reminded her of candle flames. They flickered with colored light and shifted shape as they spoke.
The tallest, brightest being spoke in somber tones. “We made a grave mistake opening portals on Earth, helping some Earthlings while ignoring others. We’ve done irreparable damage to the Earth beings and will no doubt face council censure.”
A second being, this one with a coppery glow, angrily flared upward. For some reason, Larisa was certain this being was Darron.
“That’s not true.” Darron’s words weren’t actually spoken by a mouth but his voice clearly addressed the other. “Earthlings are eager to learn. They show more promise than any group we’ve ever contacted. They are special, and possess a tenacious strength of spirit we could learn from. They know things we don’t. Deeper partnering with Earthlings could evolve into a relationship of equals.”
“Equals?” The tall being indignantly expanded in size until he glowed white-hot. “How would that be possible? Asteria is a world of pure thought and abstracts. If we agree upon it, it manifests. The people of Earth are still stabbing each other with metal and scratching in the dirt to survive. We are
“Pardon me, Elder, but you’re wrong,” Darron insisted. “I’ve observed Earth for a millennium. You wouldn’t believe how difficult and short men’s lives are. Every day they’re mired in hardship but their hearts and minds are noble. They’re intelligent and have high aspirations. To endure all they do, I’m certain the creator who made us all granted them something extra. They do many things we do but in limited bodies that feel great pleasure and deep pain. They face death as an unknown. Unlike us, they have no idea what comes next. They embrace each harrowing moment of life knowing there may never be another.”
“Darron.” The flickering Elder cooled his light to a pale golden glow. “The Asterions have been on Earth for too long. We’ve taken the form of beasts and men and walked among the people of Earth. In the early days, it did no harm, but humanity has reached a crucial point and must now move forward on its own, if it is to move forward at all. We should step back and observe the seeds that have already been planted. If Earth is worthwhile, we can return someday and teach them something more.”
“It’s not all about us teaching
The Elder balked. “Where is the merit in that?”
“You’ve never taken a body. You don’t know the many lessons Earth could offer us,” Darron persisted. “We’ve been going about our transactions with Earth all wrong. If I am allowed to use the island portal one last time, I’ll try to master the many difficulties of becoming a man; take my chances in a human body and relish what lessons I receive.”
“It is too great a risk.” The Elder flared upward again. “Your life on Earth will be short and uncertain. The island’s condition is precarious, molten rock is roiling beneath it as we speak. It will not last much longer. Maintaining the island’s labyrinth portal placed humans in unnecessary danger. That’s why it was sealed to the world years ago within the enchanted fog.”
“I don’t care if my Earth life is brief. A single day in a body would be worth it.”
The Elder loomed taller still and flickered an angry shade of red. “But there is an even greater danger to you. If you bond with Earth, your spirit may become trapped in the soil indefinitely. It is possible you might never return to Asteria. Century after century I’ve waited in vain for the return of many young Asterions. Your own sister Hathor stubbornly continues to reside in Egypt. When one of her physical bodies dies, she immediately takes another. She has birthed generations of Earthly children and is now so strongly bonded to Earth that I fear we may never see her again. Your brother Brahma has all but disappeared in the east and also shows no interest in returning to Asteria.”
“Is that your worst fear, Elder? That my siblings and I will stay on Earth and never come home?” Darron’s flame flickered warmly with what felt to Larisa like compassion. “Asteria is perfect. Nothing changes here. There are no challenges left to be conquered and I know there is much more to learn elsewhere. Earth can be harsh, but it is a good teacher. Please allow the Minoan portal to be opened one last time.”
“No,” the Elder said. “There is no sense in provoking an already unstable situation. Anything you might teach the people of Minoa will only cause a greater imbalance with their neighbors.”
“Or it could speed their progress in ways that benefit all,” Darron pleaded. “Elder, it’s already too late for me. I’ve fallen in love with Earth. For a thousand years my spirit has beaten a well-worn path to the island. In my thoughts and dreams, I go there endlessly. I can’t even image using another portal.
“In the island’s last days, may I be given permission to take physical form if a human who needs me comes to the island?”
“Darron.” The Elder’s voice softened on a sigh. “You know it’s more complicated than that. The council will consider granting permission for a final trip to Earth…within strict limitations. You would be allowed one purely human incarnation but that body will be as vulnerable as anyone else’s. As an Asterion, you would be able to manifest physical matter, but I ask that you rely on your wits and abilities to inspire instead.”
“Thank you.” Darron flickered brightly.
“There are no guarantees.” The Elder’s light cooled to amber. “Your time within the labyrinth will be lonely. The island has been emptied of people. Incorporeal guards have been put in place to protect the portal until the island’s demise. The guardian priests will be your only company. It’s entirely possible your spirit might remain trapped in the labyrinth without a physical form for months or even years. Without the proper blood rituals and grounding, you might never receive a physical body. During your time away, you could lose your place of honor on the Asterion council. Are you willing to journey to Earth and take that chance?”
“Yes.” Darron’s voice rose. “Send me now.”
Chapter Three
Larisa awoke to the sound of a rumbling growl. She gasped in alarm, bolted upright on the straw mattress and stared at the unfamiliar surroundings of the torch-lit labyrinth.
“You’re finally awake.” Darron stirred beside her. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back down. “I was just thinking of home and feeling restless.” He patted his abdomen. “There’s a strange emptiness inside.”
A low growl grumbled again. She realized the rumbling noise was her own empty stomach. “We’re hungry. I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
“I haven’t eaten ever.” He chuckled. “I was waiting to share my first meal with you.”
She glanced to her right and saw several clay amphorae and a platter brimming with fresh fruit, bread, olives and cheese. She sat up again and impulsively reached for a pear. “This is a welcome surprise. I’m starving.” She bit into the juicy pear, savoring its sweetness.
Darron sat and also picked up a pear, brought it to his lips and bit it nearly in half. The large chuck lodged in his mouth and stretched his jaw wide. Juice dribbled down his chin as he tried to bite the unwieldy portion. He looked startled and froze, seemingly at a loss as to what to do next.
“Chew smaller bites.” She smiled at his dilemma. “Be careful, don’t breathe in and swallow food at the same time.”
It appeared to be too late. He choked a bit and his eyes watered as he grimaced and swallowed. Darron spit out the uneaten portion of pear with a gasp. “That hurt. Eating looks so simple, yet it’s not.”
Larisa reached for an amphora, which she hoped was filled with water, and passed it to Darron.
He held the amphora to his lips and drank. A trickle of dark wine escaped the side of his mouth. “
“Go lightly with the wine, especially since you’ve not had it before. You might want to start with water.”
“I tried water.” He took another long drink. “I prefer wine.”
She watched with amusement as he drank. Every few moments he looked directly at her with a sleepy, sexy expression. He appeared young, perhaps a few years older than her. His large, dark eyes were luminous, reflecting just the slightest hint of something otherworldly.
