by Ted Dekker
“And you want me to encourage these dreams? How about you, Tanis? Does this make sense to you?”
“Perfect. But if the dreams persist, they may have another purpose. How to make weapons, for example.”
“Weapons! Why would you need weapons?” Michal demanded.
“To fight the Shataiki, of course!”
“You will fight them with your heart!” the Roush cried. “Forget the weapons! I will tell you something from the histories now, and then I will never speak to either of you of them again. There was a saying I want you to remember. It was used poorly then, but it will serve you both well now. Make love, not war, they said. Think of this, Tanis, when you consider making your weapons. Make love, not war.”
Tanis looked stricken. He threw his hands wide, palms up. “You question my motives? Is there a man you know who is more versed in the Great Romance than I? No! I would rescue, as Elyon would rescue. If I would need a weapon to dispatch the black bats, is it even questionable? Is anything I suggest wrong?”
“No. And yes, you are a great lover of Elyon. I would never question your motives or your passions, Tanis. Do you hear me? Never!”
Tanis’s eyes flashed desperately. He lifted a fist to the sky and cried out, “Elyon, oh, Elyon, I would never withhold my love from you! I would dive into your bosom and drink deep of your heart! I will never forsake you. Never!”
Tears wet Michal’s eyes. It was the first time Tom had seen such emotion from the stoic Roush, and it surprised him.
Tanis paced back and forth quickly. “I must write a story for Elyon. I must speak of my love and the Great Romance and the rescuing of everything that is his! I have been inspired. Thank you, thank you both for this.” He turned to Thomas. “We will talk later, my young apprentice. You are ready to win the beauty?”
His reference to the anticipated romance between him and Rachelle made Tom feel suddenly lightheaded. “Yes, I think so. I think it’s all coming back.” Slowly. Too slowly.
“That’s my boy!” Tanis slapped him on the back. “Wonderful. Remember, he chooses.”
Tom nodded. “Chooses. Got it.”
“He pursues.”
A pause. He was expected to repeat. “He pursues.”
“He rescues.”
“He rescues.”
“He woos.”
“He woos.”
“He protects.”
“He protects.”
“He lavishes.”
“That was the extra one.”
Tanis pumped his fist. “He lavishes. It’s a good one, and I’m going to include it in the story I will write now.”
Tom mimicked Tanis with his fist. “He lavishes!”
“And so will you.”
“And so will you.”
“No, I. You say, ‘So will I.’”
“And so will I,” Tom said.
“And now I am off. A story is in the making!” Tanis dipped his head at both of them. “Until the Gathering.” He ran a few yards and whirled around.
“Should I tell her you are waiting?”
“Who?”
“The beauty! Rachelle, lad! Rachelle, the beauty!”
Now? He wasn’t even sure how to win a beauty. But especially now, in front of Michal, he had to follow the Roush’s advice. Pretend.
“Sure,” Tom said.
“Ha!” Off he ran.
Michal watched Tanis run. “Stunning, wonderful, magnificent.”
“You can’t seem to make up your mind about him,” Tom said.
“He is human! I can’t help but admire any human.”
“Right. Yes, of course.”
Tanis was already a tiny figure, running up the main street, probably telling the whole world that the dashing visitor from the other side was on the hill now, prepared to woo and win his beauty. Rachelle.
Michal turned from the valley. “The Great Romance. The Gathering. You have no idea what I would give to have what you have.” He hopped a few yards and gazed longingly at the horizon. “It’s all a bit much at times. I can hardly stand to sit by and watch.”
That was it. There was no way Tom could question Michal’s decision on withholding the histories after a spiel like that. It was all a bunch of nonsense any—
From the corner of his eye he saw a figure racing through the village below, and his heart bolted in his chest. It was Rachelle. He couldn’t see her face from this distance, but he saw her blue dress. She was racing for the arching village entrance, like a child sprinting to catch the ice-cream truck.
Tanis had told her.
Panic swept through his bones. What had he gotten himself into? Wasn’t this all going a bit fast? He’d been in the valley for less than a day. Love seemed to be a currency they were all swamped with. Naturally, without evil to rob their hearts, it would be.
Which meant he, too, was full of love. It would all come back. This was the way it worked.
Rachelle slowed at the entrance and started to meander up the hill. It was hard to imagine that anyone would be so eager to meet him, much less be romanced by him. Was he so appealing? Attractive?
“Michal!” He cleared his throat. “Michal.”
The Roush was staring down the hill, swaying with anticipation.
“Michal, you have to help me.”
“And take the fun out of it? It’s in your heart, Thomas. Win her!”
“I don’t know how to win her! I forget how!”
“No, you don’t ;no, you don’t forget! Some things you can’t forget.”
“She’s walking up here!” Tom paced quickly. “I don’t know what she expects.”
“You’re nervous; that’s good. That’s a good sign.”
“It is?”
“It betrays your true feelings!”
Tom stopped and stared at him. True enough. Why was he so nervous? Because he did want very much to impress the stunning woman sauntering up the hill toward him.
The realization only made it worse. Much worse.
“At least give me a pointer,” he said. “Should I just stand here?”
“Didn’t Tanis tell you? Okay.” Michal lifted his wing and guided Tom up the hill, toward the forest. “Okay, not speaking from experience but from what I’ve seen, and I have seen a few to be sure, I would suggest you wait in the trees up there.” His wings quivered. “Intrigue and mystery are what you’re after, I think. Dear, dear. I should go. She’s coming closer. I should go.”
Michal waddled off, hopped twice, and took to the air.
“Michal!”
But Michal was gone.
Tom whirled back, saw that Rachelle was making good time up the hill, hands behind her back, looking nonchalantly away. He ducked down, despite his full knowledge that she’d seen him, and ran for the top.
He was beginning to think he’d gone too far into the trees. That the large amber tree behind which he’d hidden camouflaged him too well. She’d missed him. He wasn’t even sure why he was hiding. Did rescuing the beauty look anything like hide-and-seek?
But he couldn’t stand out in the open with his arms folded, pretending to be a mighty warrior. On the other hand, Tanis might do that. Maybe he should.
He poked his head around the tree.
No sign of her. The forest glowed in a dazzling display of color. Red and blue and amber in this section. Birds chirped overhead. A light breeze swept the rich scent of roses through his nostrils.
But no sign of Rachelle.
He stepped out, suddenly worried that he’d lost her. Should he call out? No, that would only make it clear that he’d lost her. She wanted to be chosen, which sounded more like seeking and finding than calling out like a frightened boy lost in the forest. And although it was true that part of his anxiousness was motivated by this unabashed approach to romance, in all honesty he was very much attracted to her. Perhaps meant for her.
A flash of blue caught the corner of his eye. He jerked to his right.
Gone! His heart pounded. But it had been her, abo
ut fifty yards that way, between two huge trees.
Rachelle suddenly walked into the open, stopped, stared directly at him, and then disappeared without so much as a smile.
Tom stood rooted for a full five count. Go after her, you idiot! Run!
He ran. Around a tree. Crashing through the underbrush like a stampeding rhino.
Stop! You’re making too much noise!
He pulled up behind a tree and looked around it. Nothing. He walked forward in the direction she’d gone. But there was nothing. She’d vanished?
“Psst.”
Tom spun around. Rachelle leaned against a tree, arms crossed. A provocative smile crossed her lips. She winked. Then she slipped around the tree and was gone.
He ran after her. But again she’d vanished. This time he sprinted from tree to tree, looking, winded now.
When she did appear, it was like the last time, suddenly and casually, leaning against another tree behind him. She raised her eyebrow and grinned. Then again she was gone.
It struck Tom then that he hadn’t been paying any mind to the rescuing part of this romance. Maybe that’s why she was leading him on. He’d chosen her by running after her, but she was waiting for him to show his strength. The time for subtlety had passed.
The show Tanis and Palus had put on raced through his mind.
He yelled the first thing that came to mind. “Hark, what see I? It is a streak of black in the trees!” He ran in the direction Rachelle had vanished. “Come hither, my dear!” He desperately hoped that wasn’t too forward. “Come so that I mightest protectest thou!”
Mightest protectest thou? Was that the way Tanis had put it?
“Oh, dear!”
Rachelle!
She jumped out from behind a tree to his left, eyes round, one hand raised to her lips. “Where?”
Where? He shoved a finger in the opposite direction. “There!”
She cried out and ran toward him. The breeze whipped her blue dress around the leggings she wore. She grabbed his shoulder and hid behind him.
Tom was so stunned by his sudden success that he lost track of the black bats for a moment. He stared at her face, now only inches from his own. The forest fell silent. He could smell her breath. Like lilacs.
Her eyes shifted to meet his. They held for a moment.
“Are you going to stare at me or take on the bats?” she asked.
“Oh, yeah.”
Tom jumped out ambitiously and cocked his arms to take on the phantom enemy with a few spectacular chops and kicks.
“They are coming in hoards. Don’t worry, I can take them all. Ha, ya!” He sprang into the air, kicked with his right foot, then twirled through a full three-sixty before striking out again.
He’d gone for it impulsively, pushed by an inordinate desire to show his strength and skill. But the fact that he’d actually twisted through a full revolution in the air stopped him cold. Where had he learned that?
Just now he’d learned that.
In his self-admiration he lost track of his movements and crashed to the forest floor with a mighty thump.
“Ugh!”
Tom clawed his way to his knees, breath knocked clean out of his lungs. Rachelle ran up and dipped to one knee.
“Are you okay?” Her hand touched his shoulder.
He gasped. “Yeah.”
“Yes?”
“Sure.”
She quickly pulled him to his feet. A smile slowly twisted her lips. “I can see that You’ve forgotten some of your . . . mighty moves,” she said. She glanced around. “The next time it might look something like this.”
She leaped in the direction of the invisible Shataiki. “Ha!” She kicked. Not a simple forward kick, but a perfectly executed roundhouse that dropped her back to earth in the ideal position for a second move.
She looked back, winked. “Tanis taught me.”
Then she went after the enemy in a long series of spectacular moves that stopped Tom’s breath for a second time. He counted one, two, three backflips in the mix. At least a dozen combination moves, most of them in the air.
And she did it all with the grace of a dancer, careful to accommodate her dress as she flew.
This chick was good. Very good.
She landed on her toes, facing Tom at twenty feet, all business.
“Ha!” she said and winked again.
“Ha. Wow.”
“Wow.”
He swallowed.
She quickly lowered her guard and assumed a more feminine stance. “Don’t worry, we’ll just pretend you did that. I won’t tell a soul.”
He cleared his throat. “Okay.”
She studied him for a moment. Her eyes twinkled. The game wasn’t over. Of course not. It was probably just starting.
Or so he was beginning to hope.
Choose, pursue, protect, woo. The words echoed in his mind.
“You are very . . . strong,” he said. “I mean graceful.”
She started to walk toward him. “I know what you mean. And I like both strong and graceful.”
“Well, you’re also very kind.”
“Am I?”
“Yes, I think so.”
He wanted to tell her that she was beautiful. That she was intriguing and full of life and compelling. But suddenly he found the words too much. It was all too much, too fast. For a man with all of his senses properly engaged, this might be the natural way to romance a woman, but for him, having lost his memory . . .
Rachelle stopped at arm’s length. Searched his eyes.
“I think it was a wonderful game. You are a mysterious man. I like that. Maybe we can pick this up later. Good-bye, Thomas Hunter.”
She turned and walked away.
Just like that? She couldn’t just walk away, not now.
“Wait!” He ran up to her. “Where are you going?”
“To the village.”
Her interest seemed to have evaporated. Maybe this choosing and wooing business was more involved than he’d thought.
“Can I walk with you?”
“Sure. Maybe I can help you remember a few things along the way. Your memory certainly needs some prodding.”
Before he could respond to her obvious needling, a large white beast stepped out of the trees toward them. A tiger, pure white with green eyes. Tom stopped abruptly.
Rachelle looked at him, then at the tiger. “That, for example, is a white tiger.”
“A tiger. I remember that.”
“Good.”
She walked to the animal, hugged it around the neck, and ruffled its ears. The tiger licked her cheek with a large tongue and she nuzzled its nose. Apparently all in the course of a day. Then she insisted that he come over and scratch the tiger’s neck with her. It would be easier for him to remember if he engaged the world actively.
Tom wasn’t sure how to read her comments. She said them all with a smile and with apparent sincerity, but he couldn’t help thinking that she was edging him on or chiding him for his lackluster romancing.
Or she could be playing hard to get. Could that be part of the Great Romance?
On the other hand, she may have already decided he wasn’t quite what she’d hoped for. Maybe the game was at its end. Could you unchoose, once having chosen?
They walked a few steps with tiger in tow. Rachelle plucked a yellow fruit from a small leafed tree.
“What is this?” she asked.
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“A lemon.”
“A lemon, yes, of course, I remember that too.”
“And if you put the juice of this lemon on a cut, what happens?”
“It heals?”
She curtsied. “Very good.” They walked on and Rachelle picked a cherry-sized purple fruit from a low tree with wide branches. “And this one?”
“I don’t think I know that one.”
She circled him as she held up the fruit. “Try to remember. I’ll give you a hint. Its flesh is sour. No one likes them much.”
He grinned and shook his head. “No. Doesn’t ring any bells.”
“If you eat it” —she imitated a small bite with perfectly formed white teeth—“your mind reacts.”
“No, no. Still nothing.”
“Rhambutan,” she said. “It puts you to sleep. You don’t even dream.” She tossed it back to the tiger, but the beast ignored it.
They’d come to the edge of the forest. The village sat peacefully in the valley, glimmering with the brightly colored homes leading concentrically to the great Thrall.
Rachelle gazed down the hill and spoke without looking at him. “You are even more mysterious and wonderful than I imagined when I chose you.”
“I am?”
“You are.”
He should respond in kind, but the words weren’t coming.
“You might want to work on your memory, of course,” she said.
“Actually, my memory works well in some areas.”
She faced him. “Is that so? What areas are those?”
“In my dreams. I’m having vivid dreams that I live in the histories. And all of that I remember. It’s almost as real as this place.”
She searched his eyes. “And do you remember how to romance in these dreams?”
“Romance? Well, I don’t have a girlfriend or anything, if that’s what you mean, no. But maybe I do know some things.” Kara’s advice on romance came back to him. Now would be a good time to turn up the wooing quotient. “But nothing like this. Nothing so wonderful and beautiful as you. No one who captures my heart so completely with a single touch or a passing smile.”
The corner of her mouth tugged into a faint smile. “My, you are remembering. You may dream all you like, my dear.”
“Only if I can dream about you,” he said.
She reached up and touched his cheek. “Good-bye, Thomas Hunter. I will see you soon.”
He swallowed. “Good-bye.”
Then she was walking down the hill.
Tom walked back from the crest so that he wouldn’t be visible from the valley. The last thing he wanted at the moment was for Tanis or Palus to come flying up for a report.
He knew he wouldn’t be dreaming of Rachelle, despite his sentiments to do so. He’d be dreaming of Bangkok, where he was expected to deliver some critical information on the Raison Strain.
He stopped by a large green tree and looked east. The black forest was about an hour’s walk. The answers to a dozen questions could be there. Questions about what had happened to him in the black forest. Where he’d come from. Questions about the histories. The Raison Strain.