It was one of those days when fate decided to conspire against her. Climbing onto a chair Llyris had to get to the smoke alarm, to stop its screeching. As she pressed the button, Llyris must have moved. In a flash, that was quicker than her ability to yell for help, Llyris found she was hitting the floor, hard. Her forehead bounced off the edge of the breakfast table as she hit the floor.
She could recall nothing, and laying on the floor her reality slipped away. An enormous flash of light went off inside her brain, activating things forgotten or hidden within its depths.
Voices assailed her ears, like fingernails on a blackboard.
“Who’s this?”
“Where did she come from?”
“Is she the Witch we are looking for?”
Llyris made a wry face as she struggled to sit up. It was proving difficult; the cold tiles that were her kitchen floor were no longer under her. This floor felt smooth and cold, and with eyes that stung and a head full of cotton, Llyris managed finally to sit up. The screeching voices were unruffled and unconcerned. Offering no assistance they just continued to screech in her ear drums.
“Having problems?” A baritone voice came from behind her. Llyris could not see its owner, as her eyes just would not open with the commands her brain kept sending them. All of a sudden everything became blessedly silent.
“Thank you.” Llyris murmured.
“You’re welcome,” the baritone said “I had better get you up and take a look at that cut. Your eyes appear to be clogged with blood.”
It had been a while since a male had given her face the once over, even if it was covered in blood.
“Thanks” Llyris said as the man assisted her to her feet. As she stood, her world wavered “I appreciate ….” She sighed then promptly passed out.
Moments, hours, days’ later Llyris awoke. Her eyes opened to reveal an elegant older style library, with a dark haired man bent over some papers on a huge polished desk. He wore black leather pants, with what appeared to be dark feathers down the outer seams. His shirt was white linen with antique lace coming from the cuffs, gracefully collapsing over his hands and obscuring his wrists. Llyris let her eyes travel the length and breadth of his form.
When he looked up, she felt a little rush of pleasure. Conscious that this man was the owner of the baritone voice, Llyris spoke “I’m sorry, thankyou and where am I?” her words stumbled over each other. ‘Shut up motor mouth’ she told herself.
One of his eyebrows lifted and a playful smile came across his face, allowing Llyris to see a hide and seek dimple appear in his right cheek. Moving forward he spoke, baritone voice caressing her ears.
“Let’s see how that cut is doing, shall we?”
With steady fingers, he gently touched the swelling on the front of her forehead. Llyris brought her own unsteady fingers up, grazing his as she touched her own wound. She found herself thinking full and sensual thoughts as she grazed his hand.
He cleared his throat and his mouth drooped at the corners. Taking a step back, he watched as Llyris gently prodded her wound and the surrounding swelling. As she did so, it all slowly disappeared. Another playful smile slid across his face, and taking a deep breath he said “Well let me assure you. You are a good healer and witch!”
Llyris gaped at him, then stood and moved towards the fire. She could see her reflection in a wonderful large mirror above the fireplace and noticed that her unsteady legs had prompted him to walk beside her.
Llyris stared at her reflection in the mirror; blood was evident on her purple linen blouse. Her red and black streaked auburn hair was tousled over her shoulders, and there was also now a streaking of shocking white hair at her temples and above her forehead where the cut had been. Dismay washed over her, she could recall all that had occurred before the fall and nothing since, until the screeching voices had woken her.
“Oh, good grief what has happened to me?”
Llyris ran her hands through her hair, watching his emerald eyes, he was in thought. Llyris could see small things shivering in the mirror, but decided not to focus her concentration on them. Combing her fingers through her hair, she started to rake out flakes of dry blood. Even with the blood her hair still felt good to the touch. Smiling to herself she was pleased as she felt her hair was just one of her good aspects.
He took a deep breath and started to speak.
“You fell, obviously. Then all of a sudden you appeared in the kitchens of Our Lady of the Southern Reaches.” His eyes bore directly into Llyris’s crystal blue depths and that dimple surfaced again as he paused, smiling ever so briefly.
“You passed out, just as I arrived to get my lunch. Our apprentices received such a fright causing them to screech left and right.”
Llyris again gawked at him “Oh, I’d …. “
He eyed her briefly, and then thoughtfully he spoke “We can talk over a late lunch. Would you like that?”
“Oh, yes.” She said demurely.
“We have a lot to talk about. Oh and my name is Raine and you are?”
“Llyris” she spurted out.
Llyris felt as if this was all a daydream, yet she wanted to click her heels and jump into the air. He smiled and the dimple stayed in place.
©FI/ND 2005
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