“I haven’t yet decided.”
By his tone I know that is all he wants to say. None of these people are to be argued with. I’m not sure whether it is the fact that they always speak with such confidence and intensity, or it could be that some of them are apparently thousands of years old; but whatever it is, I’m not going to argue.
He takes off my handcuffs before we walk through the house. I pass a window through which I see Briston’s entourage trek through the snow under umbrellas. Several black sedans sit outside along the driveway. They wrap their arms around themselves to keep warm in the below-freezing temperatures. From under one of the umbrellas, Briston looks up and his eyes catch mine.
“Where will they go?” I ask.
“They will call a meeting of the Powers to determine what we should do with you.”
“Oh, is that all?” I whisper as Arek grins.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
When night falls on the house, from the room where they let me stay, I can see very little beyond the black windows. Tender snowflakes still lightly drop on the ceiling—not enough to accumulate, but just enough to crystallize the edges. It has been three hours since they led me here to sleep, and two hours since I figured out that sleep will be nearly impossible.
A natural wood dresser sits across the room and my bare feet pad the floor with a small ache in my arch. My shoulders feel tied to my ears and my calves are sore from my knees down, but I want to find something lighter to wear to bed. Should I open something of Arek’s without permission?
I am worried about it until I open the first drawer. Every article of clothing belongs to a woman. My hands push through stacks of folded shirts and pants, colorful in nature and feminine in size. The small drawers at the top are both for bras and panties.
A strange headache starts from the stress in my shoulders, so I rock my head from side to side trying to release whatever the tightness is. My body aches deep within as I envision Arek and a woman living together in this room, and I try to quickly banish the thought.
Just to escape any more digging, I grab a black shirt with long sleeves, and throw it on.
When finally sliding into bed with the lights off, the stars cover the heavens in a diamond studded display that is so unusual for someone from the city. It is a fight to fall asleep, but finally after several attempts at counting the bright planets, the expanse of it all sweeps me into a dream.
So many people gather in Arek’s home as though a party is taking place. Yet the living room seems a bit less mid-century modern and a bit more just mid-century. People sit about with glasses of wine in their hands laughing and carrying on. I stand with a group of women in a dark A-line dress. Beckah is there as well as Elizabeth. I can see Sassi and Kilon across the room in the kitchen.
Even Briston is there beside a beautiful woman, her blonde hair cascading down her back. Suddenly the room quiets and Arek enters with a large wrapped present in his arms. He lays it down in front of me and as he walks past, his hand casually runs along my waist.
I rip at the paper, revealing a painting of the Swiss Alps. The blues and grays in the painting are breathtaking.
Arek smiles as he runs his hand down my hair.
My body jumps to wake me. It is still dark, yet the moon backlights each piece of furniture with shadow. The painting, the party . . . Arek . . . haunt me. There is a nagging feeling in my gut telling me where the painting might be. I quickly get to my feet and make my way through the room.
The hallway is lit by a small night light in the electrical socket. Somehow, I know where to go. I don’t know how, but I do.
Down the hallway, then the stairs, to the right, then another right, and straight ahead is a reading nook made with large down pillows, shelves, and a modern lamp with an arm extended from the wall. My shaking hands pull the lever and when the light splashes on the wall it displays the painting in my dream.
I suppose that in some way I had hoped Arek and the others were wrong about me. In fact, maybe they had gotten the wrong person, yet I know this painting of the Swiss Alps. It is the same from my dream.
“What are you doing?” I hear the strong voice from behind me and swiftly turn.
Instantly, when seeing Arek, I realize that part of me wants this world because he’s in it. Yet what do I say to him?
“I know this painting,” I tell him.
His shoulder brushes my arm for just a moment when he comes closer.
“How do you know it?” he asks. Is that concern or hope in his voice? With Arek, this is a fine balance.
My body is electrified as my eyes survey it again. “You gave it to me.”
There is nothing but silence until he finally breaks, “How do you know?”
“I dreamed that you gave this to me,” I whisper. My hands press my temples attempting to somehow accept all of this. “There was a party in this home. Briston was standing with a woman that I know. I recognize her.” This is not good news, which he clearly shows. “Who is she?”
“No one,” he answers.
“If you continue to lie to me, I’ll never be able to trust you. The blonde woman is familiar. Somehow I know . . .”
“Know what?”
“That she’s my mother.” He rubs his temples just like I did. I feel his pain. This is all too much. Too confusing. “If she’s my mother, then where is she now? Why isn’t she here just like Elizabeth? Don’t lie to me.”
“She is your mother, but she died.”
In both worlds my mothers are gone. “I thought she was Velieri?”
“We can all die. Just because we are Velieri does not mean we are immortal. It just means it’s more difficult for us to die.”
“She was holding Briston’s arm in my dream. Why would she be doing that?” He doesn’t answer the question, but the color in his face turns darker. “If that’s my mother . . . in your home?” My cheeks are burning and for the first time in all of this I’m angry when he won’t respond. “Arek! Whatever memory you’re afraid of—it has started!” I raise my voice, surprised by my own confidence.
He looks deep in thought, but before he can speak, a woman’s voice prompts us to turn. “So, you’ve remembered something?” Sassi is no longer as intimidating in her cotton pants and T-shirt when she enters from the kitchen with a glass of water in her hands. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Arek, but I heard you from the kitchen. And I thought maybe you could use some help.”
“I won’t stay here if you don’t start telling me something!” There is fire from my fingertips to my cheeks. “I have a life to go back to.” My chin quivers so I back off.
Sassi shakes her head.
