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I can’t say that it goes completely unnoticed because neither male in my company is unobservant in the least but there is some sort of silent agreement apparently to not comment on it. A little recovery time is more than welcome but I’m a little surprised, however, that my mate is not making a fuss in his usual show of possessiveness. Usually, he would be growling fitfully over anyone directly giving me anything. Instead, he appears to be silently accepting this as his gaze roves over me with approval.
“Lovely,” Nygohl croons, the echo of his voice as he says the word giving it a haunted sound.
Jugong head turns toward the male and he gives him an affronted look. “Not lovely,” he objects with a snarl. “Our female is beautiful.”
Our? When did this become “our” when moments ago he was decisively “mine, mine, mine?” Apparently, something had shifted between the males that was beyond my understanding however because Nygohl just smiles in turn and nods.
“Indeed. Shall we?” he inquires, extending a hand to me.
I give it a suspicious look, unsettled by the sudden shifts in their demeanors. I am still glaring slightly at it as I stomp over to my clothes and rescue my blaster. I belt it securely to my side and give it a reassuring pat just to make sure that it is there before I make my way back to the wraith’s side. I don’t take his hand because I don’t shift gears quite that rapidly and this is still our prey after all and my chin tips defiantly as I meet his eyes.
“Lead the way.”
I pretend that his airy chuckle doesn’t evoke a tight, tingling sensation inside of me as I watch him assume his place ahead of us. Ultimately, I’m glad to leave the chamber of desire behind us as we step into the next corridor and move deeper again into this strange temple.
The walls arerivers of blood, and they pour into deep crevices on either side of the floor. There is a soft sound of indiscernible voices as if a multitude are quietly whispering, speaking their thoughts in a jumble of suspicious whispers. Every now and then something moves beneath the blood as if someone is running through it and I find this all even more disconcerting than the other two hallways. It feels like we are being spied upon as we are talked about in hushed voices.
Jugong’s ears shift restlessly, the thick fur of his head and neck stiffening and puffing out. He bares his teeth and whips his head toward the loudest of whispers, his tail slashing through the airbehind him. His wings fan the air around him, the tips coming just shy of gliding through the rivers coursing down the walls as if he is preparing to take flight at any moment despite the close confines. It is a trapped feeling that I understand all too well. It brings back memories of the wulkwos and the strange way they whispered to each other with dual voices as they came closer and closer to my hiding place.
Unsettled, I walk at a faster pace, all the while I feel chased as if those creatures are giving chase once again. An alarmed cry falls from my lips, and I plunge forward into a full out run. Jugong’s voice shouts after me but I can’t make out his words, all I know is the terror filling me as I hear the panted breaths of the wulkwos, their claws hitting the floor. They are reaching for me, preparing to rip me apart between them once more. I scream in panic as a pair of cold arms encircle me and lift me off my feet. I claw at my captor and scream louder as another pair of hands grab ahold of me.
“Quick into the chamber!” a voice hisses and I sob, tears streaking down my face.
Claws will tear at me; teeth will snap and rip into my flesh and they gorge themselves on my meat.
“Here. Here. Stop, we’ve made it. Marie. Marie. Wake up. Come back to us,” he croons.
A purr rumbles steadily from my other side as a smooth, cold hand and a hot, furred one stroke over my face and along my shoulders as I’m held between them. I surface gradually as a veil descends over that memory, dulling the pain as I gradually come back to myself once more. My eyelashes flutter and my eyes finally open as I look up at the two concerned faces peering down at me. Jugong with his green eyes and inky fur in a lush,thick pelt, his foxlike ears flattened with worry, and Nygohl with his inhumanely pale face and dark eyes brightened with the blue flames burning in the hearts of them. His dark hair falls like a curtain around us. He runs a claw gently down my cheek and a relieved smile tips his lips as a small sigh escapes him.
“I was worried,” he rasps. “I didn’t expect you to react so strongly.”
I shake my head, silencing him. “It’s okay. Just… bad memories.”
A look of sympathy crosses his face, and he nods. “I forget at times that many reclamation specialists were once human. You are always haunted by your death and afraid of those little things that accompanied it. The worst the death, the more suited for reclamations it seems because you have suffered terribly and arrive with your mind and spirit still intact despite it all. Once you endure that, you can endure any horror that you are sent after.”
I exhale and release a shaky laugh. “I should have known that this place would find a way to use it against me.”
Nygohl nods in agreement. “I should have considered it as well. Forgive me. I would have carried you through there personally if I had even thought…”
“It’s over with now,” I sigh. Jugong anxiously backs up a pace so that I can sit up and reach forward to cup his fuzzy cheek in one hand. “I’m okay. I promise.”
His head tips in a faint nod and his eyes slide shut as he leans his head into my palm, brushing the back of one wing affectionately against my cheek. I move my fingers against his fur. I never noticed before how soft it is or how baby fine andsilky the webbing of his wings are. I leisurely enjoy the contact as I center myself, not unaware that Nygohl’s hand is still on back stroking in small circles. For this moment I can feel the connection between us and am drawing strength from it. Eventually, Jugong straightens, his head craning as he peers at our surroundings.
“What room is this now?” he queries as Nygohl gently helps me to my feet as if I’m the one who appears to be made of porcelain.
“The chamber of the mind,” the wraith replies.
Shifting my gaze from him, I take my first glimpse of my surroundings and gasp. There was a scene in a movie when I was child in which a beast gifted his beautiful captive with a personal library of magnificent size filled top to bottom with books. As I grew up, I decided that was the most romantic of gifts. Staring at my surroundings now, I am astounded by what the simple reality of such a place looks like. Everywhere I look there are massive shelves filled with books and taller iron stands filled with candles to shed light on every possible corner. In the center of the room, however, was a strange device that seemed out of place and taking up much of the remaining space of the room.
I step around Jugong and Nygohl and head for it, curious as to what purpose it served. Like the berry bush served for the chamber of growth, and the rose beds were the true heart of the chamber of desire, I have no doubt that this machine is the true heart of this room as well. My eyes scan the room, noting that the images on the walls are carefully framed, depicting scenes of companionship and scholarship, but in each image, there is a sense of something just beyond the veil waiting and watching. It is a grim imprint like death awaiting them at their end of their pursuits. This is evident as well as with the machine.
I turn toward it again, examining it more closely this time. It towers over me, each side supported by a skeletal figure. At the top the sun is at the pinnacle, surrounded by a number of suspended planets. My gaze drops, noting the dials and lifts again before noting that the ceiling above is marked with the numerous constellations visible from Earth. My gaze drifts back to the sun and I frown as I note at its center are numerous, small, layered plates shifting minutely as if it contains a sort of clock ticking down the minutes…. hours…. days…. years.
If I listen closely, I can swear I hear the soft moaning whisper of the mechanism ticking as it slowly winds down.
I tap a finger on my leg as I consider the layout of the temple. Those who entered would be escorted through the front entrance and would be kept within the so-called pilgrimage rooms. The courtyard waited beyond that with water available to slake the thirst. The first room was truly the courtyard representing the open primordial waters. A second finger then joins the first as I consider the next chamber. Following after the courtyard is the room of growth where the food of the garden was enjoyed and the illusion of peace despite the dangers all around.
“What are your thoughts?” Nygohl whispers and I glance over at him, not entirely surprised to see him hovering so close once more, his gaze fixed intensely upon me as if waiting expectantly for me to work out this puzzle.
