PETAL WOUNDS - VOL II

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CHAPTER TWELVE

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             “Lily...”

I know that voice. And the silence around it is still absolute.

“Please, please, open your eyes!… Vlad, are you absolutely sure this is harmless to them?”

Who them?...  I’m in such a peaceful haze that it’s impossible to think straight. Slowly, it all comes back to me: the hospital, Peter’s panicked glare, Erik’s face, frozen in time, the two beautiful beings gliding towards me in the stillness – three, technically, if I include Peter. Although he looks the most human…

Them! Did he mean Humans?!

My eyes flash open in alarm. I know he’s there, so there’s a strange reassuring thought at the back of my mind, putting a dam to the terror.

The first thing I see is an abnormally radiant, abnormally high, abnormally huge church cupola. It’s so luminous that it hurts to stare at it. 

Wow… I feel so hazy that I wonder idly if someone’s drugged me, inducing a hallucination episode. The warmth of this place is exquisite, soothing, and the surface under me is so amazingly… silky. I run my fingers over it… Yep, I’m definitely not at the hospital.  

And judging by the unearthly look and feel of this place, I have an inkling it would take time for anyone to explain it to me. I’m a dangerous, foggy second away from screaming.

I feel a palm and long fingers very gently stroking my cheek over the bandages. The first thought that crosses my mind is a fatalistic one: I still have bandages here? Now that’s just cruel!

Then, out of the bright blue, Peter’s face finally appears. He looks troubled …and criminally beautiful. I think this is the most accurate way to describe him.

“Are you okay, you stunning, courageous girl?” he coos.

I close my eyes at the sweet chime of his voice, and again, resort to lame humor. “So, no limbo, or light at the end of the tunnel?” I tease, with an undercurrent of terrified denial. I hear no laughter. Tough crowd! They must not be familiar with techniques of reassurance, which I need very, very urgently.

I re-open my eyes and see Peter’s, filled with tender concern. I’m aware Mr. Supernatural Vlad is also there, and maybe the other silent one too, but I’m in no state to start exploring the premises and checking who else is present.

“I’ll also add ‘silly girl’ to the list,” he jabs, shaking his head. “And I’m shutting all known tunnels from this day on,” he promises with a warm smile, pouring more balm over my misty panic.

But Erik’s unnaturally still face pops back into my head, abruptly shaking all my senses to life, and opening my eyes to what’s really around me. I still see the sleek white cupola high above, and the silence is still crushing, just like it was at the hospital. 

“Peter!!!” I breathe in a rising voice, “What just happened? What did you do to my dad? Is he okay?! …And where exactly am I?!”

Despite my alarm, he keeps looking at me with a reassuring smile, and simply says, “Just… have a look around.” There’s a hint of pride in his voice, as if he were sure whatever I’ll see will impress me.

I tentatively swivel my head to the right, only to see that the cupola multiplies into an entire intricate web of majestically carved, bright white stone – too shiny to be marble. My eyebrows almost reach my hairline, and I hear an obviously satisfied chuckle. The merged cupolas seem to form a breathtakingly large circle, defined by… what are these exactly? They look like veils of white sand, suspended in perfect stillness, and serving as subtly shimmering walls. Freddie Mercury’s voice peals in my head, “Am I dreaming, Am I dreaming?”…

My eyes keep descending for what feels like an eternity, until they come across a long set of shockingly beautiful sculptures, standing equidistantly against the entire span of the walls. Carved in the same marble-like material as the ceiling, they represent more unearthly beings like Vlad and his bodyguard, but none the same as the other. They’re too far for me to see all the details, but they seem to be one breath away from springing to life. This place feels sort of like… an ethereal mausoleum.

My jaw keeps dropping lower, until it reaches an awed maximum, especially when I notice that the statues are also suspended in mid-air! They’re not still though; I can see an eerie sideway gliding, as if they were rocked slowly by an unfelt wind, and needless of solid ground. Although, the ground looks amazing: equally white and marble-like, but with absolutely no markings whatsoever. A pure milky sea.

My sight finally sets on the two magnificent creatures who helped in getting me here, standing at a close distance, as if giving Peter and me some space. And since I’m already light-years beyond my threshold of tolerance of all things supernatural, I allow myself to stare at them. Beyond their undeniable beauty, there’s definitely something not… human.   

“I’m sorry; this is Vladimir… and Nirav. And technically, this is Vlad’s…erm… home,” Peter explains.

“His home where?” I ask incredulously, “In Paris?”

Light laughter fuses from Vlad and Peter, but Nirav keeps a perfectly silent, broody composure. Great, laugh at the dead girl!

“Lily, I know this all seems surreal to you, but in time, we’ll all help you understand…”

In time?! I suddenly feel claustrophobic.

“What do you mean?! Shouldn’t you take me back to the hospital now? Cause this is really starting to creep me out…” I order, with as much strictness as I can muster, for someone bedridden and at the mercy of three mythical-looking creatures. 

Peter suddenly appears grave, and decides to use a diversion.

“Are you still in pain?”

“Yes… please, take me back?...” I plead, not even wanting to know where I am, and why exactly I was brought here.

He throws a quick glance towards the other two, then whispers, “I’m so sorry Lily… I can’t.”

And this is when I realize I’m being kept here by force.

“Why not?...” I choke pathetically, unable to hide the trembling in my voice. My throat goes dry, and tears start pooling in my eyes. Before the assault, I would have tried to stand up for myself. But that impulse is long gone now. I realize I’ve become just a pitiable wreck who caves at any threat. I hate myself…

“Lily please… No one is going to hurt you, not as long as I’m around. You have my word,” Peter swears solemnly. But to me, he’s currently the bad guy, and his words can’t stop the fear from escalating inside me. He sees it, and suddenly slouches in defeat. Hmm… interesting! I should learn how to use this effect I have on him to my advantage from now on.

“Listen… I once told you that the circle I’m from is not one I’d like you to be involved in, and for good reason. We’re… bound to secrecy, and to preserving it… True, I put it at risk when I drew you,” he admits, looking more at the other two than at me, “but you really weren’t meant to find me! I first asked Vladimir and Nirav to come along because I wasn’t sure how you’d managed that. You seemed like an immediate threat, and I couldn’t risk having you expose us…”

“What the hell are you talking about?!” I huff, “I had, HAVE no idea what ‘circle’ you’re from or what secret you’re keeping!! I’m not a threat to you, I swear! You don’t even need to reveal anything to me, and no one would ever believe me if I described this place, so… Please, please, take me back!!!”

“You told me that it was Officer Brandt who found me, and I believe you. Though the coincidence is just too great… And besides, I might have just settled for a discussion at the hospital, but something else made us bring you here…” he adds mysteriously.

Vlad finally decides to interfere, and approaches so noiselessly that he manages to startle the hell out of me.

“When did your skin start to change?” he asks imperiously, with his shockingly clear voice.

“I… I don’t know. After the assault I guess. The doctor pointed it out…” A swift panicked glance circulates between them, and I bite my tongue. Damn it… I should have kept my friggin mouth shut. But then again, why? Doctor Culbard knows absolutely nothing as to why this has happened, and neither do I! But they sure seem to know more than they’re letting on. “Why? What is happening to me? You know; I suspected it, and now I can see it in your faces. So again, Peter… what have you done to me?!”

All of a sudden, heavy sadness seems to fall on his shoulders, and he appears to surrender. He throws one more glance at Vlad and Nirav, then suddenly flicks his arm backwards, towards the sandy wall, with fingers spread wide open. In a fraction of a second, the silhouette of a face starts materializing, out of sheer sand.

“Peter!!!” Vlad scolds, furiously.

“Oh relax, she’s a smart girl. She’s already caught on to the fact that we can… do things,” Peter lashes. He suddenly looks like a rebel teen, defying authority.

Vlad and Nirav turn to me, and I roll my eyes. “If everyone could use teleportation instead of trains, the world would be a better place, so…yeah,” I say cheekily. Peter chuckles, as if trains have become our inside joke. Vlad remains impassive, although I could swear I see a fleeting smile on Nirav’s face. 

This distraction is not powerful enough though, to keep my eyes off of that specter of a face, being etched in sand. Peter turns towards it, and starts moving his fingers like a gracious air painter, sending some sort of invisible signal that adds details to the shape: more defined lips, an eerily realistic look in its eyes, a well-drawn nose…. Suddenly it becomes obvious. “That’s my father!” I almost yell.

“Yes, as I told you, I never forget a face, down to its tiniest detail. This is why I can do what I do when I’m working with the police. But it doesn’t stop there…” He adds cryptically. With one flick of the finger, he makes a dark shape appear on Erik’s left cheek, a sort of horseshoe-shaped tattoo, which my dad clearly doesn’t have. “I also add my touch to it. A touch that would be obvious enough to raise suspicion. A touch that, if I will it, actually ends up becoming one of the suspect’s features…” he says guiltily.

What?!

“So, whatever you draw… ends up on someone’s face?!” I ask, totally incredulous.

“No, not everything. Just one element, and only if I will it to… This makes them… easier to catch,” he shrugs.

“But that’s like… cheating!” I scoff. Vlad finally smiles, as if agreeing with me.

“Now please stop doodling on my walls Peter, thank you. I think she got the point,” Vlad jokes.  

Wow, I didn’t know supernatural beings could be anything other than grave and solemn.

Peter lowers his arm, and the sketch disappears into thin sand. “Cheating or not, I mean well,” he challenges.

I try to wrap my head around it, and to understand why he’s telling me all this. How does it explain things? He drew you, you idiot. Okay, but his drawing depicted my freckles really clearly, if I recall well. 

 “I don’t get it… Are you telling me that you ‘willed’ some detail on me? My freckles were in the drawing, and they’re gone in reality, so that can’t be it…”

“Lily, nothing of all this is clear to any of us. I didn’t ‘will’ anything for you, I can promise you that!” he argues, frustrated, throwing angry glares at the other two.

In a moment of clarity, everything seems to click. “But you’re not sure you didn’t cause this either, is that it? I might be some freak, unexpected damage, so you brought me here… to make sure?”

He nods, looking positively distressed. “I know you don’t believe it right now, but I truly, heartily am sorry…”

This is so unfair! I’m being held accountable for constituting a danger to a secret… race? Community? Sect? Although they have no idea what the danger really is, and they might even be responsible for it?

I just have to come up with an explanation! That’s all I can do to put them at ease. In a second of inner terror, I wonder if they’ll ever release me, even if I do find one.

“Peter, you said you knew you would ‘bind’ yourself to me that day,” I whisper, tactfully. The others suddenly look deeply surprised. “So could it be that you… unknowingly wished for something after all, while drawing me?” 

As I say those words, I feel like I’m paying myself a disproportionate compliment. Peter’s eyes suddenly get wider than I’ve ever seen them, but he remains as silent as the sculptures around us. It’s Vlad who finally drops the bomb.

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s held to secrecy, and can never really share anything with… your kind. So he wishes you could be… more like us!”

Peter closes his eyes and exhales.

 He wants me to be more like them. Like him. And if I got the idea behind his supernatural drawing skills, it takes one distinctive detail to cause it….

The Necklace.

My immensely shocked gasp catches their attention, and I utter, with dawning realization,

“I know what you are!!!”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
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My genius revelation is met with indulgent and frankly condescending smiles.

         “‘Elves’ is a good enough name your people has invented for us,” Vladimir intimates, “although we’re not too crazy about the…”

Nirav simultaneously mimes a pointy ear, and allows another short-lived smile to cross his face. For some reason, I feel this doesn’t happen very often. His gleaming olive-green eyes have this averse, dangerous side to them, so something as simple as a smile coming from him looks out of place, yet reassuring.

         “So... how much of it is true?” I whisper cautiously. “Your superpowers… teleportation, freaky drawing skills… These just don’t seem… elf-like. I mean, do you also live incredibly long, in enchanted forests, controlling our minds, and all that?...”

         “Guilty for the forest,” Peter says, very humanly raising his hand.

         “I don’t understand…” I frown.

Strangely, I’m proud of myself at that moment. I think of Erik and everything he’s taught me, about not showing weakness, about stalling with questions, about keeping the other talking, and showing interest instead of fear… For here I am, surrounded by three eerily beautiful beings out of some twisted kidnapping dream – one of whom is the ‘man’ I’ve loved so far – discussing their nature, their powers, while I unyieldingly reject the fact that this nature and those powers might soon, by some supernatural trick, become mine. I throw a discreet look at Peter and almost choke on a tear. He must think I’m really curious about him, about his world, and even flattered by how he’d like me to turn into… whatever he is. When the truth of the matter is, a truth that I will be very careful to keep to myself: he’s never given me a choice!!! And if any of my reflexes is normal, I’m inevitably bound to RUN.

           

          “Vlad, show her…” Peter asks enthusiastically.

Vladimir pauses for a few seconds then seems to surrender. He stretches his long fingers towards me, and whatever I’m lying on suddenly starts sliding forward. It’s not unpleasant… The three turn and walk towards the center of the colossal hall, while my “mattress” follows, as if frictionlessly gliding on air. Peter paces as gracefully as the other two, and my heart sinks even further: It was all an act. I liked his shyness, his teenage posture, his once obvious innocence… but that’s not who he really is.   

Vladimir’s fingers break their invisible connection with me and point up towards the cupolas. At the same second, the slight, round shape of what looks like a framed mirror appears from thin air, and slowly descends towards us, shimmering as it flips round and round on its axis. Then it comes to an abrupt stop as it reaches our level. The outside is made of what looks like faded gold, with motifs I couldn’t identify, while the inside turns out to be a thin rope of water-like liquid vertically traversing the frame. What is this?

The liquid rope gradually unfolds and spreads throughout the inside of the frame, forming a sort of molten screen.

        “Vlad is kind of our ‘historian’ if you will,” Peter explains animatedly. “He keeps a trace of everything we’ve seen, done and can remember. All we need to do is touch the Chronophora, and our memories are sieved and kept there for eternity!” His childish enthusiasm is confusing. Is the innocence there after all?... I wear an awed face, which seems to satisfy him.

On the liquid screen, an ethereal image slowly appears; one of an emaciated silhouette standing in what seems to be a blank void. I don’t recognize the individual, but he’s a younger version of them.  He lifts his arms in that graceful manner they all do, and strange elements start appearing, out of nowhere. Stone-like shapes materialize, then are superposed to form an arcade-like portico, all in a few seconds. It looks like high-speed CGI-animation, with the geometrical constituents whirling around and assembling like a hypnotizing carousel. Woah…

In a teacherly voice, Vlad offers what he believes is a very simple explanation.

       “We are like… architects of space and time. We each have a consecrated Space that we receive at birth, and we slowly fill it as we see fit. It becomes our home.  It’s not easy to create the elements, but we have a lifetime to train for it. And yes, our lifespan is considerably superior to yours… As for building, it is a common ability, but we also have a talent that is proper to each and every one of us. You’ve seen what Peter can do. That is his own, exclusive skill. And I am responsible for that little temporal stand-still you witnessed in your world. Whereas teleportation, as you call it, is Nirav’s specialty.” The silent Nirav nods once, looking grave again. “We just laid our hands on you so as to connect the group, while he transported us to this Space. Mine.”

I swallow hard. Interest, not fear. Interest…

         “So you… basically hitched a lift through me. Huh… And where is your… Space? Is it… on Earth?” I ask, feeling dumb.

         “Well, don’t think of our Spaces being on Earth, but of Earth being in our Spaces,” he throws matter-of-factly.

          “…I’m not sure I understand. Earth is… here?”

          “Not in my Space, no. It’s in someone else’s. It’s his… how can I say this in human terms? It’s his… Garden.”

Peter rolls his eyes at the apparently improper translation, and I let out an uncontrollable giggle. A Garden?!

           "And we Humans are… plants?” I drip with sarcasm. Explains why I was named after a flower.   

           “Oh, no, no,” Peter quickly interferes, “We have the utmost respect for Earth! We even used to visit as ourselves a few centuries ago, and share a lot of our knowledge, languages, and architecture… but that didn’t turn out so well. That’s also when the legends began, with Elves and Nymphs and all that… Since then, only one ambassador is allowed there at once – in this case, me. With Nirav’s teleporting help, I’m the only one who can occasionally go there, with the strict orders of anonymity and non-interference…” 

            “But you were all there to get me…”

            “Yes, this was… an extreme situation” he says uncomfortably.

            “And you do interfere!” I object, “You help in finding suspects, which, don’t get me wrong, is noble. But isn’t that interfering?”

            Vlad decides to cut in, not missing an occasion to poke at Peter.

            “Yes, our friend here has grown… attached to the Humans,” he says with suddenly piercing eyes, “especially now. This is a new peak for him… He’s not allowed to, of course, but he does it anyway.”

           

            Peter’s eyes zero in on me, like that first time outside the train window, with a look that shows absolutely no regret. 

            “So, you each have a Space of your own…” I say, changing the subject, “and you need Nirav’s help every time you go from one to the other?”

            “No, we only need him to go to the Gardens.” …There are others?! “But to travel from one Space to the other, we… politely ask permission from the landlord in question,” Vlad winks. 

            I take a very deep breath. This is too much information at once, and I don’t believe any of it. My brain feels like a pan of scrambled eggs, and Peter seems to notice that.

            “Maybe we should address the other major issue…” he suggests tentatively. “Whether or not Lily is going through… a metamorphosis, we have no way of knowing for sure, or of stopping it for that matter…”

            “Why not?!” I ask with the seams of my self-control starting to break. “It’s your supernatural ‘ability’!!! How can you know it so little?... How do you normally undo that detail you add to your drawings?!” My voice is bordering on impolite-loud.

            “It depends on the detail!” Peter argues, with a voice barely lower than mine. I don’t know if it’s my tone angering him more, or his own guilt in this matter. “If I add a tattoo, then it’s relatively permanent. But if I draw a rash, then it’s eventually bound to disappear. You know, like a rash! And even though you don’t believe me, I swear, by everything that’s dear to me, that whatever I might have done to you, it was not intentional! It was only… wishful thinking,” he confesses, with his tone falling towards the end. “If nothing was supposed to happen to you in the first place, how am I supposed to know how to stop it?”

            I reach for straws, “Any cross-dimensional doctors around here by any chance?”

            “Absolutely not,” Vlad interjects, sounding positively offended. “Sickness is part of life. We don’t study it, we don’t change it. We just experience it as part of our existence. Nirav doesn’t have the gift of speaking, and yet he lives with it, it’s who he is!” Throughout the speech, Nirav remains neutral, although a very quick look my way clearly shows some unnamed emotion… But Vlad continues with his moralizing, unaware. “Your so-called Garden scientists are constantly a few steps away from playing Creators, it’s abject!” he sneers. 

Woah, where did all that come from?

            “This is going nowhere,” Peter huffs, with his arms crossed against his chest and his teeth clenched.

            In the meantime, I see slight movement to my right, and turn just in time to see Nirav walk up to me with a determined frown, and lay his fingers on the cast around my arm. The others barely have the time to register this fact before a neat, chilling ‘crack’ is heard, and I scream from the searing pain. 

            With what looked like the slight pressure of three fingers, Nirav has split the cast in two.

            “Are you crazy?!” Peter screams, and once more, his shoulders seem to change shape for what feels like a second, making him look much more like the other two. With a light tap on the shoulder, Vladimir holds him back.

            “Wait, he’s right! If she is indeed morphing, those white moulds would shape her wrong! The wise thing would be to take them all off and let the change take its course, studying it closely in the process…”

            “Don’t you sound like a Garden scientist!” I lash at him. 

            Peter observes me for a few seconds, before surprisingly choosing to give me the ultimate say, for once. 

           “Lily, does this make sense to you? We won’t do it unless you agree,” he declares very decisively, as if holding the others in check.

            This is so surreal! In a world that literally rejects medicine, I’m being asked if I’d prefer to “develop wrong” because of the casts, or to have them taken off at the risk of putting a stop to my entire recovery… I finally decide to choose the lesser of two evils.

           

            “I don’t want to be the weird-looking Elf any more than I was the weird-looking human,” I decide, despite my fear of all the pain I’ll be experiencing in consequence. Besides, I’d do anything to be out of the casts and bandages right now…

            “Okay then, if you’re sure…” Peter says. “Would you rather I did it?”

           

            I nod insecurely, and look towards Nirav. I’m startled by the deeply remorseful look he offers me, as if hurting me had never been his intention. But I’m comforted all the same when I see him give up his place for Peter. 

           

            I then sense the three pairs of eyes ogling at me, which considerably adds to the pressure. Are they going to just stare at me while I scream? And most of all, am I really doing this?!

            Peter’s face relaxes as he seems to notice my mood. “Er… Vlad, you think we could have a brooding bubble for her? It’s after all the same process…”

            “A what now?” I ask. Peter leans closer and very lightly lays his fingers on my cheek, taking me by jolting surprise. Tingles, tingles all over.

           

            “Don’t worry, it’s just like an incubator. We use it for our babies here, and honestly, this is sort of the same thing, isn’t it?”

            I nod, hopelessly distracted by his fingers continuously brushing against my sore skin. He looks back at Vlad, who raises his arms and elegantly produces what looks like a giant, glimmering, whipped-cream peak, encircling Peter and me in. 

           …Did they just give us some privacy?!

            The temperature rises noticeably, and a sort of light, perfumed air seems to circulate inside the bubble.

           
             God help me… 

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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              “Is it warm enough?” he asks, very conveniently.

“M-hm…” I swallow. “How do you do that? With the heat and the…smell. There’s nothing in here! It just looks like a shimmering white shell.”

“All in the power of will… which seems to be one of your greatest qualities, by the way. I have a feeling you’ll fit right in, Lily Brandt…” he says with hardly concealed warmth.

He seems…happy. Happy that his freak gift unintentionally makes it okay for him to have feelings for me. And every fiber of my body, human or not, wishes for him to remain so. I need to get out of here! Because soon enough, I will no longer have the strength to resist him.

His fingers leave my cheek and find the end of the bandage around my head. Then, very delicately, he starts to unravel it. Bit by bit, my skull feels lighter and my face starts getting used to no longer having a frame. Towards the end, Peter gently holds my head up, and slips the folded bandages right underneath.

“You still have a wound at the back… But if this goes well, it will heal along with the transformation… Oh and I was right. The swelling is decreasing, and your features have undeniably changed. You’ll see…”

He then moves to my arm, picking out the broken pieces of the cast, then very slowly lays my elbow back down in the same position. Besides the tingles, it’s as if he’s not touching me at all. This is torture. Supernatural torture.

Finally, he starts untying the splint immobilizing my hip and leg, before ending with all the minor bandages left. I wince a few times, but I also notice that distraction is not such a bad painkiller.

When he’s done with me, I feel lighter, and honestly, very much exposed. My wounds look shockingly gory, and I wonder how Peter managed not to make a face while uncovering them.

“There… You didn’t make a sound. Did I hurt you?” he asks, with anxious, earnest eyes.

“I’ll… I’ll be okay… Peter, do you think this was the right thing to do?”

He puckers his eyebrows and reflects on it for a moment, then delicately sits next to me on the mattress.

“Under the circumstances, yes… I think so. All we need to do now is keep you perfectly still… and just see how your state evolves.”

“And what if it does?... You’ll ask Vlad if you can ‘keep me’?” I ask cheekily. But he only looks mildly amused.

“He might not have given you the best impression, but he’s my closest friend. You know, he risked his own neck by going there with me. I have authorization, he doesn’t. So… please make sure you never mention that, if you ever meet the others…”

“The ‘others’…How many are there exactly?” My throat feels dry all of a sudden.

“Well, if Earth is just a ‘garden’, then…” he kids, but quickly notices how unreassuring his answer is. “Don’t worry about that for now, though. I’m sure you understand why we’d rather… keep you secret for the time being. Lily… no one can know!” he pleads, his eyes boring into mine. His words are so intense they freak me out.

“I won’t tell! I swear! But do you realize what you’re asking of me? If someone comes, it’s not like I can get up and run! Besides, where would I hide? I’m in very, very foreign territory!...” I ramble on, as his features quickly soften.

“The brooding bubble will keep you hidden for now; we’ll take turns in guarding it… And as soon as you’re better, I’ll tell you everything you want to know…”

“Why not start now?... You filled my brain with nothing but bits and pieces of information today, and they all felt like the tips of several icebergs at once… Is Earth really a ‘Garden’ to you? And why would you need Nirav to get there, but not to travel to the other Spaces?... What are we talking about here? Alternate dimensions? Space portals? Black holes?...”

Now that I’ve got him here, he’s telling me everything I want to know. Be careful though, too many questions might raise suspicion…

“Energy. The keyword is Energy… To put it simply, imagine that our Spaces are like… FM radio waves. We know those waves well, and we can read them precisely enough to harness them. Whereas Earth, and all the other elements like it, are on AM. We know of their existence, but only Nirav is attuned to them, so only he can…leap from one wave to the other. We wouldn’t know how…”

“But… what about the creators of these “Gardens”? How did they get there?”

“With Nirav’s skills as well. There were others with slightly similar gifts that also helped, but he’s by far the best at it…” As he says those words, a quick but sinister frown digs a passing crease between his eyebrows. I sense a story there…

“What’s wrong?”I venture.

“Nothing… I’m just… worried you’ll want to run for the hills if this gets too much, when there aren’t many hills around to run to,” he winks, with strained supernatural humor. “Just… can you please promise me to keep an open mind? I have so much to show you!... I know, I’m asking way too much.” Oh, you think?! “Forgive me… Let’s not think about that for now. Just know that I’m here, and you won’t have to face anything alone; starting with what you’re currently going through…” he vows.

“Yeah, about that… Are you… stuck in here with me? This place doesn’t seem to have a door!”I say, working my flirty-shy approach. What is wrong with me?

He smiles and seems to wickedly appreciate the idea, then leisurely lowers his eyes to my lips.

“A small confession… I’m glad these haven’t changed,” he whispers, raising his thumb to the corner of my mouth. I swallow hard. Torture, torture, torture. “I wonder how it feels…”

His words remain suspended in the hot air, and very carefully, making sure he doesn’t touch any injured part of my body, he leans down, and softly lays his warm lips over mine.

My heart threatens to beat its way out of my chest, as a million contradicting thoughts and emotions take over. I feel him exhale, as if letting go, and his lips start to stroke and melt into mine, in a slow, heartbreakingly sensual cadence. Don’t give in Lily… focus on how sore you skin feels, and hold on to that…

Oh who am I kidding. Kiss him, kiss him!

He stops very briefly, keeping his eyes closed and his forehead against mine, then whispers, “You may not see it now, and I can grasp how scared you are… but there is one constant that I will prove to you, no matter what; a constant you’ll need to bear in mind if ever things get rough... : I love you. I love you.”

He kisses me again, and this time, I so give in. It’s such sweet torture that I oscillate between bliss and tears.

I know I’m out of my haze when I feel his lips slowly detaching themselves from mine, and the perfumed air filling the unwanted space between us. His forehead lingers on mine, and he takes a few moments to control his breathing and open his eyes. He then sits up and looks at me with a tender gleam in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to expect an answer. Instead, he gives my cheek a last stroke before lithely standing up.

“This place doesn’t need a door”, he says playfully, as his raised fingers wave towards one end of the incubator. A slit opens in the façade, as if the whole thing were made of silk! “Sleep… We’ve given you too much to take on for one day. I’ll be checking on you every once in a while. In the meantime, if you need anything, please just say my name…”

I give him a dazed, tentative smile. A smile that reluctantly disappears as soon as he steps out of the bubble.

I have to sober up, to think straight. He’s just said he loves me, and all I could think of is how to get away from here…

They believe I’m turning into one of them, because of Peter’s drawing. And they have never seen this happen before.

I, however, have a different theory.

Peter didn’t exactly draw me as ‘one of them’. He specifically drew me as Leetah. And for some strange reason, it has evaded them that maybe, just maybe, I could be turning more particularly into her.

And from what I know of her abilities, I might turn out to have more control over this, than they could possibly expect…

-----------------------------------

“I’m sorry, did I startle you? I thought I heard…”

Peter enters the bubble once again. Third time in the last few hours, and third distraction from my… experiment.

“No, I’m okay. Must be sleep-talking. Too much on my mind I guess…” I smile cautiously.

“You’re sweating!… I’m sorry, I’ll ask Vlad to reduce the heat level,” he promises, while very invasively staring at every inch of my limbs and face, for a sign of change. “Your complexion… it’s getting very faintly darker. You can’t see it yet, but it’s clear to me… This is really happening!” he says with evident wonder.

I nod, trying to look somehow unafraid, as he kisses my palm, steals my breath with a smile, and leaves.

Panic rises to the surface and makes my lower lip tremble. ‘This is really happening!’ I’m losing myself, bit by bit… My experiment has to work!!!

For the past hours, I’ve been remembering everything I’ve read about her. ‘Leetah – Elfquest. Healer and gatherer.’

Healer. How could Peter miss this?!

In the books, she would spread her fingers wide over a wounded body, just like Peter does for drawing, and then she would concentrate intensely, and… her energy would cure the hurt Elf. I know, it’s just a comic!... That’s what the little voice in my head has been telling me all along. But with everything I’ve seen today, nothing should seem impossible anymore…

And yet, every time I spread my hand over one of my wounds, and concentrate hard enough to break a sweat, I end up feeling deeply stupid.

I’m no supernatural creature!!! I’m just Ginger from Paris, with the dysfunctional family, the pathological forgetfulness of keys, and the now obvious cataclysmically bad taste in men…

A faint noise makes me jump, and I loosen my silly healer’s pose just in time to see Nirav’s dark, imposing silhouette entering the silk meringue. He stands at the slit-shaped entrance, politely nodding, as if asking for the permission to enter. For once, I allow myself to stare at him. He’s clad in a thigh-length dark-reddish coat, and dark pants I can barely make out, both of textile I’ve never, ever seen before. Man, he’s tall! Probably taller than Vlad, and definitely tanner. He’s got this fierce gaze that makes me want to look down. I nod back, and he relaxes as he advances towards me.

What is he doing here?

He stops a tactful few inches away, and points towards my arm. I think he’s about to play some other Elf-trick, but nothing happens. It takes me a second to realize that he’s actually asking if my arm, the one whose cast he fractured, still hurts.

“Oh! No… it’s better now,” I reassure him, puzzled by why he would even care.

He looks away, as if he doesn’t really know what to do with himself, then turns back to me with a very subtle start of a smile. He nimbly pulls an object from his pocket, while stealthily looking over his shoulder, towards the entrance.

Once he’s sure we’re alone, he holds out his hand and slowly opens his fingers to reveal… yellow hard candy?!

I gape at him for a second, confused. He lifts his chin and advances his hand, as if urging me to take it.

I reach out, undecidedly, and grasp the small pastille. The brand is carved in the sugar; I know it well. Oda even brought some of it for hospital guests! …A small souvenir from the Garden?

He nods again, curtly, and twists around to leave, as if not wanting to stare at me while I eat it.

“Um… thank you!” I mumble.

He gives me a polite, profile smile and steps out.

How incredibly strange!!!...

Somehow, his nice initiative has tripled my resolve.

One day, I will need him.

             A deep glare of determination etches itself on my face, and with one last excruciating surge, I concentrate my entire being on the open fracture wound on my arm.

             And then…

I suddenly sense a deep, deep, disturbing shiver, coming from my very insides, and nausea…Staggering nausea… I muffle a strained moan, and have the swift reflex of looking at the wound, as it feels like it’s been set on fire.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

________________________________________________________________________________________________

           

           This must be some kind of otherworldy hallucination…
 

Either that, or the last few events in my life have never taken place, because I’m pretty sure I’m currently standing in my room! I’m standing. No fractures, no gashes. As if the whole thing’s never happened.

All around me is personal stuff I’ve been hoarding for years, old records, and Parisian dust. Yep, this is my room alright. And man am I happy to see it!!! I feel a lump in my throat as my brain tries to figure out how the hell I got here, and if I should trust this to be reality. It all looks, feels, and smells eerily familiar, although… there’s a light scent of smoke in the air. My eyes quickly scan the place, and I swiftly take a step back as I see my bed abruptly burst into flame. After a second of frozen panic, I run towards the door, and violently try to twist the knob and bang at it, but it feels more like stone than wood. This can’t be real… 

Like dry leaves, the records start catching fire, one by one, in a domino effect, rushing all the way to the curtains. Fuck!!!

 

“GINNY!!!” I bang again, and again, to no avail. 

And then, like an incandescent, deadly Egyptian cobra, a flame slithers up my entire arm, without a sound. I shriek from the pain, and…

My eyes open to a more recently familiar setting: airy, white, whipped-cream-shaped silk. 

Soaked in sweat, I quickly check my arm, and my eyes ball out. Are these… burns?! The entire limb is riddled with sores, so much so that they’ve covered the initial wound…

No, wait…

Where is that wound?! I squint.

Naw… No way.

I try to move my arm, which should be impossible, with this kind of fracture…

Motherf…!   

I DID IT!!!! 

I may have given myself a dozen burns instead, but I actually healed an open fracture!! I might even have fainted from the pain at one point – I shudder at the thought of rising flames – but I actually DID IT!!!

Not sure it should be done on oneself though… The energy it takes to make it work and the excruciating pain that comes with the process, are enough to wear anyone out. 

Peter was right… Energy. The keyword is Energy.

But no time for musing right now. Someone could come in at any moment, and I need to get this done. On all the wounds. Tonight.

Come to think of it, is it even night time? Does that exist over here?...Well, the only way I could check is by standing on my own two feet. 

The face and eyes will be the trickiest; I’m not sure I’d like to end up with burn scar tissue all over. I’d probably become the first Elf in History with a skin condition. Great. 

            

 Okay, hipbone, it’s just you and me now…

                                                          

                                                           ------------------------------------

            I don’t know how long I’ve been at this, but it felt like hours. And I was so lucky – and quiet – that Peter didn’t march in to check on me for the millionth time.

            I’m so sore it feels like I’ve been dragged across boiling asphalt for days… I had another couple of blackouts, all leading to the same, blazing dream. And the wound at the back of my head took over fifteen tries to heal. I was too terrified of giving myself a brain injury… Hey, not like I know what I’m doing here! But the rush is indescribable. I’m in a whirlwind of sweat, fear, throbbing, concentration, tears, and abrupt incredulous chuckles. If this weren’t so horrible, it would be cool.    

What is not cool, however, is the only remaining wound: my swollen, inflamed face. How the hell will I go about this, when the simple idea of going near my eyes freaks me out? And what if I just mess it up and… maim myself? Thoughts like ruining my entire genetic legacy fleetingly cross my mind. The prospect of losing every trace of Erik and Oda in me, is distressing. I close my eyes and decide to take a few minutes. I’m just so… overwhelmed. You can do this! No one can help you here but yourself. Do it!

As I open my lids, I gasp loudly then bite my lip.

Sshh! If they hear you, you’re screwed!

But the surprise is too big to repress: A few inches from my forehead, a small speck of light floats soundlessly, a little like a firefly. It’s tiny and only bright enough to catch my attention. I watch it drift there, straight above me, with slight, weightless motion, just like the statues outside.

However I’m too dog-tired to be wary, and it looks so… reassuring that I decide to go for the next sentimental interpretation: whatever it is, it’s here to give me hope. I really can do this!

I clench my teeth, and direct my palm and wide open fingers at my face. Here goes nothing…

A few minutes later, I decide to stop. Just as with the other wounds, the burning effect started off very intensely, then faded proportionally to the healing. I try grazing my eyelids, very delicately, and can already feel the blisters forming. But the swelling has gone down considerably… Good. I gaze at the little luminous speck, and feel tempted to thank it, when exhaustion suddenly engulfs me, and I drift into a heavy, dreamless sleep…

     

                                               ---------------------------------------

I awaken with a start. How long was I out? Not being able to tell the time here is very frustrating. But the good thing is I’m still alone. If anyone had come in, they would have been too intrigued by the burns to leave me to my dreams…

And the small light is still there, hovering at exactly the same distance from my forehead. It looks like… it wants something.

Sorry mate, I don’t speak Elf-light.

Carefully, I test my own limbs. The left arm is still functional. I shake my head in wonder. Did I really do this?!... It feels a little rusty, but besides that, no pain. I lift it to inspect the sores, and I get a gobsmacking impression of déjà-vu: just like my former freckles, the blisters are nowhere to be seen!!! 

So that’s how it works? Healing with excruciating fire, getting drained of all possible energy, leaving sores, sleeping it off, then… voila?

My skin is a limpid tone of olive, just like Peter said, and very much like the others’. Have I really morphed into… something else? I don’t think I’ll ever wrap my head around that.

I slowly turn my glance towards the entrance of the cocoon, and to my surprise, the luminous dot follows my head’s trajectory, while keeping the same distance. I tentatively lift a finger towards it, only to notice that it magnetically catches on to my finger’s trail, and starts hovering over it. How strange!

I gather my strengths and try sitting up. It feels like I haven’t done that for ages! I get a little dizzy after the initial thrust, but it’s nothing serious. Then, like I used to do at the pool, I let my toe touch the milky ground, very softly… It feels like… it’s very subtly vibrating! I screw my eyes up, and notice that, for some reason, my toe isn’t quite touching the ground, no matter how hard I try.

I put down the entire sole… The vibration is more and more distinct. It’s almost tickling, but not unpleasant. Second sole. Hmm… the temperature is just right. Or maybe it’s because my feet aren’t really touching the ground?… Oh what do I know!

Here we go… I stand up, feeling like a trembling newborn fawn.

Yes!!! I’m finally vertical again! I swear, my butt was starting to go flat on that thing…

Lifting my head, I’m yet again faced with the light dot. What am I to do with you?

I form a cup with the palm of my hand, and raise it up. As expected, the thing catches the new magnetic field, and follows it, while keeping a safe distance. I then try to close my fingers around it, making sure I leave enough room in there for it to float… It doesn’t burn at all.

Looking down, I inspect my hospital gown. Ew. Those things are just awful. I just hope nothing is… hanging out at the back!

Nevermind that now; I need to get out of here… 

I turn towards the almost invisible exit, and start with baby steps… God it's so good to be walking again! The vibration underneath is a bit unsettling, and the idea of not actually being in direct contact with the ground makes me unconsciously feel like tripping. This will need getting used to…

 A few more steps and I’m there, staring at this eerily beautiful silk-like lining. I reach out for it, but instead of letting me touch it, it slides open, like a forming guard of honour.  

Woah… the mausoleum-like hall appears in all its oval-shaped splendor. It’s so void, yet breathtaking in its vacuity. There’s this sense of awe that one gets in old cathedrals. The convoluted web of shimmering cupolas up above is nothing if not a confirmation of that. A quick estimate of how high it is would be the Montparnasse Tower, if not higher. And yet, its only bases are walls of thin, glowing sand which seems to ripple like oily waves, now that I look at it.

As for the majestic statues, they’re all clad in much more elegant clothes than Vladimir and Nirav’s, and have a sort of intricate laurel-branch-like crown. I wonder why I couldn’t see this before…

I take a deep breath, and step out of the bubble.

A loud huff abruptly stops me in my tracks. A few meters to my right stand the only three people I know in this new universe; three individuals who are now eyeing me like they’ve just seen a ghost.

The first one to move is Nirav. He lithely puts his hands behind his back, lowers his head, and freezes in that position. Vlad, whose mandible is almost touching the ground, throws very quick glances his way, though he can’t help but stare back at me every time.

Peter, however, gives me a look that sends my heart racing through my system.   

It’s hard to describe. There’s a side of “I knew it” in that gaze, mixed with intense wonder, evident pride, and… some scorching emotion I can’t identify, but that still manages to turn my insides into goo. He’s like a young version of Christopher Plummer in The Sound Of Music, when he stares at Julie Andrews with this intimidating yet gloriously loving look, while indulging in a small budding smile. A shiver swiftly slinks down my spine. 

“… How?” Vladimir whispers, barely containing his amazement.

“Must be the brooding-bubble,” I offer the excuse I’d been mulling over in the last hours. “The transformation must have really kicked in, because I no longer feel any pain. Is that normal?” I ask, while internally doing the I-own-you dance.

“Well…erm… we have no history of…” Vlad mumbles, then seems to prefer staring to speaking.  

I discreetly exhale. That’s what I’d been betting on all along: their lack of information in such matters as morphing humans and their potential healing powers. Yes, maybe I CAN do this…

Peter’s awestruck stare turns progressively into a sly, amused smirk, as he slowly kneels and puts his palm against the quivering ground. Gradually, the vibration under my feet seems to increase. I look intently at the bright floor, and see a sort of beautiful, creamy, undulating motion advancing my way, fast. I raise an eyebrow at Peter. What is he playing at?

Suddenly my entire balance is off.

Oh so it’s a test then!

Okay, Alberic, it’s ON!

When the small waves reach me, I try to keep my balance by bending with the motion, like I’m so used to doing in the metro. But a fraction of a second later, it’s no longer enough.

I’m NOT giving them the satisfaction of laughing at me!

I spread my arms out, making sure my fist stays closed around my little glowing friend, and start oscillating, ridiculously, in a desperate attempt to remain standing. I hear no laughter yet, so I’m able to stay calm.

The undulation keeps getting stronger though, and I know I’ll have to come up with something else quickly.

It’s amazing how Peter can just wield the earth like that… It’s like the vibration rebounds against his hand and ripples all the way out to me. But if that’s true, then maybe… I close my eyes and try to really sense the tremors under my soles. I sort of feel like the luminous speck now, in its inherent skill to just… ride the energy wave. Maybe all I have to do is…not resist. I lower my arms, and feel increasingly… lighter. I open my eyes and see Peter’s grin spread from ear to ear, as the other two just look baffled beyond their wit. 

Glancing down at my feet, I realize that the waves are still there but I’m just…hovering over them, as if magnetically attracted yet kept at bay, both at the same time. And it feels AWESOME.

I wonder if I can provoke that too! I bow down and, with my free hand, carefully touch the ground, using only one wary finger. It tickles, but I can fully sense it: there’s some sort of power there, in constant yet subtle movement. I slightly push down, only to hear a rustle of thuds and laughter. 

I look up, and see all three Elves on the ground!

“And this is what she can do with only one finger!” Peter gloats to the others, while locking eyes with me.  

He gets up and advances towards me, making me nervous all of a sudden. Will I be able to lie to him too?

As he gets closer, he spontaneously reaches out for my closed hand. Should I reveal the light speck to him, and to everyone? Either way, I have no choice. They’re the only ones who could tell me what it is.

I put my hand out, and delicately open my fingers. The small firefly happily bobs out, then steadies itself right above my palm.

Without warning, Peter jumps back, and turns towards a terrified-looking Vlad, as Nirav lets the scariest of frowns etch itself on his panicked face.

“What?... WHAT?!” I demand.

Peter turns back to me, with a furiously clenched jaw.

“They know… They all know!!!” 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

________________________________________________________________________________________________

            “It’s called a Lume. It’s our main means of communication between Spaces. And you just got one, personally addressed to you. Do you realize what that means?” Peter explains with patience as distended as a heavy water balloon.

            Three pairs of eyes ogle at me as I try not to let my blushing reflexes kick in. What have I done to cause this? My mind quickly goes over everything I’ve said, seen and touched since I got here, and I pathetically worry about having broken one of the local codes – codes that I have no knowledge of whatsoever. This is bull! I haven’t done anything!

            “Yes. It means someone knows I’m here. But if you’re insinuating, in any way, that I…” I choke.

           

            “Okay, let’s go about it differently. Vlad, Nirav, has any one of you sent a Lume before or after our trip?”

            The two Elves shake their heads adamantly, and all eyes veer back to me.

            “This is just… beyond ridiculous! Who could I possibly have spoken to?!” No blushing yet. This new skin seems much less revealing, which makes for a good change.

            “Not ‘spoken to’, but connected with on some level,” Vladimir interferes, sounding diminished relatively to an obviously furious Peter. “Have you dreamt or thought of anyone that didn’t look familiar to you?”

            “Huh?... You guys ever heard of Freud?” I throw, with aligned eyebrows. Okay, maybe it’s a bad time for fresh jokes, but I’m just trying to keep up with the absurdity of it all.

           

            “Lily, please!” Peter says, huffing and pressing the heel of this hand against his forehead. Hello drama queen!

           

            “First, NO, I haven’t. And second, if you could ‘connect’ like that, why need Lumes?” I ask with genuine curiosity.

           

            “Erm… we can’t. But since we each have a particular skill, we’re still waiting for yours to manifest…” Vlad admits. 

Well, they can wait. 

 

            “And in the meantime, it sounds like you’re reaching. You know I can’t possibly have provoked this! You know it,” I insist, throwing a pleading glance at Peter. He looks me straight in the eye, which seems to be the habit with him whenever he needs to know what’s going through my mind.

           

            “Lily,” he says in a slow whisper, “soon you will get the hang of this world, and you will start recognizing the sender through the aspect and sound of a Lume. And this one, white, clear, and perfect in its silence, is very distinctive…”

            “It’s from Danielle,” Vlad states gravely, as if that says it all.

            “Danielle?” 

            “In human terms, she’s our regent. Our queen, if you will,” Peter utters distractedly, as if already thinking of an escape strategy.

            Wow… I have a message from the Elven Queen herself!... To my name… And I really don’t know what to make of that, or how scared I should be right now.

No one can know! he’d said, perhaps to avoid the news getting to her, ultimately. And if it has, then she knows about me: a Human, out here, that seems to be undergoing some radical “changes”, harbored by three subjects that really should not meddle with the Affairs of the Garden. In other words, if I’m in trouble, then so are they. All three of them. 

Hm… I now see exactly how screwed we are.  

“Wait… we haven’t even read to the message yet! This could all be a… coincidence or something,” I try, feebly.

The three look so grim that I start to seriously feel the fear, deep in my gut. The first to straighten his shoulders is Peter, who seems to have come up with a plan.

“Lily and I will face her alone. And whatever happens, I’ll take all the blame. You guys never went there with me, and Nirav, I basically threatened you into teleporting me. Is that clear?”

What?! No! Him taking the fall does not sound like a solution!

With a perfectly neutral face, Vlad and Nirav lift up their right hand, bending down their index and middle finger, like we humans would to mime quotation marks.

“Is that a solemn vow gesture?” I ask.

“Um… no. They just flipped me off,” Peter states bleakly, as the others fight off a smile. “So that’s a no then...” He lets out a heavy sigh, then grabs my hand and raises it up to the Lume, still floating carelessly near my temple. “There are two ways of reading this. If you want to listen to it privately, you’ll need to direct it gently towards your ear, and then usher it in.”

“Ew.”

“Focus, please… If you want others to hear it too, you’ll need to make it come to you, and then press it against your forehead, like that.” 

He mimes encircling the speck with his palm, but the second he does that, the strangest reaction occurs. The Lume starts shivering uncontrollably, and suddenly seems to let go of my magnetic field for Peter’s.  Its entire gravitational powers just change focus, and it starts following his movements.

“What the…?!” he frowns.

It takes a few seconds for it to click in my head.

“Wait, that’s great! It could mean it was sent to you instead of me, couldn’t it?” I speculate, finally feeling a modicum of relief.

“No… I don’t believe so. A Lume is intended for the one it reaches first… but it could simply mean that some of my Energy has gone on to you!...” Peter reveals with the shadow of a proud smile, before locking eyes with me in one of those heart-stopping, meaningful gazes. 

He then seems to pull himself together, though I can still see his weakly concealed delight. How can he look so thrilled when the thought alone makes my hairs stand on end? If my energy was passed on from him, wouldn’t that make him my… genitor of some sorts?!... That’s just twisted on so many levels! Erik and Oda did that job well, and I would under no circumstance perceive Peter as a father figure! 

            “Here…” he whispers cluelessly, as he guides the Lume back to me. In a fraction of a second, the same quivering reaction takes place, and the light dot is back to its former orbit. 

“So… will it be private or shared?” he pushes.

I choose forehead. Besides, if it’s not addressed to me after all, everyone present would witness it first hand. So, as I shove the speck against my forehead, Peter warns, “Now, this might be a bit intense the first time…”

ARGH!!! Ow ow! My brain whistles sharply like an earsplitting Larsen effect, as the Lume disappears completely; and in a swift second, a loud, hollow voice fills my entire being. 

The language is completely unknown to me, but it sounds so airy and elegant that I hold my breath and listen, absorbedly. The message ends after a few seconds, and I quickly look to Peter for a translation, with ears still ringing like the Angelus bell. 

“It says, ‘I am Danielle. Whoever you are, and whoever your maker, you are both expected very shortly. I look forward to knowing you’.” 

A very heavy silence falls, none daring or knowing how to react. 

My first thought is: she doesn’t know exactly who I am… which might be good news, right?

But did she really say “maker”?! This is an absolute nightmare!!!

On the other hand, the invitation did not sound hostile… Then again, how would I know?... The look on everyone’s face is as reassuring as a looming thunderstorm. 

I try to break the graveyard quiet with more annoyingly inquisitive questions. “Erm… how come you guys speak our language so well, when you have your own?”

“We’ve actually created your languages. Or at least the root ones,” Vlad explains, not resisting the history trivia. “Aber wir können Deutsch sprechen, wenn Sie möchten. Cela ne nous pose aucun problème en fait.” [1] 

Wow. He so would’ve gotten his butt kicked in school. 

 

---

[1]  « But we can speak German if you like. (German) It’s no problem at all actually. (French) »

“Oh… That figures. English is good, thanks…” I then warily turn to a furrowed-browed Peter, “So… This all seems inevitable, doesn’t it? I have to go see her… She will then notice I’m some weird hybrid and terminate me, and then no harm would be done to the general equilibrium. A very straightforward, basic prospect…” I ramble on, noticing that deep inside, I still haven’t comprehended or believed any of this, and that my brain is still waiting for me to wake up eventually, and find myself in that hospital bed. The pain felt real. This doesn’t. Not in the least, especially now that I’m kindly invited to my own potential execution. 
   

“Hey, no, don’t say that!” Peter objects, then throws an awkward look at the others, as if pleading for something. Vlad nods, and they both turn around and slowly walk away, as if giving us some privacy. While carefully keeping an eye on them, Peter puts his hand out sideways, for me to take. I’m thrilled, although it oddly feels like he’s about to do something he shouldn’t.

I lightly touch his fingers, only to feel them grab on to my hand, and fiercely twirl me around until my face slams against his chest, then his arms enfold me as fiercely, and lift me off the ground. I’m suddenly like a little girl, carried as if I weighed nothing at all. He buries his nose in my hair, although I can feel that he hasn’t lost sight of the others for a second. My heart embarrassingly pounds against his torso, and I can’t seem to de-goggle my eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck, not daring to jinx any of this by asking questions.

He whispers very lightly and almost too fast for me to grasp everything, “If you knew just how heartbreakingly beautiful you are right now, and what a radiant being you’ve turned into, you would understand what I’m about to say: Nothing will happen to you. Nothing. One look at you and everyone will know your reason for existing. And if they don’t, I’ll be there to show them…”

And just as brusquely as it started, the hug is broken with an almost violent yank. Peters puts me down exactly where I was before, and draws his arms so quickly it’s hurtful. I simultaneously notice that the other two have stopped and turned around at nearly the same second. I narrow my eyes at Peter. 

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to comprehend that for some very serious reason, he and I are not supposed to be seen having any physical contact.  But… why not?!    

Peter nods once, all business-like, and the two walk back towards us, carrying a curious-looking, oval-shaped device. Its bright golden surface is mesmerizing, but not as much as its mind-boggling intricacy, which reveals itself with every step closer. 

“It’s a Pathavane,” Vlad answers my unasked question. “We use it to clear a specific itinerary, and we’re going to need that–” 

“No, you aren’t, because you’re not going!” Peter commands, but no one gives his tantrum much importance.

“As I was saying,” Vladimir resumes with almost Rickman-like phlegm, “this will help us get clearance for the Spaces we can cross to get to Danielle’s, based on what is currently going on in each, and how… ‘welcome’ we might be there,” he winks. 

“But… can’t Nirav teleport us directly?” I ask, peeping apologetically at the tall Elf.

“No, it’s not the same thing,” Peter interferes. “He only does, erm… FM to AM jumps,” he explains as if to a five year-old, while the other two raise a quizzical eyebrow.

I choose to ignore the patronizing, and swerve my attention back to the Path-thingy.

It looks like a series of concentric, Penrose-stair-like oval rings, each shaped differently from the next. And in the middle floats a glistening golden sphere. The whole device seems like a much more complex version of a gyroscope.

 Vladimir lets go of the Pathavane, which, like most things – and people – here, doesn’t obey the laws of gravity. It merely hangs there, awaiting its orders. Peter advances and slides his index on one of the loops, which causes the entire thing to collapse horizontally: all the circles join in at the middle, forming a ring system around the sphere, as if it were their Saturn.   

He then delicately presses his finger against the sphere, and draws a very strange, slender symbol. The second he steps away, the loops pop back into position and gradually start spinning, each in a different manner and direction. Slow at first, the rings progressively speed up and, like a very cool science experiment, light symbols appear on the sphere, one after the other. The rotation gets so fast that the rings almost disappear, and the symbols inside get clearer by the second.

I, of course, have no idea what they mean, so I observe everyone’s reaction in the hopes of getting some sort of clue. 

The group doesn’t even wait for the Pathavane to stop before they start discussing the suggested route.

“Whatever the order, I’d like her to pass by Sam’s first,” Peter requests, and the others seem to agree. 

“Dem and Indya should be free at this time, and they won’t give us any trouble. Better yet, they might teach her the basics…” Vlad ponders, and everyone directs considerate glances my way. 

Thanks for using the third person when I’m standing right here, guys. 

Nirav forms a “V” with his fingers, and the other two nod. “Yeah, we should definitely see Veni. Of all of them, she should understand… But it means we’d be passing by Corb…” Vlad suddenly bites his tongue and gives Peter an apologetic look. 

Peter brushes it off with a headshake and a swift change of subject. “Either way, we’d have to go through mine, but then Pi’s… and I really think it’s too soon for that,” he muses, as Vlad unexpectedly beams at me, playfully. 

“Don’t look at me,” I throw with a hardly concealed pout, “you lost me at ‘Pathavane’!” 

And with their usual tact, they all snort. Loudly. 

“Okay then,” Peter eventually adopts a leader’s voice, “if any one of you needs to prepare for the trip, go right ahead. We don’t have much time.” 

He then turns to me and ruthlessly eyes me from head to toe, with a little more than mere interest. “As for you, young lady,” he puts on a mischievous smirk, “let’s get you out of that shapeless, human dress.”

My eyebrows almost reach my hairline.  

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Whatever could you mean?” I ask coyly, fighting off a blush that never comes. That’s still very unsettling.

“Oh, you’ll see,” he promises with a smug wink and total obliviousness of Nirav, who’s still standing right there.

Ah, so flirty innuendoes are okay, as long as there’s no touching? We’re going to have to talk about this, eventually.

Meanwhile Vlad takes a few steps away, then slowly lifts his forearms like a T’ai chi master, and seems to be pushing air forward with his palms. A disturbing second later, an arcade-shaped, rippling blue veil appears right in front of him.

And in one step forward, he disappears.

“How did… Where…?” I mumble.

“This is a big place! He just stepped into another room,” Peter indulges.  

It’s bigger than this?!?

“You saw how we could build things, in the Chronophora, remember?” he explains, looking all excited again about teaching me the ways of his world.

I nod.

“We can also make them disappear and reappear at will. Vlad overdoes it, like he does everything else… But it comes from a good place, I guess. He wants most of his Space to be a memorial for our Elders,” he motions toward some of the statues, “So he keeps his own rooms hidden, in respect.”

“Um… Can I do this? Build things?” I can’t help but ask.

“Oh you’ll learn! We all have. There’s a… school for this, run by two of my closest friends. We’ll pass through their Spaces on the way.”

“Shall we?” Vlad asks, reappearing all too quietly, and comically waving backwards to make the veiled entrance disappear. He’s carrying what looks like a long, maroon cloth bag, bean-pod shaped, with ends twisted like a sultan’s slippers. He hoists it up to his shoulder.

“Is that food?” I whisper to Peter, “’Cause I’m starved, honestly.”

My words stop him dead, and he stares at me, puzzled. “You’re hungry?!” he asks a little too loudly, drawing a mystified look from Vlad. Nirav, however, seems indifferent. It’s his thoughtful candy gift that has kept me going so far. …What does he know?

“But… we don’t get hungry!” Vlad blurts.

The only word I like in that sentence is the “we”. It shows I’m part of the group. But the rest suddenly depresses me. “You don’t eat?!” I ask with exaggerated woe. Yes, I said ‘woe’. This seemed the dramatic moment for it.

“Well… yes we do, but for… pleasure. It’s part of our baser needs,” Vlad goes on, murmuring that last part as if it were dirty.

No food?! I hate this place!!!

Peter’s worried knuckle goes back up to that juicy lower lip of his. “I don’t see how we can find things to eat anytime soon… Are you still capable of physical effort?” he asks, as if addressing a human again.

“’Starved’ is an exaggeration… I’m okay,” but the residual distraught look on my face convinces no one.

“We’ll hurry and find you something, I promise,” Peter intimates, worriedly.

He then turns to Vlad and speaks in their airy, elegant language. The vowels seem longer – some even doubled – while the consonants sound more labial than anything else. It’s fascinating to listen to, and it seems like they’re discussing the route again, so I’m not too frustrated to know what’s being said, as long as it leads us to chow.

As I stare on and grab my rumbling tummy, I feel Nirav’s imposing presence, looming, somewhere to my left. Another very strange aspect of this place: everything and everyone is teeming with so much energy that I could feel it against my very skin. I wonder is it’s the nature of things here, or mine.  My “new nature”, unknown to everyone, including me…

I lightly lean towards the tall, intimidating Elf, and speak as low as I can. “Did you know? That I would need to eat, I mean?”

He gazes at me, as if unsure whether or not he should answer that, and then raises three fingers to his mouth.

What happens then is both icky and beguiling: a trail of luminous, orangish sparks follows his fingers, as he does a soft, pulling movement. They gradually bundle up in an irregular sphere which levitates in front of his lips for a second, then lightly glides over to me. 

Wow… If that’s his Lume, it’s absolutely beautiful.

I carefully do as Peter taught me, ushering it toward my ear, while cautiously glancing at the other two. Should they be seeing this?

To my surprise, I feel Nirav’s fingers still my hand mid-motion. He faintly shakes his head, and lifts my fingers to my eyes.

What…? His Lume is read differently?... I stare at him, befuddled, and it’s seconds before I finally understand.

Oh no… I can’t even bear the thought of putting a contact lens in there, and this guy wants me to push a fireball into my eye?!

Ugh… Okay, here goes… Good thing it’s not actually fire. I barely even feel the impact…

At first, nothing happens. But then, slowly, gracefully, gleaming shapes start forming, too close for me to see clearly. I instinctively screw up my eyes and concentrate, as if adjusting the focus of a camera lens. It’s intense enough to make me dizzy. I have no idea if these shapes are seen on the outside, or if they’re only reflected against my own cornea. What are they?

A few seconds later, they start making sense.

“Suspected it. I had to check”.

The incandescent words scroll before – or within – my eyes, then slowly disappear, as if their job is done.

I blink a couple of times, quizzically tilting my head. How is a Lume really made? And how could he have written those words without even using his hands? What I would give for a crash course in Elf!!!

But I try to stick to the subject at hand.

“Oh… so the candy was a test?” I ask, although the answer is obvious. He nods, shrugging apologetically.

My next question catches him off guard.

“But then… what am I?”

If what’s supposed to be an optional, “base” need to them, is a primary necessity for me, then how “Elven” could I possibly be?...

The sudden silence that follows puts an end to the conversation. From the corner of my eye, I notice Peter watching me, warily.

“Ready?” he asks, addressing only me.

For some reason that goes against all my feminist principles, I nod, obediently, and scurry to him, like a child who’s got caught stealing from the cookie jar.

And my question just hangs there, unanswered.

Vlad guides the group to one side of the colossal hall, where two statues, one male and the other female, seem to be floating in perfect synchrony. I observe as the lot stop to briefly bow in respect. I clumsily do the same, although the only admiration I feel is for their obvious reverence toward their forefathers slash mothers… I wish I knew their history, and what these figures have actually done to deserve all this…

Vlad slides one hand sideways, and the statues part, leaving a wider vacant space in the sandy wall. And very gracefully, Nirav and Vladimir step forward into the glittery powder, disappearing on the other side.

Now that we’re alone, Peter turns around, surprises me with a very swift, happy-teenager kiss – the hiding game again. Why? – and takes my hand.

“Remember what you did back there, with the ground?” he asks, with a tint of awe. I nod. “You’ll have to explain to me just how you figured it out so quickly! We all fall a few dozen times at first!!... But for now, just know that the principle is the same with this wall: feel the Energy of the particles, and just… float into it. Ready?”

I blink. Can I do this again? I’ll just have to think of Danielle’s Lume perhaps…

Peter squeezes my hand encouragingly, and slides through the sand as if it were water, keeping a hold of my fingers. But his dragging me with him barely gives me the time to concentrate, or even ask him to slow down. And so, soon enough, I find myself swallowing sand.

I cough in panic, and take a step back into the mausoleum, losing grip of Peter’s hand.  Damn it!

I ogle at the wall, fuming. It won’t get me that easy!

And just as I take a small but determined step forward, I see Peter’s forearm comically sticking through the sand, with an open, expecting palm. I chuckle at the sight of it, before a sneaky thought hits me. I delicately put my own palm underneath it, bend forward, and kiss the soft skin between the thumb and the index finger. It’s entirely his problem if he can’t keep a straight face on the other side, isn’t it? I snigger, proud of my flirting techniques, when his fingers softly reach up to my cheek and caress it in the sweetest of ways. I feel my insides shiver then loosen considerably… That man is very, very dangerous.

I straighten up, take a deep, uncertain breath and grab his hand. I can feel the vibration; it’s everywhere, and it never stops, so all I have to do is focus…

I close my eyes, and march into the wall, feeling only a slight tickle, as I somehow try to push the vibrations away, and try to… “glide” through them.

“You did it!” Peter whispers, letting go of my hand. “Now open your eyes…”

I do as he says, and my heart violently drops all the way to my feet.

Sweet mother of…!!!

We seem to be standing on a hill, with Elysium at our very feet.

The first thing that hits me is the infinity of floating, random-shaped, and highly colourful plots – … of land? – spreading as far as the eye can see, and beyond. They’re all woven into what looks like an endless, glowing, raw silk scarf, rippling softly and horizontally, on a supernatural, mellow, unfelt breeze.

The plots are of widely different shapes and sizes, with details I’m too scared to even focus on.

I’m frozen there, winded, with limp extremities and a reeling, overwhelmed mind, staring at what could very well be the heavens.

Everything floats here, even the earth. It’s so full of… Life, or what they call Energy; so much so that it seems animated by an actual heartbeat; a very gentle, immense one, as if this entire universe were built on a whale’s back.

And just when I think I’ve gone to the utter limits of bewilderment, I notice what lies beyond and above the ebbing and swelling silk…

This could be their sky, but instead of a clear, sunny-Sunday blue, it’s made of molten, soft-light-casting GOLD. Massive swirls and eddies of specked, melted gold, that resemble, to the stroke, Van Gogh’s Starry Night – without the blue. They shed a honey-yellow light, which seems to go perfectly with our olive skins, and reminds me of the outdoor scenes in Gattaca, one of my all-time favourite films…

But what good are human, earthly comparisons here? These are sights, colours, textures, and proportions I’ve never seen before, and I suspect no one else ever has.

My breath hitches heavily.

 “Are you okay?” Peter asks softly, but I don’t have it in me to answer.         

I look down and realize we’re actually standing on grass. Such an earthly thing, yet it exists here. I never imagined I would miss simple, uncut grass so intensely. It reminds me of the Luxembourg gardens in Paris. I swallow a threat of tears.

“Is this too much?” Peter insists. I slowly shake my head. My voice sounds hoarse when I finally manage to say, “Is this real?!...”

They all smile, then ceremoniously position themselves side by side in a straight line, with their backs turned to me. I wonder if they’re also contemplating the view, but then the three raise their hands to their mouths. Peter and Vlad whisper a few words in their language, while Nirav stands by. Next thing I see, three dots of light rise above their heads, and float there for a moment. Nirav’s orange-coloured Lume is easily distinguishable. Vlad’s looks more like a weightless, white, glowing snowflake, and Peter’s…. I smile as I realize it’s of the same, adorable green as his eyes. It’s perfectly round and flat, like a silver coin, and flips on itself, constantly reflecting light on both surfaces.

The three Lumes then dart out like shooting stars, towards different plots of land at the foot of the hill, followed quickly by many others the trio keep generating, three by three, in perfectly synchronized motions. There’s something very poetic about it...

In my daze, a faint thought slowly dawns on me: they’re informing everyone of our coming, or as Vlad put it, “politely asking permission from the landlords” to go through their Spaces.  But... what excuse could they possibly come up with to explain... me?! When I got Danielle’s Lume, Peter said it meant that everyone “knew”, but knew what exactly?...

 As I tensely watch the firefly-like messages head for their intended destinations, a kind of route is drawn by their light, like dots on a metro map; a route that looks anything but straight. The direct way to Danielle’s castle must have been too much to ask of the Pathavane...

A few seconds later, the Lume ritual is done, and the three Elves turn to see if I’m ready to start the journey, only to find a deep, worried frown.

“What did you tell them... about me?” I ask feebly, still choked up by the overwhelming sights, information, and worries that seem to have washed over me in a matter of minutes.

Peter glances playfully at the other two, and his slight smile aims to reassure.

“I told them I drew you, and you came to life,” he states simply.

My jaw drops.

“C-can you... actually do that sort of thing?” I ask, unable to hide the tinge of freak-out in my voice.

“No... but skills evolve here,” – They do?! – “so with a bit of bluff, I think I can pull it off... As long as you...”

“Don’t screw up?... I... How?...” I mumble, more overwhelmed by the second.

 Vlad whispers something in Elvish and Peter nods.

“Come, we’ll talk about it on the way. We’re running late. Danielle is not overly fond of waiting.”

                                               ----------------------------------
 

I follow the small group down the hill, soothed by the feel of wet grass against my soles. It helps me cool down and somewhat regulate my breathing. I discreetly check the back of the hospital gown and heave a sigh of relief: the ties are pretty tight. Imagine the embarrassment ... Hello new universe, one of yours drew me to life, but forgot to cover my rear end!

It’s a steep descent, and all I can see ahead is a weird-looking, grey mist, at the very bottom of the hill. I hope we’re not going through that...

Peter interrupts my musing. “We’ll all need to agree on the same story. Vlad and I were thinking, maybe I should say I drew you in my own Space, in an intensely inspired moment, and was shocked to see you materialize. Everyone knows I’m a Herald to your Garden, so they won’t be surprised I gave you a human language. I’ll explain all that, and how I took you straight to Vladimir’s Space...”

“For counsel, since I’m the expert on our History,” Vlad interferes. I catch sight of Nirav rolling his eyes, and I swallow a smirk. “He wanted to know if this had happened before, which it hasn’t. I then put you in a brooding bubble, just as Danielle’s Lume arrived.”

“What you’ll need to do is avoid, under all circumstances, any reference to your Garden, or your life there,” Peter instructs carefully. “No talk of memories or of people you knew.”

His casual, past-tense reference to my family and friends rips a hole through my chest, and for a second there, I hate him. 

Still, I try my best to keep a neutral face.

“You’ll need to look at everything with wonder, as if you were seeing it for the first time in your life. No comparisons with anything you’ve seen before. And if anyone asks you where you’ve learnt to speak, say you don’t remember that. Or anything for that matter.”

“What were my first images of? If they’re of you in your Space, well... I’ve never been there, and they might ask me...” I ramble.

“No, you first woke up in the bubble, which you know well... Lily, you have to be very careful... We’ll be with you at all times, and try to keep the curious ones away. We haven’t decided what to tell Danielle yet... We’ll have to come up with a plan. But for the others...”

“Okay, I heard you, I just... need to mull this over,” I murmur, staring at my feet as we walk on.

This is too heavy... Am I even up to it? All three of them are implicated, so if I fail...

Great, classic Stockholm syndrome! Why do I even care so much?... Yet again, if they’re in trouble, then so am I. Who knows what the others would do to a hybrid freak.

            I swallow hard.

As we get further away from the mausoleum, I inconspicuously throw a fleeting look backwards, and gasp. The circular outside is a mix of beautiful Indian-looking arcades decorated with floral-shaped silver motifs, and sturdy, pearl-white columns, probably of that same gleaming marble-like material as the ceiling cupolas. The roof is much more massive than the actual walls. It looks like a colossal silver crown, with liquid mercury spikes of all shapes and heights, all reaching upwards.

Vlad notices my stare. “They’re tears.”

“Come again?"

“They’re all tears, or at least they have their shape. One for each Elder who has moved on. Every time one of them leaves, I add a tear to the roof. You could say they’re ‘falling upwards’, to follow the Elders.” His tone falls slightly at the end, as if the emotion were still raw.

We keep walking, with Peter suddenly strangely quiet, and staring fixedly at the fog.

“What is that?” I ask, crossing my fingers for it not to be in our route plans.

“Nothing. It’s a condemned area. We’ll have to go around it, and get straight to Sam’s,” he says broodingly. Something’s off.

As we get closer, the fog becomes less opaque, and I start to distinguish black earth, as if after an extensive fire, and a desolate mess of stone, textile, and some material I don’t even know. And the mist is actually smoke, still oozing out of the ground itself. I can only see a few yards into it; the rest disappears within the fumes. It’s more sinister than a war zone.

“Who would do this to a Space?” I wonder out loud, but Vlad cautions me with a sharp look then quickly peers at Peter, as if hoping he hasn’t heard.

“My brother,” Peter blurts out without looking at me.

We walk on in silence, and I know that for now, this is all he’ll let on. He has a brother?!

Out of the blue, memories of his hospital visits start to come back to me.

Oh my God... his mother was assaulted. And now his brother and... this!

What the hell has happened to his family?! 



[CHAPTER 18 OUT BY THE END OF JUNE. SORRY FOR THE WAIT EVERYONE!! @-;- ]

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