The Crystal Rainbow Ch. 06-10

"He wants me!"

"She wants me!"

As their bodies calmed, the desire began to rise once more and the two sets of lips locked together again. Two sets of arms began to draw the body they held, closer. Two sets of hands began their urgent exploration of the unknown.

And, then a voice intruded into their passion.

"Erik! Christine! Wake up!"

They held each other tighter, but the voice became more and more insistent.

"Wake up! What is wrong? Christine! Erik! Really! Wake up! Do I need to fetch a pail of cold water and throw it on the two of you? What on earth is going on here?"

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Chapter Nine – Awakenings

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Awakening from our dreams
brings us another step closer to realizing them.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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Christine hurriedly sat up from the unladylike slouch in which she found herself when she awoke. Her hands immediately moved to smooth her skirts and then patted at her hair in a vain attempt to bring order to her unruly locks.

Erik, too, sat up quickly. His hands flew up to his face, his shoulders rigid. His entire body relaxed as soon as his fingers touched the stiff surface of his mask. He adjusted its position and sighed. Suddenly, his head tilted down and he hissed. Helen and Christine turned questioning eyes towards him, only to see a twirl of black envelop his form within the folds of his cloak. He seemed to glare at the women, silently daring them to question him. Helen, used to his strange ways, shrugged her shoulders and turned back to Christine. The young woman stared at him for a moment, but he would not meet her eyes. With a slight frown, Christine drew upon the acting skills her father taught her and cleared from her face the signs of hurt Erik's action caused her. Although, inside she seethed over his apparent rejection of her and her cheeks flooded with color.

"Wonderful! He is going to act stupid again! He is a grown man and still acts as a foolish boy! After the way he touched me, how can he act so cold towards me? Does he not remember?"

She paused and licked her lips.

"Perhaps, he remembers, but believes our visits are no more than dreams.

She shook her head almost imperceptibly and repressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"If that is the case, he is the most intelligent fool I shall ever meet!"

As she often did at times when she was upset, Christine unconsciously began to hum. She turned her eyes to stare unseeingly out the window at the passing countryside and without realizing it, her mouth opened and the words of the song slipped past her lips. At first, the sound of her voice was no more than an almost imperceptible impression of song, but quickly grew into a quiet vocalization of joy as the young woman allowed the music to sweep through her being. She reveled in the sweet emotions she felt while in the embrace of the music, but in her secret heart she wished it were the young man's strong arms holding her.

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Erik continued to shift uncomfortably in his seat.

"It is bad enough to fall asleep and have an erotic dream about Christine, but then, when I awake, to find the evidence standing visible for all to see that is quite ... embarrassing ... humiliating ... disgusting .... It is no wonder that she sits there, frowning at me. She must think that I am a depraved beast. Thankfully, she has no idea what caused my arousal. I am certain that if she knew she was the reason for my tumescence, she would not only refuse to continue traveling with Helen and me, but my face would have received a rather resounding slap."

He continued his surreptitious adjustment of his aroused manhood. All the while attempting to keep Christine in his line of sight.

"The last thing I need is for her to think that I am committing some sort of perversion while I look at her. Why does she keep staring at me? I would almost swear that the last glimpse I caught of her, it seemed I saw her eyes leveled at my member. And, now her cheeks are so red that they almost glow. Could it be that she does not find me disgusting?"

He took a deep breath, releasing the tension from his body as he exhaled. With a well-seasoned control taught to him by Helen, Erik cleared all thought from his mind. He replayed every moment he spent in Christine's presence, from his first glimpse of her shadowed form exiting her quarters to the sight of her currently scarlet cheeks and impassive eyes. He searched through the memories, freezing a look, an expression, a touch, but nowhere could he find one that provided him with evidence of her fear or loathing. Indeed, the closer Erik examined his brief acquaintance with Christine, the more confused he became.

"She shows absolutely no signs of fear or loathing towards me. And, not only does she not attempt to avoid my touch, she has gone out of her way to initiate physical contact with me. There is something else ... I feel as if there is something else that I need to remember."

The nagging thought tickled at the corner of the man's awareness, but it remained just beyond his grasp. Just as he began to despair, a sound touched his soul and brought him out of his introspective state.

"My God! She is singing and the song is the same one she sang in my dream. Could it be that the dream is not mine, but ours? After living with Helen all of these years, I have seen stranger things. Oh! If this sharing of dreams could only be true, my heart would soar to the heavens with joy! How can I know? How shall I ascertain the truth of this thought? Dare I ask her? Oh, Lord! I cannot!"

As he remembered the fervent kisses and the burning, passionate caresses they shared, his face grew hot. His body grew hard once more and he trembled. He felt shame at the almost overpowering lust his body felt as he remembered the soft curves of her body and the jutting points of her nipples. Then a thought struck him and left him breathlessly reeling in shock.

"She is the one that kissed me. What does that mean? Does it mean anything or nothing at all? It must mean something. I do not believe that Christine would grant her favors on someone that meant nothing to her. She is not a wanton strumpet. Perhaps, she only allowed herself to kiss me because she thought herself safe in a dream. After all, dreams are not real. Well, not most of the time, anyway."

He almost chuckled.

"I must speak in private with Helen about this. She needs to know that I may share a bond with her niece. Hmmm ... when was the first time I dreamed of Christine?"

His body gave an involuntary jerk as the likelihood of their first meeting being a coincidence vanished and his mind began its awakening to all of the possibilities this memory implied.

"The first time I met Christine in a dream was the first night I spent sleeping under Helen's roof. It either means everything or it means nothing, but I must know. Damn it! I really do need to speak privately with Helen. Hmmm ...."

A myriad of possibilities ran through the man's mind, each one quickly discarded. He tilted his head back to loosen the muscles in his neck and bit back the sigh, which threatened to escape his pursed lips.

"Simple is best, Erik. Anything complex raises questions. Questions might lead to suspicions and that could be disastrous. So, what to do ... what to do ...."

And, then the man smirked.

"Of course!"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Helen sat between Erik and Christine and for the first time in her long life, felt at a loss for words. Her head pounded, but not because of the heady burgundy wine she imbibed. The reason for the pain, which she thought would split open her skull at any moment, were the young couple on either side of her. She had fallen asleep shortly after hearing both of her companions inform her of their intentions to nap. Her sleep had been deep and dreamless, until suddenly she felt as if someone had forcibly taken hold of her and thrust her into a round room. The room felt old with its walls made of rough-hewn stone blocks. The room had no windows, but had several beautiful tapestries adorning the walls. The centerpiece of the otherwise barren room was a large Persian rug. The swirling patterns of the carpet held her eyes and distracted her from noticing that she was not alone in the room, until a man's groan and a woman's sigh drew her attention. Helen gasped as she watched Erik and Christine lying on the rug with their mouths locked in a passionate kiss as their hands ran in feverish exploration over each other's body. The pair took no notice of the old woman, their minds lost in the madness of their newfound desires. Helen staggered and caught herself against the wall as she felt wave after wave of burning passion flow from them. It seemed to Helen that within their bodies burned an internal fire of desperate need. As they lie upon the floor, they writhed, thrust and stroked one another in a frantic attempt to discover the means to quench the flames threatening to consume their souls.

Helen placed a hand to her chest and the crease in her brow deepened further as the pain tore into her body. Her knees buckled and her chin fell to rest upon her chest as she began to construct the spell, which would delay the now certain death that awaited her. She murmured words of the ancient tongue and then fell silent. With a look of steely determination in her eyes, the old woman lifted her head upwards and raised her arms above her head. Her words thundered forth from closed lips, as she reverted to her native French.

"I swore upon the honor of my lineage. Upon the nobility of my mother's line and her mother's and hers and on and on back into the dark recesses of time that I invoke this rite only for the sake of she-who-follows. For myself, I ask nothing. I ask for more time because she is not ready. Please grant me more time, so that I may teach her all that she needs to know."

And then, just as suddenly as the pain began, it was no more. Helen breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly.

"Thank you, my God. I shall make the most of the time left to me. Thank you, Lord!"

The old woman glanced at Erik and Christine and shook her head.

"This needs to stop right now. Well, it needs to stop at least until I can speak to each of them separately. There is more here than one night's acquaintance, of that I am certain."

Wrenching herself out of the dream, Helen hopped to her feet. She turned, cleared her throat and loudly proclaimed.

"Erik! Christine! Wake up!"

The sexual tension that Helen sensed between the two continued unabated, so she tried again and placed greater force into her voice.

"Wake up! What is wrong? Christine! Erik! Really! Wake up! Do I need to fetch a pail of cold water and throw it on the two of you? What on earth is going on here?"

◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊

Helen allowed herself a minute sigh of relief as she felt her lips curl into a small smile. The emotions she sensed from the two on either side of her were so typical of their widely divergent personalities that she could not help feeling somewhat amused. Her amusement, however, lay thickly entwined with her sense of irony. Erik felt self-loathing and Christine felt anger.

"She lashes out and he whips himself."

A voice speaking quietly into her left ear caused her to start before she realized the source. She arched her eyebrow and narrowed her eyes as she turned to look at Erik. The young man had one foot upon the floor and the other resting upon the seat. He leaned his elbow on his thigh and rested his chin on his hand. He wore a smirk that bordered on the edge of being a grin.

"Madame, might I have a word with you?"

Helen bit her lip and gave Christine a sidelong glance, but the girl seemed lost in her own thoughts, completely unaware of her companions. The old woman returned her attention to Erik. She responded to Erik's inquiry by throwing her voice in the same manner that he had.

"Yes, Erik. I agree. We need to talk. More importantly, I must know what is happening between you and my niece. The emotions between the two of you were so strong that it dragged me into your dream. Really, Erik! You should be ashamed of yourself! How could you be so bold? You only met Christine last night, yet today you kiss her with such passion that had I not interfered, you would have made love to her. What is happening between the two of you? I do not ask this out of idle curiosity. Surely, you must understand my concerns. You must be forthcoming in your response, Erik. Please! The future of my line's heritage rests upon that young woman's shoulders. You must tell me, Erik. You must tell me everything!"

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Chapter Ten – Reality

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The concept of reality is but a philosopher's supposition.
The true nature of reality exists only in the arms of a lover.

"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"

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The man's eyes narrowed in annoyance and sparks blazed in their amber depths. Taking a deep breath, he carefully considered his words before he responded to the woman he loved as a mother. Releasing the breath, he cast his voice allowing it to land quietly just next to the old woman's right ear.

"Helen, I realize that you have many unusual responsibilities and understand your point of view can oft times be called unique. However, I fail to see how the subject matter of my dream is any of your concern. I am not like you. I cannot control the course of my dreams. While I do understand that the actions I partook in my sleep were inappropriate, is it better to release my desire for Christine in my dreams or keep them bottled deep inside me. Madame, it was only a dream. What upsets you about this? And, should I not feel outraged that you violated the sanctity of my mind? You actually entered my dream, unlike Christine. The young woman sitting beside you now was not the being you witnessed in my dream. She was just a wish of mine that was about to come true ...."

The old woman shifted impatiently on the cushioned seat.

"Do you truly believe that? In the course of my duties, I have looked into the dreams of others, as you are well aware and in all my years as the Keeper, never before have I witnessed such a detailed dream manifestation. Erik, you have dreams of people other than Christine, do you not?"

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth and his forehead creased, unseating his mask slightly. He grimaced and quickly pressed the mask back into its proper place.

"You are well aware of the details of some of my dreams, Helen. You also, know how unpleasant they are. Why do you ask?"

She sighed and turned her sorrowful eyes to the floor.

"I do have a reason to ask you such a thing. Think about your dreams, boy. How do your other dreams compare to this one? Do the people in your other dreams seem as real as Christine did in this one?"

"There are only two people, which do not scream or turn away from me in horror or disgust when they gaze upon my unmasked visage, one is you, Madame and the other is Christine. And, you are the only one to look upon me as a normal human in either wakefulness or in sleep. The Christine of my dreams knows me no other way than unmasked and simply accepts me as I am. So, to answer your question, no, no one else that populates my dreams seems as real to me as Christine does ... not even you, Helen. Christine ... well, she is, well, she is different because she is the perfect creation of my dreams. I wish she were real, but ...."

His words ended in an awkward silence. Helen raised her eyes to meet Erik's and he lifted his shoulders in a small shrug. She grimaced and her voice once again wafted through the air to whisper quietly into Erik's ear.

"Oh! Erik, I am sorry! We have been together all these years and I should have known you better than to jump to unjust conclusions. I can only blame my hurtful words on the shock of seeing the two of you thusly engaged. I apologize for my poor reaction and hurtful accusations. I feel dreadful. Especially, now that I find it necessary to tell you something important and I am unsure how you will react to what I have to tell you. If you were not sitting, I would have to caution you to take a seat. However, since you are sitting, I must ask that you not leap from your seat and rush from this compartment when I tell you what you need to know. Can you remain here and be calm? I need to know before I can proceed. You must give me your word, Erik."

She paused and waited for his answer. Helen watched as Erik's eyes bore deeply into her own and then flicked almost wistfully over Christine's still form. His eyes swept back to meet those of the old woman and he dipped his head, granting Helen permission to proceed.

"Madame, I give you my word that I will not react in any way as to cause untoward attention to either of us. I do not wish to drive Christine away by frightening her. I understand her importance and will do nothing to jeopardize your relationship with her. Does that suffice?"

The underlying sadness did not leave the old woman's eyes, but the deep creases of her forehead lifted slightly, as did the corners of her mouth.

"Yes, Erik. I know I can trust you to hold to your word."

She quietly cleared her throat and allowed her eyes to move stealthily over the young woman next to her. Christine sat with her head turned to look out the window of the train, but Helen felt that the girl's mind was not seeing the passing countryside and that her thoughts were far away.

"Well, it seems that she already knows the truth of the matter. This complicates things further. I am confused. Christine is not a wanton creature. How is it that she allowed Erik to touch her in such a manner after such a short acquaintance? There is something more to this than meets the eye."

"Very well, Erik. First, I need to know something. Is this the first time you have dreamed of Christine?"

Helen felt her breath catch in her throat as she watched Erik's reaction. The smallest of squeaks issued from his mouth before he blinked and regained control. His voice resumed smoothly in her ear.

"No, it is not. The night she made her debut was a night of firsts for me. The first night I spent in your house and the first time someone held me was the first time I met an angel in my dreams. I met a small girl with the voice of an angel and the temper of a wild cat. We argued and I believe we flung the word, 'stupid' at one another. She appeared in my dreams quite frequently during the first year or two I lived with you. Then, suddenly, I dreamt of her no more. Seeing her walk into Monsieur le Comte de Mornay's kitchen was quite unnerving, but I thought I hid it well enough. Believe me, Helen, I am as surprised as you are by the happenings in the dream you interrupted. How could someone I never met appear in my dreams? The fact she exists as a real person is unreal enough, but then to discover she is your niece, well, that pushes things into the area of the surreal. You would think after everything I have seen during my time with you, I would be prepared for anything, but it is quite different watching something of this nature happen to others than experiencing it yourself ...."

He shook his head, his eyes lingering for a moment on Christine before tearing them away.

"Helen, I have never asked anything of you, but now I have no choice. What is happening?"

She met his eyes and calmly explained.

"Erik, you and Christine were not dreaming. Well, in the conventional sense, you were dreaming. Both of you were asleep. Both of you dreamed, but ... instead of dreaming alone, the two of you shared your dream. I have never heard of this happening. In fact, if I had not witnessed it, I would have thought it impossible. Yet, the two of you met once upon a dream. And, while both of you slept, you interacted just as certainly as if you had met while walking down a path. If you were to ask Christine about any of the dreams, she will remember everything that happened in them. Just as you, remember them, Erik. Of course, the memories are from her perspective, so they will differ from your memories, Erik. But, is that not the way of things in life? The eternal triangle of sides ... your side, the other's side and the truth. Perhaps, you now understand my shock when something pulled me into your latest dream. I knew you and Christine were real and not dream images. I did not know that you were unaware."