The Lark Taps Twice

Chapter 21: Not Quite "The End"

Come back to me, love. Please, Mir. I still feel you. Your soul still calls to mine. Why don't you respond?

The void coated her like cold blackstrap molasses. She could not think, could not force her way through. Her mind knew nothing beyond itself, its connection to her body imperceptible. No concern about this state penetrated the clinging barrier. A warm presence scraped the outer surface of the goo, but the stuff would not be penetrated so easily. It pulled her deeper, away from the presence.

Who are you? Help me.

—

Follow the bond, soulmate. Follow the connection from my soul to yours. I am yours, and I am waiting for you.

The familiar voice sounded closer, and the barrier keeping her imprisoned felt thinner, more like room-temperature dark molasses than blackstrap. Still, she could not escape the sticky weight, not even when a hand squeezed hers. Relief at this return of sensation from her limbs flooded her, but when she attempted to return the gesture, her fingers did not obey her command. Again and again she demanded her hand muscles to contract, to no avail.

Exhausted from the effort, she allowed sleep to overtake her again, thinking as she did, I don't know how to reach you. Wait for me. I need to rest.

—

Miriam, listen to me. I know you are in there somewhere. Talk to me, love. I need that more than I need my next breath, my next meal. Please.

Jonatham's anguished thoughts prodded her back to consciousness. The cloying film over her body and mind had dissipated, leaving a hurricane of pain that made her moan out loud. Before the sound of her anguish faded in her ears, a set of large hands cradled her face, and fire burned away the agony. His grunt lightened her eyelids, and they flew open. His were pinched nearly closed, and she felt his fingers tremble against her skin.

"Jonatham?" Her voice rasped in her raw throat, but oddly without discomfort, like a case of strep throat numbed with a deep anesthetic.

His eyes sprang open and met hers, and she gasped at their color. Gone was the galaxy of silver sparkling on a navy iris. No trace of darkness lingered there, save his pupil; in their place were bundles of silver and bronze ribbons that constantly curled and spiraled around one another as she watched. Just as when they'd first met, she felt herself sinking into his orbs, too fascinated to break her gaze away.

He leaned close and rested his forehead on hers. "Miriam, it is so good to see you awake again. I feared..."

His ragged words drew her back to reality, and a thorn of his pain teased her brain. Needing to soothe him, she lifted her hands to his shoulders and shifted slightly to brush her lips against his.

Against his mouth, she murmured, "I'm here now, and I don't plan to leave you ever again. I love you, Jonatham."

His joy flashed brilliant behind her eyes, washing away all but the finest hint of hurt from their connection as he used his touch to angle her mouth for a deeper kiss. All her questions about what happened and if the spell was successful and where in the worlds they were at that moment melted away, and she knew only his touch and the burning heat under her skin that threatened to vaporize every part of her.

In the end, she pulled back first when this small slice of the universe began to tilt and spin. She dropped her cheek to his collarbone and gasped like a beached trout for several breaths before the vertigo subsided, and to her satisfaction, his chest heaved in time with hers for several minutes more. In the meantime, her curiosity ignited, and her list of questions grew longer and longer, as her huffing still hampered speech.

There are other ways we can communicate, my lady. Laughter added a distinct lit to his statement.

She rolled her still-closed eyes before answering. Thanks for the reminder, Your Highness. You neglected to mention the fact that you can see my inquiries before I speak them in any way. Perhaps you would care to just answer all my questions in one go and save us some time.

This time his laughter echoed in her skull. You make an excellent point, my love. Hmm... When I touched your face, your pain disappeared because I took all of it on myself via our bond; I cannot remove the actual damage to your tissues, but I refuse to witness your suffering without doing what I can to mitigate it. My eyes are changed because of the immense amount of magic I was forced to wield in order to complete the spell without the benefit of a casting circle, and they may or may not regain their former appearance. Your eyes are also different; try to see yourself through my eyes.

Intrigued, Miriam sat up and prodded around her mind, searching for a way to access Jonatham's the way he did hers. She discovered the desired space near her that place she went when she meditated by focusing on a visual point, only the visual she focused on was her own face. Clearly it was in real time, since her visage had been unmarred by scratches and bruises the last time she'd seen herself in a mirror. And her eyes...

Gone were the nearly lavender irises she'd scrutinized her entire life. Instead, fine silver strands of branching lightning divided fields of violet around the pitch black centers; as she gawked, the sparkling threads danced and stabilized over and over again. It was as though she'd captured a Colorado thunderstorm under her corneas.

"Now I have even more reasons to stare at you," Jonatham purred as he touched his forehead to hers.

The contact jolted her out of his head and revived the flame of her last burning question. "Before you distract me once more, tell me: was it worth it? Did the spell work, or will we need to find a casting circle and try again, somehow?"

His smile fell away before he responded, "I cannot answer that. I completed the chant, and the wraiths retreated, but we are still surrounded by rubble. Glowing rubble, but a delicate obstacle, nonetheless."

"Can you use our joined magic to shift the stones, now that the spell is cast?"

He sighed. "I am uncertain if I can wield magic at the moment; my concern for you overshadowed anything else after I completed the spell. I used my entire reservoir of power, plus all I could harness through our bond. What remains would not wiggle a pebble, let alone shift a mountain of wreckage, and refilling that reservoir may take years, if it can be restored at all."

A scrap of his abbreviated explanation from hours before prodded another question. "Can you weave natural magic, like a commoner, or only your own personal stash?"

His expression brightened. "Of course! My father scoffed when I insisted on serving as a construction weaver's apprentice for a month when I was a boy. 'Royals don't need to know how to weave magic,' he said, but he allowed it. I found it exceedingly tedious work, and it was long ago. I haven't practiced in years, but I may remember just enough..."

His growing hope flooded her synapses, only to be frozen over by a chasing blast of icy fear. Forcing her shoulders not to shudder, she asked, "Why are you suddenly afraid? Through all of this, you have only projected confidence and resolution. Why the change now?"

His arms trembled as they slid around her and lifted her to his chest. "If I make a mistake now, after all we have endured, after our bond has so deepened, your death would ruin me. Even were both worlds to be restored completely, and my father, friends, and pets free from harm, there would be no joy, no color, no life for me without you. I am paralyzed by all the ways I could lose you in the next few minutes. Please, Mir; can you help me through this maze?"

She nuzzled into his chest and allowed her mind to wander. She recalled the limited knowledge she possessed of this world and her also limited understanding of general physics from her classes. She imagined all kinds of possibilities, and Jonatham twitched every time she followed one to a disastrous conclusion. At last, she stumbled on one she thought might work. Jonatham, what if—

I think you have saved us, my lady. I will need to stand and use my hands to weave as you propose; stay where I place you unless I say otherwise, and we should be free in moments.