The Muse (Special Edition) is the new novel by 21st Century Writer/Author, Marcus K. De Storm which will be available this Autumn (2022) but will be available here on HiveQuilibrium Exclusively on eBook FREE for a Limited Time Only.

1 Palermo

It was June 5th, one of the hottest days of the decade as I remember it. The whole city was alive with raised cheers and jubilant songs as from afar news came of a Royal Wedding. In all my days, I had never really witnessed anything as surreal as people changing from melancholy sadness, to that of instant happiness – except for me, of course!

My son and his wife had seen me off on the plane some four days earlier, and my intentions of contacting them to let them know I was alright came close to the point of denial by cause; the word processor before me as I sat at a table in the hotel dining room had laid for the whole duration of breakfast without a single word typed.

  ‘You’re a writer, I can tell!’ an overweight woman with a thick British accent called over to my table in the small dining area of the hotel. ‘Have you written any titles that I would have read, maybe?’

The remark in itself screamed out at me to return an equally loud answer of “I very much doubt it”, but for the question that begged me to stay absolutely silent. My tongue burned with the pressure from my teeth as they pressed down into the soft, tender flesh, while down by my side out of view my hands tightened into fists.

  ‘I’m afraid not,’ I managed the few words of reply before closing shut the laptop gently, standing up and returning to my room quietly.

I was hot, sweaty, and profusely incoherent of suggestions or an order of process to think. The whole matter of me coming out here to Sicily was to embark on a journey of inspiration and peace to write – something that was restricted to me back home in England. Maybe I was already homesick! Maybe it was the lack of chaos and noise that surrounded me back there where only twenty-three novels to my name were laid down within a structured several months, or maybe, just maybe, it was because the inspiration that besieged me then, could not be found here in Palermo?

Pulling off my Rahun jacket and discarding it to the bed, I walked onto the veranda to gaze out, across the beautiful horizon and then scanned down to the ground floor where the shimmering water from the swimming pool suddenly became appetizing.

  ‘Wow!’ I gasped almost tranced by the dazzling fixed sparkle that somehow beckoned me to it. The sunlight was so different, so vibrantly mystical, but all the same majestic in its shine.

  ‘It looks tempting, doesn’t it?’ a voice suddenly sounded out from nowhere.

Looking around I saw nobody to match the voice until again it sounded out, only this time, I was met with the most color set eyes of spectacular blue I’d ever seen.

  ‘You could make it to the water from here, if you jumped out far enough from the veranda, that is!’ A woman of slim build and long black hair called over from the apartment next door. ‘Of course, I don’t know anyone who has actually tried or succeeded in the fete!’

I gave a quick look down at the pool before turning my gaze back to the woman, who was now trying to climb over the short partition to join me. Her thin sarong catching the railing, hitching it up slightly to reveal a rather beautified two-piece swimming costume that flattered her figure completely.

  ‘They say you haven’t experienced everything here in this city until you have experienced something wild! Maybe that’s why you haven’t written a single word since you arrived here!’

The words from the woman were outbound to my thought processing, or maybe they were too astonishing to take in for a reply or answer. Whatever the reason, my only response was to look at the woman with both bemusement and puzzlement about her statement.

  ‘You speak very good English…’

  ‘What makes you think that I’m Italian?’ she suddenly came back with a question to my assumption – an assumption that had me question myself, twice. The observation wasn’t to insinuate that she was Italian, though being on an Italian Island such as Sicily, it may have been asked of her a lot.

  ‘I’m sorry, who are you?’ I conceded to the more direct approach of inquiry.

  ‘Athena,’ she replied with an outstretched hand that hung in the air waiting to be taken. ‘Athena Catarina Grazia, and you are…?’

Her pause was hypnotic, though the gazing glint of her eyes was just as powerful to my mere wandering thoughts to the introduction which technically proved my observation was correct as to her origins. I was silent far too long, as well as untied to the fact that her arm was now tiring from hanging in the air.

  ‘You’ve been licked!’ she exclaimed breaking the awkward silence walking up to me and suddenly appearing close.

  ‘Licked?’ I gasped.

  ‘The sun has been mean to you… your face is burnt!’

The matter was cleared up there and then, while a lazed hand rose to my cheeks to feel the heated swell brought on by the rays. I was red hot.

  ‘I’m not used to the climate here,’ I whispered, my gaze leaving Athena for only a second, but returning to see that she had disappeared from her spot.

  ‘Come inside out of the heat, I will dampen a cloth for you. Come, I won’t bite you!’ she laughed before making her way into the bathroom and soaking a facecloth under the cold tap and returning. ‘Here, sit down and put this across your face. It will soothe the burn.’

I did as she asked and sat down on the low sofa before letting this stranger, this woman place the cloth carefully and gently onto my face, the sudden welcome feeling of relief spreading through my flesh as the cold flush had me sigh aloud.

  ‘Good,’ she said, ‘the moisture will ease the discomfort and take away any pain. Unfortunately, however, the rest of your body will be rather paler than your nose and cheeks.’

Athena’s words were mesmerizing to my senses; the twist creased Egyptian fabric limiting my view of her, while in my inner mind’s eye was the fading remnants of her face.

  ‘Thank you… for doing this, I mean.’

She said nothing. The cloth was repositioned but didn’t find its way from my face, except the edges near to my ears that trapped the sounds of day within its fabric.

  ‘Your name!’

  ‘It is unusual, is it not?’ she spoke up.

I nodded to the cloth giving way and sliding from over my eyes to see the young woman staring into my eyes.

  ‘Not unusual… more of it being Majesty, maybe?’

Athena laughed out loud while standing to her feet and walking back to the veranda, her arms swaying freely as she did so until finally arriving at the railing where she turned to face me once more. It was now, right at this very moment in time, that I looked at her with an encravious luster that was neither of want or need, it was just a systematic urgency of her to stay a little longer.

  ‘Please, don’t go!’ I pleaded with an almost hint of begging.

She smiled warmly. ‘Ah, but I must, you see, my Mother will be returning very soon, and she does not like me talking to any strangers – not that I am calling you a stranger. Maybe we could have a drink later when the sun goes down and you feel less pained by your sunburn?’

This sounded fine, more than fine in fact. ‘Yes.’

With a skip in her step, Athena disappeared toward the wall divider between the apartments and climbed the partition to return to her room. Again, I found myself alone.

A Night In Palermo

The day passed slowly, most probably the slowest of all days since I arrived. Eventually, however, it passed from day into night and I had still not written a single word. From the very moment of the young woman leaving the apartment, to the moment she returned and came knocking at the door, I had thought of only one thing in between – Her.

Opening the door I was met with a sight of innocent beauty that entwined grace and fashionable glamor; her dress flattering the very radiance that she had displayed earlier, while a sorting of her hair into style and neatness showed off pearlescent drops of sequins that caught the low lights of the hallway just right. She looked absolutely beautiful.

  ‘Palermo awaits us,’ she winked with a cheeky smile.

I hadn’t really thought of going into the city during my time there, except maybe giving the occasional visit to the bar down in the lobby of the hotel. With a passive nod, I pushed the door open and walked back into the apartment.

  ‘I don’t really feel like…!’

  ‘Going out and having fun?’ she came back with an answer that was intended to trigger an emotional response, but instead, it had me turn and look apologetically into those beckoning blue eyes of hers.

  ‘I’m sorry, I just want to…!’

  ‘Have the party come to you?’ she interrupted again, only this time striding up to me and taking a hold of my hand. It was an act which I later regretted her doing, but it was done.

Pulling away from her touch I walked around her and made my way to the apartment drinks cabinet, an old classic teak and mahogany wood structure that had seen better days. From it, I took a glass and tall bottle of premium label Bacardi.

  ‘You carry a burden on your shoulders that no man should have to bare…!’

I was immediately filled with rage. ‘STOP IT!’

The unexpected scream brought no surprise or shock to Athena, not even a reaction that would have any other person jump with a start or gasp – there was nothing.

  ‘I will if you do, too?’ she whispered.

I couldn’t find the anger to speak, though the not so happy look upon my face was indication enough that I was near to the Tipping Point of some unrelenting statement that once said could not be taken back.

The Bacardi swashed around in the glass, a single ice cube bobbing in and out of its alcohol stain that lashed against the edges and stuck with a temporary fasting. In a single raising, I knocked the entire contents back and down my throat before I prepared myself with puckered lips for the backlash that came with a warming feeling through my body.

  ‘You should go,’ I whispered, ‘I’m not very good company this evening, Athena.’

The woman refused to believe that I was anything but good company, to which she made sure that I knew exactly what I was that night in no uncertain terms.

  ‘That’s not true! You are happy… fun… you just need to see that for yourself. Besides, I made a bet with the Grumpy Monster that I could have you laugh out loud by midnight.’

The statement, or be it a poke of fun at my outburst, was an enriched attempt that almost worked. My lips were parting ever so slightly to show a minute grin if that is what you would prefer to call a restrained pathetic smile.

  ‘The Grumpy Monster! Are you serious?’ I asked returning to the bar, but instead of refilling my glass I decided on pushing it gently away from me. ‘There is no such thing as The Grumpy Monster, Athena.’

She gave out a tremendous laugh so loud that it vibrated through my body and stirred a real smile on my face, I turned to her with a shock of “What The Fuck!” and again, set her off laughing even more. She had managed to do something that no other person on that island could have done.

  ‘Alright, you win!’ I conceded to the invitation to go into Palermo with her. ‘But there are conditions…!’

  ‘No drinking after midnight, unless they are doubles. No dancing with two left feet, and I do believe, if I’m not too mistaken, you don’t Snugglefuck on the first date. Right, is there anything I’ve forgotten?’ Athena spewed out a crescendo of the most preposterous examples I’d ever heard in my life.

  ‘Seriously! Two left feet and Snugglefuck!’

Taking a hold of my arm with a clinging hang, she led me to the apartment door before turning back to look at the room with a sigh. It was an act I had no idea of why she did, but this would be something that my mind would concentrate on throughout my time with her that evening.

The journey down in the elevator was quick enough, I do remember that much anyway, considering that it was so early in the evening. The coupled soft hugs and little chit chat with Athena had the time passing from one moment to the next, while our exit of the front foyer to a waiting taxi brought my thoughts to England.

  ‘All this time and you never told her?’ She whispered in my ear as the taxi set off for The Sky Rouge Nightclub.

  ‘It’s complicated.’ I sighed unintentionally.

Athena looked at me passively while she occasionally glanced out of the back window. I, too, looked out into the streets that were speckled in places with both tourists and natives to the country, each getting on with their own business and lives as if there were no worries or cares that they had to face.

  ‘Is this your first visit to Palermo, Signore?’ the Taxi Driver asked, his head bobbing up to look at me through the rearview mirror.

  ‘Yes, it is.’ I replied in an almost finalized tone to his probing question.

  ‘The Sky Rouge is a good place to start… it is the center point of Palermo, as you will see, nobody is ever disappointed by its beauty,’ he continued talking while keeping a firm eye on the road ahead. ‘Some say it is where all the real magic happens.’

Within a few minutes, we arrived outside the nightclub, its colorful neon’s and floodlights that covered the front lighting it up like a beacon in the night. At the entrance were all manner of clientele, many who were dressed in outrageous costumes, while others dressed down into casual wear of sorts. Tipping the driver he gave a wide smile before driving off into the loaded traffic as I turned to face Athena, her face showing a satisfied grin that led me inside by the arm.

  ‘Why don’t you find us a table…?’

  ‘Table! Don’t you want to dance?’ I interrupted.

Placing a finger to my lips she gave an unheard “Ssshhh”, and then pointed over at a row of sitac tables that were surrounded by comfortable soft chairs. ‘Over there. I won’t be a moment.’

Having made my way through the large crowd to the seats I sat and waited for Athena to come back from wherever it was that she had disappeared to, most probably the toilet, but this was just a guess. Eventually, after a long several minutes I saw her in the crowd, she was dancing her way toward me while joining in with others just so as to make it through the very large gathering until finally reaching my table.

  ‘I took the pleasure of ordering drinks, you don’t mind, do you?’ she shouted down to me over the sound of very loud music.

Nodding my head I invited her to take a seat across from me, which she shook her head with a very stern refusal.

  ‘I can only dance at a time like this… it’s a natural thing to dance while I wait for my drink to loosen me up a little.’

Her words made total sense, and why wouldn’t they? She was young, vibrant, free-spirited, just like the woman that had made my life so complicated as to a vision inside my head.

  ‘I have an idea, come with me,’ she shouted with a grab of my arm to pull me up from the comfortable seat.

Athena led me through the crowd to a wide stretched set of stairs that ran in an arcen-type shape up to a second floor, it’s décor and lighting different to that of the lower floor we had just ascended from in many ways; argon lasers flickered, span and rotated in time to a more lively musical offering, the people here more private in their dress, official almost to a fact that it seemed private – a VIP Lounge, maybe.

  ‘Are we supposed to be up here, Athena?’ I asked in a wandering cautious tone that had her turn and smile at me.

  ‘Of course, here in Palermo, everyone knows who you are, even those who are unknown and unfamiliar to the rest of the world. Don’t worry, tonight you will drink and dance away the fears you hide inside.’

I couldn’t help but notice that she spoke so confidently – loosed to a point of uncaring what my reaction would be.

We walked on further through the excited crowd to a door that was guarded by two burly men in black suits, their expressions changing from vacant to alert as soon as Athena and I stopped in front of them.

  ‘Boys, meet The Writer,’ she introduced me in a loose manner that both flattered and yet perturbed me.

One of the men reached up to some kind of ear-piece that immediately had him nod and open the door for us to enter. Pulling me inside, Athena continued to smile with that ray of confidence that was by now starting to concern me. Here I was, a stranger on the island, unfamiliar with the many customs and laws that they held, while in front of me was a woman – that of a complete stranger – leading me to a place I was also unfamiliar with.

  ‘Wait! Where are you taking me? What is this place?’ I half demanded to her, my feet refusing to take another step.

  ‘As I said, tonight, you will see the world is beautiful and filled with people who don’t want to see you sad anymore. It is a place of Fantastical Wonder and magic… you are not fearful of magic, are you?’ she replied with an answer that had me more afraid of what lay ahead than when we first entered.

  ‘Maybe I should go back to the hotel…!’

  ‘And will going back to the hotel cure you of your greatest fear?’ she cried, squeezing my hand a little too tightly.

Pulling away from her I stared silently for a moment.

  ‘Nobody knows my greatest fear …’

  ‘What do you want, if not to finish The Crimson River?’

And there it was. I had been a stranger to Athena, or so it seemed at the beginning until at last, she mentioned that one reason why I was there in Palermo. Nobody, except for me knew the title of the book that I was now working on, not even those closest to my side.

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘You’ll see. Come on, follow me, there’s someone who wishes to meet you before the night is over.’ she answered as a final tug brought my feet to move once more and follow her aimlessly down a short corridor to another door.

  ‘Does any of this seem familiar?’ she asked, before turning the door handle and pushing open a door that opened up to a large hall filled with a marvelous gathering of men and women wearing Masquerade Masks. Was this a Ball?

Frozen to the spot I looked around the whole room, my eyes taking their time to take in every detail; the walls, the floor, the hanging paintings, pictures, windows and even the arched staircase which led up to a Valentian veranda door that allowed the dark speckled starry night outside to be seen so clearly.

  ‘Am I dreaming all of this?’ I gasped my realization of where exactly it was that I stood.

  ‘Do you feel like you are dreaming?’

  ‘I… I don’t know. I don’t know what I feel.’

Releasing her grip from my hand, Athena made her way over to a man in a very fashionable suit that was unlike any of the others in the room. Leaning forward and whispering in his ear, he looked over to me, his eyes through the holes in his mask giving away a slight hint that he knew me. A moment passed until he and Athena walked over to where I was stood and bowed.

  ‘I am Consort Raymundo DuLupo, I am so glad that you could make it, Athena tells me that you are uneasy with surprises!’ the man introduced himself with a reassuring smile.

  ‘Consort!’ I gasped.

  ‘Of course, we are of a time and age that is not so dissimilar to that of our past, as you know by your writings. Come, I will introduce you to everyone…’

  ‘Everyone!’

There was a moment of knowing that seemed to quicken Raymundo’s pause in his original suggestion, one which Athena, too, picked up on and agreed with an attempt to speak out to us both.

  ‘Ah, I apologize, my haste is more a curse than a gift in these affairs, please forgive me?’ he bowed with an apologetic look before making his way to my side and holding out a hand at the crowd. ‘These people have traveled from places all over the world, many from your home, while others from America and other European cities and countries beyond. They come here for the festivities and celebrations that are vast and plenty, while in a more cordial way, it is the connections between one another. Tonight, it is you, yourself, who is the attraction…’

I gasped. ‘Me!’

Raymundo was being polite in his letting me know of the night ahead, as he was showing just how much faith and enjoyment he shared by reading my work. He turned and faced me in a way that for my own benefit indicated that he, too, was one of the people that had made their presence a surprise for all the guests and visitors in that room.

  ‘Athena, where does she fit into all of this?’ I heard myself ask over the melodic music.

  ‘Exactly where you wish her to fit.’ he replied taking a hold of my arm and pushing me gently into the crowd.

Around me each and every person who stood in the hall moved, danced, gyrated and shuffled in an almost unnatural synchronized sequence. Their clothing and masks of Venetian, Valencian and even Provincial to the customary dress of Borello and the rich surrounds of Evermore, too. This was a themed Masquerade Party, surely, that this man – and most probably Athena – had organized for this one particular visit I had kept to myself. Which begged the question: How did they know of my visit?

Turning to Raymundo I shrugged my shoulders and waited for him to approach me.

  ‘All of this…’

  ‘Is in your honor,’ he smiled politely.

I was starting to feel overwhelmed. ‘This is the Great Hall…’

  ‘It is indeed. Why don’t you take a place on the veranda and I will have Athena bring your drink up to you? Maybe you could see the Midnight Sun before the fireworks display, too?’

Crazed with the silent idea that this was something that had been set up by family, friends or my agent, I gave a loud sigh into a nod. ‘Why not, it would be a shame to spoil all the work you’ve put into this, Raymundo.’

He was pleased. Clapping his hands and making haste to find Athena, I made my way up the stairs to the large Valencian doors that were opened by two men dressed in what could only be described as Borellian Staff Hand uniforms. While outside on the veranda, I found the night air warm, inviting and teasing to the fact that before entering the building it was of a much cooler feel on the skin. Now, however, the whole atmosphere, both inside and out, had changed somehow.

  ‘There you are!’ I heard Athena call over to me. ‘I was looking for you downstairs. Would you like your drink?’

Handing me a widened glass filled with a dark liquor substance I accepted it, swirling its contents around slowly and carefully as not to spill it.

  ‘What is this?’ I asked putting the rim of the glass to my nose.

  ‘Brandy, of course,’ she replied suddenly appearing to have a glass of her own cradled in her hands. ‘It is the customary drink, is it not?’

The charade was becoming injected to my soul; there seemed no reason why I should play down the night for the sake of my mind playing on my dilemma, nor spoiling it for those who had gone to so much trouble in preparing and staging this truly amazing party that mirrored places and characters in my work down to the finest detail.

  ‘It is, and as a custom, it is not polite to stand and chat while someone such as myself longs for a dance, Lady Athena!’

To be honest, I knew my sudden implant into this moment, or be it this night, was a little odd for Athena at first. But, as soon as I showed that conceding smile that signaled my acceptance, she, too, beamed a satisfaction that had her grab a hold of my hand and pull me forward.

Together we danced – Bohemian style – for what felt like hours, but was only a matter of minutes in the cloud of a moment. I was happy, overjoyed, even, to the fact that letting go of my worry had relaxed me in such a way that I really did believe nothing could spoil it.

  ‘You dance like a natural,’ she complimented me.

  ‘No two left feet, I believe,’ I laughed.

With a curving grin that shaped a smile, Athena burst out laughing along with me. She looked so happy, so vibrant and so carefree of anything, but there was something there within the smile, within the laugh, that indicated a tipsonic darkness that was holding her back forcefully from uttering a word.

  ‘If I may say, Athena, you look absolutely beautiful tonight?’ I whispered in her ear as we span and twirled under the lights.

It was at this very moment of saying this that it all changed.

The Last Person In Resheen

Consort Raymundo approached me from the crowd in a way that told me he was hesitant of his actions, and in turn, his eyes matched the disturbance that he radiated. Whatever this was, I was sure it wasn’t good.

  ‘My apologies for the interruption, Signore, but there is a young woman to see you… I tried to tell her that you were…!’

Suddenly, from the main doors of the hall, there was a loud shout that had me avert my gaze from Raymundo, it was a woman’s voice that filled and covered the atmosphere in a way that even the music seemed to bend to her tone.

  ‘WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?’

Giving a slight bow to both Athena and Raymundo, I excused myself before making my way down the stairs toward the young woman, who had already begun ascending toward me with her head down.

I was filled with a feeling, neither a good nor bad feeling, but a strange one that told me to hold caution. And with a quick scan of the woman, I gave a smile. ‘Good evening, I am…!’

I was unable to get any further words out of my mouth before I was suddenly met with a knife to my throat, though this was no ordinary knife, I must add; the powdered blue tints of painted design between each handcrafted cut was joined to a tempered short blade that by knowledge alone, I knew these were not the sort for deterring would-be attackers or peeling apples of their skin.

  ‘I know who the fuck you are!’ she exclaimed with a pressured push against my throat that brought nothing but silence. ‘And, by the look in your eyes, you know who I am, too. Would you like me to continue?’

Forcing my eyes shut I shook my head carefully from side to side, before opening them again to look into a pair of distant, lost blue eyes that had my heart racing. ‘I would prefer it if you would put the knife away, if that suits you, that is?’

The woman was majesty, beautiful. But there could be no way on Earth I was sharing the same air as her. I was worried – very worried.

  ‘What did you do to me?’ she whispered.

  ‘Do to you, I don’t understand!’

Releasing the pressure from the blade, the young woman put it back into an empty slotted leather sheath that displayed several others in a short line down the front of her chest. The Leatherall outfit which was partially hidden under a long black Caspian cloak that held a wide hood which stretched across the back of her shoulders, was a sure giveaway of the woman’s identity, as I should know, because it was I who gave them to her in my books.

  ‘You killed me!’ she exclaimed taking a single step away from me, before turning her gaze to the floor.

For everyone in that hall that night, the appearance of the young woman was something of a surprise, as well as a great honor, I suppose. But still, it was an appearance that my mind found impossible to accept – she was not real.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Athena asked appearing behind me and placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

  ‘Stay out of this, Athena, or I will…!’

  ‘Will what, exactly? Strike me down? Oh, please, even you could not draw a sword before me, you would be dead before your hand reached its hilt… oh, sorry, you already are, aren’t you, Blaze?’ Athena hissed at the woman.

The standoff between the two women was intense, silent and prolonged to a point where I had no choice but to intervene.

  ‘Maybe I could…’

Blaze, or be it Danielle La Grande broke her cold stare from Athena to look directly at me. ‘No!’

Athena started to laugh, which in turn annoyed Danielle.

  ‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on here… maybe I’m having some kind of surreal nervous breakdown or something, but I have to insist that you two ladies calm the fuck down and take a step back, Okay?’ I shouted up putting out my hands between them both.

Athena and Danielle were both unimpressed, it was clear that they had issues with one another, and whether I intervened or not, it would be these issues that they would conclude themselves. But, in the moment of expressing my confusion in everything, I was met with both women placing a hand on my shoulders as if for comfort or apology.

  ‘You are tired from our dance, maybe we should return to your hotel room and bring in a new day without all of this…’

Danielle was having none of it. ‘Maybe you and I should go and visit The Quarter, where it is less full of loosed women who want nothing but to get into your good books!’

This was not good, as Consort Raymundo had observed and was now jittering around close to me wanting to know about the rest of the evening’s entertainment.

  ‘Maybe you could both escort me to the Veranda, where we can watch the setting of The Midnight Sun, or would that be beneath you, perhaps?’ I hastened a solution.

The two women glanced at each other before quickly turning away and sighing into their zones of woe and then nodded in unified confirmation of one another.

  ‘Then I can assure Raymundo that the party continues, without pause or violence that will spill blood upon the floors, Danielle, Athena?’

They nodded. My courteous, albeit apologetic nod to the Consort, was given to continue the celebrations, while the two ladies and myself made our way back up the stairs and onto the brightened moonlit veranda.

  ‘Before I began writing stories, my mind was set on poetry alone, which has still superseded any other work I have done. The last poem I wrote was…’

  ‘The Muse!’ Athena exclaimed correctly.

  ‘That’s right, but how did you…?’

My understanding of this strange, if not haunting experience was hard for me to grasp; there seemed nothing that Athena didn’t know about me, or my work, which also included some of my personal life, too. Odd was the appearance of Danielle La Grande, while what started to burn in the back of my mind was where she fitted into all of this strangeness.

  ‘You wrote “The Muse” in the final book that ended The Bordello Tales, which I thought was a little…weak, shall I say, considering the overture of the poem was based on some latch and key nobody wanted to know about anymore,’ Athena said in a voice filled with jealousy and disrespect.

  ‘And what about you, Danielle, what did you think of the poem that was by all intentions written for you?’ I asked turning to a blank-faced Blaze, who had taken from her chest belt again the knife that was still stained with my sweat.

  ‘I think she’s right!’

  ‘You do?’

Danielle leant forward. ‘You love too much Writer when your goals and dreams have already been beset for the future. I was an idea, but then became the shimmer that you threw to one side like a forgotten thought. From that thought, you now have a problem… or two, perhaps, which neither me or Athena can help you with. Only you can decide where you go from here, and quite frankly, if it be hell, then so be it.’

I was shocked more than anything else of Danielle’s speech, her whole composure dithering on using the knife, but her glances and looks at my face changing each time the want – or need – to carry out such an action urged her. She was in a state of Flux, and that Flux was getting the better of her.

  ‘Would you care to dance, Lady La Grande?’ I asked while the whole talk of poetry was tossed away to invite a fresh feel to the situation. ‘If you accept I will allow you one question to ask of me before the turn of a new day. Do you accept?’

It was not a trick question, nor was it a question that would raise any kind of suspicion as to ulterior motives, either, it was one that could give explanation and closure only. If it was that which she needed.

Accepting we both made our way into the middle of the huge veranda, our hands meeting both palm and waist alike until finally, we began to pace, step and sail. The music was melodic, less the slow song as a tempo enriched modern tune that had the beats flowing with the soothing swift movements of dance.

  ‘You find it odd – worrying – that someone such as me is standing before your eyes, and yet, I can feel every beat of your heart that tells me this pleases you,’ Danielle spoke up.

  ‘It’s… complicated!’ I whispered.

Her observation was correct. Here I was with what was only that of a dreamistical wish of a needing heart, and an essence that brought every part of my being, my humanity, to launched enrichment – I had to tell her.

  ‘You aren’t what I expected,’ she began, ‘and yet, by the touch of your hand and warmth of your embrace… you are…!’

  ‘Everything that you expected?’ I interrupted to her sudden, if not distracted step that knocked her balance.

Immediately, as if I had no defected reaction with getting older, I caught her tumble, steadying her in my arms and for a brief, but eternal paused moment I looked her deeply in the eyes.

  ‘I… I’m…!’ I stuttered with a begging for the words to make an exit from my lips, but they failed to co-operate.

The moment was lost.

  ‘Are you alright, Lady La Grande?’ A voice enquired while in the passing of seconds, she was taken from me and steadied to her feet.

The man, unfamiliar in his look and disguised by the black seamed Mask with settled diamante shaped doves that now had me gasp with both pride and envy both. Although this was a gentlemanly action taken upon the man’s part, it was with a subtle rejection of an outward push and look of objection, that Danielle turned her gaze to the Consort.

  ‘A drink for Lord Cavendish,’ she ordered before walking away from the two of us.

Raymundo gave a confirmed nod, just as she disappeared into the large crowd. As for Lucas – Lord Cavendish – his slight glance upon me gave him need to be introduced, which with a greatened pleasure the Consort built up to do just that.

  ‘Lord Lucas Cavendish, may I introduce The Writer.’

Being honest to myself, he was of a perfection of descriptive intention, both by my building of his character and that of the excessive exaggeration that many writers, like myself, place in their work. Lucas was my favorite of all the male characters as well as the well-to-be Xander O’Neill. The least I expected was his tone to be over weighted by anything but a gracious welcome, but, of course, it was straight away that I noticed something off about him and his arrival there.

  ‘Of course, he is, why else would all these nit-wits be here in one place?’ he slandered everyone with a turn that had him draw his blade. ‘My apologies, Ladies, Gentlemen… and Governance of this fine night…!’

I was shocked, to say the least of his interruption, so much so that it was with a nod to The Consort, that I stepped forward and placed a hand upon Lucas’ shoulder.

  ‘Lord Cavendish, may I speak to you?’ I spoke with a risen confidence that had him pause and turn to face me.

  ‘Yes… you may,’ he agreed with a lazed look that had him lower the blade for Raymundo to take from him.

Leading Lucas out onto the veranda, I had a waitress bring him his Brandy while standing with a lingering observation to his clothes.

  ‘I wanted to say something, to tell you something that is of great importance… to you, I mean!’ I finally spoke.

His attention was taken from the crowd inside The Great Hall to me, though by the glistening edge of moonlight flickering in his eyes, I knew that he was already aware of my intended words that I was to speak. In turn, this had him look down at the floor shaking his head from side to side, before returning his gaze to me.

  ‘My service has been to the people of my town…’

  ‘To Borello? Or to Evermore, Lucas?’

His clinching of his thoughts to speak was broken for a second, while the words I spoke brought a new path of very careful and select words that had him nod.

  ‘Of course, you are The Writer, the one who places words in my mouth, as well as all the others who are your puppets. Am I correct, or do I lie?’ he spoke calmly, but with the hint of anger showing only in his body language.

It wasn’t a lie, how could it have been a lie, when I had not only written his course of dialogue but also created his essence in looks and appearance. Lucas was from my imagination. And now he was here.

  ‘What do you want, Lucas?’ I asked with no standing on the ceremonious bullshit that would even try to talk him around.

  ‘The same as everyone else, I guess,’ he whispered.

The same as everyone else was not the same as that which he wanted, because what Lucas wanted, was the exact same as that which I sought – only my need was greater. It had to be greater than some Rich Blood Lord who played his way to a position in life that was less noble than my own, less rewarding than my own. He was a mash-up of words and description that was no more than a transfer of thought from a fucked-up mind.

  ‘And what is that, Lucas? What do you want?’ I insisted.

Taking his Brandy from the waitress and drinking it down in one fell gulp, he placed the empty glass atop the veranda sill.

  ‘I want Borello.’ He answered finally.

This I already knew, but it was the one extra need that was more of an interest to me, though I needed to hear it from his own mouth before I could say anything else to him – this one thing I needed.

  ‘Borello,’ I whispered, ‘but Borello has fallen …it fell to Evermore.’

Immediately he became irate at the statement.

  ‘Fallen, you say? But that cannot be, I have just returned from there and it still stands. Are you sure that you’re The Writer?’

Somehow I was doubting my own identity. Everything was immersed in my confusion, while at the same time, the trelifolds of the alcohol were dancing on my senses and nudging my thoughts in many directions, just not those I wished them to be nudged.

  ‘Enjoy the evening, Lord Lucas, we’ll talk again soon.’

Without another word, I bowed respectfully and walked away.

PONR – No Rewind

Athena was resourceful in her methods of staying hidden, as well as under the radar of certain people who would report our whereabouts, especially mine, apparently. Still unsure of who she was, I agreed that she was a great asset to have with me. And, as we both stood in the shadows of the nightclubs alleyway waiting for one of us to speak up and break the awkward silence, I decided to take the first step.

  ‘What exactly is going on here, Athena?’ I asked in an almost detectable demanding voice. ‘I mean, back there in the nightclub. Those people were just fans of my work… maybe taking it a little too far, but they were play-acting, right? Maybe a little twisted Cosplay, even?’ And those Lookalikes…!’

  ‘No. What you saw back at the nightclub was all real, and I fear that if we do not find Sanctuary, you will be found and they will kill you!’ She answered with a heavy heart.

It went without saying, I was concerned for Athena, even if I’d just met her and knew nothing about who she was, where she was from, or if she was orchestrating this whole thing. But as soon as she spoke the word “they”, that was when my mind told me that questions had to be asked and answers had to be given, whether they were uncomfortable, dangerous or even not to be asked in the first place.

  ‘Okay, Athena, I’m sorry, but all that back there, that was far from a night out dancing and drinking – like you promised!’

  ‘You don’t get it, do you?’ she cried, ‘Healan is powerful. His name is larger than his army, his actions more devastating than anything that you or I can survive… he wants you… so he can give you over to them!’

Again, another word that had me worried, only this time it was “them”, but with no clarity on who “they” or “them” were, I had to ask. It was now a dire “need to know”.

  ‘Who? Who are THEY, Athena? And more to the point, who in the hell is Healan?’ I demanded.

Starting to cry into her hands, she turned away embarrassed at the way that I was looking at her. Maybe she saw that I was in a mind not to believe her, or maybe it was that I showed no real emotions toward the state she was in.

  ‘We must reach Sanctuary soon, if we don’t, then all will be lost, for all of us! I know you do not know me enough to trust me, and that all of this is confusing…’

  ‘Confusing!’ I exclaimed kicking a nearby empty wooden crate and smashing it into pieces. ‘You don’t know what confusing is until you have spent an hour inside my mind, Athena, and right now, I’d say that chaos is raining down hard in there tonight!’

  ‘Then you know what is at stake? Help me find Sanctuary and end-all of this, maybe then you can be free of all that blocking your mind, as well as your soul, too. Healan must be stopped before he manages to take full control of … ’

I had no fucking idea what she was babbling on about. One minute she was all upset with running tears, the next she was by my side speaking gibberish like a totally insane woman.

  ‘To be honest, I have no idea what is at stake, and as for the unblocking of my mind and the freeing of my soul, I can highly recommend lots of Brandy… or very strong narcotics with a nice paradicial flavoring. Do you know any drug dealers on this island?’

I must have sounded completely Crackerjack to her, I mean, here I was, an English tourist on foreign soil with a woman I didn’t even know, talking about a revolt by characters from my books – I was The Writer – so, what was stopping me from just erasing the fuckers?

  ‘Like I said, you don’t understand!’ she said turning her back to me, ‘Healan needs you… but the worst thing about all of this, you need him, too, which is pretty messed up all around. If it is drink or drugs that you need to get this thing done, then so be it, but if it is just to return to how you were in your hotel room… then all is lost, do you see now?’

Nope, I didn’t see, and deep down I believe she didn’t either, otherwise I would have got some straight answers, not just a series of cryptic gobbledygook! Athena was either going to help me find out the truth about this Healan, or it would be on the long flight back home that I would turn my back on this whole fucked up nightmare. I was completely happy just to set off to the airport and never see these people again.

  ‘If you leave… you will die!’ She whispered.

  ‘Excuse me? Is that a threat?’ I gasped.

Athena faced me, her eyes wiped of the tears while the stains remained prominent on her cheeks. The cold-looking stare was in no way a rouse or balance of deceit, not this time.

  ‘You have reached the Point of No Return, you are halfway toward the end, but we must… you must find Sanctuary, if you intend to live! I don’t have all the answers for you, I wish that I had, but you must travel this path and make it your own for the days that are coming. Trust me, please?’

Her wayward plead was beginning to sound like a broken, if not familiar record under the needle that needed a gentle push forward so that the truth could continue.

  ‘This Sanctuary, what is it, and where do I find it?’

Suddenly, as if I’d already agreed to this craziness, she perked up with a wide smile and leapt toward me so quick, that I did, for a moment think she was going to jump on me. But she did quite the opposite by pulling up an intact wooden crate from the ground and sat down facing me.

  ‘Sanctuary is where you will find them before they find you. It lies beyond Palermo, far out at sea where the clouds no longer cover the sky and the shallows of an island is feared by all. We must find someone who has already been there…’

I wasn’t liking this at all. ‘Someone… who?’

  ‘In order for you to find Sanctuary, you must take with you The Key! And only by putting aside everything that you have been suffering, can you move toward freeing your soul.’

Again, the cryptic shit was getting a little tiresome. ‘Who?’

Looking up into my eyes, Athena spoke the one name that I was somehow waiting for her to speak: Blaze!

  ‘Now I know all of this is bullshit! That woman at the party, she may look like… she was a Cosplay fan who just happened to resemble her, Athena, but she is not her. The same with Lucas, the others, Michael, Alice, Melissa, Raymundo… all of them are just people who…!’

Athena screamed out loudly, so much so, that for a moment, I actually thought that the police would come running by and pin me to the floor before arresting me. In all, however, she got my full undivided attention.

  ‘Okay! Okay!’ I cried in an attempt to calm her down.

  ‘That woman at the party, the one you claim to be in costume and part of some Cosplay act, she is real. All those people who were there, not one of them are fiction… Healan and his men, they will kill every single one of them, too, if they haven’t done so already, just so they can capture you – The Writer. Danielle La Grande is as real as I am to you right now.’

Admittedly, the woman whose brief company I kept while on the dancefloor was quite real, if not overwhelming to the fact that the detail in her appearance was crucially perfect in every detail; the Leatherall’s, the knives, the hair, eyes, height, in fact, everything about her was real. But what I couldn’t get my head around, was “How?”. How could a character that I’d created and written about become real in my world?

  ‘You must let us help you find Sanctuary, and that way, everything that can be explained will be told to you. You are not going crazy!’

Yeah, right, of course I wasn’t going crazy, because I already had the moment I’d left my hotel room.

  ‘The woman, Blaze… Danielle La Grande, if you can find her for proof, then, and only then, I will agree. Deal?’ I put to her with the motives of proving all of this a sham that was in some way trying to make people believe that I was going insane, but not again, not another chance would I give anyone the bullets to make out that I was suffering a reflective madness.

Athena nodded. ‘Alright, you’re The Writer, so I will find the woman and prove to you that this whole thing is not any such elaborate task of doing anything that does not help you. We have a deal.’

Borello’s Jewel

From where we sat hiding out, Athena guided us through the empty streets of Palermo to the nearest Shipping Port, which happened to be Barrette Bay, one of the locations listed in my work. Being almost hidden by the other, more larger ports of Sicily, Barrette Bay could have almost been thrown our way as a means of escape.

  ‘Seriously!’ I sighed, making my way forward to a nearby hut that was undoubtedly our only means of stealth and cover.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ a loud familiar voice shouted at us both entering the doorway, ‘Why are you here?’

Nudging Athena forward and into the lighting of wall lamps to encourage her to speak for us both, she did with hesitation and fear in her voice as Danielle jumped down from a pile of large Cargo Crates. At first, the observation she sought was to see if either of us had weapons, while her recognizing us from the party confirmed that not only were we unarmed, but we were also harmless – almost.

  ‘We need your help, Lady La Grande, to find Sanctuary!’

Danielle laughed. ‘Stupid child! Sanctuary does not exist, not here, not anywhere in this godforsaken…!’

  ‘The Island! It’s on The Island, thirty-three degrees North-West of here!’ Athena cut in, much to Danielle’s agitation.

Walking out of the shadows, I caught sight of the woman that brought a mass weight to my very soul, and a longing that was burning with a need to call out her name. I felt truly haunted by the sight of her.

  ‘How do you know that?’ Danielle asked dryly.

  ‘Because I do,’ Athena replied, turning to me with a sad look.

Making her way up to the two of us, Danielle was cautious in her approach, glancing around all the while, until finally there she stood right in front of me. She was beautiful.

  ‘Who are you? I mean, who are you really?’ She demanded.

  ‘I am Athena…!’

Raising a quick hand she silenced the woman and diverted her eyes to me. ‘You! Who are you?’

She was referring to me, though she had seen me at the party and addressed me for who I was – her killer!

  ‘I am The Writer, Lady La Grande, the one who…’

  ‘The one who put an end to my tales and the one who dares not speak my name. Tell me, why should I help you with this… this fruitless quest? After all, Sanctuary does not exist. You of all people should know that. It is a story – fable without end to many generations who sought out the lost treasure of the Fae and those of ancient beginnings.’

Whether Athena believed the Sanctuary existed, or Danielle did not, it mattered not to me. What I knew was simple. Here I was in the same place as a character from my imagination and she was looking straight at me while asking questions I didn’t know the answers to.

  ‘Curiosity, as I’m sure you’re curious as to whether it exists!’

My words were taken with a slight grin that had Danielle turn to Athena. ‘And you, how sure are you the Sanctuary exists?’

Athena was confident in her composure, maybe too confident to the point that what she spoke out loud scared even me.

  ‘If I told you, you would not believe me!’ She answered.

  ‘Try me?’ Danielle invited her, ‘How do you know that the place known as Sanctuary exists, Athena?’

  ‘Because I was born there!’

And that was it. That was the answer that we had to go on in taking the decision of boarding a boat to the co-ordinates, where we would find not only a mythical landmark but also The Island, the very island that was a part of some crazy Dreamscape Nightmare I had dreamt of as a child.

  ‘Okay,’ Danielle spoke up, ‘let me explain something to you both. When I …when The Writer murdered me, I found myself upon another plain, one that was away from The Island. I found happiness and no end of harmless Creatic’s that others brought themselves to love and share their lives with. I discovered that hate was far less present than on The Island, and it was good to feel less restrained. On the street corners here, there are these carts that sell dogs with a tangy syrup …’

  ‘Hot Dogs,’ I interrupted her, ‘they’re called Hot Dogs and the syrup isn’t syrup, it is mustard. Will you help us?’

Shaking her head I knew that she needed more convincing.

  ‘There is nothing you or Athena can say to change my mind. I will never return to The Island – ever.’

I was out of ideas and reasons why she should help us in our quest, though to be honest, I was still trying to get my head around Athena claiming to have been born in The Sanctuary, when all this time I was under the assumption she was from this island of Sicily. And then it came to me.

  ‘What if I told you that The Sanctuary holds the answer to your future fate and that of Lucas, too?’

There was a dramatical pause from both Danielle and Athena.

  ‘Bullshit!’ Danielle yelped. ‘The way I see it, you have no power over me or Lucas anymore. I am free …’

Athena stepped forward. ‘Actually, that isn’t true. You see, though there is no more tales told of the great Danielle La Grande and Lucas Cavendish, if we don’t stop Healan from reaching The Sanctuary before us, everything that has been written by The Writer will be erased. If this happens, then I’m afraid you and everyone else who was a part of The Writer’s imagination will cease to exist. Healan needs power and to get that power he needs control …’

  ‘So where does The Writer come into this?’ Danielle asked.

  ‘He is The Writer, of course. Keep up Danielle. If Healan has The Writer, he has the power to …’

  ‘He has the power to rewrite and create his own story. Where there are no vigilantes to face him or challenge him, there will be no boundaries he can’t cross to create a world in his own image.’

Darkness, like the darkness that I wrote about in all my books in the form of The Governance, would take second place to the damage and chaos that this Healan could spread throughout The Island, Resheen, the entire world. And now it was this point of explanation that had Danielle nod.

  ‘I have no idea who this Healan is, but your speech has really made hate that dark fucker. So, yes, I will help you find The Sanctuary, but there it comes with a condition …’

  ‘Yes, Lady La Grande, you can have Borello,’ I cried out believing that I had the perfect guess of her condition.

  ‘No.’ she whisped. ‘When I take you to The Sanctuary, I want something else …I want Valencia. Do we have a deal?’

I didn’t care. To me this was all a surrealistic nightmare that had me running on full automatic mode, just to get myself free from it all – If I could get free from it all?

  ‘Okay then, let’s go, but I want to know all there is about this Healan,’ I said as an acknowledgement of her condition.

  ‘We need a ship first,’ Athena called out.

  ‘You may use mine. Let’s go and find a myth.’ Danielle said making her way to the exit and waving her hand for us to follow behind.  

As hard as I found it to look at her at the Ball, I now found it even harder to look upon Danielle again, here on the boat as we set sail for the co-ordinates that Athena had acquired from a “close contact”, according to her, which were thirty-three degrees North-West of Palermo. Something told me that I was missing something and that something was to do with Athena and her sudden driving of my path. Was she manipulating me, or doing the very same for someone of a third party?

  ‘How long before we reach The Island, Athena?’ I asked.

She didn’t know. ‘We sail by the co-ordinates, that’s all that I know. We could be sailing for a few hours, a few days… it may take a while. Don’t worry, we will find it.’

I wasn’t worried about the journey, just a little concerned as to the food, though I couldn’t remember the last time that I ate, which was strange in itself – I didn’t feel hungry.

  ‘Have you known Athena long, Writer?’ Danielle asked in a half-sarcastic tone that carried the hint she had maybe crossed swords with my new found friend from the hotel at some time in the past.

I wanted to tell her that we had only just made acquaintance at the hotel, but on self-speaking the answer to my inner mind, it sounded worse than the thought of how Danielle would receive it. So, with a deep breath and forced smile, I did the next best thing to try and put her mind at rest – I lied.

  ‘I trust her if that’s what you’re trying to ask me?’

  ‘That is good to know, but to be fair, it was not the question that I asked! The truth of the matter is that The Island is forty-seven miles away from our current latitude, but making it alive through The Sea of Storms, that will show you just how much trust you have for everyone on this ship,’ Danielle revealed to a gasp from several of the ship’s crew who happened to hear.

  ‘Sea of Storms! No, The Sea of Storms does not exist!’ I laughed.

My attempt at dressing down the existence was futile to her. I was being stared at intensely with knowing, with no nervousness or swaying from an otherwise uneducated mindset that knew no better. Danielle knew this was fact, but the logic of my own mind was clouded by the afore travel of my trip to Italy, not of now, where I was confronted by an impossible present, and if I was to be honest with myself, an impossible gauge of the future.

  ‘You’ve been to…’

  ‘The Island? Yes, many times, but I wouldn’t be so quick in an appraisal of the land you seek, Writer. Like I said, we have to survive The Sea of Storms to make sure this journey has not been a loss… I’m sorry!’ She interrupted with a saddened low in her voice, empathy, maybe.

  ‘This ship, will it make do for the journey?’ I asked with the sudden admission that what she said could be true.

  ‘Don’t worry, Writer, I have never lost a single ship to it yet, though there is always a first time, wouldn’t you agree?’

Her words were fucking worrying alone to the fact that this was a journey that had tricked the young Borello woman into returning to a place that she hated, which begged the question: After her losing everything and meeting her fate within the chasms of my imagination, what would stop her from ending all of our lives on the ship by sacrificing even more to The Sea of Storms? After all Lady Daniella La Grande had once been a strong woman who vested much in life, as well as sharing that zeal with others of no association or relation. Now, just looking into her eyes, I could see only a darker longing of end.

  ‘You look tired’

  ‘You look different!’ Danielle replied sharply.

The statement took me by both surprise and offense; surprise because I didn’t expect a reply, and offense because Danielle had not seen me before the ball in Palermo.

  ‘Different how?’ I asked in half demand.

Nodding her head in the direction of the lower cabins, I began to make my way to the door, but for Athena being stopped by a firm outstretched hand stopping her where she stood. Danielle gave a slow, silent shake of her head. ‘Just me and the Writer.’

Turning to me for some kind of acknowledgement, I nodded with a weakened smile, indicating that it was okay.

Leading the way below, I followed Danielle down into the bowls of the ship, my eyes looking forward the whole time, until finally I stopped at a cabin door and turned around to stare straight into her eyes. They looked deep, troubled and yet, at the point of the seeping moonlight lighting up her face, they also looked beautiful, alluring and saddened by something other than loss.

  ‘Athena,’ she spoke, ‘was she your second choice?’

I didn’t know what she meant by the question.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I replied.

  ‘I know. Turn around and open the door.’

Doing as she asked, I entered the cabin to find it empty. Behind me, Danielle entered before closing the door behind her and then turned to face me. It was at that moment that I realized she had unsheathed her sword to hold it tight and direct the end to my chest. Was her intentions to hurt me? To kill me?

  ‘Kill me! You would be doing me a favor!’ I whispered.

Her expression changed, head tilted, eyes widened and the tip of the sword lifted to my throat. The reaction was nothing like the mannerisms that I’d given this woman. This was not how she would have reacted as her character.

  ‘Favor?’

  ‘I’m dying, Danielle, I have been since I started…’

  ‘The Rift, you once said that The Rift was consuming on your health… your Elixium. Is that why you’re searching for Resheen? For The Island, Writer?’

The Elixium that she spoke of was the Life force of a person, or at least it was to those characters that depended on it to live. But to me, there was no magical cure, no rebooting, no chance of a stabilizer that would stop the spread of cancer that was growing inside me like a roaring forest fire.

  ‘The Island doesn’t exist,’ I said dryly.

  ‘You sound so sure,’ she replied lowering her sword.

I was sure in my own mind that it was just a placement in my imagination, some thought out construct that had been worked out by size, population and circumstance. The adding of this one woman who, along with other character’s had formed perfect synchronicity and fluid storytelling. Danielle herself, she was the build of a woman that suited the part, as many of those others in my life – my real life – had found a place in the stories that I wrote. If The Island was real, then it would be coincidental, not because it existed through reality or historical purpose, or entanglement.

  ‘To tell you the truth, I’m not even sure this is all real! You, the ship, Athena…’

  ‘Athena is real,’ she whispered, ‘you’re real.’

Her words were sounding so positive and yet, there was some kind of trailing to the sound, as if she was unsure of something else that she had not yet spoken.

  ‘Do you still want to kill me?’ I put to her.

My words triggered a response. Her eyes looked at the sword as if it had just appeared in her hand, while the look of regret came to fill her eyes, just before she lowered it further and sheathed it again. Danielle turned away from me as if filled with regret, or shame even.

  ‘I waited for you to return. To open The Rift, so that I could be with Lucas again, wherever he was. But you never came back. I spent seven years in Caldon, my days and nights serving those of The Regent who fought against The Governance. Every day I prayed I would find you, to kill you, or find Lucas and maybe give up the urge to end your life for destroying us.’

I had no idea what she was talking about. I had never written a story about Danielle La Grande in Caldon, let alone her joining The Regent to fight against The Governance, so who did?

  ‘Seven years! The Regent… hang on, you said you waited for me. Who do you think I am?’

Danielle laughed out loudly. ‘Is this another one of your tests?’

Slowly shaking my head I walked up behind her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, a move that was met by a reaction quicker than I could ever of imagined possible; a hand grabbed a hold of mine, spinning me round and forcing my knees to the floor. Instantly, before I could do anything else except gasp, my whole body was numbed by some precise strike to my spine. I was paralysed.

  ‘What are you doing?’ I shrieked.

  ‘Bring back The Rift. Bring it back and take me to Lucas.’

Was she being serious right now?

  ‘I’m sorry, there is no Rift, there is no way I can…!’

For one brief second, just a second, I came over funny. My heart was beating so fast, though this could have been because of my sudden incapacity to move. The feeling in my body, apart from the parts that were numb became tingly, vibrant to a point where I could actually feel the wooden beams below me vibrate too. After a few seconds I was able to move again.

  ‘What’s happening?’ I whispered.

  ‘The Rift… It’s opening,’ she replied rushing to the door.

This wasn’t The Rift.

Tearing open the door, she rushed out and up the stairs onto the deck above to be met by Athena, who stared at her with a look that had Danielle shake her head in reply to the silent question.

It was a few moments after this that I appeared from the door.

  ‘What’s going on,’ I shouted.

  ‘It’s The Rift,’ Danielle shouted.

Athena stepped forward. ‘No, it’s not The Rift, it’s The Sea of Storms!’

The Sea of Storm’s was nothing but a dismantling of memories and experience that I had throughout my life, but, to see such a brutal example manifesting before me on the top deck of the ship, that was something that had me wondering what the hell I was doing out here in the middle of the ocean?

  ‘This can’t be real!’ I gasped.

Both Athena and Danielle rushed across the deck to the wheel, while I paused for a moment to comprehend what exactly it was going on. Was this what Athena believed to be something from my imagination or was it something else? Was this something more sinister that the two women were unaware of facing them – facing us?

THE MUSE (Special Edition) will be available this Fall in Paperback Only. Exclusive to HiveQuilibrium, there will be an eBook Edition available after the Paperback Launch.