Dragging in a deep breath, he sought inner calm and began to stroke the box.
To his relief and surprise, he found the song after only a few tries and the gateway behind him opened. He studied it suspiciously for a moment, looked inside for any sign of threat and finally leapt through. The moment he did so, the gateway closed. He stared at it in consternation, but realized fairly quickly that whatever trouble it represented, at least the gate prevented the death eyes from the other corridor from touching him. He had scarcely stepped into the new tunnel when the blue glow surrounded him as it had when he had stepped through the first gateway.
Having repositioned his shield in front of him the moment the gate closed behind him, Khan peered cautiously around his shield, surveying the new tunnel for the death eyes.
None appeared. He remained still and watchful, certain that they were only waiting for him to relax his guard. When enough time had passed that he began to feel the cramping of his muscles from crouching on the icy stone beneath him, he decided that the death eyes must not be able to reach so deeply inside.
Or perhaps, as the old ones claimed, he had passed the test of fire and been accepted?
He didn’t believe that. The voice was still complaining, making it clear that it watched him still.
Lowering the shield cautiously, inch by inch, he scanned the tunnel carefully. When the red eyes still did not appear, he finally rose from his cramped position and followed the tunnel. This tunnel was short and ended at a hole. Focusing his gaze downward, he saw that there were strange shaped branches embedded along the side in a regular pattern. After glancing over his shoulder one last time, he slung his shield on his back and shoved his long knife into the sheath also strapped across his back. Sitting down on the hard surface, he tested the odd shaped protrusions and discovered that they did not bend beneath his weight.
Realizing that they had been carefully placed to help in climbing, he began a slow descent, pausing now and again to study the dimly lit tunnel below him for any new threat. He could see flickering light below, almost like firelight dancing in the wind except that the colors were different--blue, white and yellow. He reached the bottom without further incident, however, and paused as the blue glow began to brighten the area around him, making the harshly flickering lights that crawled along the walls dim by comparison.
It was a single room, he saw, somewhat larger than the main room of his lodge, perhaps twice as large. In the center of the room rested a strange object that looked to be made of ice or crystal such as the people occasionally found in the Eirt, but far larger than that, nearly as long as he was lying flat, nearly as wide as his shoulders were broad. The dancing lights reflected off of it, and yet he could see even from where he stood that there was something inside.
Curious, he moved closer.
He had covered perhaps half the distance between the standing tunnel and the object when the voice surrounded him again.
“Beginning final phase.”
He jumped, freezing in his tracks and searching the area swiftly, expecting to see the death eyes once more. When they did not appear, he relaxed fractionally and returned his attention to the crystal.
Smoke filled it, hiding what he’d glimpsed before.
Dismay filled him. He strode toward it quickly, certain the fire would consume whatever it was before he had the chance to see it but he realized almost immediately that there was no heat, no sign of flame--only the smoke.
Frowning, he reached out and touched the surface. It was cool, not cold like ice, but smooth, unlike the crystals he had seen. The hard shell of crystal retreated from his touch, drawing upward, like a threatening hand. He stared at it hard, wondering if this was some new threat, watching to see if it would move again. When it didn’t, he flicked a gaze toward the hollow that had been revealed.
The smoke swirled and writhed along something pale and pink. His attention caught, he stared unblinkingly as, inch by inch, the flesh of the creature emerged from the swirling mist and he found himself staring down at the most beautiful, perfectly formed woman he had ever seen in his life.
His heart seemed to stop dead in his chest for several painful moments. He found himself holding his breath as he allowed his gaze to drink in the smooth, flawless, almost poreless skin, the curve of hip and thigh and the deep red of the triangle of hair that covered her woman’s mound, the narrowness of her waist, the rounded globes of her breasts. The same dark red hair curled around her still face, winding like a vine along her body and ending near her ankles.
Slowly, the wonder dissolved, driven back by the realization that she could not be real. It could not be anything but a likeness of a woman, he decided, carved from some lustrous stone. After a moment, he scrubbed his damp palm against the skins of his loincloth and lifted his hand to touch her. He almost jumped back when he discovered that her flesh was warm and supple, not cold and hard as he’d expected.
She was not only real, she was alive. It could not be otherwise or she would not be warm to the touch. After a moment, he lifted his hand from her arm and stroked her cheek, feeling his heart beginning to pound once more as he felt the softness of her skin, her warmth.
But he frowned in confusion. She slept the sleep of the dead. She had not stirred at his touch. He could not even see that she’d drawn breath.
Finally, he nerved himself to lean closer, to see if he could hear what he could not see, breath.
He was almost nose to nose with her when she opened her eyes and stared up at him with unfocused eyes. Her lips parted and she dragged in a long, slow breath.
Startled, he straightened abruptly.
A duet of low growls greeted the movement and Khan felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck lift. Very slowly, he turned to face the menace that had crept up behind him while he stood staring in helpless awe and adoration at the goddess he had discovered at the heart of the temple of the gods.
Chapter Two
Khan had never seen the likes of the two creatures that had hunkered down threateningly not ten feet from where he stood, looking as if they might leapt at him at any incautious move. They were two of a kind. Each had a head nearly as big as his. Each, although crouched, their limbs drawn up closely to their bodies, seemed to be as long as he was tall, and very likely was of a similar weight, as well, or possibly heavier. Each was covered all over with short, light brown hair that grew close to their bodies. And each opened their mouths in a parody of a smile to reveal a great many wickedly sharp teeth.
Ever so slowly, Khan began to move his hand toward the hilt of his long knife. His fist had scarcely closed about the hand grip, however, when something soft and warm closed over his hand. A jolt went through him, but he didn’t dare take his eyes from the threat before him.
“Heel, Sachi! Nomi!”
A mixture of relief and warmth spread through Khan at the sound of the musical voice that had uttered the words, warmth at the pleasantness of the sound, relief that the beasts instantly became docile, sitting back on their haunches and staring at the space beyond his shoulder as if awaiting further command.
“Who are you?”
Khan slowly turned his head at the question, but he didn’t particularly relish the thought of turning his back on the beasts. The goddess, he saw, had sat up on her knees to face him. “It’s all right. As long as you don’t threaten me, they won’t attack.”
Khan frowned. He didn’t like to doubt the word of a goddess, but he didn’t have a lot of confidence that the beasts wouldn’t pounce the moment he presented them with the target of his back. “I am the chosen one,” he said flatly, because he wasn’t at all certain that he was, and he didn’t particularly care for the idea of lying to a goddess.
“Really?”
He heard movement behind him and realized the goddess was struggling from the crystal that had entombed her. “Jesus fucking Christ! Why is it so cold in here? And where the hell did all this hair come from?”
She uttered a gasp and sprawled
headlong on the floor beside him.
He glanced down in consternation and saw that her glorious hair had tangled around her legs. Keeping a wary eye on the beasts, he knelt beside her, grasped her arm and helped her to rise.
“Shit! No wonder I’m so damned cold. What happened to the clothes I was wearing? How long have I been in the bio-pod, anyway?”
Khan looked her over curiously, wondering why she was angry, wondering why she seemed to be asking him questions--as if he was supposed to have answers. All he had were questions of his own.
“I am not Jesus fucking Christ,” he responded apologetically. “I am Khan, and I do not know the answers to your questions.”
She blinked at him several times, slowly, and began to chuckle. Khan didn’t particularly care for the fact that it seemed to be something he’d said that had set off her amusement, but he liked the sound of her laugh. Warmth blossomed in his belly and he had to fight the urge to smile back at her.
Waving her hand at the two great beasts, she dismissed them. “Sachi! Nomi! Go!” When they had retreated to the far end of the room, beneath the tunnel, Khan saw with some uneasiness, she looked him over with interest. “So--you weren’t sent to wake me, were you?” she said in a chiding voice.
Uncomfortable beneath her frank, knowing stare, Khan shrugged. “I am the first to pass through the gateway in memory. If there were others, it was long ago, beyond even the memory of the Speakers.”
“Speakers?”
“The elders who keep the stories of the people and pass them from generation to generation.”
She looked dismayed and he felt uneasiness move through him again, wondering what he had said that had disturbed her. After a moment, she seemed to dismiss whatever it was that had disturbed her and began to struggle with her hair. When she’d disentangled herself from the wild mass, she tossed it over her shoulder and began to stride purposefully about the room, touching the walls. Khan watched her, perplexed, and even more uneasy when a low hum replaced the deafening silence of the chamber. The blue glow disappeared. It was replaced almost instantly with blinding white light, brighter even than the sun. He stared down at his arms in dismay for several moments, fully expecting the flesh to begin to cook from them. Nothing happened. He didn’t even feel warmth from the light.
Realizing finally that he had no reason for concern, he dismissed the wonder of lights brighter than the sun that did not burn and allowed his gaze to follow the woman hungrily, wondering if she actually was a goddess and would make his manhood wither if he so far forgot himself as to seek her favors.
“What name may I call you?” he asked finally, wondering even as he did so if it was allowed for him to address her without first being addressed by her.
She glanced at him over her shoulder before returning her attention to the strange squares of light along the wall. “I am Dionne. That means divine queen. In mythology, she was the mother of Aphrodite, the goddess of love,” she said, smiling at him in a way that made his heart stammer erratically. She went silent abruptly, tapping one of the squares. “This can’t be right,” she muttered.
Curious, Khan crossed the room to stand behind her and leaned closer, peering at the object that held her attention. He could see nothing about the strange, dark lines that should upset her, however. “What is it?”
Her head whipped around at the question. Khan hadn’t realized how closely he’d leaned toward her until she did so and the tips of their noses brushed. Disconcerted, they moved apart.
It seemed to take her a moment to gather her thoughts. Finally, she tapped the square crystal with the strange markings. “According to this, I’ve been entombed here for almost a thousand years. This is wrong. It shouldn’t have taken more than a couple of hundred at the most. God only knows if any of the materials are still viable after this length of time--if that’s even accurate. I certainly don’t.”
Khan stared at her. He hadn’t understood half of what she’d said. It wasn’t because of her strange accent. Most of the words she’d spoken up until then had made sense in his mind. The words themselves were strange to him and he could put no meaning to them. There was one part of her speech that he thought he did understand though. She had said the gods would know, but she didn’t. Did that mean she was not one of them, he wondered, feeling a surge of hopefulness. “Which god?”
She blinked and then frowned. “Uh, I didn’t actually mean god. It was just a figure of speech. Didn’t you hear what I said?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t understand, though, do you?” she asked shrewdly.
He felt his face color with embarrassment, abruptly feeling like a child who couldn’t entirely understand the conversation of the adults around him. He dismissed the urge to lie, however. “No.”
“Never mind,” she said soothingly, lifting a hand to stroke his cheek. “You can’t be expected to.” She studied him thoughtfully for several moments. “You’re an intelligent fellow, though, aren’t you? You couldn’t have had the security code, but you figured out a way in.” She looked him over from head to foot. “And not a scratch on you.”
He stiffened as she examined him curiously but with a marked lack of passion--reinforcing his impression of before. After tracing the totem tattooed on his cheek and studying him with a strangely intense look, she appeared to dismiss it. Lifting one of his arms, she studied his hand and fingers, testing the flexed muscle of his upper arm. Dropping the arm to his side once more, she ran her palms over his chest and belly and finally squatted down in front of him to examine his legs with the same curious, almost detached, interest as she had his arms.
Two conflicting emotions washed through Khan like a tidal wave--desire--and anger as it dawned upon him that she was examining him in the same manner that he examined the nay beasts they captured to tame. When she stepped around behind him and he felt her hand squeeze one of his buttocks, he whirled abruptly, catching her wrist. “I am not a beast,” he growled threateningly. “I am a man.”
He’d forgotten the two beasts that guarded her. At his tone, or his sudden movement, they growled ominously in threatening chorus.
Dionne merely stared at him in surprise. “And you are a most handsome, wonderfully made …uh … man,” she responded in a soothing voice. “Besides being such a clever fellow. Teeth?”
Furious by now, he gritted his teeth at her, curling his lips back in a snarl.
She patted his cheek. “Good fellow. Very nice teeth.”
The comment and her careless caress knocked the wind from him, making speech impossible. He glared at her, fuming, but she dismissed him after a moment, tugged her wrist free of his grip and moved back to the wall to stare at the strange, shifting lines again.
Khan would have departed then to lick the wounds to his pride except for several minor problems. One, the beasts now lay beneath the tunnel he’d come in. And two, he couldn’t recall if the singing boxes had been on the inside of the gateways as well as outside and didn’t particularly relish the idea of trying to hold the two beasts off while he struggled with the singing boxes to get out.
Most importantly, as wounded as his pride was, he was loath to leave the gift the gods had left specifically for him, however disconcerting a creature she was, and he wasn’t at all sure he could get her past the snarling beasts without leaving some of himself behind.
Of course, he had long since ceased to believe in the legends or the gods the people worshipped, but that was entirely beside the point. Goddess or not, annoying or not, he wanted the woman. He’d found her and he wasn’t going anywhere without her.
She sighed finally. “Everything looks fine, as hard as that is to believe after all this time. Evidently they did a far better job than anyone imagined.” She glanced at Khan. “I’m cold,” she complained, moving toward him again and grasping the lower edge of his loincloth. “I don’t suppose you have one of these, or perhaps something a little longer that I could have to cover myself? The clothes I was wearing fell apart from
age and I expect everything else is in much the same condition, unusable.”
He stared at her a full minute while her question sank in and produced the answer to his dilemma. He relaxed fractionally, feeling a smile tug at his lips as he realized he wouldn’t have to figure out how to get her past the beasts. “At my lodge.”
She smiled at him hopefully. “And food?”
“Yes. Skins to keep you warm and plenty of food to fill your belly.” Until he could fill her belly.
She seemed to consider for several moments. “But no sanitation to speak of, I’m thinking, certainly not what I’m accustomed to. I’d have thought humans would have bounced back far better than they appear to have.”
He frowned at the unfamiliar words she used. The sadness that came into her eyes disturbed him even more. “Uman?”
“Human,” she enunciated very slowly and carefully. “Yes, that’s what you are.”
He didn’t particularly like being corrected, especially not in that tone, which implied that he was a simpleton. He gave her a narrow eyed look. “I am Unan, of the Kota nation.”
“Mmm, well the language has been corrupted a lot in the past several hundred years, but, the correct word is human.” She looked thoughtful for several moments. “Kota? Lakota, maybe? You look like you could be a descendant of some of the first north American people, which I don’t mind telling you I find curious. Very curious. We had expected the races to mix and individual racial characteristics to disappear. I will have to do some research before I proceed--well, I would anyway, but this is something we hadn’t expected.
“For now, we seem to be communicating reasonably well, all things considered. Will you take me to your lodge now? Oh, and I’ll need to speak with the –uh--headman? Leader?” She frowned. “Chief?”
“I am Chief,” Khan growled irritably.
Her face brightened with pleasure. “Oh! Well, this has turned out far better than I would’ve expected considering everything that went wrong,” she said brightly. “If you could just give me a few minutes? I suppose I’ll have to grow accustomed to bathing in natural bodies of water, but I’d as soon make use of the facilities here before we go.”
Twilight's End Page 2