"Impudent pug! I can destroy you at any time. Lightning for your metal friend I think—"
"Actually," Capek volunteered, "I am a carbon-based polymer of—"
"And for you, Bogle," the Sorgina continued, "fire…slowly, so that I may watch your flesh bubble and peel off one layer at a time."
Tattie bent down and dug through Cris's pocket. She removed a light stick and stood, holding it above her head. "Be gone, slave of Caval Du Mal, or I shall unleash this wizardry from Earth upon you!"
The voice in the dark only laughed a wicked laugh and thunder echoed throughout.
Tattie bent the plastic tube, breaking the glass vial inside, and shook it as she had seen Cris do. Instantly, the brilliant blue white light exploded from the small cylinder, and a bubble seemed to form around the three of them. The piercing voice screamed, and the black cloud rolled back from whence it came with equal the speed with which it had advanced.
Silence now enveloped them; no wind, no distant echoes, and no voices.
"Madam, should we remove Cris to a more protected location?"
"No, Capek, let's stay in the sunlight."
Cris was unconscious. Capek touched Cris on his neck, forehead, and arm and concluded all Cris's vital signs were normal. Cris was in REM sleep, Capek reported, and suggested they wait for him to awaken rather than force him from such deep slumber.
Tattie sat on the street next to Cris and examined his features. His sleep was peaceful, one of the few times she had seen him so.
She and Capek heard the voice simultaneously. It came from a dark doorway off to her right. "Ta—tea."
"You heard that, I take it, madam?"
"I did."
Again, the voice called, "Tattie—come."
She rose, and she and Capek took a few steps toward the doorway. "No!" The low hollow voice boomed, and then whispered, "Tattie."
She looked at Capek, nodded, and proceeded on alone.
She peered into the dark room beyond the doorway. There was nothing to be seen, just a dark, windowless, empty room. The air inside was dank and stale. There was another doorway that led to a long, dark hallway. It looked foreboding, like looking down the throat of some hungry beast.
"Hello?"
No response came. She took a few hesitant steps inside. "Hello?"
"Tattie Bogle." A distant voice was just audible, speaking low and slow.
"I am she."
The room then seemed to take a deep breath in, the wind from outside whipping her long, braided hair over her shoulder. A pause, and the room exhaled just as forcefully, and with it there came a deep sigh. Then the voice spoke again, slowly, from some deep unseen place. "We've not smelt the blood of a Bogle in generations."
"Who are you?"
The wind moaned through the cavernous building and dead leaves stirred in the corners.
"We are the unhappy denizens of this forgotten ruin. We are the dead whose memory has been consigned to oblivion."
"I am sorry for your plight, my friends, and I mean you no harm or disrespect. Please, release my friend on the ground and we will be gone."
A deep throaty sound came forth from the dark hallway and the sickening smell of decay accompanied it. "You are sorry? You do not know the meaning of sorrow!" Silence fell for a moment, then, "Aid will be offered where aid is given. Mourn for us, Tattie Bogle. We desire you to discover our names and restore us to living memory."
"If we live through our travails, I will try."
"Be warned, Tattie Bogle—a promise to the dead is an eternal bond. With your pledge, we will hold you to your word, even beyond the veil of death."
"I promise to try. I make no promise of success."
A sort of low growl rattled up from the depths. "We will be watching."
"What meaning will my success hold for you?"
The voice hissed one word, "Peace."
"Then you are well vested in the success of our journey."
"Enemies of the Sorgina vest themselves to us," the voice said. "Your companion suffers not from our doing, but by a spell placed on him by the Sorgina. She found great pain and sorrow in his mind, as did we. To break the spell, he must suffer both pain and pleasure within the same moment."
"How do I—"
"Go now! Be gone—depart. Souls cry out from the plains of Dort, where blood will soon flow thick and warm into the ground—" The voice trailed away, and was gone.
Tattie backed slowly from the room and returned to Cris and Capek. She explained to Capek what the voice told her.
"Pain and pleasure within the same moment?" Capek considered the dilemma. "I can provide him a mild electrical shock that will be quite painful. I am at a loss to see just how he will derive pleasure from that particular experience."
Tattie looked down at Cris. This was becoming a greater puzzle than she had anticipated. Pain and pleasure, but how?
Tattie sat on the street next to Cris. "Capek, when I tell you to, give Cris a good jolt someplace that will hurt but not injure him."
"The large muscles at the top of the posterior of his legs would seem ideal, madam."
"All right then, do it now."
Capek extended his right index finger that, unlike the others, was capped in a copper colored tip. He jabbed it into Cris's left gluteus and discharged a jolt of electricity. The instant he stopped, Tattie leaned in and kissed Cris. As she did, Cris's arms began to move. Slowly, he raised them and entwined them around her. He returned her kiss with a degree of passion that surprised Tattie.
Tattie felt warmth generate on his lips.
Cris's eyes opened, slowly. He quickly rose up on his elbows and stared into Tattie's eyes. Tattie knew her face displayed the same bewilderment as did his.
"What are you doing?" The words escaped his lips before his mind was fully engaged. Then suddenly, the pain in his butt demanded attention. He leapt to his feet, holding his left cheek, and seemed to do a little dance.
"Ouch! What the hell is going on here?"
"I hope you don't think that I was—" Tattie took a breath and looked indignant. "I did what I had to do to release you from the spell. That's all, gimba!"
"Spell—what spell?"
Tattie crossed her arms on her chest and strode away. Cris turned to Capek, and she heard him ask what was going on.
Tattie heard Cris's footsteps approaching. She did not turn to face him.
"Tattie, I'm sorry. Capek just told me what happened."
She turned quickly to face him, her arms still crossed. "Women of Earth don't kiss the men of Earth often?"
"Well, sure. I guess so, why?"
"Do Earth men always respond to kisses with harsh words of incredulity?"
"What?"
"Was my kiss so detestable to you?" She felt her ears becoming hot and was aware that her eyes were darkening.
"No, no! As a matter of fact—Tattie—it was the best kiss I've ever had."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes, it's just that being a gimba, I was shocked to awaken to you—you know—that close."
"The best kiss you ever had?"
"Yes, Tattie."
"I continue to allow you to lie to me. I do not know why." She stormed a few steps back toward Capek, retrieved her pack, bow and quiver, and then rounded again on Cris. "Let's go gim—Cris."
○O○
They trudged the rest of the day through the crumbling remains of Galdo Heirya in silence. Cris was reminded of pictures he had seen of London after the second World War.
They were walking now in a column—Capek in the lead, navigating, followed by Tattie, her arms still folded, and Cris bringing up the rear. The quiet was punctuated by the intense silent treatment Tattie was showing him.
Cris just couldn't understand. He decided to try and step out of his current emotional state and consider the situation coolly. Okay, Tattie pulled my fat out of the fire again…this time, she saved me from this Sorgina person. She broke the spell, or whatever affected me, and she's mad at me be
cause of—my lack of appreciation? No, that isn't the problem. She told me what the problem was—my reaction, or what she perceived as my reaction, to her kiss. What was it she had said? I had responded with "harsh words of incredulity."
A picture began to form in Cris's mind. His inability to socialize was haunting him again. She was right. No woman could be expected to come away from what appeared to be a flat rejection any differently than she had. How was he to fix this mess? He was clueless.
Late in the afternoon, they reached the far wall of the old citadel and simply walked over a pile of rubble and through a huge breach over a hundred meters wide. Beyond, Cris noticed the soil: it was clay. It was all that remained of the suburbs and generations of families. He could see pot shards, the remains of baskets, small statues, and Bronze Age-looking tools.
Not three hundred meters from the collapsed wall, they reached the wood line just as the sun was setting. They were still in their column formation, and Tattie was still upset with him. Here, Cris spoke for the first time in hours. "Is anyone else hungry?"
"I do not experience hunger, Cris," Capek said.
Tattie simply stopped, sat on the ground, and began opening her pack. Cris sat close by. She looked up and said without making eye contact with him, "There is not sufficient food remaining for two."
"Well, let's both eat some beteko og and drink some of the Geld breath North hook."
"It's Geldneth Nordthok. Be precise."
"Well—ya see Tattie, that's my problem. I don't have command of the language yet. I sometimes slip back into Earth-speak. I realize that my ignorance can be painful, and for that, I am very sorry."
"So—you don't mean what you say?"
Cris's combat instincts smelled a trap. "When startled or surprised, I am at my weakest. However, when I have time to consider my remarks, I say what I mean and mean what I say. I will not knowingly lie to you, Tattie, ever.”
"Have you kissed many lawberow?"
"Women?"
"Yes."
"Tattie, I'm no Romeo, but I've kissed a few."
"I see." She still was not looking at him. "This Romeo, he was a great lover?"
"No. He possessed a great love for only one woman. He died for her love, and she for his."
"Did you know him well?"
"No—I only read about him, and saw his story depicted on stage."
"Stage?"
"It's a play. Actors relive the events in the play for entertainment."
"So sad a story seems a poor entertainment." She then looked at him for the first time in hours.
"Tattie—I really am sorry. I did not mean to offend you. Had you not joined me, I'd have died that first night in the forest."
"Oh, I don't know. If you recall, I did not join you until after you had defeated the morka."
"You joined me only after you looked into my being."
She looked at him again, her expression blank. Slowly, she turned her head a little from left to right and back again, but her eyes never left his. Then she cut two pieces of the beteko og. They both ate. Tattie took a drink from the leather bladder and handed it to Cris. He swallowed a mouthful and felt his muscles restored, his strength return. Tattie's eyes resumed their normal color, but her demeanor did not seem to change.
"You just told me you've kissed few women, so when you told me mine was the best kiss you'd ever had—it was not really much of a compliment, was it?"
"What I said was I'd kissed a few, not that I'd kissed few."
"I see, then you have kissed quite a few, several, a great many."
"Well—no. You're twisting my words on me."
"No, Cris, your language is twisting itself."
"Oh, geez!"
"Is that an oath?"
"No, it's a substitute oath."
She shot him that look again, the one that said, I told you so.
"Oh, come on!" Cris raised his voice a tad. "I suppose you've never kissed anyone in your life!"
"Oh, I have. My mother, father, uncle."
"What about boyfriends, lovers?"
"No, Cris. I loved a young fellow two rotations ago. He was killed by a Lautmen for sport on the very day we were to—"
"To what?"
"Amaday."
"What?"
"We were scheduled to join, to express our love to one another, and, thus, become one."
"I'm, ah—I'm sorry, Tattie. It's none of my business. I'm sorry."
"None of your business?"
"I mean my concern."
"Do I not concern you?"
Cris paused trying to think. "You do, Tattie. I am very much concerned for you."
"Then my story is your business. And, as I am concerned for you, your story is my business. Let us keep going. We have one moon, and I can see clearly."
Cris got to his feet and stood looking at Tattie.
"Are we ready now?" Capek asked.
The three continued on deeper into the woods. These were not nearly as dense as those that first night. A great deal of moonlight filtered down through the branches to illuminate the scene around them. Even Cris could see clearly enough to keep up, though he did constantly snap twigs, brush against limbs, bump against bushes, and stumble over rocks.
The hour was late. The full moon was near the zenith. Cris guessed it was at or near midnight. The elixir staved off fatigue and all kept walking. Tattie had fallen back a bit, placing herself closer to him. Still, she did not look back or speak, and as always, her movement through the forest was silent.
Tattie and Capek stopped abruptly, staring up ahead where Cris could see only darkness. He froze. He knew that his movements sounded to Tattie like an elephant crashing through the bush. She slipped back to him. "Cris," she murmured low, "there is a noise up ahead. Remain here. I will see what causes this noise."
"Be careful."
She looked at him and cocked her head. "Of course." Then, in a flash, she was gone, as quietly as a puff of wind.
Only a few minutes had passed when she returned, moving in a far more relaxed manner. She came directly to Cris. "Ahead of us is a natural spring, the sound Capek and I hear, that you do not, is the water gushing up into the pool from its bottom. Here, we will stop for a time, refill the bladder, and I will cleanse myself."
"Cleanse yourself?"
"It will take only a few minutes."
Ten minutes later, they arrived at the spring. The side of a hill looked to have been scooped out and in the bottom, a pool shimmered in the moonlight. All around the pool were large black boulders.
They advanced toward the pool from high on the side of the hill when, without warning, Tattie stopped Cris. "Stay here. Just ahead is a cliff. With your poor eyes, you may fall. Sit here and wait. Capek, go to the peak of this hill and keep watch.”
In no time, Tattie was at the bottom among the formation of rocks. Cris, who could see quite well enough in the moonlight, had moved to the edge of the cliff. He looked down at the water, but saw no sign of Tattie. A few minutes later, he heard a splash. He got to his feet and looked down. There, in the sparkling waters, swam Tattie. She was again be klided. Cris stared. He knew he shouldn't, he should look away—but he could not.
"Cris?" Tattie called out. Cris spun around to face away from her. She must have seen him.
"Yes, Tattie?"
"Can you see the pool?"
"Yes."
"Come down and approach the waters from the base of the hill."
As Cris walked down the side of the hill up to the pool's edge, Tattie swam up very near him. He could see she had released her hair from its braid. Her hair glistened in the moonlight. The hair still in the water flowed about her dream-like, forming an undulating frame around her face from shoulder to shoulder. "Cris, there is a gently flowing spring over there from which to refill the bladder. Once you have done that, I would very much appreciate it if you would slip into the water, as well."
"What?"
"Cris—I'm asking you to bathe—please. Seems I
can't be delicate with you, can I?"
Oh, my God. I’ve not had a bath in days. I must smell awful.
Cris filled the bladder, disrobed behind a rock, and slid carefully into the pool. The water was quite cool, but not cold. He began to vigorously wash himself.
After a time, he considered himself cleaned, so he turned to exit the pool. He heard movement in the water behind him. He turned to see Tattie paddling toward him, the light of the moon glistening off her wake in the otherwise ink black water. "Thank you, Cris," she said.
"I'm sorry—I must have smelled terrible."
"You smelled of musk. Female Ahs Dormis would quickly detect you."
"Musk?"
"Yes, Cris. It appears you are in season."
"Season? I don't have a season, I'm partial to fall, when the leaves start to—" her meaning struck him like a meteor. "Ah—we Earth men don't—we're in season all the time."
"So it would appear."
Cris blushed violently. "So…you people have a season?"
She turned from him and started to paddle away. She looked over her shoulder, smiled and said, "No."
Cris swam after her; she glanced back, and with an incredible burst of speed shot like a torpedo to the other side of the pond. She stopped, turned, and treaded the water. She let him know there was no way he could catch her.
Okay, a little game of cat and mouse is fine by me.
Cris reached out and swam as hard as he could toward her. When he arrived, she was on the other side again. Then, she submerged and very quickly resurfaced, barely rippling the water to his right.
Again, he swam toward her as fast as he could. When he stopped at the rock where she had floated, she was again gone. He heard her giggle, felt that flush of warmth, and pivoted in the water. There she was, in exactly the spot where he had been. The moonlight shone off her wet hair and face, her eyes seemed different, still large, and beautiful but—they were only half open as she looked at him.
"You're a water nymph," he said to her.
"Is that a good thing?"
"I don't know, you're the first one I ever meet."
She slid under the water again.
"Hey, where are—"
She surfaced immediately in front of him, not fifteen centimeters away. She moved so fast and appeared so close, it startled him.
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