Crossroads with Half the Information Page 4

  He could tell her a liar, or maybe time ran different in the place where Elizabeth came from. He knew nothing about it.

  “I’m Isabella.”

  He watched her pull up her knees to her chest and put her arms around them.

  “Elizabeth died a long time ago.”

  Tears ran down her face. Tears he wanted to dry.

  “May I, uhm, comfort you?”, asked Byrid.

  His hurting cheek was forgotten. She had thought she had to defend herself. Somehow that pleased him more than the instant trust of her mother.

  He waited for an answer.

  When she didn’t answer, he moved closer, back to the place he first sat.

  She didn’t react or fight back.

  Carefully he pulled her into his arms and leaned back against the smooth wall. He caressed her back.

  Elizabeth was dead and her daughter, Isabella was his wife. Isabella. What a beautiful name.

  Byrid tried hard to comprehend. Even when time ran faster in Elizabeth’s world than here, she should have aged not died, right? Something bad must have happened.

  Something he couldn’t change, he reminded himself. He had to explain to Isabella that she had to stay with him forever.

  Isabella. The name felt like a breeze of wind running through his fur.

  She hadn’t shown any reaction at the mention of the country name. Either she knew, or more likely, she was still shocked of being here.

  Byrid looked at his ring at her ring finger. Did Elizabeth give it to her before her death? They had a lot to talk about.

  Isabella felt the arm around her, and the hand caressing her back. Up and down, up and down. Like her mother had, when she had hit her knees as a child.

  The man, Byrid, she reminded herself, held her on his lap and comforted her. It was the first time for years that she cried over her mother and her family. Here in this strange cave with the foreign man who called himself heir of the griffin world. Whatever that meant. At least he hadn’t hurt her and seemed to accept her slap in the face and biting him as rightful self-defense.

  He smelled of metal. She knew that scent, but from which place?

  How could anybody not wearing a metal armor smell of metal?

  Isabelle inhaled the air. Besides the metal smell there was a warm male scent mixed in and the dusty smell of a rocky cave. Wherever she was, she wasn’t in her bedroom anymore. And his kiss probably helped her out of the void she had been trapped in.

  “The stars of the griffin world will guide you”, said her mothers voice in her memory. She had told Isabella, when she had stitched the first star on the black tissue. Did she embroider her own portal?

  Isabella blinked until she could see the gray rock wall of the cave. Irregular and rough. She looked down to the arms that held her. Muscular, dark brown arms. She looked up to the shoulders where there were the sleeves of the copper-colored shirt with hair falling down on it. Finally, she looked into his face. Black hair fell loosely around it in soft waves. He didn’t show a hint of a beard. He smiled. A smile that invited her to kiss him back.

  She better did not. He could either think it was an invitation or repay her the same way she did. But his lips had felt wonderfully warm on hers.

  “Next time I won’t slap you. Promised”, said Isabella.

  “That’s wonderful, because my family awaits us at our wedding ceremony”, said Byrid.

  “What?”

  Isabella pushed herself away. Pressed with her palms against his chest. A warm chest. One she had, seconds before, found a good place to snuggle against and hide from her grief.

  She didn’t get the distance she wanted. His arms around her held her back.

  She looked into his eyes. Brown and dark as old wood. Nearly black. But not quiet, thanks to the little light in the cave. Some came from someplace behind her. Some still from the ring at her hand.

  “Let me go!”, ordered Isabella. “I’ll not marry a stranger.”

  Byrid chuckled but didn’t let go.

  “I let you stand up if you promise not to jump into your death. The cave is about four steps deep and the rock balcony in front not much larger before there is a nearly vertical side down the mountain.”

  Isabella furrowed her eyebrows. A mountain?

  She nodded and Byrid removed his arms from around her.

  She stood up and turned around. One side of the cave was open to a blue sky. Only a few steps away. She slowly stepped out. She had no desire to die.

  Behind her, she heard soft steps following her. A cold wind blew into her face. Her nightgown moved around her legs and her uncombed curls flew into her face. She pushed them behind her ears and looked around. Mountain peaks and mountains were all she saw. And the little rock she stood on. She didn’t go to the edge. She could see from the entrance of the cave that there was a deep valley. She wouldn’t survive the jump.

  “Did your mother tell you about me?”, asked Byrid from behind her. Somehow he sounded insecure.

  Isabella shrugged.

  “I can’t remember. There is so much missing since my family died”, said Isabella.

  She sobbed.

  So many years she had told herself and everybody her family was gone. Never using the word death. But here, with the stranger in this strange place, she admitted it to herself. Her family wouldn’t come back. Never. And she did still search for puzzle pieces in her memory she felt she needed but didn’t know why.

  “Today’s my twenty-fifth birthday. The ring came with snail mail yesterday and the note to only open it on my birthday”, said Isabella. “My guests are waiting. I put it on my ring finger.”

  She held her hand closer to her face to study the image on the hexagon plate.

  “I pushed the blanked of my bed aside. The next thing I remember was being stuck in the void with the sparkling stars I embroidered as a child all around me and the ring glowing.”

  She felt the warmth coming from Byrid as he stepped closer behind her. A solid presence she had a feeling she could lean against. He would support her. She knew it, without knowing why.

  “I gave Isabella my ring ten years ago, when she was here during the summer. Pregnant with her first child”, said Byrid. “She had appeared out of nowhere in this cave, like you, and wasn’t from my world. At the end of summer, after getting the ring she vanished without a trace.”

  Isabella pressed her lips together. She had read tales about portals, transporting people into different timelines or places. But those were usually at a specific place and surely not in her bedroom.

  “How can I go back?”, asked Isabella.

  “I don’t know”, said Byrid. “And I’d rather want you to stay. You’re married to me since the moment you put the ring on your finger.”

  Marriage. There was the word again. And her mother had always had the ring hung from her keyring, and said it was a key.

  Isabella sighted. Byrid looked nice enough, and she felt safe with him. Should she stay and accept? Back home was nothing waiting for her except her birthday party with co-workers and acquaintances and some friends she was close enough but not really close. None of them knew where she originally came from.

  “What if I vanish like my mother did?”, asked Isabella. She would hate to start a family only to lose it again.

  “I hope you stay. We can search in the archives and ask the scholars for help”, said Byrid.

  Isabella nodded slowly. The plan was as good as anything she might have come up.

  “So. Let’s go then, shall we?”, asked Byrid, gently placed her next to him and got on his feet.

  “I didn’t see a way down”, said Isabella. She didn’t have acrophobia but the thought of climbing that mountain down, without proper climbing gear and a security lane? She’d rather not. The thought let her shiver and she stayed where she was: Sitting on the rough, cool rock floor of the cave.

  “You can fly with me”, said Byrid and walked out into the open.

  Isabella wanted to say something and o
pened her mouth.

  Byrids body changed. He got on all four and wings grew from his back.

  She gasped and clapped her hands before her mouth to stifle a shriek.

  His head became huge and a thick mane formed around him. Fur covered his whole body, looking copper-red in the sunshine outside. Like the fur she remembered from her dreams. And the feeling of safety she already knew from them. Did she come here while sleeping? Enjoying cuddling with a flying lion or something.

  “Griffin, Isabella. I’m a griffin”, said Byrid. “In my original body I can hear your thoughts, because you are my wife.”

  Isabella didn’t move. He heard her thoughts? Oh my, then he knew about her dreams?

  Byrid nodded.

  “Come. Climb on my back”, he said and lowered his wings invitingly.

  Isabella slowly let her hands sink. She was dreaming. Surely she fell asleep again and was dreaming.

  Byrid laughed.

  She pinched herself in her upper arm.

  It hurt. So either no dream or a very realistic one.

  “I’m real. Come. Please. Our guests are waiting”, said Byrid.

  Isabella stood up and dusted her nightgown off. What would they think seeing her in that dress at the wedding? The wedding wasn’t what was making her most nervous. More serious was the question: Did Byrid like her? At least a bit?

  She walked closer and climbed onto his back. His fur was as soft and warm as she remembered from her dreams. Instead of metal he smelled more like warm metal mixed with dusty stones.

  She laid over his back, and held herself to his body with her arms and legs on both sides. Snuggling into his fur, she felt like coming home. Deep inside she knew she loved him. Maybe the stars were always meant to bring her to him.

  Isabella smiled and enjoyed the wind brush through her hair, when Byrid took off into the air.

  Byrid felt Isabella hold tight. He had heard all her thoughts about the dream she had, her doubts and finally her feeling safe and loved.

  Did he love her? He didn’t know but for sure he cared a lot more for her than he had for any griffin girl ever. Or her mother. He wanted Isabella to feel treasured.

  Surprisingly he wasn’t mad being married to her. He felt happy and flew a few somersaults.

  “I love you Isabella”, shouted Byrid into the cold wind before heading down to the ceremony hall.

  Isabella giggled when Byrid flew somersaults. Her hair fell all around her, and she didn’t find the courage to open her eyes. But it was fun.

  And then he roared and said he loved her. Her, the stranger, who she married herself to by accident. No matter how little she knew, but her heart told her this was right.

  They would find a way to stay together.

  THE END

  Love as a Christmas Present

  The golden circular pendulum swung at its chain in the same rhythm it always had. From left to right and from right to left. Back and forth. Never touching the walls made of black stone on the sides. Having always a fuzzy golden reflection that pulled all attention on the pendulum. The front was closed against dust and time with a transparent material. One whose name got lost in the past, like the creators of the whole machine. Only the shadows hovering around the black stone, never really coming into sight, never materializing, watched it swing back and forth. They waited for the slight moments where the golden surface of the circular end changed its surface from smooth and solid to rough and soft. One moment, they could see through to another world and another reality. Sometimes one of them got pulled through the transparent material into the image of the other world.

  The shadows whispered all the time. Words nobody could understand. Feelings and wishes.

  They couldn't remember why they were at this place or how they came to it. Nor did they have something, anything to do. Except, watching the pendulum and waiting for another chance to leave the place. Getting a chance to discover something new, colorful and, maybe better.

  The shadows longed for those images that filled their fantasies with ideas that dulled shortly after they vanished and the pendulum returned to the smooth golden surface they usually stared at.

  Forgetting everything was common.

  Yet, Eliné refused to forget.

  Eliné remembered her name. Remembered having once walked over green grass and that it had smelled like the cool rain falling upon it and soaking her dress. Changing it from soft and lightweight to a heavy, clingy mess that pulled her down and down and down, until the only thing she could remember was her name and the walk through the cold drops of water raining down on her.

  She hovered near the pendulum ever since. Knowing the other shadows around her and at the same time not remembering anything they ever communicated with her. To what end? She needed to remember her name and cling to the spark of hope to be the next getting a chance to leave this place.

  Eliné listened into the silence. Looked into the emptiness except for the black rectangular cubicle with the golden pendulum. Watching the reflection appear at the black rock sides as it swung from left to right and from right to left.

  Sometimes it was different. Sometimes new shadows appeared among them. The pendulum didn't change in those instances. It simply continued swinging, but nonetheless, a new shadow was there. She knew it without looking. There was a sense of addition to the shadows around her. A slight feeling of less space.

  In those moments, when new shadows got added to them, she remembered the coldness of the water drops more clearly, could feel them splash on her head, accumulating until her hair was wet enough, so the water ran down between her braids. Cold and chilly. Then, onward over her neck and into her dress. Her shoes sinking into the wet meadow and the dirt clinging to it, making each step forward a bit heavier, more exhausting.

  As soon as the pendulum swung a few more times, the feelings, the memory, faded.

  Eliné clung to her name and to the rain and the green meadow.

  She had tried to touch the transparent surface. Nothing had changed. She hadn't been able to reach through. She had pressed her shadowy self against the stone sides. She felt nothing but a border she couldn't pass. She couldn't even press herself tight enough against the sides to feel pain or pressure.

  The shadows she had experienced leaving had been here longer than her. They had lost all their memories in her opinion.

  How long, until she could leave this place?

  So far she had always been someplace in the crowd of shadows. Watching, observing, waiting. But waiting for what? The shadows who got to leave had been standing in the front.

  Eliné weaved through the other shadows. She could hover straight through them. She had done so before, and found out, each time she did, she lost a piece of her precious memories. Each time another did it with her, she lost one too. Pieces she didn't get back, when a new shadow appeared.

  Pieces she desperately needed, to remember who she was, besides Eliné.

  Finally, she hovered right in front of the transparent border, shielding the pendulum from the shadows.

  When would be the next time, it changed from solid to soft, from golden to a picture of the world she wanted to return to?

  The shadows around her were closer than in the distance, where she had been for however long.

  She remembered counting the swings of the pendulum in the beginning. She lost track of it after a thousand swings or so, when other shadows hovered through her. Now she started counting again. She wished the other shadows away. Despite her wish, they were tighter together around her.

  One hovered through her.

  Her name was Eliné. She had been walking and it had been wet. There was more to her memory she wanted to remember. She knew. But what?

  Another hovered through her and some more against her.

  What was it she wanted to remember? There was no memory worth remembering here. Everything got lost. Nothing lasted.

  Except her name. Which was El.

  The surface of the golden circle mov
ed like the surface of water after a stone fell in. Through the waves she saw a man with black hair and a bright smile on his lips and in his eyes. He looked straight into her eyes.

  The shadows around her touched her, ripped at her last memories. She wanted to keep them, tried to get forward, away from them.

  The transparent surface gave way. Something pulled at her, pulling her to the man in the pendulum.

  Shouldn't there be a landscape? Something green and blue?

  Was this the pull to go back into her world? Or did she finally forget the last of her memories?

  What was a memory?

  The sun burned hot onto Robertos shoulders. The thick jacket over his shirt was too hot for the summery weather. Somehow the weather hadn't realized it was December and it should be cold and snoy. He didn't think it would become this warm today, after winter had officially begun. There should be snow on the ground. Snowflakes falling from the sky and clouds all around. Instead, the sky was as blues as during the hottest days of summer and the temperature was equally high. Despite that fact, the weather forecast had said it would snow in the evening.

  Roberto didn't believe it yet, but it didn't matter. He could take off his jacket, but then he didn't have his hands free. Thus, he would continue to sweat and walk on, pushing the cart with the presents for Christmas to the little house in the forest clearing, where he and his brothers usually celebrated Christmas.

  His younger brothers and sisters were entertaining their parents today, and he had gotten the task to prepare the Christmas house.

  He kept walking over the beaten path and sighted when he reached the forest border. Walking among the pines and even among the naked trees which already lost all their leaves, would be more comfortable. They would at least provide a bit of shadow and cool the air around him.

  Roberto put down the pushing cart and stretched before entering the forest. The fields behind him were empty. Ready for ice and snow to come and cover them. Let the soil rest until warm spring sun rays thawed it again.