huge and luminous, like moonlight. Their faces rapt and smooth. Some saw her in passing, smiling. They beckoned her with eyes. Some danced close to her, whipping past, trailing a nebulous hand across her arm, her cheek, her hip. She hardly flinched. The music sang within her.
Joyful and eager to match the chorus that echoed around her.
She wanted to cry. It felt so right.
Like her sometime dreams of visual poetry and haunting melodies. The sprites buzzed her gleefully. The dancers caressed her, urging her to join in their celebration. The music in her swelled and she stepped forward. Into the circle and the dance. Her soul cried with the unmatched joy of something long bound being set free.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part Five
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The forest was not quite as tropical as those he remembered from his term in the Pacific, but it still brought back memories of trudging through a hostile jungle that housed an enemy that knew it considerably better than himself. He felt uneasy, even in the company of the dark assassin, who moved like shadow itself and only stayed visible to Alex to keep him from blundering blindly through a forest he had no sense of direction within.
It was an unexpected consideration.
The climb up the cliff had been hard.
Dusk found an easy route that was still steep enough to have Alex sweating and gasping by the time they reached topside.
They were far enough from the bridge to be unobserved.
Alex was all for rushing back and finding Victoria. Dusk just shook his head, still unhooded and still a little pale and started for the edge of forest. Alex had no choice but to follow. They avoided gnomes. When they did not, he either dropped to the forest floor when Dusk so signaled and waited for the creatures to pass, or waited while Dusk disappeared to silently and efficiently dispose of the enemy. Dusk was appallingly concise.
Dusk wasted nothing, be it words, movement or chance.
Once, Alex was a tad too slow in taking cover and a band of gnomes had roared outrage and attacked. The assassin had merely melted away from Alex and appeared in the midst of the gnomes.
Before they suspected he was among them, half their number had fallen, and when the others realized what had descended upon them, no blade or blow even came close to threatening the dark assassin. Alex watched in awe. He had time for all of five breaths before it was over and he was being beckoned to follow. He ran to catch up, skirting gnomish bodies. All neatly dead. No gaping wounds, no severed limbs. Hardly wounds at all that he could see. He took a few backwards steps, gaping.
Like he had never seen a body twisted in death before.
Like his dreams were not full of them.
But not bodies like this. And not killed with such efficiency.
“How do you do that?” he could not help gasping. Dusk had his hood up, his features hidden within its depths.
“It’s what I am.”
Alex continued to stare at him, feeling a bit pale in the memory that he had thought to subdue this. This creature that thought it was death. “Sorry,” he muttered.
The hood swiveled and the eyes, fathomless and inky with night stared out at him. “Why?”
“It sounds… hard. If this is what you are. I got tired of killing real fast. It hurts too much.”
Very slowly the eyes blinked, then turned back to survey the wood. The night birds cried. The wind whispered in the leaves.
“You have a soul.” It was coldly said and final. Alex shivered. He did not know if it was a comment on his state of morality or a comparison of something he possessed that Dusk did not. He did not feel inclined to speak further.
Dusk disappeared on several occasions, while Alex waited impatiently, returning without word to motion him forward in another direction. They went like this for much of the night. Alex was beginning to feel the non-stop travel in his muscles and bones. It was becoming hard to lightly step over snaking roots in his path, to catch limbs that his companion
Joyful and eager to match the chorus that echoed around her.
She wanted to cry. It felt so right.
Like her sometime dreams of visual poetry and haunting melodies. The sprites buzzed her gleefully. The dancers caressed her, urging her to join in their celebration. The music in her swelled and she stepped forward. Into the circle and the dance. Her soul cried with the unmatched joy of something long bound being set free.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part Five
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The forest was not quite as tropical as those he remembered from his term in the Pacific, but it still brought back memories of trudging through a hostile jungle that housed an enemy that knew it considerably better than himself. He felt uneasy, even in the company of the dark assassin, who moved like shadow itself and only stayed visible to Alex to keep him from blundering blindly through a forest he had no sense of direction within.
It was an unexpected consideration.
The climb up the cliff had been hard.
Dusk found an easy route that was still steep enough to have Alex sweating and gasping by the time they reached topside.
They were far enough from the bridge to be unobserved.
Alex was all for rushing back and finding Victoria. Dusk just shook his head, still unhooded and still a little pale and started for the edge of forest. Alex had no choice but to follow. They avoided gnomes. When they did not, he either dropped to the forest floor when Dusk so signaled and waited for the creatures to pass, or waited while Dusk disappeared to silently and efficiently dispose of the enemy. Dusk was appallingly concise.
Dusk wasted nothing, be it words, movement or chance.
Once, Alex was a tad too slow in taking cover and a band of gnomes had roared outrage and attacked. The assassin had merely melted away from Alex and appeared in the midst of the gnomes.
Before they suspected he was among them, half their number had fallen, and when the others realized what had descended upon them, no blade or blow even came close to threatening the dark assassin. Alex watched in awe. He had time for all of five breaths before it was over and he was being beckoned to follow. He ran to catch up, skirting gnomish bodies. All neatly dead. No gaping wounds, no severed limbs. Hardly wounds at all that he could see. He took a few backwards steps, gaping.
Like he had never seen a body twisted in death before.
Like his dreams were not full of them.
But not bodies like this. And not killed with such efficiency.
“How do you do that?” he could not help gasping. Dusk had his hood up, his features hidden within its depths.
“It’s what I am.”
Alex continued to stare at him, feeling a bit pale in the memory that he had thought to subdue this. This creature that thought it was death. “Sorry,” he muttered.
The hood swiveled and the eyes, fathomless and inky with night stared out at him. “Why?”
“It sounds… hard. If this is what you are. I got tired of killing real fast. It hurts too much.”
Very slowly the eyes blinked, then turned back to survey the wood. The night birds cried. The wind whispered in the leaves.
“You have a soul.” It was coldly said and final. Alex shivered. He did not know if it was a comment on his state of morality or a comparison of something he possessed that Dusk did not. He did not feel inclined to speak further.
Dusk disappeared on several occasions, while Alex waited impatiently, returning without word to motion him forward in another direction. They went like this for much of the night. Alex was beginning to feel the non-stop travel in his muscles and bones. It was becoming hard to lightly step over snaking roots in his path, to catch limbs that his companion
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