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Flying 171

“We’ll put her in Phora’s library. Salla, Grayne, help me get her to the room once I have opened it.” Kyrooraz walked over to a rack of spears, gave the one on the far right a twist clockwise, and the whole rack slid to the right revealing a small room full of books from floor to ceiling. Kyrooraz caught a whiff of old leather and dry paper coming from the room. The room smelled of study and wisdom. Phora was a warrior, but he was also a scholar. The books were not for display, but were those used countless times, as could be seen by the dark appearance of the books’ leather corners. “Too bad he was a tad bit too young for her,” she thought in a passing quirk of possibility.

They put Kinesis on a stretcher and took her into the library, leaving the door open. As they put her down, Ergon’s bunch from his Attack Unit came through the door in combat formation. Theatetus was at the lead, did a quick scan of the room, settled his eyes for a few seconds on Phora, then Kinesis, and finally turned to Kyrooraz. He flipped his visor back.

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Flying 172

“Ergon sent us to guard Phora and a woman named Kinesis. I presume that she is the woman in the library,” said Theatetus, his voice a low bass. Theatetus was youth in its fullness: vibrant to the point of making people around him think that they want to do absurd physical tasks; alert as an eagle, with eyes that could take in more than they should; risk taking without fear; a few scars and a complexion that gave him more of a tan than he should have; and a wariness that bordered on paranoia. Given his life in the Keep and unbridled impatience, he had the boredom of the young already with his task.

“Right you are, Theatetus. I hope Ergon has sent a good Unit. Looks to me like the Crib Unit,” said Kyrooraz with a whining emphasis on the word, “Crib.”

“I’m going to ignore what does not pertain to the defense situation, Kyrooraz. Are the two in physical readiness?” Theatetus had dark amber eyes that bore down on Kyrooraz. They made him into a young lion, blending in with his tan skin. He had broad shoulders, a thin waist, legs that were short and fast on the lateral moves, and high cheekbones. His lips had a curious twist, a cat smile.

“No. Phora is in an induced sleep and the woman, Kinesis, is physically exhausted and will need time to recover the strength she used to cast a spell that saved Phora.” Kyrooraz brushed back a lock of dark red curly hair that had fallen across her forehead.

Theatetus’ eyebrows went up. “A spell? She can cast spells?” He looked back and forth from Kyrooraz to Kinesis.

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Flying 173

“That’s what I hear. She felled Ergon with one and destroyed a room coming out of treatment for Savager bite. Best be ready for anything when she starts to wake up. I’m on my way to make sure that Ergon is behaving at the ER Ward. Salla and Grayne will stay here with your Unit to help.” She flipped her visor down and turned to leave.

“Did you say that she took out Ergon?” asked Theatetus with a bewildered expression written across his face.

Kyrooraz stopped and turned around to face Theatetus. “Dropped him cold, and out for the count,” said Kyrooraz, giving Kinesis a sideways look. “Salla and Grayne, stay with these youngsters and watch over our patients.” She flipped her visor down and turned to leave.

“Thanks for leaving your bedpanners behind, but remind them not to get in the way should there be any problems,” said Theatetus, matter of factly.

Kyrooraz never broke stride, but said, “They’ll know what to do if there is any trouble; they’ve trained with me.” With that said, she left the room, all eyes following her strong, lengthy strides.

Theatetus turned to Salla. “Tough character,” he said in a straight forward voice, but with a hint of admiration.

“You have no idea, hot shot. You have no idea,” replied Salla, looking Theatetus up and down like a cat ready to devour an unwary mouse. She and Grayne turned to inspect Phora and Kinesis, while Theatetus stationed the rest of the Unit around the room in strategic places.

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Flying 174

Kinesis was flying once again, straight towards a distant spire that emerged from a cloud layer just below her. Overhead, a deep blue, almost black sky. She could feel its depth and expanse above her; an infinite dark pit open to lift her up and swallow her in. There was enough rays of light coming from somewhere behind her to keep her aloft, but just enough. No, wrong. Not enough. She could feel her grip on the air begin to fail. She was flying fast, the cold wind stream ripped at her hair. Fast enough; she should be holding her own. Nevertheless, she was descending, down, down towards a flat current laced cloud layer below her. She could not enter that layer, for if she did she would lose all light and would plummet to the ground or whatever was below it. She struggled to grasp whatever light she could find, turning towards any ray that may help. Too little to the left, too little to the right, the light from behind dimming. She continued fast straight ahead toward the spire, but inching downward. The cloud tugged at her efforts. Even splaying her fingers to stay aloft did not help as it usually did. Her decent began to speed up. She clenched her teeth. Her blue eyes teared tiny droplets back into her hair to freeze in sparkling diamonds encrusted on her golden ribbons. The white shroud was closer, rising up to meet her. She could see into it, but not to the ground. There was something there. Something, a body, a person, flying in the cloud matching her speed. What was it or her or him? She could not see, for the cloud was a mist, not thick, but wispy in nature. Almost at the top edge of the cloud. It was a shimmering swirling mist of vapors rushing by, just below her, buffeting her with cold fingers of water that was not yet frost. And inside, there is…. She hit the cloud layer. It wasn’t a cloud, but frozen flakes. They were encapsulating her in an ice envelope, snowflakes that stuck to her and hardened into white bits of flumed sand that glowed and cast a vapor trail behind her –the few flakes that did not stick. The weight was pulling her deeper into the white sea, deeper towards the figure, which was now rolling over and facing her. It, he, spread his arms and reached out for her. Who? What? Wait! Phora! It was Phora. She reached for him, but an icy blast from a distant object, the spire, a tower much like the Keep, pushed her away from his arms. She fell past him, despair in her and his eyes.

“Nooooo!” she cried as she rocketed downward, her body twisting with her fight to slow the fall, into the dark depths below.

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Flying 175

There was a quiet thunderous “Whoosh!” that filled the room, an inside tornado. Two guards, Theatetus and Kyrooraz, were thrown soundly against the bookshelves on the far wall. The air was clouded with bits of torn paper, dust and feathers from a mask made to look like a hawk. Kinesis bolted upright, grasping at whatever her hands could find, flailing in an effort to grasp light to stay upright. And they found other hands ready for their anxious reach. Phora’s. He quickly took them and held them tightly. He was kneeling on the stone floor beside her cot in his library, which was suffering the blow of her arrival into the conscious world. Books, lamps, small tables, framed wall maps, and writing pens were strewn everywhere. Ergon, who had cowered behind his shield, was a huge bolder covered with settling papers and a smear of ink that had splotched on his shield that he had used to cover himself. Theatetus lay against a broken bookshelf, books raining down on him in a summer storm of thuds. Kyrooraz lay next to Theatetus, dazed and eyes bulging with amazement. Phora was for the most part unaffected; only small bits of paper and a piece of ink blotter had landed on him.

“Ah, good, you are back,” said Phora and squeezed her hands between his. He had peeled back his armored gloves so that he could touch her skin to skin. He could feel --that was it-- he could feel her identity, her personhood in those hands, though they were cold, very cold. He covered hers with his as much as he could to let his warmth flow into her. The warmth leeched from his body and flowed through his hands; they almost glowed with the heat of the surge and the strange feeling that he got from the energy massing through his fingers.

Suddenly Kinesis’ eyes looked frantically all around, her head twisting from one side to the other. “The Wisps!” she cried.

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Flying 176

“All accounted for,” said Ergon, as Theatetus and Kyrooraz dug themselves out from under the papers and books. One last book teetered and fell directly towards Kyrooraz’s head. Fast as a snake strike, Ergon reached out and up to snatch the book before it crowned Kyrooraz. He let his arm fall around Kyrooraz’s shoulder as he brought the book to the floor.

Kyrooraz gave Ergon a sideways look. “Quite a heavy book to bend your arm so much, Ergon. But, thanks for the save. I could have ended up with another scrape on my nose.”

Ergon put the book to the side and grabbed Kyrooraz’s hand to heft her up to standing. “Uh, it was a long reach. And, I was using my good arm. I told you to be ready when Kinesis came to. Typical you, wouldn’t take my word for it. Bet you will from now on. At any rate, you are quite welcome. And the book was very heavy, some sort of dictionary,” as he gave the book a fast second quick look. Turing his eyes back slowly, he gave her a hooded eye look with the trace of a raised eyebrow.

Kyrooraz leaned closer to Ergon, one of her eyebrows jumping almost imperceptibly. “Let’s give them some moments alone. Let me just see how she is doing, then we’ll go out and, er, inspect the outer terraces.”

“On the target,” said Ergon.

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Flying 177

Kyrooraz went quickly over to Kinesis. “How do you feel?” she asked, looking over Kinesis from head to toe.

“Very tired, cold though much warmer (which provoked a glance of Kyrooraz at Phora, whose eyes never left those of Kinesis) and, well, hungry.”

“You should be. Whatever spell you cast drained you of energy. You need some good Keep food to get you back in order. Ergon and I will go get some right away. And, I’ll have the rest of my Unit and Ergon’s Unit guards step outside for a moment so that you may be in a more peaceful environment.” Kyrooraz turned and barked like a drill sergeant. “Salla and Grayne, go back to the ER Ward. I’ll be there before long. Ergon and I will get some food on the double.”

Ergon gave the room a scan, his eyes scouring every detail. “Theatetus, you and your Unit stand at the ready outside the doors. No one, and I mean no one is to enter. Any problems, send them to me.” Ergon turned to depart with Kyrooraz. Theatetus gave orders that he and Philo would guard the main entrance, Altreda and Helena the hall of the secret passage. They all disappeared in one swoop, dark flashing shadows of armor leaving a room, and in fact, brightening it up.

“The Wisps are really gone?” asked Kinesis again, peering deeply into Phora’s eyes.

Phora looked at her worried expression. He could see that perhaps she had felt more of the Wisp’s malice and evil than a normal person would. “Yes, all are accounted for, though the battle was horrific and we lost many good guards, especially in the caravan. Two are missing from the caravan. Telos and Hyle have already left the Keep on a rescue mission. There was a battle with Wisps right outside the Keep that I will tell you about later. In the meantime, are you certain that you are well? You’ve been asleep for a good twelve hours. You awoke with a fight and, well, Theatetus and Kyrooraz did not believe Ergon that you may have bad intuitions or dreams before you come back to us.” Phora studied Kinesis’ eyes for a hint of trouble, and he saw it in a tiny flame of blue at the rim of her irises.

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Flying 178

Kinesis let go of Phora’s hands, though she squeezed them tightly before she did. Her voice was soft and had a tremor, that of a wounded meadowlark. “I had a bad vision that I was flying, but it was almost the dark. I was over a strange white, yet gray cloud and there was a spire or tower in the far distance protruding through it. The cloud had a bad feeling soaked in the vapor hurtling below me; the spire seemed to beg of death. I was streaking to it in full speed flight, but could not stay aloft. There was not enough light, though I could see very well. I fell into the cloud, which was not a vapor, but a frozen mist. You were in the mist, in the frozen tiny sickles of stopped dreams. I fell through…, I fell into the darkness of despair after missing your arms which were there to save me. It was a fall into blackness of pure loneliness.” She closed her eyes in mental anguish, putting her hands over them and leaning forward. Phora could hear a choked sob and her shoulders gave a subtle heave.

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Flying 179

The wave of emotion hit Phora with harder fury than being hit full force by dragon fire. He burned with the passion. He knew, knew for certain, that he would defend Kinesis with everything in his power, with more than his life. He would never, never let evil touch her. He would never, never let her suffer. He would never, never betray her or let even the most trivial unkindness come from him. Or others. The surge of this shaking of his soul by the unexpected eruption of the volcano of trapped emotions stunned him completely.

But, there was more. Deep down, deep down he felt, yes felt, that the world and his life blended in a passionate dance of joy with Kinesis’ glow of being, with her very presence. “This must be what they call love,” he said to himself. “This is what was trained out of me to become the Knight, the leader, the master of the Guards that I am.” He shuddered and a cold fist of hardened terror struck him, as hard as his feelings for Kinesis.

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Flying 180

“Phora. Phora!” exclaimed Kinesis. You are trembling and I feel that you are in great distress. What is it?” she asked. She reached out and took his hands in hers. The electric flow of energies went back and forth between them.

Phora leaned over against the small bed or cot on which Kinesis was lying. His eyes began to glisten and he dropped his head down to the side of her arm.

“Kinesis. I am the Knight of the Keep. I am the trusted Guardian of the people of the Keep. At any time, I will lay down my life and those of my fellow Guardians for the welfare of the Keep. The only feeling that I can remember ever having is the commitment of my life to the Keep, if you can call the commitment a feeling. And now there is you and a new feeling, no, feelings. They are for you and other persons and, believe it or not, things. I am a person torn into pieces by these feelings. They are so very, very strong, especially for you.” Phora was speaking softly. Kinesis could feel the warmth of his breath against her arm and then the touch of his nose and lips as he let his head rest against it.

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Flying 181

Kinesis looked down on Phora’s dark mane of hair, touching her arm with its softness, yet fullness. She could sense that his eyes were staring, hardly blinking, though there was a trace of tear at the corner; she could feel its dampness. “Phora. I do not know what has brought us together, but I cannot believe that it was mere chance. There are so many questions I need to ask, and I suppose, that you need to, also. But, you need to tell me what is pressing upon you to cause you such distress.”

Phora twisted so that he could look up into her eyes. Their crystal blue seemed to open up as a summer sky.

“I am torn, the raw separate edges of my reason and these feelings want to blend, but the more I try to make them compatible, the more they inflame each other,” said Phora. “I do not know whether I am fit to lead the Guardians now that I have feelings, especially for you. Though I know certainly that I am the best to lead from a rational standpoint. Yet, feelings are unknowns for me. I do not know what will happen when my feelings come into conflict with my reason. And I am at a complete loss to deal with the feelings that I have for you. They are very, very powerful. Their strength makes Jarz’s power seem like a feather in the wind by comparison. Just the touch of your arm against my cheek makes my mind go into a sort of light headedness. What a mess I am. I should be able to think this through, but the feelings leave the process in disarray.” He shook his head, but his eyes never left hers.

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Flying 182

“Phora. Don’t think that you are the only one here with turmoil of the heart and mind. I have every reason to dislike or hate you for taking me from my world. Yet, strangely enough, I feel at home here, in spite of the terrible things that exist in your world. And, I feel closer to you than I have felt to anyone. I have had many suitors. They tried to win me with their abilities, treasures, and cunning. I may as well have been sifting dry sand through my hands. You are different. You are very different. You did not try to win me; you tried to take me. And, succeeded. No person has ever bested me. But, when you realized that you had hurt me, you were willing to let me go, even though it was, how should I put it, against your better judgment. So, I am torn, too. I am very fond of you and I don’t know what to think of you. Reason tells me to stay away, but my feelings are otherwise.” Kinesis put her right hand on Phora’s cheek and smoothed it back towards his ear. She let her hand ease around to the back of Phora’s head, her fingers running through his hair. She bent closer to look more deeply into his warm brown eyes. Phora eased forward and lifted his head towards hers.

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Flying 183

Neither Phora nor Kinesis could sense the quietness of the small room they were in. The room had stopped breathing. It was still as the dead calm before a storm. Not even a floating speck of dust from Kinesis’ awakening disturbed the tranquility. Yet, there was power, very powerful forces moving in the still waters that surrounded them; fast currents were sweeping their lives in unknown directions under the calm of the surface.

Kinesis felt herself as if in her dream --falling down towards Phora through a mist cloud. For her, the room had vanished into thin mist. He had the strange sensation that his head that had been pressed against her arm was rising up as if it were a cloud in the afternoon sun of a summer’s day. That he was flying in the air. The room around him had vanished into a dark blue. Closer their faces came towards each other. Kinesis tilted her head slightly and Phora lifted his lips up to meet hers.

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Flying 184

“Hold there! Password!” came the shout from outside the main door to Phora’s room.

“What?!”

The magic time hold between Kinesis evaporated in a split second. Phora was up and in a combat stance, sword and shield at the ready. Kinesis’ armor had sprung to her and she reached to the side of her bed to retrieve her bow. It was in her hand faster than one could see the movement, an arrow strung.

From outside the door. Bam! Crash! Clatter! “Dragons, Theatetus!”

“Ergon?”

“Who else has this armor?”

“No one, but you gave the wrong password.”

Silence.

Theatetus’ voice: “Visor up. The other one behind you, too.”

Ergon’s voice. “Done.” Kyrooraz’s voice, “Done.”

A bit more clatter and things falling to the ground.

Theatetus: “Sorry sir, but couldn’t take a chance with the wrong password.”

A short silence.

A loud voice, wrapped in frustration. “Why me? Why do I have to get mixed up with an idiot? Ergon look at this mess. It’s a good thing that I brought much more food and drink than I thought would be enough. I’d hate to have Kinesis try to eat the food you were carrying that is now all over your armor. What kind of password is ‘What?’ Did you really think that Theatetus would respond affirmatively to that? Dragons!” Kyrooraz’s voice had a whine of exasperation, the kind that exasperated mothers have with consistently misbehaving, clumsy children.

Silence. Then, a low growling mutter of something from Ergon that no one could make out.

The door slowly opened.

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Flying 185

Phora could hear quiet exclamations in the background as the door opened. There was much shuffling and he could tell that at least two sets of armor scraped across the floor in a hurried fashion of chaos --similar to the sounds of injured guardians helping each other to stand after having fought off a foe together. But, there was something just a little bit different with these sounds. He could not tell what it was.

Kyrooraz entered in carrying a large table pack that had a stainless cover over it. One end of it was steaming and Kinesis could already smell the wonderful aromas coming from it. Kyrooraz turned as she entered, speaking in a loud hush over her shoulder.

“Hurry up. I’ll need some help setting this thing up.” She turned back and without breaking stride entered the small library where Phora was at combat ready, Kinesis behind him with her bow. Flipping up her visor, she said, “Green three. Ergon had a little trouble with the password. Every thing is fine now.” Looking again over her shoulder, she barked, “Hurry up Ergon. This table is heavy.” Phora put his shield to the side and put away his sword. He was visibly releaved. Kinesis leaned back against the bed rest post. Kyrooraz noticed that Kinesis’ armor was on and ready.

“Kinesis. Your armor is on. I would not have thought that you would have the time or energy to put it on so quickly.” She looked closely. The armor was in perfect form; there were no elements out of place.

“It is strange, Kyrooraz, but my armor seems to have a mind of its own. It was on me before I could really move.” Kinesis looked at her armor with its subtle black glistening sheen. Kyrooraz could have sworn that the armor responded to her words by relaxing around her shoulders to take off some of the weight and transfer it to the bed post.

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Flying 186

Everyone turned and looked as Ergon made his way sheepishly into the small room. He was covered down his right breastplate and arm with what looked like a madman’s culinary art project: lettuce leaves were stuck to some oily paste with seeds plastered in a slash across it; noodles with a red beef type sauce christened his shoulder and dangled from his right forearm like the hairs of a dog having rolled in a brown mud puddle; and the tops of his boots were splattered in a symphony of mashed potatoes, sautéed spinach, charcoal broiled vegetables of all colors and some kind of bread that had stuck itself to the bottom of his right boot, giving his walk a padded thump every time his foot came down.

“Everything straight with Theatetus?” asked Kyrooraz. Kinesis thought that she saw the flicker of a smile as she spoke. She looked around and saw the same smile flash across Phora’s mouth. But, it was gone before anyone could really say that it had been there.

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Flying 187

Ergon cleared his throat with a loud, “Harrumph!”

“Yes, I presumed that I would be recognized by my armor alone, and gave the wrong password in response. Theatetus, er, took me to task.” It was hard enough for Ergon to state that he had made a serious, though at least to Kinesis, comical mistake. But, it was clearly much worse for him to be apologizing looking like a mulch bin of thrown out food. Kyrooraz’s glances back and forth towards him with not a smile but a “It could only happen to you” smirk made Ergon seem to shrink at the thought of his own appearance.

Kinesis broke the pause. “Well, if what’s under that cover is as good as it smells, and if you don’t serve it up right now, there’s going to be a lot more trouble. I am famished.” She rested her bow carefully to the side and took off her helmet letting her golden hair flow down across her shoulders. Phora’s eyes glittered. Which did not escape Kyrooraz’s watchful eyes.

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Flying 188

Kyrooraz brought the tray over and pressed a yellow button on its side. Small telescoping legs sprang from under it, weaving X supports from bottom to top. Ergon hastened over and took the left side and they carried it close to Kinesis and lowered it to the floor. With a bit of a sweep, Kyrooraz lifted the shining stainless lid. The tray was literally covered with all kinds of foods ready for eating. Vegetables of all kinds, fruits with honey dressing, nuts with seasoning of sweet and hot spices, and a range of drinks and desserts, especially some kind of chocolate cake that made Kinesis’ stomach do a flip in anticipation. Pressing another button, Kyrooraz had a drawer slide out from the front side and there were dishes and eating ware. Two folding cups, napkins and a wash cloth materialized in one the far right of the drawer.

“Dig in, Kinesis. It’s all good and is what we use for speedy recovery after battle,” said Kyrooraz with an emphasis on ‘good.’ “And speaking of a speedy recovery from battle, if you will excuse us, I shall take Ergon and Theatetus to the closest cleanup rooms so that they may recover from their, shall we say, food fight.” There was no question about the smile now, though Kyrooraz quickly coughed to cover it up, while Phora looked down at the food and not at Ergon.

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Flying 189

“Good idea, Kyrooraz,” said Ergon. “Seems as though there is something stuck to my foot. Perhaps, you can help me get it off.” He picked up his right foot to see the bread stuck to it, though there was a twinkle in his eye that Kinesis saw.

“Done,” said Kyrooraz. “Kinesis we’re off to the cleaners. Phora, see to it that she eats as much as she can, especially the broiled tonic roots.” With that, she turned took Ergon by the arm and hustled him out of the room, about in the same way that one would lead an elephant with a sore foot.

“Those two are like friends who always like to get the better of the other one. They must have a long history,” said Kinesis as she took a forkful of the green vegetables into her mouth. The taste was a sweet, yet sour, but had a wonderful texture and vibrant bold aftertaste as she swallowed. The effect was almost immediate. She could feel strength and warmth flooding throughout her body.

“Yes, they go back a long ways. One day I’ll tell you about them. But, for the moment, eat and gain strength from the food.”

“I’ll eat, but you must tell me what has happened while I have been unconscious.”

(To be continued)

Flying 190

“Alright, but you must continue to eat and not stop to ask questions,” replied Phora. His eyes had settled back on Kinesis, watching her as she ate. She seemed so delicate and fragile. Yet, he knew that she was truly a master warrior. And, she was beautiful. In every way that he could think.” He began to tell her about the caravan that had gone out and returned with the Wisps.

(to be continued)

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