Chapter Twenty-Nine The Eclipse
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Eclipse
Even when changing from soiled clothes, I still felt filthy.
Surely, I thought, I shouldn’t be able to be affected the way I was. No, I was above weak impulses. I was pure instinct, a ravaging, insatiable hunger, an knowable, complex being—
“Why are there animal corpses here?” I blurted out, distracted from my own thoughts.
“This is a museum.” Lucia’s smile was so wide and smug.
I blinked a few times as my little human eyes adjusted to the interior light.
It was grand, much like the Treasury, except this time more animals than books.
Just past the ticketing counter were impressive rooms. The first one we walked into had giant skeletal remains, the teeth bared just above us.
“Is this another research project?” My shoulder nearly bumping into other visitors as the curious spectators filled the floors like pumping arteries, stopping and going with each exhibit.
“No.” Her fingers intertwined with mine as she led me deeper into the heart of the building.
The next room was warmer. But to my surprise, the bones had fur this time. Frozen like statues for others to gawk at.
“Come here.” She pulled me up to the giant furry creature, tusks protruding over the guests.
“Why are we here?” I snapped. There were a lot of people, too many brushing up against me as they passed. The clumsy things had no spatial awareness. Two small people squeaked as they knocked into the back of my legs, running along the exhibit.
“Altair.” She squeezed my hand.
My breath was shaky, my stomach hollow, and my wits severing fast. When I looked at our hands, her thumb rubbed against mine. The softness tickled, and the small taste of something soothing. She was excited about something, the energy she was giving me like the sun after long stormy months.
“I know you’re hungry,” she said.
“How?” I scoffed.
“Because I know that I, alone, cannot feed you.”
Was she angry with me? Bitter? No, her voice was kind, understanding. Her face was smooth, the muscles relaxed as she looked at the mammoth before us. There wasn’t even sadness in her admission.
She took my hand and placed it on the trunk of the giant mammal.
There was a sudden rush; it could have knocked me to my knees.
I wrenched my eyes shut. I wasn’t sure if the sensation was unpleasant or not.
The air was suddenly cold, racing into my human lungs at a rate that couldn’t allow me to take steady breaths.
The smell of ice and snow, of musty fur and air untouched by industrial waste.
My eyes blinked open reluctantly, then turned slowly to her.
“It is real,” she said, “the skin. It is millions of years old, from deep time”—she placed her hands on it as well, a radiant smile piquing her features—“but you could taste that, couldn’t you?”
While she could only marvel at the beast, I could only see the shining star that was her.
“We can come as often as you like,” she offered. “It should keep you fed. No need to rely on street clams and stale pretzels.”
“Lucia,” I said, my fingers brushing against hers.
She circled the trunk that hung over the pedestal, her eyes flicking to me when I said her name. I thought, faintly, I could see her markings glow, the light in her eyes fluttering through as quick as a sprite.
Like some desperate possession, a pathetic, weak step took over this human form. My hand cupped the back of her neck.
For a moment, she was horrified. There was self-consciousness, the fleeting traces of fear.
Then our lips met.
I had to show her. If she closed her eyes, she could see it.
Expansive grassland, the cool glow of the morning sunrise painting the dry grass. Patches of shade in the graze still held snow. In the far-off distance, snowy colossal glaciers overlooked the natural kingdom.
An echo of a trumpet, footsteps crunching over the chilled landscape.
Then, a small tusked woolly gallivanted across the plane, the larger, slower-stepping parent rushing behind.
The large ears flapped as it finally tucked the small one under its body, shielding the mammoth calf from harsh winds.
We were looking through the eyes of an equally large form.
It got closer; then we could see tusks in front of us as it tipped its head against the other mammal.
I broke the kiss, my appetite full. I couldn’t look any longer.
Only to open my eyes to Lucia, her eyes slow to open, gaze glassy, cheeks flushed.
“Are you well?” I took her face in my hand, leaning back to look at her. Did I step on her? An extra appendage poke her?
Her lip trembled as she wiped her face. “Was that real? Was it . . .” She trailed off and looked at the still beast.
My insides hurt. Not like a stomachache, but a different ache. “I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“Can you show me more?” She looked so eager when she asked. “Can you do that for other things?”
“Yes,” I said, nodding, “with all things.”
With a tug, the scarf loosened from her neck.
“No.” I held my hand up, but she took it.
“Show me,” she said, wrapping the scarf around my palm. “Please.” The plea was breathless.
With an unsteady hand, my fingers curled into a fist around the scarf.
The rush was like an electric current halting the heart. Something twisted and sickening. Like curdled milk or rotting flesh. A longing unfulfilled. The urge to fight, to capture something being teased and then pulled away so violently.
But it wasn’t from the memories.
It was from something inside me.
For touching me so, and only wanting him.
Golden sunset kissed the lavender blooms. The fragrance was loud against the serenity of the field.
She wore white.
Lucia’s hand clasped his as they moved between the bushels of purple blooms. Each time the flowers brushed her skin, a fresh blessing of scented pollen clung to her like perfume.
The man walked in front of her, guiding her excitedly along the field. His suspenders at his hips, a tan trouser with a loose white shirt.
When he looked back at her, a flash of deep blue eyes and a smile just as bright as the last moment before dusk.
His mouth moved, but no words were audible. She couldn’t remember exactly what he’d said, but she knew the skip of her breath when he looked at her.
That was all they did, walked. Hand in hand, heart matching heart, and a timeless moment you could play on loop.
But it was more than that. It was the week before he passed.
It was the last time her heart was light and her lungs breathed easily.
The last time she reveled in the sun on her skin, no matter how briefly among the clouds it came.
She laughed. Like birdsong. A genuine squeak of unrestrained joy as she ran barefoot with him through the lavender.
It was the memory she clung to to forget what he looked like the night of the accident.
This was how she wanted to remember.
The greatest thing the memory left me with was a deep coveting. By some miracle, there was also pain, deep within me. An ache like any muscle, like any strain of the body. It stung like I’d been cut by thousands of thickets until the very seams of my skin had become undone.
“You know,” I spoke suddenly, “your little ritual you found today . . .”
It was like her entire body leaned in, hanging on every word.
“It’s a long-proven method for those with your skills,” I told her, “but your friend was right.”
“Calum?”
“There is context missing.” I tipped my head at her, brushing a stubborn coil away from her face. “You need something with a connection to my world.”
Her face lit like cedar sap and fire. Somehow more color came to her face, her white markings as well as the melanistic skin flustering.
“My Peculiars still refuse.” Her words danced around what I knew she was going to ask—and I was going to agree.
Whether or not she was ready was up to her.