19 - Ryet
With permission.
Syrsee and Ienter the dreamwalk together. It’s different now. Not purple, but purple and gold. I don’t know what the gold means. Eventually, once I’ve got a better grip on things, I’ll ask Paul about it. But right now, all I want is to get this over with.
There is no way to change what Syrsee is. I told her the truth, I didn’t lie. But I can’t tell her the whole truth right now. Not yet. Not until we get through this first stage and I’ve got her in a better place.
She hates me. And I don’t even blame her. In fact, I kinda feel the same way about her.
I mean, if we’d never met, I’d have died a scion. If she hadn’t fed me, I’d be dead now. And she’d be… the other half, left behind. Better off.
And this is pretty much where we’re at. I’d rather be dead and Syrsee would be better off without me. Just like Jane. But Jane is both deadandbetter off without me, so… kinda different.
We’re in that winter clearing again. The one Paul’s been showing up in since my whole metamorphosis started happening. He’s holding that baby and he’s wearing those furs. Like he’s some kind of Viking.
It was weird at first, but now… I dunno. It kinda suits him. He looks like a Viking. Well, he’s too pretty to be a Viking, so… whatever. Doesn’t matter.
I’m holding Syrsee’s hand and when I look over at her she’s wearing a long, flowing white gown. Not like a ball gown. More like a nightgown. But very pretty and over-the-top for something you’d just be sleeping in.
In fact, she looks like some kind of princess. And she doesn’t look sick at all. Her complexion is glowing. Nice, tanned skin and rosy cheeks. Like she just fed.
Which she did. But in real life, it didn’t help her much. Not in the looks department. In real life she looks like a witch on her deathbed.
When I look down at myself, I’m still me. Black-blue body that comes across as a bruise. Like someone beat the shit out of me from head to toe. And my wings are here, heavy and drooping because I don’t think my back muscles are strong enough to actually hold them up. Flying anywhere with these things feels very out of the question.
“Hello, Syrsee. Don’t you look lovely tonight.” Paul, who normally comes across as a charming asshole, is somber and his tone is a little bit angry. It’s been that way since he got stuck here, I realize. I just hadn’t noticed because he was talking to me. But now that he’s talking to Syrsee in this same tone, it makes me bristle and I take offense.
Syrsee doesn’t say anything. She hates him, I’m certain of that. But she’s not blaming him for this. She’s blaming me. I’m the new bad guy in her mind. So she can afford to disregard Paul and his moods right now.
Paul directs his gaze to me. He smiles, kinda holding the baby up. “You were such a beautiful boy.”
I make a face. “That baby isme?”
“Who else, Ryet? You’re…” He shakes his head a little like he’s searching for words. “You’re my everything.”
Syrsee scoffs.
I roll my eyes.
Paul stands up. “Should we get things started?” Neither of us answer him. He directs his gaze to Syrsee. “Has everything been explained to your satisfaction?”
I expect a pretty big protest from her. I mean, it took almost two hours of nursing her, feeding her, explaining things to her before she finally gave in and listened. But she doesn’t protest. She asks a question.
“I don’t understand why we’re in the dreamwalk. I’m supposed to set you free?” She waves a hand through the purple-gold mist. “This isn’t real.”
Paul snaps his fingers. “How about this? Better?” We’re not in the forest any more, the baby is gone, and we’re all naked and standing in a luxury hotel room. “Real enough for you?”
Syrsee isn’t satisfied. “It’s just another illusion.” Then she looks at me. Looks me up and down, actually.
Which makes me look down at myself. I’m a man again. No bruised body, no wings. Just a male human in his prime looking very much the same way I did when Paul killed my family to try to save their souls.
“It’s not an illusion.” Paul is speaking again, so I look up at him. “It’s reality, Syrsee. You know this. The dreamwalk wasnever an illusion.” He comes towards us and I grip her hand tighter.
But she doesn’t recoil or shrink back from him as he approaches. In fact, she straightens when he’s so close to us that she has to tilt her head and look up to keep meeting his gaze.
He places a hand on her face, his palm flat against her cheek. She doesn’t even flinch. “It was real when we were together. This is the same. Josep will be here, so it’s a little different. But he’s very pretty, Syrsee. You’ll like him, you’ll see. It’s going to be OK.” Then Paul looks at me. “Ryet loves you. Don’t you, Ryet?”
I have an urge to disagree with him just because that’s what I do. But it’s a pointless urge because I don’t disagree with him. “I do.” I look at Syrsee, though she’s not looking at me. She’s still fixated on Paul. “You probably don’t believe me, but I’m doing this for you.”
