'The star formations,' he whispered, 'they're more or less the same as when we're back in the city, aren't they? Perhaps they're out of sync a little.'
'I've not noticed,' Beami replied. 'I've not spent too many evenings out here on my own.'
Perhaps it was a soldier's obsession for these things but, after studying the stars further, he became convinced of their location. 'We're actually in Villiren. This is still the same place. We're just at a different point in time.'
Beami said nothing for a moment, then, 'That makes sense. The topography has been reasonably identical and we're near the coast still. There are those higher cliffs sheltering the natural harbour, just like in the city. How far back in time do you think we are?'
Their conversation continued in such speculation until Lupus drifted into sleep, leaving Beami to regard the stars serenely.
*
She didn't know how long she had been staring upwards when a block of the sky began to change texture. The wind altered fractionally, calming a little, then the stars in one quadrant became obscured by some massive translucent presence. In a precise shape looming above, a huge oblong the size of a small town, the stars became hazy, almost vibrating, and then were blocked entirely by something that was darker, more textured. Wind gathered momentum, the trees in the distance fizzing, and birds burst cover, startled. Beami's heart beat rapidly, but she was too stunned to wake Lupus. She merely stared dumbly upwards.
An utter silence fell as the presence loitered in the sky above some distance from the ground. How far away it was, she couldn't be sure, but for a moment it did appear to be a town of sorts, because it reminded her of the windows seen nightly in the city.
And hardly had this entity appeared when it disintegrated into nothingness, leaving the starscape exactly as before. She eased herself away from Lupus's sleeping form, and for the next quarter of an hour she paced the nearby meadow, all the time craning her neck upwards waiting for the shape to return.
*
Their affair was locked safely in another place, another time, another dimension entirely. But now they were back in her house, in Malum's house, the guilt came storming into her mind, like a raid on her senses.
Lupus tried to nuzzle against her neck, offering a comfort too far. With the tips of her fingers she traced the crispness of his uniform. He was so organized and neat for such a laid-back personality, so well groomed. The army must have taught him this discipline, she decided.
Suddenly Beami pushed him away and said, 'Not here, not while we're so exposed.'
She couldn't even meet his eyes. Over his shoulder she could see the snow descending outside the window, nothing like as harsh as it had been, but still a constant reminder of the troubles everyone in this city faced.
'What's wrong now?' he growled.
How could he not understand, despite all that she'd already said? 'Don't you even care if we get caught?'
'Not really, no.'
'Well, I do, OK. It's my life that could be ruined.'
'I could be your life, Bea. Me alone. Once I'm finished here in the city, I'll quit the army.'
'You're already married to it. With me you're cheating on your marriage too.'
'I'll quit, just after-'
'The war, I know,' she interrupted. 'After the war in which nearly everyone in this city might die. Do you think I want to give up everything just for the promise of a man who might be killed at any moment? Can you even begin to understand the consequences of that?'
'Why say all this now? We've talked about this before.' Lupus placed a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off.
Why did you join the army in the first place? she wanted to say. Why do you still have to be a soldier, the second time you invade my life?
Footsteps approaching outside. Her heart missed a beat as she shoved him away, whispering, 'Malum.' Lupus nodded his comprehension, moving further from her.
The door opened and in stepped her husband, a hessian sack in one hand, his gaze settling on them from within the darkness of his raised hood.
Beami felt as if her whole life was about to implode.
Lupus saluted him. 'Sele of Jamur, sir.'
Malum stood there in his mask – something she once regarded with awe, but now found ridiculous. Still in the doorway, he was assessing the situation he had walked into.
'What're you doing here, soldier?' Malum growled.
Lupus's voice maintained a perfect calm. 'I'm visiting as many of the establishments around the Ancient Quarter as possible, briefing them on the potential hazards that may soon arise. There may be a possibility for rehousing, should you consider it safer.'
'The hell we will,' he grunted; then to Beami, 'This man hassling you?'
'It's no trouble. I understand what a soldier must do – for the good of the city.'
'Whatever.'
Lupus then addressed Malum again. 'Do I recognize you, sir?'
'I doubt it.'
'Sir, madam, good day.' Lupus nodded to them both. He left Beami alone with her husband.
She tried to remain looking utterly calm.
'Fucking soldiers.' Malum closed the door. 'Think just because this city's under threat they can get away with anything.'
'Do you think we've anything to be worried about?' Beami tried to meet his gaze, as if showing she had nothing to hide.
He pushed back his hood, placed the sack on the floor. 'Nothing at all. You're safe here with me, right?'
'Right. What's in the sack?'
'Thought we deserved a decent meal tonight…'
'That's very kind.' It pained her even more to see how he was making an effort to be nice to her. Seeing him like this it… just made her want to at least try. Was she mad for risking herself in this situation? Surely she should take some control of her emotions.
She was a cultist, after all! She was meant to be this powerful woman who could utilize ancient technology, and here she was being so… pathetic. This was not her. This was not who she was.
*
Malum and Beami ate their food between stifled conversation. At least this was better than another row – something they had recently become expert in. They began arguments that referred to older arguments. There was immediate context in the delivered insults, which inferred moments from the past. There were words used that brought to mind rooms and events, distant images from their increasingly broken relationship.
Tonight he was trying so hard to put aside his machismo, his posturing, his elaborate and competitive boasting. For once his mask was in some other room. In moments like this she could see her husband as she remembered him when they had first met: him articulate and genuine, but from herself: brief responses, mixed with pangs of dread. Eventually his gaze travelled across her body, as if she was some prize he couldn't win.
In a pause during the meal, she noticed him sip from a vial when he thought she wasn't looking. Some concoction brewed by that witch?
Matters moved on to the semi-darkness of the bedroom, where he began his ritualistic attempt at making love – while guilt ravaged her – his body silhouetted against coloured lanterns. 'I reckon I can do it tonight,' he breathed in her ear.
He removed her clothing in the usual fashion – nothing new here – first lifting her outer garments off quickly, then getting down to her underwear. He kissed her neck: stubble on her skin. Her own guilt and his predictability soon removed any sense of excitement.
She closed her eyes and thought of Lupus.
