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CHAPTER TWO
Catherine felt strangely shy as she entered Vincent’s chamber. The man they called Father had allowed her a brief visit, warning her that Vincent had been given something for the pain and would be sleepy. She crossed the space between the entrance and the large bed, never taking her eyes off the still figure who lay there, apparently asleep. For a moment she stood looking down at him indecisively. There wasn’t much she could do. The old man had reassured her Vincent was fine, or at least he would be as soon as his ribs were healed. This is all because of me, she thought. If I hadn’t run away, if I had trusted him... “It is not your fault.” Vincent’s voice was slightly blurred from the medication, but it was still deep and resonant, and she felt herself react to it in an unexpected way. A tingle went down her spine and she blushed. “I…wanted to thank you,” she managed at last. “Father allowed me to see you for a few minutes. He said you are going to be all right soon.” A smile tugged at one corner of Vincent’s unusual mouth. “1 certainly will be. I heal quickly.” “I remember that you covered me with your body when the rock wall came down,” Catherine said thoughtfully. He didn’t reply at once, but then he shifted his position slightly to look at her more directly. “You could have escaped, Catherine. You could have left me there and made your way above.” The blush was back, but this time Catherine knew exactly what caused it. She felt ashamed. “I must confess the thought crossed my mind,” she murmured, studying her hands. When she looked at him again, she found him smiling understandingly. “Don’t blame yourself for that. We aren’t always responsible for what crosses our mind. Our responsibility lies with the way we act on our thoughts.” Catherine watched as his features sobered. She met the serious expression on his face with a frown. How could she have distrusted this man, especially after realizing that it had been he who saved her life after her drop into the underground world? She wondered how people might react to seeing him for the first time. Did they fear him? Did they see the intelligence and sensitivity in his eyes? Were they able to sense the man he was deep inside? Or did they find his unusual appearance so repulsive that they didn’t even bother to try? His eyes were closed now and she took the liberty of studying his face very closely. A wave of unexpected tenderness rushed through her as she took in his fatigue and his vulnerability. Tugging at his blanket to cover him more fully, she made a vow to get to know him as well as she possibly could. She was glad about her decision to stay below until she could convince the council of her trustworthiness. She had promised not to attempt any further escapes and she was still puzzled by the enigmatic smile the old man had given her at that. Catherine let her eyes wander across the room. She thought of her own apartment and how different it was from the assembly of odds and ends down here. Still the room exuded an aura of coziness and was testimony of an awe inspiring mind that had collected a vast variety of books to appease its hunger for knowledge. She didn’t know how long she had been sitting like that, deeply engrossed in thoughts about her life and in speculations about the man who was sleeping in the bed before her. She wondered how he had become the person he apparently was, soft-spoken, educated, and with a healthy self-esteem despite his unusual appearance. “You’re still here.” His voice was quiet and hoarse. She smiled. “Did you sleep well?” “How long have I slept?” he asked disorientedly. “I’m not sure. I lost my watch somewhere down there.” “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You needn’t be sorry, Vincent,” she replied. “It was my fault. I should have heeded your words and stayed where you told me to.” He didn’t respond to that. His eyes were still closed and she could see that speaking had exhausted him. “Why are you still here?” he inquired softly. “I promised to stay until the council decides it is safe to let me go,” she said. He struggled into an upright position and looked at her with surprise. “Is that what Father asked of you?” Catherine shook her head. “He didn’t ask anything of me. It was my decision.” Vincent lay back again, wincing when his wound made contact with the mattress. “I’m certain Father and the council know it is safe to let you go anytime now.” She shrugged. “He didn’t say so, and it doesn’t matter anyway. I want to stay until I know you’re well again.” He sighed and closed his eyes again. “That’s not necessary. It really isn’t. Your family will worry about you.” “I’m going to write a letter to my dad,” she hastened to explain. “I’ll tell him I’m going to stay with friends for a while. He’ll accept that. He always does. Actually the letter was Father’s idea. He said he’d see to it that it gets in the mail.” There was no reply and when Catherine leaned forward to look at him, she saw he had fallen asleep again. *
The days Catherine spent below passed quietly and peacefully. The tunnel dwellers were gentle people who kept to themselves most of the time, but in the evenings they got together, sharing simple meals and exchanging stories about the events of the day. The few times she got to spend with Vincent were the most precious moments for Catherine. He had healed quickly just as he had predicted, and after a few days he was able to take up most of his chores again. Vincent appeared to value his work as a teacher above everything else. Catherine loved watching him with the children. She was on her way to the study to return a book Father had lent her when she heard voices coming from the school chamber. “No, the world doesn’t have an end,” a young voice piped out. “The world is like a ball. You can go all around it.” “It does have an end,” another of the children contradicted. “If you start out at one point and travel around the whole world until you come to that point again, that’s where the end of the world is. Isn’t that right, Vincent?” Cautiously Catherine peeked into the room, instantly spotting the tall figure among the eagerly talking children. “That would be the end of your journey, Nick,” Vincent explained patiently. “Not the end of the world.” The children were silent for a while, obviously absorbing the idea. “And what if you are on the other side of the world?” little Timmy asked. “Won’t you fall off when you are hanging with your head down?” The older children laughed, but Vincent gestured for them to stop. “I don’t think it will help Timmy if you are merely amused by his idea,” he admonished gently. “I can explain it to him,” Geoffrey offered, beaming with pride when Vincent encouraged him by nodding his approval. Then his head came up and he met Catherine’s eyes over the children’s heads. Rising to his feet, he crossed the chamber, and Catherine couldn’t help but think how smooth and soft his movements were for someone that big. “I hope I’m not interrupting your lesson?” she asked, but Vincent shook his head. “I don’t think anyone concerned will mind too much,” he said with a glance at his students who put the unexpected break to best use by chatting freely among themselves. “It is time to dismiss the class anyway,” he said, walking back to his desk. Immediately the children’s attention focused on him again. She watched as he talked quietly to his students who started clearing away their school things. Catherine stepped aside to let them pass. They greeted her cheerfully as they filed out of the chamber. “The children are remarkably well-behaved,” Catherine observed as she looked after them. “They are a blessing,” Vincent replied. She turned her head and caught his gaze as he watched her attentively. “Would you like a cup of tea?” he asked suddenly. “Very much,” she said, pleasantly surprised. The opportunities to share some time with him were rare. Everybody down here seemed to enjoy Vincent’s company just as much as she did. On entering his chamber Catherine was struck anew by the unique atmosphere of Vincent’s private quarters. “Please feel free to browse,” he invited her as he set to prepare tea. Catherine started wandering about the room. Reverently she trailed her fingers along the spines of the books, ending up with a small volume in her hand as her gaze returned to Vincent. Catherine wasn’t really aware of the book she had picked. Lost in thought she watched Vincent going through the procedure of boiling water and pouring it over the tea leaves. The fringes on the sleeves of his tunic swayed with each smooth movement he made. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he worked in silence, handling the teapot and cups as if he were performing some ancient ceremony. Her thoughts drifted and she was assailed by images that floated through her mind like memories. Memories of something too far away to exist. It felt like remembering the last shreds of a dream before they dissolved and vanished completely. Suddenly Vincent turned and looked at her and for a second she wondered if he had picked up on her musings. But he just looked pointedly at the book she was holding in her hands. Putting it down, she took a seat. Vincent set the steaming teapot on the table and sat opposite her. He met her gaze calmly and with a slight smile in his eyes. Catherine was surprised yet again how easy it was to simply smile back at him. No words were necessary. People down here were familiar with silence. It didn’t make them uncomfortable and no one felt the need to fill silences with idle conversation. “Are you interested in palmistry?” Vincent asked as he poured her a cup of tea. Puzzled by the question, Catherine’s gaze fell onto the title of the book before her. “The Truth In Your Palms” she read. “I’m afraid I don’t know enough on the matter to be interested in it,” she said, laughing. “What about you?” Vincent frowned. “I’m interested in everything that might hold answers,” he said evasively. He rose and walked over to the shelf, retrieving another book. He leafed through it and finally opened it. “Do you want to know what the future holds?” Catherine asked quietly. His head snapped up and he gave her an enigmatic stare. “No,” he said. “I’d rather know something about the past — my past.” He put back the book on the shelf and returned to his chair. Without thinking Catherine reached across the table and touched his hand. She wished she could take away the pain she had glimpsed in his eyes for a moment before his guarded expression had returned. Vincent covered her hand with his free one and turned it to bare her palm to his eyes. Without being able to explain it, Catherine felt suddenly very vulnerable. She endured his silent scrutiny wordlessly and a little nervously. It was as if he were looking directly into her very being. Slowly Catherine closed her hand into a fist and withdrew it from him. She rose and walked over to the geode of crystal quartz she had noticed on his shelf earlier. He followed her and his long tapered fingers gently traced the surface of the beautiful piece. Palms forgotten, Catherine watched with fascination as he lifted the geode and turned it before her eyes so that it sparkled in the soft glow of the candles. “Isn’t it incredible that something like this grows in a world of darkness?” he asked. Catherine’s heart constricted with the wistfulness apparent in his voice. “It is beautiful,” she whispered, unable to take her eyes off his face that betrayed a childlike joy she found very endearing. “Where does it come from?” “A place we call Crystal Cavern,” he replied. “Sometimes I go there when I’ve lost my way.” There was a wistfulness in his voice and Catherine felt a tug at her heart as she imagined the beauty of the place. When Vincent became aware of her silent regard, he put down the crystal and glanced back to the table. “Your tea is getting cold,” he said, inclining his head. Catherine smiled as she returned to her mug and took a seat. She thought she had learned quite a few secrets about Vincent tonight, even though she didn’t know anything about palmistry at all. *
Catherine was sitting on the bed in the guest chamber she had been using during her stay below, when she heard footsteps on the corridor outside. She was surprised to see Vincent emerging from the entryway. He had never come to her before. She rose and crossed the room to meet him. His eyes were serious but calm. “What is it?” she asked, unable to keep the apprehension she suddenly felt from her voice. “The council has decided it is safe now to let you return to your own world, Catherine. In fact, they’ve known that ever since you...saved my life, but...” “But?” she prompted gently. “But Father felt you might want to stay for a while in order to understand what had happened and to come to terms with unresolved things within yourself.” Catherine shook her head. “Is that what he said?” Vincent nodded his head. “Basically, yes.” She smiled. “And for a moment I thought it was what you read in my palms.” His features sobered, but he held his gaze locked to hers. “I had no right to do that,” he murmured. “A person’s palm is a very private thing.” Catherine stepped up to him and took his hands in hers, turning them so that she could look at his palms. A tremor went through him as traced the mounds and valleys with her index fingers and when she looked up a deep frown was creasing his brow. “Now we’re even,” she said with a smile. His eyes softened and he relaxed as she released his hands from her clasp. They stood staring at each other for a long breathless moment before she broke the silence. “Will you guide me above, Vincent?” He flinched almost imperceptibly and she wondered if she had imagined the regret that flitted across his face at an unguarded moment. “Of course,” he replied huskily, but he didn’t move. Finally she retrieved her jacket from the bed and looked up at him expectantly. The thought of leaving this place, the people who had become her friends, and him was suddenly unbearable. As if he had read her thoughts, he reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. “You have friends in this world now, Catherine. You have a place you can come to whenever you wish. You can be a helper like so many people above who know about our world and are willing to support it as best they can.” “I would like that,” she said, wishing she knew something else to say in order to delay her departure just a little bit longer. He looked at her silently, thoughtfully, for a moment and then released her to reach inside the pocket of his cloak. He held out his hand and slowly opened his palm. A sparkling crystal caught her eye. “How beautiful,” she gasped. “It’s a Herkimer Quartz,” he explained. “It can only be found in the State of And indeed the crystal had two perfectly formed ends. She gazed at it, thinking, ‘It had to grow apart from others to become this perfect’ and she couldn’t help but compare the gem to Vincent. “What are you thinking?” Vincent inquired. She hesitated for a second before replying, “That the crystal reminds me of you.” Vincent’s fingers closed reflexively around the crystal as if he wanted to shield his soul from prying eyes. Catherine’s heart ached with the realization that he wasn’t used to seeing himself compared to anything beautiful. “And I bet it has a rainbow inside,” she whispered. He gave her a look of surprise but then shook his head. “Not this one.” “I’m certain that it has,” she insisted. “I can feel it.” He opened his palm again and handed her the little gem. “Please see for yourself,” he said. Cautiously, reverently, Catherine took the crystal and twisted it between her fingers. It sparkled beautifully in the candlelight, but no matter how she tried, there was no rainbow to be seen. Vincent regarded her silently, his head tilted to one side questioningly. “You can’t be sure there isn’t any before you’ve seen it in the sunlight,” she countered and immediately bit her tongue as she saw a shadow passing over his features. “Why is it that you know so much about crystals?” he asked before she could say anything to apologize. At first Catherine thought she detected an ironic undertone in his voice, but as he turned his eyes on her, she could see he was completely serious. “What I know about them,” she replied without breaking eye contact, “ comes from my love of them.” She raised her hand in order to return the crystal to him, but he cupped his palm around her fingers and closed them gently. “Please keep it,” he rasped. “And take it up into the sunlight for me.” Her heart went wide with the enormity of the gesture. “I will get your rainbow for you,” she promised. There was a strange intensity in his eyes as he regarded her solemnly. The pain from moments before was gone and she was relieved to glimpse a spark of serenity there. “We’d better go now,” he said, extending his hand to her. “The others are waiting in the study to say their good byes.” Catherine took his hand and as they turned to leave, she was overcome by a feeling of peace and confidence. This was not a farewell, it was a beginning. |