Chapter Six

I heard a gasp and felt the shift in emotions from the group. Fred was somewhere between confused, shocked, and relieved. Scott was just confused and shocked. Leanna was disbelieving. And Jonathan was fit to be tied. I could feel his need to protest this even before he spoke.

"Celia, you can't!" He whispered in my ear urgently, squatting beside me.

Both Varien's eyes and mine turned to him, and he froze as if he really did not want to have to fight with us. I stood slowly and moved away a few steps, drawing him with me. "I have to, Jonathan." I whispered, resting a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"But . . ." He hesitated. I could sense a battle of an entirely different kind being waged within him. "That gives him what he wants." He finally protested. There was more; I could feel it. But I did not press. Would it really matter in the long run anyway?

I sighed. "I know. But it is the only thing I can do. It is the only way to save Varien." I countered. I felt trapped.

"There has to be another way." He protested.

I sighed again and shook my head. "There isn't. I've been over it and over it. This is the only way. Please, Jonathan, I . . ." I wanted to say so much. But it stuck there, jammed itself in my throat and refused to budge. I swallowed. "I will always remember you." I finally managed, pulling him into a tight embrace that lasted only a moment. Then I moved off, before he could stop me again, and stood before Varien who was now standing once more.

"I give you now access to my Form." I said in a sort of official-sounding voice. I saw Varien's lips curve into a cruel smile, then I felt the rush of a powerful mind flowing into mine savagely...

We stood on a scorched plain. We were all that stood here. He looked at me and sneered. "You were too easy, Reject."

For the second time, he had called me Reject. I frowned and crossed my arms. "Why do you keep calling me that, Strrae'hel?" I asked, finally dredging up the courage to face that question and its answer.

He did not answer immediately. After a moment of studying me, he looked genuinely shocked. "You truly don't know . . . do you?" He asked.

"If I knew, I'd not have to ask the likes of you, would I?" I shot back hotly.

He laughed. "They tossed you out, Celia." He taunted. "My people only ignored my accomplishments. Yours exiled you for yours."

My eyes narrowed. "You lie."

"Do I?" He challenged. "Ask them. Ask the great and powerful Continuum."

"I can't. You know that."

He laughed again. "Oh, yes, that's right. You're stuck here with the rest of us Mortals." He jeered.

"My power will not free you, Strrae'hel."

"Oh, but it will. As soon as I have dealt with you, I shall command that vast power. And then, I shall rule the Dimensions!"

"Then you didn't hear?" Now it was my turn to taunt him. I mimicked his pose of arms crossed over chest.

"Hear what?" He frowned, his demeanor changing somewhat, becoming slightly less certain.

"That this place diminishes me." I answered. "I am not even certain that I can get out."

There was a moment of silence between us. Then he roared out his anger and frustration.

Most Mortals perceive Time as a linear thing, but it is not. Time is a River. It flows in a general direction, yes, but there are eddies and whirlpools and other places where the 'laws of time' do not apply just as there are places in a river that do not obey the 'go that way' command of the general river. In short, Time is in a constant state of flux and flows in whatever direction it is commanded to flow. And like that river, it has slow spots and rapids. A mindscape is one of those places where Time's flow changes based on the perceptions of the minds involved. In this case, it seemed to slow to an absolute crawl.

We traded power blows for a seeming eternity before I sensed a weakness in my opponent's defenses. He was tiring, and that was a good thing since I was as well. Fortunately for me, he was tiring faster.

Taking advantage of that weakness, I pounded him with blow after blow. I gave him no time to rest, no time to recharge, no time to retaliate. "Now you leave us, Strrae'hel!" I cried out as I delivered a final, powerful blow that resulted in a flash of purest white . . .

"We shouldn't have let her, Leanna!" I heard Jonathan protesting in a tone that I could only have described as haunted.

"We had no choice, Jonathan." Leanna counseled gently, one hand resting on a leather-clad shoulder. There was compassion in her eyes and in her voice.

He did not speak at first. "I know." He finally said in a tone so soft I almost did not hear it. "But I . . . I wish there had been another way."

"So do I." Leanna commiserated.

I had not moved yet. I was gathering my wits and my strength. I could feel my body now, but it was heavy and nearly unresponsive. Such mental battles always have some form of repercussions on the body; but it was hard to tell what those would be on mine until the initial malaise wore off. Until then; therefore, I had to simply lie where they had laid me and listen, eyes closed.

S'Lel, it seemed, sensed my state of awareness; however. He padded over and nuzzled my cheek, purring softly in my ear. A slow smile crept across my lips, but I could not coax more out of my body just then. He seemed to understand.

"S'Lel, leave-" Leanna started to chastise the cat, but stopped mid-scold as she saw the smile. Gently, she nudged Jonathan to turn.

He did. "Is she . . .?" He could not bring himself to finish the question.

He did not have to. "She has won." Leanna said softly. "S'Lel would know."

Jonathan smiled fully then and moved to squat beside me. I felt him take one of my hands in both of his. My smile widened a bit more.

It took me an hour and a half to regain my strength. When I did, my first act was to ensure that Varien had fared all right through the ordeal. His mind was intact, and his body was unharmed, but his expression had taken on a look of guilt as he looked into my eyes.

"Celia, I . . ." He cut himself off and tried again. "That is not . . ." He shook his head. "Please, forgive me for my . . . abhorrent behavior. It is not the way I believe or behave normally. I'm sorry . . ."

I would have stopped him before that, but I could sense that he needed to say it. I knew that had not been him, so to me, there was no need to apologize. But he felt that there was, so I let him. Then I smiled and shook my head. "No need. The one who did that was not you, Varien. I know this. I knew it then. Please do not carry this?"

He nodded and sighed a bit. I knew it would take some time to get over that for him, but at least the healing could begin. I gave his shoulder a squeeze then turned away to help Jonathan gather his things as had become our habit.

That was when I noticed it.

I stopped. "Holy . . .!" I breathed, eyes closing.

Everyone looked at me. "What?" Someone asked anxiously. So engrossed in my discovery was I that I did not register which of them it had been.

"I can get out of here!"