new. All right now. Enough questions from you for now, young master. I have two questions for you. Are you hungry is the first and the second is, what is your name?"

The boy settled back into the pillows and a small smile began to grace his lips.

"Firstly, oui, Madame. I am very hungry. Secondly, my name is Erik."

The woman's smile grew larger.

"Very good, Erik. Here is what I believe we should do. I shall bring you a bowl of soup, which I recommend you eat. Then, you shall sleep again. I believe that by tomorrow morning you shall be well enough for us to decide what to do next. Is this plan acceptable to you?"

The boy nodded shyly and smiled.

"Oui, Madame. Merci. That plan sounds wonderful."

"Good! I do believe that fortune smiled upon us last night. And, from the looks of you, I would say that it was high time that it did. Now, soup and then sleep. Tomorrow, we talk."

The boy carefully nodded, wincing at the pain in the back of his head. He raised his hand to his face and quickly glanced at the old woman shuffling across the room.

'Am I truly awake? She gazes upon my hideous face as if there were nothing wrong with it. Her face is not that bad and yet, she compares it to mine. I wonder if she ....'

His thoughts abruptly end as the woman places a tray containing a bowl of soup, a hunk of bread with butter and a steaming mug of tea on his lap.

"Enough thinking, Erik. Eat. Plenty of time for serious thoughts tomorrow. For now, eat!"

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Author's Note

Welcome to my first work of fiction submitted to Literotica!

Hope you like this story. It has been a long time in finding its way from my mind through my fingers and on into words. Please join me on this journey and I promise to make it as interesting as I can. While parts of this story contain explicit material, this story is not about sex, so as in life, the sexual interludes are interspersed throughout the story.

Please read, vote and review! Your comments are very important to me.

Fondest wishes,

--ny

The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 02-05



Nyasia A. Maire © 2007 

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Chapter Two – Helen

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Men preach. Women share. Children create.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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Upon waking for the second time in the home of Helen, Erik cautiously opened his eyes and found that his mind felt steadier and his head throbbed considerably less. He yawned and stretched, his slender body moving with a cat-like grace. He looked around the room, allowing his eyes to take in every detail. The room was a simple affair with rough log walls, chinked and then painted with a thick coat of whitewash. There were two windows in the room, but both had coverings of heavy, dark-colored silk brocade draped over them, effectively shutting out any view of the outside world. The sparse furniture fulfilled the utilitarian requirements of a bedroom and nothing more, but Erik felt like royalty after the way he lived in the attic.

"A bed! I have never slept in a bed. I wonder if this is what it would feel like to sleep on a cloud."

He grinned at the ridiculousness of his thought then sighed contentedly and snuggled languidly under the comforter. The boy spent a few moments relishing the unaccustomed comfort then he began to scoot up into a sitting position. He looked down at his hands resting on the bed and the boy frowned.

"Oh, no! I am filthy! Oh, shit!"

The boy looked at the now muddy bedclothes and bit his lower lip.

"Well, I just have to tell Helen that I will wash everything for her. She took me into her home, gave me a bed and food. I need to thank her properly. My mother may be mad, but she did raise her son to have proper manners. I just wish …."

A soft tap at the door interrupted his quiet musing.

"Yes? Come in."

The door latch jiggled for a moment and then the door banged open, swinging so quickly that it struck the wall behind it, bounced off it and then began to close. Helen bustled into the room and turned her backside to the door. It bounced harmlessly off her behind and she waddled into the room carrying a large wooden tray full of steaming bowls and plates of breakfast foods.

"Good morning, Erik! May I tempt you to eat a bit? I thought we could eat in here and talk at the same time. Why, you are looking much better today. Careful, now everything is quite hot, especially the coffee. I hope you like coffee. I only drink tea if it is late at night or for luncheon. Have you ever noticed that coffee always makes a gray day seem brighter? I really do enjoy my cup first thing in the morning. Come to think of it, I enjoy a cup at almost any time of the day or …."  

Erik winced under her verbal onslaught. He raised his hands as if to defend himself from an attack and Helen paused to gawk at him.

"Erik, whatever is the matter with you?"

He blinked, looked at his raised hands, lowered them and then chuckled with obvious embarrassment.

"I … well, I … it is just …."

He stopped, cleared his throat and began again.

"I do apologize Madame Helen, but I am unused to quite so much … uh, um … conversation."

His voice trailed off and his face flushed crimson.

As the woman cackled with delight, her visage wrinkled even more than it had previously.

"Yes," she spat out between guffaws, "I do suppose I talk too much."

The boy shook his head as his eyes widened.

"Oh no, Madame! I simply am not used to people. Nor am I used to anyone wishing to speak with me. I suppose … I hope you shall provide me with the opportunity to become accustomed to it."

He turned his head away from her, but shyly peeked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Nothing would please me more, boy."

A small pleased smile graced the boy's slightly crooked mouth.

"I do believe I would like that as well, Madame. I really must thank you for everything! Oh! And, do not worry about the bedclothes. I shall wash them for you if you show me where I can do it."

"You are most welcome, Erik. We shall take care of that tomorrow. For now, do not worry yourself over it. I think that you should spend the rest of today resting. Your poor head received a rather hard knock and my experience has taught me that rest is the best cure. But now is the time for us to eat! Please, help yourself to whatever catches your fancy!"

The two passed the next half of an hour in companionable silence as they partook of the food Helen provided. When Erik finished, he sighed and careful not to disrupt the tray, stretched with contentment, which caused what Erik began to recognize as a pleased look to grace Helen's face. She removed the tray and without a word, left the room. Sounds of utensils and bowls clanking sounded from the other side of the door, followed by a brief silence before Helen rejoined him.

"Ah! Chores done! Now! If you do not mind, might I inquire what you were doing wandering about the forest in the middle of the night?"

Erik paled and lowered his head to gaze at his tightly clasped hands lying on his lap. He spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.

"I, uh, well, I ran away from home last night."

The woman regarded him for a moment, first cocking her head to one side and then to the other. She nodded slowly.

"And, what are your plans? Where is it that you intend to run? Surely, an intelligent young man such as yourself must have had some idea of where you would go before you left home …."

Erik grimaced.

"No, I did not."

Helen shrugged.

"Well then, the reason for your leaving home must have been dire. I will not question the wisdom of your decision, as you do not seem a foolish child."

The woman seemed to resume her intense consideration of him for a moment before speaking.

"I would like to offer you a proposition … if, that is, you would like to hear it."

The boy raised his eyes from his hands and nodded his head vigorously.

"What would you say to staying, here with me? You could earn your keep by helping me around the house and I could teach you … uh, some things, if you would like. I have been told that I am a very good teacher."

The boy's golden brown eyes shone. Amber sparks flashed within them signaling his happiness.

"Really? You want me to stay here with you. I mean, you are asking me to live here?"

"Yes. Is it really so difficult to believe that I would wish for you to stay? I am not as young as I used to be and having someone to help me would be a blessing. Not to mention that you do not speak much and that would allow me to have someone to listen to me whenever I wish. I do believe I am making the better end of the deal, but then a friend of mine told me that I am quite shrewd and drive a hard bargain. I remember once when I was in Persia, I found a carpet at a stall in the bazaar and the shopkeeper and I almost came to blows bartering over the price. Oh yes, those were the days. I traveled quite frequently when I was younger. Now, I stay here all alone! Old, mad Helen, the forest witch with her potions and premonitions. Fools! Can you believe that the last visitor I had asked me to make him a love potion? Bah! Love potion! Magic can do many things, but it can never make people fall in love. Lust, perhaps, but not love."

The woman's eyes caught sight of the boy's head drooping and chuckled.

"Oh, Erik! What a pair we make. Silence and sound. Youth and crone."

Her smile slipped, her pale blue eyes chilled as she stared intently at the boy's tousled head and masked face. A small frown caused the wrinkled flesh of her face to furrow even deeper. She lifted a hesitant hand to his face and when he did not withdraw, she cupped his unmasked cheek in her hand. She spoke in a gentle, soothing tone. Coaching her voice into an almost hypnotic cadence.

"You have a face, which frightened your mother. You must not allow her to color your perceptions of the world, child. Your mother is a foolish creature! She could not see your true beauty, which lies in your soul. It shall take a bit of work, but I do believe I can help you resurrect it. And, maybe, just maybe, along the way you can help me. I am not certain of it, but I just have this feeling that you shall find her for me. Oh, yes! We shall help one another, Erik and we shall both learn many things along the way. Yes, old Helen, she will teach Erik and she can learn new things, too! Then, I think, you shall help me. Yes, Erik. You shall find exactly what Helen needs and then I can rest, but for now, you need rest and I shall leave you in peace."

The old woman leaned forward and carefully swept a lock of dark hair from the boy's bemused face. As she did, the bracelet she wore on her wrist brushed against his deformed cheek. The boy's eyes flew open and Helen jumped back. Erik gasped and sat bolt upright. He swayed as the room swirled about him. He stared at the woman before him in wonder.

"Helen? Is that you?"

The woman before him smiled sadly and nodded.

"But, you … well, you look … I mean … I am sorry."

He averted his gaze in embarrassment. Helen gently smiled and reached out to the boy. She placed her hand under his chin and turned his head towards her.

"Go ahead, Erik. You may say anything you wish to me. I shall not take offense."

Erik stared at her entranced with his mouth agape, his eyes widened in wonderment.

"How is it possible? Madame, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Even more beautiful than my mother and she is a great beauty."

Her hand unconsciously touched the bracelet clasped about her wrist.

"Thank you, boy. The sight you see before you is one that you see with the eyes of your soul, for that is how your soul sees me. The eyes, which reside within your head, see me quite differently. Those eyes see a wrinkled, old woman. Now, I feel I must show you something, Erik. Something tells me you need to see this. It will only take a moment."

She smiled reassuringly at the boy before turning away. The retreating figure transformed from lithe and graceful to lumpy and inelegant as it glided across the room to the dresser and picked up a hand mirror. She returned to the boy's side and held it out to him.

"Here. Take it."

With trembling hands, he reached out and took the offered mirror. The bracelet once again rubbing against his hand as he accepted the mirror.

"Now, look into the mirror and tell me what you see."

He raised frightened eyes to kind ones.

"Please! No! I know what I shall see. I do not wish to see the monster. It makes me have nightmares. I will look tomorrow, but not now, I would like to rest. I am feeling very tired and my head hurts. I promise I will look tomorrow. Please?"

His voice pleaded, but she repeated firmly.

"Erik, look into the mirror."

Hesitantly, he raised the mirror and peeked into its depths.

"But …. But, how?" He stammered.

The boy began to gasp for breath and he flung the mirror across the room where it shattered against the wall.

"It is not possible! The mirror lies! I saw me and I had a whole face!" He cried.

Helen nodded.

"That is how I see you as well, Erik. The image in the mirror is real and true. Mirrors do not lie."

Seeing his anguish, she decided not to press the subject.

"I am sorry that I caused you distress. I did not mean for this to happen so soon and I apologize. It was never my intention to upset you, but …. Well, all things happen for a reason whether I ken it or no. There are no coincidences, no mistakes. We are well met, Erik."

The woman's words faded into a buzz in his mind as he attempted to justify the image he had seen in the mirror with the one he had seen in his mother's mirror. His thoughts whirled, which only added to his confusion and he felt the icy grip of panic take hold of him. He began to shake his head wildly back and forth.

"Oh, Erik, please you must calm yourself!"

She sat on the bed, took the trembling child into her arms and rocked him. Her beautiful voice sang a sweet song and after a time, the boy's quivering ceased and he fell into a dreamless sleep. Helen carefully extricated herself from the boy and slipped from the room, muttering curses at herself for her carelessness.

"Damn it! Poor thing was not ready for that. Hell! Most adults I meet are not ready, but he will learn. Oh, yes! Helen will help Erik learn to see the truth of what lies within."

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Chapter Three – Recriminations

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Talk – a four letter word. Hear – a four letter word. Love – a four letter word with infinite meaning.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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"Stupid, stupid woman! He is but a child and you already twist his mind with a taste of the power. You know better. Just what did you think to do to him, Helen? What did you hope to accomplish besides scaring the daylights out of him? It is bad enough that your carelessness caused the power to touch him once, but for you purposefully to cause it a second time is unconscionable. This child is a male and not even one of the bloodline. And, yet, he is so susceptible. That feather touch should not have affected him. Yet, it did. I do not understand. Perhaps, he is a sensitive. That would be typical. The gods gift him with power and an inhuman face so he cannot wield the power. Obviously, a male deity watched over this one's birth, no female would have been so cruel. Well, perhaps, Hera would, but then, well …. Best not to think of such things. I shall awaken the Fates and that would be most unpleasant for us all."

The old woman paced before her fireplace, wringing her hands and occasionally shaking her fist at the ceiling as she continued her muttered tirade of abuse against her own self.

"Son of a whore! Oh, turn the page, Helen. 'The moving finger having writ moves on ….' And, all that nonsensical truth. Again, written by a man. Not that Omar Khayyam is a bad poet. He is still but a man." She paused, placed a hand to her head and groaned. "Shit! Oh well. He is quite intelligent. It shines like a beacon from his eyes and I do believe it can cut through falsehoods like a knife through butter. He knows something happened, but most likely, he does not connect it to the bracelet. I wonder if he believes I placed him in a trance and hypnotically suggested the images he saw. Does he even know what hypnosis is? I do hope that he does not think I enchanted him. I hope his mother did not raise him to be superstitious, but who knows to what she attributed his facial deformity. Oh! I hope the bitch did not burden him with the horror of telling him his face is accursed. Shit! I know nothing of this boy and yet, I risk all by what I did this evening. And, conversely, I cannot bring myself to feel any true remorse for my actions. It does not feel wrong, in fact, I have never felt a thing to be this right. I must hold on to that premonition. I suppose, I must wait to see what recriminations the morrow brings."

Lowering her hand, she walked to the window and gazed out into the darkness of the forest. She listened to the gentle pop and crackle of the flames consuming the logs in the fireplace and the patter of the rain against the window pane. She heaved a sigh and leaned her forehead against the cold glass.

"Yes, tomorrow will reveal many things.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

The boy's dreamless sleep soon gave way to the nightmares that so often plagued him. However, on this night, a new terror seized him. He found himself in a room full of mirrors. Tall mirrors, short mirrors, ornate mirrors, plain mirrors, round mirrors, square mirrors, large mirrors and small mirrors. Mirrors everywhere he turned. And, each held the image of his perfect face each image taunted him with the lie of an ideal he would never realize. A truth that would never be. He lashed out at the nearest mirror with his fists and felt his heart soar triumphantly as it shattered. His feet swiftly carried him through the opening created by the broken mirror. Everything seemed to dim and then with a flash, he found himself in a long, narrow hallway, which was only dimly illuminated. A feeling of claustrophobia closed in about him and he ran down the corridor. He slowed his pace only when he tripped slightly on the edge of an uneven stone paver. His eyes moved from side to side, examining the rough-hewn walls of the passageway. He took in the flickering lamps, which were evenly spaced along the hall. No windows and no doors were visible, so Erik continued his trek along the hall, his footsteps soundless and his breathing hushed. It was unearthly quiet and a feeling of unease caused the hairs on the nape of his neck to rise. He held his breath and his heart began to pound. Just as the boy thought he would scream to break the silence, he heard it. A voice singing. A girl's voice. It was an enchanting sound.

Erik blinked.

When his eyes focused again, he was no longer in the hall, but in a large, round room. A girl of no more than six or seven years sat in the middle of the room on a large Persian rug. She sat with her back turned to him and she was singing. Erik took a step forward and she stopped. Her head tilted to one side and then she slowly turned. Large, dark brown eyes gazed into Erik's amber orbs and he felt as if he were falling. She smiled at him and patted the floor next to her. She resumed singing. Erik's feet moved and they took him next to the girl. Her eyes danced with delight and she held out a hand to him. The boy lifted his hand to accept the girl's offer when a gust of air rushed through the room. He felt it caress the bare skin of his cheek and he drew back from the girl in horror.

"I am not wearing my mask! Where is my mask? I must have my mask!"

A sad, confused expression pressed the girl's pretty features downwards into a frown and she bit her lip as she watched the boy's eyes widen. She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders as if in silent response to his query. He lifted his hand to hide his shame and felt an electrical shock along his thigh. Glancing down, he discovered the source was the girl's hand resting on his leg.

"What is wrong? Do you not wish to sing with me?" She pouted prettily.

Erik backed away, confused by the girl's lack of fear. He shook his head.

"Why … why would you wish to play with a monster?"

"A monster?" She looked around the room then returned her wide, innocent eyes to his. "Where? I see no monster here. I only see you and me." She giggled. "Just we two, Erik and no monsters."

Erik frowned.

"Do not mock me, girl! You can see plainly that I am a monster. A hideous thing that is neither a man nor a beast. Why do you pretend you wish to be my friend? Surely, you must have better things to do than tease me with something I can never have. You do not look cruel … or, are you simply stupid?" He sneered.

Her eyes, which had filled with tears, turned to ice the moment his words accusing her of stupidity left his lips. Her eyes narrowed and her back straightened. She lifted her chin in a manner both regal and defiant.

"I do believe that you are the stupid one, Erik …." She answered haughtily. "Erik …."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"Erik …. Erik …."

The boy drew away from the hand, which shook his shoulder and cried out.

"Oh, Christine!"

"Erik …. Wake up!"

The boy's eyes flew open to find Helen's pale blue ones hovering above him. He blinked the remnants of the dream away and realized that the woman stood next to the bed with her hand upon his shoulder. Her eyes filled with a gentle concern.

"Oh, Helen!"

Without giving a thought to his actions, he threw his arms about her and hugged her tightly. Erik felt her stiffen, but after a moment, the woman relaxed and wrapped her arms about the boy.




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 02-05



"There, there, boy. Everything will be all right. Everything will be just fine. You will see. No one will hurt you now, not as long as you are with Helen. You are safe here. Hush. You will see, Erik. There, there, my boy, everything will be all right. There, there." She crooned softly.

The plump, wrinkled, old woman stood at the side of the bed with the boy gently enfolded within her arms. The almost-skeletal boy, in turn, clutched desperately at the woman, seemingly afraid to let her go. She stood there shocked by the boy's need.

"It is as if he has never known the comfort of another's touch. Oh, I pray it is not so. Even I had my mother's love as a child. And, as a woman, I chose to be alone. I have never felt as if someone needed me and I spent my life priding myself on my ability to live alone. I do not know if it is true, but it feels like he needs me and I could become quite used to this. It feels strange, but it is a good feeling. See, Erik, already you bring something new to Helen. I do believe that I quite like this. Yes. I did the right thing in asking him to stay here. Indeed, I think everything may be all right after all. Please, Lord let everything be all right …."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"Erik!"

The small girl sat upright in her bed panting and furious.

"How dare he call me stupid?"

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes with balled fists for a moment then lowered her hands to her lap. Gradually, her anger left her and she chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip as her brow furrowed in silent contemplation. Suddenly, she pounded her fists into her mattress and groaned with frustration.

"Oh! Just who did that boy think he was? I have never met anyone so rude in my entire life! What gave him the right to speak to me in such a manner? I did nothing to him, but offer to be his friend. I just wanted to play with him. No, not play …. I wanted to sing with him."

Her pretty, little mouth formed an unconscious pout.

"Just you wait until the next time I see you, Erik. I shall give you such a tongue lashing that you will never forget it. I will teach you some manners and then we can be friends whether you wish it or not!"

She lay back down in her bed and thought about the strange boy.

"His eyes shall forever haunt me. Such a lovely color, almost like honey, just a little darker. I wonder if he likes honey on his bread. I shall have to ask him …."

The last thought that ran through the girl's mind before sleep claimed her once more was a wish to see Erik again soon, very soon.

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Chapter Four – Futility

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Is it an exercise in futility to count grains of sand in the wind? Is this act still futile if it were to save a life?

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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Rumors ran rampant and riot amongst the servant's quarters that day, causing the usually aloof Christine to stop and unobtrusively listen to the unending chatter around her. The ceaseless tongue wagging of her fellow maids never failed to amaze and confound her. She rolled her eyes at the rapt attention paid to the current gossiper.

"Oh, I heard that she is a witch and has a face, which looks like folded bread dough."

"Well, I too heard that she is a witch, but did you hear that she has a demon for a companion?"

The sound of gasps and nervous titters filled the space required for the gossipmonger to draw a breath before she continued.

"Oh yes!" She nodded emphatically. "I heard tell that she cast a spell to summon him to her side. The power of her magic binds him to her. They travel from village to village, never staying in any one place for too long. They say that the two of them sing to make the angels weep with jealousy. And," the speaker paused dramatically, "the upstairs maid, the one with the crooked nose. Ah yes, that is right, her name escaped me for moment, but now I remember it. Her name is Gretchen! You know the one! Well, she overheard Monsieur le Comte speaking with the Comtessa and Gretchen swears on her life that they are here in the house. They are to perform tonight for the Comte, the Comtessa and their guests after supper." Another pause, as a female voice cackled an incoherent question. "No, I do not know where. Somewhere in the bloody house, I suppose. How should I know? The Comte does not ask my opinion in such matters. Never mind that, now, imagine it. A witch and a demon, here under the same roof as us poor, decent God-fearing folk. What a scandal! What is the Comte thinking to allow such a thing? They spend the night here in this house as guests of the Comte. I shall not be able to sleep a wink tonight for fear of losing my immortal soul!"

Christine groaned inwardly and shook her head in disgust.

"Ignorant peasants, the lot of them. That is all they are … superstitious fools."

She walked deeper into the shadows, trying to place as much distance between her and the others that served the de Mornay family. Their malicious words towards two people she did not know stung her and she could not fathom why it should bother her so. It was just one more thing that set her apart from the rest of them.

From the first moment the young girl stepped foot into the house, she knew that the servants considered her odd, a misfit among misfits. She belonged nowhere. Her father was the Vicomte Anton de Mornay's music instructor and Christine lived in the de Mornay chateau on the borrowed grace of her father's position. When her father became ill and died, the old Comte took pity on the orphaned girl as the same illness that claimed Christine's father had struck down his pregnant wife and young son. The man deeply mourned the passing of his son, his wife and their unborn child, and recognized the same grief in the eyes of the young girl. That shared sorrow prompted the Comte to show compassion to the girl. He allowed her to remain in the chateau as a member of the serving staff and then, just as quickly forgot about her.

So, at the tender age of nine years, Christine donned an apron and a white cap and began earning her way in life. She lived as quietly and unobtrusively as possible and went out of her way to blend into the shadows. While she made no friends, she had no enemies either. The only noticeable action of hers, which caused her to stand apart from the others of her station, was that she often snuck away from her duties to pray for her father in the chateau's unused and dilapidated chapel.

An unfortunate twist of fate forced the role of servant upon the girl, not the circumstances of her birth. Christine had the manners befitting a child of a musician who was a member of the bourgeoisie, which made her too refined for the lowly position in which she found herself. Had her father lived, she knew he intended to complete her vocal training and then assist her in a pursuit of a career on the opera stage. Her father strongly believed in her ability, but if his dreams of having her sing went awry, he had planned to make arrangements that would provide her with sufficient education or training to find suitable employment elsewhere. Tragically, the man died before he could ensure his dreams for his daughter would become a reality. Therefore, the household staff held the girl at arm's length as her refined manners set her apart from them. An outcast below the stairs and too unimportant for anyone to take note of her from above them, she lived her life in quiet desperation. She had spent the last nine years of her life attempting to attract as little attention to herself as possible. Now that she was 18, she had begun to form a plan to leave the chateau. She wished to sing. Before her father worked at the chateau, father and daughter had wandered about Europe. A talented violinist, he earned a living performing at fairs and sometimes at inns in exchange for room and board. As a very young child, Christine had often accompanied her father's playing by singing. Her sweet voice captivated so many that her father had begun to train her, but the lessons and her hopes died with her father. However, with the passage of time, the girl's dreams began to awaken and the thought of singing on the stage of an opera house had become like a siren's song sounding within her soul.

"I will show all of them! I do belong somewhere. I belong on the stage, singing. My father knew it. He believed in my voice and I shall not let him down. I shall leave this horrid place and go to Paris. I need to write a letter to Papa's friend, Madame Fortescue and ask her if I can audition for the chorus. I only hope she is still there. But, I have no other choice. Her name is the only one about which I remember Papa speaking."

The girl's thoughts halted for a moment as a sudden urgency flooded through her body, sending a wave of impatient heat coursing through her veins.

"No. I do not wish to remain here another fortnight or more waiting for a response that may never come. I cannot stay here another day! I need to leave this place as soon as I possibly can. I feel as if I cannot breathe here. Tonight, I will borrow from the household some things I need to make the trip to Paris. I do not think the Comte will begrudge me a few loaves of bread, some cheese and dried apples. Or, at least I hope not. I shall leave a note informing Madame LaBreche that I borrowed some food and whatnots. I shall inform her of my intention to repay their kind indulgence of my actions when I receive my salary from the opera house. That way I am not stealing. I do not wish to begin my new life by committing a mortal sin. Papa would be most displeased if he knew I stole from the Comte. Oh! That would shame him so terribly."

She stared blankly at the floor for a moment.

"Oh, please let it be all right!"

The girl was not entirely certain to whom it was that she pleaded, but could think of no alternative course of action. She shrugged, sighed and nodded her head.

"Very well, that is exactly what I shall do. Tonight, I pack what I need and tomorrow night, I leave for Paris!"

Her gaze fell upon the group gathered around the gossiping maid and she felt disgust overwhelm her.

"I cannot wait to be away from here. If the Comte judges this woman and her companion as worthy of performing for his household, who are they to dispute his wisdom? They look for any little thing on which they can pick. It makes them feel better about their own lot I suppose, but this life is not for me. Oh! I can hardly wait to see Paris again. It has been far too long. Yes, I feel a bit better already, so this must be the right thing to do. Well, that settles it then! Paris it is!" 

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

A tall, lean figure garbed solely in black followed behind the short, round woman. The wild, bright swirl of colors she wore was in direct opposition to her companion. Yet, they were a perfect complement to one another. Their easy silence as they strode along bore witness to the silent intimacy of their friendship. Neither seemed to pay any attention to their surroundings, walking casually through the darkened halls of the chateau. They walked with a certainty that belied the truth of their actions. For all their bravado, they had no reason to be out roaming the chateau in the dark of night, no reason other than a premonition of Helen's.

"Helen, are you certain you know where we are going?" Erik's irritated voice hissed.

"Hush! And, need you ask? Of course, I know where I am going. I can feel her! Can you not feel her?" She passed a hand before her eyes. "I apologize. Of course, you cannot feel her. Only old Helen can feel the woman-child. We must hurry for I fear it is her intention to flee this place, if not tonight, then soon, very soon. Oh, Erik! After so many years of searching for her, for her to be so close and lose her, I cannot bear the thought!"

Erik placed a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder.

"Helen, you must be calm. You must have all of your wits about you for your meeting with her. If you remain this agitated, she shall surely flee from us in fear. If you are calm, everything shall be fine. Remember the frightened runaway you found lying unconscious in the woods? If I had sensed this level of agitation in you all those years ago, I would never have accepted your offer to stay with you. I would have jumped out your window and kept running."

The man gave a theatrical shudder and continued.

"And, just think of all the chores you would have been forced to do as you would not have had your poor Erik to do them for you. Really, Madame! Can you imagine having to live all those years without the comfort of my companionship?"

The woman whirled about to face the young man just in time to catch the mischievous spark flashing in his eyes and she bit her tongue. He grinned as she gave him a derisive snort and resumed her brisk pace.

"What? My words accomplished their objective, did they not?" His whispering voice teased.

She drew in a deep breath and slowly released it.

"Yes, Erik. Now, I pray that you please be silent. I wish to observe her undetected before we set upon the poor thing. I hope to discover some clue as to the type of person she is. Just because I feel the power in her does not necessarily mean she is the proper one to wield it. I walk upon unfamiliar ground and do not like it. Yet, it is my lot to be the first without an heir of my body, so I must hope that the power will provide me with one in another way. Her spirit calls to me with a strange kinship I have never before felt and I cannot refuse its call. But, I am …."

She muttered a word so quietly that even Erik's perfect hearing almost failed to catch it, but he heard the word and felt a wave of sadness for the woman he had grown to love as a mother envelope him.

"… afraid."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Five – Flight

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The faster a person runs from the truth,  the swifter it is to catch them.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She moved silently, a shadow among shadows as she collected the few provisions she would allow herself to take from the Comte's household. Her first stop was the larder. After fumbling with the latch for a moment, she pulled up on the root cellar's door and carefully rested it against the wall. She cautiously made her way down the stone steps and, as she had no lamp, she found it necessary to rely solely on her sense of touch to find the bags of dried apples. Removing one from the bag, she sniffed it and sighed.

"Definitely an apple. It just would not do to find myself on the road, hungry and pull a turnip from the bag. Now, I will just put a few of these into this bag over here and now, I have room for cheese and bread." She turned around. "Oh damn, now I have to go up the stairs …."

Her return trip seemed to take even longer than her foray down into the cellar and she had to prevent herself from releasing a sigh of relief when her eyes were once again able to guide her feet. The pantry was her next target and she quickly filled her bag.

Her final stop was the chateau's laundry, where she dug through the large bin containing the Comtessa's barely soiled clothing. The Comtessa had a wan complexion with watery blue eyes and straw colored hair. Her figure had been lovely when she first arrived at the chateau as the Comte's second blushing bride, but it seemed that with each passing year, the woman's waist thickened and bosom expanded. Earlier in the week, Christine had heard the shrill voice of the Comtessa berating her maid over the improper laundering of her clothing. Christine had snickered when she heard the woman attempting to blame the laundress for the fact her dresses no longer fit her.

"That woman is simply too fond of her desserts. I find it difficult to feel any compassion for the woman. She is selfish, vain and, while not deliberately cruel, she is completely oblivious as to the consequences her displeasure reeks upon those serving her. The Comte is so besotted with her that he would dismiss the entire household staff, if she asked it of him. As if it is anyone's fault other than her own that her clothes are too tight. If she did not indulge in quite so many sweets each day and restrained herself from eating more than one portion at meals, she would not find her seams ready to burst. Be that as it may, I foresee the Comtessa growing ever older and ever wider. It is a shame, really. As she most likely eats as a means to distract herself from her unhappiness. Unhappiness she will never examine or admit she has. Strange. It seems that everyone living beneath the roof of this chateau is unhappy with their life in one way or another. I wonder … was this place always this way? When I first came here with my Papa, did the shadow of despair hang over this place? I do not remember it being here, so when did it first appear? Oh, yes! Of course, how foolish of me, this place never recovered from the losses the Comte suffered! The chateau became a morose place after his first wife, Giselle and his eldest son, Anton died. I cannot even imagine his grief to lose not only those two, but his unborn son as well. Poor baby! Little Luis de Mornay. I suppose I was too deep into my own grief to notice, but I find it curious that I never thought about it until now. I almost feel guilty for not doing something to help, but that is an absurd thought! How could I, a child of nine years, have been of any possible help? The Comte was a grown man. He did not need my help. It was the Comte, who helped me by not sending me to an orphanage and allowing me to live in the chateau. How odd it is that I should feel this way …. I have never felt a responsibility towards anyone in this place before this moment. Why now when I plan to leave?"

The young woman shook her head to clear the unsettling thoughts, which ran through her mind and distracted her from her task. She concentrated once more on the reason she was searching through the Comtessa's laundry. She smiled wryly as her hands tugged and tossed aside various items of clothing.

"Oh, well, it now seems that the Comtessa's unfortunate gain is really a fortunate turn for me. I cannot believe my luck in overhearing that conversation or I might have borrowed dresses the woman would have missed. I do not wish to draw any more attention to my loan than necessary. After all, it would be a disaster if the Comte signed a writ against me. Oh! Perhaps, I should not take these things. I do not wish to steal from the man that provided me with a roof over my head all these years, but I need to look presentable if I am to audition at the opera. If I am not presentably dressed, how can I expect them to take me seriously? No! I cannot do this. The opera house shall have to judge me on the merit of my voice alone. I cannot take the Comtessa's dresses. I cannot steal, for that is how my actions will appear whether I leave a letter promising payment or not. I will not bring shame upon my Papa's good name, or on mine."

After picking up the few pieces of clothing that had fallen to the floor and returning them to the bin, Christine retrieved her sack and returned to her small room. She carefully hid the bag in the bottom of the trunk, which served as her dresser. Her hand moved through the small pile of clothing and grasped a plain white muslin chemise. She began to lift it from the trunk, but halted.

"Why do I wait until tomorrow night? I have everything I need now and the hour is not too late. There is nothing holding me here. In fact," she paused and performed a quick calculation in her head, "I believe my final wages should cover the cost of the food I took. I do not know why I did not think of this sooner. Yes, I shall leave a note instructing Madame LaBreche to use my final wages to cover the cost of the food I took and then, I shall leave this place tonight."




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 02-05



Christine straightened and a relieved smile crossed her normally solemn features.

"I shall leave this place beholden to no one and with a clear conscience. A true fresh start."

She grabbed the worn, large carpet bag from the trunk and quickly placed her two plain black skirts, her one black blouse, her one white blouse and her undergarments into the bag. Removing the food sack, she tied it to the strap of the bag. Christine placed the bag on her bed and then slowly pulled her bed away from the wall. She knelt, removed a loose floorboard and retrieved a brown, leather pouch. Quickly returning everything to its rightful place, Christine sat on her bed and opened the pouch.

"Well, hopefully this and the money in my purse should be enough to buy me passage on the train to Paris and lodging for at least a week. After that, well, best not think on that too deeply."

She drew the drawstrings tight and tied it closed. Leaning down and lifting her dark blue skirt, she carefully stuffed the bag inside her boot. She wiggled and shook her foot until the pouch lodged itself beneath the arch of her small foot. Lowering her skirts, she hopped off the bed. After smoothing her skirt, she walked across the floor, listening carefully.

"Good! I do not hear a thing. Almost ready to go. I must write that note."

Christine went to the rickety bedside table and opened the small drawer, removing a scrap of paper, quill and inkwell. She quickly wrote the note, blew on it until it was dry, folded it over once then wrote the housekeeper's name on it and left it leaning against the lamp.

"Now, one last thing and I shall be ready to leave."

She knelt on the floor next to the bed and snaked her hand beneath the mattress. After groping for a moment, she withdrew her hand, in which she held a small coin purse. Christine stood, her hand unconsciously smoothing her skirt, hefted the small purse and then placed it in the bodice of her corset. The young woman removed the cloak from the hook on the back of her bedroom door, quickly secured it about her shoulders and pulled the hood over her head. After glancing about the room one final time, she slung the carpet bag over her shoulder, blew out the lamp and left the room, which had been her home for the last nine years. And, never once did she turn back.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"Afraid? You? Helen, I have never known anything to frighten you. How can a girl frighten you?"

The woman turned and silenced him by placing her finger to his lips.

"Hush! Look!"

She breathed and pointed down the hallway. Erik's eyes followed Helen's guiding hand just in time to see a door open and a small figure cloaked in black slip into the hall. The dark shape closed the door and quickly began to make its way down the corridor away from the frozen pair. Erik released a breath, which he had not been aware he was holding.

"That was a close thing. Now where do we go? Where is the girl? Are we close?"

"Of all the times you could pick to talk too much, you choose now. Erik, as you ask your questions, she is slipping away from us. The cloaked figure was the girl. Come! We must make haste! She intends to leave the chateau tonight." Helen paused for a moment, her head cocked to one side in silent contemplation. "In fact, she is leaving now. I hoped she would wait and leave tomorrow night as that is when we told everyone we were leaving, but it seems she is a hasty little thing. Bloody hell! We must hurry! Follow me and follow my lead, if we are lucky enough to catch her. I have an idea."

The woman seemed to fly along the corridors with the young man's long legs straining to keep up with her. Making one last turn through a doorway, Erik halted abruptly as he found himself in a large kitchen. The breathless young man searched the room for the older woman, but she was not in the room. After casting his eyes around the room a second time, he noticed an open door and as he approached it, he heard the sound of Helen's softly mumbled curses. Erik bit his lower lip to still the smile from spreading across his mouth.

"Just in time, too! She would have cracked me a good one if she had seen that grin."

The woman held several jars in her arms and waddled to the large rough hewn table. She placed the jars on the table.

"Erik! Make yourself useful and open those for me. Shit! Where on earth do they store the bread in this kitchen?"

A sudden gasp caused both the young man and the old woman to turn towards the source of the noise. Erik felt his entire body erupt into flames at the sight that met his eyes. A beautiful young woman stood staring at them from the doorway. The hood had fallen from her head, releasing her dark mass of curls from its restraining grip and shining through her thick lashes were her curious eyes.

Helen paused then turned towards the girl. Without revealing her relief at the sight of the girl, Helen spoke.

"Good evening, Mademoiselle. Do you happen to know where the bread is stored? My companion and I find we are in need of something to stave off our hunger. Can you help us, Mademoiselle?"

Erik smiled at the sound of Helen's enchanting voice and noticed that the girl had not run away, but had taken several steps closer to Helen. The girl hesitated as she glanced towards Erik. As their eyes met, he felt a fire engulf him for the second time that night. Her reaction to him surprised and pleased him. She smiled and he watched as he saw her rigid posture relax. A slow smile warmed her expression.

"You are the pair that sang for the Comte and Comtessa tonight. I heard that you have heavenly voices. I wish I could have heard you sing." She paused. "Oh! How rude of me. You were inquiring about bread, Madame. Allow me to fetch it for you. Please, take a seat, both of you and I shall return in a moment."

The girl carefully unslung a rather large and careworn bag from her shoulder and placed it on the floor next to the backdoor. She scampered through another doorway and quickly returned holding a large loaf of bread in her hands. She set it on the table in front of Helen.

"Here you are, Madame. Can I help you find anything else? A knife? Perhaps plates and cups? Something to drink?"

Erik watched as Helen drew the girl under the calming spell of her voice. Outwardly, he seemed his normal, placid self, but inwardly, his tumultuous thoughts blazed.

"Those eyes! I know those eyes and those curls, but it cannot be! She is not real. She exists only in my dreams. And, yet, here she is. My angel and Helen's niece are one in the same. How can this be?"



The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 06-10



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Six – Grounded

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A family provides the foundation upon which the soul stands tall. A soul without firm ground underfoot is doomed to fall.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christine listened to the woman as she prattled on about nothing. The girl smiled and nodded, but her mind roiled with the turmoil she felt over the presence of Helen's masked companion. He had not spoken a word, yet, Christine felt his eyes burning into her as he watched her every move. Her mind split in two, one part seemed to pay attention to Helen and the stunned other part, focused intently upon the man sitting quietly at the table.

"Erik! I cannot believe this! Once, years ago, I waited for you to come to me. I sat and waited for you never doubting that you would come for me. Yet, each day dawned and found me without you by my side. And, one lonely morning, I heard a sound. It was the sound of splintering glass, but it was no mirror, which cracked, but my heart. And, each day you did not come to me, the fracture, which ran through my heart, grew ever wider and deeper. Until, at last, with the death of my father, my heart despaired and broke in two. Afterwards, I allowed myself to think of you as nothing more than a childish dream. You are a dream! Damn you! I needed you and you did not come! You did not come for me. How dare you come for me now ...."

A gentle voice interrupted her raging thoughts and she blinked.

"I ... oh, pardon me, what did you say?"

Christine stammered and bit her lip as she felt hot color flood her cheeks.

"And, where is it that you would go in the middle of the night, Mademoiselle?"

The older woman softly inquired.

The young woman drew her body up to stand straight, tall and proud. Erik shuddered slightly in recognition of the wall he saw lowering before her bright, warm eyes. A wall, which when in place, left them cold and dull, as it imprisoned the spirit of his angel.

"While your implied concern for my welfare is appreciated, I fail to see how it is any concern of yours. My business is mine and mine alone, Madame."

Christine's smile appeared as brittle as frost on a window pane. Yet, the old woman seemed little affected by her words and continued speaking in her oddly lulling voice.

"Dearest child therein lays the fallacy of your words. We share this earth and, therefore, we share the responsibility to care for one another. Did no one teach you this lesson? We must be our brother's keeper, lest we fall into the hell of Cain. I simply seek assurance that you shall be safe upon the road you travel. Erik and I leave on the eve of the morrow and I thought that if our ways coincided, we might journey together. Where could the harm be in that?"

The ice melted from the girl's lips and she frowned slightly. Her eyes inadvertently slipped to Erik before darting away to stare into the darkness of the corridor. A voice spoke from within her heart and Christine strained to hear the words, but she could not decipher them and they remained elusively just beyond her mind's grasp. She shrugged slightly.

"There is no harm in that, Madame. Please excuse my rudeness, but I do not know either of you. I thought it is better to err on the side of caution, so with that in mind, I gave you my guarded answer. I travel to Paris, where I intend to audition for a part in the chorus at the Académie Nationale de Musique, Théâtre de l'Opéra." A small smile graced her mouth. "Otherwise known as the Palais Garnier. I wish to sing upon the stage. To sing there was a dream I shared with my Papa and now that I have grown into a woman, I plan to make that dream a reality. Where do your travels take the two of you?"

Helen's mouth softened into a toothy grin.

"Why, our destination is Paris as well, but first I believe introductions are clearly in order. I am Madame Helen de Blanc and my silent, young companion is Monsieur Erik de Seul."

The woman swept her arm towards the man at the table and he briefly inclined his head to acknowledge the introduction, but remained quietly seated at the table. Christine's eyes turned and met the young man's intense look. The moment their eyes locked, Christine felt a burning flare deep within the center of her chest, one, which threatened to overpower her mind. She quickly returned her gaze to the woman and found much to her dismay, her heart was pounding and her breath was ragged in her throat.

"My name is ...."

Her voice croaked and she grimaced at the raw sound. Christine winced as she felt her cheeks burn crimson. She paused and cleared her throat.

"I am Christine Wolner and I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Madame. Monsieur."

She bobbed a slight curtsey before turning to retrieve her bag from the floor. Placing it on her shoulder, she graced the pair before her with an awkward and wooden smile.

"Now, if you will excuse me. I must be on my way. It was a pleasure meeting the both of you. Perhaps, one day, we shall meet again. Bonsoir."

Without waiting for a response, Christine turned and began to flee from the kitchen toward the comforting darkness outside the chateau. One step. Two steps. Just as she raised her foot to take a third, a familiarly beautiful voice called to her.  

"Mademoiselle, wait!"

Her foot fell to the floor and while her mind screamed for her to run, her body refused to obey. She turned to find the young man standing just behind her.

"How could he move so quickly? How did he leave the table without making a sound? Oh! Erik! How I have missed you!"

She shook her head to clear that last thought from her mind then tilting her head to one side, she placed the hand not holding her bag, onto her hip.

"Well? You have something you wish to say to me, Monsieur?"

He licked his lips nervously and turned his pleading eyes to Helen. The older woman read the silent entreaty in his gaze. She took pity upon the young man and stepped into the conversation.

"What my young friend here wishes to say is that as all of us seem intent on traveling to Paris, why not travel there together? We planned to leave tomorrow evening, but since you seem determined to leave as soon as possible, if you do not object, we would be most pleased to alter our plans and accompany you on your journey tonight. While I am certain you are quite capable of taking care of yourself. Would it not be preferable and safer to travel amongst companions?"

Christine carefully considered the woman's words and she could find no hidden fault in them.

"I know Helen speaks the truth. I know it is not proper for a young, unmarried and unchaperoned woman to travel alone. I have no idea what the world outside these walls is like. The last time I traveled beyond them, I was a child and I had my Papa. Oh! In many ways, I suppose I still am a naïve little girl. Humph! I am a naïve little girl in a woman's body! I thought this would be so simple. How have things become so complicated, so quickly? Oh! What should I do, Papa? Should I refuse them or should I go with them?"

The young woman sighed as her shoulders sagged.

"I suppose I really have no choice. To refuse their company would be foolish."

"Yes. It would be safer traveling in a group than for me to travel alone. Therefore, I accept your offer. Thank you."

The young woman blinked in surprise as the older woman spun about on her heels and giddily clapped her hands. The older woman's youthful exuberance delighted Christine with its unaffected charm and brought a smile to the girl's unaware lips.

"Excellent! We must retrieve our belongings, but that should not take but ten minutes. We travel very light. First, we must clear the table and set this room to rights ...."

Christine interrupted and made a shooing motion with her hands.

"No need for you to do that! Go! Collect your things! I shall tend to the kitchen. That way I shall have something to occupy my time, while you fetch your things and we can leave here that much sooner. Now, off with the both of you! Go on ... shoo!"

The girl chuckled at the surprise in the young man's gleaming eyes.

"Maybe it was not his fault. After all, he was just a boy. Maybe ...."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

A mere quarter of an hour later, the three travelers slipped through the doors of the chateau and into the night. Erik watched the girl from the corner of his eyes as she leaned her head back and drank in the crisp night air. It seemed to the bewitched young man that with each passing footfall, Christine's step became lighter and the shadow that hovered around her thinned.

"If she continues in this way, she shall become as clear as glass and float away on the breeze."

He blushed at the strange feeling his thought brought to his body and tried to shift his mind away from the lithe young woman walking next to him.

The three walked along in a silence, which strained to break into speech. Helen, as always, filled the night with her lovely voice.

"So, Christine, do you have a place to stay in Paris?"

The girl answered before her mind allowed her to ponder the question too carefully.

"No. I thought to find a room in a boarding house and then, I hoped that if offered a position in the chorus, I would stay in the opera house's dormitories. As a last resort, an old acquaintance of my Papa's works at the Palais Garnier. I thought I would ask for her assistance if a position is not open in the chorus, but I do not wish to dwell on that possibility until it is necessary."

She gave a nervous laugh.

"But, here I go on and on with my silly plans when a simple 'no' would answer your question."

Helen's mouth took on an amused smirk before casually remarking.

"Well, I own a cottage on the eastern side of Paris. For all of my outgoing nature, I am a woman that appreciates her privacy and my home reflects that. Deep within the Bois de Vincennes it lies. Yes, I know. That area is a public park. How is it possible to have a home there? Well, it has belonged to my family for many generations. Can you imagine? Napoleon III attempted to decree the place I call home part of his public park. His bureaucrats threatened to evict me from my home, but my family holds title to that little plot of land in perpetuity. So long as one of us draws breath, it remains our property. Napoleon Bonaparte bequeathed the property to my grandmother and not even Napoleon III dares to revoke an edict issued by his beloved uncle. So as long as one of my lineage lives, the cottage is ours. There are two of us left. And as I am hale and hearty and the other is quite young, there is hope that the land shall remain with our family for many years to come."

She paused to take a breath and chuckled softly.

"Oh! I am a long-winded old bat. Am I not, Erik?"

He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"Yes. And, not only long-winded, but notoriously susceptible to losing the point of your conversation."

He paused.

"The point of your rambling monologue being ...."

When Helen shrugged and did not speak, Erik put a hand to his temple and rubbed it a moment before he continued.

"Very well. I shall refresh your memory. You inquired as to the Mademoiselle's lodging arrangements and then spoke of your home. Does that help you recall the point?"

The folds of the woman's wrinkled face creased deeper and her toothy smile glistened in the moonlight.

"Ah yes. My thanks, Erik. My point being ... I have an empty bedroom and you are in need of a place to stay. Christine, I would be most pleased if you would allow me to offer you the use of this room. While Erik is a good listener, he is still a man. It would be a pleasant change to have a woman to keep me company. Of course, I understand that you intend to audition for a position with the opera, but until you can make other arrangements, I would like you to consider my offer. You need not give me an answer now. Just think about it. You have the entire trip to Paris to mull it over."

Christine smiled and nodded at Helen.

"I promise I shall give it due consideration. It is a very generous offer, Madame. Thank you."

Once again, the three continued walking. However, the once strained silence had given way to a comfortable, companionable one.

"Strange that I find her offer oddly exciting. Normally, I would dismiss it out of hand and run as fast and as faraway as I could, but I am sorely tempted to take her up on her offer. I feel oddly comfortable around Helen. I find that I like her. I might even trust her a little. She makes me feel as if I have known her for a very long time. And ... I wonder ... Oh dear! I wonder if Erik lives with her."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Seven – Laughter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laughter is the best release the body can provide when the option of sex is not available.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the sun began to rise over the treetops, the footsore threesome trudged along the dusty country lane on their way to the train station. Helen shrugged her pack from her shoulders and swung it gently onto the ground. She stretched her arms straight over her head and groaned.

"Damn! I need a short rest. I am most definitely getting too old to be walking all night and then, to add insult to injury, I have to carry my own pack. Erik, this is it! I just cannot do this any longer. After all these years of blistered feet, I have earned this luxury. I am really going to do it! First thing I am going to do when we get back home is write to Khalid and take him up on his offer. So, my young friend, you best start drawing up plans for a place for Edgar to stay because once we reach home, I refuse to walk another step."

Helen paused and cocked her head to look over her shoulder at a bemused Erik and a confused Christine.

"Hmmm .... Do you think they will allow Edgar on the train? After all, I will only require him when there are no tracks leading to the place we need to go. And, it simply would not do to leave him boarded with strangers. I shudder at the thought of something untoward happening to him. What if someone were to mistreat the poor dear? Khalid would kill me. Erik? How do you think a Persian would murder someone? Disembowelment? No. Poison? Hmmm .... A definite possibility, but he probably would not allow me a quick death, would he? No. Khalid would have to find a way that would allow him to take his time. A slow acting poison, perhaps ... yes, he would draw out the torture, probably tie me down, slowly poisoning me, until the exquisite end."

The old woman's eyes had taken on an almost dreamy look and Christine could not decide if the look resulted from a memory or her imagination. Erik chuckled and Christine gasped.

"What the hell? My God! Please let this be a very strange attempt at humor."

"Edgar? Khalid? Torture? Poison? Wait! Wait!"

The words issued from her mouth in a choked voice as Christine's mind spun. Her hands moved to hold her head as she vainly tried to sort through the dizzying concepts and grasp onto a single thought.

"I cannot deal with the idea of torture or murder, but ... wait ...."

Her mind calmed. She dismissed the notions of torture and murder as absurd, but found she could not rationalize the least horrifying idea of the bunch. She had heard the words come straight from their mouths. She had no choice, but to address the one concern she could not dismiss as ridiculous.

"Are you saying that you plan to buy someone? How could you?"

Christine blurted. Her voice a hiss as she turned her shocked eyes to Helen. For a moment, all three stood in the middle of the dirt road staring in stunned silence. Then, Erik began to snicker softly as Helen shook her head and closed her eyes.  

"Why you dirty, son of a whore! How dare you laugh at me? I demand an answer ... now!"

The young man's lone visible eyebrow rose as he heard the words the girl spoke and saw her outraged gaze rake over his tall, lean form. He shook his head, attempted to speak, but the sight of Christine's apparent fury pushed him past the point of no return. Erik began to laugh. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, but it only served to muffle the sound of his laughter, not stifle it.

"I do not find this in the slightest bit amusing, Monsieur de Seul. And, you had best let me in on exactly why you find this so amusing or you shall find my boot up against your bony arse!"

His laughter ceased immediately and his hand dropped from his mouth. He stared at the girl as he bit his lip and, after a moment, frowned.

"No need to fling insults about my posterior, Mademoiselle. I do not laugh at you. I laugh over the cause of your concern. Perhaps, Helen, you should enlighten dear Mademoiselle Wolner over what Edgar, in fact, is."

Both the young man and woman turned their attention to the older woman. Helen remained silent as she studied the two faces turned towards her. Christine stood with her hands on her hips, her cheeks flushed, her breathing quick and shallow. The girl seemed to stare directly at Helen, but the older woman noticed that her eyes darted furtively towards Erik. Erik, on the other hand, did not attempt to hide how his eyes slid along the girl's form. Helen saw that beneath his annoyance, his eyes burned with another unfamiliar emotion. The old woman inwardly gasped as she felt the race of his blood through his veins and knew there was no mistaking how the man felt about the young woman.

"My God! What on earth is happening here? Am I really sensing their feelings correctly? How did this happen so quickly? Oh, Erik! I have often hoped for you to fall in love, but I do not know if Christine is a wise choice. She has had a difficult life thus far and her future does not look any easier. Well, I suppose we cannot choose the person with whom we fall in love. Especially, not when it is love at first sight. I only hope that the two of you realize you are in love before you break one another's hearts with your stubborn and obstinate ways. Well, time will tell."

Helen cleared her throat and began to speak softly.

"Christine, really! Please calm yourself! Do I look like a person that would peddle in human flesh? Does Erik? Edgar is not a person. Edgar is a mule."

The girl stood staring first at Helen, then at Erik and then back to Helen for almost an entire minute before the light of comprehension dawned in her eyes. The blush exploded across her cheeks in considerably less time, but Helen swore she could feel the heat of it from where she stood several steps away.

"A ...a mule?" She stammered.

Erik nodded. Helen tilted her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"I am afraid that is the truth of it. Edgar is one of Khalid's pack mules."

"Oh ... oh, my dear! Oh! I am so sorry! I feel so stupid for overreacting, but you must admit that the things you said were quite misleading. However, that is no excuse for me not to give you the benefit of the doubt before losing my temper. Please, Helen, Erik. Can you accept my apology?"

"Good heavens, child!" Helen laughed. "There is nothing for which you need apologize. If you think about it for a moment, it is really quite amusing and if you knew Edgar, well ...."

Christine's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"How can you know a mule?"

Erik caught Helen's eyes and winked, before answering Christine's inquiry.

"You will understand once you meet him."

The girl was less than pleased with his answer as she thought it a rather cryptic remark. Turning his attention to Helen again, he continued.

"I am quite certain that Edgar has more of a personality than Khalid does. He is certainly more charming, has impeccable taste, wonderful table manners, a lovely singing voice and is definitely much more accommodating than Khalid is. And, Edgar is definitely not anywhere near as stubborn as Khalid is. I almost forgot. Edgar is highly intelligent, too. Whereas, on the other hand, Khalid ...."




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 06-10



Helen pursed her lips and with a glare, stopped Erik before he could finish.

"Erik! Be nice! Khalid is not here to defend himself."

"Oh, Helen, I would never engage in a battle of wits with an unarmed man. Even I am not that cruel!" 

He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked.

"He looks rather pleased with himself." Christine mused.

The old woman slapped his forearm sharply and frowned. Erik turned away from the woman and rubbed at the spot she hit.

"Helen!" He pouted.

"Erik! We discussed this the last time Khalid paid us a visit and you promised to behave yourself when it came to him. You promised, remember?"

A smug grin slowly rolled across Erik's lips.

"Yes, well, I promised to behave whenever I am around Khalid." He looked around and shrugged. "I do not see him anywhere near me, so I am not breaking my word."

He turned to Christine with a look of feigned innocence, hoping to enlist her support.

"I am not going against my promise, am I?"

She shrugged, shook her head and turned to Helen.

"Is he always this obtuse and difficult? Or, is he putting forth the extra effort on my behalf?"

The two women giggled and Erik rolled his eyes.

"Come on, you two! We waste the daylight." The young man intoned with mock earnestness. "Come on Helen. Do you not wish to get home before dark?"

Helen groaned and bent to retrieve her pack. She slung it across her back and fell into step with Erik and Christine as they resumed their trek down the lane.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

As the three arrived at the train station, Christine's eyes moved from Helen to Erik and back again.

"Helen looks so tired and after all of the horrible things I heard people say about him at the chateau, I do not expect that dealing with a ticket vendor is a pleasant experience for Erik. I remember the difficult time my father used to have with them and he did not have to contend with the additional challenge of appearing different from everyone else. Hmmm .... Seeing as I already caused such a ruckus over nothing, maybe I can show how sorry I am by offering to deal with the tickets. Ugh! I cannot believe I threatened to kick him! I have no idea what came over me. He just looked so smug .... Never mind that, Christine. Time to make amends and make your Papa proud. Offer to deal with the inquiries and purchase the tickets for all of us."

She ran her tongue around her dry lips and for a split second, she thought she saw Erik's eyes lock onto her lips. She nervously blinked and when her eyes opened, felt relief as she noted that the young man was not looking at her, but at Helen.

"I must have imagined it."

A strange mix of emotions surged through the young woman. She felt both hurt and relief at the thought she had only imagined Erik's interest in her lips.

"Why on earth should I feel hurt?"

She shook her head to clear the unsettling thought and spoke.

"I can purchase the tickets. Erik, you should help Helen find a nice place to sit and wait for the train. I will check on the price of the tickets and then be right back."

The girl waved her hands in a shooing motion at her companions and hurried away to the ticket kiosk before either of her companions could reply. She made her inquiries, returned to inform her new friends about the cost, collected their portion of the fare and purchased passage for three by train to Paris. She rejoined her companions and they settled on two platform benches, which were directly across from one another and waited for the arrival of their train.

Helen and Erik sat side-by-side. On the bench opposite them, Christine sat alone. She removed her bag from her shoulder and stretched her aching muscles. As she was unused to walking great distances, Christine felt rather tired and footsore. With her hands placed slightly behind her on the bench, she leaned back just enough to make raising her head comfortable. She lifted her face to drink in the warmth of the rising sun. The sun's caress on her skin felt intoxicating and she began to drift away, wrapped in its warm, comforting embrace. She jolted awake as her arms relaxed and she began falling backwards. She shook her head to clear the fuzziness of sleep from her mind. In an attempt to pass the time and stave off the sandman's looming seduction, Christine's mind churned through topics about which her companions might wish to converse. She smiled as one came into her mind.

"Helen?"

The old woman sat with her hands folded upon her lap and head bowed. Upon hearing Christine's voice, she tilted her head up to peer at Christine with one pale blue eye.

"Yes, Christine? How can I assist you in quenching your insatiable curiosity? What would you like to know?"

Christine blushed and turned away, as she heard Erik's muffled snort of amusement.

"Well, after our conversation earlier, something just occurred to me. And, yes, I am a curious person. After all, if I did not ask questions, how would I ever learn anything? Anyway, what I would like to know is who decided to name the mule, 'Edgar' and why? While I am not very familiar with names common for mules, Edgar seems an odd name, or at least an unusual one. Is it not?"

As Christine had focused her attention on Helen, she was startled when Erik answered her.

"I named him." He spoke quietly, almost shyly.

She gaped at him for a moment, before realizing how foolish she must appear with her mouth hanging open.

"You ...." She gulped and began again. "You did? Why?"

Amber eyes met brown and for a moment, they lost themselves in the depths of the other's gaze. Erik broke the silence by clearing his throat.

"Well, the first time I saw the mule, his eyes reminded me of photographs I had seen of Edgar Allan Poe. The mule had the same sad, dark eyes, which seem so haunted. Also, the animal is strangely thoughtful in a serious way." He shrugged and the corners of his mouth curled slightly upwards. "He made me think of the man, so it just seemed the proper thing to name him."

Christine caught herself this time. She refused to allow herself to gape at the masked young man sitting calmly across from her. After a moment, she shook her head and chuckled. Erik raised an eyebrow.

"Why does this amuse you, Mademoiselle?"

"You seem just as serious as the animal about which you speak. Perhaps, you feel a kinship with him?" She smirked.

Erik stared at the beautiful young woman before him. Her eyes held his and he saw in their depths an interested mirth. Her eyes did not mock him or fear him.

"She admits to an insatiable curiosity, but asks nothing of my mask. I find myself feeling curious to know more about her. She must decide to accept Helen's offer! I find that the thought of losing her again makes me feel ill inside ... losing her again? No, I cannot allow my mind to travel that path. Think of now, Erik. Not dreams. This woman is real. She is not the girl of your dreams. Now, answer her."

He graced Christine with a quirky smile and nodded his agreement.

"Perhaps I do feel related to Edgar. I have found that I seem to make an ass of myself quite often, especially recently." He replied dryly.

Now, it was Erik's turn to smirk as he watched Christine's lower jaw drop once more in shock. The young man found that he could no longer contain his laughter and he allowed it to burst forth. Christine continued to stare at him for a moment, before her shock gave way to unrestrained peels of amusement.

Helen nonchalantly observed the two young people as they at first verbally jousted with one another and then her eyes widened slightly as they collapsed into fits of laughter.

"Oh shit! This is becoming much more serious than I originally thought. I sense that they feel close to one another. It is almost as if they have met before, but that is not possible. Is it?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Eight – Dreams

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Dreams transport one each night to the places needed by the soul  to heal the battering it endures during each day.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"At last! At first, I thought the bloody train would never arrive and then I began to think it would never leave. You can tell that no member of the aristocracy is a passenger on this train by the fact that it is running two and one-quarter hours late. Well, I suppose I should not grumble too loudly. At least we were able to use the time to procure sustenance for our famished bodies. Speaking of which, Erik, pass the bottle here or at the very least be a good lad and refill my cup."

Helen grumbled. Erik and Christine's eyes met over the old woman's head and they exchanged an indulgent smile over her belligerent behavior.

"If this is the way people act once they have lifted one too many mugs, I do believe I shall stick to tea." Christine muttered.

"Hear! Hear!" Erik quietly intoned before he added. "I do believe that the expression is 'being too deep in one's cups,' but the gist of both statements boils down to the same sentiment."

Christine could not suppress a giggle and Helen shot her an indignant glance before extending her hand to Erik.

"Come now, boy! Pass the bottle! I earned a drink or two after that walk."

The young man lifted the bottle from the basket, uncorked it and handed it to Helen. The old woman promptly tipped the bottle into her mug and its contents noisily sloshed out.

"Fuck!"

Helen's normally melodic voice lowered into a snarl as drops of the burgundy splattered on her shirtsleeve. Christine gasped and Erik winced at the volume she spoke, but the old woman seemed oblivious or she ignored the two young people's reaction. She held the bottle out to Erik and he swiftly returned it to the basket.

Christine tried unsuccessfully to hide her yawn, but was too tired to try and fight off the call of slumber.

"I think I will try to take a nap." Christine announced.

Erik smiled at her and nodded.

"That sounds like an excellent idea to me as well. Helen, if you need anything, just give me a little shake. Otherwise, I am fairly certain I shall sleep for the entire trip. Is that all right with you?"

"I do not need a bleeding nanny, Erik! You know how I detest it when you hover. I just need to take off these bloody shoes and rest my feet for a bit. You two go to sleep! I will be just fine!"

Helen lifted her hand and waggled it dismissively at the pair as she lifted her cup with the other to take a sip. She failed to notice the light, which glinted off the bracelet around her wrist. The bracelet gave off the tiniest of twinkling sparkles; the flash caught Erik and Christine's eyes and burrowed deep into their minds and souls. Then, as if placed under an enchantment, in an instant, the young man and woman fell into a deep sleep. Their bodies fell limply, rested in boneless heaps propped up by the firm benches and walls of the train compartment. Helen struggled forward and wrestled one-handed with the laces of her shoes for a moment, before acknowledging defeat. She slumped back into her seat, clutching the cup between her ample bosoms and closed her eyes. Soon, a soft snore began to issue from the slit of her mouth.

Except for the quiet whistling of the old woman's breath and the clacking of the train's wheels upon the tracks, silence reigned in the compartment.

It was at that moment when a delicate stream of glittering light moved from the bracelet. It swept through the air, encasing first Christine and then Erik in its insubstantial cocoon. The soft radiance remained and pulsed in time with the rise and fall of each breath brought to the two dreamers held in its embrace.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Christine sat upon a large carpet. The intricate design as familiar to her as the sight of her own hands. She relished the softness of it and cherished the beauty of the maroon swirls, the crème spots, the powder blue lines, the pink roses and the midnight blue of its border. She marveled in the knowledge that such a seemingly sturdy rug could be made of such a delicate fiber as silk, but she knew it was true. She sat and she waited. She waited. She waited for him to come to her. And, as she always did when she waited for him, she sang. The songs were always different, yet, always the same in that they always spoke of love lost or unrequited love. Tears burned beneath her eyelids. It had been such a long time since she last sat and waited for him. So long a time since she last looked upon him and sang for him.

"My God! How I have missed him! Even though he irritates me to no end at times, I have longed to see him, craved to hear the sound of his voice and yearned for the touch of his hands upon my flesh. I miss his amber eyes burning into mine .... I wonder if he has missed me or thought of me at all."

And then, she felt him. He was with her. She knew that he stood in the doorway of the room behind her. The tall, lanky boy with the tear-streaked face and lonely eyes. The boy that possessed the voice of an angel and the temper of a demon. He was her gentle playmate one moment and a harsh taskmaster the next. She turned her head, so she could catch a glimpse of him in the periphery of her vision. She wished to fulfill her need to allow her eyes to fully explore the boy, but instead, found a man standing in the boy's place. A man with the same glowing amber eyes and twisted face as the boy she once knew. The unexpected change of the boy into a man caused her eyes to drop involuntarily to her lap and she let out a small shriek of surprise and shock. Her body was no longer hers, but belonged to a woman. She leapt to her feet, her hands running over the firm high mounds of her breasts and down over the flat expanse of her stomach. Her hands slid out to the sides of her tiny waist before moving down and out over the gentle swell of her hips. Her hands froze as she realized that the man watched her, as she silently explored her body. The heat of his gaze penetrated her shock and brought a corresponding flush to her cheeks, which rapidly spread down her neck, across her chest, ending at the tips of her hardened nipples. The two nubs poked noticeably outward from her simple silk shift and her blush deepened further. Her eyes slipped to the floor and her head lowered in shame and embarrassment.

"He must think me a wanton creature to touch my body in such a manner. It was just such a shock! I am a woman now and he is a man. Is he still my Erik? Oh, please! Let it be ...."

And, then a gentle hand touched her chin and raised her head. Amber eyes met hers and she knew they were falling. Their minds plummeting and twisting, diving and turning together like two motes floating through the air on a lazy summer's afternoon. After a moment, he surprised her as he withdrew from the spiraling vortex created when their eyes met. She fell alone, but could see him watching her from far above. His amber eyes burned gold allowing her easily to read the fear in their depths. The whirling ceased and she once again felt the solid floor beneath her feet.

"What could he possibly have to fear? Is he afraid of me?"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

He stood before the girl that was and stared intently into the eyes of the woman that is. His gaze broke from hers and moved lower. Erik marveled as he took in the lovely curves and swells of her womanly form and he inwardly rejoiced at the complete trust he read in her eyes. And when her hands began to move over her body, he had to remind himself to breathe.

"I want ... no, I need her!"

And then, he watched as her hands suddenly pulled away from her body and ceased their intimate examination. A blush suffused her cheeks and then ran down the graceful arch of her throat. The wave of color continued its downward journey to vanish beneath the silk of her smooth shift. Her eyes widened and she lowered her head to stare intently at the floor, the delicate, light pink flush, which colored her skin deepened into a burning crimson. He felt her confusion become his as he suddenly recognized her shame.

"Why is she ashamed? She has nothing of which she need be ashamed. She is beautiful. No, she is more than beautiful. She is perfect. Perhaps, she feels her actions were inappropriate, too wanton, but how can an angel commit a sin? It cannot. It is a simple impossibility for this angel to fall into the trap of earthly weaknesses."

As if from somewhere outside of his body, he watched as he raised his hand to cup her chin and lift her head, so he could gaze deep into her eyes. He trembled slightly, a wave of fear crashing over him.

"What if it is not shame I saw in her eyes? I am not infallible, nor am I well-versed in the ways of women. What if the emotion I read in her eyes is fear? Perhaps, this angel fears me. She knows what lies beneath my mask and I could not fault her for finding me hideous. Indeed, I find my own face repugnant. How shall I live knowing that the sight of my face sickens her? Could the child that once accepted me so completely, grow into a woman that finds me utterly repulsive? Do I really wish to know the answer to that question? Oh, no!"

His body jerked in sudden shock.

"No! Oh gods, no! My face. My face! Is it? My God! It is ...."

His hand quickly lifted to touch the right side of his face. A small, despairing wail escaped his lips as his hand landed on mangled flesh and not the smooth surface of his mask. He frantically whipped about, turning his back to her to shield his angel from the sight of his horror. He desperately wished he could rend the offensive parody, which masqueraded as his face, from his body, but knew he could not subject his angel to a fit of his madness. He fell to his knees, closed his eyes and raised his arms before his face. He knelt there his mind drowning in the pain of his self-loathing waiting for the sound of the words he knew would come. The words, which would banish him forever from the presence of his angel. He waited, but the words did not come. Instead, the touch of gentle hands came, first on his shoulders and then ran down the length of his arms. As the hands touched his wrists, the descent ended and they slowly began to retrace their path upwards. Up and down, tracing a soft, yet fiery trail along the sides of his arms. His ragged breathing began to calm, allowing him to realize that the room was no longer quiet.

His angel was singing to him.

He lowered his arms and lifted his head to find her face so close to his that he could feel her soft exhalations upon the flesh of his ruined cheek. He spoke without thinking.

"Oh! My God! I want ...."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Christine refused to allow her body to give into its almost overpowering urge to quiver and quake at the unexpected nearness of Erik's face to her own. His burning eyes drew her as if she were a moth and he the flame. And when he lifted his tortured gaze to hers and spoke of his desire, she surrendered to the urgent tug of gravity and secretly rejoiced as her mouth crashed downwards onto his. The deep connection she felt, combined with her undeniable attraction to the man caused her lips to move desperately against his still mouth. She felt him resist and attempt to draw away, but her hands moved upwards and caught in his hair. Feeling as if she had nothing to lose and the possibility of everything to gain, the inexperienced young woman followed the call of her heart, and the pounding desire of her blood as her tongue darted across his lips. Erik moaned against the rasp of her tongue. Christine seized the opportunity and deepened their kiss. And still, he did not respond to her invasion of his mouth. He simply allowed her to explore him with her tongue, until a whimper of desire escaped from deep inside her. As his ears heard and then his mind understood, the walls he had built around his heart collapsed. Erik's arms wrapped tightly about the waist of his angel. He allowed his mouth to move against hers and his tongue erotically dueled with hers. The two became lost within the music pounding its beat in time to the rhythm of their hearts. Christine's need for oxygen soon required her to release her lips from the man's, but she did not withdraw completely. She leaned her forehead upon his with her mouth rested lightly against his, as her lungs gasped to take in the air that the kiss denied them. Hearing Erik's labored breathing, caused her heart to soar and a thought passed through both of their minds at the same time.




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 06-10



"He wants me!"

"She wants me!"

As their bodies calmed, the desire began to rise once more and the two sets of lips locked together again. Two sets of arms began to draw the body they held, closer. Two sets of hands began their urgent exploration of the unknown.

And, then a voice intruded into their passion.

"Erik! Christine! Wake up!"

They held each other tighter, but the voice became more and more insistent.

"Wake up! What is wrong? Christine! Erik! Really! Wake up! Do I need to fetch a pail of cold water and throw it on the two of you? What on earth is going on here?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Nine – Awakenings

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Awakening from our dreams brings us another step closer to realizing them.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christine hurriedly sat up from the unladylike slouch in which she found herself when she awoke. Her hands immediately moved to smooth her skirts and then patted at her hair in a vain attempt to bring order to her unruly locks.

Erik, too, sat up quickly. His hands flew up to his face, his shoulders rigid. His entire body relaxed as soon as his fingers touched the stiff surface of his mask. He adjusted its position and sighed. Suddenly, his head tilted down and he hissed. Helen and Christine turned questioning eyes towards him, only to see a twirl of black envelop his form within the folds of his cloak. He seemed to glare at the women, silently daring them to question him. Helen, used to his strange ways, shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Christine. The young woman stared at him for a moment, but he would not meet her eyes. With a slight frown, Christine drew upon the acting skills her father taught her and cleared from her face the signs of hurt Erik's action caused her. Although, inside she seethed over his apparent rejection of her and her cheeks flooded with color.

"Wonderful! He is going to act stupid again! He is a grown man and still acts as a foolish boy! After the way he touched me, how can he act so cold towards me? Does he not remember?"

She paused and licked her lips.

"Perhaps, he remembers, but believes our visits are no more than dreams.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and repressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"If that is the case, he is the most intelligent fool I shall ever meet!"

As she often did at times when she was upset, Christine unconsciously began to hum. She turned her eyes to stare unseeingly out the window at the passing countryside and without realizing it, her mouth opened and the words of the song slipped past her lips. At first, the sound of her voice was no more than an almost imperceptible impression of song, but quickly grew into a quiet vocalization of joy as the young woman allowed the music to sweep through her being. She reveled in the sweet emotions she felt while in the embrace of the music, but in her secret heart she wished it were the young man's strong arms holding her.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Erik continued to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"It is bad enough to fall asleep and have an erotic dream about Christine, but then, when I awake, to find the evidence standing visible for all to see that is quite ... embarrassing ... humiliating ... disgusting .... It is no wonder that she sits there, frowning at me. She must think that I am a depraved beast. Thankfully, she has no idea what caused my arousal. I am certain that if she knew she was the reason for my tumescence, she would not only refuse to continue traveling with Helen and me, but my face would have received a rather resounding slap."

He continued his surreptitious adjustment of his aroused manhood. All the while attempting to keep Christine in his line of sight.

"The last thing I need is for her to think that I am committing some sort of perversion while I look at her. Why does she keep staring at me? I would almost swear that the last glimpse I caught of her, it seemed I saw her eyes leveled at my member. And, now her cheeks are so red that they almost glow. Could it be that she does not find me disgusting?"

He took a deep breath, releasing the tension from his body as he exhaled. With a well-seasoned control taught to him by Helen, Erik cleared all thought from his mind. He replayed every moment he spent in Christine's presence, from his first glimpse of her shadowed form exiting her quarters to the sight of her currently scarlet cheeks and impassive eyes. He searched through the memories, freezing a look, an expression, a touch, but nowhere could he find one that provided him with evidence of her fear or loathing. Indeed, the closer Erik examined his brief acquaintance with Christine, the more confused he became.

"She shows absolutely no signs of fear or loathing towards me. And, not only does she not attempt to avoid my touch, she has gone out of her way to initiate physical contact with me. There is something else ... I feel as if there is something else that I need to remember."

The nagging thought tickled at the corner of the man's awareness, but it remained just beyond his grasp. Just as he began to despair, a sound touched his soul and brought him out of his introspective state.

"My God! She is singing and the song is the same one she sang in my dream. Could it be that the dream is not mine, but ours? After living with Helen all of these years, I have seen stranger things. Oh! If this sharing of dreams could only be true, my heart would soar to the heavens with joy! How can I know? How shall I ascertain the truth of this thought? Dare I ask her? Oh, Lord! I cannot!"

As he remembered the fervent kisses and the burning, passionate caresses they shared, his face grew hot. His body grew hard once more and he trembled. He felt shame at the almost overpowering lust his body felt as he remembered the soft curves of her body and the jutting points of her nipples. Then a thought struck him and left him breathlessly reeling in shock.

"She is the one that kissed me. What does that mean? Does it mean anything or nothing at all? It must mean something. I do not believe that Christine would grant her favors on someone that meant nothing to her. She is not a wanton strumpet. Perhaps, she only allowed herself to kiss me because she thought herself safe in a dream. After all, dreams are not real. Well, not most of the time, anyway."

He almost chuckled.

"I must speak in private with Helen about this. She needs to know that I may share a bond with her niece. Hmmm ... when was the first time I dreamed of Christine?"

His body gave an involuntary jerk as the likelihood of their first meeting being a coincidence vanished and his mind began its awakening to all of the possibilities this memory implied.

"The first time I met Christine in a dream was the first night I spent sleeping under Helen's roof. It either means everything or it means nothing, but I must know. Damn it! I really do need to speak privately with Helen. Hmmm ...."

A myriad of possibilities ran through the man's mind, each one quickly discarded. He tilted his head back to loosen the muscles in his neck and bit back the sigh, which threatened to escape his pursed lips.

"Simple is best, Erik. Anything complex raises questions. Questions might lead to suspicions and that could be disastrous. So, what to do ... what to do ...."

And, then the man smirked.

"Of course!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Helen sat between Erik and Christine and for the first time in her long life, felt at a loss for words. Her head pounded, but not because of the heady burgundy wine she imbibed. The reason for the pain, which she thought would split open her skull at any moment, were the young couple on either side of her. She had fallen asleep shortly after hearing both of her companions inform her of their intentions to nap. Her sleep had been deep and dreamless, until suddenly she felt as if someone had forcibly taken hold of her and thrust her into a round room. The room felt old with its walls made of rough-hewn stone blocks. The room had no windows, but had several beautiful tapestries adorning the walls. The centerpiece of the otherwise barren room was a large Persian rug. The swirling patterns of the carpet held her eyes and distracted her from noticing that she was not alone in the room, until a man's groan and a woman's sigh drew her attention. Helen gasped as she watched Erik and Christine lying on the rug with their mouths locked in a passionate kiss as their hands ran in feverish exploration over each other's body. The pair took no notice of the old woman, their minds lost in the madness of their newfound desires. Helen staggered and caught herself against the wall as she felt wave after wave of burning passion flow from them. It seemed to Helen that within their bodies burned an internal fire of desperate need. As they lie upon the floor, they writhed, thrust and stroked one another in a frantic attempt to discover the means to quench the flames threatening to consume their souls.

Helen placed a hand to her chest and the crease in her brow deepened further as the pain tore into her body. Her knees buckled and her chin fell to rest upon her chest as she began to construct the spell, which would delay the now certain death that awaited her. She murmured words of the ancient tongue and then fell silent. With a look of steely determination in her eyes, the old woman lifted her head upwards and raised her arms above her head. Her words thundered forth from closed lips, as she reverted to her native French.

"I swore upon the honor of my lineage. Upon the nobility of my mother's line and her mother's and hers and on and on back into the dark recesses of time that I invoke this rite only for the sake of she-who-follows. For myself, I ask nothing. I ask for more time because she is not ready. Please grant me more time, so that I may teach her all that she needs to know."

And then, just as suddenly as the pain began, it was no more. Helen breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.

"Thank you, my God. I shall make the most of the time left to me. Thank you, Lord!"

The old woman glanced at Erik and Christine and shook her head.

"This needs to stop right now. Well, it needs to stop at least until I can speak to each of them separately. There is more here than one night's acquaintance, of that I am certain."

Wrenching herself out of the dream, Helen hopped to her feet. She turned, cleared her throat and loudly proclaimed.

"Erik! Christine! Wake up!"

The sexual tension that Helen sensed between the two continued unabated, so she tried again and placed greater force into her voice.

"Wake up! What is wrong? Christine! Erik! Really! Wake up! Do I need to fetch a pail of cold water and throw it on the two of you? What on earth is going on here?"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Helen allowed herself a minute sigh of relief as she felt her lips curl into a small smile. The emotions she sensed from the two on either side of her were so typical of their widely divergent personalities that she could not help feeling somewhat amused. Her amusement, however, lay thickly entwined with her sense of irony. Erik felt self-loathing and Christine felt anger.

"She lashes out and he whips himself."

A voice speaking quietly into her left ear caused her to start before she realized the source. She arched her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes as she turned to look at Erik. The young man had one foot upon the floor and the other resting upon the seat. He leaned his elbow on his thigh and rested his chin on his hand. He wore a smirk that bordered on the edge of being a grin.

"Madame, might I have a word with you?"

Helen bit her lip and gave Christine a sidelong glance, but the girl seemed lost in her own thoughts, completely unaware of her companions. The old woman returned her attention to Erik. She responded to Erik's inquiry by throwing her voice in the same manner that he had.

"Yes, Erik. I agree. We need to talk. More importantly, I must know what is happening between you and my niece. The emotions between the two of you were so strong that it dragged me into your dream. Really, Erik! You should be ashamed of yourself! How could you be so bold? You only met Christine last night, yet today you kiss her with such passion that had I not interfered, you would have made love to her. What is happening between the two of you? I do not ask this out of idle curiosity. Surely, you must understand my concerns. You must be forthcoming in your response, Erik. Please! The future of my line's heritage rests upon that young woman's shoulders. You must tell me, Erik. You must tell me everything!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Ten – Reality

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The concept of reality is but a philosopher's supposition.  The true nature of reality exists only in the arms of a lover.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man's eyes narrowed in annoyance and sparks blazed in their amber depths. Taking a deep breath, he carefully considered his words before he responded to the woman he loved as a mother. Releasing the breath, he cast his voice allowing it to land quietly just next to the old woman's right ear.

"Helen, I realize that you have many unusual responsibilities and understand your point of view can oft times be called unique. However, I fail to see how the subject matter of my dream is any of your concern. I am not like you. I cannot control the course of my dreams. While I do understand that the actions I partook in my sleep were inappropriate, is it better to release my desire for Christine in my dreams or keep them bottled deep inside me. Madame, it was only a dream. What upsets you about this? And, should I not feel outraged that you violated the sanctity of my mind? You actually entered my dream, unlike Christine. The young woman sitting beside you now was not the being you witnessed in my dream. She was just a wish of mine that was about to come true ...."

The old woman shifted impatiently on the cushioned seat.

"Do you truly believe that? In the course of my duties, I have looked into the dreams of others, as you are well aware and in all my years as the Keeper, never before have I witnessed such a detailed dream manifestation. Erik, you have dreams of people other than Christine, do you not?"

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth and his forehead creased, unseating his mask slightly. He grimaced and quickly pressed the mask back into its proper place.

"You are well aware of the details of some of my dreams, Helen. You also, know how unpleasant they are. Why do you ask?"

She sighed and turned her sorrowful eyes to the floor.

"I do have a reason to ask you such a thing. Think about your dreams, boy. How do your other dreams compare to this one? Do the people in your other dreams seem as real as Christine did in this one?"

"There are only two people, which do not scream or turn away from me in horror or disgust when they gaze upon my unmasked visage, one is you, Madame and the other is Christine. And, you are the only one to look upon me as a normal human in either wakefulness or in sleep. The Christine of my dreams knows me no other way than unmasked and simply accepts me as I am. So, to answer your question, no, no one else that populates my dreams seems as real to me as Christine does ... not even you, Helen. Christine ... well, she is, well, she is different because she is the perfect creation of my dreams. I wish she were real, but ...."

His words ended in an awkward silence. Helen raised her eyes to meet Erik's and he lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. She grimaced and her voice once again wafted through the air to whisper quietly into Erik's ear.

"Oh! Erik, I am sorry! We have been together all these years and I should have known you better than to jump to unjust conclusions. I can only blame my hurtful words on the shock of seeing the two of you thusly engaged. I apologize for my poor reaction and hurtful accusations. I feel dreadful. Especially, now that I find it necessary to tell you something important and I am unsure how you will react to what I have to tell you. If you were not sitting, I would have to caution you to take a seat. However, since you are sitting, I must ask that you not leap from your seat and rush from this compartment when I tell you what you need to know. Can you remain here and be calm? I need to know before I can proceed. You must give me your word, Erik."

She paused and waited for his answer. Helen watched as Erik's eyes bore deeply into her own and then flicked almost wistfully over Christine's still form. His eyes swept back to meet those of the old woman and he dipped his head, granting Helen permission to proceed.

"Madame, I give you my word that I will not react in any way as to cause untoward attention to either of us. I do not wish to drive Christine away by frightening her. I understand her importance and will do nothing to jeopardize your relationship with her. Does that suffice?"

The underlying sadness did not leave the old woman's eyes, but the deep creases of her forehead lifted slightly, as did the corners of her mouth.

"Yes, Erik. I know I can trust you to hold to your word."

She quietly cleared her throat and allowed her eyes to move stealthily over the young woman next to her. Christine sat with her head turned to look out the window of the train, but Helen felt that the girl's mind was not seeing the passing countryside and that her thoughts were far away.

"Well, it seems that she already knows the truth of the matter. This complicates things further. I am confused. Christine is not a wanton creature. How is it that she allowed Erik to touch her in such a manner after such a short acquaintance? There is something more to this than meets the eye."

"Very well, Erik. First, I need to know something. Is this the first time you have dreamed of Christine?"

Helen felt her breath catch in her throat as she watched Erik's reaction. The smallest of squeaks issued from his mouth before he blinked and regained control. His voice resumed smoothly in her ear.

"No, it is not. The night she made her debut was a night of firsts for me. The first night I spent in your house and the first time someone held me was the first time I met an angel in my dreams. I met a small girl with the voice of an angel and the temper of a wild cat. We argued and I believe we flung the word, 'stupid' at one another. She appeared in my dreams quite frequently during the first year or two I lived with you. Then, suddenly, I dreamt of her no more. Seeing her walk into Monsieur le Comte de Mornay's kitchen was quite unnerving, but I thought I hid it well enough. Believe me, Helen, I am as surprised as you are by the happenings in the dream you interrupted. How could someone I never met appear in my dreams? The fact she exists as a real person is unreal enough, but then to discover she is your niece, well, that pushes things into the area of the surreal. You would think after everything I have seen during my time with you, I would be prepared for anything, but it is quite different watching something of this nature happen to others than experiencing it yourself ...."

He shook his head, his eyes lingering for a moment on Christine before tearing them away.

"Helen, I have never asked anything of you, but now I have no choice. What is happening?"

She met his eyes and calmly explained.

"Erik, you and Christine were not dreaming. Well, in the conventional sense, you were dreaming. Both of you were asleep. Both of you dreamed, but ... instead of dreaming alone, the two of you shared your dream. I have never heard of this happening. In fact, if I had not witnessed it, I would have thought it impossible. Yet, the two of you met once upon a dream. And, while both of you slept, you interacted just as certainly as if you had met while walking down a path. If you were to ask Christine about any of the dreams, she will remember everything that happened in them. Just as you, remember them, Erik. Of course, the memories are from her perspective, so they will differ from your memories, Erik. But, is that not the way of things in life? The eternal triangle of sides ... your side, the other's side and the truth. Perhaps, you now understand my shock when something pulled me into your latest dream. I knew you and Christine were real and not dream images. I did not know that you were unaware."




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 11-15



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Chapter Eleven – Thunder

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Harken to the booming thunder as it rumbles across the heavens,  much as the thudding heart of a lover pounds wildly within its breast.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erik leapt from his seat and knelt before her. He roughly took each of her upper arms in his hands and pushed her back down into her seat. She struggled against him for a moment, but Erik refused to release her from his grip. Her eyes met his and he inwardly gasped at the depth of fury contained within the twin chocolate pools. Still, he managed to maintain his calm and hold onto the young woman.

"Monsieur, if you do not release me, I shall be forced to scream …."

And, that was it. That was when Erik could stand it no more. His tenuous claim to control over his body slipped from him. He leaned forward, pressed his lips to hers and claimed her mouth with a passionate kiss.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Christine stared sullenly out of the train compartment's window.

"How can this be happening? One moment, I am in a state of sheer bliss and the next, I awaken to find myself feeling utterly embarrassed by knowing that Helen witnessed Erik and I in a compromising situation. I cannot believe that Helen saw us. I cannot believe she saw the passion that Erik and I shared. Yet, she says nothing about it now. How did she find her way into our dream? And, as if Helen seeing us were not bad enough, now, Erik chooses to ignore me. He pretends that nothing happened between us. How could he? How can he? What is wrong with him? Or, is there something wrong with me? Am I the one with the problem? Did I misinterpret the look in his eyes? Did I alone feel the overwhelming power of the sensations caused by the touch of our skin upon skin? Perhaps, I allowed my loneliness to trick me into believing he feels something for me other than lust. He is, after all, just a man and I have seen what men do when given the opportunity. I was so certain that he had feelings for me, but there he is. Just look at him! Look at the way he sits there! He looks so cocky, so pleased with himself that I just want to scream at him! I want to sink my nails into his eyes and tear the gloating expression from them. I want to slap that smirk from his lips. Argh! Men! They are so insufferable! And yet, I wish that Helen did not interrupt us. I wonder … I wish …."

She wanted to release her frustration and confusion by screaming, but knew that she could not, so she silently sat there and fumed. She sat and stared unseeingly at the rapidly passing countryside, as her disappointment fermented into annoyance, which swiftly matured into outright fury, which she directed solely upon Erik.

"He is such an arrogant prick! I hate him! I hate him! I hate him!"

Further and further, her mind spiraled into an inferno of rage against the man. She became so lost in her endless loop of fuming that she failed to hear Helen's words. Nor did she notice the words, which issued from her lips in response. The old woman's departure did not make a dent in her awareness, but the man's sudden movement and subsequent touch upon her arm, did. The slight pressure of his hand upon her instantly stilled her roiling emotions and she focused upon him with a clarity she found almost frightening.

"Now he wishes to talk? Well, Erik, it is too little, too late! The time for talking is past. I have nothing to say to you anymore. In fact, I do not need to be here! I am a grown woman now. I make my own decisions, not you. Why am I still here anyway? I am not beholden to you, I am leaving!"

She allowed her fiery gaze to run briefly over the man and she moved to stand. The world swirled before her as her mind overloaded on the sensations of the moment. She felt his hands take hold of her upper arms and thrust her back into her seat. She winced as her head snapped backward and cracked against the wood paneling of the compartment's wall. The pain caused a bright flash of light, which temporarily blinded her. However, the warm press of his hands upon her arms aroused her shocked mind and prompted her to struggle against his commanding hands. Realizing the futility of her actions, she ceased her struggles and allowed his hands to restrain her. The fire of her anger surged and burned so hot through her that it seemed cold. She struggled to breathe, but the heavy, frozen weight, which pressed upon her chest made it almost impossible. A small part of Christine's mind listened in horror as her mouth moved and the words she expelled fell like blocks of ice from her lips.

"Monsieur, if you do not release me, I shall be forced to scream …."

"No! No! No! It is not supposed to be this way! Oh, Erik! Why do you torture me so? Why can you not remember me?"

And, then just as the cold began seeping into the last bit of Christine's mind, Erik's mouth crashed down upon hers sending a firestorm of desire throughout her body. As the heat spread, it burned away the heaviness from her heart and she unknowingly lifted her hand to cup his unmasked cheek. As his searing kisses ravaged her mouth, the young man's passion claimed her as his own and she surrendered to her yearning to live forever in the sweetness of this moment.

"Oh, Erik! Yes! Yes! My God! You do remember! Yes! You do!"

As those last thoughts burst from her mind, her body and soul took over to revel in the sensations burning through her. The young woman succumbed to her overwhelming need to discover more about what she could touch with her hands and with her lips. And, as she pushed aside caution, surrendering herself to the passion, thunder rumbled in the distance unnoticed by the man and woman. However, someone leaning against a wall nearby did notice it. The body lurched upright at the sound and froze. Then, with a shocked gasp, began to run.

"Oh! Fuck! No!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Helen unseeingly made her way down the length of the train cars. Passing from one car to the next, not noticing anything around her. Her mind focused on the task she must soon undertake. She bumped into a metal rail, which blocked her path and blinked. She stood looking at the receding train tracks and countryside.

"Hmmm …. I am fortunate for the railing or I might have walked right off the train. Well, I had best return to see if Erik and Christine are reconciled. I would not want things to get out of hand. No, that would not do at all. Not that I do not trust Erik, but …."

She chuckled and turned to walk back through the train. After moving through several cars, Helen paused in the middle of a gently rocking corridor. She rested her aching body, leaning against the wall for support. A groan almost escaped her lips and her hand began to massage the valley between her breasts.

"Aw, hell! The gods do task me. After all my years of service and all that I sacrificed, for them almost to allow the legacy to die with me is quite disturbing and confuses me greatly. For me to finally find the girl and then know that my sands have almost made their last pass through the hourglass is … well, disheartening at best, but I must make the most of the time I have."

She sighed deeply.

"I suppose I should be grateful that the enchantment worked. Now, if I could only be certain of how much time I have and whether it will suffice."

The rumbling sound of distant thunder interrupted her reverie and she bolted upright from the wall.

"Oh! Fuck! No!"

Steeling her resolve, she forced her legs to her will and ran to the compartment. The hairs on the backs of her arms and on the top of her head tingled and lifted with static electricity with each step she took closer to the young woman. Again, Helen heard the crack of thunder, but this time it sounded much closer.

"Oh, shit!"

Winded, she paused before the sliding door. Her chest rose and fell in rapid succession as her breath wheezed in and out of her lungs. She leaned forward slightly and rested her hands on her thighs to calm herself. After a moment, her breathing slowed, she straightened and raised her hand to knock upon the door. Thunder boomed all around her, but other than lifting her eyes heavenward, the old woman seemed to pay no heed to the sound, but she winced inwardly. Her hand fell and rapped sharply against the door. She smirked at the panic she heard in the muffled voices, which emanated through the wood panel and waited. After several moments, Erik slid open the door.

"Yes, Madame? Is there something you require?"

Helen cast an appraising look over the man before her. She took note of the fact that he stood blocking her view of Christine and that his normally pallid complexion appeared almost rosy. Helen bit her bottom lip.

"Erik, I thought that perhaps it best if I returned to the compartment. It would not do for someone to notice the two of you alone in here. It is, after all, quite inappropriate for Christine to sit with you unchaperoned. I must apologize to you, Christine. It has been many years since I worried about my reputation, so I only just realized my mistake in leaving you here with Erik. Of course," Helen glared at Erik as she spoke, "Erik would never do anything that might sully your reputation. But, I thought it best not to run the risk. One never knows who may see what and then say something to whomever."

"Well, I believe you know my opinion on society and its priggish propriety, but I do not wish to cause Christine any undue distress, so I bow to your more level head, Madame."

He stepped aside and swept his arm across his body to wave her into the compartment.

"After you, Madame."

He cocked his head to one side, raised his one eyebrow and with his lips pressed tightly together, his mouth stretched into a heart-stopping grin.

Helen shook her head at him and rolled her eyes.

"The way you act today causes me to reconsider my opinion of you and makes me wonder how and where you learned such provocative behavior. If you had not lived with me for the last eleven years, I would seriously believe you a scoundrel and womanizer of the worst sort. Erik, do you fully understand how much a rogue you appear when you do things like that? You are fortunate that I know you so well or I would not have left Christine alone with you just now."

She gave him a playful smack on his arm as she passed. As she began to reclaim her seat in the middle of the bench, a flushed Christine cleared her throat.

"Um … Madame? Do you think that you might … well, I mean, would it be acceptable … oh! Helen, I would like Erik to sit next to me. If that is acceptable to you. We were in the midst of a discussion and, well, I just thought having him sit next to me would make talking with him easier."

The young woman's voice stumbled to a halt and her flushed face burned a brilliant scarlet.

"Oh, no, Christine. I do not mind at all. Erik? Please continue with your … um … conversation. I believe I shall take a short nap. This has been a rather exhausting day and it is not even Noon yet. Please wake me when we arrive in Paris."

She slowly sank onto the bench and nestled her backside into the corner of the compartment. Her gaze ran over her companions and she watched as they quietly spoke. The folds of flesh, which lined her face deepened into a gentle smile as she watched Erik, oblivious of his actions, enfold Christine's hand within his.

"Well, it seems that whatever Erik did to apologize, Christine accepted it and forgave him. Everything is proceeding better than I anticipated, almost too well! Damn it, but that was a close thing. Too close! It would most likely be a prudent course of action on my part to keep a sharp eye on those two. Ah, young love! So beautiful, so strong and so completely out of control. I need to tell Erik why it is so very important to take a care for her maidenhead. He would not want Christine to end up like me! Oh, no! He would not care for that at all, of that, I am certain. After all these years that I spent searching for the girl, one would think that I would have planned what I need to say to her, but I have no idea how to broach all I need to say. There is so much to tell and for a girl raised with no experience of things, which lie beyond the natural world, I have no idea where I should start. Damn! I truly am feeling every one of my years today."

"Sleep calls to you, crone. Remember your folly and save the girl from one of her own."

The bracelet sparkled and burned with a rapidly fading scarlet light. Helen surrendered to the pull of Hypnos and slept soundly. Unfortunately for the old woman, Morpheus touched her sleeping form and pushed her peaceful sleep into a dream that led her into a nightmare.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Twelve – Choices

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History is a series of colorful events scrawled by men into the dust.  Life soars, daring us to rise above the earth and the choices we make.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Helen's choked breath heaved from her lungs, almost giving a voice to the complete revulsion she felt. Her mind reeled in shocked horror as she struggled against the hands that roamed, groped, pinched, poked and clutched over the ripe, young curves of her body. Her young, strong yet, small hands grappled against the much larger and stronger ones that attempted to pin her to the hard, dusty ground. She knew the battle in which she currently found herself engaged was already lost, but still, she could not … no, would not admit defeat. Although she fiercely struggled against the brute who wished to claim her virtue, she felt a part of her mind slip away. It seemed to hover above her and watched as the wretched young woman writhed beneath the swarthy man in her pathetic attempt to free herself from him. That small part of her looked with detached interest at the small motes of dust raised by her pounding fists and kicking legs in the dark corner of the carnival tent. She heard the raucous sound of many voices raised in merry conversation on the other side of the canvas.

"So close … so close! And yet, none would hear me if I screamed. No one would take note, thinking me just another girl frightened by one of the poor unfortunates on display in the sideshow. Goddess, why? Oh, why? Why is this the way I shall lose my innocence? Oh, Mother Goddess, your hapless babe needs your protection. Please? Help me survive this!"

And, the floating essence of the girl watched as tears began to stream from the pair of rich sapphire-hued eyes of the body to which she knew she belonged. The part of her that soared free of her physical form wanted to pull the abused girl into her arms and console her. But, all she could do was hover above her and watch the horror unfold.

Suddenly, Helen found the separate parts of her mind reunited as a huge fist slammed into the side of her jaw. She reeled, seeing flashes of light sparkle about her and a tempting darkness beckoned to her, but she steadfastly refused to submit to the temptation to yield, to surrender. A crude, raspy voice snapped her consciousness back into the present.

"Lay still, girlie! If ye do no … well, I will find it necessary to give ye another one of me little love taps and then, ye will no trouble me no more. I really do prefer me fucks to be living and kicking when I plow 'em, but I will takes it as I can gets it. If ye knows what I mean."

He leered down into her face, a string of drool dripped from the corner of his mouth to land on her chin. She shuddered in disgust and turned her face away from him. His lust-glazed eyes roamed over her beautiful, but bruised face and he sneered. Another disgusting rivulet of saliva oozed from between his lips as he took in the long, wavy coal black hair, which splayed about her head like a dark halo. The deep, hypnotic, sapphire blue of her eyes and the unearthly translucence of her skin lent a sharp contrast to her ebony mane. The man ran his thick tongue over his chops as he took in the sight of her full, pouting lips, which were blood red and swollen from his mouth's crude demands on them. The sight of the woman struggling beneath him pleased him immensely and he ground the proof of his pleasure into her belly.

"If ye did no wish for ole John Thomas to be taking ye, ye should have stayed at home. Now, spread yer legs, bitch! Do it! Or, do ye wish for me to be giving ye another little pat on the cheek?"

Helen whimpered at the thought of the man taking her unconscious body. His calloused hands grabbed her slender shoulders, his talon-like fingertips digging into her soft flesh. He lifted her slightly from the ground and gave her body one violent shake, which whipped her head forward and back.

"Well, cunt? Yeah or nae?" He growled dangerously.

She squeezed closed her eyes and shook her head.

"No! I cannot allow his seed to take hold in my womb. I must remain awake. I need to fight him in the way of my family. I must begin the incantation, so I may protect my womb; prevent a child coming of this unholy act. If only my family's gift granted me the power to place a hex upon his loins, I would, but …."

As she ceased her struggles, relaxed her body and surrendered to the gypsy's lewd demands, she heard the sound of his arrogant laughter slowly fading from her consciousness. Helen drew an invisible veil between her mind and body. She silently droned the words of the enchantment within her mind that she never thought to use as she felt him claw and tear away at her clothes. She called upon the Mother Goddess and prayed for her torment to end.

As the man took her body, she felt the presence of the Goddess carefully take hold in her mind. The touch was comfortably warm, dark and safe. It whisked Helen's spirit to a place far from where her violated body lie wracked in pain. Her soul rejoiced in the darkness and with invisible fingers, greedily gathered the gloom about her, until her essence lie profoundly within its depths. Alone in the darkness of her soul, her fury burst free and she conceived the plan, which would wreak her vengeance upon the man. She turned her back on the comfort of the Mother Goddess and began to set free the bindings of her power.

"Girl, the thing you set free was meant to heal, not to kill."

The voice echoed through Helen's mind, but she paid it no heed for her anger completely consumed her. She called down the fire from the heavens. Amidst an explosion of light and sound, Helen heard the man's scream and felt his body jerk spastically then grow still. She heaved the now dead man away from her abused body and cried. It was at that moment that Helen felt the first stone blocks of a great wall begin to drop around her heart.

"Girl, you made your choice. It is now time to pay the piper. Come with me!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"No!"

The wrinkled, old woman screamed and bolted upright, her hands raised protectively before her chest. Her eyes darted about the small compartment, searching for … something. With a sigh, her gaze fell to her wrist and she sadly stroked one of the crystal beads with her thumb. After a moment, she looked up to find two sets of eyes staring at her. Christine's eyes full of worry and confusion. Erik's hooded orbs full of his sadness and love.

Helen in an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere joked.

"Why are you two staring at me? Oh, please! Do not tell me that I have suddenly grown a second head?"




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 11-15



She gave the pair a look of mock horror and frantically patted her body as if she searched for the extra body part. When she saw that her humor did not achieve the desired result, she sighed.

"I must apologize if I frightened you, Christine. As Erik can attest, I suffer horrendous nightmares from time to time and that is why I called out. There is no rest for the wicked, my dear. And, I am very wicked."

The old woman gave a tired smile and Erik spoke softly to Helen in a language Christine did not understand. After a short exchange between the young man and old woman, Erik surprised Christine by placing a gentle kiss upon Helen's forehead. Christine blinked her surprise as Helen lifted her hand to Erik's cheek and gave it a soft pat. It seemed to Christine that as soon as Helen remembered her presence, the woman's demeanor reverted to her normal gruff and blustery persona. Christine turned to look out the window for a moment to hide her smile.

"These two constantly surprise me as they are never exactly what I expect. I knew they cared for each other, but I had no idea that their feelings ran so deep. Knowing that they have had one another to depend upon lifts a shadow from my heart. I can hardly believe that I feel so at peace sitting here with the two of them, especially after how furious I felt with Erik. But, I guess his kisses and caresses helped me find my way back to how I truly feel about these two. I am amazed! I have not felt this content since before my father fell ill. When I am with the two of them, I feel as if I am home. Yes, that is what this feeling is like. I am home."

She moved her gaze away from the window and returned her eyes to look into Erik's once more. Moments passed by the pair unnoticed as they sat holding hands. They gazed deeply into one another's eyes and drank deep of the emotions they found there. Emotions stirred to the surface only by the sight of their beloved's glance. And, when the passion contained in their eyes became too much, they closed their eyes and calmed their breathing by resting their foreheads together.

Helen sat with her arms folded across her breast and watched her niece and the young man she loved as a son.

"Oh, they are besotted with one another." She sighed inwardly. "I must tell them and there is no better time than the present."

Helen delicately cleared her throat.

"Christine, there is something you must know before you make your decision about accepting my offer of room and board."

The old woman held up her hand to ward off the young woman's stream of questions before they began to flow.

"Please, hear me out first. Then you may ask as many questions as it takes to fulfill the desire in your heart. Will you grant an old woman that wish?"

A tremor of apprehension ran through the girl's slight form, but she nodded her assent.

The old woman's pale blue eyes darkened into a vibrant sapphire blue and seemed to look upon something neither of the two young people could see. For an instant, Erik and Christine caught a glimpse of a raven-haired beauty sitting in the place of the old woman before the familiar wrinkled visage returned. Erik smiled softly as he recognized the face revealed to him on the first night he met Helen. Christine gaped in stunned silence and then blurted.

"You … you looked just like my mother did. Who are you?"

Helen's hands went to the chain she wore about her throat and pulled a filigreed gold locket from its resting place beneath the bodice of her gown. Her hands trembled as she fumbled briefly with the catch on the locket. Much like a 'jack in the box,' the locket popped open and leapt from Helen's fingers, stopped only by the length of chain holding it in place about her neck. She lifted the chain over her head and took the locket into the palm of her hand. A bittersweet smile pulled at the corners of Helen's mouth as she gazed down at the portraits inside the locket. She beckoned the pair to come closer and held out her hand so they could see the likenesses of two young women.

Two seemingly identical young women.

"I am the one on the right as I am the younger sister. The girl on the left is my sister, Christelle, my older sister … my older, twin sister. She died in childbirth 18 years ago. You grew up knowing her as Christelle Daae, but in keeping with our ways, the traditions of our family, it is customary for the name to pass from mother to daughter, not father to wife and offspring. Your mother's true name was Christelle Claudette de Blanc as mine is Hélène Manon de Blanc. I realize that you have no knowledge of your mother's family as your father, while being an honorable man and a good husband and father, did not understand or approve of us and kept you hidden from us. When your mother passed, your father informed us via the post then he took you and disappeared."

Christine appeared mesmerized by the pictures held in the locket. Without a thought, she scooped the locket from Helen's palm and held it up to catch the light streaming through the compartment's window. She tilted it first one way and then another as she intently studied the faces.

After a long pause, she lifted her eyes to Helen and whispered.

"You are my aunt?"

The old woman gave a slow single nod of her head.

The deep earthen-hued eyes turned to gaze upon the locket and then returned to the old woman's face.

"May I ask a question of you, Helen?"

Again, the old woman responded with a single nod. Christine's eyes fell to the locket and then rose to Helen's face once again. A frown tugged her mouth down and furrowed her brows.

"What happened to you?"

Erik hissed and Helen sighed.

"Erik, do not become upset. She has every right to ask, as she is a kin to the bloodline that caused me to look like this. Christine, do you wish to know what happened or why it happened?"

"Madame, I wish to know everything, so it would probably be best to start at the beginning. If I am a part of the de Blanc family, perhaps telling me something of their … our history would be the best place to begin. After the dreams I shared with Erik, I feel fairly certain there is something about our line, something that makes us different from other families. Is this true? No, wait …. Perhaps, a better question to ask is what makes us different from other families? I already know we are different, I just do not know why."

A genuinely amused smile pushed up the distorted corners of the old woman's mouth and her crooked teeth shone a brilliant white.

The gentle rocking of the train changed and it began to sway from side-to-side as the straight line of tracks became a long, deep bend and turned the train from its easterly direction into a northerly one. The new heading allowed golden rays of sunlight to streak directly into the compartment. One shaft of golden brilliance struck Helen's wrist, which resulted in a flash of rainbow colored light dazzling the occupants of the compartment.

"What was that?" Christine gasped.

Helen smirked, held out her arm, pushed up her sleeve and jiggled her wrist to show the bracelet to Christine. The young woman's breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard to clear it.

"May …. May I touch it?" She asked tentatively as she reached out a hand towards it.

Helen snatched her hand back and lowered her sleeve over the bracelet.

"Sorry, but no. You may not. It is not safe for you to do that yet. For although it calls to you, you must learn of it first. As with all things of power, it is a double-edged sword. So, ma petit belle, I shall tell you that the history of the de Blanc women and the history of this bracelet are one in the same. The lives of the eldest women in our family both control its power and fall under its control, as it is this bracelet, which makes us different. And, it is to this bracelet, which binds all of our lives. Even you, Erik, are bound to it as you felt its power on that night so long ago. I know not the where's, how's or why's of the bracelet. Those answers lost or hidden by its creators. All I know is that the bracelet has been a part of our family far back into time, longer than Paris has been a city. I found a scroll written in an ancient form of Latin and another written in what I believe might be a form of early Greek, but I am not sure. Anyway, those scrolls are a part of our heritage as the authors were our ancestors. My only regret is that I cannot read them. You see, I was not the one intended to wear the bracelet, but your mother was. From the moment of our births, our mother trained and taught her of it secrets and powers. I watched and learned as well, but I learned out of curiosity not need. And, that is why," the old woman paused and waved a hand toward her face, "this happened. I did not learn that compassion must walk hand-in-hand with power. I earned this face."

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Chapter Thirteen – Diamanté

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Diamonds are for royalty, luscious and rich. Charms for the rest of us to savor each wish. 

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The words hung in the air, like an almost visible puff of smoke in the otherwise bright compartment. Christine's hand unconsciously moved to Erik's and their fingers once again intertwined. Helen allowed her eyes to rest on their joined hands for a moment as she drew strength from the bond that the two young people shared. She almost gasped out her shock as her mind brushed against theirs and she felt the depth and power of their love for one another.

"Ils semblent ensorcelé¹. Their love is a blessing and a curse, their greatest strength and their greatest weakness. Damn!"

The three companions sat in silence, Erik and Christine relishing the rich emotions, which swept through them and Helen contemplating how she should proceed. Christine broke the quiet moment, surprising Helen with her words.

"Very well, I suppose I accept that I am a part of your family, but my question to you is this, what exactly is the bracelet? You said that the power of the bracelet is a part of the de Blanc women. 

What is the power of the bracelet? What does it do? And, if you know, why must a de Blanc woman wield it?"

Helen's wrinkled forehead lifted as she arched an eyebrow, causing the folds of skin to deepen. She shook her head as a corner of the gaping hole of her mouth turn upward in a smirk.

"Well, fuck me! Why is it that I feel surprised? I should know better than to think Christelle's child would be a fool! Fine! You asked the proper questions and I thank you for that, Christine. You need to know what the bracelet is and what it does before I tell you my tale."

Leaning forward, she pushed the sleeve of her dress back to uncover the bracelet once more. The crystals flashed and sparkled in the sunlight. Except for the rainbow prisms bouncing about the compartment each time a facet caught the sunlight, the bracelet appeared a simple charm bracelet. The delicate bracelet itself consisted of alternating large and small twisted-oval yellow gold links. The eleven charms hung directly from the smaller links and the larger links each had either a diamond-shaped or an oval-shaped crystal mounted in the center. The charms were in the shapes of stars, moons, sunbursts, rosebuds and a single heart³. All of the exquisitely shaped pieces of crystal were clear, colorless and pure. All of the crystals, except for the heart. The heart crystal was a deep blood-red and it seemed to draw the eye and speak to the soul of anyone that noticed it.

"Tell me what you dream …."

The words seemed to echo inside Christine's head as well as around the interior of the compartment. Christine shook her head to clear the sudden confusion she felt.

"What? Helen, what did you just say?"

The old woman sighed and lowered her sleeve. As soon as Erik lost sight of the bracelet, he let out a groan and quickly placed his hand to his forehead.

"What the hell just happened?" He moaned.

With pursed lips, Helen shook her head.

"Can you not behave? She is of the blood and he is most likely her mate. Do not make sport of them! I warn you!"

Helen sighed when she received no response from the surly spirit.

"I apologize. Sometimes it seems as if Diamanté cannot help herself. She feels compelled to tease, taunt and torment. She forgets how to behave whenever she is around, well, certain types of energy. And, the two of you seem to produce an abundance of the necessary stimulus for her to act a bit wild. You would think someone as old as she is would learn a bit more control."

The old woman seemed to mutter to her lap where the wrist wearing the bracelet lay. A single pulse of red light flashed through the cloth of Helen's sleeve and then the tension, which none of them had noticed until that moment ebbed away.

"No pouting and no more games! Behave yourself and be nice to them, Diamanté! The young woman is the next keeper of the bracelet and you should attempt to get along with her, as I believe the two of you shall hold the power for many years. Well, if all goes well, that is. Now, if you do not mind, I need to tell this young woman our tale."

"A story? You shall tell our story?" A pause. "Very well, old woman. You may proceed. For now, I shall remain silent. This may prove most entertaining."

Helen fought the impulse to roll her eyes and took a slow, deep breath.

"To begin answering your questions, Christine, the power of the bracelet varies from keeper to keeper. I am definitely one of the lesser wielders of the powers as I was not adequately prepared. Your mother, on the other hand, with her knowledge could have been quite powerful, but fear of the bracelet made her run from it. My mother used the bracelet with an awesome skill, but lacked passion. And yet, all wielders do have certain abilities in common. All of us can summon a rainbow, we can hear the truth or a lie in people's words and we hold the power to make some dreams come true. It took a great deal of effort, but my mother could summon or banish a rainstorm and she told me tales of her grandmother. Supposedly, that woman could cause lightning to strike when angered. She could also hear the thoughts of others and speak into the minds of people that were far away, but I do not know if this is true. All of the de Blanc women have the innate ability to cast charms, glamours and certain spells, if they receive the training. We also can hear the voice of the wind and the music of the movement of the trees. The power of the bracelet lies in the spirit, which lives within it. Her name is Diamanté. I do not know much of her history. Unfortunately, the two of us, well, we do not get along very well. I believe that our differences are mostly my fault, but there is nothing I can do to change that."

"You could change it, if you could go back in time and change the past, old woman!"

"Such things are not allowed. As you very well know, so please, be silent!"

"I will keep silent, but only because I choose to do so and not because you command me! You only have use of the power because I allow it. You are truly the least deserving of all the women in your lineage. I despise you!"

Christine stared intently at Helen for a moment and frowned.

"How can you allow her to speak to you like that?"

Helen gaped at the earnest young woman.

"You … you can hear her?"

Her frown deepened and she gave a small shrug.

"Well, besides being rather rude to you, she is rather loud."

The old woman chuckled. Erik looked at Christine, confused.

"Who is rude? My dear, who can you hear?"

As Erik's endearment registered in Christine's ears, she froze with her lips parted. The words she intended to utter stuck in her throat as a large lump of happiness swelled there.

Seeing the expression on Christine's face, Helen smirked and leaned forward. She carefully patted the young man's masked face and graced him with a gentle smile.

"She can hear the spirit of the bracelet speaking to me. It speaks with a voice that can only be heard within one's mind." Helen replied.

"And, I think her to be incredibly rude not to mention, cruel! Madame, why does she act this way towards you? Surely, you did nothing to warrant such behavior. I simply cannot imagine you guilty of any act, which would cause her to act thus. While I find you to be a bit crude at times, I believe you use that as a façade to protect your true self. What happened?" The young woman inquired.

Helen turned away and looked to the floor, her eyes filled with shame.

"Ah, dear little one! I only wish I were as innocent as you believe. I had a moment of weakness and used the power of the bracelet in a way that was not proper. I used it to wreak my vengeance upon a man that stole my innocence from me. I did not intend for him to die, but he did. And, now I must spend the rest of my life in penance as I seek absolution for my sin. The power of the bracelet is never to be used selfishly or in anger and I did both. In Diamante's mind, I committed the one unforgiveable act. Through my fury, I caused her power to kill. She will never forgive me, nor will she allow me to forget either. However, now that I have found you, I find myself hoping that I can help put things aright by helping you claim your birthright. Perhaps, then I can find some measure of peace. At least you have given me hope, Christine. Hope that I may find forgiveness for my sin."

"You shall find neither peace nor forgiveness, Crone. Not unless you make your confession to the little one."

"Hush, Diamante! Why do you think I say these things to the child? Confession is exactly what I intend to do. I only need you to remain silent long enough for me to do so."

"Very well. Please, proceed."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

¹"Ils semblent ensorcelé." Translation: They seem bewitched.

² Charms go back as far as the Neolithic period where man would pick up an unusual stone or piece of wood and carry it with him to ward off his enemies. Elaborate jewelry made of precious stones and metals emerged during the age of the Egyptian Pharaohs. It was during this time that the first recognizable charm bracelets and necklaces first appeared.

Like people of many ancient civilizations, the citizens of ancient Egypt lived very short lives by today's standard – 30 to 40 years on average. With so little time on earth, they obsessively prepared for a prosperous life after death. Charm bracelets played a significant role in the preparation process. Charm wrist and neck bracelets were not only coveted as protective shields and signs of status in this life, they were also worn as ID tags to help the Gods guide the wearer and his/her possessions to the proper status level in the afterlife. Kind of an "if found, please return to" note from home. (Courtesy of MyMothersCharms.com)

³ When a person wears a charm bracelet, each charm has a meaning. Here are the meanings of some of the charms on Helen's bracelet: Heart Charm – True love will find you. Rose Charm – You will have a life of beauty. Star Charm – You will have your wishes granted.

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Chapter Fourteen – Homecoming

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To travel the world is a pleasure sublime when the treasure of homecoming is certain in time.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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Helen opened her mouth to begin her confession, but a knock on the compartment's sliding door interrupted her. Before anyone could respond to the rap, the door slid open and a tall, rather effeminate man with a thin, black mustache stuck his head through the opening.




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 11-15



"Next stop, Paris! Ten minutes!" He announced succinctly and without another word or waiting for a response, he withdrew and slid the door closed with a soft thud.

"Damn it! I guess the fates wish to draw this out for as long as possible. Hmmm …. Christine, do you intend to accept my invitation and stay in my home?"

Helen bit back a smirk as she saw the young woman's grip on Erik's hand tighten and her eyes locked onto his. He cocked his head and gave her a hopeful nod, which caused a relieved smile to settle across her lips.

"If you are still willing to have me and it will not cause you any inconvenience, I would very much like to stay with Erik and you."

Helen surrendered to her overwhelming urge and smirked at the young woman.

"Christine, please, rest assured that your presence in my home is not inconvenient. Erik and I are pleased to have you as a guest for as long as you wish. Is that not true, Erik?"

Erik's face turned a deep crimson and he nodded his assent, while at the same time he maintained a grip on her hand that looked almost painful. Christine, however, did not seem to mind his touch, but rather, leaned into him and smiled demurely.

"Oh! This should prove most interesting. These two will make me wish that chastity belts were still readily available. Perhaps, they still have such things in Persia. I should ask Nadir to get one for Christine and he can bring it with him along with Edgar. No, that will take too long and by the time he arrives, we will be christening their babe. Well, it seems that I must pay the apothecary a visit and purchase some Monk's Pepper. Hopefully, that will cool the boy down long enough for me to impress upon the two of them the dangers of passing certain boundaries. Ah, hell! The two of them are almost past the point of no return right now! How can I demand that they wait? Neither of them has ever known real love … well, ever. I wish it did not matter, but …."

For the first time in their long relationship, Helen heard Diamanté's voice sound quietly and gently within her head.

"The girl cannot hear us, so do not protest. Do not worry for the children, old one. We will watch over both of them. Nothing untoward shall happen to either the girl or her mate. Do not meddle with the boy. Together we shall make a trip to the apothecary unnecessary. They may be young, but they are not stupid. You just need to tell them why they must wait. I am certain the boy cares enough for the girl that he will reign in his desires for a time. Perhaps, I have been wrong about you. It seems that you are not entirely worthless. Perhaps, it is I, who forgot that where there is life, there is hope. At our parting of the ways, I may owe you an apology. I just may …. Hmmm …. Interesting …. It is not often that I am surprised, but I find it a welcome change, Helen."

Helen's mind reeled as a wave of pleasant shock rolled through her tired, old body.

"She called me by my name. She has never done that before. Christine, my child, it seems that you transform all those around you for the better. You bring love to Erik, peace to Diamanté and to me you give me hope again."

Helen smiled broadly and snatched her brilliantly colored carpet bag from the overhead luggage storage. She turned to her two dazed and besotted companions.

"So, it is settled. Come! Let us begin the final leg of our journey home."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

The companions made the trek from the train station to Helen's cottage in a comfortable silence. Erik and Christine murmured quietly to one another. Occasionally, Helen caught the two of them stealing a kiss or one-armed embrace, but for the most part, the only sounds came from the gentle swaying of the trees in the breeze, the birds scolding the humans for being too near their nests or the small woodland creatures scampering to hide from the thundering feet of the giants invading their domain.

The day had been bright and warm for an early spring day, but as the sun began to set, the breeze became chilly and the three found it necessary to don their cloaks. Soon, the hoods on their cloaks became an indispensible part of their attire. The formal layout of the woods soon thickened into a true forest and the path narrowed. Christine paused for a moment and lifted her head, a look of intense concentration on her lovely face.

"I hear music. Do I not? How can I hear music here … in the middle of nowhere?"

She bit her lip and her eyes narrowed as if she worried over the state of her sanity.

Erik chuckled softly and pulled her against him. He nuzzled his lips against the side of her neck and whispered.

"Indeed, my dear. You hear the music of the night."

As he caught her look of confused skepticism, he smirked.

"Very well … I will not tease you. There is a brook, which runs nearby. Tomorrow I shall show you how it creates the music. Helen and I find that it keeps the more superstitious of our neighbors away from our home. And, we enjoy hearing its ever-changing melody. I believe that our adaptation of Water Music is much nicer than George Frideric Handel's version. What do you think, my love?"

She returned his teasing tone with her own witty response.

"Actually, Erik, I believe that the music you and I make in the night would be the sweetest rendition of all."

Shock and desire raced through Erik's tall form and he choked on his indrawn breath. Christine blushed furiously as she patted him on his back and Helen roared with laughter.

"I do believe the two of you shall prove more entertaining to live with than any romantic comedy I could ever hope to see on the stage in Paris. I only hope we all survive the experience. Really, Christine, if you want the boy, you should try not to kill him before you are ready to wed and bed him." Helen teased unmercifully. "Well, Erik, if you can catch your breath and walk without choking again, we should be home in less than five minutes as the cottage is just around the next bend."

Christine twirled about merrily and backed away from Erik. She leaned forward and taunted.

"Are you up to a challenge, Monsieur? Last one to the cottage must gather wood for the fire!"

And, with a peal of laughter, she turned and her lithe form nimbly sprinted down the path. Her slender shape briefly brought the image of a fleet gazelle to Helen's mind, but she lost sight of the young woman as Erik leapt after her. Helen could not help but join in Christine's laughter at the spectacle the two young people made and she slowly began to walk towards her home, chuckling quietly to herself all the way.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"Really, Christine! Just because I knew there is a shortcut through the wood and took it, does not mean that I cheated. You never said that I had to stick to the path! I won, so you must gather wood for the fire. Is that not so, Helen? Fair is fair, right?"

The old woman chuckled as she shook her head.

"And, to think that I despaired for never having children of my own, only to find myself with two tempestuous ones this late in life. The fates have a strange sense of humor, but I have never felt as content as I do now. I only hope that I am a worthy teacher for the girl and can guide her into the legacy safely. No! Stupid Helen! Do not hope! You have no choice. You must be worthy of the girl or what is the point to your thus far worthless life? For once in your life, Helen, do more than is required and do what is right for someone other than yourself. Do what is right for Christine, and, Erik, too. That is the only course open to you. That is why you still draw breath on this accursed earth. And, tonight, you take the first step by making your confession to her … to them both."

"Helen?"

Startled by the gentle hand that rested upon her shoulder, Helen looked into the golden-hued eyes, which stared at her with concern.

"What is it? Are you feeling ill?"

She shook her head and met his eyes.

"I am well. I became lost in my thoughts. Now, I do not care which of you fetches firewood, but whichever of you stays here with me, I need you to help me in the kitchen. So, children, I leave you to your bickering. I shall be waiting for one of you in the kitchen."

She turned and walked into the kitchen, pausing only for a moment to conjure a small flicker of flame, which danced about the room as it ignited the wicks of the room's several oil lamps. Her fingers quickly moved to the laces of her cloak and tugged, releasing the bow. With a small shrug of her shoulders, the cloak lifted from her and danced across the room to land on the hook next to the back door.

"Very nicely done, Helen, but what if Christine walked in here and saw what you just did and not me? I understand that you told her you are capable of magic, but actually seeing it happen is quite another thing. Do you not think?" He chuckled. "Well, luckily for you it is only me. Shall we see what we have here that would make a suitable meal?"

Her eyes narrowed at the sound of his chuckling voice, but softened at the realization of the truth his words held. She placed her hands to the crook of her back, stretched and gave a long, tired sigh.

"As always, my boy, you are correct. I need to use care so I will not frighten the girl away. I am not used to the necessity of restraining myself here, but I thank you for the reminder …. Is she outside?"

Now, it was the young man's turn to sigh deeply.

"Yes, she said that she would rather collect firewood than work in the kitchen. She said that her culinary skills are sadly lacking."

Helen patted Erik's forearm.

"Do not worry, Erik, she will return soon. Now, let us busy ourselves and prepare a proper meal that will show Christine how welcome she is in our home!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

The young woman stepped lightly through the forest floor, deftly avoiding the clutching brambles of the bushes. She held a light wicker basket over her arm, which she rapidly filled with the plentiful deadfall. All the while, she kept an eye on the warm glow of light, which she knew was Helen's cottage.

"The last thing I need is to get lost in the forest. It is much too cold to wander around lost, not to mention that Erik would tease me unmercifully about it and I do not wish to cause Helen any undue worry. That Diamanté! What a bitch! Oh! Look! That is a likely piece and that one too. I only need one or two more and the basket is full. Oh, Lord! The breeze chills me to the bone!"

She leaned to pick up a chunk of rotted tree trunk and froze.

"Christine! Christine! Chris … tine …."

The deep masculine voice called gently to her, the sound floating to her ears on the breeze much like a lover's gentle caress.

"Erik?"

Her voice was little more than a frightened whisper, as she knew it was not the voice of her masked love.

A rich bass chuckle rolled through the air, sending a chill up Christine's spine and the hairs on her arms to stand at attention.

"Who … who is there?"

She winced as her voice gave evidence of her fear.

"Christine …. Christine …. Chris … tine …."

And, then she felt hands clutch at her waist and begin to tickle her. Relief swept through her.

"Erik! You gave me such a …."

As she turned to scold Erik, the grin on her face froze and her eyes widened in terror.

"No!"

Her piercing scream penetrated every nook, crevice and hollow of the forest. Then, her eyes rolled up, leaving only the whites visible and she slumped to the ground as the extremely tall, extremely male form continued to tickle her twitching body. A ruddy face glanced up toward the moon and the pale light glistened off a set of large teeth. The moss green eyes closed and he sang in a voice like a sibilant sigh.

"Christine …. Christine …. Chris … tine …."

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Chapter Fifteen – Leshii

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Leshii Basajaun, Master of Wood, Forest Lord, is a woodland spirit.  Magician and Shapeshifter, all must beware, his fingers hold the tickle of death.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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"What the fuck was that?" Cried Helen.

The words burst from her mouth before the echoes of the scream ended.

"It was Christine! Oh, shit!"

Erik swung around, clamped his hands onto the old woman's shoulder in a vise-like grip and hissed.

"Fuck! I knew that I should not have allowed her to go out into the evening and gather firewood alone. What was I thinking? I am an imbecile!"

He shook his head and returned his attention to Helen.

"Catch up with me when you can! She needs me!"

Erik ran back into the kitchen. His hand stretched out towards the doorknob when he suddenly flew backwards across the room and landed sprawled on his backside. He swung viciously around to face Helen.

"Why the hell did you do that? You heard her scream! She is in trouble! She needs help! Let me go!"

The tall, lean young man leapt to his feet and froze as he heard the sounds of doors locking and windows bolting. He whirled to face the old woman.

"How dare you stop me? Do you not care for her? She is the daughter of your twin! The precious heir for which you have sought for so many years. Madame, you had best tell me why you seem to abandon her or you had better move out of my way. Your enchantments will not hold me here for long. Think carefully. Do you wish to have me as an enemy?"

Helen sighed and shook her head wearily.

"Erik, think with the head on your shoulders and not with the little one between your thighs! You need to be calm. I can find her. You know I can. Let me do what I do best then we can know who or what it is that threatens Christine and I can lead you to her."

He grumbled for a moment and ran a hand through his thick, dark hair.

"Come, Madame, what is in the forest that would be a danger to Christine? Nothing has ever bothered me, or you for that matter, so what would want Christine? So, tell me what lies in wait for a beautiful young woman in this forest." He shook his head and changed his tact. "Very well, use your power and find her! You are right. I know you can." His voice dropped an octave and took on a pleading tone. "Helen, please! If something were to happen to Christine, I do not think I would survive it."

Moving with a swiftness that still startled the old woman, Erik roughly took hold of her shoulders. He shook the seemingly stunned old woman once sharply in an attempt to focus her attention upon him. When she did not answer him and continued to stare blankly at him, he barked at her sharply.

"Damn it! Woman! We do not have time for this! Answer me! Where is she?"

She turned her glazed eyes to him. She blinked slowly. After a moment, her eyes cleared and focused upon Erik. Looking into the young man's eyes, she frowned, nodded her consent, took a deep breath, let it out slowly and allowed her eyes to flutter closed once more. A blast of power began to radiate from the old woman's limp form and a sudden invisible fire engulfed Erik's hands. He quickly released his hold on the old woman, unconsciously shaking his hands as if to extinguish the flames from them. He eyed her impatiently, but cautiously, well aware of the power contained within the woman. After what seemed an eternity to Erik, Helen's eyes snapped open and she groaned. Her hands clutched the sides of her head and she gingerly massaged her temples.

"Shit! Leshii! Damn it! It is Leshii Basajaun! He is a spirit of the woods. He considers himself Lord of the Forest, but I have never encountered him here before now. This is not his customary domain, although, as a keeper and teacher of magic, he does occasionally travel when he feels the call. Christine's power most likely drew him here. I do not believe she is in any danger, but I think it would be best if I speak with him and not you, Erik. Like most of the fae, he revels in half-truths and half-lies. If you do not word your query in precisely the proper manner, well, let me just say that things could go quite poorly for us all. Not to mention, Leshii shall be greatly entertained and highly amused."

"Poorly?" The young man sputtered, fury darkened his normally pale skin. "Poorly? And, things are going so well now? Are they? I think not! Come, Madame! I cannot bear the thoughts racing through my mind, thoughts of what this Leshii intends to do with her."

The distracted woman blinked and looked up at the distraught man.

"Do with her?" She echoed numbly.

"Yes, Helen. What does this 'spirit' intend to do with her? I think that after what happened to you at the gypsies' carnival, you need not ask that question. Christine is a beautiful, young woman and I am not ignorant in the ways of the fae. I am well aware of their lusts and of their predilection for pretty, young human females. I read your books about them …. What am I doing? This pointless conversation must cease. You must lead me to her! Now!"

He threw his arms up in the air then grabbed one of Helen's hands and pulled her with him towards the kitchen door, pausing only long enough to grab both of their cloaks and a lantern.

"Come! We need to find her … not stand around talking about her! Please, Helen! Let us go now!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

The first thing the young woman noticed as awareness crept back into her mind was a sound. It was a familiar sound. A comforting sound, but it took her throbbing head several moments to identify it and place a name to the sound.

"Fire. That crackling and popping sound is a fire burning. Wait! A fire? Where the hell am I? Did I faint? Perhaps, Erik found me and brought me back to the cottage. He must have found the firewood as well … that fire feels lovely."

The young woman sighed and moved to stretch her arms. She frowned as she found her arms refused to move from her sides. Ignoring the pounding, which lay behind her closed eyelids, she opened her eyes. Confusion surged through every fiber of her being as her eyes focused upon the rough earth and stone that made up the ceiling and walls of the room in which she found herself. When she attempted to move her head to take in more of her surroundings and discovered she could not move any part of her body, blind panic began to take hold of her at the realization of her worst fear.

"I cannot move! I am completely helpless. No! No! This cannot be! No man has the right to truss me in this manner. I swore upon my papa's grave that no man would make me feel this helpless ever again. And, I will not! No!"

Anger flared through Christine. The absolute purity of her rage burned deep within her, sparking a strange feeling of power deep within the young woman. Her mind instinctively grabbed hold of the power and she screamed.

"Whoever you are that binds me here, release me now or I warn you, I shall not be responsible for my actions. Do you hear me?"

A soft, deep masculine chuckle filled the chamber and it served only to further infuriate the young woman.

"You find me amusing, do you? Very well! Do not say that I did not give you warning."

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the fire of her rage, her thoughts changing it and directing it. Her mind moved the heat from deep within her soul and allowed it to rise to encase her body in a burning sheath of flame.

"I am beholden to no male unless I wish it. I cast off your bindings and bid you to laugh at me no more!"

Slowly, she arose from a bed of fresh lichen, her entire body consumed in a brilliant white blaze. With narrowed eyes, she searched the otherwise barren cave for a sign of her erstwhile captor. As she intently studied her surroundings, she found that other than the small fire in the corner, the only other thing in the cave to draw her attention was a pale, tan mushroom, which seemed tenuously to cling to life as it grew from a crack between two boulders in the cave wall. It seemed so incongruous with the rest of the lifeless warren that Christine felt the hairs at the nape of her neck prickle and stand on end. And, then she sensed it. The power hidden within the guise of the fungus. She allowed her rage to cool and pushed the fires back into the depths of her soul.




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 16-20



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Chapter Sixteen – Transcendent

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Venus exists outside the realm of mere mortal experience. She is the transcendent goddess, beyond our mundane perceptions.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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She awoke to a sound and this time, she smiled. She recognized it immediately although she had never heard it before that moment. A rich, clear tenor voice rang out, as its owner moved about the room, singing words that chilled her heart with their sorrow as her sleep-fogged mind cleared and she understood the meaning behind the beautiful sound. Christine peered through slit eyes, watching the man she had somehow come to love as he busied himself with laying wood in her fireplace and then starting a fire. Soon, the comforting warmth and crackle of flame radiated about the room and she could not help but stretch and yawn. Forsaking her feigned sleep, Christine pushed herself up and rested her back upon the headboard of the bed in which she found herself clad only in a thin cotton chemise. The sound of her gentle movements did not pierce the man's consciousness, as he seemed lost in the heartrending lyrics of his song. His heavenly voice a husky whisper.

She stared at the bent back of the man. She ran her eyes over him and admired his lean, muscular body. He wore only black trousers and a loose white poet's shirt. An involuntary tear rolled from the corner of her eye as she took in the sadness of his song.

"Erik …."

She spoke softly so not to startle him, but he seemed not to notice her call. He remained crouched before the hearth, staring at the flickering flames of the newly built fire.

"Erik?"

She called a bit louder this time and he seemed to take note of her, his head rising and cocking to one side. His hands lifted to his face and after a moment, he stood, turned and walked to the side of her bed. His eyes burned as they raked over the voluptuous curves of her form barely hidden by her thin shift. He sighed as he attempted to bank the fire, which burned brightly within his loins. Tearing his eyes away from her, he cleared his throat before speaking.

"Good morning, Christine. I trust you slept well after your little adventure last night?"

She frowned slightly and watched as an unreadable expression flitted across the visible side of his face.

"Hmmm … no answer? Well, in that case, I shall leave you now so you can have some privacy in which to dress for the day. I shall inform Madame that you are awake and she will prepare you a meal to break your fast."

He gave her a small bow.

"Mademoiselle."

Her frown increased as he turned and began to walk towards the door of her room.

"Erik? Stop! Where are you going? Please, come here and sit. I am so happy to find myself here. The last thing I remember is falling asleep under a tree after Leshii left. How did you find me? How did I get here?"

The young man froze as her words washed through him and his shoulders sagged. With a voice barely above a whisper and without turning his head toward her, he replied in a low monotone.

"Helen used her power to find you. I simply followed her lead then acted as a substitute for Edgar and carried you here. I failed you last night. I was not there when you needed me. You could have been hurt or lost to us forever."

He nearly jumped out of his skin when Christine's voice sounded from directly behind him and he felt the luscious curves of her body press against his back.

"Erik … do you realize that you are the only person that has ever been able to make me lose my temper? I am trying very hard not to hiss and spit and stomp my foot in frustration right now, but I believe that even if I did, it would do no good. Sometimes, I really do not understand you. Do you remember the first time we met and we called one another stupid? Well, I do and you are acting that way now. You have never failed me, Erik. You disappointed me by not visiting me more often in our dreams and then saddened me when you stopped coming to me. But, now that I think upon it, the dreams stopped soon after my father died, so I might have been the one that shut you out and not the other way around. No matter, even at your most irritating, you never failed me. And, I have been helpless to do anything but love you." She paused and pressed her body closer to his before she continued. "Ever since the first time we met and argued, I have been head-over-heels in love with you."

For a brief moment, Christine thought she felt a tremor race through Erik's body before he froze and his body turned into a mass of unmoving and unfeeling stone. And, it was that slight tremor, which gave her the hope and the courage to continue speaking to him.

"My love? Do not close your heart to me, please! I feel your fear, but do not understand what it is that you fear. Talk to me, Erik! Please!"

She nestled her head against the broad expanse of his back and held her breath, as the words of a fervent prayer swept through her mind and begged whatever deity who would listen that the silent man hear her words.

"Lord, please let him love me as much as I love him. Please!"

She snaked her arms around his waist and tightly clasped her hands together over his abdomen. She closed her eyes and savored the hard abdominal muscles against which her hands pressed.

"Oh, if you wish to leave, you will have to touch me. You will have to acknowledge that I am here. I am not going to let you ignore me. You owe me more than that. If you wish to walk away from me, I do not plan on making it easy for you as I will not release my hold on you without a struggle, Erik."

She inhaled deeply of his enticing male scent and sighed.

"Hell! And, we were doing so well too! Damn it! When I think of the kisses and caresses we shared on the train, I tremble with how much more I want. And, when I think of the things we might have done last night, I feel as if my body is burning in places I never knew could ache. If only that damnable Leshii had not spirited me away who knows what pleasures we might have shared last night."

The man's swift movement suddenly broke her silent reverie. He deftly twisted around without breaking her hold on him and wrapped his arms firmly around her. He shuddered briefly as Christine settled her head upon his chest and then relaxed. He rested his chin atop her mass of chocolate curls and closed his eyes. She smelled of pine needles and rich loamy earth. Another tremble raced through his body as he felt his manhood respond to the scent and touch of the woman he desired to take as his mate.

"Christine?"

The word tumbled from his lips in a raspy croak and hung heavily in the air around them. A single word, yet, it held all of the longing and love the man felt. A single word told all and required only a single word in reply.

"Yes."

From the husky sound of the word she spoke, he understood the word answered his question and did not make another inquiry of him. Both of their bodies relaxed within the circle of their embrace and their arms began to sweep and glide over one another. Their hands grasping, swirling and clutching in an ecstatic exploration of pleasure previously interrupted too soon. He leaned down and captured her mouth with his, only to have her surprise him as she nipped his lower lip. He opened his mouth to express his astonishment, only to have her tongue slide into his mouth as she deepened their kiss.

Emboldened by her kisses, Erik ran his hand up the side of her thin shift and over the flat expanse of her stomach. Gathering his courage, he paused only for a moment before allowing his hand to glide up and gently cup her breast. Thunder sounded softly and Erik noticed static electricity gathering in the air around them. His thoughts quickly diverted from the tingling sensation as one of Christine's questing hands firmly squeezed one side of his rear, which caused his aroused state to harden further and him to moan loudly as she pulled him closer to her chemise-clad body. His groan covered the second, louder peal of thunder, which resounded nearby in the heavens. His one hand encircled the firm mound of her flesh and he felt a sudden shiver of delight as her taut nipple speared his palm. His other hand ran through her wild tresses, soon finding it entangled within the mass of her soft, dark brown curls.

"My God! Erik! Oh! Yes!"

Her voice called out in passionate song and her hand ran between their bodies, down to find the hard length of his arousal. Her small hand slid up and down the tense muscle, which lay hidden beneath its prison of cloth and Erik felt his eyes roll up as his hips began to thrust forward to meet each of her strokes.

"Oh! You are everything to me! I swear! Christine! I must have you!" He growled.

Her quiet laughter sounded sweeter than the most delicate wind chimes Erik had ever heard and a distant part of him realized he was lost. He was lost and wished to remain forever lost, if finding himself meant losing the sweetness of Christine's heavenly touch.

The rhythm of her hand increased and his hand moved away from cupping her breast. His finger and thumb twirled her nipple and gently pulled on the erect flesh. The sounds of their ragged breathing and soft moans grew quicker and louder. The two hurtling toward a heretofore unknown precipice, as mindless as a stampede of lemmings.

Erik left her lips to trail a line of soft kisses along the willowy column of her throat. He suckled briefly at her collarbone and then moved towards the stiff, pebbled flesh of her nipple. He ran his tongue around her globe at the place where her pale flesh met a dusky rose. He swirled and laved at her hungrily and then succumbed to his greed as he drew her taut tip into his mouth and suckled.

A wordless cry escaped Christine's lips and her hand involuntarily clutched Erik's erect manhood tighter, as the mouth tugging upon her nipple drew a cord of fire up from her belly. Christine's legs gave way and Erik caught her up with him as he stumbled and fell onto her bed. The moment their bodies landed upon the bed, a blinding bolt of light exploded through the room followed almost immediately by an equally loud detonation of thunder. And, yet the couple on the bed remained oblivious to the storm, which raged in a completely blue and totally clear sky.

A sound, which imitated almost in miniature the clap of thunder resounded through the bedroom as the door slammed open and smacked into the wall.

Christine screeched and Erik quickly pulled the bed sheets over their heaving bodies.

"What the fuck?" Erik snarled.

Helen calmly walked into the room, ignoring Erik's furious look and Christine's abject embarrassment.

"Exactly …. What the fuck is exactly what cannot go on here and we need to talk about this right now!"

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Chapter Seventeen – Illumination

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Knowledge casts illumination into the darkest corners of the mind,  leaving no hiding place for the despair of ignorance.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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Erik's amber orbs blazed with a fury that Helen had never witnessed before, but she could understand the reason for it. If it were not for the fact that his actions had placed his life in a rather precarious position, Helen would have found the entire situation amusing and she would have left the two young lovers to their own devices. However, the peculiarities of the power of Christine's heritage changed things in a way that could cause devastating consequences to any man she joined in sexual congress. A fact that Helen knew all too well, so she impassively met Erik's volcanic gaze. When the man did not back down, her eyes narrowed as she considered an alternate course. After a moment, she made a decision and spoke.

"I will allow the two of you a few moments to collect yourselves, but I expect the both of you in the parlor in ten minutes. No dilly-dallying and, most importantly, no putting Nebuchadnezzar out to grass¹!"

Christine gasped at Helen's crude comment and Erik gave a wordless growl at the old woman. And, without another word, she strode from the room, slamming the door behind her as an added emphasis to her words.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"Oh! She probably believes I am just another one of your bits of muslin². She seemed so angry and I cannot blame her. I am a stranger, whom she invites into her home and how do I repay her kindness? I play the part of a wanton woman and attempt to seduce her adopted son into my bed! I do not even wish to think about the sight that met her eyes when she walked in here …. My God! What was I thinking? Perhaps, I am nothing but a strumpet …."

Erik watched open-mouthed as Christine stormed about the room. Her blazing anger awed him as it out-matched even his own and was a sight he had never before witnessed in another person. She grabbed her rumpled dress, which she found lying across a small chaise lounge and savagely pulled it on over her head, fuming and muttering all the while. Marching in front of Erik, she turned and presented her back to him.

"Lace me!" She demanded.

When he did not move and simply stood rooted to the same spot, the rigid set of her shoulders drooped and she sighed.

"Please?" She added in a fretting tone, which sounded close to a sulking whine.

With fumbling fingers and his pulse pounding in his ears, the stunned man did as the woman commanded. An audible gulp escaped his mouth and he attempted to cover the sound by clearing his throat.

"Christine, I apologize. I am sorry that I lost control and placed you in this awkward situation with your Aunt, but I must be honest with you. You are the only woman I have ever touched in such a manner. Helen knows this. I have never had feelings like this for anyone other than you and I must tell you that I feel no remorse for the things we did. We did nothing wrong, my sweet. What we did cannot be wrong as long as we did it with love. Can it?"

His words were low, but Christine heard the quiet desperation and sincerity in them. Erik watched with relief as her rigid stance relaxed and her head bowed. She turned slowly to him and her eyes searched his face.

"Do you really mean that?"

She spoke in a desperate whisper that matched the look in her eyes and Erik smiled gently. He lifted his hand and cupped her cheek. The couple jumped at the sharp, but pleasurable tingle that began at the place they touched and continued on to run throughout their bodies. He met her look with steady eyes, a small smile turned up the corners of his mouth.

"Oui. I have never said anything that I meant more."

Christine sighed, closed her eyes and leaned into his caress.

"Oh! My love!"

He leaned in, placed a kiss to her forehead and whispered.

"Je t'aime³, Christine. Je t'aime."

A joyous shudder ran through her body.

"And, I you, Erik. Je t'aime."

Reluctantly, the two drew apart and stared at one another with soft smiles curling their lips. Erik broke the silence first.

"Well, unless we wish to further infuriate Madame and have her pay us another visit, I believe we had best make our way to the parlor. Do not worry yourself, dearest. My love for you is not going to disappear. All will be well. I promise! We have waited far too long for this. We deserve to be happy."

He held out his hand to her and she placed her small one into his without hesitation. Pulling her to his side, he placed her hand in the crook of his arm and with a gentle smile, led her out of the room.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

The old woman paced before the lively, crackling fire.

"Oh, shit! I ache all over! Damn it! I am too old to be chasing through the forest in the middle of the night. It was too cold and too damp last night for these decrepit bones. And, now I suffer for it today. Even so, it still is not enough to take my mind off those two. They are incredibly tactile with each other. Erik surprises me. I never thought he would be able to lower his guard long enough to allow someone to get close to him, much less allow a woman to … or, for him to …well, I never thought it would happen. The two of them had better make their way out here soon. I really do not wish to haul them out of bed, but for Erik's sake, I shall have no choice. Christine is much too dangerous for him in her present state. I shall allow them another minute or two and then …."

The sound of approaching footsteps interrupted her silent rant and she sighed with relief.

"My thanks to you, Goddess!"

A sharp rap on the door caused Helen's eyebrow to rise in surprise, but she held back her chuckle.

"Entré!"

The door swung open and the rumpled pair strode defiantly into the room. Christine swept past Helen and sat in the window seat while Erik took up his customary position leaning on the fireplace mantle. Both faces bore petulant expressions as if they were children expecting a lecture and Helen had to bite her lip to stop from laughing at them.

"You can both stop glaring at me! I have no objections to the two of you being together. My worries have nothing to do with moral or religious doctrines. Christine, you received no training and have no control over your power. In this state, you are a danger to Erik. Did either of you notice the thunder or see the flashes of lightning that happened while the two of you allowed your passions to overwhelm you?"

Seeing the blank looks on both of their faces, Helen smirked as she looked at Christine. After a moment, the smirk faded. Sorrow pulled the deep creases of her face downwards and she blinked once before she continued.

"I thought not. Well, Christine, I was not properly trained to handle the power of the bracelet either. You are aware of what happened to me at the carnival and you know that Diamanté despises me for 'killing' my rapist. What you do not know is that I did have enough knowledge of the power to use it against that man. With the foolishness that can only come from the inexperience and hubris of youth, I gave free reign to my unbridled emotions, which in my case was my overwhelming hatred for the man. I knew my intense feelings would summon a lightning storm. The gypsy died from a direct lightning strike. Lightning I caused with my hate. Lightning I hoped would kill him. The fact that I wanted it to happen is the reason Diamanté cannot forgive me. I used the power of the bracelet to kill. The bracelet's power has many purposes, but murder is not one of them. I intentionally used the bracelet's power to kill a man. A despicable man, but a human being all the same. You might say that he deserved it. I definitely felt he did, but in the course of my life, I learned that such judgments are not mine to make. My slight knowledge gave me the power to allow that man's death, but my lack of training made me unaware of the consequences of my actions. My entire life is a penance to cleanse that man's blood from my soul. And, the worst of it is that I do not know if I can ever find forgiveness."

She turned away from Christine in shame and walked to the window opposite the young woman. She stared out at the bright, early spring day, but did not see the light. The old woman could only see the darkness, which weighed heavily upon her heart. She placed her hand on her chest over the spot where her faulty organ pulsed and wondered just how much longer it would continue to beat. She cleared her throat.

"I tell you this not to gain your pity, but for your understanding. You are entirely unversed in the ways of the power you hold within you. If you lose yourself to passion's embrace and couple with Erik, well, I fear you might kill him. Unlike me, you would be completely blameless, but I do not believe that would assuage your guilt over his death. I cannot stand idly by and allow such a tragedy to occur, not when it seems that the two of you harbor such deep feelings for one another. So, the two of you must wait until Christine learns to control her power. The day Diamanté assures me that you are not a danger to Erik is the day I shall happily stop up my ears and not give one whit as to what the two of you do in the privacy of your own chambers. However, until that day, the two of you need to keep your amorous escapades in check."




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 16-20



Helen's words faded away into a strange vacuum of silence, which enveloped the room. The fire continued to flicker and dance, but the flames seemed to make no sound. The pair had been quietly watching the old woman's back, but found all too soon that they could not resist the physical pull of the other's presence in the room. Slowly their gaze ran from Helen, down along the floor and up the object of their desire's body. With crimson cheeks blazing, they quickly skimmed upwards, quickly skipping over the tempting parts until their eyes locked. Christine's mouth gaped slightly and her lips moved soundlessly.

"I want you more than anything I have ever thought to want. I could not bear it if I hurt you. Do you think what she says is true?"

Erik bit his lower lip, but did not break their stare with the slightest of blinks.

"If I can be certain of anything in this world besides you, I am sure of Helen. She does not tell lies. She sometimes avoids speaking the truth, but if she says the words, I have no doubt of their veracity. She believes everything she has said to us is true."

Christine nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yes, I feel that she speaks the truth, too. So, my love, what do we do now?"

The young man's eyes flashed. His sagging shoulders straightened and a smile spread across his entire face.

"You called me, my love and told me you loved me when we were in your bed chamber. Do you truly mean it, Christine?"

Christine gave a small unladylike snort and a toothy grin stretched her delicate features.

"Speaking only the truth must be a family trait, Erik. I would not have said it if I did not mean it. Now, I repeat. What do we do now?"

The old woman's melodious voice interrupted the two young people's silent conversation.

"Is it not obvious? I must begin Christine's training as soon as possible. For the sooner she can control her power, the sooner I can leave the two of you to your own devices … so to speak."

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¹ "Putting Nebuchadnezzar out to grass" – 19th Century slang for sexual intercourse.

² "Bits of muslin" – 19th Century slang for women of easy virtue.

³ "Je t'aime" – Translation: I love you

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Chapter Eighteen – Lessons

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Lessons of love forever kept  Close to the heart, dear to the breast.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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"No! No! No! You must relax! Clear your mind and feel the tranquility of peace wash over you. You cannot force yourself to feel peaceful! There is a diametric opposition in the concepts of force and peace. Would you not agree with me on this principle? Good! Well, then have you not heard a single word I have said? You are attempting to force a meditative state, which is not possible. Trust me! Now, try again. Close your eyes. Relax. Listen to the sound of your breathing. In and out. In and out. Clear your mind of all thoughts and listen only to the sound of my voice and your breath. In and out. In and out. You feel the slow, steady beating of your heart, which calms you further. You feel yourself relax as you release the tension in your body. Your body seems to float on a cushion of air and you find yourself thinking back and examining the happy times in your life. Only the happy times … you search through your memories and find a time when you felt totally happy. A time so perfect that you felt completely at peace. Can you remember a moment in your life where you felt everything was perfect? Can you, Christine?"

The old woman's eyes lit up with silent anticipation as she watched Christine's limp form. She continued speaking her soft platitudes, encouraging the girl's deepening trance. A hiccough burst Helen's moment of triumph and sent the young woman into a fit of nervous giggles.

"Go! Get a drink of water and return when your hiccoughs are gone."

Helen pressed her fingers tightly across her forehead and rubbed vigorously as she fought against the pain in her head caused by her growing frustration with the girl. As Christine remained in frowning silence, the old woman suppressed a groan.

"Really! You cannot enter a trance with hiccoughs, Christine. Go!"

"Damn it! This is an exercise in pointless frustration for the both of us! I am not a teacher, Diamanté! I cannot even help the girl find her focus and I already feel my temper rising. Fuck! I have no patience for this! What am I doing wrong?"

Her wrist felt suddenly awash in a burst of warmth and the ruby slowly began to glow.

"Both of you try too hard, but for the wrong reasons. The girl concentrates, but her desire for the man distracts her from absorbing the meaning of your words. And, you … you allow the perceived perfection of your mother's lessons with your twin to intimidate you and frustrate you with what you perceive as your apparent failure. Believe me, crone, the lessons your mother taught your sister never came easily to either one of them and in the end, your sister rejected all she had been taught. She left and turned her back on her legacy, did she not? So, was your mother the perfect teacher if her student forsook her lessons and renounced her claim to the bracelet? Well?"

The voice, which filled her head, spoke in an unusually mild tone. Helen did not answer as she felt the question to be rhetorical. Her suspicions were confirmed when Diamanté continued.

"We both know that your sister was weak. She never had the strength of will to draw confidently on my power, no matter how we tried to help her. It simply was not in her nature. Christine, on the other hand, is strong-willed. You must find the proper tools to teach her. She has an enormous fount of self-discipline bubbling deep within her. You must draw it to the surface and use it. Christine loved her father deeply, but his death left her feeling betrayed. She locked away her ability to love when he died, seeing it as a weakness and that is the reason her shared dreams with Erik ceased. She turned away from love and placed all of her passion into one outlet. Do you know what it is? I do and I believe that if he thought about it, Erik could tell you as well. It is her music. Her music is the key to her learning control and while you have a beautiful voice, you obviously do not have the gift of teaching. However, you do know someone who is a gifted teacher and makes music so sweet as to make the angels weep. Do you not, Helen?"

The old woman froze with the realization of just whom Diamanté meant.

"But, knowing how the two of them feel about one another and then placing them in such close proximity on a daily basis could lead even the most saintly of men into temptation. I do not know if I can allow you to place him into a situation, which could result in his death. While he is an exceptional human being, he is still just a man. And, in some ways, he is more a man than most men I have met, but still, he loves her and …."

"She must learn to make her song take flight and then guide it carefully back to earth. He can teach her how to control her voice and with that knowledge, she shall hold the key to her power. Can you deny her that chance? I think not! I believe that we shall obtain the best results if the girl and her mate do not know about this conversation. You shall continue to instruct her in the histories, rituals and incantations. I shall arrange the circumstance to arise that will inspire the offer of vocal lessons. Yes, I have always known that he holds a place of importance in the legacy. I just never understood his use until now. With his gift of music, the girl shall take command of her power and you will find your rest, old one."

The old woman started from her trance as she sensed the concern in the hand placed on her arm.

"Madame? Are you well? I am sorry. I do not mean to aggravate you. I will try harder, I promise!"

Helen blinked to clear the fog from her eyes and allowed a small smile to turn up the corners of her mouth.

"Oh, my dear girl, do not worry. I am well, just a slight headache. You do not aggravate me. No. No. I am frustrated with my own lack of ability. I am a poor teacher and I promise that I shall try harder, but, for now, I believe you need some fresh air. You should find Erik and ask him to accompany you on a walk. It is a lovely day and a few hours outdoors will do the both of you a world of good. I shall brew a pot of chamomile tea with some mint and birch bark then have a quiet cup by the fireside. That should relieve my aching head before it is time for us to prepare supper. Now, off with you!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"It is such a shame that I could not find Erik. Helen was right, it is a lovely day and I would so love to have gone for a walk in the forest, but without him I do not think that is wise."

The young woman sighed wistfully and then, as she spied a bench next to a quaint stone well, she skipped to it and sat daintily upon it. She bent down and plucked a wild daisy.

"To think that some people consider this flower a weed! Well, Mademoiselle Daisy, you and I have much in common. We are both considered weeds, but in truth, we are diamonds in the rough!"

She laughed gaily as she tucked the flower behind her ear then bent to pluck another blossom.

"I do believe I shall inquire of the daisy to tell me whether Erik's love for me is true. Will you do me this great favor, Mademoiselle? I can think of no greater cause to which you could sacrifice your petals …."

With a gentle smile, she carefully plucked a petal from the daisy and began to sing.

"He loves me …. He loves me not …. Please tell me what I need to know …. My heart alone cannot divine  the truth of my longing mind.

Her eyes glowed with hope and happiness as she cast the petal into the air where a sudden gust of wind caught it. She watched as it swirled and whirled on the current of air, soon drifting from her sight. She sighed and tugged another petal from the daisy. Then casting it upon the wind, she continued her song.

He loves me …. He loves me not …. Please tell me what I need to know …. Forever shall I wonder  Oh! Petals tell me true.

She freed another petal from the flower. Christine stood, closed her eyes and began to sway in time to the rhythm of her song.

He loves me …. He loves me not …. Please tell me what I need to know …. I only know that when he's near  my thoughts become clear.

She cast another petal onto the wind and her swaying became gliding steps of dance, her voice rising as her song became more certain.

He loves me …. He loves me not …. Please tell me what I need to know …. The restless fluttering of my heart  cannot find peace when we're apart.

With her head thrown back and her arms outstretched, Christine whirled about in a joyous imitation of the petals fluttering about her on the wind. Her song rising to a crescendo.

He loves me …. He loves me not …. Please tell me what I need to know ….

Can you speak for me?

Oh, petals tell him true ….

Just say to him, I love you.¹"

A tinkling peal of laughter escaped her lips and a blush swept from her cheeks, down her neck and ended at the soft rise of her heaving breasts. She sought to slow her breath, then glancing at the ravaged blossom in her hand; she waltzed to the well and cast it into its depths.

"I do not suppose I really need to ask a daisy how Erik feels. I know he truly loves me." She murmured.

Suddenly, a vibrant male voice spoke softly near her ear.

"And, my dear, you are quite correct. I do love you."

Startled by the unexpected company, she almost lost her footing and had to fling out her hands to catch herself on the rim of the well. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes with embarrassment over her clumsiness, she steadied herself for a moment to gather her wits about her. She swiftly spun about, giggling madly. Her delighted smile turned into a frown as she saw no one behind her.

"Where are you?" She called uncertainly. "Erik, come out! I do not find this amusing in the slightest!"

She stomped her foot on the ground and glared as drops of mud spattered her worn shoe and the hem of her gown.

"Oh, shit! Look what you made me do! Damn it! Erik? Erik!"

Her indignant words cut off and became a shriek as a pair of strong arms swept her up into their embrace. She twisted in his grip and her tiny fists beat upon the warm, hard surface of masculine chest covered only by a thin muslin shirt against which she suddenly found herself tightly pressed.

"Monsieur Erik de Seul! You must put me down at once or … or … or, oh! Erik, put me down now! I swear! Honestly, whenever you are near me, I cannot string together a coherent thought and being in your arms … well, I am very near surrender, my love. Do not say that I did not give you fair warning." Her eyes grew grave. "Really, Erik, you need to put me down right now, please?"

"Very well." He sighed. "You know that I can deny you nothing."

They both sighed as he gently stood her back down upon her own feet. He stood for a moment, his body pressed against hers just long enough to make sure that she had her balance before he backed away from her and she once again took up her seat on the bench next to the well.

"My apologies, ma chéri. I could not help myself. I went out for a walk in the woods and suddenly, I heard the voice of an angel singing. The next thing I knew I was here and discovered that what I once thought an angel was in truth, you. I know that you said you intended to go to the Opera Populaire and audition for a position with the chorus, but … my God! What a waste of a precious instrument if you were to do that. Right now, your voice is so sweet and pure you could audition for secondary leads and with a little training, you could become the lead soprano."

She looked into his earnest eyes and all doubt fled her mind.

"A little training?" She stammered.

A broad smile graced his lips and he bowed.

"Mademoiselle Wolner! I would like to offer myself to you …." He paused, allowing his eyes to run up and down suggestively over her body, before he grinned and met her eyes once more. "I would like to offer myself to you as your maestro. Please, allow me the pleasure of molding your voice into the perfect instrument I know it is capable of becoming. Please, Christine?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

¹ "A Maiden's Lament" – Excerpt from "A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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Chapter Nineteen – Coincidence

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We believe that life is a series of interesting events we name coincidence. There are no coincidences. Life follows the path of our heart's own desire.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Helen sighed and pulled her bare feet onto the settee. She carefully tucked the afghan about her body and then turned to take up her cup of tea. With brooding eyes, she stared into the flames as she thought of the wasted years of her life.

"All of this loneliness because of one mistake … just because I gave in and allowed my temper free reign during the worst moment of my life. Sometimes, I wonder why me, but that is a pointless thought to pursue. And, then there are the 'what if I had …' thoughts. Oh, Khalid! When I think of the life that could have been, I feel so much despair, but this changeling's body could never tempt you. If you could only see past this horrible façade and see the true Helen that lies beneath it …. Aw, hell! The only person that ever could was Erik and he accomplished that only with the help of the bracelet. Ha! The bracelet helped the boy to see the true me and it was the bracelet which caused me to look this way in the first place." She paused to blow upon the steaming surface of her cup of tea then tentatively took a small sip. She grimaced slightly at the bitter taste. "Ugh! As with all medicines, I guess I must accept the bitter in order to receive the sweet relief from the pain." She took another sip. "Diamanté! Please take pity upon me and allow me a brief freedom from this walking prison. There is no one to see. Please? I wish to continue our conversation and hope that you would explain something to me."

The familiar heat emanated from the bracelet around her wrist and the brightness of the firelight seemed to dim before the radiance of the ruby's glowing surface.

"Very well, Helen. I shall take a chance and hope no one notices your transformation. I shall free you just long enough for the two of us to partake in the completion of our earlier conversation, but then you must return to your fleshy confinement. You must remember that I did not devise your punishment. I am simply the executioner of the writ or, perhaps, more accurately, the jailer whom holds the key to your cell. Arise from your prison of flesh! Stand and walk free, Mademoiselle Hélène Manon de Blanc!"

Quiet thunder rumbled far off in the distance and suddenly, a tall, lithe form leapt from the settee. The young woman twirled as her bell-like laughter tinkled throughout the room. After a moment, her hands ran up and down her slender, yet curvaceous form. She hugged herself tightly and sank to the floor where she quietly began to contemplate the fire. The flame light danced deep in the reflections of her deep sapphire-hued orbs, her flawless alabaster skin and curly, raven-black hair meshing seamlessly into the absolute whole of a stunning woman. She sighed and drew her long, coltish legs up to rest her chin on them.

"Thank you, Diamanté. It has been such a long time since you last allowed me to walk free. Thank you so very much! It is an amazing thing to be without pain. Thank you!" She murmured.

"I am not the beast you think me. It truly pains me that I must continue to punish you. Although, I am of two minds over how I feel about the thing you did because of the thing done to you. Yet, I am not the one that decided your fate and I must answer to powers higher than I am. You forget something about me or, perhaps, you never knew this about me. Once, I was a human woman and I am where I am now … here in this stone … as part of a punishment. While, I did not commit murder, I did something for which I could not find absolution. I disobeyed and betrayed my king. I rejected his attentions. I not only refused my king, but I had the audacity to love another. From the moment of my birth, my fate was to become consort to the king. My every whim instantly satisfied, my ego unbelievably coddled. I lived a life of privilege and thought that the king would indulge my every wish. At a young age, the king's wizard determined that my soul contained powerful magicks and he must train me so that I could control them and become a great power to the king. Unfortunately, despite the great difference in our age, my teacher and I fell in love. I first shared my body with the wizard and it was to him that I gave my heart. The king, when he learned of our betrayal, killed my lover by having him drawn and quartered before my very eyes. He then offered me a second chance. If I would willingly come to his bed and deny my love, he would forgive me. I could not. No, that is not true. I would not! In his rage, the king summoned his sorceress. She bound me in chains, which prevented me from summoning my powers. I was alone and I was powerless. The king could not bear the thought of destroying me completely as the power I possess would die with me, so he commanded that the sorceress destroy my body and imbue my power within a talisman. And, that is how I came to reside within the ruby contained in your bracelet. Obviously, this is not my story in its entirety, but it is enough for you to know that I understand what it is to be imprisoned. We are not so different, you and I."




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 16-20



Crystalline tears dripped and rolled from sapphire eyes to land glistening on Helen's flawless cheeks.

"At least you had love. Even if it was only for just a short time. I have never had love. Well, the love I found is destined to remain forever unrequited. At least you had your love. I shall never have mine. At least not during this lifetime. But, never mind this …. I wish to know how you intend to have Erik offer vocal training to Christine. I have often told him that he should take students, but he always demurred. What makes you think he will be willing to teach Christine?"

"You obviously never heard the girl sing. If you did, you would not bother with such questions. Anyway, I sent a thought to the boy that a walk through the woods would be a delightful thing for him to do today. He will be wandering about the woods, thinking about the girl and after I give her mind a small push, she shall feel inspired to sing. As soon as he hears her sing, no further interference shall be necessary. The boy will have no choice, but to offer to teach her to sing. The only way I can think to explain is this … the boy would consider it a sacrilege not to teach her. He will not be able to resist the chance to mold her heavenly voice nor would he want to allow the opportunity to spend more time with her to pass by him."

Helen snorted.

"Yes, he is just a man. And, a man in love. So, why are you instigating this opportunity for Erik and Christine? Do you truly believe that voice lessons can teach her what she needs to learn in regards to her powers? I fail to see how singing provides the proper preparation for Christine to wield the bracelet, but I will defer to your obviously better judgment. Now, as our discussion of the love birds is at an end, I need to send a letter to Khalid and I do not wish to wait for it to go through the post. Will you assist me with its delivery? And, normally I would not ask, but if Khalid allows it … I would be truly grateful if you would assist with the … hmmm … personal delivery of his response."

An uncomfortable silence hung heavily in the room and Helen shifted nervously on the floor.

"If you do not wish to assist me, Diamanté, all you need to do is tell me. I will just make do with the standard post."

"No, that is not the reason for my silence. Thoughts of things you spoke about earlier crossed my mind and reminded me of something one of your predecessors read in a book once. 'There are none so blind as those who will not see. The most deluded people are those who choose to ignore what they already know¹.' I believe that you and Khalid's relationship can be defined by those words."

Helen let out a disdainful snort of disbelief, but a sudden, involuntary shiver ran down her spine and it cut short her intended retort. Diamanté chuckled wryly at the woman's uncharacteristic uncertainty before she continued.

"I shall be most pleased to lend you aid in transporting your missive and its response. You only need speak the words, Helen. And now, I fear that I must return you to … well, you know that I cannot relieve you of your punishment forever. It is strange that after all of these years spent together, we never truly spoke to one another until now. Strange that. Perhaps, that is your niece's special power, the gift of clarity or, perhaps, understanding. I shall have to think upon this for a time. It is something unexpectedly new and as old as I am, well, anything new is a good thing. Well, I shall leave you to your thoughts and your tea."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

The young woman sat on the bench and watched with enchanted eyes as Erik reversed his retreat and strode towards her once more. She dropped the bruised and denuded stem of the daisy from her hand and stood to meet him. He rushed the last few steps toward her and placed his hands gently about her waist.

"Well, Christine? Will you allow me to teach you?"

She smiled somewhat shyly.

"Do you really need to ask? Of course, you may teach me! Thank you, Erik! Your offer allows me to fulfill one of my papa's greatest dreams for me. He wished more than anything for me to sing upon the stage. Oh, thank you!"

A delighted laugh escaped her lips as the young man lifted her into the air and giddily spun her about him. After a moment, the sound of his laughter joined with hers as he slowly lowered her to the ground.

"Oh, Christine! Everything that has occurred since we met at the de Mornay chateau seems as wondrous to me as a dream. Yet, I have discovered that my dreams were not dreams, but real. So, now how can I tell the difference between truth and dreams? Pinch me! For I fear to wake from this moment if it is a dream, yet I must know. I must know if you are real for I think I … well, I think that I could not bear to …."

Christine placed a finger over his lips.

"Shh … you need not say anything until you are ready, Erik. But, I think that I feel the same as you do. We are not dreaming. I am much too happy for this to be a dream."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

¹ "There are none so blind as those who will not see. The most deluded people are those who choose to ignore what they already know." The origin of this proverb in English traces back to 1546 (John Heywood,) and resembles the Biblical verse Jeremiah 5:21 (King James Version): "Hear now this, O foolish people, and without understanding; which have eyes, and see not; which have ears, and hear not." In 1738, Jonathan Swift used this proverb in his 'Polite Conversation,' and the first attested use in the United States was in the 1713 'Works of Thomas Chalkley.'

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Chapter Twenty – Control

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The premise of control is but an illusion and obtainable only at great cost. The true secret of control is free, one must only learn to let go to fly.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christine burst through the back door of the cottage and breezed into the kitchen with Erik following close behind her.

"Helen! Helen! We have wonderful news! Where are you? Helen?"

Erik smiled as he softly closed the door and leaned against the door jamb, waiting for the scene before him to unfold. The old woman tottered into the kitchen and huffed.

"By the Goddess! What is all this ruckus about? What on earth are you on about, child? News … what news? You could not possibly have eloped. I did not leave the two of you alone long enough for that, so come, Christine. What is your news?"

The young woman blushed deeply while at the same time, she grinned impishly.

"No! We did nothing of the sort, Madame! But, Erik has offered to act as my vocal instructor. Is that not wonderful news?"

The rictus of wrinkles that surrounded the hole that was Helen's mouth, turned up in a smile.

"That is truly astonishing news." The old woman turned her eyes to the man in the doorway. "So, Erik, what brought about this sudden change of heart? I thought that after turning away the lucrative offer from that young man in Melbourne, nothing would ever entice you into teaching."

Erik cocked an eyebrow.

"Young man? Melbourne? Oh! You mean, Frederick Matthias Alexander¹. Well, I did not turn him down. He and I did not see eye-to-eye on some of the specifics I developed and decided to part ways. I helped him as far as he allowed by telling him why he experienced so many problems with his voice. He did not require a vocal teacher; he needed to reeducate himself in the area of his entire body's posture. He needed to learn primary control. I brought to his attention ways he held his head and neck when he attempted to project his voice. I showed him with mirrors and told him he needed to rid himself of these compressive movements. However, I believe that having someone make the corrections for the subject is most likely more effective. By electing to reeducate himself, Monsieur Alexander most likely requires substantially more time than if he received assistance. You see, the only time he can properly observe his body is while using at least two mirrors and he cannot do this while he is on the stage performing. Without the mirrors, he most likely will fall back on his dysfunctional habits and once again lose his voice …."

He cleared his throat and blushed as he noticed Christine's befuddled expression and Helen's smirk.

"I apologize, but I believe that this method of training can help more than actors and vocalists. It could help persons suffering from neck and back pain, perhaps, even asthma. It really is quite revolutionary. I implemented the techniques and noticed an improvement in my bowing of the violin."

He gazed deeply into Christine's eyes and murmured.

"While observing you, I have not seen much that needs correcting, but you do have a habit of tensing your jaw and biting your lip. Once you unlearn these habits, I believe the improvement of your voice's resonance will astound you. That is … if you will allow me."

Christine cocked her head and bit her lip. Erik laughed and she pouted.

"Of course, I will allow you. What must I do?"

He grinned widely.

"That is the beauty of this technique. You do not need to do anything. I observe you and then make corrections using verbal and manual guidance."

She frowned.

"What do you mean by manual guidance?"

Helen snorted and it was Erik's turn to look uncomfortable.

"Well, you must lie down … fully clothed, of course, on a board and I explain the corrections as I perform them. You must execute the corrections in your mind only. I quite understand how strange this sounds, but it does work …."

Christine cut off his words.

"Erik, I trust you. You do not need to convince me."

The young man sighed in relief as the young woman slid into his welcome embrace. He nuzzled her neck with his lips and she giggled. Helen rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Somehow I do not believe that manual guidance is an intelligent activity for either one of you to indulge. I believe manual activity actually becomes hazardous activity where the two of you are concerned, but I will withhold my final opinion on the matter until after the first couple of lessons. Now, Erik, cease your nibbling on that girl's neck! She is not for supper and I need her to have her wits about her so she may help me prepare our meal for tonight. Otherwise, we all go hungry. I know! If you have so much excess energy, perhaps you could work it off by splitting some logs for the fire. The bin in the parlor is empty and I noticed that the wood pile is dwindling fast. Now, get! You know where the axe is, boy. Go make yourself useful and keep out of trouble!"

The women laughed merrily as they began to busy themselves about the kitchen. Helen paused only long enough to shoo Erik outside and close the kitchen door behind him with a soft thump.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"He really is quite an amazing person … for a man, you know." The old woman commented quietly.

"Oui, from the moment we first met, I have known he is special." Christine mumbled in a husky murmur.

Helen laughed. The glorious sound caused Christine's head to whip around and stare in surprise.

"What?"

Merry ice blue eyes met confused warm brown ones. The young woman tilted her head slightly and her eyes looked to a place Helen could not see. After a few moments of silence, Christine's gaze returned to Helen and she smiled shyly.

"I do believe that both of you are very special, Tante² Helen."

Shocked, the old woman turned away to hide the flood of emotion that threatened to spill from her brimming eyes. She quickly blinked back the tears and cleared her throat.

"Well, it seems that it must be something about this cottage as it seems to me that all of the people living in it are special."

She paused and turned to watch Christine as she awkwardly chopped carrots.

"Enough of this foolish blathering, child! Oh, shit! Take care and mind your fingers! That knife is wicked sharp! It would be a shame for you to lose one or two while you daydream. And, by the by, if you tell Erik what I said, I will forever deny it."

Christine giggled and smirked at the old woman.

"I solemnly promise that I will never ever tell. We women need to stick together. After all, men do not need to know everything about us. It will remain our secret."

Her grin faded as she regarded the knife with a disgusted frown.

"Tante? Can you teach me how to use this thing? I worked as an upstairs maid. Mostly, I gathered the dirty bed linens and soiled clothes then brought them to the laundress. Sometimes, I would help make beds. When I was not busy with those duties, I had to help the scullery maid with the dirty pots and pans."

She set down the knife on the counter and displayed her rough, red hands to Helen.

"These hands know only how to strip beds, carry dirty laundry and scrub pots. I never used a knife before today. Well, not for chopping anyway … oh, you know what I mean."

The young woman's voice trailed off and Helen noticed Christine's face had taken on an embarrassed flush. Without a word, Helen stopped stirring the stew and placed down the spoon. She waddled over to Christine and took the knife into her hand.

"I would be honored to show you, my dear. Watch me. It is quite simple. There is no secret to using a knife other than this … let the knife do the work. This knife is quite sharp. Most people cut themselves with knives because the blade is dull and they have to force the knife to cut. With a properly sharpened knife, the blade does the work. All you have to do is guide the food to the blade, the knife remains in the same spot. You never hold the food, but push it. See? You raise and lower the knife as you push the food across the cutting board. There! All done! Would you like to watch me do that again?"

Christine nodded her mouth slightly agape with surprise.

"You make that look so simple!"

Helen snorted.

"Years of experience, child. Years and years of experience. You know, I believe I have some attar of rose that would help your hands. I will find it and give it to you tonight. Tomorrow's prima donna should have hands as lovely as her voice."

The sound of the two women's laughter drifted out of the house to where Erik stood swinging the axe and splitting a log. Their merriment surrounded him and caressed his bare torso. The sound of Christine's joy made him ache with desire for her. The axe slowly fell to his side where it hung unnoticed in his hand. He closed his eyes, his head lifted to the rapidly darkening sky.

"Oh my God! I am in deep trouble." He whispered.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Helen left the two young lovers in the parlor after extracting promises from them to behave like a proper gentleman and gentlewoman. She shook her head and said a silent prayer as she heard Christine let out a small shriek and Erik's resultant chuckle as she moved down the hall to her bedroom.

"I am just going to have to trust them alone sometime. After all, he will be alone when he is teaching her. I am just going to have to have faith in the two of them."

She walked into her small room and closed the door behind her. After turning up the wicks on her oil lamps and stoking the banked coals of her fire back to life, she went to her writing desk and sat down. Sliding open the drawer, she removed her most treasured possession, a fountain pen, and a sheet of stationery, placed the paper on her desk then slid the drawer shut. She placed pen to paper and began to write.

9 April 1899

My Dearest Khalid,

I hope this letter finds you well and your business ventures prosper. I am certain that this letter took you by surprise, especially considering the means by which you received it, but I have important news that could not wait for the vagaries of the standard post.

We found her!

Erik and I found my niece. Her name is Christine. Our discovery of her came quite by accident. All these years, we searched and she was right under our noses in France. After Christelle died, her father became a music teacher and a noble family, the de Mornays, hired him. Her father died a victim to one of the many epidemics, which do so plague our winters and died when Christine was nine years of age. The Comte allowed the girl to stay and she served as one of his household staff ever since. Can you believe it? A de Blanc woman acting as an assistant to a scullery maid? Well, she is here now and no matter what else may happen, I know where she is and do not need to worry over her safety any longer.

It seems that the girl inherited her parents' gift of music. Erik says that her voice is a rare and beautiful instrument. Now, I hope you are sitting down, if you are not, I suggest you take a seat. Erik offered to teach Christine and she accepted. I know! I know! I apologize if the shock caught you unprepared, but I did warn you. Well, anyway, Erik offered and Christine accepted. I believe he intends on beginning their lessons on the morrow.

Now, on to the true purpose of my letter. I need to ask a favor of you. If you do not currently find yourself involved in the midst of negotiating a business deal, would you pay us an extended visit? I need your steadying hand here, my friend.

Now, for the biggest surprise … Diamanté consented to bring you here, with your permission, of course. And, I have finally bowed to the ravages of time and decided that if you have not changed your mind, I wish to purchase Edgar from you, so I ask you bring him with you as well.

As in the past, please write your reply on the reverse of this letter and speak the words, "Go home," when your reply is ready. I look forward to hearing from you and, even more, to seeing you.

Fondest regards,

Helen

She placed the pen back into the drawer, folded the paper in half and then placed it before her in the center of the desk. Drawing a deep breath, she held it for a moment then released it slowly. She rolled her head and shoulders as she gathered her strength. A rosy glow began to emanate from her bracelet. She held her hands out over the letter, closed her eyes and spoke. Her mellifluous voice ringing with a sudden, heretofore hidden, power.

"Go to Khalid! Now!"

The room seemed to grow dark although the lamps still burned as brightly as before. The light they cast simply did not reach beyond their chimneys. The hair on the back of Helen's neck began to tingle and then all of the hair on her head stood straight on end. A small flash of ruby red light enveloped the letter, which instantly disappeared. The old woman's hair relaxed immediately and fell to her shoulders. The lamp lights brightened and once again cast their golden glow into every corner of the small room. Helen sighed and lowered her hands to rest them atop of her desk. She bowed her head and found she was unsure whether it was in supplication or defeat.

"Well, I guess it is out of my hands now. I hope he decides to visit and at the same time not. It is such blissful torture to have him so close. Shit! So close and yet not …."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

¹ Frederick Matthias Alexander (1869-1955.) During the 1890's in Melbourne, Australia, an actor who began his career as a Shakespearean orator, developed chronic laryngitis while performing. Determined to restore the full use of his voice, he carefully watched himself while speaking, and observed that undue muscular tension accounted for his vocal problem. He sought a way to eliminate that restriction. Over a period of nine years, he discovered and articulated a principle that profoundly influences health and well-being: with the reduction of neck tension, the head no longer compresses the spine and the spine is free to lengthen. Alexander named this principle, the primary control. Alexander restored his own natural capacity for ease by changing the way he thought while initiating an action. From his work on himself and others, he evolved a hands-on teaching method that encourages all the body's processes to work more efficiently – as an integrated, dynamic whole. F. M. Alexander set down the theory of his technique in a book entitled, "The Use of Self." [Source of Information about The Alexander Technique garnered and compiled from numerous articles.]




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 21-25



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Chapter Twenty-One – Yearning

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Yearning is the desire you feel for the one you love. 

Longing is the lust you feel when you lie to yourself and call it love.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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She placed the pen back into the drawer, folded the paper in half and then placed it before her in the center of the desk. Drawing a deep breath, she held it for a moment then released it slowly. She rolled her head and shoulders as she gathered her strength. A rosy glow began to emanate from her bracelet. She held her hands out over the letter, closed her eyes and spoke. Her mellifluous voice ringing with a sudden, heretofore hidden, power.

"Go to Khalid! Now!"

The room seemed to grow dark although the lamps still burned as brightly as before. The light they cast simply did not reach beyond their chimneys. The hair on the back of Helen's neck began to tingle and then all of the hair on her head stood straight on end. A small flash of ruby red light enveloped the letter, which instantly disappeared. The old woman's hair relaxed immediately and fell to her shoulders. The lamp lights brightened and once again cast their golden glow into every corner of the small room. Helen sighed and lowered her hands to rest them atop of her desk. She bowed her head and found she was unsure whether it was in supplication or defeat.

"Well, I guess it is out of my hands now. I hope he decides to visit and at the same time not. It is such blissful torture to have him so close. Shit! So close and yet not …."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"This feels so delightfully wicked, Erik! Are you quite certain that this is a method of teaching voice? Or, are you trying to seduce me, Monsieur?"

While the words slipped haughtily from her lips, the mischievous light in her glistening eyes belied her tone of mock horror. She arched an eyebrow at him as she awaited his response. The man, who hovered above her body with his hands controlling her movements, froze. For a brief instant, he lost his cocky certainty as he raised his serious eyes to Christine. However, after reading the playful air and her seductive mien, his demeanor relaxed and he swiftly regained his confident manner. Matching the impish light shining in the young woman's eyes, a sly smile stole across his lips and a husky chuckle rolled from his mouth.

"Do I really need to seduce you, Mademoiselle? I do not seem to remember you requiring any coaxing from me and that you came quite willingly to this position beneath me. Perhaps, we are both the wicked ones here."

As a whisper-soft moan escaped unknowingly from him, he pressed the length of his growing hardness, which provided the evidence of his wickedness, against the side of her thigh and she released a sound somewhere between a hiss and a moan. Spurred on by the musical noises emanating from his beloved, his hips rocked forward. His body instinctively acting. Her body reacting. Her back arched, thrusting upwards against the firm body of the man, as her body immediately sought the part of him she needed buried tightly inside her. Their actions unknowing proof of Newton's Third Law of Motion that forces always come in pairs. He moved nearer to her, she responded. Their passion swept all cognizant thought from both of their minds leaving only a firestorm of desire. Two pairs of feverish lips crashed desperately against each other, ravenous to sate the longing, which overwhelmed both of them. Hands glided over soft, yielding mounds and other hands slid along a thick, rigid shaft. As the writhing movements of the pair became ever more frenetic, so too did the sound of the impending storm outside.

Christine tore her mouth away from Erik's and stared at him with wild eyes.

"Prenez-moi, Erik! Maintenant¹!" She gasped raggedly.

A blinding bolt of lightning struck a tree just outside, the severed branch cracking and splintering noisily as it fell to the ground. The brief silence, which followed ended with booming thunder that shook the cottage. 

"Oh, Christine!"

He cleared his throat and raised his eyes beseechingly to the heavens. A shudder ran through his body and he allowed his head to roll from side-to-side along his back before he lifted his head, returning his gaze to the panting brunette. His eyes filled with desperate longing, as they pierced into her soul before he turned away and his shoulders sagged in defeat. He sighed and rolled off of her.

"Really, Christine! Tu êtes ma petite verrou de foudre²! I desire nothing more than to lay with you, swath your lips and breasts with kisses, then cover your body with mine and take you, but we both know what the result of that action would be. I want you, Christine. And, I wish to live long enough to make you mine in every way, but only if that is what you truly desire. I love you and if you were willing, I would ask you to be my wife, to bear my children, to spend the rest of your life with me. I desire all of these things, but I cannot ask anything of you until we tame the storm you carry within your soul. So, please do not tempt me. I am in love with you and cannot withstand the lure of your charms when you offer them to me so freely. I feared that our attraction would interfere with our lessons and that is the reason why I put you off for the last week. I cannot do this alone. We must resist temptation together. We must stand firm in our resolve to wait until you are ready. So, I ask you, Christine, can you allow me to teach you without tormenting me? Can you do this, ma chéri?"

The smirk on the young woman's face faded and she pursed her lips. She sat up and ran her hands over her skirts to smooth them then turned her longing eyes to the man.

"Oh, Erik! The last thing I intended to do was to tease you. In fact, I am most serious about my feelings for you. Please believe me when I tell you that I want you as much as you want me. And, I would love to accept your proposal and make a life with you. But, we both know that I am not ready to do that … not yet. I do not wish for anything to happen to you because of this damnable power that seems to control my life. I … I am sorry. It is just that when you touch me, I do not wish to control myself. My entire life has been that of me controlling my wants and desires. Ever since the death of my papa, I held back from those around me, remaining both untouched and unloved. I listened and watched as everyone lived around me. I have hidden behind a mask, pretending that I did not want the same things other women wanted, but I do want them. Actually, I want you, Erik! My body aches with its need of you. When you place your hands on me, I burn deep inside. You are not the only one that feels tormented, mon amour. I may be untouched, but I am not wholly innocent. I am aware of the things that men and women do. One cannot live on an estate the size of the de Mornay's without witnessing several assignations. I realize that I must learn control or I could hurt someone, perhaps, even kill someone. If one good thing can come of Helen's mistake, it is to show me what comes from not being properly prepared. I want you, but I promise to behave. Please, continue with the lesson. I promise that I shall conduct myself in a manner appropriate for a young, unmarried lady. Truly! I promise!"

The panting couple collapsed against one another as they slowly gained control and their ragged breaths calmed. Erik pressed a single kiss to Christine's forehead then looked deeply into her eyes.

"I need you always to remember that I love you. Can you do that for me, ma chéri? Please?" He murmured huskily.

Returning his stare with wide, unblinking eyes, Christine nodded as she lay back down. She smiled gently and allowed her love for Erik to speak to him through her shining eyes.

The young man sighed once more, bowed his head and turned away. Removing his mask, he wiped the sweat from his face then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and ran it across the inside of his mask. He quickly returned the mask to his face and the handkerchief to his pocket. Then, he took a deep breath and released it; he opened his eyes, turned to her and began again.

"Very well. Listen to my words, Christine. I wish for you to listen and think about the action I describe. Do not move! Perform the action within your mind. I shall move your body for you. Listen to the sound of my voice and feel yourself becoming relaxed. Your muscles are loose. There is no tension in your body. Every part of you is limp and free. Breathing is the only action I require of you. Breathe deep. Allow your lungs to take in just as much air as you need. Listen to my voice and relax."

He allowed his eyes to roam over the body lying on the table and watched the slow, steady rise and fall of her chest. Her open eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling with a slightly glazed look causing the rich brown orbs to appear dull. The line of her jaw appeared soft and unclenched even with her mouth closed. A small smile lifted the corners of his mouth and he nodded almost imperceptibly in approval.

"It seems our desire for one another spurs her ability. She just passed the first hurdle. Perhaps, this will be easier than I hoped, but we shall see."

"Excellent, Christine! You are ready to begin. Now, close your eyes and perform these actions in your mind. Remember. Do not move your body. I shall do that for you. Perform the movements as I instruct, but do not move your body. Today, we begin to retrain your mind. Once your mind learns the proper way to move, your body will follow. Perfect. We begin now. Christine, you are standing on the stage of the opera house. You are the lead soprano. You stand before the audience and your body is completely relaxed."

His hands roamed over her body, positioning her in the proper stance then he continued.

"You hear the last notes of the prelude fade away and then the orchestra begins to play. The opening notes of the introduction sweep through you and you draw in and release several preparatory breaths. You are ready to begin your opening aria. Now, picture in your mind …."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Helen peered out her bedroom window and watched as the last vestiges of the threatening thunderhead diminished, soon becoming nothing more than a light, ghostly fog. The wind, which had begun to batter the limbs of the trees surrounding her home, banished the last traces of mist as it died and the trees became still. The low rumbling of thunder ceased and the sound of silence hung heavily for a moment before the everyday sounds of the forest resumed.

She chuckled.

"Merde, ça c'est trop fort³! They can actually control themselves! This is amazing! A man that thinks with his big head and not the little one. Perhaps, Erik is more than just a man after all …."

Her chuckle caught and died in her throat as her eyes locked onto the dim reflection of her face wavering on the surface of the window pane. Her eyes clenched shut in denial of the image before her, but opened reluctantly to stare at the woman looking back at her from within the glass. She sighed and turned away. Crossing the floor, she dropped to her knees before her large armoire in the corner of her room. She drew open the bottom drawer, her hands dipped inside to rummage beneath the carefully folded shawls and throws lying within the drawer. When her hands contacted the cold, smoothness she sought, she grasped it tightly and withdrew the object. She held a large, ornately decorated, silver-backed hand mirror. Her fingers lovingly ran over the swirls and whorls of the designs adorning its back, smiling slightly as they gently traced over the initials "H. de B." Steeling herself against the pain that she knew her action would cause, she flipped over the mirror, held it up and looked at the reflection in the glass.

"Mon Dieu! I sometimes forget and feel like the girl I once was, but then it seems that fate always steps in and reminds me of the horror, which is my face."

She tilted her head, first to one side and then to the other as she carefully considered her reflection.

"I cannot decide which camp is correct. Those who believe my face appears melted or those who think it looks like a bowl of folded bread dough. Perhaps, they are both correct. Hmmm …. Melted bread dough …. Yes, that is just the thing to tempt a man into my bed. What a fool I am! One would think that after all of these years I would have become used to the fact that my cursed appearance dictated my lonely fate. I would think that my advanced years would act as a sedative to my overactive libido, but it only seems to grow stronger."

The soft chiming of a clock interrupted her painful musing. She quickly returned the mirror to the drawer and slammed it shut. The old woman struggled to her feet and allowed her hands to smooth out the rumpled lines of her skirt.

"Oh, fuck! It is almost time for Khalid to arrive and here I sit crying. Pull yourself together, old girl. Forget that you want him! Your best friend is about to arrive! Forget that your smile looks like a lipless, toothless maw that no man would ever want to kiss and your face a lumpy mass of flesh no one would ever want to touch. Just remember that for some strange reason, Khalid is your friend and he enjoys your company. Now, wipe away those tears and go greet the only normal person you can name as your friend."

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

The man tugged nervously at the black astrakhan cap on his head and then picked a non-existent piece of lint from his morning suit coat. He turned sideways in the mirror and scowled at his reflection.

"When did I become so … so round?"

A soft snort and stamp of a hoof insinuated itself into his depressed physical inspection. He turned and demanded indignantly.

"Well?"

A whinny and shake of a tail acted as an answer. The man frowned until his body received a not so gentle shove in the shoulder from behind. He turned to watch his friend's reaction. With a toss of mane and another stomp of hoof, the man's frown slowly melted away into a bemused smirk.

"So, you think it is not too bad?"

The bray and rapid head shake seemed to satisfy the man.

"Very well. You have never been wrong, so I will trust your judgment about this. It is just that … oh, well, I have never worn a suit before. She is bound to realize that I am up to something. Hmmm …. Perhaps that would not be such a bad thing after all."

He turned to glance at the grandfather clock just as it began to strike the hour.

"Oh! Allah preserves us! It is time! Come, Edgar! We do not wish to be late, do we?"

A snicker and head shake seemed to answer the man's inquiry.

The man gently wrapped his fingers around the halter's cheek strap and brought himself up to his full height. He placed his hands carefully over the mule's eyes and then closed his own.

"To Helen." He spoke quietly.

The man and the mule became transparent; their images wavered for a moment and then blinked into nothingness.

The clock finished announcing the hour and the empty room was silent, but for the ticking of the pendulum.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

¹ "Prenez-moi, Erik! Maintenant!"  – Translation: "Take me, Erik! Now!"

² "Tu êtes ma petite verrou de foudre!"  – Translation: "You are my little bolt of lightning!"

³ "Merde, ça c'est trop fort!"  – Translation: "Shit, well I'll be damned!"

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Disclaimer: I am not a qualified instructor trained in the Alexander Technique and have only an extremely basic knowledge of its teaching principles and practices. Please do not mistake my fictionalized representation of the Alexander Technique as authentic or factual. I make no claim of ownership of the Alexander Technique or of its principles.

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◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

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Chapter Twenty-Two – Inertia

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The rapid beating of the heart cannot overcome 

the inertia of unrequited love.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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"Brava, ma chéri! Brava! Tu êtes une merveille! Non! Tu êtes mon ange parfait¹!"

Forcing his eyes away from the lovely blush, which blazed across her cheeks, tumbled down the column of her elegant throat and swept across the rapidly heaving expanse of her chest, he smiled broadly at Christine.

"You know that I would not say it if it were not true. I never lie. I am pleased with the progress we made today. Now, close your mouth, ma chéri. Allowing your mouth to hang open in such a manner is bound to attract …."

She opened her mouth to cut off Erik's suggestive remark, when suddenly Helen's normally melodious voice resounded throughout the entire cottage with an ear-splitting screech. Christine's blush drained from her face and Erik's head whipped about to stare in the direction of his bedroom door. The two began to speak at the same time.

"What the fuck?" He shouted.

"Mon Dieu! Do you think someone is in the house?" She gasped.

Erik called over his shoulder as he began to rush from the room.

"It certainly sounds that way, but only one way to know for sure. You stay here!"

Christine leapt gracefully from the table, placed her hands on her hips, stomped her foot on the floor in frustration and fumed.

"Like hell! I am coming with you!"

He skidded to a halt and turned on her, his face grave.

"I will return for you in just a moment, but first I need to know if Helen needs help. I cannot help Helen if I have to worry for your safety. Please, Christine?"

The young woman let out an involuntary snort of disgust and crossed her arms over her chest.

"I am not some helpless maiden, Monsieur. Nor, do I intend for you to leave me alone where I am in greater danger than if I were with you. I leave you no choice in this matter, unless you lock me in this room and board up the windows, I am coming with you!"

Erik's eyes flickered to the window as a movement outside caught his attention. His visible eyebrow arched and then he rolled his eyes.

"Very well, Mademoiselle Wolner. You may come with me."

The young man sighed and wilted under the young woman's withering gaze.

"Very well! You may come with me, but you must calm yourself, Christine! Your emotions are out of control and, if you glance out the window, you will see the results of your tempestuousness. Really, ma chéri!"

Once more Christine found her reply cut off by a shriek and then by the loud braying of a frightened animal. Christine began to rush to Erik's side, but froze as Helen's voice boomed throughout the cottage.

"Khalid! You fucking arse! What on earth were you thinking? Get him out of my house! Now!"

Erik's body stiffened and then relaxed. His head dropped into his hand and he began to shake his head. His shoulders began to hitch uncontrollably. Her face taught with concern, Christine raced to his side and placed a hand gently on his arm.

"What is it? What is wrong?"

Lifting his head from his hand, Erik met Christine's concerned gaze, his eyes twinkling with his amusement.

"Well, it seems that Khalid is here and he brought Edgar with him. From the warmth of Helen's greeting, if I were to hazard a guess, it seems to me that there are two asses in the parlor right now. Come, let us go and I shall introduce you to them. Edgar, at least, deserves a proper greeting. I am certain that Helen's screams have frightened the poor beast half to death. Shall we, ma chéri?"




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 21-25



He chuckled at the young woman's confusion, which was apparent from the furrowed line of her brow. He held out his hand and without hesitation, she placed hers within his, then as one, they walked from the room.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Khalid swore that if the air in the parlor turned any bluer, it would begin to choke him as surely as the exhaust emitted from those new-fangled horseless carriages would. He resisted the urge to chuckle and held up his free hand to ward off his friend's blows.

"Very well! We are leaving! See?"

He pulled gently on Edgar's halter and began to lead him from the room. He paused only a moment, before turning and walking to the front door. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at the invectives Helen threw at his retreating back.

"Really, mon ami! I am shocked to hear such filth coming from a lady's lips! I never expected to hear such language even from you! Tisk! Tisk! For shame upon you!"

He grinned wickedly and Edgar pulled away slightly from him. The beast shook its head at him and then surprised Khalid by nipping lightly at his shoulder. The huge brown eyes stared solemnly into Khalid's for a moment and then the animal let loose a blast of warm air from his nostrils, which Khalid interpreted as a sign of his disgust with the man. Khalid's smile slipped from his face and he sighed as the two walked out the front door. He closed it quietly behind him, before leading Edgar to the lean-to next to the cottage. The former Chancellor to Nasser al-Din Shah Qajar bowed his head and leaned it against the velvety smooth cheek of the mule. His eyes tightly clenched, his handsome mouth twisted.

"Oh, Helen …." He whispered huskily.

Edgar pressed his large head comfortingly against Khalid and nickered softly into the man's ear for a few moments.

"You want to know why I bait her."

An emphatic nod of the large head made him laugh.

"Well, mon ami, since it is you, I will tell you the truth but you must promise me that you will not tell a soul. Do I have your word?"

The resultant nod almost knocked the man off his feet and Khalid released his hold on the halter.

"Hey! Easy, mon ami! Easy! Sometimes you do not know your own strength! Very well. The truth is this … I have absolutely no idea. What?"

In the blink of an eye, Khalid found himself lying prone in a rather large mud puddle. Lifting himself up on his elbows, he glared at Edgar.

"Why did you do that?" He bellowed. "I told you the truth! I have absolutely no idea why I love to torment her so. I guess there is just something so fascinating about her when I rile her. I find myself looking for ways to provoke her, just so I can see her react." His voice dropped to a husky whisper. "I find her so very arousing when she is angry, but you can never tell her. After all, you promised."

The beast leaned its head forward, carefully grasped Khalid by his wrist and helped the man to his feet. Edgar nuzzled against Khalid's shoulder for a moment and then turned to walk into the lean-to. The man looked down at his suit, which was now covered in mud and then after the mule.

"Well, I suppose I can take that as a promise." He grumbled.

"I am going to hold you to your word, Edgar!" Khalid huffed.

"Merde! So much for cutting a rakish figure for the lady. Some fop I turn out to be. I seem to be more of a flop!" He sullenly griped. "Edgar, hold still. It seems that I will need a change of clothes sooner than I expected, so I might as well take your pack off now and bring it inside with me. I will see to your supper after I have a bath and dress. Never fear, mon ami! I should not be too long."

A soft snort sounded and Khalid shook his head.

"What are you complaining about? You are not the one covered in mud! And, this was a brand new suit, too! Merde!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"Xavier? Xavier!" A hesitant voice rasped. "Where are you?"

"Here. I am here, Jacob. Come closer."

Xavier's words, which rolled through the air with the consistency of sludge oil floating atop water, left Jacob feeling in desperate need of a bath. As if, he could scrub away Xavier's presence from his life with a bar of soap.

"Bloody unlikely, but he pays well. So, I will do as he wishes … for now."

Jacob cautiously walked toward the sound of Xavier's voice. Narrowing his eyes, he peered into the inky blackness of the shadows before him. The sudden hiss and rattle of a pipe overhead caused him to jump back from the noise and evoked a feral chuckle from Xavier.

"Nervous, Jacob? Why on earth are you nervous? Surely, a strapping, young man, such as you, has nothing to fear from a being such as me. Why, you could rid yourself of me with less difficulty than if you thought to swat a fly. But …."

It seemed to Jacob that the shadows swirled and a tiny figure, which seemed a part of the darkness, stepped into the flickering light of the furnace. 

"… I certainly would not recommend it, not so long as you are in my employ, anyway. Now, on to business. What news do you bring me of the good Madame? Does she still wander hither, thither and yawn? How goes her quest to find the lost heiress?"

While Xavier's voice seemed to dance lightly through the air, Jacob knew the act was as false as the smile he now had plastered on his face. And, Jacob did have news. News that Xavier would not find pleasing to hear.

"And, Xavier does sometimes kill the messenger. I do not wish to tell all that I have learned, but Xavier can sense a lie better than anyone I have ever met. Fuck! Well, I better answer or it will be the furnace for me."

Jacob cleared his throat and raked his tousled locks back through his splayed fingers.

"Yes, well, I do have news of Madame Helen. She and Monsieur de Seul have returned to her cottage and they were not alone. They brought a young woman with them. A rather pretty thing. She has long, curly hair that is the most interesting shade of brown. It is almost like melted chocolate. I have not been able to get close enough to see clearly the color of her eyes, but they seem dark. So, I would hazard a guess that they are brown as well. She is taller than Madame is, but considerably shorter than Monsieur de Seul, so again, I must give you my best approximation of her height as being average. She is very slender, but has … um … well, delightfully womanly curves. I do not know her name, but I believe she is the one for which Madame has been looking."

A seemingly interminable silence filled the air with its leaden weight. Jacob fought the urge to turn and run from Xavier's presence like the gingerbread man, just as fast as he can. His instinct for self-preservation won over his fear and he remained rooted to the spot. The boiler room was stifling and yet, Jacob felt tiny fingers of ice tickle down along the length of his spine as Xavier spoke.

"Well, this is a most unfortunate turn of events, but perhaps all is not lost. She is a young woman, non?"

Jacob nodded.

The shadows swallowed Xavier's small shape and a sinister chuckle echoed throughout the room. Jacob lost the battle with his nerves and cringed at the horrid parody of mirth.

"You may go, Jacob. Continue to keep watch over Madame Helen and her charges. Report to me in one week. I wish to know what occupies their time each day. Go! Do what you do best! And, you may just live long enough to enjoy your ill-gotten gains."

Jacob's nerves surrendered and he half-ran, half-stumbled from the boiler room, his head filled with the high-pitched, maniacal laughter of Xavier Balard.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

¹ Tu êtes une merveille! Non! Tu êtes mon ange parfait! – Translation: You are a marvel! No! You are my perfect angel!

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◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

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Chapter Twenty-Three – Sin

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Is it a sin to make love when the lover's heart is true? 

Or, is evil judged by virtue lost and a man's malevolent grin?

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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Jacob Ruthven hungrily gasped in the coolness of the night air as he carefully closed the heavy metal door behind him. His fingers worked unthinkingly over the workings of the lock, which secured the door. After giving the lock a final tug to ascertain he had secured it properly, the man pulled up the lapels of his coat, nestled his head within their comforting shelter and walked quickly away from the evil that currently resided in the boiler room.

"Mon Dieu! Everything inside me tells me to run from that man as fast and as far away as I can. But, each time I am near Madame's cottage, I feel something drawing me and holding me there. Perhaps, it is best if I continue my vigil. If I do not do that man's bidding, I know the next one he hires will not give a fig for anything that man plans to do to them. Xavier surely has something dreadful planned. Maybe I can keep them safe or at the very least, warn them. Merde! I am as good as dead just for having these thoughts. What the fuck is wrong with me? I have never before cared about the fate of those upon whom I spy. Why these people? Putain! With Xavier being the way he is, I am bound to get myself killed acting like this. I am an imbecile, a complete and utter fool. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

The distraught man unleashed his anger on a tin can lying on the ground, pulling his foot back, kicking it hard and sending it clattering into the wall of the alley. He winced at the sound it made and glanced quickly around to see if the noise attracted any attention. Seeing no one, he sighed and ran his hand through his unruly locks.

"Of all the idiotic times to grow a conscience, Jacob! Why now, damnez-le?"

And, a little voice inside his head spoke.

"You have chosen now to grow a conscience because when you are near that woman, you can feel and that is something you have never done in this life. You feel something, Jacob …."

He wanted to clap his hands over his ears, so he would not have to listen to that voice. Not wishing to dwell any deeper into his newly awakened feelings, as he feared he would not like the answers he discovered, he broke into a trot and disappeared into the shadows of the back alleys of Paris. He had a job to do, whether he liked it or not.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

The carriage rocked and lurched as it tilted dangerously into a pothole. Too late its sole occupant sought to brace himself, as his mind had wandered far from the confines of the vehicle and he had been lost in those unfamiliar thoughts. His head thudded heavily against the hardwood frame of the door, causing the man to curse soundly. Placing his hand over the bruised spot and wincing as he examined the growing lump with his fingers, he looked out the window and to his surprise, found it was late afternoon; he had almost arrived at his destination. He slid open the partition in the roof of the carriage and hailed the driver to stop. Jacob grabbed his beaten and weathered leather valise from the floor of the conveyance and hopped out as soon as the coachman opened the door. He nodded to the man as he tossed a small bag of coins to him. Jacob turned and casually entered the Bois de Vincennes. He chose a path at random and strolled casually along it, pausing here and there as if to admire the scenery. His feet followed no discernable course other than to veer his steps ever towards the northeast section of the park, which led him into the most heavily forested part of the Bois. When the trail he followed began to veer to the south, he nonchalantly glanced around, making certain that no watchful eyes were upon him. As soon as he felt sure of his anonymity, he left the path and silently slipped into the cold embrace of the shadowy forest. He followed a circuitous route as he made his way towards the cottage hidden deep in the wood. Jacob found himself often stopping and listening carefully to the quiet sounds of the forest around him. After a time, he realized that his traitorous mind listened for something, but what it was, he did not know. The deeper he forged into the forest, the more he paused to listen. When at last he despaired of hearing anything but the soft sounds of the trees and beasts, he shuddered, as the strains of a gentle melody seemed to reach out to him and enfold him within its strangely comforting embrace. The music evoked a hazy memory to slip before his mind's eye, gone in a flash, leaving only a vague impression of a pair of adoring hazel-hued eyes.

"How could I forget? I always think I hear music when I come here. It is so soft, almost as if someone was playing it within a closed room with me standing just outside, but I am being foolish. It must be the wind blowing through the trees for there are no such things as ghosts. It must be some trick created by Monsieur de Seul to keep inquisitive people such as me away from their cottage. I do not know anyone with hazel eyes that ever looked upon me with such emotion. Perhaps, the rumors about Madame Helen are true and she is a witch. Maybe, this forest is bewitched."

He caught himself before he chuckled aloud and shook his head in disgust.

"I am getting sloppy. Imagine laughing out loud here of all places. Mon Dieu! This place may not be haunted, but it certainly is strange. There! At last! There it is. Now, let us see how Madame de Blanc and her charges fare this fine spring evening."

Banishing his uneasiness with a shrug and a smirk, he continued on his way to the cottage. With the lilting notes running unaware through his mind, Jacob felt emboldened and he continued to creep closer to the cottage. Without realizing what he was doing, he dropped his valise near the trunk of a tree and continued past the point at which he normally stopped. A light shone in one of the windows and it attracted him, much like a moth to a candle flame. As he came closer, he noticed a shadowy figure crossing back and forth in front of the window. The logical part of his mind understood that someone was in the room and that he should stay away from the window. But, he felt a presence within that called to him and it awoke a hitherto dormant part of his soul. Something or someone in that room beckoned to him, summoned him to come and look through the window. The man slunk lower to the ground and moved toward the window with the grace of a predatory feline. He crouched below the window, gathering his courage to peek inside the room and then slowly began to stand. His back, stiff from his hunched sojourn across the yard, protested his attempt to straighten it and Jacob suddenly felt as if the world around him shifted. He resisted the urge to groan, as the silvery panes of glass seemed to tilt and swirl before his eyes. Feeling a desperate need to hold onto something as he rode out the wave of nausea, he reached out his hand and grasped hold of the windowsill to steady him. A powerful jolt of electricity entered his hand and shot up his arm the moment he touched it. A surge of unexpected excitement followed the initial shock and, the little voice that lived deep within him seemed to cry out in joyous recognition of the force rolling through his body. His eyes closed, his head rolled back and his cock began to harden.

"Mon Dieu! What the fuck is that?"

He pulled his hand away from the window. His hand pulsed as if he had burned it. Jacob wanted to inspect his hand, but settled on simply shaking the tremors from it. He then turned his attention to his erect manhood, which throbbed painfully within the tight confines of his trousers. As he attempted to adjust the position of his arousal, he noticed the shadowy figure in the room loom larger in the window. Unable to rearrange his cock without risking discovery, Jacob forgo comfort and swore silently as he dropped to the ground. He pressed his back close to the wall. Feeling as if he could barely breathe, he lifted his head and watched, as the shadow became a shape, a person. A bare, wrinkled arm stretched out to the window and pressed its palm to the glass. Hanging about its wrist, Jacob's eyes caught sight of a brilliant sparkle of scarlet light, which soon held him entranced. A raging fire blazed through his groin, stunning him with the speed it caused his manhood to lengthen and harden even more than it had been only a moment before. Crouching below the window became painful, but he could not move … not even if he wished to do so. His eyes locked onto the scarlet blaze. And then, he heard a voice. A woman's voice calling an unfamiliar and at the same time, familiar, name.

"Cadmus? Is that you? Are you here? Cadmus?"

The little voice deep inside stirred instantly to life and answered the woman's call.

"Hush, love. Yes, it is I. Your Cadmus is here."

"Cadmus? Cadmus? Where are you? Come to me, my love. I need to touch you. I need to hold you. I wish to love you and give you the rest of my soul. I have been so very lonely. I have waited much too long, but now, you are here. I swore I would find you and he mocked me, but I knew. I trusted the Fates that this day would come. And now, here it is. Oh, Cadmus! Do you remember our first time? I thought you too large to fit and you laughed at my naiveté. And then, when you entered me and I cried, you shed tears along with me. Do you remember how we found our pleasure together? I do. I remember it all and I eagerly wait the time when we can be with one another always. I want to take you into my mouth, love you and drink deeply of your salty spendings. I want you to bury your hardness deep inside me and fill me with your seed. I want to join with you and plunge into the abyss of ecstasy. Oh, my love! I need you to tell me that we shall be together soon and then, I can bear the waiting. Please tell me, Cadmus!"

"Oh, my dearest love! Sabratha?"

The name slipped his lips as a hoarse, but tender whisper and the astonished man could not suppress the groan that escaped his mouth as the hard, burning length of his manhood erupted. His body finding its release with his mouth's utterance of that name.

Her name.

"What on God's green earth is happening to me? And, who is Sabratha?"

The hand slowly withdrew from the glass and the crimson glow gradually moved out of Jacob's sight. He heard the woman's voice break, as if sobbing.

"Cadmus?"

One last whispery echo called out the man's name. Then, the light was no more and the soft sounds of the evening resumed. Jacob crawled away from the window and into the forest, where he stood. He felt confused, ashamed, disgusted and embarrassed by his body's sudden explosive release. Wishing to clean away the rapidly cooling evidence of his unexplained passion, the man began to back track to his blind where his pack lay propped against the tree trunk. His hand moved to brush back his hair from his face and he froze. His fingers felt wet. He explored his face, surprised to find his face damp with tears, his tears.

"Merde! What the fuck is happening to me?"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Helen stood, her eyes vacant, staring blindly out the window into the swiftly deepening shadows of the evening with her hand pressed against the cold windowpane. After a moment, her head tilted slightly to one side and she let out a sigh. She began to back away from the window, still holding her hand out in front of her. Her feet continued to move her away from the window, stopping only as the back of her legs bumped against her bed, which toppled her from her feet and she sat down hard on the bed.

Helen blinked once.





The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 21-25



"What? Where? Why is my hand so cold? Diamanté? What just happened?"

Diamanté did not reply and Helen found her silence more disturbing than any of the spirit's caustic comments could ever be. Helen's hand flew to her wrist and groped at it.

"Still there …."

She sighed, relieved.

"Merci, Dieu! I do not know what I would do if I lost … wait! Diamanté? Where are you? Diamanté!"

Helen held her breath, the sound of her racing heart thundering in her ears.

"No! This cannot be! Please! Why will you not answer me? Diamanté?"

Helen felt a shudder wrack her body, but knew that her emotions had not caused it.

"Diamanté?"

The softly spoken word, coaxed and soothingly cajoled, as she allowed her voice to work its magic.

"Yes, Helen?"

Both women sighed in unison.

"What is wrong? Something happened and I cannot remember what. What I do remember is that I was pacing here in my room. I was trying to walk off my foul temper before I retired for the night. Khalid made me so furious today. And, then I found myself losing my balance and landing here on the bed. Something … no, someone …."

"Yes … someone … it was he. I felt him near me. I called out to him and I became lost in my memories …."

Helen's eyes grew wet with tears as the spirit's grief overwhelmed her. Her sorrow evident in the uncertainty Helen heard for the first time in Diamanté's voice.

"You called out to whom?"

Helen prompted after Diamanté failed to continue.

"I called out to him. I thought, no, I heard him call my name, too. Can it be true? I swore an oath that I would find him again and now, at long last, he comes for me! He was lost to me so long ago that even I cannot remember how long it has been. Years? A trifle! Decades? A pittance! Centuries? No! Millennia? Oui, it was no more than six or less than four, I believe. But, the presence I felt and the voice I heard, I could live an eternity and still know that it was he. I have no doubt for my heart will never forget the sound of his voice. Oh, sweet love! My Cadmus!"

"Cadmus? Who is he?"

"Were you not listening when I told the girl how I came to be a part of the bracelet you wear?" Diamanté scoffed. "Cadmus was my teacher, my mentor, my world. He was the man I loved."

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◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

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Chapter Twenty-Four – Clarity

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To distinguish a single voice from amidst the roar of the crowd 

is a moment of clarity unique in a life otherwise filled with useless noise.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The young woman sat cross-legged, her skirt rumpled, on the blackened stump of a tree long dead, surrounded by a deep blanket of red, orange, gold and brown leaves. She sat with her eyes closed, head bowed slightly forward and her hands gently cupping her knees. A sudden gust of wind lifted her mass of curls and sent them fluttering about her head, before they settled in disarray about her face.

"So much has happened over the last eight months. Little did I know the night I decided to leave the chateau that decision would change my life in ways I never imagined it would. I found family. I found music and, most importantly, I have found love."

Another gust of wind whirled around her and brought her thoughts back to her reason for sitting here in the forest. She sighed and with eyes still closed, she stilled her errant thoughts and wrapped herself in a blanket of calm, allowing it to penetrate her and become one with her.

"It is time."

She raised her head, opened her unseeing eyes and lifted her hand. As she raised her hand, every leaf that lay on the ground around her lifted into the air. Without lowering her hand, she curled all of her fingers into a fist, but her index finger, which remained pointing straight up to the heavens. Then she began to swivel her wrist. The leaves swirled around her faster and faster, matching the increasing speed of her rotating wrist. And, then she stopped and the leaves stopped as well. The leaves hung motionless in the air with bits of twigs and dust suspended along with them. Suddenly, the young woman thrust her arm above her head and clenched her fingers into a tight fist. The leaves flew upwards and then seemed to explode. One corner of Christine's mouth lifted in a satisfied smirk as she watched all of the bits of leaves drift lazily to the ground. Her head tilted to one side and her chin lifted, as she seemed to listen to an inner voice. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Well that certainly proved my suspicions. I should feel triumphant, but I do not. I now hold the key to the magic, but so many things could go wrong." She straightened her head and blinked. She repressed a smirk. "Yes, Jacob. I know you are there. I have known all along." She paused. "So, what do you intend to do now?"

Not expecting an answer, as she knew the man could not hear her thoughts, she lowered her hand to her lap and closed her eyes. She continued her one-sided conversation.

"Ah, yes. My actions today place you in quite a bind. Have they not?"

She cast her senses out into the woods that surrounded her and found him. She felt no threat from him. In fact, she felt an odd sense of protectiveness emanating from him. She shook her head almost imperceptibly and she felt waves of sadness and affection, tinged with the smallest amount of fear, sweep through her at the same time.

"Oh yes, Jacob. So, you saw what I am able to do. Will you report what I have done? Or, will you keep it to yourself as you have about so many other things you have witnessed here. I wonder when you will decide what to do about your dilemma. All too soon, I suppose, as today's demonstration shall force you into making a decision. What I allowed you to witness today was too out of the ordinary. Too unusual. If you do not tell, you endanger your life if your employer discovers your treachery, but the goodness in your heart holds you back. Time runs out for you, Jacob. Cadmus awakens and soon he shall remember everything. Your employer believes he knows the forces he unleashes and expects to use Cadmus as bait. He unwittingly sets free more than he realizes. I only hope it is enough …."

Opening her eyes, she rose, brushed off her skirt and after allowing her eyes to sweep sadly across Jacob's hiding place, she returned to the cottage.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Christine lay on her bed. Her mind awhirl with excitement. After the time she spent in the forest that afternoon, she knew she was ready. And, she felt the beginnings of a plan taking shape in her mind. She wrapped her arms about her body, hugging herself as a shiver of pleasure coursed through her. She giggled quietly.

"I cannot believe it, but I know I am correct. I simply cannot believe that I am the first one to think of this. Now, the question is, what do I do? I have a secret, but I am uncertain whether it is a good secret or not. I know something that none of the women who came before me ever puzzled out. And yet, I cannot help but wonder. Who am I to think that I can know this thing as a certainty that hundreds, perhaps, a thousand or more women never understood? But, I do. I do. I know this as surely as I draw breath into my lungs. I know it as surely as the sun rises in the east and as surely as I am mortal, I know it. My secret can set my family free, but I am hesitant to tell them. I do not want to let them go. I am selfish. I lost my family once and just found them again. And, now I must set them free. I am Persephone and it is autumn. Hades comes for me. I can feel it. There is only one person in whom I may confide and it is time. I must before I lose the moment. I must speak with Erik. He and Helen have known one another for a long time. His perspective on how he thinks Helen will react can help me decide on what I should do next. So, hmmm … where exactly is Erik right now?"

With no conscious effort, she sent out small tendrils of thought, searching for Erik. She felt Helen in her room. Khalid and Edgar were in the new barn. At the outer corners of her awareness, she felt Jacob. He was perched in a tree, clutching his cloak tightly about him to keep out the cold. He sat there and watched. He watched and reported. He reported and prayed that the man paying him to watch, would continue paying him to observe them and not pay him to act. Christine shook her head. It was a futile hope that Jacob held. Whoever knew to keep watch over Helen, must know something of the power and it was only a matter of time before Jacob's employer would make his move against Helen. Her lips twisted into a wry smile.

"Whoever it is that employs Jacob is sorely mistaken if he believes it is a power he can steal. And, if he thinks that he can force Helen into using her power for him, he is an absolute fool. I am uncertain whether I am fortunate or not that he is of the opinion that I am no threat to him. I should feel insulted, but misjudging me could be the one crucial miscalculation he makes. It could tip the scales against him."

She bit her lip and shuddered.

'I hesitate to think of what Erik would do to him, if he attempted to kidnap me or, worse yet, harm me. But, unless he catches me completely unaware, I feel he has little chance of accomplishing that task. Hmmm …. So, just where is my beloved?"

Christine once again sent out what she thought of as her invisible fingers, feeling for Erik's presence and smiled when she sensed he was in his room. She wanted to wrap the man within the touch of those fingers, but knew that if she did, he would feel it. Erik was the only person that could sense her spirit touch and she feared he would resent her intrusion into his private place. So with great effort, she restrained her desire.

"Well, all I have to do is stand and walk to his room. Now that I know what I know, I am no longer a danger to him." Her heart sang out its joyous anticipation of their next meeting. "Time to go to the man I love and see what he thinks about my ideas."

She leapt from her bed and strode over to the full-length mirror standing in the corner of her room. Gazing into the mirror, she inspected the flushed face that looked back at her and smiled.

"I look just like all of those girls back at the chateau that I so scornfully dismissed as foolish twits that mooned over a man. I never thought I would look this way or, that I would feel this happy that I do! Oh! Erik, hold on to something, mon amour, here I come and here goes everything!"

She twirled this way and that for a moment, her hands playfully holding onto the sides of her skirt as she twisted and dipped before the mirror. Her eyes shone brightly and her cheeks flushed rosy red. She gleefully curtsied to her reflection, turned and hurried to Erik's room.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Erik paced back and forth along the length of his bed, his mind in an emotional turmoil. He felt an ever-present desire to be with Christine. A desire that seemed to grow stronger with each breath he drew into his lungs. One that he was not certain he would be able to control for very much longer. Then, there was the worry he felt for Helen, she had begun to act strangely right around the time of Khalid's arrival, withdrawing into herself and holding herself aloof from everyone. Her normally sparkling ice blue eyes seemed as flat as death and it frightened him. Helen left the cottage each day just as the sun peeked over the horizon and would not return until dinner was already on the table. She spoke to no one and when spoken to, answered with a yes, no or noncommittal grunt. No amount of teasing, cajoling or angry words could coax her into confiding in Erik. After supper, she locked herself in her room, allowing only Christine to enter for an hour's lesson. When Erik asked Christine if she knew what troubled Helen, the young woman became evasive and quickly changed the subject. Erik also had to admit that Khalid had been acting strangely as well. He seemed constantly to be underfoot, asking if he could help with the household chores or cooking. Khalid seemed nervous, yet, at the same time, excited and it puzzled Erik greatly. And now, Christine had been acting strangely, especially during this last week. However, none of those things was the cause of his current pacing.

"No, even with all of the tension I have sensed in this household over the course of the spring, summer and, now, autumn, there is something else that is wrong. Something of which I am completely unaware. Something about which I have no knowledge other than this sense of dread."

He paused in his pacing, placed his fingers to his temples and massaged the bare flesh of his face. His thoughts were interrupted and his pacing halted by a knock at his door. His eyes darted about the room, searching for his mask. He saw it lying discarded on the mussed bedclothes and walked to retrieve it, as he did a second knock sounded.

"Yes? Who is it?"

He swiped the mask off the bed and settled it atop his ruined features, when the muffled response to his inquiry caused him to freeze.

"Erik, it is I, Christine. May I enter? I need to speak with you. Please?"

He blinked in surprise and then ran his hands through his dark hair to smooth it, then tucked his loose shirttails into his trousers as he moved to the door. Taking several deep breaths to calm himself, he opened the door.

"Christine …."

He began, but she cut off his words with her mouth as she passionately pressed her lips against his. Erik moaned as he felt the curves of her body mold against him and her hands ran up his chest, around the back of his neck and on into his hair. His manhood, already standing at half-mast, sprang to full attention when she ran her tongue along the seam of his lips. Erik bit back a groan and carefully disentangled himself from her embrace. He held her at arm's length and studied her.

"Ma chéri! What are you doing? Although I want you more than I have words to tell you, we cannot do this, please!"

His eyes widened at the mischievous grin she wore and the smoldering fire he saw blazing in her brown orbs. He felt his throat go dry and gulped.

"Christine!" He croaked.

"Yes, mon amour?" She purred.

"We cannot do this! The storm …." He panted.

She smirked and leaned into him once more.

"Oh, Erik, I see things clearly now. I have embraced the storm and we need fear it no more. Later tonight, we must talk, but now is for the two of us. And, I need you to take me. Please, make me yours! We have waited so long and been so patient. I feel that if you do not love me, I shall explode. Take me, Erik, unless you do not want me, of course. Otherwise, shut up and kiss me! Now!"

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◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

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Chapter Twenty-Five – Bliss

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is it better to wallow for a day in bliss, or wander for a lifetime in woe? 

Perhaps, the more apt question, does one really need to ask?

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She sat stiffly wrapped within the rigid embrace of the wooden rocking chair and stared blankly out her bedroom window, her mind lost in silent contemplation of how different her life was from the one she envisioned as a child. As a girl, she believed she led a charmed life and dreamed of the day her handsome prince would come to claim her heart, then carry her away to their happily ever after. Instead, as a young woman, she lost her childish notions of happiness and love one bright afternoon. Her treasured hopes and dreams ripped away from her along with her innocence. It was at her weakest moment that Helen allowed her anger to take control. She shuddered at the memory of her blind rage and the power of the storm it released. In less than a minute, the sunny day turned dark, the sky filled with roiling thunderheads. In less than two minutes, the first raindrops fell, pelting the carnival revelers and causing them to flee. In less than five minutes, the carnival grounds became deserted and the single bolt of lightning raced from the heavens, pierced through the canvas tent and bore through a man's heart. Those five minutes decided the course of Helen's life. Those five minutes tested her character and found her unworthy of the power entrusted to her. With the knowledge afforded by her years spent in penance, Helen looked back and for the first time, felt the true horror of what she caused that day.

"No matter what he did to me, I did not have the right to take his life. I wonder if he had a wife and children. I gave no thought that my actions might affect others. I acted as a child does when it is hurt and struck out blindly without thought. What he did was vile and wrong, but he did not kill me. Others have suffered the same horror I did and survived without seeking vengeance. Others used the goodness of their souls to forgive. Instead, I used my power to exact my revenge. I guess the fates decided my face should reflect the ugliness of my blighted soul. I have no right to bewail my unrequited love. All these years I paid lip service to my crime, but never did my heart accept my culpability. No wonder I have not found forgiveness. I never asked for it. I allowed hatred to fester in my heart and I wallowed in self-pity. But, Khalid …. Oh, Khalid. You are the other half of me. The two of us destined to meet and be together. I have no one to blame for my life alone, but me. And, now I understand the worst thing I did that day is that I condemned you to that same fate. A lifetime alone. I am so sorry for everything. I am such a fool."

At that moment, the last blocks of the wall around Helen's heart became dust and disappeared. The woman wept, but not for herself. She wept for the murdered man and she wept for Khalid. She wept for Khalid and remembered.

For years following that fateful trip to the carnival, Helen kept her heart locked away from the world. She performed the rituals required by her power and used her gift of healing as needed, but she refused to feel anything for the people with whom she had contact. It was not until her travels brought her to Persia that everything changed and her carefully built wall cracked.

"It did not take much, either. It only took looking into your eyes and my defenses began to fall apart. It only took you, Khalid. Just you." She mused sadly.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

One day after dismissing her guide, Helen set off to explore the city of Tehran. The woman donned robes similar to those of the native women, but instead of covering her face with a veil, she shielded her face from view within the folds of a deep hood attached to the shapeless gown. From her previous forays into the city, she knew of the city's three different sectors and decided to avoid the governing sector. An unescorted woman walking down the street would attract unwanted attention and Helen wished to avoid any unnecessary confrontations with the Shah's representatives. She spent the morning wandering through the residential quarter and marveling at the dwellings there. The gold domed roofs, lush gardens and tempting fountains amazed Helen with their beauty. Continuing to walk along the same narrow, crooked street Helen found herself standing in the central square of the business quarter's bazaar.




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 26-30



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Chapter Twenty-Six – Entangled

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life is not a carefully woven tapestry, pristine and perfect, but rough and wild. And, each day we find ourselves ever more entangled within its web.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Christine watched with fascination as a flush spread across his visible cheek and he turned his head away from her to hide his shame. Shaking her head, she reached a hand out for him and turned him back to her. She stood with his chin cupped in the palm of her hand and their eyes met. In her eyes, he saw the deep passion that burned there as well as a gentle, true love and it dwelt there with her complete acceptance of him as a man and with such an unshakable certainty that it swept away the last vestiges of his resistance. Erik quivered and a moan escaped his mouth as he surrendered to her will. His lips crashed down upon hers and the fire, which lay banked just beneath the surface of the man and woman's consciousness, burst into brilliant flame. Their mouths locked, their tongues dipped, swirled and danced in their own private tango of bliss. Soon, their whimpers and sighs grew into heated moans and groans. Their inferno fanned to an even greater intensity as their hands caressed each other and their bodies ground against one another. The conflagration of their passion consumed their bodies and eroded all thought from them as they wordlessly slipped to the floor.

And, in the midst of their passion, a streak of white bounced and then skittered across the floor to lie unnoticed and unwanted beneath an armchair.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Khalid sat disconsolately on a bundle of hay he had pulled into Edgar's stall. The man's posture showed the depths of his dejection. His elbows rested on his thighs, his face cradled within the palms of both hands, his shoulders sagging, his entire body slumped forward.

"What am I to do, Edgar? Each day she seems to withdraw further into herself and away from me. It seems that nothing I do helps her in the slightest. And, the strangest thing is that I have no idea why it bothers me so. She is just my friend … you know. If she wishes to pout, I should just leave her alone. After all, I can think of a great number of things that I can do to occupy my time. After all, I am in Paris. I could view an opera or patronize a bordel! And what do I do? I sit here talking to an ass. Please do not take offense, mon ami. Do not glare at me, Edgar! You know that I only speak the unembellished truth! You are an ass, quite literally. And, for that matter, so am I. Helen may be my friend, but since I am speaking the truth to you, I must admit that I want more from her than her companionship. I only wish that I had the courage to tell her what I feel, but I know that she would never believe me. She believes her face is too hideous for anyone to love. Yet, Erik loves her, the girl loves her and I love her as well. She hides behind a wall of cynicism, which colors her every word until they drip with a venomous sarcasm. I realize that she has every reason to distrust humanity for I have seen the scorn they heap upon her, but after all these years … I just thought that if I kept coming back to her and stayed around long enough, she would see the truth of how I feel. But, it seems that will never be the case. Do you want to know something, Edgar? This is very amusing in a pathetic sort of way, but I will not give up on her. I cannot. I love her and nothing will ever change how I feel."

"And, how exactly is it that you feel, Monsieur?"

Khalid gaped as a tall woman with long, dark hair swept through the partially open door and into the barn. His eyes widened with surprise as he took in her appearance. It seemed from the way her arms wrapped tightly around her body that they were all but holding up the dress she wore. He ran puzzled eyes over her and frowned. Something about the woman sent a shiver of recognition through his confused mind, but he quickly dismissed it as a rush of fear ran through him. It clutched at his heart as he recognized the dress the woman had draped loosely about her.

"Madame, I realize this is a rather indelicate question, but the situation warrants my asking. How exactly did you come to wear the dress you hold precariously about your person and where is the owner of said dress? I swear, if you injured my friend, I shall forget that you are a woman and you shall not leave this place unaided …."

Peels of tinkling bell-like laughter halted his tirade and he ceased mid-sentence as the familiar sound washed over his ears.

"That laugh, I know it! It is she! But, how can this be true? This woman looks nothing like Helen. She is younger, taller, thinner, her eyes bluer, her skin smooth and utterly stunning. She is everything that Helen is not, yet, Helen's laugh issues from between her lips. This cannot be! Is there some enchantment, which clouds my eyes? How can this be?"

"Helen, how …?" His voice a choked and ragged utterance.

He stood there entranced, as the woman paced with all the grace of a caged panther back and forth before him. Khalid silently ran his eyes over the length of her body and wondered what lay hidden within the excess of material. Raising his eyes to her face, he took note of her raven-colored hair, which had streaks of gray and white shot through it. The strands of white gave the appearance of sparkling highlights in the dim candlelit interior of the nighttime barn. Her deep sapphire blue eyes sparkled and flashed and the man could not decide if they gleamed from the light or from a deep merriment.

"And, I do not care what causes it. Her eyes are beautiful. Her lips, her hair … mon Dieu! She is beautiful! It is Helen. If there is magic afoot, I find that I do not care. And yet, how can this be?"

His mind wrapped around this single thought, caught in an endless loop. A low, sultry chuckle finally broke his frantic pondering. She halted several steps in front of him and waited for the stunned man to act. He remained frozen, locked in his shock. She cocked her head and studied him carefully when he made no move toward her. She sighed and holding her hands out to the man, took a cautious step forward.

"Does it matter how? Khalid, it is still me, Helen."

Her throaty voice soft, husky, uncertain. She hesitantly took another step towards the man and lifted her arms higher. Her eyes now glistened with unshed tears, which she fought valiantly to contain behind her rapidly blinking eyelids.

"Mon homme le plus précieux, magnifique¹! Does anything else truly matter right now? Time enough for explanations later."

The man remained silent, staring warily at the woman.

"She offers everything that I have ever wanted. So, why can I not move? She is so beautiful!"

Her hands fell to her sides, dropping silently as their movement unleashed the torrent of tears, which splashed and ran down her smooth cheeks. She turned from him and began to stumble back towards the door of the barn. The moment Helen's eyes broke contact with Khalid, he snapped free of the malaise that had held him tightly within its malevolent grip. He started forward, gasping.

"No! Helen, wait! Please do not go!"

She froze and he rushed to her side, placing a trembling hand upon her equally shaking shoulder, but she did not turn to look at him.

"No, Helen. Please do not cry. You must understand that this … this … uh, er, well, you … I … um … damn it! Of all the … I never expected … I had no idea! I am so sorry! I did not mean to make you cry …." He managed to stammer. "Please turn around, Helen."

She slowly turned, sliding out from under the hold his hand had on her shoulder and stood before him, her face wet with her tears. Her bottom lip quivering and her eyes shining. Khalid gasped at the pain, longing, love and hope, which radiated from the dark, liquid depths of her gaze.

"Allah, preserve me! It is true! Helen!"

And, without either one realizing they had moved, their bodies smashed together in a desperate, but long desired, embrace.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Jacob shifted his position on the branch and shivered as a bitterly cold breeze rippled through the tree. He clutched his woolen cloak tighter about his body and forced his thoughts away from his physical discomfort to focus them upon the rustic cottage. The old woman was inside her bedroom, yet again. She sat stiffly upon the wooden rocking chair, unmoving. He frowned.

"Damn! Oh, please, not another night spent in the chair! I just do not believe that my arse can take another hour in this tree. Aw, fuck!" He shivered slightly as another gust of wind whipped about him. "There is something in the air; something that puts me of a mind to believe that the devil holds a candle to the wind this night. Aye, surely it is that. An ill-wind blows, Jacob. An ill-wind blows through to steal unrepentant souls. Bloody hell! Was the money worth the price of your soul?"  

The man ceased talking quietly to himself, his words giving way to softly muttered curses, but he continued to watch the wrinkled lump of flesh perched stiffly upon the still chair. After a time, he fell back into an uneasy silence, his nerves screaming, sending shocks stinging through his body with every creaking branch or rustling leaf. The night deepened, but seemed to drag on interminably as he waited. He waited in growing anticipation of the unknown. And, then he noticed that the forest had gone hushed, as if it too held its breath as it waited along with him. His eyes ached, his arse numb, but he refused to move, lest he miss it … whatever "it" was. A sudden wind whipped through the forest, seeming to draw with it the very air about him towards the modest cottage in the wood. A loose shutter banged as the wind descended upon Helen's home, but he refused to allow his attention to leave the old woman. He watched in stunned silence as the wave of air swept into the old woman's room and enveloped her, which caused her long grey hair to swirl about her face. Oblivious to the maelstrom surrounding her, Jacob watched her eyes flash open and her hand slammed fiercely down onto the arm of her chair. He gasped and his mouth gaped in shock as a brilliant crimson bolt of light struck the old woman's chest with such force that it knocked her chair backwards and she rolled onto the floor. Unable to move, Jacob watched the still, crumpled body and he felt something deep within him break and split in two. Then, she moved and he could breathe once more. She lifted trembling hands to her head, as if to rub away a pain there. The man swore he could hear the woman moan as she struggled to her hands and knees before rising on wobbling legs to her feet. Jacob blinked and leaned forward as his eyes took in the sight of long raven tresses cascading down the woman's back.

"Oh, bloody hell! The queer cuffin may as well bestow the cramp word upon me, as I am as likely to find success in palaver with Xavier about this as I am to finding myself bleeding emperor of France²!"

All thought left his mind as the woman turned and he caught sight of her face. He watched with rapt attention as she stood still for a moment, her mouth working in silent conversation before she strode across the room in the direction of her door. Her purposeful stride broke as something seemed to catch her eye and Jacob realized from the glint of light near her hand that she had stopped before a mirror. He continued to watch in wonder as he saw the woman gaze at her reflection, only now realizing the miraculous transformation that had occurred. Tears that Jacob felt could only be tears of joy, coursed down her cheeks as she stared in awe at her face. Tearing her eyes from the mirror, she hiked up her skirts and ran from the room. Before Jacob could react, he heard a door slam and he saw the woman, still holding up her gathered skirts, run the short distance between the cottage and the barn. She slowed at the entrance and gently pushed open the door. Then, after unconsciously patting her hair, she slipped inside the barn and out of Jacob's view.

He remained on the branch for a time too stunned to move before swinging down to the ground. Crouching low, he cautiously approached the window of the woman's room. His body began to tremble as he remembered with a rush of heat the last time he had approached this place. With a shake of his head, he cleared those lustful thoughts from his mind and turned his attention to his surroundings. He carefully searched through the shadows for any sign that he was not alone, but found none. The man righted from his crouch and looked into the woman's room. Immediately, his eyes alighted upon a small scarlet glow, which emanated from beneath the bed. Without realizing it, he pushed up the casement, hauled himself up and easily flipped through the window to quietly land inside the room. The moment his feet met the floor, the world seemed to spin around him and he dropped to his knees.

Even with eyes closed, Jacob could still feel his world spinning out of control. Drawing a deep, calming breath, he carefully opened his eyes. He jumped to his feet startled to find he was no longer in the cottage in the wood, but it seemed to the mystified young man that he was now in a long, dimly lit hallway of what appeared to be a castle of some sort with walls of dark, rough-hewn stone. Jacob wanted to stop walking down this corridor, to stop, turn and run back down the other way, but his body refused to cooperate with his mind. His eyes swung downwards, taking in the black shimmering robe in which he now found himself clothed and valiantly resisted the blanket of hysteria that threatened to envelop his mind. He had no idea where he was or where he was going, but his body seemed to know and he allowed his mutinous legs to carry him confidently down the corridor. Curiosity finally overcoming his fear, Jacob felt surprise as his feet suddenly stopped before a short, wide oak plank door, bound together with thick iron bands. His hand lifted and he watched as it rapped a deliberate pattern of knocks against its dark rough surface. He waited, shifting from foot to foot before he heard a warm feminine voice on the other side of the door.

"Yes? What do you want? I have told you that I require no assistance in …."

Her words tumbled from her mouth in a garbled rush and stopped as she truly took note of the man standing before her. She gasped and her hand flew to her mouth to muffle her sudden, delighted cry. Before Jacob could take in the young woman's appearance, she literally leapt into his arms and his traitorous arms clutched her in a tight, desperate embrace.

"Oh, Cadmus." She murmured into the soft folds of his robed chest.

She lifted her head and their mouths met in a hungry kiss. She moaned into his mouth as he deepened the joining of their lips. Her hands ran down the sides of his back and stopped to knead and squeeze the firm mounds of his ass. Jacob almost choked as he felt the woman pull him firmly against her body and rub against his rapidly quickening manhood. She chuckled, pleased to find him hard and ready for her. She opened her eyes and lifted her head to gaze upon the face of the man with whom she had unwittingly fallen in love. She raised her hand to caress his cheek softly and then ran her fingers across his succulent lips, which caused him to nip at her playfully. Her lips took on a mischievous smirk, but she suddenly sobered as her eyes met and locked with his. Looking into her hazel eyes, Jacob realized that beneath her lighthearted façade, the woman whom he held in such a loving embrace, felt only sorrow. She attempted to present him with a veneer of happiness to please him, but the emotions he read in her eyes told him everything he wished were not true. Her eyes broke from his and her gaze slid to the floor as she reluctantly pulled away from his embrace.

"Cadmus, what are you doing here? If Agathocles should discover us together, I shudder to think what would happen. We spoke of this and I thought we agreed to the necessity of ending this madness."

Jacob felt his head shake forcefully and wondered if he had any control over this body. It seemed he was now simply a passenger traveling along in this body, seeing, hearing and feeling everything, but affecting nothing.

"No, my love, you spoke, I listened. But I agreed to nothing. How can you even contemplate, much less countenance, the thought of allowing that … that … him to wed and bed you? The only person you protect if we cease to be with one another is I. Sabratha, what do you believe he will do when he discovers that your maidenhead is no more? That you gave it to another. Do you honestly believe he will not care? Do not fool yourself, my love. You will see him in all his unbridled fury when he learns that another took you before he could. You see, to him you are his property and he suffers no man to take what he believes is his. He will not kill you, but he might put you aside and make you his concubine. But, no matter what he calls you, wife or whore, he will punish you for the rest of your life, until you beg for the release of death. However, he will never willingly allow you to leave him. You hold too much power within you, so you will continue. Notice I did not say live. Oh, no! That beast would not allow you the pleasure of death. You shall not live, you shall exist and nothing more." He paused and Jacob felt the man, Cadmus, take a deep breath before he spoke again. "Sabratha, I love you and I know that you love me, too. Please come away with me. Now. This very night. In fact, this very moment. We shall leave his kingdom and settle far away. I cannot allow you to stay here with him when I know how he intends to use you. Surely you know that we could be happy together, you and me. You do not need to sacrifice our love to save me for without you my life is meaningless. You must come away with me! Please say you will. I beg you!"

He watched as her eyes slid away from his to look over his shoulder. Fear twisted in his gut as he saw her eyes widen in horror as they looked past him. He felt her breath catch in her throat as her body violently began to tremble. Silence hung heavily in the room and a sense of dread swept over Jacob.

And, then the sharp crack of someone's hands slowly and purposefully clapping together shattered the quiet of the room. The sound struck his ears like a fist to his gut. A man's jeering voice joined the staccato beat of hands, further twisting his innards.

"Well, is this not sweet? Sabratha, I do believe my wizard, your teacher, loves you. Cadmus, I never took you for a fool, but it seems I was wrong. Either that or you thought me a fool. In either case, I must now exact payment for your folly."

The man never attempted to move towards them, but remained motionless leaning against one side of the doorframe. He lazily lifted his hand, snapped his fingers and then pointed at Cadmus.

"Witch! Bind him."

Jacob winced as he watched his king's eyes run over Sabratha with a hunger that bordered on madness. When at last he brought his eyes to meet hers, Agathocles growled angrily at the emotions he read there. Then, with a coldness belied only by the passionate heat radiating from his eyes, he spoke again.

"On second thought, I believe it is better if you bind them both, Marla. Then, I command you to prepare her for the binding ritual. And, I warn you, attend to her personally, as I shall be most displeased should any mishaps occur." The king turned to Cadmus and spoke in a deceptively casual tone. "I no longer feel the need to bind her to me in marriage. She is used goods now and no longer holds any appeal to me. I shall take no man's castoff as my bride and have no need of any more whores."




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 26-30



Jacob felt more than heard the low growl of hatred emanating from Cadmus, but also sensed the man's sudden powerlessness.

It seems you told me the truth of this matter, Marla. I apologize for my earlier doubt, but I simply could not believe either one of them would be this stupid. Have no fear, I shall reward for your loyalty, witch. Now go and make your preparations wisely. Get her ready for the ritual, which shall bind her power to the stone. And, I shall attend to the punishment of my wizard."

Jacob felt Cadmus try to gather his power and begin an incantation, but an ominous buzzing of wild words assaulted his ears. Jacob realized Cadmus could no longer move his body as the witch's spell held him rooted to the floor. The only part he could move was his eyes, so he turned them to Sabratha. She, too, stood silent and still as stone, her lips drawn into a thin, tight line, tears streaming from her beautiful, hazel eyes. He allowed his thoughts to touch hers in the way he had taught her so long ago and spoke.

"Oh, my darling Sabratha! I failed you! I am so very sorry! Just know this … I love you, only you for all eternity!"

Her anguished voice rang inside his head as she answered him.

"No, I failed you with my indecision. You need not apologize to me. I shall always love you, only you, Cadmus. We are joined souls. And, even if it takes an eternity of searching, I shall find you again. I swear it!"

Suddenly, Jacob felt his body moving again, but he no longer felt the presence of the other man. His body rolled across the floor of Helen's bedroom, his passage stopped only as he collided with a trunk sitting at the foot of the bed. He lay dazedly looking up at the ceiling.

"What the hell?" He swore softly and moaned.

A soft, hesitant voice caused him to jump to his feet.

"Cadmus? Are you all right? Oh, by the Goddess! My love, is it really you?"

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¹ "Mon homme le plus précieux, magnifique!" – Translation: "My most precious, magnificent man!"

² " The queer cuffin may as well bestow the cramp word upon me, as I am about as likely to find success in palaver with Xavier about this as I am to finding myself bleeding emperor of France!" – Translation: "The judge may as well bestow a death sentence upon me, as I am about as likely to find success in lying to Xavier about this as I am to find myself the emperor of France." Reference Source: "The Lexicon of Thieves Cant, First Edition" Compiled by Shaun Hately

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Chapter Twenty-Seven – Xavier

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An ancient evil skillfully sings  of bygone times and broken wings.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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With a cry, the small, shadowy figure lurched upright. It gasped and drew a useless breath into its long dead lungs. As it blinked away the last vestiges of its unnatural slumber, it thrust back the deep sense of foreboding it had carried with it from that dark place of dreamless sleep. It struggled within the confines of its shroud and fought its way back into the world of the living. It lifted a shaking, skeletal hand to its head and pushed back the midnight-colored cowl of the rough garment it wore, then snaked a trembling appendage through its sparse hair.

"You really should know better than to lower your guard and reveal your face, Xavier."

The voice echoed mockingly throughout the dimly lit room. The creature hunched over for a moment, before it relaxed and began to chuckle softly, amazed at its own foolishness.

"Better yet," the voice continued, "You really should not talk to yourself and feel frightened. That makes you seem a rather pathetic thing, does it not?" It scoffed. "I do believe I could do with a bit of light."

Another mirthless chuckle echoed about the corners of the room.

"Well, at least a bit of candle light, anyway. Anything stronger than that probably would wreak havoc on my fair complexion." He quipped sardonically.

Xavier pushed aside the blankets, sprang up and alighted nimbly on the floor next to the bed. There was a soft whoosh of cloth as Xavier's robe dropped to the floor revealing a diminutive, almost petite form, which seemed to glow with innate phosphorescence. It raised a delicate arm, holding its palm up and with a surprisingly commanding voice intoned, "Lumière!"

With a theatrical flash, the wicks of dozens of candles burst into flame, casting the sole occupant of the room into brilliant relief. The naked form of a woman stood next to the bed. Her hoary hair, white-blue eyes and alabaster skin glowed with the same silver-blue as the light of a full moon. She cackled and twirled, relishing in her momentary freedom. Her waltzing form glided about the room, the lights cast by the candles flickered and cast a myriad of distorted shapes upon the walls. As she danced about the room, she seemed to merge in and out of her shadows. She moved faster and faster until it became impossible to separate the woman from the shadows. And then, she stopped and stooped to the floor, picked up her robe and slipped it on once more, drawing the multitude of shadows back into her. Her head snapped around to gaze at a candle and she froze as it sputtered and went out. Her lips curled back into a feral grimace, revealing two wickedly sharp canine teeth. Her tiny hands swiftly covered her head with the cowl and she snarled, "Obscurité!" All but a few of the freshly lit candles instantly went out without so much as a puff of smoke, seemingly as if never lit. She crossed the room, moving to her large, wing-backed chair, sat down and waited.

A large man with a swarthy complexion swept into the room and bowed obsequiously before her chair. She hissed her displeasure, but the man feigned not to notice. After allowing a moment to pass in dramatic silence, the man cleared his throat, but Xavier cut off his words and spoke first.

"Sorin¹, you had best speak your news now before I remove your ability to move under the light of your namesake and you find yourself forever bound to me in the darkness. Why are you here and where is Jacob?"

An oily smile slithered across the gypsy's dark face.

"Well, now, me thinks ta answers ta both of 'em questions really be one and ta same. Firstly, however, methinks that I need ta renegotiate terms …."

The man's words ended in a strangled cry as his head suddenly slammed against the room's far wall, his body dangling as if pinned by a pair of large, invisible hands. His black eyes rolled in fear, which caused a chuckle to escape from Xavier.

"All you need do now is snort and you shall fully resemble the beast you are, Sorin. At least you remind me why I allow you to continue with your worthless existence … your fear provides me with endless hours of enjoyment and entertains me immensely."

Sorin caught a glimpse of the hooded figure and watched as its head shook from side to side. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck and the man could not decide if its cause was fear or the sweltering temperature of the room.

"Not that it really matters none …."

Xavier moved closer to the helpless man and Sorin sensed the smirk hidden beneath the cowl. His cock shriveled miserably and Sorin felt an icy grip squeeze his manhood painfully as his mind took in Xavier's next words.

"Ah, yes, Sorin. At last, you realize … it really does not matter."

A sharp bark of laughter.

"Allow me to rephrase … you have never really mattered. Now, report your news."

Xavier waved a hand casually at Sorin and the man slid down the wall. He fell into a seemingly boneless heap on the floor, breathing heavily. After a few moments, he collected himself and sat with his back propped against the wall. He rubbed at his neck absentmindedly before he began to speak, the words flooding from his mouth in a torrent.

"The lady you said ta look fer is thar. Jacob went into ta ol' woman's place. I sees him meself. Climbed in … nah … rolled in as if'n he owned ta place. He laid on ta floor and I was thinkin' he stunned hisself, but it were not so. I must have blinked cause one minute he be in thar alone and ta next, there's this naked girl sittin' on ta bed lookin' down on him. Tha' be one fuckin' gorgeous twat, too! Hair ta color of hot coals, likin' ya said ta look fer. I didna wait ta sees anythin' else. I turned and came right here to ya jus' likin' ya said ta do."

The man ceased his desperate rambling as he realized that although he sweated profusely, the temperature in the room grew decidedly cooler with each word that spilled from his mouth. Sorin's eyes slid hesitantly in the direction of the boiler room's door and his face paled. He panicked and without thought, he blurted.

"Er … um … I just thought … tha' ya might be wantin' to know. After all, ya said ta tell if'n Jacob went inta the cottage, I should tell, so I dun it. Didna I do it? Should I go back now, Monsieur?"

Xavier began to laugh and Sorin felt his balls contract in fear.

"Monsieur? Surely, your eyes can see more clearly than that, Sorin. I am Marla and after this evening, all shall know me, desire me, love me and worship me. For far too long the eyes of the world passed over me, but no more. Tonight I shall correct the errors made so long ago."

Returning her attention to the man, she hissed, "Transformez!"

Sorin looked about him in confusion. A sense of vertigo gripped him causing his stomach to lurch and his head to ache. He watched the walls of the room lengthen, the room growing ever larger, until it seemed large enough to house a giant. He shook his head to clear it of the queer buzzing noise, which filled his ears and let out a sharp screech. The last words the transformed gypsy recognized were ….

"Aye, Sorin. You may go back now. Back to being the rat, you have always been. Quite fitting do you not think? Scamper away now before I stomp on you, vermin!"

And then, Sorin was no more and a fat, oily black rat chittered loudly as it scurried away into the shadows.

"I do believe that it is time for me to pay my dear Jacob a visit and thank him for allowing me to use him to bring Cadmus to Sabratha or Diamanté or whatever it is that bitch calls herself now. If what that fool, Sorin, told me is true, Cadmus must hold sway over Jacob's body, so Sabratha no longer has the power of the bracelet to protect her. For I wove into the binding spell the provision that as soon as she reunites with Cadmus, the power of the bracelet ends and she becomes mortal. And, she is mortal and vulnerable now! Oh, Sabratha! You always lived with your nose held too high in the air. You thought yourself better than me, but you are nothing more than a spoiled bitch! I hate you! That fool of a king was easy to use. He had no idea that I used him as a puppet, tempting him with your maidenhead. It is so easy to lead men by their cocks. The only thing that caught me unaware was how that wizard reacted to you. I did not count on the two of you falling in love. Oh! The two of you shall pay for causing me to wait so long for my plans to come to fruition. Ha! You were such a naïve girl. You never suspected that I betrayed your tryst with Cadmus to the king. That it was my spell, which provided him with the inspiration to entrap you within the ruby charm. I just never imagined it would take so long to reunite you with Cadmus, but I was patient. Oh, yes, so very patient! And now, I shall reap my reward. Your power is mine now, cunt! Tonight, before you or your foolish, love-besotted wizard has time to regain your powers, I shall be there to put an end to the both of you. I shall at long last see the end of you both. You shall die this night and my life shall begin again! A soul for a soul! Your soul for mine. More than a fair trade, I think. And, if I add the soul of Cadmus to the offering, well, I need not worry about my deal any longer. But, first, I do believe that I feel a bit peckish. I need to make a stop before I pay my respects to the de Blanc household for a bite to eat."

Xavier threw her head back and gleefully filled the room with peals of her high-pitched laughter, which echoed off the grime-encrusted walls. A pair of frightfully long and wickedly sharp canines glistened in the dim light of the room's candles. Holding her arms out wide, she spun like a top and slowly drew her arms above her head. When her palms touched, she commanded, "Voyagez!"

The undead creature disappeared in a puff of thick, black smoke.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Christine's giggle caught Erik's attention and he looked up at her, his tongue still teasing her erect nipple through the layers of her clothing. He raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"What?"

She brushed an errant lock of his hair from his eyes and allowed a mischievous grin to turn up the corners of her mouth.

"While I love how you make me feel, I think it would be nicer for us for our first time if we moved to your bed. After all, it is only two steps away from us. What do you think, mon amour?"

The young man returned her grin and moving with surprising swiftness scooped the woman up into his arms. She shrieked playfully and he laughed merrily.

"Oh, I do believe that I am going to enjoy our lovemaking, Christine. This may sound strange, but I think we are going to have a lot of fun tonight, ma chéri. I want to make you laugh often tonight for it is the loveliest sound I have ever heard."

He tossed her onto the bed, which earned him another shriek and he smirked sardonically at her.

"I think we both are quite overdressed for the occasion. What do you think, Christine?"

She giggled.

"Oh, Monsieur! I quite agree!"

She rolled over onto her stomach and turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. She teasingly batted her eyelashes at him and graced him with a coquettish smile.

"Do you think you could assist a lady in need?"

She bit her lip and grinned, which he immediately returned. She watched expectantly as he unfastened the line of buttons running down the front of his shirt as well as those at his cuffs and shrugged it from his shoulders where it pooled near his feet on the floor. He performed a low, courtly bow, which he executed with a slow and deliberately seductive grace. Christine trembled with pleasurable anticipation as her eyes ran over the strongly muscled and broad expanse of his chest, admiring its light dusting of dark hair at its center. She gasped as she felt a tingling in her nipples and a wave of warmth and wetness begin to seep from her core.

"I would be honored, Mademoiselle." He purred.

He hopped onto the bed and watched as a startled Christine bounced and laughed gaily. He then rolled to her side and quickly began to unfasten the laces and buttons on her dress. As his efforts began to reveal the alabaster skin, hidden beneath the gown, his grin faded and a feral look of hunger soon replaced it. He leaned over and following the path his fingers exposed, he placed a trail of light kisses down her spine. He growled his approval when he noticed that his attentions elicited a rosy flush to sweep across the exposed skin as well as a mass of goosebumps. Encouraged by her moans of pleasure, he alternated his kisses with soft nips. Christine pushed up from the mattress and allowed her dress to slide down her arms, allowing Erik to catch his first glimpse of a woman's breasts as the creamy pair spilled over the top of her corset. He moaned and moved off the bed to stand next to her panting, flushed body.

"Oh, Christine!"

He quickly stripped her dress from her, tossed it carelessly to the floor and turned his attention to the hooks of her corset. He made quick work of removing the corset and her undergarments; all too soon, they joined her dress on the floor.

His eyes raked over her flushed and now naked form and he felt his cock twitch within the tight confines of his trousers. The cloth of his undergarment stuck to the sticky tip of his manhood, which wept small pearly tears caused by his excited state. Christine turned to lie on her back. She arched her spine and closed her eyes as she ran her hands up her sides to cup her taut, tight-tipped breasts. Erik's breath caught in his throat and he almost cried out in painful pleasure at the mesmerizing sight stretched out before him.

"I never thought to see anything so lovely in my entire life and now, you offer all this to me, Christine?"

Brown eyes, which sparkled brilliantly, looked up at him. For a moment, they searched his own and then shyly lowered beneath thick, dark lashes.

"Oh, Erik, I have been yours from the first moment I sensed your presence in our dream. Yours is the only touch I have ever craved and you are the only man I shall ever love."

She held out trembling arms to him.

"Make love with me, Erik. Let us become one."

Never breaking his eyes away from hers, he removed his trousers and undergarments then climbed back onto the bed and took Christine into his strong arms. The utter bliss he felt as his bare skin pressed against hers was one that he would always remember, but never find adequate words to express. Eyes closed, his lips met hers and then their tongues intertwined with maddening intensity. Her hand encircled his manhood and drew him to her virgin cleft. Their eyes snapped open and their gaze locked upon one another. His eyebrow arched its inquiry. She nodded slightly in response. The moment before he plunged into his love, a series of thoughts emblazoned through his reeling mind.

"Everything is so quiet. Mon Dieu! She knows! At last, she has control of the storm within her!"

And, then his hips thrust down and hers slammed up, to join them as lovers forever.

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¹ Sorin – Romanian male name derived from the word, "soare," meaning "sun."

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Chapter Twenty-Eight – Mythos

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Each society clings to the security of its mythos. But, sometimes beliefs need to change in order that the world may grow.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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"Damn it! Why is it that flies never seem to sleep?"

Edgar flicked his long, floppy ears in a vain attempt to dislodge the insect, which clung so tenaciously to the corner of his eye. He gave a short snort of frustration and shook his head.

"Who would think that a man that was once a king could fall so low? Yet, I know that I have no one to blame for my current abasement but me. I brought this retribution upon myself. Oh, yes! My state is an irony that shines both in its utter absurdity and in its supreme glory! It is fitting that I am an ass re-made as I acted the part in my past life. Still, it makes it all the more difficult to carry out my purpose now as I cannot easily converse with my charges."

He inhaled deeply and the scents that assaulted his large, velvety nostrils sent a pang through his body that struck straight down to his loins. The nearby fragrance of Helen's arousal and the outright odor of sexual congress wafting heavily on the gentle nighttime breeze from the cottage were almost enough to banish all cognizant thought other than lust from his mind. But, Edgar pushed his bestial urges aside as his nostrils inhaled two unfamiliar scents that drifted alongside the baser ones, two new human scents. Another thrill ran through Edgar's body, but this time the cause of his excitement was protective, not sensual. Four humans now occupied the cottage, two women and two men. Edgar easily recognized the almost overpowering odors of Erik and Christine as the two joyously engaged in a long-awaited carnal embrace, but the other pair was new to him … and at the same time all too familiar. His nostrils flared as he breathed deep and concentrated on the subtle scents of the strangers, which had taken up residence in the cottage. Edgar nickered nervously, his hind quarters twitching and his tail swishing as his mind struggled to place an identity to the couple. Understanding dawned and his eyes widened and rolled with his excitement.




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 26-30



"By the Goddess! Can it be? Sabratha and Cadmus are in the cottage! Oh, shit! Could I choose a worse time to interrupt? Damn it! My apologies Helen, and, you too, Khalid, but I have no choice. At least I need not disturb Erik and Christine. After all, in order that all go well this evening, those two must find their release in order for Christine's power to ripen fully. Ah, fuck it! Well, there is no getting around it. Helen and Khalid will just have to wait a little while longer." 

His attention returned to the man he thought of as his best friend and to the woman whom his friend loved. His lips twisted in a grimace of regret as his eyes took in the desperate strength of their grip on one another, the frantic grinding of their bodies against each other, the deep throaty groans of Khalid and the light musical cries of Helen. As he watched, the pair began to sink to the ground, intent only on slaking their passion.

"Oh, shit! I had better do something and do it quick before things progress past the point of no return! I really have no wish to witness such an intimate moment!"

And with that thought, Edgar lifted up on his hind legs and began to slash against the stall door with his forelegs. An off-key, braying scream burst from him as he realized the barrier would not open to his current method of attack. Deciding upon an alternate means to gain his end, he turned and bucked his hind legs into the gate, which immediately disintegrated into a splintered mass. So intent upon his need to stop the frantic caresses of his friends, Edgar was only barely aware of his surroundings. He charged blindly toward the pair, his animal instincts drawn by the intoxicating perfume of Helen's arousal. At the last moment, he drew upon the last vestiges of his control, veered past the startled would-be lovers, burst through the barn door and charged out into the night.

"What the fuck?" Khalid sputtered.

"Heavenly Goddess! Whatever is the matter with him?" Helen gasped.

They stared in stunned confusion at one another for a moment, both panting and then with a shake to clear his head, Khalid sighed and spoke.

"Come on! We need to catch him before he gets lost in the woods."

Helen grimaced as she tugged at her dress, which swam about her newly restored body. She rolled her eyes in frustration and reluctantly nodded.

"Wonderful! Your timing is perfection itself, Edgar." She groused.

Khalid smiled ruefully as he leaned in to place a light kiss on her forehead and then he surprised her by playfully rubbing his nose against hers.

"I could not agree with your sentiment more, mon amour."

Taking her hand in his, he led her out of the barn, calling for Edgar as he strode briskly across the yard. He paused when he heard a woman's scream and Edgar's hoarse bray.

"Mon Dieu! Now what? Come on, Helen!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"Cadmus?"

Jacob took an involuntary step back from the vision kneeling before him on the bed. His eyes ran over the woman, taking in her mane of fire-red curls that cascaded about her body to pool about her on the bed, the delicate features of her face with its high cheek bones and bee-stung lips and the almost marble-like translucence of her skin. When his searching gaze met hers, he became blissfully lost in their hazel depths. The woman tore her eyes from his and Jacob watched as she took stock of his body. When her eyes once more met his own, her smile was both shy and seductive.

"It is good to see you again, Cadmus. You look well." She paused and a pained looked crossed her face. "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Before Jacob could gather his wits to answer her, she turned away from him. Her movement sent her long tresses bouncing and she tossed them back over her shoulder. Jacob's mouth went dry and his reply caught in his throat as he noticed for the first time that the woman's curls were her only raiment. He cleared his throat and ran his tongue over his parched lips, but no sooner did he attempt to open his mouth to speak, when the woman began to scream. Another howl joined the woman and Jacob whipped his head around to the source of the second cry. He gaped in surprise as he saw the large head of the Persian's mule stuck through the bedroom window with its mouth open and braying at the top of its lungs. Without realizing what his body did, Jacob moved to the woman and wrapped her into a protective embrace. The woman reacted immediately to his touch, fell silent, turned and burrowed her face into his chest. Jacob shuddered. The woman's touch unlocked a hidden floodgate deep within him and released a wave of memories, which swept through his mind. Images of this woman he now held in his arms. He saw the woman lying beneath him, her hair a burning halo framing a face damp with perspiration and her eyes lit with passion. He remembered the sound of her laughter and the joy he felt knowing he caused her happiness. Another image, one of holding her hands and whispering words of love. And suddenly, he knew who she was and who he was. Jacob sighed and closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes to find he was no longer in Helen's bedroom, but walking down a long stone-lined corridor. Strangely, he felt no fear, only the strange anticipation one feels when nearing the end of a long journey. After walking a short time, he saw a tall figure walking toward him. The two men locked eyes, but said nothing. They paused for a moment before they passed each other, each quietly studying the other man's face. Still in silence, they nodded a greeting and then continued walking in opposite directions along the passageway.

As the other man's footfalls faded into the distance, Jacob called out to him, "Bonne chance!"

Without turning around, Cadmus replied.

"Merci, mon ami. Merci pour tout.¹"

Jacob sighed once more, blinked and found he now lie comfortably ensconced in a bed with a feather mattress and pillows, covered with satin sheets and a delightfully warm quilt. He snuggled deeper under the bedclothes, closed his eyes and Jacob fell into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Cadmus became aware that he was no longer alone. He felt a woman's body wrapped within the protective embrace of his arms. He inhaled deeply the remembered scent of his beloved and opened his eyes.

"Sabratha? Do not fear. I am here with you." He whispered.

He pressed his lips to the top of her head, savoring the texture of the silky tresses against his mouth and allowed his hands to run over the remembered and well-loved curves of her body. His manhood awoke and swiftly rose to a throbbing hardness between them. A groan of desire escaped his lips.

She responded to the rising heat of his body with a soft gasp, her hands reached around him, clasped the taut globes of his buttocks and pulled him tightly to her. The two moaned a passionate duet as their bodies ground against one another. In a spiral of lust, the two descended to the bed, the beast at the window forgotten. A breathless Sabratha broke her lips away from the man she had almost given up hope of ever seeing again.

"Oh, Cadmus, you do remember me. I could feel your presence, but when I looked into your eyes …. I could not find you there."

He drew back from her slightly, so he could look fully into her eyes. His smile gentle. A look, which made Sabratha's heart jump in her chest and then he carefully brushed an errant lock of her fiery curls behind her ear.

"Oui. I remember you, but everything else is … well, a bit jumbled. I believe it may take some time for me to sort through everything. I need to separate which memories belong to Jacob and those that belong to me, but, now, the memories I have of you …. Well, I remember everything about you. Oh! What is this? Tears? Sweet Sabratha, do not cry. We have found one another at last and I shall never let you go again. I swear it!"

A sound, which was half chuckle and half sob, escaped the woman's lips before the pair once again melded their lips together in a searing kiss. Their hands began a trembling exploration of each other's body and when the man's hand brushed across the hardened tip of her bare nipple, a shocked exclamation escaped from Cadmus.

"Oh my love! I forget myself! You are unclothed and I fear someone shall soon discover us because of the beast's calls of alarm. We must cover your nakedness before the entire household arrives. I refuse to share the sight of your beauty with anyone."

He lifted his head to stare into the rippling colors of her hazel eyes. His perusal suddenly interrupted by the slight crinkling of the corners of her eyes and the tinkling tone of her bell-like laughter.

"Oh, this is perfect! Just one more way that I can shock Madame Helen!" She began to tease then paused as she noticed how Cadmus' face paled at the thought of her baring her body to anyone other than him. Lifting her hand, she gently caressed his cheek. "Do not concern yourself, mon amour. I can wrap myself in the comforter, but you need to move or I will have to wrap you up in it with me."

She bit her lip to suppress a giggle at the shocked look on his face.

"Mon Dieu! I almost giggled! I cannot remember the last time I laughed, much less giggled. Ah, love, it makes fools of us all!"

"Well? Do you plan on moving any time soon?"

And this time, a small, throaty chuckle escaped her lips.

He blinked, released her and scrambled off the bed. She quickly tugged the quilt around her body just as she heard the sound of voices approaching the window. Glancing at the window, she watched just as the great gray head of the mule lifted and backed away into the night. Sabratha heard a man's voice speaking in soothing tones to the animal, but it was the woman's words, which caused her to erupt in peels of unrestrained laughter.

"Merde! Khalid! Leave Edgar the fuck alone and get your ass over here! There is a strange woman in my bed and I believe she is naked!"

The words of Robert Southey's "The Story of the Three Bears" ran unbidden through Sabratha's head.

"And when the Little, Small, Wee Bear came to look at his bed, there was the bolster in its place; and the pillow in its place upon the bolster; and upon the pillow was the little old Woman's ugly, dirty head – which was not in its place, for she had no business there. "Somebody has been lying in my bed and here she is!" said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice.²"

And, Sabratha found herself laughing so hard that for the first time in millennia, she laughed so hard that she cried.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

¹ "Merci, mon ami. Merci pour tout." – Translation: Thank you, my friend. Thank you for everything.

² "And when the Little, Small, Wee Bear came to look at his bed, there was the bolster in its place; and the pillow in its place upon the bolster; and upon the pillow was the little old Woman's ugly, dirty head – which was not in its place, for she had no business there. "Somebody has been lying in my bed and here she is!" said the Little, Small, Wee Bear, in his little, small, wee voice." – "The Story of the Three Bears" from "The Doctor" by Robert Southey, 1837.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter Twenty-Nine – Peril

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The perilous tides of deceit do rise,  beckoning precipitous fate with all of its lies.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A sharp, yet soft cry of pain escaped Christine's mouth as her body surrendered its innocence to Erik. She sucked in a hissing breath then released both the breath and the tense muscles of her body. With trembling hands, she took hold of Erik's shoulders, firmly grasped the taut body of the man above her and began to rock her body against him.

"Christine?"

His voice barely a whisper, she knew what he asked without him speaking the words. She answered him by pulling down on his shoulders and thrusting up with her hips. The momentary pain had been surprisingly intense, but her burning desire for something more soon overcame the brief discomfort. She burned for him. For months, they both denied their bodies this long awaited joining. The titillating torture of allowing Erik to touch her every day as he retrained her body was now at last at an end. They were one now.

"Always yours …."

"Forever mine …."

"Together …."

"For all time …."

Christine heard the words, but she was so lost in her desperate need to slake the fire, which raged through her body that she had no idea if she spoke or if Erik spoke them. And, she did not care.

"Oh, Erik! Oui!"

He allowed a relieved groan to slip free as her words shattered the last bonds of his restraint and he began to fulfill her need with his own urgent rhythm. His mouth moved down the delicate column of her throat and he nipped at her delicate flesh. Dragging his hands away from her breasts, he planted them on either side of her and held his torso above her.

"Look at me, Christine!"

His words were a plea, not a command. Gentle and beseeching. She opened her eyes and lifted them to his. Their eyes met. Flaming amber and burnt umber. They could not look away from each other. They had no wish to look away. Erik surrendered to his body's overwhelming need. His hard shaft pistoned into the welcoming wetness of her sheath with an ever increasing rapidity. Christine met each of his thrusts with powerful, fluid movements of her own. Still their eyes held fast, one to the other. And, in the depths of their eyes, a small flame sparked and a fire ignited. The fire kindled and burned brighter as time seemed to hold its breath and waited for the moment of their completion. They hovered at the brink of ecstasy, the joy of their coupling evident in the passionate duet of their gasps and sighs. At the moment of their release, the fire within their eyes seemed to explode, which caused a mystical shower of sparks visible only to the eyes of the lovers. The fiery bits of light danced about their heads before slowly drifting down to settle like snowflakes on their naked bodies entwined on the bed. They panted heavily and smiled dreamily. The flaming amber eyes now held flecks of burnt umber. The eyes of burnt umber held sparks of flaming amber.

"Je t'aime, Christine."

"Je t'aime aussi, Erik."

The lovers sighed, sated and exhausted. Then, in the wondrous stillness of the chilly autumn night, the two held one another close, rolled onto their sides to face one another, kissed tenderly, smiled sleepily, closed their eyes and allowed Hypnos to lead them together into a corner of his realm prepared especially for them.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Edgar allowed Khalid to lead him away from the window, but when Helen began to shout, the man dropped his hold on Edgar's lead rope and rushed to her side. The mule's lips curled in a bestial approximation of a smirk when he heard the indignant tone of Helen's voice.

"Poor thing! Today has brought some rather unexpected changes to her life, but the largest shock of the day still awaits her. For sitting on her bed is …. Well, someone she never thought of as a person. But, I allow my mind to wander and I do not have time to muse. I need to find help. As I no longer seem the center of their attention, there is no better time than the present, I suppose. Well, off I go!"

And, with surprisingly little sound, the beast with a soul that once belonged to a king, trotted away into the forest unnoticed. He wandered for quite some time, pausing only to lift his nose to scent the air. The trees became thicker, the forest floor dense with deadfall and the light dimmed by the impenetrable canopy of branches overhead. After stumbling over a tree stump hidden under a pile of moldering leaves, Edgar halted, flexing his forelock. He sighed with relief as he noted he had done no serious damage to his leg and then stood there panting for a moment as he tried to catch his breath.

"I need to slow down if I intend to catch the scent of the being that is the subject of my search. It would be just my luck to run past in my hurry and miss it altogether. Very well old boy … breathe in … breathe out. In. Out. That is much better. I just wish I could find some water … stop it! Concentrate! Time is short! Taste the air … can you catch the scent?"

Lifting his head high to clear the air of his own scent, he closed his eyes and breathed. He concentrated on each flavor carried on the breeze into his large, flaring nostrils. He was not certain what he sought, but for some reason unknown to him, he knew he would know it as soon as he smelled it. Long minutes passed and he began to despair. A gray squirrel, a red fox, a brown hare and the almost overwhelming scent of decaying autumn leaves surrounded him. Somewhere, far in the distance, the odor of wild boar and freshly dug truffles lightly teased his nose. It was the truffles, which caused a thrill of excitement to course through his body, although he was unsure as to the reason why. He inhaled deeply once more, curling his upper lip to hold the scent inside his nostrils and caught it. He tossed his head and gave an excited snort.

"Yes! That is it! I must follow that scent! Now, I can only pray that I am not too late!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

"And, just what do you find so amusing? How dare you laugh at me? How dare you? This is my home … that is my bed! This is the one place that no one could …."

The woman bit her lip. Her fury clearly visible in her glowering eyes, her flushed face and in every inch of her trembling body. Helen whirled suddenly to Khalid.

"Lend me a hand." She demanded with narrowed eyes.

"I beg your pardon?" He stammered uncertainly.

"Bend over and hold out your hands. I need your help to climb through the window. You do not think that I will allow them out of my sight for even one moment. Do you?" As he continued to stare at her in stunned silence, she repeated angrily. "Well, do you? Now, come on, help me up!"

As if awakening from a trance, Khalid snapped into action. He laced his fingers together, bent down and offered his cupped palms to Helen. She rested a steadying hand on his shoulder, stepped up into his hands and then hoisted herself onto the windowsill. Her feet scrabbled against the wall for a moment in an attempt to lift the rest of her body into the room. She gasped in surprise as she felt two hands push against her bottom and lift her to safety. She sucked in a sharp breath when she felt a finger run quickly along the cleft of her womanhood. But, before she could respond to the touch, she found herself perched in the window. Before turning her attention to the couple in her room, she threw Khalid a heated glance and shook her head at him. 

"Khalid …." She moaned softly.

He grinned and shrugged his shoulder.

"Sorry, my dear. When it comes to you, I find that I simply cannot help myself! Well, actually, I wish to help myself … to you!" He smirked. "Tend to the matter at hand and then we will have the rest of the night for us."

She swung her legs through the window and hopped down. Turning to gaze upon the strangers in her bedroom, she felt her fury disappear and a strange sense of familiarity tugged at her consciousness. Helen gave herself a slight shake to dispel the odd sensations crawling through her gut, but she suddenly realized these two were no strangers. Her voluminous dress felt twisted and she tugged at the bodice to right it. She smoothed down the skirt and took several calming breaths before she finally managed to speak.




The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 31-32







The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 31-32



His eyes widened as a sudden realization hit him.

"I am at peace with my life. I never thought I could feel this way, but I do. Especially after the way my life began. And it is thanks to Helen, Khalid, Christine and even Edgar. I never thought to find their love and friendship that dark and stormy night. I never even hoped to dream of it, but here I am and here it is. Since I now have Christine, the only thing I need to make life perfect is to have Helen back safe and sound. I wonder if Christine could use the letter portal to bring Helen back …."

He found his quiet musing interrupted by the feeling of eyes upon him and he looked up to find four pairs of eyes staring at him. He pushed off the doorframe and stepped into the room, wrapping his arm about Christine's waist. He pulled her close to him, reveling in her warmth and the pleasure her nearness caused him. He nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck and breathed deep of her body's natural scent, which caused him to feel almost intoxicated. He looked up when he felt the room go silent.

"What?"

Christine shook her head and chuckled softly as Khalid snorted in disgust. Erik pulled Christine tighter to his body and almost groaned aloud when Christine ground her backside against his aroused manhood.

"Really, Erik," the distressed older man snapped. "Now is not the time for you to moon about like a lovesick schoolboy. We need to do something. Who knows what that creature intends to do to Helen? It might even decide to turn her!"

Erik and Christine's eyes turned as one to meet Khalid's, and he gasped. Their eyes held complementary flames of amber and umber. The older man took an involuntary step back as he placed his hand on his chest to cover his pounding heart. He panted for a moment and then took a hesitant step toward the couple. He looked intently into first Erik's amber and then Christine's umber. He gasped.

"Allah, protect us! What have the two of you done?"

His eyes darkened and his lips curled into a snarl. He turned away and threw his hands up into the air.

"Oh! This is perfect! It seems that our only hope is now demon-possessed as well. Ha!" He gave a short bark of laughter. "I guess there is no reason for me to stay here any longer. I can expect no assistance from either of you. And to think that I was fool enough to believe that I could trust you, Erik, well, I guess that just goes to show the more fool am I. Argh … well, mon ami, adieu et bonne chance!²"

The sarcastic tone of his words hung heavily in the air as he leaned forward and spat derisively on the floor just in front of Erik's feet. The furious man began to thunder toward the bedroom door, but halted when Erik, with Christine still in his embrace, blocked his path. Khalid spun on his heel and strode to the window. He thrust the sash up with a savage force until it would open no further. He placed his hands on the ledge and began to pull his body onto the windowsill. Christine gasped and Erik's eyes darkened, but before the rapidly deteriorating situation got any worse, a soft voice began to speak.

"Things seldom are as they seem. Monsieur, you should not judge by appearance that which you do not truly understand. Do not judge with your eyes, but with your heart. Do not think, but feel. Close your eyes. Tell me, Monsieur, what does your heart tell you? How do your friends make you feel?"

Khalid paused and turned his head back to the room. All eyes turned to the small woman with flaming red hair. Wrapped as she was in the comforter from Helen's bed, it lent her small frame the air of a lost child. Her wild curls seemed to float about her head, bouncing as if caressed by an unseen wind. Her hazel eyes were soft and her full lips turned up in a gentle smile. Cadmus released her from his embrace and she took a tentative step towards Khalid.

"Come, Monsieur. Do not lend aid to our enemy by leaving here. If you go alone to confront the beast, you will not save your lady. You may only place your own life in peril. Come; let me prove to you that your perceptions are incorrect. That the thing you fear is false. Surely, you do not wish to provide succor to the beast with your anger."

She lifted a small well-shaped hand and beckoned to Khalid. He sighed. Releasing his grip on the window, he dropped back to the floor. Sabratha's smile grew wider and she nodded slightly.

"Merci, Monsieur. The thing you see between your friends is a very special bond. Born of magic and the deepest love, it is a rare thing, but it is not evil. It is exactly what we need to triumph over the beast. For is not two greater than one? The beast is unaware that there is one to stand against him—now think how the surprise of two joined in power can lend aid to our cause."

She paused, tilting her head to the side as if listening and then returned her attention to Khalid with a wide grin.

"I do believe that a very close acquaintance of yours is on the way here and he brings help with him. So hold and be at peace, Monsieur. Hold your despair in abeyance, for while it may now seem dark, the dawn is not far off. And with the new day comes hope. Not all is lost, not yet, and Helen still lives. I can feel her." Her eyes took on a soft, dreamy look for a moment before snapping back into sharp focus. She chuckled softly and shook her head, obviously amused by whatever it was she saw or heard. "The beast does not intend to touch her. It left her with one it thought newly turned so she could become its first meal. The beast originally planned to use me for this purpose and I would have been helpless to foil its plans. Helen, however, is far from helpless. In fact, I do believe the beast is in for a bit of a surprise from our Helen, for it knows her but little."

Her head tilted further, her cheeks flushed and she giggled softly.

"And, when all is said and done, our Helen, she is a lady, is she not? We all know how decorous and modest our Helen is, non? One might even go so far as to say that to compare her shyness with that of a shrinking violet would be most appropriate. Would you not agree?"

Sabratha's wide eyes feigned an air of earnest innocence as she spoke, but a small smirk that tugged at the corner of her mouth told of her true feelings. She bit her bottom lip to tame her smile, but surrendered the farce when everyone, including a reluctant Khalid, began to snicker. The dark man shook his head and with the same air of restraint, responded to Sabratha's jest.

"Oh, yes! Our Helen is quite the lady, so demure and restrained. It is a wonder that we cannot hear her swearing from here."

The chuckles evolved swiftly into full-blown gales of laughter at Khalid's comment. Erik drew Christine close to his chest and breathed his words softly into her ear.

"That was a close thing, was it not? Sabratha has a gift. It appears that she knows just how to handle people in order to keep emotions calm. I do not wish to contemplate what could have happened if Khalid had gone off alone. That probably would have played right into Xavier's plans. Certainly, it is simpler to pick off people one at a time than an entire group. We are stronger together than apart."

He burrowed his nose into the crook of her neck, breathing deeply of his beloved's scent, and sighed.

"Oh, Christine, mon amour!"

Erik started slightly when Christine's response resounded within his mind.

"Ah, mon ange, our strength certainly does not lie in our numbers, but in each of our gifts. However, until each of us learns what they can do alone, you are most certainly correct … remaining together is the wisest course of action."

A trumpeting bray interrupted the lovers' conversation. A shrill neigh drew the room's occupants to look out the window into the moonlit yard where a triumphant Edgar pranced about with a shadowy figure sitting astride his back. Suddenly, Edgar reared up on his hind legs and screamed. The creature on his back threw his shaggy face to the sky and laughed.

Christine scowled, walked to the window, her hands akimbo and called out the window.

"Leshii Basajaun! Behave yourself! It is my hope that you are here to lend us aid in the task before us. However, if you intend to thwart us with your tricks, I must inform you that I shall not allow it. I have no need for you to be here at all and you know it! It is to the favor of both of us that we join forces. So, come, get down from Edgar's back and stop torturing him this instant! We have desperate need of palaver. Come, Lord of the Forest! Let us sit together, share a good meal and make plans to foil the instrument of the night."

~~~~~~~~~~~

¹ "Roi de mon coeur! Seigneur de mon amour!" – Translation: "King of my heart! Lord of my love!"

² "mon ami, adieu et bonne chance!" – Translation: "my friend, goodbye and good luck!"

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The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 33







The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 34







The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 35







The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 36



Never throw away broken pieces;

you never know where they may fit.

A Fool's Book of Wisdom

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The man awoke and stretched. He could not remember the last time he had slept so long or in as comfortable a bed. He smiled and stretched again. He felt good; his spirit lighter somehow. Then a thought marred his previous happiness and a small frown tugged at the corners of his mouth and drew a crease between his brows. He looked around and realized that he did not recognize the place where he found himself, nor did he remember just how he came about being there. The bed where he lay was in the center of a round room, the walls constructed of gray blocks of rough hewn stone. He struggled to a sitting position and his frown deepened, as his body did not respond as he thought it should. He felt sluggish and clumsy as if he were a wee babe just learning how to control his movements.

"Where the hell am I and what the fuck did I do last night?" He groaned.

He almost fell out of the bed when he heard a sniggering laugh come from behind him and a deep male voice responded, "Well, Jacob, you are not anywhere and, unfortunately, you did not do anything last night, but I most certainly did." As Jacob fought to turn his body around, the voice took on a serious note, "However, I would like to thank you for the use of your body. Your assistance shall not go unrewarded."

A female voice joined the male, "Yes, dearest Jacob, thank you. When you wake, we give you a choice: you may continue with your life as you have or you may avail yourself of the gift we left you. The decision is yours to make, choose well."

"Fare thee well, Jacob." Just as the voices echoed throughout the room, Jacob managed to roll over and promptly fell off the bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sat up sputtering and spat out a mouthful of mud. He swiped his arm across his muddied face and dug a pebble from his forehead. He scrubbed at his eyes and when he at last found he could open them, he froze at the sight kneeling before him.

"Are you real or are you an angel?" He sputtered past the remnants of mud in his mouth.

The strawberry blonde blushed to the roots of her silky hair and then she brushed away some of the mud that remained on his cheek.

"I am most certainly real. What is your name, monsieur?" She responded in a mock haughty tone.

"I am Jacob," he rasped, "and who, may I ask, are you?"

"My name is Kimberly," she murmured, "I am most pleased to make your acquaintance." Jacob felt surprised to see her already pink cheeks deepened into a burning scarlet when he reached up and covered her hand with his own. A sudden clearing of the throat caused them to spring apart.

"I regret to interrupt this rather touching scene, but just where or from what hell did the two of you come? I am quite certain that neither of you were here a moment ago."

"No, Khalid, mon amour, they were not. She came with me and he, well, I do believe he was the vessel used by Cadmus. And now, his part is done. Monsieur, you are free. Xavier is no more. Your soul is no longer held ransom to the darkness." Helen smiled as she lay a gentle hand upon Kimberly's shoulder and squeezed. "This is Mademoiselle Kimberly and I never did catch your name the last time we met."

"As I just informed the lovely Mademoiselle, my name is Jacob. I do not wish to be rude, but can I get up and is there somewhere that I can wash off this muck?" He grimaced and ran his fingers through his sodden hair.

The older man chuckled and extended his hand to the bedraggled Jacob.

Helen stepped up behind Khalid and smiled. "Follow me, monsieur. We have a pump in the kitchen and a hip bath in my room. We can warm up some water and get you cleaned up."

Jacob returned her smile and started to follow her to the house, when Kimberly spoke.

"Wait a moment. What about those two?" She turned to look at Erik and Christine, who were still wrapped in a tight embrace and seemed to be quietly talking to one another.

Helen's smile became radiant. "Those two? I do believe that they have everything they need, do you not agree, Khalid?"

Khalid stepped up to Helen and snaked his arm about her waist. He nuzzled her neck for a moment, which caused Jacob and Kimberly to look away in embarrassment. Khalid chuckled and Helen soon joined him.

"Yes, I do believe that we now have all that we require. All of us."

Without another backward glance, he led Helen into the house and after a moment, Jacob and Kimberly followed them.

The End