by Leena Maria
Diana started scooping her stuff off the other bed.
"You mean practiced lucid dreaming?"
"Yes, what else? She taught me, and I would have done even stranger things to please her. If she wanted me to learn to awake in my dreams, then I would do my best to learn. Not a big price to pay for freedom."
She took the bundle of her clothes and books she had gathered from the bed given to me, dropped them on the floor next to her bed and continued talking.
"Took me three months to finally get there. Lilith was waiting for me. It was enough that I managed to wake up in my dream. She did not put me through any tests or set me searching after any clues – the times were not safe for any young girl to go alone anywhere, slave or free. Lilith simply appeared in our friend's living room one evening after meeting me in my dream. Stepped through the slit, and took me with her, and brought me here."
"Slit? What slit?"
"Hmm... it'll be better if I let Lilith explain some things to you. Your head is probably spinning as it is."
She was right about that.
"OK. Let's go and get you some clothes, if you are to stay."
Diana opened the door and motioned me to go to the corridor.
"How can you live in another time?" I had to ask this young woman who was 160 years old, strictly speaking.
"No problem there. I leave one time-space reality and disappear from there. And I enter another one, where time keeps on ticking just as it would have done in my old life. It really isn't all that complicated. So I am exactly my physical age, despite the fact I skipped a few decades. Or centuries."
I snorted.
"Sorry. At the moment all of this feels quite complicated..."
"It won't, after a while. You'll get used to the idea. But the rest of it quite boggles the mind, I can assure you."
She was right.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
19. The Strange Language
Mr. Donnelly spent several days trying to work out what the language in the notebook was. It had to belong to some small language group... It was not related to Latin that was certain. Also the names Elijah and Merit didn't really give anything away about their possible origins.
Then finally Mr. Donnelly's attention turned to a small sketch that stood out from all the drawings of the Egyptian monuments that surrounded it. The tall tower with the clock faces on it looked European and possibly medieval, if it were not for the modern appearance of the roof of the tower.
"A cathedral, perhaps?" mused Mr. Donnelly.
In the library, book after book on church architecture revealed nothing quite like it. Mr. Donnelly knew with the certainty of the dedicated researcher that it was simply a matter of time as he methodically turned the pages of each volume in turn. The next book was a thick and quite heavy one.
"Aha!"
There it was, finally! The image on the cover nearly matched the one in the drawing.
"The Cathedral of Turku in Finland...so the language is probably Finnish! No wonder I couldn't read the text in the notebook – it's not related to any other language in Europe. Except Estonian - and possibly Hungarian? I seem to remember there's a connection."
Mr. Donnelly sat back, his thoughts running on ahead. He needed to learn Finnish - but how? He couldn't show the notebook to anyone. The intensity of his sense of protection towards it surprised him. It was so fragile. He didn't want anyone else touching it, damaging it perhaps.
"Of course!"
He remembered a restaurant in the city the Scandinavians frequented, and that evening he dressed in presentable clothes. In the library he usually wore slippers and an oriental-looking dressing gown for its comfort. But now he put on a proper suit and his better shoes, and headed out to dinner.
Just as he had suspected, he found a few Finns in the restaurant in question, mingling with a bunch of Swedes - they did not seem to have any trouble in speaking Swedish, which sounded hilarious to Mr. Donnelly's ears.
"Mr. Donnelly, how nice to see you here." One of the Finns was a researcher he had often seen in the library, but they always spoke English with each other, and Mr. Donnelly had never actually asked whereabouts in the human world the other man had come from.
Once he had made the initial contact, Mr. Donnelly started to eat there regularly to chat with the Finnish scholar informally. They also met in the library. It was easy for Mr. Donnelly to raise the matter of learning the difficult language and the other man seemed happy enough to teach him. One day he even produced a little book "Finnish for Foreigners" and gave it to Mr. Donnelly.
"But this book is quite new!" Mr. Donnelly exclaimed upon seeing the price tag.
"Yes, I stole it for you," the Finn said, looking slightly baffled at his surprise. "There are new books in the world, you know."
"Yes, yes, thank you..." Mr. Donnelly mumbled, embarrassed, "I suppose I have been spending too much time inside the old library..."
The other man laughed.
"Yes, well, maybe you should go visit the world sometimes."
Mr. Donnelly managed a frozen smile, and hurried off mumbling about an urgent matter. How could he have expected the other man to know he wasn't allowed to leave the city?
CHAPTER TWENTY
20. Shadow Council
"You lost her."
The voice was chilling and imperious. Sitting completely still on her throne-like chair with her back to the night, she might have been a beautiful statue. Her moonshadow stretched across the floor to the deeper pool of darkness in the midst of the councillors. The deep shade seemed to shift and shrink as her glance fell on it.
"She must be found," said the seated woman. "She is our key to the Path."
Around her she felt, rather than saw, the others nodding slowly and respectfully. Her words were never challenged.
"Do - they - know about her?" one of the council asked. He was a handsome, tall man, whose age was difficult to pinpoint.
"They know what she is, but they do not know what she will be, if everything has gone according to plan; and I do not doubt that it has. My father has done his work well. If they had known about her earlier, she would have been taken to safety sooner. But they will find out, given time. When they start her training, it will come out, eventually. Such skill must be ours! She is our Key."
Only the tight voice revealed how angry she was. Her pale face, lit by the rays of the moon reflecting from cold and gleaming walls, revealed nothing. She showed no emotion. Her beautiful yellow eyes observed the others calmly. They stopped at the darker shadow at the foot of the circle of figures for a while and narrowed, but then moved on round the others again.
"What can we do to seize her before - her change?"
"We must find out where she is. Hack her parents' phone and computer. We will find out her location eventually, even if the shadows have failed."
There was a murmur of agreement from the circle of councillors.
"Firstly, though," the woman looked into the dark mass of shade. "This is the reason that we lost her. It has failed - as the Hunter has told us."
The shade seemed to be drawing into itself, an ever disintegrating ball of darkness. This was the end. Its existence was dissolving in front of the burning yellow eyes. Nothing could be said in its defence. Everyone waited for the order of destruction. Eventually, the woman spoke
"This - " - she gestured at the dark shape - "Should be annihilated. But - we will not do that."
The amorphous shape began to take form again. A lowered head with flattened ears started to emerge from the mass. Limbs began to appear and reappear as if struggling for life.
"The reason is that this is the only shadow knowing her scent. Its Hunter cannot be there in daylight, so we must use it again. Next time, though," - there was a pause - "there will be no next time."
The shadow was taking form, growing more and more distinct. The ears began to prick forward, the nose to scent the air. The shape, not quite human, not quite animal, emerged from the darkness, shak
ing it off as animal shakes off water. It was now standing upright. The man who was its Hunter stepped forward and summoned it with a gesture of the head, as to a dog. It shadowed the hunter at his heels as they left the room.
"That was - unusual. I have never known her be merciful before."
The shadow crouched at his feet, seeming to want to touch them. The Hunter stepped away from it as if it were a fawning dog.
"Leave that! And get to work. Follow all the main roads from the university, one by one, until you catch her scent. And then – do not lose her again! Send a thought, and I will come."
The shadow sprang eagerly to its feet and darted out of the room and building so fast its Hunter could barely follow it with his eyes. His shadow was known for its extraordinary speed. The Hunter turned around to return to the council chamber. However, just in case, he would start molding another shadow, so it would be ready if the first one had to be obliterated.
The clouds parted and suddenly the bright moonlight poured onto the terrace. The Hunter gave himself a few moments, his eyes locked on the celestial orb. For a short while a vision of her filled his mind. Her limp body in his arms in the moonlight, the only time he had ever been allowed to touch her, to do what was needful. And the feeling of her life inside his body now, wordlessly flowed into his very being. So close, yet forever lost to his physical touch
Something stirred in the Hunter's heart. It was as delicate as the brush of a butterfly's wing, a whisper, a caress, as though she were awake in him, holding his cold heart in her warm hands.
Then his cold body shivered and his heart thumped, once, before settling back into its silence.
He tilted his head back, and from his open mouth came a blood chilling howl that spoke of pain and longing. The voices from the council room hushed.
The moon slipped back behind the clouds, and the moment was over. He stood still for a while, and then walked back to the shadows of the night where he belonged.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
21. Pale Stranger
"What are you doing here?"
I had never heard Mut-Bity's voice so strong, so... threatening before. She rose to her feet and positioned herself behind me, between me and the stranger, a man. All her movements were calm and steady. So steady and deliberate that I knew she was prepared for anything.
"I heard one of my kind might be here and came to claim her. Is this she?"
"Your kind do not walk in the open, under the sun," Mut-Bity said and only a slight tremor in her voice told me she was shocked. And that she hated and feared him, whoever this man was.
"But we do, when the necessity arises," the man said pleasantly, and inhaled deeply, "now, let me see..."
I felt an odd sensation. All the hairs on my skin seemed to be standing up, as though my body was readying itself for escape. A strong tingling sensation ran up my spine. The sizzling numbness felt similar to the feeling of knocking an elbow against something sharp.
"Mmmm..." he breathed in again as if savoring an appetizing fragrance. I heard a slap. I knew that sound. The last time I had heard it was when my sister dipped her finger into a honey jar when Mut-Bity had turned her back for a moment.
Then it suddenly went very quiet. I felt as though the linen cloth over my head was rising into the air where my hair was standing up on end.
"You of all people should have more wisdom than to touch our kind..." the man murmured, but oddly enough he sounded amused at being hit by Mut-Bity.
"I know exactly who you are, and what your kind do," Mut-Bity hissed. "This girl does not belong to you. And I warn you, if you ever come to the same village as I, I shall be ready..."
"And what, exactly, do you think you could do to me? Are you not afraid, woman?" The man's voice sounded suddenly threatening. This, I thought, was how the demons that haunted the desert sounded - it was like the desert winds howling, blowing sand clouds towards the River. "We could kill you whenever we wish. Or worse... make you our servant whenever we wish."
A strong pair of male legs appeared from behind me and stopped in front. Before I could even think what was so odd about them, the linen that was wrapped around my head had been swept from my face and I looked into the most extraordinary eyes imaginable, staring into mine from under the shadow of a hood.
They were golden. Not brown but golden like the sun. Shining, and surrounded by bluish shadows. And the man himself had the oddest skin... pure white, like alabaster, but with a golden tint... I could see bluish veins in his neck, as though his skin was transparent. I could not tear my eyes away from his pale golden complexion.
He looked just like me. Except that I had sky blue eyes.
"I wonder... Where do you come from, my child?" he murmured with a voice that seemed to draw my mind out through my chest. I opened my mouth to answer, not able to resist. And suddenly they were all there.
The whispers. They were usually quiet during the day, or in the bright light, but now they suddenly filled my mind, as though they were whispering in my heart. I could not hear the words, they made a constant, heavy, loud buzzing sound that cut off the voice of the man, as a knife cuts through fruit, so its soft echo did not touch me anymore. And then the whispers reached outwards from inside me, pushing him off my chest, and out of my mind, forming a wall of buzzing protection around my heart.
The man jerked backwards. His mouth opened and a loud hiss escaped his surprisingly wide lips. He sounded like a furious snake. I, hidden somewhere inside the buzzing voices, calmly wondered why he reacted like that. Then I realized the whispers of my mind had taken the form of bees... all the bees from Mut-Bity's beehives had suddenly appeared from somewhere, and were swarming in the air around me. More appeared as I observed their dance in the air. I was sitting inside a bubble of bees. My eyes were still on the blue, dark vein on the man's neck, and I watched as a bee, a strange bee, lighter in color and bigger than the others, followed my gaze and landed on his neck.
"No!" Mut-Bity said with a sharp voice, and I knew she spoke to the bee. But the bee had already stung. Right into that vein.
The man yelled and slapped his neck. He stood back and pressed his neck with agony in his eyes. They had lost all interest in me and seemed to turn darker. His whole skin was growing ashen, grey. It started from the spot where the bee had stung him and slowly spread across his skin. Like a rotting fruit...The sweet smell of overripe fruit that enveloped him grew even stronger when he moved, trying to wipe away the pain.
Mut-Bity quickly positioned herself between me and the pale stranger, pushing me backwards.
"You witch!" he groaned and bent forward, grabbing his throat with both hands, sliding his fingers across the bee sting, over and over again, as if he was trying to stroke the pain away. His mouth opened and I found myself admiring his perfect long white teeth. Saliva started to drip from the wide open mouth and fell at Mut-Bity's feet. She quickly moved away from it, pushing me even further back, so that none of it came anywhere near her toes.
And then he was gone. I did not see him take any steps. There was only something shadow-like moving very fast, like a fading swirl of dust, or as though he was sinking underwater, and then he disappeared. Mut-Bity reached for my hand, to stop me, but I had already reached forward and scooped the small bee from the ground by my side, where it had fallen.
It had broken into two, I could still see its feelers moving slightly, but it was as good as dead. Its sting was missing together with a piece of its body.
"No..." I felt sudden sadness.
The voices in my mind hummed in unison, grieving, and I could feel a small spot in the midst of them that was fading. I had never paid attention to it before, but now that it was going, I realized I had felt it all along and would miss it when it was gone. I suddenly realized I had felt this happening before. Tiny bits of my mind closing, fading, disappearing. And new ones appearing in their place. Had I felt the death of Mut-Bity's bees?
Another hand reached out and placed itself over my palm. The dar
k brown hand of Mut-Bity.
"Go in peace, beautiful soul," Mut-Bity mumbled in a half-singing tone that broke with sadness. "You did well, you saved her soul, and you shall now live as a spirit for ever more."
I felt that small part of the hum in my mind disappear, and it was as if a speck of light disappeared with it. The light only lasted for a short moment, and with it a sensation of ... joy, and then it was gone. When Mut-Bity raised her hand, the bee was dead.
I bent to look closer. I had never seen the like of this bee before. It was white. And it had oddly purplish wings. The bees I had seen had two pairs of wings, but this one had three. They glistened in the sunlight.
I had seen two creatures that were like me, creatures without color. Creatures that I never knew existed - I had believed I was the only one.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
22. A Gift for Mr. Donnelly
With the help of the book and his Finnish friend, Mr. Donnelly was progressing slowly with the Finnish language. It was not the easiest to learn, with all its inflected forms, but Mr. Donnelly was a scholar and he was in no hurry.
"Yes, but we have all the time in the world, don't we?" the Finn chuckled when Mr. Donnelly pointed out how long it took him to learn the language.
"Indeed we do," Mr. Donnelly smiled somewhat sadly.
"Oh come on, lighten up, will you? We are privileged to be able to live here, untouched by time," the Finn said, "Here, look what I got from the world this time! I brought these for you!"
A bagful of wonderful Moleskine notebooks. Mr. Donnelly took one into his hands. He enjoyed the feel of the sleek black covers, and the rubber band that held the covers shut. His eyes filled up at the kindness of the other man. This was the closest to a friend he had ever had, really.
"And here's more! Have you ever even used one of these?"