Slowly, as if in a dream-state, Liz Parker began to kneel on the cold, unyielding concrete floor.
Isabel moved languidly on the silken sheets, extracting her limbs and stretching. No, not Isabel. Vilandra. Her long, tapered gray fingers were exquisitely formed, fit for royalty, fit for worship.
A pleasant-smelling wind blew in from over the black vastness of the sea, and the room was faintly illuminated by the glow of teke orbs, as well as from the trio of moons that were set like jewels into the dark, cloud-strewn sky. Vilandra tilted her head back and viewed them through the rain-sprinkled skylight. The wet, colored glass fractured the moons' perfect spherical shapes, but somehow augmented their natural beauty.
She heard a sound from the antechamber, then saw a figure illuminated from behind. It was N'Kolus, and he had replaced some of his garments, apparently while she'd dozed.
'You should get some rest,' she said to him, low and seductive. 'You don't want to be too tired for tomorrow. “
He sat on the bed next to her and caressed her hand with his own. She could see her beautiful reflection in his large, dark eyes. 'You have already tired me,' he said. 'But tomorrow will bring with it a new dawn. “
He leaned over to kiss her, and Vilandra lost herself in the passionate moment with the handsome soldier.
She heard another sound, and she broke their embrace with a start. Another figure was standing in the entrance, holding a chalice before him. 'I see I'm interrupting,' the person said, and Vilandra recognized the voice as Kivar's.
Vilandra looked toward N'Kolus, who seemed to take Kivar's surprise entrance in stride. 'Kivar, I didn't expect you so soon,' she said.
'My other engagements this evening are finished,' he said, doffing a wet cloak and letting it slip to the ground. 'Everything went according to my plans. “
He sat on the edge of the bed and offered her the chalice. 'Don't be alarmed, my beautiful Vilandra. I knew of your affair with N'Kolus, and gave him my blessing to continue. Anything to make you happy. “
Vilandra drank deeply from the cup, and smiled at her two lovers. 'What will make me happy is for peace to come tomorrow. The truce you promised will lead toward that goal. “
'Yes,' Kivar said. 'And thank you for allowing us to enter the city unopposed, my exquisite Vilandra. “
'My brother won't approve, but he acts too slowly sometimes,' Vilandra said. She was about to say something else, but she found her thoughts were becoming unclear.
'Your brother is past caring what you do, lovely one,' Kivar said, caressing her cheek with his hand. 'As is Rath. “
Vilandra was about to ask Kivar what he meant, but she wasn't able to speak. She felt weighed down, and as she looked at the two men who had been her lovers, she saw them as if from a distance. Above them, the colors of the skylight became more and more diffuse, and even the ever-constant moons of Antar seemed to dim.
And then, the hues of skylight faded to darkness, and Vilandra was no more.
An eternity of darkness seemed to pass before another voice impinged on her mind. 'Isabel? “
With a great effort, Isabel lifted her head. Crouched next to her was Alex Whitman, looking just as he always had: comfortable.
'Isabel, you need to wake up,' Alex said. 'Lemme sleep,' Isabel said, her words thick and slurred. 'I'm tired of running. “
'I know, but you have to keep running,' Alex said. 'Things are going to get worse, and you must try to help.' He didn't touch her, but rather hovered nearby, his words soft and gentle in her ear. Alex had always been so pleasant and plain and safe. How can he be talking about danger? Isabel struggled to marshal her energies enough to sit up, but discovered that her limbs were twitching spasmodically, as if she were being electrocuted.
'They need you, Isabel,' he said, his face showing concern.
'Who does?' she asked groggily.
'All of them,' Alex responded. 'Your friends. Your family. Your husband. “
'That was pretty wild,' Kyle said as he followed Max and Michael out into the service corridor. It was clear to Kyle that Max was beside himself with worry, and hoped his own Zen-like calm would rub off on him.
Michael, however, seemed way past the reach of any Buddhist vision of tranquillity; he was obviously ready to go to war.
Quickly scanning the corridor, Kyle saw that it was empty in both directions, except for some flattened cardboard boxes lying along one of the walls, next to a few-scattered bags of trash and packing foam. He pointed down to their left, where the corridor angled around a corner. 'That's the direction the girls would have come from. “
'We've got to see if they made it,' Michael said, already dashing for the corner. Kyle wondered if Max felt relieved when his friend took the lead at times like this. He was certainly glad that he wasn't the one who had to make all the decisions for the group.
Max and Kyle followed immediately behind Michael, both sparing brief glances over their shoulders to look for pursuers. A moment later the trio rounded the corner.
They saw the girls, along with a pair of federal agents. Isabel and Maria lay unmoving on the concrete floor; while one agent was putting handcuffs on Liz from behind, another agent kept a powerful-looking gun trained on her.
Kyle turned toward Max and Michael and saw that they were both extending their hands forward, obviously about to unleash their powers.
Suddenly the agent who held his gun on Liz turned and shouted to them. 'These girls are alive for now, but if you make any threatening gestures, I can't guarantee they'll stay that way. “
'What do we do?' Kyle asked, putting his hand on Max's shoulder.
Suddenly everything changed.
Kyle was seeing the corridor from a different angle, and as he turned his head, he saw himself looking back… at himself. 'Max, what do we do?' other-Kyle asked, even as the very same words were leaving his own lips… Then he was in the clothing store, watching himself sweep fragments of shattered glass from his fuzzy purple sweater top; he noticed that one of his long, lacquered nails had broken during the explosion… Next he was looking down at Liz's hands as he knelt over her and fastened the handcuffs around her wrists… A heartbeat later he was looking down his arm at the gun in his hand as he pointed it at the frightened trio of teenage boys, one of whom was him, Kyle Valenti… And then he found himself in utter darkness. He crawled forward along an unyielding surface toward a dazzling light that made him squint. The brilliance quickly resolved itself into Isabel, who lay on the service corridor's hard floor; she looked beautiful as always, yet disturbingly lifeless.
A nearby movement caught his eye, and he turned to see a shape emerge from the surrounding darkness. It was Alex Whitman. Who had been dead now for nearly two years.
'Alex?' Kyle asked, incredulous.
Alex tilted his head and looked at him strangely, almost as though he were having trouble recognizing him. 'Your voice sounds like Max's, Kyle. “
'What's going on?' Kyle needed to know.
'You need to help Isabel. Her nervous system has been disrupted,' Alex explained, crouching beside the young half-alien woman.
'I can't help her,' Kyle said. He knelt next to her and pulled her head up in his hands, then cradled her neck in one hand and pulled open an eyelid with the other.
