Under A Velvet Cloak (36 page)

Each of them had loops affixed to their hands and feet. Her pink loops would immobilize any part of his body they encircled, from the point of contact to the end. If she looped his neck, all of his body would lose volition, making him helpless. The paralysis would last one minute, then abate, and the loop would need to rest for a minute before its power was restored. So it was not a contest of strength so much as timing and dexterity. She needed to immobilize him in pink fog, make the connection, and hold it for one minute. He needed to
do
the same to her in blue.

The problem was that they could never be sure how long a color would hold. It might be six minutes or ten seconds, randomly generated. The three minute average was only a crude guideline. A perfect hold would be wasted if the color changed. Chance was a major factor. In this dream state they had no powers of phasing out or checking the future; it was all blindly ongoing. No database or advice from the sideline. They were purely now and physical, Kerena and Cain. For as long as it took.

Because the game was newly devised, they had no experience with it. That made it even, in that sense. Neither of them had been playing entertainment games in the past millennium; their games had been all business, seeking advantage or accomplishment.

The fog was pink. Kerena stalked Cain, finding that she was able to move in the direction she wished despite having no firm ground. She swung her loops to get the proper feel of them; they were flexible and controlled by her will. She looped his left wrist, but at the same time he looped her unguarded left wrist. Her hand went numb. She threw herself back, to withdraw her hand by hauling it clear with the rest of her body, but the loop had closed firmly. Meanwhile he did escape her loop, which she had failed to tighten. A pox on the initial learning curve!

Cain looped her right arm at the elbow, and pulled it tight. Now she could not escape. He held her before him, his member erect; he was quite ready for sex. But it was not his time, while the fog remained pink.

Then the fog changed to blue, fading to neutral in the course of five seconds, and taking the new color in another five. Now Cain had her by hand and arm, and it was his turn. He hauled her in, angling for entry.

But her legs were free. She lifted them and set her feet against his hips, holding him out from her body. He pushed forward but was balked. He could not penetrate her while her feet were free. Then he twisted to the side, and her feet slid off, allowing him to get his body close to hers. He grinned, savoring his victory.

Her left hand recovered its feeling. The minute was up; the loop’s effect had worn off. Quickly she slipped it free and looped his right hand, reversing the hold. Her right arm followed, recovering. But he caught on, and whipped his hand and loop away. She had the advantage, but not enough, and the fog remained blue.

By the time the fog was pink again, her loop had lost its effect and Cain was free. But they had both learned things. Looping hands or arms was not enough; the legs had to be immobilized too, and at the right time. Better yet, loop the neck, and have the whole body vulnerable; then there could be no counter-attack. For a minute, at least. Longer, if one neck-loop could be switched for another after a minute. Loop time management could be critical.

She looped one of his feet, but he looped one of her arms again, and the position was indeterminate. He couldn’t pin her during his color, and she couldn’t pin him during hers. They were evenly matched, in their inexperience, as physical strength counted for little. Both protected their heads, and while one tried to loop one limb, the other went for another limb. At one point she looped his right arm with her left foot-loop, and his left arm with her right hand loop, and the color was hers, but the position was too awkward to manage. She couldn’t
do
anything with one foot held up against his elbow and his lower body free to swing away. Then her loops lost strength, and he reversed it and pressed in close to her as the color changed. But the color changed again in thirty seconds, forcing him to stop, and soon his loops lost effect.

She
realized
that more was required than mere sparring. She needed a larger strategy. How could she succeed in immobilizing him at just the right time? The chances were close to even that the color would change, giving him the advantage at just the wrong time.

Cain formed a huge foot loop and whipped it at her leg. She countered by snapping her legs together so that one could not be caught. That turned out to be disaster; the loop circled both legs and tightened about her waist. Suddenly all of her body below the waist lost volition. He bent his knee and came close as her powerless legs drifted apart. The fog was blue.

“Now take it, loser,” he said. His form became that of a gorilla. He intended to make it clear that she was being ravished.

Kerena was so surprised that she forgot to resist for a moment, and he looped one of her hands. He could change form? No, as he touched her she realized that it was illusion. She countered by assuming the seeming of a crocodile, snapping at his face with her long toothy snout. That made him jerk back, before he realized that this, too, was illusion.

Then the loops lost power, and she was free. The one remained about her waist but had no further effect; he would have to remove it to let it recover. She tried to keep tension on it so he couldn’t get it off her, but it foiled her and fell away. Meanwhile she went for his head. He blocked that with his arm, and the loop slid aside. The color changed to pink. They were even again.

But that gave her an idea. Cain didn’t merely want to win, he wanted to win with style. To make her suffer worse by being seemingly ravished by a monster. That could be a dangerous distraction on his part.

She sparred, foiling him and being foiled by him. She tried a kick at his groin, but her foot shied away; that kind of combat was not allowed. He was similarly unable to strike at her breasts or pull her hair. The loops were the only physical weapons.

She would have to gamble horrendously, but if she had figured him correctly, it would give her a better than even chance of winning. That was the edge she needed.

She came at him during the blue fog, focusing on both his arms together. She got one, but missed the other, and that gave him an opening. He lifted his free hand and dropped its loop over her head. It became snug, and her entire body became inert.

“Fool!” he said. He assumed the form of a bear, pulled her close, and penetrated her unresisting body.

Only her head was free. She screamed piercingly. “No! No!” She whipped her head about, causing her hair to flair.

“Scream. Struggle,” he said approvingly. He brought his seeming snout down for a kiss. But he did not forget what counted: he was holding the nether connection for the minute required.

“No! Please!” she cried, trying to avoid his cruel kiss. Her face was the only part of her capable of resisting his embrace.

“Delightful,” he said. “I think I like you better this way, hating your loss.” He tried again for a kiss.

This time she met him, kissing him back. That surprised him, but he held it, enjoying it. He didn’t know what ploy she could be trying, but refused to be distracted from the vital action below.

At last he lifted his head, savoring his victory. “I think the minute has passed.” Then he froze: the fog was pink. “How long-?”

“Thirty seconds,” she said. “You did not complete your minute. Now you’re on mine.”

He tried to jerk away-and discovered that not only had the color changed, his loop had lost its potency. She had quietly looped his arms and wrapped her legs around his hips. He struggled, but could not escape. In this setting her strength matched his. She held him as the next thirty seconds passed, bringing her to the completion of her minute. Connected and in pink.

He had been distracted trying to torture her, and not seen the color change in time. She had continued crying past the resumption of her freedom, as if remaining caught. She had deceived him. And won.

“Damn,” he said.

“Come into me, Erebus,” she said as her powers recovered beyond the dream. She sucked him into her, like a reverse birth, making him part of her body. She became the whole of Night and Darkness.

Then she birthed the baby he had become, for there were no human delays with the Incarnations. She squeezed him out: the Incarnation of Dreams. She had accomplished the rest of her mission.

The dream framework dissolved. Nox was back in her own chamber, with the baby. Jolie was there, amazed. “Tell them I won,” she said. “All of us

It was an elaborate hall, decorated for a party. Kerena was in a translucent evening gown, her hair loose and half floating. She looked devastatingly lovely.

Jolie was in a gown too, looking her best. Perhaps slightly better than her best in life. “Where are we?”

“In Erebus,” Kerena said.

“But I thought you absorbed him.”

“I did, and birthed his substance as the Incarnation of Dreams. Then I locked him into a region between the mortal realm and Hades. He has become Erebus the place.”

“But isn’t that dangerous? Suppose he locks us in?”

“He can’t. I deprived him of that power. But it hardly matters; this is not the literal place, but a communal dream recreation of it. I needed an ambiance that anyone can visit, for this special party.”

“Party?”

“To celebrate the salvation of my timeline-and all the others. It has been a long and sometimes difficult chore, as you know.”

Jolie studied the hall. “It is a very well appointed dream. But where is it? I mean, in which timeline?”

“In no specific timeline, because some guests will be from the first, some from the second. Most can’t cross, but the dream has no such restriction.”

“Guests?”

“They will be arriving soon. Most are from Tl, as are you. But I am from T2, and a few others. There will be no problem.”

“No problem,” Jolie agreed uncertainly.

A handsome young man appeared. He reminded Jolie strongly of Sir Gawain of old. “Thank you, Jolie.”

“Meet Gaw Two, in his adult form,” Kerena said. “He crafted this dream, of course.”

Music started. “Will you honor me with the first dance, Grandmother?”

“By all means.” The two danced, perfectly, an extraordinarily handsome couple. Mother and son, grandson, great grandson on through the centuries, at last reunited, he cured and eternal as an Incarnation.

A man appeared. “May I cut in?”

“Of course, Morely.” And as Kerena entered his embrace, Jolie saw that it was true. Her first lover had returned. That was an advantage of a dream setting: life and death no longer mattered. Morely had spent some time in Purgatory but finally made it to Heaven, and of course his soul had been released for this occasion.

“I always knew you had promise,” Morely told her. “Now you have saved the central trunk of the Tree of Life.”

Gaw Two turned to Jolie with a flourish. They danced, and he was the perfect partner. Jolie smiled. “I knew you when you were a baby,” she said. “More than once.”

“I am the culmination of fifteen hundred years of babies,” he agreed. “Grandmother, bless her, simply would not give over until she had restored me.”

“Well, she loves you.”

They finished the dance and went to sit on the sideline. “Mother has an impressive guest list,” he remarked. Mother was Orlene, the Incarnation of Good, who had fought as hard to save him in her way as Kerena had in hers. She had coordinated with Nox to set this up.

A pretty young woman appeared. “Molly!” Kerena cried, hurrying to embrace her old young friend.

“Congratulations on saving the timeline. Lovely party.”

“Would you object if I invited Morgan le Fey also?”

Molly paused. “I never achieved vengeance against her.”

“This would not be for that purpose. I am inviting those who had significance in my life or career.”

Molly shrugged. “It’s your party.”

Morgan le Fey appeared, also eloquently garbed. “Thank you, dear,” she said to Molly.

“You put a curse on me! Before I was even born.”

“And have you never cursed innocents?” the Fey inquired. “Those you spoke to on the streets of Kilvarough, doomed to die soon?” She turned to Kerena. “I was correct. You had too much potential to remain with me.”

“I did learn much from you,” Kerena said.

“Of course.”

“Not all of it was true.”

“Of course. Have you never deceived others in the line of business?” And of course Nox was the mistress of secrets and deception, and was guilty.

Morely approached. “Fey, you are a fascinating sociopath.”

“Of course.” She moved into his arms for the next dance, her decolletage drifting artfully downward. She had put on her most seductive figure for this occasion.

Molly shook her head. “She has grace and nerve, but I don’t want to be like her, even in death.”

“You will never be like her,” Kerena said.

The original Sir Gawain appeared. “I would have married you if I could have,” he said, embracing Kerena.

“I know it.” She kissed him. “I finally saved our son.”

“So I see.” He kissed her again. “Oh, Rena, I wish we could-”

“We can,” she said. “Take over as hostess, Jolie.” The two faded out.

Jolie nodded to herself. So this was to be that kind of a party. But there could be complications.

Vanja appeared. “Kerena sends you this,” Jolie said, hugging her. “And wants you to know that Morely is yours, for the moment.”

“Ah, delight!” She turned, caught Morely’s eye, and the two faded from their separate locations, leaving the Fey without a dancing partner. It seemed the dream had many chambers.

Lilah appeared. She looked surprised. “I’m on the guest list?”

“It includes all those who had significance in her life or career. You helped her handle Lucifer.”

“I did,” Lilah agreed. “Because I fell in love with his successor. Now if only-”

Satan appeared. “I see Nox is busy at the moment, so you will have to do, demoness.”

“I’m second to her?” she demanded.

“Third. My true love is Gaea, but I don’t find her here.”