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Helen's words faded away into a strange vacuum of silence, which enveloped the room. The fire continued to flicker and dance, but the flames seemed to make no sound. The pair had been quietly watching the old woman's back, but found all too soon that they could not resist the physical pull of the other's presence in the room. Slowly their gaze ran from Helen, down along the floor and up the object of their desire's body. With crimson cheeks blazing, they quickly skimmed upwards, quickly skipping over the tempting parts until their eyes locked. Christine's mouth gaped slightly and her lips moved soundlessly.
"I want you more than anything I have ever thought to want. I could not bear it if I hurt you. Do you think what she says is true?"
Erik bit his lower lip, but did not break their stare with the slightest of blinks.
"If I can be certain of anything in this world besides you, I am sure of Helen. She does not tell lies. She sometimes avoids speaking the truth, but if she says the words, I have no doubt of their veracity. She believes everything she has said to us is true."
Christine nodded almost imperceptibly.
"Yes, I feel that she speaks the truth, too. So, my love, what do we do now?"
The young man's eyes flashed. His sagging shoulders straightened and a smile spread across his entire face.
"You called me, my love and told me you loved me when we were in your bed chamber. Do you truly mean it, Christine?"
Christine gave a small unladylike snort and a toothy grin stretched her delicate features.
"Speaking only the truth must be a family trait, Erik. I would not have said it if I did not mean it. Now, I repeat. What do we do now?"
The old woman's melodious voice interrupted the two young people's silent conversation.
"Is it not obvious? I must begin Christine's training as soon as possible. For the sooner she can control her power, the sooner I can leave the two of you to your own devices … so to speak."
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¹ "Putting Nebuchadnezzar out to grass" – 19th Century slang for sexual intercourse.
² "Bits of muslin" – 19th Century slang for women of easy virtue.
³ "Je t'aime" – Translation: I love you
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Chapter Eighteen – Lessons
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Lessons of love forever kept
Close to the heart, dear to the breast.
"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"
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"No! No! No! You must relax! Clear your mind and feel the tranquility of peace wash over you. You cannot force yourself to feel peaceful! There is a diametric opposition in the concepts of force and peace. Would you not agree with me on this principle? Good! Well, then have you not heard a single word I have said? You are attempting to force a meditative state, which is not possible. Trust me! Now, try again. Close your eyes. Relax. Listen to the sound of your breathing. In and out. In and out. Clear your mind of all thoughts and listen only to the sound of my voice and your breath. In and out. In and out. You feel the slow, steady beating of your heart, which calms you further. You feel yourself relax as you release the tension in your body. Your body seems to float on a cushion of air and you find yourself thinking back and examining the happy times in your life. Only the happy times … you search through your memories and find a time when you felt totally happy. A time so perfect that you felt completely at peace. Can you remember a moment in your life where you felt everything was perfect? Can you, Christine?"
The old woman's eyes lit up with silent anticipation as she watched Christine's limp form. She continued speaking her soft platitudes, encouraging the girl's deepening trance. A hiccough burst Helen's moment of triumph and sent the young woman into a fit of nervous giggles.
"Go! Get a drink of water and return when your hiccoughs are gone."
Helen pressed her fingers tightly across her forehead and rubbed vigorously as she fought against the pain in her head caused by her growing frustration with the girl. As Christine remained in frowning silence, the old woman suppressed a groan.
"Really! You cannot enter a trance with hiccoughs, Christine. Go!"
"Damn it! This is an exercise in pointless frustration for the both of us! I am not a teacher, Diamanté! I cannot even help the girl find her focus and I already feel my temper rising. Fuck! I have no patience for this! What am I doing wrong?"
Her wrist felt suddenly awash in a burst of warmth and the ruby slowly began to glow.
"Both of you try too hard, but for the wrong reasons. The girl concentrates, but her desire for the man distracts her from absorbing the meaning of your words. And, you … you allow the perceived perfection of your mother's lessons with your twin to intimidate you and frustrate you with what you perceive as your apparent failure. Believe me, crone, the lessons your mother taught your sister never came easily to either one of them and in the end, your sister rejected all she had been taught. She left and turned her back on her legacy, did she not? So, was your mother the perfect teacher if her student forsook her lessons and renounced her claim to the bracelet? Well?"
The voice, which filled her head, spoke in an unusually mild tone. Helen did not answer as she felt the question to be rhetorical. Her suspicions were confirmed when Diamanté continued.
"We both know that your sister was weak. She never had the strength of will to draw confidently on my power, no matter how we tried to help her. It simply was not in her nature. Christine, on the other hand, is strong-willed. You must find the proper tools to teach her. She has an enormous fount of self-discipline bubbling deep within her. You must draw it to the surface and use it. Christine loved her father deeply, but his death left her feeling betrayed. She locked away her ability to love when he died, seeing it as a weakness and that is the reason her shared dreams with Erik ceased. She turned away from love and placed all of her passion into one outlet. Do you know what it is? I do and I believe that if he thought about it, Erik could tell you as well. It is her music. Her music is the key to her learning control and while you have a beautiful voice, you obviously do not have the gift of teaching. However, you do know someone who is a gifted teacher and makes music so sweet as to make the angels weep. Do you not, Helen?"
The old woman froze with the realization of just whom Diamanté meant.
"But, knowing how the two of them feel about one another and then placing them in such close proximity on a daily basis could lead even the most saintly of men into temptation. I do not know if I can allow you to place him into a situation, which could result in his death. While he is an exceptional human being, he is still just a man. And, in some ways, he is more a man than most men I have met, but still, he loves her and …."
"She must learn to make her song take flight and then guide it carefully back to earth. He can teach her how to control her voice and with that knowledge, she shall hold the key to her power. Can you deny her that chance? I think not! I believe that we shall obtain the best results if the girl and her mate do not know about this conversation. You shall continue to instruct her in the histories, rituals and incantations. I shall arrange the circumstance to arise that will inspire the offer of vocal lessons. Yes, I have always known that he holds a place of importance in the legacy. I just never understood his use until now. With his gift of music, the girl shall take command of her power and you will find your rest, old one."
The old woman started from her trance as she sensed the concern in the hand placed on her arm.
"Madame? Are you well? I am sorry. I do not mean to aggravate you. I will try harder, I promise!"
Helen blinked to clear the fog from her eyes and allowed a small smile to turn up the corners of her mouth.
"Oh, my dear girl, do not worry. I am well, just a slight headache. You do not aggravate me. No. No. I am frustrated with my own lack of ability. I am a poor teacher and I promise that I shall try harder, but, for now, I believe you need some fresh air. You should find Erik and ask him to accompany you on a walk. It is a lovely day and a few hours outdoors will do the both of you a world of good. I shall brew a pot of chamomile tea with some mint and birch bark then have a quiet cup by the fireside. That should relieve my aching head before it is time for us to prepare supper. Now, off with you!"
◊ ○ ◊ ○ ◊
"It is such a shame that I could not find Erik. Helen was right, it is a lovely day and I would so love to have gone for a walk in the forest, but without him I do not think that is wise."
The young woman sighed wistfully and then, as she spied a bench next to a quaint stone well, she skipped to it and sat daintily upon it. She bent down and plucked a wild daisy.
"To think that some people consider this flower a weed! Well, Mademoiselle Daisy, you and I have much in common. We are both considered weeds, but in truth, we are diamonds in the rough!"
She laughed gaily as she tucked the flower behind her ear then bent to pluck another blossom.
"I do believe I shall inquire of the daisy to tell me whether Erik's love for me is true. Will you do me this great favor, Mademoiselle? I can think of no greater cause to which you could sacrifice your petals …."
With a gentle smile, she carefully plucked a petal from the daisy and began to sing.
"He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
My heart alone cannot divine
the truth of my longing mind.
Her eyes glowed with hope and happiness as she cast the petal into the air where a sudden gust of wind caught it. She watched as it swirled and whirled on the current of air, soon drifting from her sight. She sighed and tugged another petal from the daisy. Then casting it upon the wind, she continued her song.
He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
Forever shall I wonder
Oh! Petals tell me true.
She freed another petal from the flower. Christine stood, closed her eyes and began to sway in time to the rhythm of her song.
He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
I only know that when he's near
my thoughts become clear.
She cast another petal onto the wind and her swaying became gliding steps of dance, her voice rising as her song became more certain.
He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
The restless fluttering of my heart
cannot find peace when we're apart.
With her head thrown back and her arms outstretched, Christine whirled about in a joyous imitation of the petals fluttering about her on the wind. Her song rising to a crescendo.
He loves me ….
He loves me not ….
Please tell me what I need to know ….
Can you speak for me?
Oh, petals tell him true ….
Just say to him, I love you.¹"
A tinkling peal of laughter escaped her lips and a blush swept from her cheeks, down her neck and ended at the soft rise of her heaving breasts. She sought to slow her breath, then glancing at the ravaged blossom in her hand; she waltzed to the well and cast it into its depths.
"I do not suppose I really need to ask a daisy how Erik feels. I know he truly loves me." She murmured.
Suddenly, a vibrant male voice spoke softly near her ear.
"And, my dear, you are quite correct. I do love you."
Startled by the unexpected company, she almost lost her footing and had to fling out her hands to catch herself on the rim of the well. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes with embarrassment over her clumsiness, she steadied herself for a moment to gather her wits about her. She swiftly spun about, giggling madly. Her delighted smile turned into a frown as she saw no one behind her.
"Where are you?" She called uncertainly. "Erik, come out! I do not find this amusing in the slightest!"
She stomped her foot on the ground and glared as drops of mud spattered her worn shoe and the hem of her gown.
"Oh, shit! Look what you made me do! Damn it! Erik? Erik!"
Her indignant words cut off and became a shriek as a pair of strong arms swept her up into their embrace. She twisted in his grip and her tiny fists beat upon the warm, hard surface of masculine chest covered only by a thin muslin shirt against which she suddenly found herself tightly pressed.
"Monsieur Erik de Seul! You must put me down at once or … or … or, oh! Erik, put me down now! I swear! Honestly, whenever you are near me, I cannot string together a coherent thought and being in your arms … well, I am very near surrender, my love. Do not say that I did not give you fair warning." Her eyes grew grave. "Really, Erik, you need to put me down right now, please?"
"Very well." He sighed. "You know that I can deny you nothing."
They both sighed as he gently stood her back down upon her own feet. He stood for a moment, his body pressed against hers just long enough to make sure that she had her balance before he backed away from her and she once again took up her seat on the bench next to the well.
"My apologies, ma chéri. I could not help myself. I went out for a walk in the woods and suddenly, I heard the voice of an angel singing. The next thing I knew I was here and discovered that what I once thought an angel was in truth, you. I know that you said you intended to go to the Opera Populaire and audition for a position with the chorus, but … my God! What a waste of a precious instrument if you were to do that. Right now, your voice is so sweet and pure you could audition for secondary leads and with a little training, you could become the lead soprano."
She looked into his earnest eyes and all doubt fled her mind.
"A little training?" She stammered.
A broad smile graced his lips and he bowed.
"Mademoiselle Wolner! I would like to offer myself to you …." He paused, allowing his eyes to run up and down suggestively over her body, before he grinned and met her eyes once more. "I would like to offer myself to you as your maestro. Please, allow me the pleasure of molding your voice into the perfect instrument I know it is capable of becoming. Please, Christine?"
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¹ "A Maiden's Lament" – Excerpt from "A Fool's Book of Wisdom"
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Chapter Nineteen – Coincidence
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We believe that life is a series of interesting events we name coincidence.
There are no coincidences. Life follows the path of our heart's own desire.
"A Fool's Book of Wisdom"
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Helen sighed and pulled her bare feet onto the settee. She carefully tucked the afghan about her body and then turned to take up her cup of tea. With brooding eyes, she stared into the flames as she thought of the wasted years of her life.
"All of this loneliness because of one mistake … just because I gave in and allowed my temper free reign during the worst moment of my life. Sometimes, I wonder why me, but that is a pointless thought to pursue. And, then there are the 'what if I had …' thoughts. Oh, Khalid! When I think of the life that could have been, I feel so much despair, but this changeling's body could never tempt you. If you could only see past this horrible façade and see the true Helen that lies beneath it …. Aw, hell! The only person that ever could was Erik and he accomplished that only with the help of the bracelet. Ha! The bracelet helped the boy to see the true me and it was the bracelet which caused me to look this way in the first place." She paused to blow upon the steaming surface of her cup of tea then tentatively took a small sip. She grimaced slightly at the bitter taste. "Ugh! As with all medicines, I guess I must accept the bitter in order to receive the sweet relief from the pain." She took another sip. "Diamanté! Please take pity upon me and allow me a brief freedom from this walking prison. There is no one to see. Please? I wish to continue our conversation and hope that you would explain something to me."
The familiar heat emanated from the bracelet around her wrist and the brightness of the firelight seemed to dim before the radiance of the ruby's glowing surface.
"Very well, Helen. I shall take a chance and hope no one notices your transformation. I shall free you just long enough for the two of us to partake in the completion of our earlier conversation, but then you must return to your fleshy confinement. You must remember that I did not devise your punishment. I am simply the executioner of the writ or, perhaps, more accurately, the jailer whom holds the key to your cell. Arise from your prison of flesh! Stand and walk free, Mademoiselle Hélène Manon de Blanc!"
Quiet thunder rumbled far off in the distance and suddenly, a tall, lithe form leapt from the settee. The young woman twirled as her bell-like laughter tinkled throughout the room. After a moment, her hands ran up and down her slender, yet curvaceous form. She hugged herself tightly and sank to the floor where she quietly began to contemplate the fire. The flame light danced deep in the reflections of her deep sapphire-hued orbs, her flawless alabaster skin and curly, raven-black hair meshing seamlessly into the absolute whole of a stunning woman. She sighed and drew her long, coltish legs up to rest her chin on them.
"Thank you, Diamanté. It has been such a long time since you last allowed me to walk free. Thank you so very much! It is an amazing thing to be without pain. Thank you!" She murmured.
"I am not the beast you think me. It truly pains me that I must continue to punish you. Although, I am of two minds over how I feel about the thing you did because of the thing done to you. Yet, I am not the one that decided your fate and I must answer to powers higher than I am. You forget something about me or, perhaps, you never knew this about me. Once, I was a human woman and I am where I am now … here in this stone … as part of a punishment. While, I did not commit murder, I did something for which I could not find absolution. I disobeyed and betrayed my king. I rejected his attentions. I not only refused my king, but I had the audacity to love another. From the moment of my birth, my fate was to become consort to the king. My every whim instantly satisfied, my ego unbelievably coddled. I lived a life of privilege and thought that the king would indulge my every wish. At a young age, the king's wizard determined that my soul contained powerful magicks and he must train me so that I could control them and become a great power to the king. Unfortunately, despite the great difference in our age, my teacher and I fell in love. I first shared my body with the wizard and it was to him that I gave my heart. The king, when he learned of our betrayal, killed my lover by having him drawn and quartered before my very eyes. He then offered me a second chance. If I would willingly come to his bed and deny my love, he would forgive me. I could not. No, that is not true. I would not! In his rage, the king summoned his sorceress. She bound me in chains, which prevented me from summoning my powers. I was alone and I was powerless. The king could not bear the thought of destroying me completely as the power I possess would die with me, so he commanded that the sorceress destroy my body and imbue my power within a talisman. And, that is how I came to reside within the ruby contained in your bracelet. Obviously, this is not my story in its entirety, but it is enough for you to know that I understand what it is to be imprisoned. We are not so different, you and I."
