A Time of Decision

by Karen Morgia

The king, draped in elegant folds of the midnight blue silks ofhis royal robes, sat comfortably, cross-legged upon his throne. Alight breeze from the open castle windows gently ruffled the longstrands of his dark mane and the fine golden fur which covered hisface and hands. To the casual observer he would appear to benapping&endash;most dominate males tended to rest in the afternoonheat&endash;but Lord Matsuo-nimba was far from asleep. A visit thatmorning from his court magician had disturbed him and fanned to lifethe small flame of hope which had burned within his breast for overthirty years.

…My son lives… The thought echoed over and overthrough his brain. …My son lives!…

For the past several nights, Vincent’s rest had beendisturbed by strange dreams. Dreams of castles and kings and fiercefemale warriors. Normally, he would have scoffed at them;rationalizing them away as nothing more than the remnants of afantasy story, but there was something different about these dreams,something which tugged at him for recognition. The flavor of thesedreams tasted vaguely familiar--almost as if he recognized the vistaswhich flashed before his mind’s eye. Why did they seem sofamiliar and yet, at the same time, so disturbing?

Catherine stirred slightly in her sleep and his awareness returnedto the present. Turning over, he enfolded her sleeping form withinhis gentle and loving embrace. A smile kindled in his startlinglysapphire blue eyes and turned up the corners of his uniquely formedmouth as he gazed down into her peacefully sleeping face. Sheresponded unconsciously to his touch and turned in her calm sleepingstate to nuzzle against his shoulder and wrap a possessive arm aroundhim, pulling him closer. Even in her sleep Catherine would not beparted from him.

The disturbing dream was pushed from his consciousness as hecuddled down and tried to recapture the threads of sleep.Catherine’s tranquil state brought a further smile to a facewhich, up until three years ago, had rarely, if ever, smiled.

Eyes closed, breathing deep and even, Lord Matsuo-nimba focusedhis awareness inward to that minute core of his being. There, evenafter all this time, he became aware of the essence of his son,sparkling like a small brilliant diamond within his soul, andwondered why he had never recognized it before. It was there deepwithin him; the small crystal-bright seed of his son’s essence.Matsuo admitted to himself that he had never been aware of it becausenever had he delved so deeply within his consciousness before. Heshould have&endash;meditation was important for maintaining controland a means of focusing one’s power, but his ritualcontemplations had never been as in-depth as they should have been.He had been simply going through the motions for so many years thatby now it was second nature. It was just easier to appear to be incontrol and let Kenji handle it all&endash;until this morning.

Lord Kenji had forced his way into the audience chamber in agreatly disturbed state and demanded a private audience.

"My Lord, I must speak with you, immediately, on a matter of gravesignificance." His voice was steady and demanding of attention, butLord Matsuo possess the ability to prove a person’s mind andhear his thoughts; to assess a person’s truthfulness by readinghis emotions, and what he ascertained from his brother’sthoughts was wondrous.

…My Lord, I have news of your son!…

Lord Matsuo-nimba impatiently gestured for the guards to clear thechamber; the private mental message from his court magician echoingthrough his mind.

"Come forward, Lord Kenji," Matsuo said, waving the magicianforward.

Lord Kenji, younger brother of Lord Matsuo-nimba, had at an earlyage shown signs of developing into a great and powerful magician.When, at the age of six, his innate arcane abilities threatened theserenity of the palace, the king, their father, had sent him to themountain holy men to learn the required disciplines and lessonsrequired to control that power. Kenji had learned well and after theking was killed during the yearly ritual challenge, Kenji and Matsuohad joined together to bring down the usurper of their father’sthrone. Matsuo, being the elder, took the honorific ‘nimba’at the end of his name and became king. Kenji was well satisfied withbecoming court magician and his brother’s protector as he hadnever aspired to the throne anyway. The two brothers became aformidable combination and this in itself was unusual. Males of theirspecies were not be nature gregarious. Quite the contrary, theytended to remain extremely solitary, unless and until they werechosen as mates by the principal female of a family or clan.

Matsuo had been chosen at an early age and, at the time of hisfather’s last challenge and subsequent death, had become wellestablished as the predominate male of the Hidori-kai clan and wasanxiously awaiting the birth of his first child. All the omens andportents had been favorable for the birth of a son. His joy wasshort-lived, however, upon the death of his father by the usurper,Shon-kai Khan.

Shon-kai began his brief but bloody reign by attempting to ridhimself of all future threat by imprisoning Kenji and Matsuo to awaittheir execution at his pleasure and ridding the kingdom of allchildren of the previously reigning household. They were‘disposed of’…not killed, for that would have giventhe other clans provocation to rise against him…no, the childrensimply… disappeared.

Rumors of the usurper’s infamy reached even to the depths ofthe dungeon where Kenji and Matsuo joined forces and vowed revenge.Unfortunately, their eventual triumph over Shon-kai came too late tosave Matsuo’s newborn son; he had disappeared along with theother children and his mother had been murdered trying to protecthim.

The struggle to regain their father’s throne was long anddifficult and not without great price, but finally the two brotherswere victorious. Shon-kai’s final destruction was neitherpleasant nor quick; but Matsuo was at last able to mourn his loss.All the while, buried deep within him, was the small seed of hopethat one day his son would be found and rescued.

Now, after so many years of futile search for the lost children,Kenji’s words fanned that spark of hope.

"Tell me, Kenji," Matsuo demanded, barely containing hisimpatience. "What have you discovered?"

"My, Lord, he lives…of that I am absolutely certain. Exactlywhere he is and now to return her here, I have not yetdiscovered."

"Have you found nothing in Shon-kai Khan’s records? He musthave left something that will lead us to my son. He…and all theother children…must be rescued from their exile." Matsuo’svoice was firm and resolute. Tears began to fill his eyes as thoughtof his son pervaded his consciousness. He closed his eyes andendeavored to center his thoughts on his inner serenity in an attemptto quiet his emotions.

"Kenji, show me my son?" he pleaded, quietly.

Lord Kenji bowed respectfully, not out of obedience, but out ofcompassion for his brother… the grieving father. Come, my lord,we must withdraw to my work chamber." Lord Kenji lead the way fromthe audience chamber through a hidden passage behind the throne.

Vincent was up to his elbows in mud. Due to an excessive amount ofrain falling upon the City Above, sometime during the night an olddrain pipe that had seen better days, burst creating a virtual floodin some of the lower chambers. Nothing really serious, just a jobthat was wet, time consuming and very dirty. Vincent was jointed inhis labors by Mouse, Michael, and a number of other members of theunderground community. The section of pipe had been repaired to thebest of their ability. He hoped that Mouse would be able to‘find’ something that could be used to replace it when therain stopped. The only task which now remained was to clean up themess. Barrels had been placed on wagons to transport the water to adisposal point. The men and several of the children were quiteliterally bailing the water our of the chamber. Vincent had justemptied his bucket into a barrel and bent over to refill it when hehad the distinct impression of being watched. His head began to acheand his vision to fog as he reeled momentarily against he chamberwall. Shaking his head to clear the haze from his eyes, Vincentlooked down into the gently rippling water lapping around his knees.There, reflected in the gently moving water was a face; not his own,but one very similar…a face with dark many and fur-coveredfeatures. A face from a recurring dream which had for several nights,disturbed his rest. Vincent closed his eyes and shook his head andupon opening his eyes once more, the face was gone, replaced by thereflection of his own countenance.

Lord Matsuo raised his head slowly, grimly, to meet hisbrothers’ unwavering gaze.

"Why does my son work as a common laborer?" demanded Lord Matsuo."Has he been raised as a servant of a slave to toil so?"

"My brother, we do not know how he has been raised. We knownothing of the world in which he now lives. Search your feelings,brother, what did you sense from him?"

Matsuo closed his eyes and probed the feelings he had encounteredas he watched the majestic golden-maned man working, "Contentment,peace, pride in accomplishment…Kenji," Matsuo’s eyes flewopen at a further revelation. "He loves. I felt it within him. He hasbonded with a woman of that world. We must rescue him before he islost to us forever." Lord Matsuo’s voice was firm and forceful;his deep concern understandable. Their people, once chosen by a mate,bonded for life and nothing short of death could sever alife-bond.

After the strenuous work in the flooded tunnels, Vincent returnedto his chamber exhausted. With only enough reserve energy to grabsome clean clothes, a town and soap, Vincent made his way to thebathing chamber where, after disrobing, he gratefully eased down intothe naturally heated bathing pool of gently circulating water. Thepools were small circular cuts along the bank of the undergroundriver which flowed from the falls. The years of water action had worntheir sides smooth and created natural swimming pools. While theriver itself was cold and invigorating, the water in the pools washeated from an underground hot spring and the gentle current of theriver eddied around and through each small pool constantly replacingand refreshing the water.

Vincent, allowing himself to become lulled by the gentle currentof the water, relaxed and eased back against the side of the pool andlet the soothing action of the warm circulating water float away thegrime and stress of the day. Closing his eyes while relaxing, hewished for the hundredth time that Catherine could be there with himenjoying the peace and tranquillity. She had been out of town for afew days taking a deposition from a witness who loved up-state. Thecase, which had so monopolized her time the last couple of months andforced this separation, was almost ready for trial which meant thatshe would soon be able to take a few days off. Now that she livedBelow, they were able to spend more time together, butCatherine’s mob still kept her busy, making every moment theyspent together precious.

Vincent slid further down into the warm water until almost coveredby the soothing liquid up to this neck. As was customary at the endof a hard, lonely day, Vincent cast through the bond to determine ifCatherine was well and safe.

…Catherine, are you well?…

Since Catherine had become a permanent resident Below, the bondconnecting them had strengthened considerably, enabling the lovers totouch mentally and speak together even though they might be separatedby great distances. It allowed them to be always in touch and to feelone anothers presence and love no matter the distance which mightseparate them, be it between the tunnels and Catherine’sapartment or office; or cross-country. They were forever joined mindand spirit.

…Yes, love. I am well&endash;tired, but well. I sense yourweariness, Vincent. Is Father working you too hard again?…Vincent could sense a small mental chuckle in Catherine’sthoughts. She had often chided him for working too hard during herabsences, although she knew he did it primarily to keep busy, therebynot worrying too much. Nothing would ever keep him from missing her,but if he remained busy during her absences, at least hisrestlessness was kept to a minimum until her return.

…No, Father is not working me too hard. We had aminor emergency in the lower tunnels. Don’t worry, everyone andeverything is fine. Will you be home soon, Catherine: I miss havingyou near…

…I miss you as well, love. My task here is almostcompleted and I should be back soon. Will you meet me at the Parkentrance? I do have to go to the office when I return, but I willclear matters there as soon as I can and meet you at the Parkjunction. I don’t intend to let Joe talk me into anything forthe next three days…

…I love you, Catherine. Be well, my love. Hurryhome… Vincent’s parting thought brushed across her mindwith the hint of a kiss.

Vincent was not even aware of the smile on his face as he dozedoff, lying neck-deep in the warm, soothing water.

Unbeknownst to the brothers quietly conversing in Kenji’swork chamber, an unbidden eavesdropper lurked just outside the door.Akiko-cha, scion of the Hidori-kai clan overheard every word spokenwithin the magically sealed room. Kenji had neglected to insure thatthe magical spells of protection, or wards, placed about his workroomwere soundproof as well as intrusion and magic-proof.

The impact of learning that Lord Matsuo had a son caused her toseethe with anger and hatred. No one&endash;least of all a meremale&endash;would supplant her as head of the clan. Akiko-cha,firstborn of Matsuo-s second mate and his adopted daughter, was headof the household guard. A formidable fighter, she had risen throughthe ranks rapidly and was proficient in all forms of combat, with andwithout weapons. A determined glint in her steel-blue eyes boded illfor anyone who came between her and her goals.

Vincent sat up abruptly, the water surrounding him creatingnervous ripples; a feeling of danger invading his thoughts. He castwide through his bond; Catherine, Father, the entire tunnel communityall were safe. Yet the sense of danger persisted. Rising from thewater of the bathing pool to stand dripping upon the shore, hepuzzled at the feeling of danger which gripped his heart andmind.

Catherine was bone tired. The hectic pace she had set herself hadenabled her to finish the trip early, but had exhausted whateverenergy reserve remained. Very nearly asleep in the back of a taxi onher way to the airport. Catherine sensed Vincent’s puzzlementand dismay. His reaction through the bond they shared was verystrong, but Catherine poured all the love and support she couldmuster, through the gossamer mental thread, to wrap protectivelyaround his heart. She would be home soon, then she could find outwhat had disturbed him so.

Lord Matsuo-nimba had closeted himself in his quarters ever sincehis meeting that morning with Kenji. He tried to sift through hisambiguous feelings, feelings of both hope and sadness. His mind wasin great turmoil. There had to be a way to return his son tohis rightful place, but if Kenji could not find a way, Matsuo knew ofsomeone who could&endash;the old hag Wakani. The old witch had beenShon-kai’s magician for his short and bloody reign. Some saidher powers were even greater than Kenji’s, but she had been theone who arranged the disappearance of the children so long ago, andbecause of that, her life had been spared on the hope that she couldbe ‘persuaded’ to reveal their whereabouts. Matsuo thoughtof her milk-white eyes and shivered.

Over the years Matsuo and Kenji had tried to wrest the secret ofthe locations of the lost children from the veil witch, but theirschemes had been in vain. Eventually, and with great difficult, Kenjihad at least been able to learn the fates of all the children, saveone. Of the children stolen that night, only one still lived,Teng-gai, but his location had always remained hidden by the mists ofmagic…until now…now there was hope.

Akiko-cha crept silently down the stone steps, watching herfooting closely. It would not do for the commander of the guard to befound with a broken leg, or worse, at the bottom of the stonestaircase to the lower dungeons. No one must know of her visit to theprisoner kept in such absolute seclusion. No one must ever know thatshe even knew of Wakani’s existence.

"Come in, Aki. I know you are there." A thin reedy voice greetedAkiko as she neared a cell at the end of the long, dank, darkcorridor.

The cell itself was no more than eight foot square, with cold dampgranite walls. This far down in the castle there was not even a highbarred window to let in fresh air and the atmosphere revealed muchconcerning the treatment, or rather lack of treatment, the old womanreceived. Against the side wall was a raised ledge upon which lay athing mat of dried rushes. The only light in the cell came from asingle flickering candle, mere inches tall, which sat on the floornext to the ledge. There was a malodorous wooden bucket standing inthe far corner, its use obvious. Akiko-cha, proud warrior of theHidori-kai clan, wrinkled her nose at the offensive odor coming fromthe cell and apprehensively entered the lair of the old witch,Wakani.

There were no other prisoners on this level of the dungeon, and asWakani was stone-blind as well as crippled, the door to her cell wasnot locked. Precautions had been taken to prevent her escape byarcane means…the cell was warded against magic. The use ofmagical power of any kind would be turned back upon the userthree-fold. The door, although unlocked and open, effectivelyprevented her exit in much the same manner. No magic user, regardlessof power, could pass through the portal of the cell. Persons with nomagical ability could gain entrance easily, but Wakani, with herabundance of power was quite securely trapped until the king decidedto free her…or she died.

"Old woman." Akiko spoke scornfully. Dealing with the ancient hagmade her skin crawl and she felt soiled. Never would she be able toget used to the dread which crept into her soul whenever she visitedWakani.

Always a curious, possibly fool-hardy child, Akiko had happenedupon the old hag many years ago while exploring. Foreknowledge ofAkiko’s fate had led the old woman to play upon thegirl-child’s imagination with stories of warrior-maidens andover the years, those stories fed the fires of her ambition…anover-powering ambition to rule.

"So, I see you have learned of the king’s son," Wakanicackled gleefully. She had waited long for the seeds sown during hertalks with Akiko-cha to bear fruit. Her sly hints about the need of afemale ruler were now reaching fulfillment. Her revenge againstMatsuo had begun many years ago and now the plans she had set intomotion before her imprisonment, were finally culminating inthis…her ultimate revenge. Akiko-cha would kill her ownstep-brother to attain a throne which she believed could be hers. Inhis grief and despair, Matsuo, for the sake of honor, would becompelled to execute his step-daughter, which would then lead to hisown ritual suicide in order to restore his family honor. The seedsfor this eventual betrayal, murder and death had been sown evenbefore Matsuo had taken the throne a little over thirty years ago.Wakani was nothing if not patient.

The use of magic may take its toll upon the body, the proof ofthis was the old woman’s crippled body and blind eyes, yet themind stayed clear. Wakani had foreseen the outcome of the oldking’s death by Shon-kai Khan long before it actually happened.She even warned Khan of the consequences of his lust for power, buthe had scoffed and paid no heed. It had cost him not only the thronehe coveted, but his very life as well.

Now she would do the same for Akiko-cha. Her foreknowledge did notcome through the use of magic, but through dreams. She had known thatAkiko-cha would come seeking aid in destroying a long-lost brother.The time for vengeance was at hand.

"Help me destroy this so-called brother who would come between meand my dreams," Akiko ordered, "and when I rule, I shall free youfrom these hideous surroundings and you will be well cared for."

As with all their people to some degree, Wakani was not onlyempathic, but prescient&endash;powerfully so, and, as such, wasentirely cognizant of Akiko’s true thoughts and feelingsregarding her future. Once Akiko attained her goals, Wakani would diesilently, her throat cut in the dark and no one would ever be thewiser.

Sitting cross-legged on the filthy mat, arms folded, eyes glazedand gazing into--who know where&endash;Wakani rocked back and forthcackling gleefully. "You cannot hope to succeed with your plans,warrior. You will fail and that failure will mean your death." Theold blind woman sat rocking gently, turning her blind eyes this wayand that. Finally locating Akiko’s position, she fastened thoseeerie mild-white eyes upon the quaking warrior, much as a hungry rateyes a piece of discarded cheese.

The proud warrior paid no heed to Wakani’s warning, however,so intent was she on her plans for victory against a brother she hadnot know existed until a short while before. The ancient hag’swords were as if never spoken. Even at the instant of her death Akikowould curse the old woman for not warning her of the futility of herplans.

"Stop that infernal racket you old harridan. There is nothingfunny about this situation and I have much work to be accomplished. Imust destroy this person my father thinks is his son. How do Idestroy him? Tel me!!" Akiko demanded.

"You cannot go to him, warrior. I cannot aid you in that aspect. Iam very effectively prevented from using my powers."

"You tell me nothing I do not already know, old woman. Tell methen, how am I to…", Akiko began.

"Do not interrupt me again." The tone of the old witch’svoice had changed to one of steely determination and command.Akiko-cha, proud noble warrior, was cowed into submission. "Youcannot go to him," Wakani repeated. "But…he can come toyou."

Akiko stared at the aged old woman, dressed in filthy rags, inastonishment. "How? How can I bring him here? If he is mybrother, he will be as formidable as our father. He will read mythoughts instantly and will not pass through whatever portal connectsour two worlds."

"The means by which he will come to you has already begun tomanifest itself, my dear." Wakani’s words dripped with sarcasmas honey drops from a too full honeycomb. "I set the wheels in motionlong before you were even born. When I took the prince to his exile,I instilled within his mind the seeds which would eventually flowerinto a compulsion to find his beginnings. Already he is tormented bydreams and visions of our world. He will be compelled to follow thoseclues and will eventually find his way to you…and his destiny."The old woman’s face crinkled as she grinned broadly and beganher maniacal laugh.

Akiko looked at the ugly old hag, suddenly afraid that her lifewas no longer her own; that she had become a pawn in a much largergame. It was not a pleasant thought. She believed that, should herplans be discovered, she would still be able to kill the crazy oldwoman. Somehow, gazing through the cell door at the hysterical oldwoman, that thought brought no peace.

Akiko left the dungeon cell more nervous than when she entered.The sound of Wakani’s laughter followed her down the corridorgiving speed to her steps in an attempt to put as much distancebetween her and the crazy witch as was possible. …Perhapsthis is not a wise idea…, she thought, but as soon as itbrushed across her mind the thought vanished. Nothing, absolutelynothing and no one, would be allowed to stand in her way.

"What is wrong with your attention this evening, Vincent? That isthe third opening you have permitted since we started this game."Father was becoming concerned about Vincent’s lack ofconcentration. He hadn’t played a game of chess this badly sincehe was twelve and just learning the game. "Is Catherine all right?"he inquired.

They were seated in Vincent’s chamber for their nightly game.Catherine was working late and Vincent wanted to be near littleJacob, who was sleeping peacefully by his side in the ornately carvedcradle which Cullen had made for their newest arrival.

"I apologize for my inattention, Father. Catherine is well andsafe. It is just that I have not been sleeping well of late."

Father chuckled a little, remembering his own sleepless nightswhen Vincent was a babe, but then he noticed the dark circles underVincent’s eyes and his attitude of general weariness.

"Vincent, are you coming down with…?" Father’scontinuing concern for Vincent’s health deepened as memories ofthe nearly fatal breakdown last year flashed through his mind.

"No, Father. I know what you are thinking and you need not beconcerned. I am not ill." Vincent tiredly shook his head. "I justhave not been sleeping well."

"Is little Jacob, all right? Has he been keeping you up at nightfor some reason?" Father inquired, his concern and affection for hissmall grandson apparent.

Vincent smiled, turning to gaze down at his sleeping son. "My sonis quite well, Father. There is no need for you to worry about him.It is just that I have been annoyed by recurring dreams and visions.The visions, of late, have begun to torment me when I am awake, aswell as when I sleep. They are very disconcerting and the trulydisturbing fact is that I seem to recognize what I see in thesevisions." Vincent bowed his head and rubbed both hands up and downhis face distractedly. When again he raised his head, there was ahaunted look in the troubled azure blue eyes.

The dreams had been interrupting Vincent’s sleep to such anextent that he was now unable to get any rest at all. No matter whathe did to relax before retiring, the dreams and visions would awakenhim. His lack of sleep was even beginning to interfere with theperformance of his duties and on more than one occasion, he hadroused from a particularly vivid vision in the middle of conducting aclass, causing concern among the children. So many reports ofVincent’s lack of energy and inattention had begun filteringback to Father, that he decided it was time to find a solution andtheir nightly chess game presented the perfect opportunity.

Vincent had come to almost the same decision. In his heart he knewthat Father would exhaust himself trying to find a rationalexplanation for the visions…he would speculate and postulate andtheorize, never truly finding a solution. Vincent realized theremight not be a rational explanation…that only left anirrational one…and for that, there was one person who might beable to help. One individual among the inhabitants Below who mightconceivably be able to some up with an answer; one person who wouldnot scoff at his, so-called ‘flights of fancy’; one personwho could help him solve the riddle of his visions…Narcissa.

Early next morning, after spending another sleepless night,Vincent rose from his bed in the guest chamber and dressed quickly.He had moved from his own chamber days ago so as not to continuallydisturb Catherine and little Jacob’s sleep. Neither Catherinenor Vincent were happy with the change in sleeping arrangements, butboth realized its necessity.

Grabbing a piece of fruit on his way through William’skitchen, Vincent began the long descent to Narcissa’s chamber,the remnants of last night’s vision still clear in his mind.Upon crossing the threshold into the Chamber of the Winds, however,Vincent sensed a change in the ever-present air currents. Somethingwas not right, but it was an observation to be pondered at anothertime. There were more pressing matters.

Narcissa was seated at her work table, calmly grinding someinnocuous powder with a mortar and pestle, when a familiar presencemade itself known through her heightened senses. "Come in, child. Donot stand out there." She smiled knowingly. "I knew that you wouldcome to seek my aid."

Vincent smiled and shook his head in wonder, Narcissaalways knew when he was coming for a visit…even when hedidn’t know himself.

"Have you come to any conclusions about your dreams and visions,Vincent?" she asked, one eyebrow raised in query.

"I have no secrets from you, do I, Narcissa?" He spoke almostangrily for he realized she already knew of his dilemma.

"Only such things as affect your safety, Vincent. You are veryspecial. These dreams have been deliberately sent to torment you, toforce you to hunt for your beginnings. This quest is not wise. Itwill be a very dangerous time for you, child. You must be wary. I hadhoped that they would hold no power over you; that they do, isunfortunate." She spoke softly to herself, regretting the mentalanguish that was tormenting this kind, compassionate soul.

Deliberately trying to change the subject she asked, "Did youhappen to notice anything unusual as you came through the Chamber ofWinds, Vincent?"

"I sensed something, Narcissa. I don’t know what it is, butthe wind currents in the chamber do not ‘feel’ right," heanswered, remembering the sensed impressions.

"There is a force of influence at work there, child, which mayhave a bearing on what has been happening to you. The omens havespoken to me and told me what you must do. You must be careful andCatherine will want to journey with you. It is essential that sheremain here, Vincent. She is your lifeline, your anchor to thisworld. Without her, you could become lost to us. Do you understandme, child?" she demanded. "Now, you must go."

"Go? What do you mean ‘go’, Narcissa?" Vincent wascompletely mystified by Narcissa’s words.

"Yes, child, ‘go’. You will find that there is a changein one of the upper archways in the Chamber of the Winds. It nowleads to another place, another time. You must pass through to findthe reason behind your tormenting dreams and visions."Narcissa’s unsettling opaque gaze was sad. "I fear for you,child…I fear for you greatly. There will be much personal dangerwhere you go, for there is one there who wishes you great harm, evenyour death. You must beware of the female whom you will meet past thethreshold. She is your enemy."

Vincent listened carefully to all Narcissa said, still confusedbut attentive. "When must I make this journey?" he asked, not at allcertain he should.

"It would be best if you went now, Vin-cent. There are thoseacross the threshold whom you need to see and who need your aid. Oneof them is you…," she hesitated before continuing, "yourfather."

"My father?" he exclaimed. With eyes narrowed, brows furrowed inastonished disbelief, Vincent violently shook his head. "Buthow…?"

"No questions now, Vincent. Know that I shall watch over you anddo all in my power to keep you safe. You may rely on one there calledKenji; trust him as you trust me."

"Narcissa, this is all too fantastic! Why must I leave at once?"He shook his head in denial, "No! I cannot just leave without sayinganything to Father and Catherine. Whatever is going to happen cansurely wait one more day. Besides, I must think on all you have toldme. I shall meet you in the Chamber of the Winds in the morning."

"Vincent…," Narcissa began.

"Please, Narcissa. I know you can see my heart and mythoughts…please try to understand," Vincent pleaded.

Narcissa bowed her head and closed her eyes in resignation,remembering a very small boy who could never be swerved from a chosenpath…the man was no less determined. "Very well, Vincent. Sayyour good-byes. I will meet you in the Chamber of the Winds atdawn."

"Thank you," Vincent said, as he bent to kiss her lightly on thecheek. With a swirl of black wool and leather, Vincent exited thewise woman’s chamber to begin his long journey back to the upperlevels, her words spinning around in his mind.

All through dinner, Vincent was very silent and introspective. Notonly was he mulling over everything Narcissa had said, he was alsotrying to decide the best way to tell Catherine that he had to leaveher for a while and that she would not be able to accompanyhim…that she, in fact, must remain behind. It was not awelcome prospect. As they retired for the night, he still had notmentioned anything to her. Telling Father had been difficult enough,but telling Catherine was becoming well-nigh impossible.

Catherine had sensed restraint in her beloved as soon as hereturned from his visit to Narcissa. She realized where he had gonewhen he hugged her upon returning, recognizing the scent which clungto him…the incense which Narcissa always kept burning. Thoughshe seethed with curiosity concerning the mysterious visit, Catherinehad long ago learned not to pry. Vincent was still a very privateindividual. When ready, he would tell her what was bothering him.Perhaps with her lawyer’s ability to unearth the hidden truthsbehind a person’s words, she might be able to help with whateverwas troubling him. Finally, Vincent broke the silence.

"Catherine, what I have to tell you is difficult, but you mustlisten and believe that what I tell you is true," he bowed hismassive golden-maned head in sadness; the words difficult to say. "Imust leave you for a time and I have no way of knowing when, or evenif, I shall return."

As he spoke, a dread feeling wrapped itself aroundCatherine’s heart. Eyes wide with fear, she shuddered slightlyat the chilllness brought by his words.

"Leaving me…?"

"No. love. I sense your fear…it’s not like that. Thereis a journey I must undertake and…"

"I’m coming with you," Catherine declared resolutely.

"No, Catherine. That will not be possible. According to all ofNarcissa’s omens and signs, your continuing presence here is allthat will ensure my return. You know I do not like to leave you, butthis time I must. Narcissa mentioned something about," he hesitatedslightly, unsure if he should continue, "my father."

"Father?" she asked. "What’s wrong with Father?"

"No. You misunderstand," he corrected hastily. "My realfather."

Catherine looked deeply into the troubled depths of thosemarvelous crystal blue eyes, to the core of his soul, and realizedthat he completely believed with the old witch woman had told him."Vincent…," she began.

To halt her argument, Vincent leaned forward and gathered her intohis arms to hold her tightly; to indelibly imprint upon his heart andmind the feel and scent of her. With one gentle clawed finger, hetipped her chin upward and gazed into two misted sea-green pools.Leaning forward, sensing her fear for his safety and her everconstant love, the great golden-maned head bowed near to bestow uponhis beloved a kiss of love and of longing. Catherine’s arms lefthis waist and wrapped themselves around his neck, drawing that uniquecountenance ever closer. They met in a passionate kiss of desperationthat only made the thoughts of his leaving all the more unbearable.The fear of his leaving gradually grew into a whirlwind of feelingsand emotions which swept them into a maelstrom and carried them alongin its wake. As their senses became overloaded and conscious thoughtwas tossed aside to lie beside the ever-growing pile of discardedgarments upon the floor, even Vincent’s formidableself-restraint was no match for the emotions flowing around andthrough them. No longer did his imminent departure hold power overthem as lips kissed, tongues tasted, and hands caressed all thehidden, intimate, erotic places in desperation and longing. Heartsbeat faster, breaths came in gasps, spirits soared and soon there wasnothing to hold them back from achieving that ultimate pinnacle ofphysical sensation where they soared together. As hearts slowed andbreaths gradually eased, they lay peacefully in each other’sembrace; she, head on his shoulder, an arm tossed possessively acrosshis chest; he, an arm gently cradling her to him, head nestledagainst her hair; they lay with legs entwined completely sated.

Having returned to himself, Vincent must now decide how best toabandon this haven of love and tranquillity and embark on a journeyfraught with uncertainty and danger. It was hard enough on them whenCatherine had to leave to return to her job Above, even knowing thatat the end of the day she would return Below, safe. But thistime…it would be he, they worried about. Of course, his safetywas always paramount in the minds of those who loved and cared forhim, but this time his journey was fraught with danger and unknownperils and there was the very real possibly that he might not prevailagainst the mysterious enemy of which Narcissa warned him. All thesefears were felt, but no voiced as Vincent and Catherine nestled ineach other’s embrace. Morning would come too soon; their partingtoo bittersweet to dwell upon. They soon fell asleep content in theirlove; their apprehension pushed aside. For now, there was only eachother, their bond, and the constancy of their love.

"I am here, Narcissa," Vincent called, trying to make himselfheard over the persistent roar of the ever-buffetingcurrents…the Chamber of the Winds had been well named.

"Come, child. It may already be too late. You must enter throughthe mist. You will be met on the other side, but beware of the onewho first speaks to you and do not trust all you hear and see.Remember, trust the one called Kenji, for it is by his power that youwill return." Head bowed, she hesitated before continuing, "Takegreat care, child of light." At this last, Narcissa’s voicebroke with emotion though she tried to maintain control. Vincent hadalways been very special to her.

Observing her distress, Vincent placed a comforting arm around hershoulders. "Do not worry, little mother. I will be careful."

At the use of a name not used since his childhood, Narcissa raisedher head and wished once again, as hundreds of times before, that shecould see the incredible face of this very special individual. Hermemory only held the vision of him as a child, for her sight hadfailed long before he had become a grown man. Now she saw him only inher imagination. "You have not called me that in many years,Vincent," she commented. A gentle smile appeared upon her face andher eyes crinkled with amusement and then immediately sobered, "Come,it is time for you to go." She placed a gentle hand on his arm andindicated an archway filled with mist.

Turning toward the threshold of the unknown, Vincent felt a burstof trust and love flash through the bond he shared with Catherine andrealized that she had sensed his hesitation. Looking down at Narcissastanding quietly at his side, he was fully aware of the thread whichnow connected him so steadfastly to another; another life, anotherheart. Never would he be alone again…no matter the distancewhich might separate them physically, Vincent and Catherine werejoined together eternally. Eyes closed, Vincent endeavored to touchCatherine with his thoughts of love and knew instantly that he hadsucceeded as once again her love brushed across his heart and mindwith the feather-touch of a kiss.

The faint caress of Catherine’s thoughts still brushingacross his mind, Vincent opened his eyes and gazing at the portalthrough which he must soon pass, his demeanor sobered instantly.

Thoughts of Catherine prompted him to make a request of theancient wise woman. "Narcissa?"

"Do not worry for the woman’s safety, Vincent," Narcissainterrupted. "I already know what you would ask. She will be wellprotected."

"Thank you," he said quietly and realizing that there was notfurther reason for delay, turned and stepped toward the dauntingthreshold to the unknown.

As he stepped through the veil of mist, Vincent felt a tinglingsensation and paused to look back over his shoulder at Narcissa. Shestood, eyes closed, arms raised, palms facing outward toward him asshe sang a lilting, sing-song change in a soft voice. Halted as hewas, halfway between two worlds, Vincent could have sworn there was adelicate tendril of golden light crossing the distance betweenhimself and Narcissa, and as he watched transfixed, it gently coileditself around his body bringing with it a sense of love and warmth.As the end of the golden light detached from Narcissa’sfingertips, the tingling sensation ceased. Narcissa’s eyesopened and she nodded with satisfaction. Looking down at himself,Vincent observed a pale golden aura surrounding his body.

Realizing that the old wise woman had somehow used her power toprovide him with a means of protection, Vincent continued through themisty curtain that separated him from this world and the next.

…He is here!…she thought.

Akiko-cha was secluded behind a large pillar in the throne room,for this was where the old hag had said ‘he’ wouldappear…and appear he did…big and strangely attired in along black cloak, its hood pulled up to shadow his features. As shemoved from her hiding place, the stranger turned toward a barelyperceived motion across the cavernous room and pulled the hoodfurther down around his face.

The sight which greeted Vincent, however, was astounding. Steppingfrom behind a massive pillar was a figure nearly as tall as he. Cladin a short leather skirt, leather breast-band, and thing-high leatherboots, she, for the figure was very obviously female, also wore legand arm guards, dagger hilts protruded from her belt and a boot-top,and she had a sword strapped across her back. Stepping nearer,Vincent observed a fine golden fur covering her entire body and thesteel-blue eyes staring unblinkingly in his direction contained nohint of welcome. Unlike him, her hair was close-cropped and thecountenance which faced him was as like his own as his reflection inthe Mirror Pool.

She moved toward him slowly. "You will not…," she seethed.Her threat was interrupted as another figure entered the room fromthe secret door behind the throne.

"Lady Akiko, what are you doing…?" At the sight of the tallstranger in black leather and wool, Kenji halted his progress downthe steps from the dais and instantly recognized the identity of theindividual gazing at him curiously from the depths of the concealinghood.

"My Lord Teng-gai," Kenji murmured as he bowed to his lord’smissing son and heir.

Not knowing what else to do, Vincent bowed in response and wasdisconcerted when upon meeting the other male’s eyes, wasgreeted with a full-throated roar of welcome and a smile which didlittle to hide massive canines. The roar brought immediate responsefrom the guards standing sentry duty outside the throne room and uponrealizing she had missed the chance, for the moment, Akiko snuckquietly from the room; vowing to remove this dark stranger from thepicture at the first opportunity.

Lord Kenji instructed the sentries to inform the king of along-awaited visitor and then slowly approached his long-lostnephew.

At his approach, the golden aura surrounding Vincent flaredmomentarily and Kenji was taken aback in awe at its power.

"You have powerful protection, my lord," observed Kenji withinterest, well aware of the identity of the tall, golden-manedstranger, standing so silently in the center of the cavernous throneroom. Kenji was, nevertheless, also aware that the aura of powersurrounding the stranger had been placed there by a powerfulmagic-user, for there was no hint of magic from the strangerhimself.

Vincent was still a little overwhelmed by the events which had sorecently transpired. One moment he was in the Chamber of theWinds…the next in an entirely different setting…quiteobviously a different world. He had stepped through a misted archwayto find himself in an alcove curtained off from a much larger room.Stepping through the curtain he is confronted by a perceived enemyand then greeted by an official-looking personage he remembered fromhis dreams and who hailed him as ‘my lord’. Everything washappening too quickly and while he normally felt in complete controlof his life, there he seemed to be floating along upon a current ofevents which threatened to carry him away. It was a veryuncomfortable feeling and one, he wasn’t at all sure he liked.For the moment, however, there was not enough information availableto make a decision as to a course of action. The impressions he hassensed from the warrior who had crept silently from the room upon themysterious male’s arrival, were definitely hostile; yet hesensed no such psychic warning from the very official-lookingpersonage walking toward the door. Vincent stood silently, notmoving, as the doors to the throne room opened slowly.

Sensing the stranger’s hesitation, Kenji halted and turned toface him. "If it pleases you, my prince…I shall escort you toyour father." Kenji bowed respectfully and gestured for Vincent toproceed him through the massive, ornately carved wooden doors thatwere slowly being opened from without by the sentries on duty.

"Who are you?" The simple question rumbled through the cavernousroom as the echo of Vincent’s deep, soft voice reverberated offthe walls.

Kenji was taken aback, for the voice was exactly as he rememberhis father’s sounding…deep and soft; full of confidence andbarely controlled power.

"Your pardon, my lord," apologized Kenji, bowing once again. "I amLord Kenji, Master of Mysteries, magician to your father, theillustrious Matsuo-nimba. I also have the distinction of being hisyounger brother and…your uncle," he answered smiling.

"My uncle?" exclaimed an astounded Vincent.

"Yes, and you are the Lord Teng-gai, firstborn of LordMatsuo-nimba, king of this land. Please, my prince, no questions now.Your father will answer all." Once more he gestured for Vincent toprecede him. The guards outside, all female warriors, stood atattention and formed themselves into an escort of honor as Kenji ledthe way toward the King’s private chambers with Vincent walkingsilently beside him.

Vincent’s mind was awash with questions. Where was he? Howdid he get here? His ‘father’? Was Catherine safe?Tentatively, he felt for the bond which connected his spirit with thebeautiful woman who loved him and had banished his aloneness forever.He loved her deeply, with all his being, and yet as far apart as theyso obviously were, the bond connecting then held true; she was thereclose and safe within his heart.

The next few hours passed as if walking in a dream and Vincentgradually began to believe that these were truly his people…hisfamily, yet he felt no connecting ties. For all their connection byblood, these people could never take the place in his heart and mindoccupied by Father, Catherine, little Jacob, and the rest of hissubterranean family back in the world he knew best. After being shownto his quarters for the night, Vincent remained awake for long hoursreviewing all that had transpired since leaving Narcissa’sside.

Just as he began to drift off the sleep, Vincent, sensing amalevolent presence in his room, started awake and rolled off the bedto the floor just as a dagger imbedded itself in the wall above wherehis head would have been. A palpable feeling of animosity permeatedthe atmosphere of the elegant quarters.

"You will never sit on the throne, pretender," hissed a femalevoice from out of the shadows.

"I have no wish to," he replied cautiously. "Who are you that youfeel so much hate for someone you do not even know?"

"You will learn the answer to that only when I killyou…male." This last was spoken with such venom, Vincent sprangfrom his crouched position on the floor with fangs and claws baredfor battle against his unseen assailant.

"Come no closer," he warned through clenched teeth. "I have nowish to harm you, but I will defend myself and anyone else whom youwould harm."

"You are the only one I wish dead," came a whispered replyfrom across the room. "Be assured, I will kill you, but itwill not be like this, in the dark like a common assassin. No…Iwill kill you honorably…in combat. Though such a death would bewasted on such as you, you will die in the arena of honor." There wasthe whisper of leather against stone; a silhouette in the window,outlined by the moonlight, paused and turned, "Prepare yourself fordeath…brother." Vincent’s unseen antagonist disappeared outthe window leaving him standing tensely in the center of his room,contemplating both the words spoken as well as the unvoiced,underlying emotions. There was a familiarity surround the emotionspermeating the atmosphere of the bedchamber…a familiar flavor tothe taste of the hate which touched his mind…the warrior fromthe throne room that morning.

"Brother?" he pondered the possibility. "If so, why does she hateme so?" He shook his head sadly, climbed back into bed an calmlypulled the dagger from the wall before falling into a fitfulsleep.

The next weeks passed in discussions concerning the state of thekingdom, the rituals of the people, and all the other day-to-dayduties of an heir to the throne. Vincent was given little time toeven explore the new world he now found himself heir to. Yet all thewhile, there was an apprehension sensed by Matsuo whenever Vincentmentioned ‘the Tunnels.’

The Lord Matsuo was known for his tenacious spirit and indomitablewill. In the weeks since his appearance, he had steadfastly refusedto call Vincent by any other name but ‘Teng-gai’. Thisrankled Vincent, but he soon grew accustomed to it; though heabjectly refused to think of himself as anything but‘Vincent’. In addition, Matsuo availed himself of everyopportunity to belittle the circumstances and people surroundingVincent’s upbringing…his prime target&endash;Catherine. Hecould not countenance an alliance between his son and a female fromanother race…from another world. Vincent’s attitude towardthis new land became tainted because of Matsuo’s incessantderision of the people and places he loved.

Despite all his efforts, Lord Matsuo could no more destroyVincent’s love for his family than he could…than he couldfly. Though he refused to admit it’ even to himself, his son wasfor now and ever after, irrevocably connected to that other world bya thread as insubstantial as a thought, as gossamer as aspider’s web, and as beautiful as the sound of a child’sjoyful laughter.

The bond which had sprung to life that night in the park, when hehad found Catherine, was Vincent’s hold on himself, his reasonfor living. Catherine was as necessary to his life as breath. Neveragain would he feel alone in a world which threatened his veryexistence, which would look upon his face and cry out in fear.Surrounded as he was now by people who looked as he looked, thatother world seemed far away, as indeed it was, and yet soon a time ofdecision would be upon him…to stay or to return.

Time passed slowly for Vincent. The first rose-gold rays of therising sun found him upon the battlements gazing out across thecountryside. It was quiet moments such as this that he missedCatherine the most. She had always dreamed of seeing him in thedaylight, the sun bathing him in its soft golden light; but it wasalso at times like this when she seemed most near and he could feelher thoughts of him.

For many weeks, Vincent had found himself wooed by the beauty andapparent peace of this land. The people were friendly and congenial,the vistas breathtaking, yet he was always aware of an underlyingfeeling of tension in the people, of violence tightly controlled.

Sometimes that control slipped. There were sporadicoutbreaks…males fought among themselves for status, femalesfought over mails, adolescents battled for the fun of it. Though noneof it contained the mindless madness that had at times grippedVincent, it all put a great strain on his inner balance. He wasconstantly mindful of the raging river of emotions which lay justbeneath the surface of his consciousness. It was hard enough keepingrein upon those emotions back in the Tunnels, where Catherine couldhelp, but here among a people who accepted such violence as a way oflife…it was nearly impossible.

Sitting down, he leaned back against the rampart wall; one legstretched out before him. The other was bent with one arm wrappedaround it. It was a position Catherine would have recognized as histhinking pose, for she had often found him sitting thusly at theChamber of the Falls when there was an important decision to be madein Council.

The one dark spot in his possible acceptance of this world lay inCatherine’s absence. He had, at first, hoped that this landcould be the answer to the dilemma of his life with Catherine; hopingthat, perhaps, they could live in this world. There was muchin this land to admire, and perhaps with time, come to love; but itwas not home, with its constant golden illumination of flickeringcandlelight and continual tapping of messages on pipes. He could feelher love pulsating continuously through the bond they shared, but helonged to gaze upon her beauty once more and his arms ached to holdher.

The decision was not so difficult to make after all.

Events, however, have a habit of stepping in when a person leastexpects it and messes things up. Before Vincent had a chance to speakwith Kenji concerning his return to his own world, the time of theritual challenge of the king’s right to rule arrived.Vincent’s morning, spent in closed discussions with Matsuo andKenji, was interrupted as a sound deep and mournful rolled over thecountryside. The sound reverberated through the glens and valleys,echoed through the halls of the castle with a foretelling of deathand blood. The ringing of the temple gong announced the king’sritual challenge, and as proscribed, Matsuo retired to preparehimself, while Kenji and Vincent answered the call of the templebell. Entering the temple, they were surprised to find the altar ofChallenge occupied not by a male wanting to prove his worth, butby

Akiko-cha, dressed in battle armor, a katana held in her hand. Shespoke the ancient words of challenge all the while her eyes glued toVincent’s large, frowning, silent form.

"Now is your time…brother," she hissed through clenchedteeth, her eyes narrowed with hate. "The time for weakness is past.If you are to be our new lord, you must prove yourself." Raising hersword above her head she roared her challenge.

Kenji stared aghast at his niece. "What do you think you aredoing?" he demanded. "No female may issue challenge to the king."

"I do not challenge the king, Lord Kenji. I challenge hisheir…my brother…to prove his fitness to rule this land,"Akiko uttered with scorn, sword still clenched tightly in a clawedfist.

"I will not fight you," stated Vincent calmly. He could sense thewarrior’s almost palpable animosity, but would not, could givein to the emotions writhing through the chamber and turned toleave.

Her hate and anger became more than she could bear. With a snarland a scream, Akiko leapt from the altar, her sword raised high tostrike. The magical golden mantel surrounding Vincent flaredprotectively to life as he turned, fangs and claws fared.

The tunnels in Vincent absence, were too lonely to remain therewithout him. So Catherine had moved herself and little Jacob Above toher apartment until his return. With her son sound asleep in thebedroom, she was sitting on the pastel blue settee in her livingroom, legs curled beneath her, calmly perusing a deposition she hadbrought home from the office.

The trial was going well and would, hopefully, go before the jurytomorrow; right after this witness’ testimony. But as on othernights since Vincent’s leaving, she couldn’t seem toconcentrate on the words swimming around on the page. Her mindpreoccupied with worry for him, she put the file aside, leaned herhead back, and closed her eyes. She became instantly aware ofVincent’s danger. Throwing the file on the coffeetable, Cathyrose swiftly and paused only enough to slip on a pair of shoes,bundle Jacob in a blanket, and grab her keys. Once reaching thetunnels below her building, the sense of urgency increased as shesped toward the Home Chambers. Her speedy passage reported via thepips, Father was waiting as she entered his study.

"Catherine, it’s so…," Father began.

"Father, I’ve got to get to Narcissa’s chambers and Idon’t know the way myself. Please," she pleaded, "help me." Herbrow furrowed, green eyes wide with worry, Catherine desperatelyneeded to get to Narcissa’s secluded retreat. Jacob, waking andsensing his mother’s distress, began to cry.

Father hesitated. He neither believed in nor approved ofNarcissa’s so-called power; yet, somehow, Vincent’saffection for the strange woman had carried over to Catherine. Thatknowledge, plus the fear and desperation in Catherine’s eyes,made his decision for him.

"Very well," he agreed resignedly. "I’ll have Mouse guideyou." Rising stiffly from the chair behind his desk, Father exitedthe chamber momentarily, leaving Catherine pacing back and forth,nervously wringing her hands. Father reentered the study to findCatherine sitting in Vincent’s large red velvet chair, her eyesgazing at nothing as she absentmindedly tucked one errant spray ofhair behind an ear.

Brows furrowed with worry as well, Father reentered his study tostand silently in the archway studying Catherine. She was obviouslydistressed and understandably so. Vincent had been gone two weeks andno word had reached them as to his whereabouts. He had met Narcissaone morning in the Chamber of the Winds and had then vanished. Theonly reason they even knew this scant bit of information was becauseMouse had followed Vincent to his rendezvous with Narcissa andreported back to Father. Mouse’s narration of what followedcould only have been a fabrication, and yet the young man was notcapable of lying. What he had recounted could not really have takenplace…could it? Father combed nervous fingers through steel-grayhair and descended the last few steps to the floor of his study. Sointent was Catherine, she never heard his approach and jumped,startled, as he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Mouse will be here presently, Catherine. What is it that disturbsyou so?"

"Father, I know you don’t understand this…connectionthat Vincent and I share." Her voice faded as she remembered the lasttime she had seen him. "But believe me when I tell you…he is indanger. Don’t ask me how I know…I know and I must help himany way I can. He forbade me to follow him, but…"

At that moment a figure appeared in the upper archway ofFather’s study.

"Yes, child. Come, he needs your strength."

Narcissa held a hand out for Catherine. Not even thinking,Catherine raced up the spiral staircase to join Narcissa on the upperlanding. The two women turned and entered the passage without even abackward glance at the bewildered elder gentleman standing in stunnedsilence in the center of the book-lined chamber. "My word!"

Catherine was surprised when Narcissa did not lead the way down toher chamber, but instead headed toward the Mirror Pool. Almost as ifto answer her silent query, Narcissa turned and sadly shook her head."There is no time, child." With that terse statement, their pacequickened until they passed through the final junction to the pool.Without saying a word, Narcissa knelt at its edge, closed her eyesand began a quiet chant, then motioned for Catherine to kneel besideher.

"Watch!" she commanded, and Catherine was compelled to comply. Thescene she saw reflected in the quiet water nearly stilled her rapidlybeating heart. Vincent was engaged in mortal combat, unarmed, againstan obviously crazed, sword-wielding female.

"Concentrate, Cath-er-ine. Concentrate on your love, concentrateon the bond which connects you. It is the only thing that can savehim."

Akiko, sword raised high to strike, was so single-minded in heranger that she completely ignored the other presence in the chamberand was taken completely by surprise as she began her downswing, tofind another person standing between her and her goal.

Lord Kenji had begun a chant of protection immediately as Akikoleapt from the altar, but incantations require time, an few moments,a few heartbeats to execute. He never got the chance. With a snarl,the cross-swing of Akiko’s blade cut Lord Kenji open fromshoulder to hip, He crumpled, dying, to lie in a growing puddle ofblood on the floor.

Vincent, crouched, claws extended, surrounded by a bright goldenlight. As he died, Kenji did the only thing possible to help protectthe nephew he had come to love. Pooling his last vestige of strength,he gave all he had and transferred his last remaining power. Therewas a brief flash of bright light as the aura surrounding Vincentflared and crackled with additional energy. Lord Kenji fell back,dead to the floor.

Lips drawn back, fangs exposed, Akiko attacked again, but as sheattempted another killing blow with her sword, it slid harmlesslyalong the edge of the magical shield surrounding Vincent. Shescreamed with rage, threw the sword aside, and leapt forVincent’s throat, claws extended.

"Vincent!" Catherine screamed, clutching at the woman kneelingbeside her. Narcissa, help him!" she pleaded, frantic with worry.

"I cannot…but you can. Follow what your heart tells you," sheinstructed hastily.

Vincent intercepted Akiko’s airborne body in mid-leap and,reaching up, propelled her across the room. As he touched her, sheroared with frustration and swiped at him with razor sharp claws. Hebarely managed to turn his head aside to protect his eyes as sheclawed at his face, just missing the carotid artery in his neck andslicing along his jawline. Akiko landed with a thud. The metalfastenings and stiff leather of her armor scraped across the marblefloor as she slid nearly thirty yards away from the massive maleroaring in pain. She watched as the had he placed against the side ofhis face came away covered with blood.

The adrenaline pumping through his veins, the smell of blood inhis nostrils, broke through the barrier he had placed around hisother self…the half of his personality that was so abhorrent tothe cultured being who inhabited the gentle Tunnel world so far away.Vincent shook his head, trying to maintain control, all the while adeep menacing growl was growing deep within him…the Beastwould be free. As Akiko rose from the floor and once againcharged at her hated for, the Beast broke those final feeblerestraints holding him captive and, now released, steeled himself forthe coming onslaught of his assailant.

Lips pulled back in a menacing snarl, the Beast lunged athis advancing enemy. All that mattered to his rage-filled brain wasrevenge against the one who had hurt him. The blood pounded in hisbrain and everything appeared in a reddish haze to his crazed mind.All rational thought was wiped away and in its place was theinstinctive primordial reactions of a wild beast. Once released fromconstraints, he didn’t think, didn’t consider his actions,all he did was react to the situation surrounding him; usually withlethal results.

Akiko-cha didn’t realized what she had unleashed when sheattacked Vincent. Now, there was no Vincent…only theBeast with a taste for blood…her blood.

Roaring his rage, the Beast dived and rolled underAkiko’s charge, immediately leaping to his feet behind her. Sheturned instinctively as he attacked, feinted to the left and thenchanged direction slashing at his chest with her razor sharp claws.Again, she was successful in drawing blood, as the chamberreverberated with the renewed roars of the Beast’spain.

One corner of his crazed mind registered the knowledge of hisinjury, but Vincent was too overcome by the rage of the Beastto regain control. The Beast crouched low, awaiting hisfoe’s next rush, completely oblivious to the blood dripping fromthe wounds on his chest and puddling on the pristine marble floor. Henever took his eyes from his enemy’s face.

Catherine crouched helplessly beside the Mirror Pool, tearspouring down her cheeks splashed soundlessly in the serene water. Thedrama unfolding before her eyes was terrifying, yet she could notturn her gaze away. The emotions roiling through the bond were soprimal, so frightening, and yet they excited her, and she wasashamed. Vincent always tried so hard to control that violent side ofhis nature, to keep it in check, and oft times were successful. Butthere had been times when only Catherine’s presence had insuredhis return to sanity. How could she help him now? He was so far away.She never felt the compassionate hand that Narcissa placed on herback.

Akiko stood, shaking. Never had she been bested in hand-to-handcombat, yet this untrained male was holding his own. He wasstrong…much stronger than she had anticipated, but she wasconfident of her victory and began her next attack. Contemplating hernext move, Akiko was unaware of the subtle movements of her target ashe slowly inched his way toward her. Thinking herself almostvictorious, Akiko committed the cardinal sin of personalcombat…she took her eyes from her foe’s face for a splitsecond.

Only a fraction of a heartbeat, but it gave the Beast theopening necessary to attack his prey. Springing forward withastounding speed for such a massive individual, the Beastdived toward Akiko. His razor sharp claws hooked the large calfmuscle in her leg and flipped her over, where they tumbled togetheron the floor. L Instantly, rolling this way and that over the coldmarble, they were locked in a primitive battle of fang and claw,Akiko-cha fighting for her very life. The Beast, fighting nowonly on the instinct of survival, endeavored to sink his fangs intothe soft unprotected neck of his prey. In that, he was unsuccessful,but at one point he was able to make a slashing attack, opening alarge gash across her chest just above her armor, and slicing throughthe top three layers of her lacquered battle dress. No small feat,considering the armor was designed to stop a steel tipped arrow. Shefinally won free and scurried backward across the floor from hersnarling antagonist in a desperate attempt to get away. Gasping forbreath, she warily eyed the slavering Beast rising from thefloor to face her once again.

This outcome was no longer so certain. The thought that she mightnot emerge victorious had never occurred to her before now. Akiko-chana Hidori-kai didn’t like to lose. Tickling at the edge of hermind, however, was a thin reedy voice that kept repeatingsomething…words she refused to acknowledge or recognize.

The Beast, rising slowly, never took his eyes from the faceof his adversary. The cold, rage-filled, ice-blue gaze held nocompassion, no remorse, no pity. A snarl from deep within his massiveheaving chest, rose in intensity to the crescendo of a rafter shakingroar and the chamber reverberated with its primal force. Step byagonizingly slow step, the Beast advanced upon his for; eachclaw-tipped finger flexed and ready to tear and rend.

Seeing her death reflected in those clod, unblinking eyesAkiko’s blood ran cold. She knew that no longer could she relyon her own prowess to win this battle. There were other lesshonorable ways to win. Swiftly, she bent and reached a hand to herboot, withdrawing a small white-handled, thin-bladed dagger. Therewas no need for a larger weapon; one nick of the poison-coated bladewould be enough to finish off this last obstacle in her path to thethrone.

In the next moment, three events happened almost simultaneously.First, the door to the chamber crashed open as Matsuo-nimba strodeinto the room surrounding by his personal guard. His entrance washeralded by the sound of maniacal laughter filling the room. Thenjust as Akiko drew back her arm to fling the poisoned dagger, afamiliar, beloved, anguished voice screamed a name."VINCENT!"

Even through the befuddled reddish haze fogging his mind, thatvoice was recognized and acknowledged by the Beast. Dazedly,the Beast turned in an attempt to locate the source of thatbeloved voice, and in doing so, made his unprotected back a primetarget for his very dangerous adversary.

Akiko couldn’t believe her luck. The way looked open for hervictory at last. Once more she readied the dagger for flight,completely unaware of the danger at her own back.

So intent was she on vengeance, the sound of the chamber doorscrashing open, masked by the insane laughter, never penetrated hersingle-mindedness. All that was important was removing the laststumbling block to her plans. As she threw the dagger, willing it tofly try, her brain finally registered the additional sounds ofshouts, clanking armor and roars of outrage behind her.

A scream of terror cut through the air like a knife through softbutter, as the Beast dropped instinctively to the floor. Thepoisoned dagger whizzed past him and clattered to the floor, itsdeadly velocity spent.

Akiko, staring dumbfounded toward her quarry slowly rising fromthe floor, crumpled to a heap as a dagger protruded from her back,thrown by the hand of an angry king in protection of his son. Guardsscurried methodically around the chamber securing all entrances andexits, as Matsuo, tears flowing unheeded down his face, knelt besidethe fallen body of his dying daughter. "Why?" he pleaded. "Why?"

Her words were faint and barely audible to the king’s ears.Just before expiring, Akiko-cha na Hidori-kai finally recognized thewords that had been buzzing around in her brain like an angrybee…Wakani’s solemn words of warning, "You cannot succeed,warrior. You will die at the hand of your father." With her lastbreath, Akiko cursed the old witch to the Hell of a ThousandTortures, just as had been foretold.

Matsuo rose slowly to his feet, faltering slighting, his heartaching for the death of his beloved daughter. His brother, dead; hisdaughter, dead; his son…

Vincent stood dazed in the center of the chamber staring at hisblood-stained hands. His face and chest burned with the pain of hisinjuries; his heart, crying out to Catherine in agony at what he hadbeen forced to do. No matter where he went, Death followed."CATHERINE!" His anguished roar echoed through the room,mocking him. Only in her arms could he find forgiveness; only in herarms could he mourn; only in her arms could he find peace once more,but she was not here. The decision had been made.

"Teng-gai!" called Matsuo as he walked sadly toward his son."Vincent," he said more softly as he placed a comforting hand onVincent’s shoulder. "None of this is because of you."

"No!" Angrily, Vincent shrugged the hand away. "It is not becauseof me," Vincent growled, jerking his head up to gaze into hisfather’s sorrowful eyes. "It is your doing! Why couldn’tyou have left me in peace with those I love and who love me. If youhad left well enough alone, they," he pointed angrily at the bodieson the floor, "would still be alive!" Eyes closed, fists clenchedtightly at his sides, Vincent raised h is face high and once morecried mournfully, "Catherine!"

"Narcissa," sobbed Catherine, tears coursing unchecked fromsorrowful green eyes, "we have to bring him home…how?"

"What does your heart tell you, child? Are you not stillconnected? Use your love…it is strong enough to reach acrosstime, across any distance…call to him. The two must be madeone."

Catherine’s sobbing gradually quieted as the old woman’swords touched her heart. Their love must draw him from that world ofblood and death. He must come back to her. She took a deep, calmingbreath, closed her eyes so as not to be distracted by the images inthe Pool, and softly called his name, allowing all the love andacceptance she possessed to flow through their bond to strengthenVincent.

There…a voice…calling his name softly, "Vincent!" Itthrummed through his body like a vibrating harpstring, carrying withit the essence of Catherine’s love and trust in him.

He roared in anguish realizing that there was no longer anyoneable to aid him to return to her…Lord Kenji was dead.

Suddenly Vincent stopped, eyes wide, he listened intently. Amental tug initiated movement and he began to walk slowly toward thehuge bronze temple doors. All the while his heart felt her love, hisears heard her calling his name, "Vincent!" Without a backwardglance, Vincent raced from the temple and ran headlong toward thecastle; toward the place where he had originally entered thismaddening world.

Reaching his destination, Vincent threw open the massive carvedwooden doors to the throne room and strode impatiently into thedarkened interior. Standing in the center of the dark chamber he feltentirely alone and abandoned, except for the ever-constant tug uponhis heart. "CATHERINE!´ Her name was torn from h is lips as hefelt her presence gradually fade. He could still feel her life-forcethrough their bond, but could no longer hear her voice. Falling tohis knees, he wept in despair. "Catherine!"

"Have you so little faith in my power, Vin-cent?"

The quiet, lilting voice invaded his anguished weeping and Vincentlooked around for the source, having recognized it immediately."Narcissa!"

"Yes, child." The voice was calm and full of compassion

"Narcissa…Kenji…he’s dead. There is no way for meto return," he cried, once again hanging his head in grief. Taking adeep calming breath he continued, "Please, watch overCatherine…"

"You will do that yourself, Vin-cent."

"But there is no way. Kenji…"

"I know of the magician’s death, Vin-cent. Do you notremember what I told you before you left? That it would be byKenji’s power that you would return home…you nowpossess that power. Before he died, Kenji transferred all hisremaining strength and power to you. Can you not feel it?"

Silently, Vincent delved within himself and felt the warmcomforting feeling of his uncle’s love. "Yes…I can feelsomething, but I don’t have the knowledge to use thispower."

"Child of Light, close your eyes," she instructed. "What do yousee?"

"Only blackness, Narcissa," he replied flatly.

"No, child. You look in the wrong place. Look with yourheart…now what do you see?"

The golden aura surrounding Vincent flared brightly, its flowinterlaced with flashes of bright silver.

Matsuo, concerned for his son’s state of mind, had followedVincent from the temple. Standing in the open doorway of the throneroom, he was astounded by the brightness enveloping his son. Alone,he entered the chamber and silently pushed the great doorsclosed.

"I see a light in the distance, Narcissa. A very faint, but steadylight," answered Vincent.

"That light, child, is your Catherine; her love for you shiningbrightly. It is the guide to lead you home," stated Narcissa.

"But how? I don’t know how to use the magic," arguedVincent.

"Child," Narcissa’s voice admonished gently, "never ask‘how’ of magic. Just believe and it will be so."

Unable to remain silent any longer, Matsuo called softly,"Teng-gai…my son." Standing not ten feet from Vincent’skneeling form, the king had witnessed only Vincent’s half of theconversation.

Vincent, startled, leaped to his feet and spun around to face hisfather.

"What are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough?" demandedan outraged Vincent. The air surrounding him began to crackle andspark with power. With definite effort of will, he calmed his racingemotions; they must not get out of hand now…now when he was soclose to know the answer.

"I only wanted to make certain that you were well, Teng-…Vincent. You are my son…I love you," Matsuo affirmed.

"Love…you don’t know the meaning of the word. I haveknow more love in the world where I grew up than you can ever hope toexperience." …Oh, Catherine!…, his heard cried.Vincent, head hung low, arms hanging almost nerveless at his sides,reflected deeply upon the possibility that he might never return toher side. Every second, every moment they had shared, now became evenmore precious. On…all the times that had been lost in theirfirst years together. How could he have squandered all those preciousmoments? Nothing…absolutely nothing was more important to himthan returning…to her…his heart.

"I cannot stay here! But I cannot return home, either." Vincentraised his head to face Matsuo, unshed tears glistening in eyes ofdeep sky blue. "You profess to love me, because I am your son; then,help me! I am nothing without her and she is not here. She is mylife. Without her I will die. Please, help me return," hepleaded.

Matsuo could no longer deny the truth to himself. The bonding ofmate-to-mate; life-to-life, was common among their people. Had thisbeen a life-bond, as he originally suspected, his son’s lifewould have been a lonely one, but he would have learned to live withthe absence of his mate. But this…this was deeper and morepermanent. His ability to see within a person’s heart finallywon out over his selfish desire to have his son near, for this was abond few of their people had ever experienced, although it was notunknown. A soul-bond…a connection of destinies that wasunbreakable and irrevocable throughout eternity. From one life’sjourney to the next, two so joined were destined to find each otherover and over, for…no matter how…love cannot be denied. Twoso joined, when separated, could not live without the other…theywere two halves of one soul and, therefore, incomplete without theother.

"Narcissa?" Catherine’s voice cracked with emotion andtears.

"Patience, child."

"I realize now, that my motives for wishing you returned were, asyou say, selfish, and perhaps I did drive Kenji too far in my questfor your return. Also, I never truly let myself care for Aki; I amguilty of neglect of her, but I truly loved your mother, althoughapparently not with the intensity and depth with which you love thiswoman from another world. I do love you, my son."

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of the chamber doorsbeing opened. Matsuo whirled around and snapped, "Get out! Leave us!"As the doors closed once again, Matsuo turned to face his son’sdesperation. Vincent stood dejectedly in the center of thechamber.

"Now, child. Call to him!"

"Vincent!"

His head snapped up, eyes searching for the source of that belovedvoice.

"Come back to me!"

Vincent looked once more to his father. "I cannot stay here," heremarked bluntly. Then, remembering Narcissa’s words, Vincentclosed his eyes and dived deeply within himself…his spiritsurging toward the brightness at the end of the long, dark, mentaltunnel…the brightness that was his Catherine.

Matsuo had to step back from his son as the aura surrounding himflared and crackled, lighting the chamber with flashes of gold andsilver and enveloping Vincent in a cocoon of power. He stood silentlywithin the maelstrom, head thrown back, eyes closed as tentacles ofpower writhed and coiled about his body with every-increasing speed.The coils quickly encased him in an opaque cocoon and Matsuo couldonly stand powerless as sight of his son was taken from him and asthe flashes of power slowly faded, the king stood alone in thedarkened chamber… Vincent had vanished. "Be happy, my son."

A gleeful, deranged laughter soon encroached upon his grief,filling the chamber with its venom.

With lips pressed firmly together in a thin harsh line ofdetermination, steel-blue eyes turbulent with hate, Matsuo strodepurposefully from the chamber. Throwing the massive wooden doorswide, he grabbed a dagger from the belt of a sentry standing guardoutside the door and made his way resolutely toward the lowerdungeons…it was time to put an end to this farce.

At the Mirror Pool, Catherine kneeled silently, eyes closed, thebond connecting her to Vincent vibrating with the power of her love.She jumped, startled, as a gentle hand touched her shoulder.Expecting to see Narcissa’s solemn, concerned countenance,Catherine was shocked as she gazed up into a pair of tear-filled,piercingly beautiful, sapphire-blue eyes.

She leapt to her feet to become enfolded in a strong, safe,love-filled embrace.

"Vincent! Oh, Vincent!" she cried, tears unashamedly spilling downher cheeks.

Vincent, tears of joy coursing down his own face, pulled hertightly against his chest, buried his face in her hair and whispered,huskily, "I love you, Catherine. I love you."

Narcissa, standing just out of sight and holding a happy, cooingJacob, nodded. "Come, little one, let us leave your parents some timefor themselves. I will take you back to your grandfather." She smiledknowingly and turned down the tunnel toward Father’schambers.

Written, 1991. Submitted/published in In Your Dreams, May1992, by Guinn Berger.