‘Lemba my dear,’ a voice in her head seemed to smile at her. Her eyes flew open and she looked up in surprise, suddenly aware Varan was looking at her and knew she had been trying to read his mind.
‘It’s really not polite to pry into other people’s minds without permission.’ He smiled at her to take the sting from the words and added. ‘Do not explore too deeply, there is much for you to learn and the power can be dangerous, we will talk more when we stop.’ Sonal turned and smiled at her too and once again, she realised that they both knew she had inadvertently been prying. Closing her eyes once more, she noted that the both twins’ minds were now shut off from her and she could no longer feel their presence, unperturbed, she continued her search. She thought of Rhoàld and his past kindnesses as her probing found him. He was at first hard to read, hard to see, something was stopping her, it was not a barrier like the one that had suddenly shut the twins off but there was something. She tried harder and all at once, she was through, Rhoàld seemed to glow with a pale light and she felt the sadness somehow tinged with joy. Strangely, she noticed a second glowing presence surrounding him, faint and insubstantial but pearly and shining. She touched it and felt the love it held for the man it encompassed.
‘Bastian,’ she whispered with her mind to the ethereal form. Bastian seemed to turn and smile at her before covering Rhoàld once more, so feeling like an intruder witnessing a private act she turned away and sent her probes further into the ether. Jed, Gideon’s father was there, strong and grave. His natural earth magic kept him going, not magic in the way a spell caster would weave threads but in the way of a man who knows and loves nature, of life and natural things, a bird on the wing or a fish swimming against the current to spawn and die in the place it had been born. She could feel his love for the trees and the creatures of the woods, she could see trails of energy flowing out all around him, his blood was of the earth and fields and the same pulses that she had felt in the trees and animals were there in Jed too. So very different from the twins or Rhoàld, different even from my Jed, she thought as she squeezed his middle and wondered at his taut muscles. She smiled as she realised Jed had no idea that she was prying and she grinned to herself as she thought of Varan telling her off the way he had.
The effort it took for her to read people was becoming easier as she continued to practice and again she wished she could share the experience with Jed, as she thought of him, his heartbeat changed and in alarm, she sent herself back into him.
Jed was thinking of his sister and the lies Toby had told him, then what he himself had almost done to Gideon on the strength of those lies, his thoughts were dark and cloudy, full of malice and hatred for Toby, with guilt and loathing for himself. Lemba felt her own mood changing as the strength of Jed’s dark energies spread from him like a virus spreading a nasty fever.
She began to think of Jed himself trying to lighten his mood as an image of her kissing him came into her mind, her licking his lips with a tiny pink tongue, one hand playing in his hair and the fingers of the other running down his chest parting his chest hairs with her nails. Her thoughts became hot and unfocused as she continued, she could see them both naked on a large soft bed, his muscles rippling beneath her. She could feel his energies changing once more as his thoughts joined hers and seemed to take over; Lemba blushed at the ideas that were running through his head. Hastily, she pulled away from his mind allowing his fantasy to run its course. Glad that she had been able to lift the dark depression that lurked so closely beneath the surface, Jed seemed to want to punish himself for not believing in Gideon, she was going to have to watch him she decided. Gideon, where are you? She thought as she sent her probes out again. She could not see him physically as he was on the other side of Jed and she was facing away but she knew he was there with Mayan behind him just as she was behind Jed. At once, her head began to ache and she felt sick, she could not get near to Gideon or Mayan without feeling very ill. Something is wrong, she thought as she withdrew into herself. Physically she pulled away from Jed’s back and tried to draw his attention by touching his hand, tenderly and still in the throes of his fantasy; he stroked her hand lovingly in return. Frustrated and worried she sent her probe back toward Varan.
‘Varan,’ she screamed, unsure of whether she could get past his barriers. ‘Varan, its Gideon…, something is wrong with Gideon!’ Varan’s head snapped round to Gideon, seeing him sitting quietly with his eyes closed with Mayan sleeping soundly against his back as the horse ambled onward, he looked questioningly at Lemba.
‘Why do you say that my dear?’ She heard his voice deep inside her head, comforting and smooth as he replied and he looked deeply puzzled.
‘I feel sick if I try to get near him, my head hurts and I can’t ‘see’ something feels… bad… wrong… I don’t know, it’s just I have this feeling…’ she babbled on as Varan turned to Sonal.
‘How are you feeling Gideon?’ Sonal asked as he studied Gideon and felt nothing unusual in the ether, he walked his horse a little closer to the boy. Gideon lifted his eyes to his friend, blue eyes, dark with pain and suffering, looked back at Sonal and he answered quietly.
‘Me ‘ead ‘urts a bit Sonal, but I’ve not said as May’s asleep. I feel sick again too,’ he added as his skin seemed to turn slightly green and pasty looking, Sonal mumbled a few words and looked into the roots of the magic surrounding the boy; he gasped and looked back at Lemba briefly as a puzzled expression crossed his face. Quickly, he turned back to Gideon and reaching behind him, lifted the sleeping girl from the back of the horse.
‘Wake child,’ he commanded and placed her rather unsteadily on the ground. ‘Varan,’ he called, as he helped Gideon climb shakily down, ‘it’s started, get the box,’ he added as he too, climbed from his horse.
Gideon stood beside his horse swaying and with his head pounding, a solid band drawing closer and tighter squeezing and straining against his skull. The pressure behind his eyes forced him to close them tightly as he feared in his pain they may pop out of his skull like a chick from an egg. His body somehow felt too small for him and his skin too tight, everything hurt. His mouth suddenly filled with saliva and his throat constricted pumping bile from deep within his gut. It stung his throat and began dribbling down his chin as fire licked at his guts, burning him up from the inside out, he fell to his knees and threw up struggling to draw breath as his stomach vented and retched even after it was empty. As the pain drew toward a crescendo Gideon again thought he was going to die and his world began to turn black. Somewhere behind him, above the fierce uncoordinated sounds in his head he could hear Mayan sobbing and Jed, his brother shouting at the elder twins to do something.
‘It’ll be all right boy, yer jus’ need ter ‘old on...’ he heard his father say from somewhere above him as he and the twins worked quickly with the dark wooden planks.
‘Da… ‘elp me…’ Gideon began as his breath left his lungs and he fainted.
‘Jed, it looks like a coffin,’ whispered young Jed as a box began to take shape; he was frightened for his friend and again, reminded of what he had tried to do.
Suddenly Gideon was outside his body looking back, pain free and light, he watched the scene playing out before him dispassionately. The elder twins, Varan and Sonal were slotting the wooden planks together firmly and quickly. Both he and the younger twins had asked what the planks were for as they were loaded onto the hapless horses but had not received any answers and in their eagerness to get home, they had let the matter drop. Now though, with the planks reassembling, Gideon recognised the wooden chest his grandfather had shown him just days ago, the first piece of furniture his father had ever made. As he watched, the scene below him quickly disappeared amidst a chaotic mass of colour.
The colours surrounding his friends were fiery and red with sickly flashes of yellow and green building in depth and hue from the centre, each successive colour growing like a cancerous tumour. The unbalanced colour left him feeling sick in his stomach even though
he knew he was no longer in his corporeal form. Somehow Gideon knew he, he was creating this madness, this angry chaotic disruption in the ether and it was building, growing with voracious intensity, he had never seen such power, had not known that this was inside him and he was frightened.
“By the Journey’, who am I?’ He asked, terrified at the ferocity in which the warring colours were straining for release and for Mayan, her tiny figure almost lost in the anarchic mass below, he could not see her face but it broke his heart to think she would be crying and scared. As the box was completed, he watched in horror as Lemba threw in a pillow and a blanket before Jed and his father gently lifted his unconscious body and laid it inside. Varen and Sonal holding the lid placed it on top of the box sealing the wooden creation closed. I must be dead, he thought, as the lid closed over his body and lay in the road like an elaborately carved coffin.
Lemba watched the scene unfolding before in her in awe, she could see the mass of violent colour and hear the terrible sounds echoing and resounding through her head, bouncing off the people and objects in its way and exploding in her ears. She stared at the others in horror as they rushed about seemingly oblivious to the growing danger. As her Jed took Gideon’s arm, she opened her mouth to scream at him, to tell him to get away, to run away as far and as fast as possible from the horror, that Gideon was becoming. She turned her face toward the horse she was holding and pushed it into the horse’s warm flank, mourning the loss of her tongue once more as she covered her ears with her hands trying to block out the sound as well as her sight. Her teeth sank into her lip unnoticed as she felt the magic pulsing and intensifying with each beat of Gideon’s heart, wave after wave washing over her, drowning her. She could feel herself pulled toward it, an unstoppable power dragging her in as she fought against it clawing and spitting. Silently she screamed for help as she pushed herself harder against the horse feeling the small box sewn into the lining of her clothes digging into her ribs reminding her she was alive herself and not just a part of Gideon’s magic as the music of the song clashed and jarred. Each note screeching for attention, there was no harmony, just inconsonant noise, no tune just senseless sound, a cacophony of discord, with spikes and spears of colour fighting and trying to absorb her very soul along with her newfound magic as it fed off her, adding to the abstract chaos multiplying and expanding around her. The power that was Gideon was alive and uncontrollable as it sought release from his pale and weak form. She was losing herself, losing her battle to remain free and as the blood pounded in her ears and her heart began to beat in time with Gideon’s she tried to reach for Varan.
As the lid closed upon Gideon, Varan felt Lemba’s call and he looked to her in the ether and saw Gideon through her eyes, again he wondered at her power as he sent himself toward her, calming and drawing her soul back into her body. Lemba heard the gentle harmony of Varen’s song through the senseless clamour that was holding her. She tried to draw away from the magic that was Gideon but it held her, the very music of the song had her enthralled, from the chaotic madness to the quiet sleep inducing harmonies of Varan’s tuneful voice. Through the ether, she could now see the completed box with its tightly fitted lid looking so much like a coffin she wondered if Gideon was indeed dead, not thinking that if he had been the pull from his power would have stopped.
The box clearly was a thing of beauty, a mass of carvings and latticework not unlike the carvings Gideon’s grandfather had shown her in the barn at the cottage. Swirls and vines intricate leaves and tiny insects. It shone with a deep rich glow emanating from within the wood itself. The colours still seeped out through the lines of the box and poured through the latticework lid throwing shapes and patterns through the darkness like a skilfully worked panel of stained glass in the sunlight but as she watched, the warring colours gradually became more muted, not so angry, not quite so violent. They were calmer and gentle, easier to look upon and shining softly, the music Gideon exuded now from his subconscious was calm and peaceful, full of life and hope. Pastel colours seeped through the gaps in the latticework lid creating pale rainbows against the darkness, angry reds and purples turned into pale pinks and lilacs, so beautiful that Lemba felt tears ease from beneath her eyelids and soak away into the horse’s coat. Still she could not draw herself away, the power was like a drug, it held her, intoxicating and terrifying yet she wanted more. Slowly as the colour dimmed and the noise began to quieten, her headache eased and she no longer felt so sick. Varan’s song finally caught and surrounded her, she felt herself cut away from the drug that fed her and Lemba found herself again. She smelt the earthy mustiness of the horses coat and tasted the hot metallic blood on her lip from where she had bitten it as she tried to stop the sounds.
‘Let go of the magic my dear,’ she heard Varan’s voice in her head comforting and peaceful and gradually as she released the power she began to cry, soft silent tears.
In the ether, Gideon became aware of the darkness behind and around him, he could feel the existence of souls, lost souls all rushing toward the disturbance he had inadvertently created, a beacon in the darkness.
‘Where am I?’ He asked, still feeling the presence of others, ‘am I truly dead; is this then the start of my journey?’
‘It could be, if you wished it so.’ He turned toward the beautiful soft voice, a young girl stood next to him, she looked as solid and alive as anyone he had ever known.
I’m dreaming, he told himself, knowing the people in the scene below him were the live ones and he was dead. The girl, younger than he was himself was tiny, golden blonde hair fell from her head to past her waist and her eyes were like the deepest pools of clear blue water he had ever seen.
‘Do I know yer?’ He asked, ‘yer do remind me of … someone…’ he added and looking into her eyes, was instantly reminded of the last set of beautiful blue eyes he had almost fallen into, in that particular dream he had been holding his unfinished carving and standing with his grandfather.
The girl before him was wearing a long white and blue robe that seemed to float, giving the gown a dreamlike quality, the gown was a similar robe to the one the old man had worn, only a different shade. The blue of her gown made her eyes sparkle and at her neck, she wore a pendant, a silver amulet holding a piece of crystal that reflected the many colours thrown up by his body far below. Something about the crystal necklace seemed familiar and instinctively he put his hand to his chest where his own crystal hung against his skin. Noticing the movement, she smiled warmly at him. Looking down once more, he was surprised to see how far they had risen away from the people below him.
‘I didn’t say g’bye,’ he said wistfully as he glimpsed Mayan.
‘You did not say goodbye,’ the young girl corrected Gideon’s speech with a smile, as she reached out to stroke his face. Her fingers were cool and insubstantial like gossamer butterfly wings as they brushed his cheek. Gideon smiled at her.
‘Somehow, I know I know yer,’ he said, as his attention was drawn back toward his fiancée far below.
‘Tell your father, ‘thank you,’ the lady said as Gideon began to drift back slowly toward his body.
‘Who are yer?’ He whispered as he began to thin and fade.
‘I love you Gideon, I have always loved you,’ he thought he heard as the world went black once more.
As Mayan watched, her twin and Gideon’s father skilfully tied the box gently between two horses and she felt helpless and alone.
‘Oh Gideon…’ she whispered, her voice full of sorrow.
‘It will be all right my dear,’ Sonal said placing his arm around her and hoping he was telling the truth. He looked over to his brother who was comforting Lemba.
‘I’m not sure how strong you’re magic is, or if you have sufficient control,’ Varen said as he entreated Lemba not to attempt using her magic again. ‘Looking through the ether is not usually too hazardous but it can be extremely dangerous, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing. Stay away from it Lemba, at least until w
e can teach you how to control it.’ Lemba smiled in agreement remembering how badly frightened she had been by the pull of the power inside her and the way it had cleaved toward Gideon as he lay inside the box. At that moment she had felt as if her very soul belonged in his keeping, an idea that she found most unpleasant, she did not intend to lose herself now, not now she had her Jed.
As the company moved on once more, Varan began to sing softly, occasionally Sonal joined in but for the most part the group remained silent, each holding their own counsel.
Jed was conscious of Lemba holding him fast as she sat behind him, he loved and wanted her deeply but as each stride of the horse took him further away from Devilly and the slave pens, his guilt mounted, they were free whilst his family and their friends were captives. Toby, he thought silently renewing his vow. Toby you will pay for each and every hurt they suffer.
Rhoàld travelled at the back of the convoy behind them all, not close to either set of twins and not really knowing Gideon or his father at all, he felt very much an outsider, even with Lemba, but he could see his friend was in love with the young soldier and wished the pair nothing but happiness. He watched her struggle with her newly returned magic and realised it was as alien to her as his was to him. Guilt also plagued him as he looked at her, knowing how she had suffered in the past and knowing his own involvement in that suffering had been great, he had helped, albeit unwillingly, as Gath had tortured the child and it was not until he had lost Bastian that he had actively tried to help her. Before then, he had been too much of a coward. Again guiltily, he remembered that Bastian himself used to help her more, even to accompanying her on her occasional jaunts outside in the city knowing that punishment would be inevitable should Gath have found out. In his head, he saw the day that Gath had first seen her, as usual; he had been standing behind Gath as he entered his bedchamber. Lemba was giggling with her mother and sister as she helped to change the bed, he smiled sadly remembering how beautiful she had been even then and with the sun behind her, she had looked just like Gath’s daughter.
The Tessellation Saga. Book Two. 'The One' Page 15