Oh, my God! the writer cried inside, speechless with delighted shock — all she could manage to squeeze out was a gasp with a joyful whimper at the end. She heard the cheering of the voices that softly aided her when writing, and, in fact, advised her at all times, above the sound of her own erratic triumphant thoughts. ‘Thank you soooooo much.’ The writer’s brain and tongue finally connected.
‘My pleasure,’ the agent assured graciously, before going on to request two more copies of the manuscript to send off to potential publishers.
By the time the writer got off the phone she was floating on air and her husband, who’d been eavesdropping on the conversation, was walking around the lounge room with his fist clenched in delight, cheering, ‘Yes! Yes! Yes!’ He grabbed up his wife and twirled her around a few times. ‘You did it, babe! Good for you!’
‘Good for us!’ the writer corrected, without knowing just how right she was about that, given that her husband was just about to lend his interest in 3D graphic art to design the cover artwork for her book.
It had all been arranged with his muse, a technologist from the future whom Tory had yet to meet. She had been introduced to the writer’s husband’s Oversoul, Lenny, who was a charismatic onboard systems engineer on a bomber plane that went down in World War Two, although Lenny maintained that the events surrounding his demise had been beyond his control.
The guides of different charges didn’t perceive each other on a regular basis; they usually only interacted when working or scheming together. The writer and her husband had some guides in common, such as Hazel. The tiny ball of light who represented the couple’s future child also took to flying about its father’s person when he was in the writer’s vicinity, but otherwise hovered close to the mother’s form.
As the guides watched their charges in the throes of a loving embrace, the old woman, Hazel, who was in charge of marital affairs, came to stand between Tory and Astarleia to express her pride in their efforts of late.
‘Best anniversary present ever, ladies,’ Hazel stated for the record — this development promised to make everyone’s job a whole lot easier.
‘Can we please go to dinner now? There is drinking and smoking to be done.’ Nictar prompted the couple to make a move; there was nothing the deviate entity loved more than a good celebration.
Tory was impressed that her charge was eager to start researching the second book of the trilogy before they’d even sold the first one. They had received a couple of rejections from publishers who claimed to have loved the book, but having just taken on new fantasy writers, felt they must decline her work at this time. The knock-backs didn’t faze the writer any as her manuscript was currently being looked at by HarperCollins.
As soon as her agent had told her of this development, the writer recalled her off-the-cuff comment to a friend suggesting that this publisher was her choice. The writer took her agent’s note, highlighted the publisher’s name, and stuck it up on her pinboard along with all the pictures of places and faces which had helped inspire her story. Was the universe really listening — only time would tell?
Karmalina was delighted when she arrived and found the young writer and her guides already hard at work on the sequel. ‘Congratulations, ladies, your writer has just become a published author.’
‘So the powers-that-be at HarperCollins agreed?’ Astarleia gathered, as the publisher’s Oversouls were the only ones Karmalina had been requested to approach — as per their charge’s desire.
Karmalina burst into a huge smile as she nodded in confirmation and then frowned, as there was a condition. ‘But they’re going to make you cut sixty pages —’
‘Oh, thank God! Yes, please,’ Tory pleaded in desperation. ‘Are they going to make us rethink the title too?’
‘They are.’ Karmalina was impressed that Tory knew of this.
Tory closed the book from which she was reading to her charge and raised the cover so that Karmalina might view it. ‘This is the second book of the first trilogy … I have connections in high places,’ she explained, and the beautiful etheric gypsy gasped.
‘You’re one of those cross-dimensional autobiographical muses,’ Karmalina surmised, ‘like King Arthur and Obe One Kenobi!’
Tory recalled Kuthumi mentioning something to this effect. ‘I owe a karmic debt to this, the dimension of my origin,’ Tory outlined her understanding of the situation.
‘Why didn’t you say so in the first place?’ The fiery Oversoul chuckled with delight as she pressed her hands together. ‘Which of the Masters do I have to thank for sending you our way?’
‘Ah … Kuthumi and DK,’ Tory answered to the best of her knowledge.
‘Fabulous!’ Karmalina clapped her hands, delighted by the information. ‘So we can expect a good serve of esoteric doctrine, science and healing from your future works?’
‘All those topics played a major role in my life,’ Tory conceded, pleased to be in Karmalina’s obvious favour.
‘I look forward to reading all about it,’ she assured with a wave and took her leave. ‘Keep up the good work.’
Tory looked to Astarleia in the wake of the gypsy’s departure. ‘Star Wars was a true story?’
‘In a galaxy far, far away,’ Astarleia concurred.
‘Wow, I wish I’d visited there.’ Tory imagined what it would be like. ‘I think I would have made a fantastic Jedi Knight. They never did have any female Jedi, did they?’ She was rather put out by this oversight.
‘I believe they will in future,’ Astarleia said to appease the muse.
Tory dismissed her little fantasy as she realised her charge had paused from her reading and was daydreaming out the long, slender windows inset in the double French doors at the end of her office. ‘Research,’ Tory reminded the writer, who snapped out of her daze and went back to reading. ‘Karmalina certainly seemed pleased to learn that I am a cross-dimensional muse.’ Tory was curious to learn why.
‘Naturally, as such muses are considered the choice ones,’ Astarleia enlightened her. ‘See, you’re not an artist, you’re not making the story up as you go, so you’re more likely to succeed in finishing your work. Also, you are from another dimension and are bound to bring new concepts and ideas with you into this world. And that’s not to mention that to be at a level to cross dimensions in the first place, a soul-mind must have the support of the Master Rays, which is always a good sign for success.’
Tory could see why Karmalina was so joyous, but she wasn’t sure all the reasons were completely justified. ‘I don’t know the ending,’ she confessed, only just this moment realising this to be the case.
What do you mean, you don’t know the ending? Arthur, who’d been napping on the lounge beside the writer’s desk, gave a disgruntled meow.
‘Well …’ Tory thought back to Kuthumi’s library, when he’d advised the page number of the final book that this moment was recorded on. ‘As far as my story is concerned, we are currently residing around the middle of book six. So how could I possibly know the ending, when it has yet to come to pass in my reality?’
Astarleia seemed to be following, but Arthur placed both paws over his face, perplexed.
‘I don’t know what’s happening with my kindred or Maelgwn …’ Tory was about to fly into a mad panic when Astarleia reminded her of something.
‘The books!’ The Oversoul tapped the book in Tory’s hand. ‘You can read what happens to your kindred. And besides, who knows what will have eventuated when time catches up to itself in the story? I mean you have at least four and a half books to convey to our charge before we reach this instance in time.’
‘You’re right. I can also read what happens to me!’ Tory realised, of the mind to manifest a copy of the sixth book, but Astarleia was shaking her head.
‘I wouldn’t do that here, unless you want the last part of book six mysteriously manifesting at the beginning of book two.’
‘Point taken,’ Tory conceded.
‘Between books perhaps,
’ Astarleia suggested, ‘or maybe you could take a leave of absence between trilogies to catch up with your kindred?’
Yeah! Arthur meowed. Then maybe some of us other guides might get to try our hand at writing.
‘Are you planning on leaving the land of the living so soon, Arthur?’ Tory quizzed, as the cat stretched out on the lounge. ‘You’ve only just arrived.’
I knew this was a whirlwind gig when I took it. I’ve got to be outta here by the time the kid arrives, Arthur meowed in response
‘Shh, puss.’ The writer urged the cat to keep its meows to itself. ‘I can’t concentrate.’
As the music that accompanied the nightly news was heard coming from the lounge, Arthur raised himself to go and reposition himself on the lounge in front of the television. ‘Later, ladies.’ Arthur meowed back at them and drew the writer’s attention.
‘Wouldn’t want to miss the stock market news, hey Arthur?’ The writer shook her head, amused. She’d often caught Arthur watching the financial market news. He was the strangest cat she’d ever come across and the sweetest too. Both she and her husband loved him dearly and spoilt him rotten.
‘A whirlwind gig?’ Tory turned to Astarleia to question.
Astarleia looked rather sad suddenly. ‘He has a rare disease that is pretty well exclusive to his breed. It’s his cute, flat face and nose that are the problem … he can’t drink water without getting it up his nostrils. It’s too difficult to see the waterline, which is why he prefers milk. Still, his intestines are not getting flushed properly and this indulgence will kill him by the time your first trilogy is complete.’
‘That’s tragic.’ Tory would have felt for the animal had she not been functioning purely from a mental aspect at present.
Astarleia nodded to agree. ‘He likes it here, and he’ll want to hang around for a while when his time with this couple has ended. Thus, I’ve decided to let him have a crack at that book he’s been wanting to write … between your trilogies perhaps?’
Tory looked a little horrified by this notion, wanting to complete her mission as quickly as possible so that she might move on to higher realms and work.
Astarleia noted this, but she also knew things about their charge’s future that Tory didn’t. ‘We’ll see how it all pans out, shall we?’
13
CONNECTIONS OF
CONSEQUENCE
The sunrise over the city of Chailida was an incredible sight and seemed all the more wondrous when Gazelle considered that this was her first morning of eternal life. Born a space child, it was rare that Gazelle ever witnessed dawn on the surface of a planet and yet here she was viewing the sunrise from her own apartment in the newest and most exciting settlement in the galaxy. She was one of the Chosen Ones now and having been made familiar with the vows she was to make to Lahmu and his senate this day, she felt honoured and grateful — her life finally had a good purpose.
It was hard not to think about Sparrowhawk. Gazelle had never dwelt on anyone as much, in all her born days, as she had on the Dragon’s Falcon son in just this past day or two. She’d never met a man who made her feel attractive or special and she’d certainly never entertained the desire to let a man get close to her.
Gazelle ran her hands gently over her leather-clad form, dead to all touch for as long as she could remember. The thought of Sparrowhawk touching her like this caused the body beneath her hands to tingle and then tremble in delighted anticipation. It’s not going to happen, she told herself in all seriousness and her delight ended. Why would he want this used dishrag of a body? The thought made her want to cry, for although she was far from being a virgin, Gazelle had never given her body willingly to anyone and now that she did feel disposed towards the love of another she felt unworthy of him.
‘I thought you might need a pep talk by now.’
Gazelle sniffled back her tears as she turned from the sunrise to face the lounge room of her apartment, and found a Homo sapiens incarnation of herself holding out a handkerchief to her. ‘Who … who?’
‘Who am I?’ Lirathea helped out the tongue-tied Falcon female. ‘I am Lirathea, the representative of the spirit world on Lahmu’s council, and the second daughter of the Dragon,’ she explained, whereupon Gazelle’s eyes broadened all the wider.
‘But … but, that would mean …’
It was a good thing Lirathea was telepathic as it saved a lot of guesswork. ‘Up until recently, Sparrowhawk has been habouring a secret love …’ Lirathea began the tale she was here to tell and it gained her Gazelle’s complete attention. ‘He kept his feelings secret because the object of his desire was forbidden to him, being that I was his sister and of a different human breed to himself.’ Lirathea saw the burst of awareness that the information gave Gazelle reflected in her face. ‘So you see, there is absolutely no need for you to weep. Your greatest aspiration is, in fact, the answer to Sparrowhawk’s prayers, and mine.’ She urged Gazelle to finally take the handkerchief and she did, although her tears had ceased to flow.
‘You were the cause of the woes of which he spoke?’ Gazelle gathered, her mouth curving to a smile as she wiped the escaping tears from her face. ‘No wonder he was hesitant to discuss the issue with me.’ Then the Falcon woman gasped as it came to her that their brothers bore the same striking resemblance that she and Lirathea did. ‘You’re Avery’s twin, aren’t you?’ Gazelle paused to ponder how strange this all was. ‘Is there a reason for the uncanny coincidences in our appearance?’
‘That explanation is going to be a little overwhelming.’ Lirathea floated to a seat. ‘Are you sure you’re ready to know?’
‘After a lifetime of lies, all these truths are rather refreshing.’ Gazelle took a seat to hear Lirathea speak.
When Sparrowhawk arrived to collect Gazelle for her first briefing with Lahmu, he was rather alarmed to find Lirathea huddled in close conversation with the new object of his desire. ‘What are you doing here?’ He attempted to cover his horror by sounding merely surprised to see Lirathea.
‘Oh, I had a few things I needed to discuss with our new recruit.’ Lirathea stood to make her departure.
‘What kind of things?’ He ventured to pry.
Lirathea found his distress delightful. ‘You’re so cute when you’re flustered,’ she commented playfully, looking to Gazelle for her opinion, ‘isn’t he?’
‘I’ve never seen him flustered before,’ Gazelle commented, feeling quite privileged to be privy to his secret and thus able to join in on his sister’s teasing. In Gazelle’s opinion, however, Sparrowhawk was gorgeous all the time, but she lacked the confidence to say so in this instance.
‘I’m not flustered,’ Sparrowhawk insisted. ‘Why should I be flustered by the prospect of you two meeting?’ he queried, making his unease all the more obvious. Still, the sideways glance and smile that the two women served each other seemed to confirm the Falcon male’s dread and thus he appealed to Lirathea. ‘You told her?’
‘Nothing …’ his sister smiled, ‘that isn’t true.’ She vanished.
Sparrowhawk wanted to die where he stood. ‘That’s my family for you. Always popping in when you least expect them.’
Gazelle smiled in an attempt to alleviate his discomfort. She rose and wandered back to gaze out the large window that overlooked the city. ‘Then I hope they do so to me often,’ she granted, ‘as that was without doubt the most amazing conversation I’ve ever had. I’ve never spoken with an oracle before.’ She explained why she felt overawed. ‘Probably because I never imagined that there was anything in my future worth knowing about.’
‘And were you pleasantly surprised by what my sister had to say?’ Sparrowhawk just couldn’t resist finding out about their topic of conversation.
Gazelle picked up on this and found it amusing. ‘Beyond my wildest dreams,’ she teased, unable to contain her welling urge to smile, which caused Sparrowhawk to smile also. He wandered over to join her in admiring the view, and Gazelle became more intent upon the scenery as the mo
ment threatened to become intimate.
Sparrowhawk stared at the view in silence for a time, while he roused the courage to ask, ‘Was I in your future?’
Gazelle looked at Sparrowhawk, stunned by the candour of his question — his eyes remained focused on the horizon, however. She didn’t feel right discussing what Lirathea had told her about Sparrowhawk and why he might be disposed towards her. Gazelle wouldn’t believe he held feelings for her until he confessed as much himself. ‘Well, you did just help me achieve immortal life,’ she commented diplomatically. ‘So I was kind of hoping you’d be around to share some of it with me.’ She looked down to avoid eye contact with him. ‘Truth be known, Sparrowhawk, you’re the only friend I’ve got, or have ever had for that matter.’ She sniffled back her welling tears, becoming annoyed at herself. ‘Shit, now I’m crying again. What is it about you? I’ve never shed a tear and yet you manage to get me going every time I see you.’
‘Hey.’ Sparrowhawk gripped tight both her shoulders. ‘Spiritually and emotionally you’re purging a lot of rubbish right now, a few tears are to be expected.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she let her emotions flow, ‘I’m not normally like this.’
‘Really?’ Sparrowhawk’s tone implied that this went without saying. ‘What are you normally like then?’
‘Well, actually,’ Gazelle sniffled and gave half a laugh, ‘I’m usually a right little bitch,’ she confessed. ‘Tough as guts.’
‘Then I think I prefer you this way.’ Sparrowhawk risked pulling her close to give her a hug and his timing proved good as Gazelle did not pull away, but continued to sob and chuckle against his chest.
‘I think my normal self will prove of more benefit to Lahmu somehow.’ She responded at last, feeling torn between the warmth and comfort of Sparrowhawk’s embrace and her natural impulse to push him away. Instead, she just eased away from him. ‘Speaking of whom.’
Sparrowhawk backed up a step. There was so much he wanted to say to Gazelle, but she was not yet ready to hear it. ‘Time for your first lesson in teleportation then.’ He dispersed the uncomfortable mood with the cheer of his statement.