Chapter 2
Caelum Alte
Goldie floated adrift on the tepid billows of a cloud. A sigh of content pushed through softly parted lips, golden sweep of lashes parted like a veil from her eyes. Under a haze of a soft yellow light, white wisps swirled around her head and body. Vibrant blue vines curled around her limbs and core. The phenomenon was comfortable and soothing. Feels like…heaven, she thought, eyes closing.
Heaven.
Goldie’s body buoyed in the expanse of shifting mist, as she lurched out of her languid state. The movement brought about the revelation of her extremely naked condition. Flashes of blue light and memories flooded Goldie’s consciousness, as if on a switch. The moment of her death reeled before her eyes. Bullets punching into her chest and neck.
She lifted one languid arm, fingers gliding over her flesh, searching for the wounds. Her skin was smooth. She raised her head, eyes roaming the area above her left breast. Only a circular shimmer of silver where the bullet hole should have been. She touched tentative fingers to the metallic looking patch. It felt smooth and had the same sensitivity as her own skin. She ran fingers over her neck where she was certain a bullet had struck but felt nothing there, either.
“Piquo suanzi, chetsena” a feminine voice said softly.
A hand came through the clouds and grasped her wrist, then a woman’s face appeared over her. It was the face of an angel and somehow familiar to Goldie.
“You are safe, chetsena.” The angel’s English heavily accented.
“Sarah?” Memories of the girl from the rest stop came back to her.
“I am called Estella.”
“Where are we?” Goldie tried to look beyond the mist surrounding her. A slow panic grew inside of her. She felt marginally embarrassed and disadvantaged, dangling so vulnerably.
“Do not worry. You are safe,” Estella told her.
“Am I dead?”
“Na,” The girl chuckled. “You live.”
Goldie’s mind jumped to Clinton. He had been shot. Killed?
“The man in your heart. Cleen-tone. He is here.” Estella eyed her closely. Was she reading Goldie’s thoughts?
“Oh, he’s not…” Goldie began to say he wasn’t in her heart but thought the explanation would be too complicated and she didn’t have that kind of energy. “May I…” She was about to ask if she could get out of the cloud and get dressed, when a shrill voice filled the room. A new face looked down at her. She bore a resemblance to…
Goldie was roused into consciousness once again. “Te Priada di lonos at al lu sti!” A woman’s scolding voice. Estella, who stood just feet from her body, flinched and spun around, tucking her hands behind her like a naughty child. She disappeared into the white swirls followed by the rise of heated female voices in a language Goldie did not recognize.
Estella reappeared, frowning slightly. She shook her head.
“Majesta, my sister. An expert healer. But . . .pro-tec-tive of her domain.”
Estella lightly touched her index finger to the blue twine wrapped around Goldie’s ankles, dissipating them. Her feet drifted down to a cool and solid floor.
“She is like the mother to her child.”
Estella released her mid-section and her arms. The blue cords appeared to be charges of electricity. Goldie had read something once about the possibility of healing serious injuries with electro frequencies. A far-reaching assumption in her jumbled mind, and she was no scientist. The more pressing concern was the matter of her current whereabouts. Wherever here was, she had a feeling it was not a place down the road from the local burger joint.
Estella handed Goldie a thin, white robe and she shrugged it on, instantly feeling more at ease in the young woman’s presence. There was only one button to close the front, but it was better than nothing. She noticed that Estella looked far healthier than she remembered. The wound on her temple was gone. Her long shimmery hair fell in careless waves about her shoulders. Many small braids crisscrossed on the top of her head, keeping the hair out of her face.
“Forgive me, that I have brought you here” the girl said. “It was the only choice I could accept.”
Estella’s tone was that of a woman torn and convincing herself, not Goldie, that she had made the right decision. Goldie reached out to touch the young woman’s arm to reassure her, but Estella pulled away.
“Where is here?” Her mind filled with so many questions, she didn’t know where to start. “How much time has passed?”
“The twin suns have twice risen since we crossed the skies to Caelum. The center of the multiverse.”
Caelum. Goldie thought she recognized the word. It was Latin. An ancient word meaning sky, or heaven.
Estella’s expression was stoic, her lips parted as if she had more to say, but she clamped them close again. She moved to take Goldie’s hand, then seemed to change her mind. With a flip of her wrist, she waved for Goldie to follow.
“Come. We go to the baths. You will feel much better.”
Center of the multiverse? Estella’s words settled into Goldie’s mind as she trailed behind. Her first impressions of the girl were proving to be far off the mark. Injured, weak and disoriented, Estella had seemed a poor fledgling fallen from the sky. Goldie had been wrong. Obvious, the girl possessed unusual abilities, but something else stood out about her. A kind of regalness, or authority, perhaps. A wall, too. Goldie could sense Estella’s desire to be…separate.
They entered an adjoining room where Estella’s sister, Majesta, was busy grinding up some sort of leaves. She glared at them with contempt.
“Outsiders are not welcome here, you know that.” She threw a few more leaves into her dish and continued to grind. “It is divine law of Caelum.”
“For the hundredth time, sister, you misinterpret the law.”
“For the thousandth time, you are not my sister.” Majesta’s lip curled up on one side.
Estella pointed at her. “Should you ever need my help, I will remember your words.”
“I would rather die than ask for help from a shadow soul,” Majesta spat. Then added with a sneer. “In the case of your shattered soul, I’d jump into the Tempest Mantle.
“As you wish.” Estella gave her curt nod, jaws clenched, and glanced at Goldie. “Let us leave this carmacaa.”
Goldie followed her through another door thinking whatever carmacaa meant, it wasn’t anything good. They stepped into an airy hall and she gapped at its grandeur. She turned in a slow circle taking it in. The hall was as wide as a single lane highway, stretching an undeterminable length in either direction. Goldie thought to have such a huge hallway must mean there were a lot of people who used it. Right now, the hall was empty.
Along the length of the hall, on the opposite side from where they stood, were tall windows that rose from the height of Goldie’s waist to just below the gold painted ceiling. An intricate five inch carving framed every window from ledge to spire, and from what Goldie could see, each design was distinctly unique from one to the next. Sheer gold and white curtains billowed with a gentle breeze, parting to reveal a marvel of colors on the other side.
Goldie padded to the nearest portal, and gasped in wonder. It was not the blue sky she was accustomed to, this sky appeared to have no rules. It was as though a child had painted it with all the prettiest colors of a sherbet pallet. To either side of her, she could see the massive and lavish architecture of the creamy white castle that glittered in ambience of the twin suns. Stars, she corrected herself. One star was pink, the other orange. Looking down she saw a thick layer of white clouds below them. I made it seem as though the castle was floating above the saw they were several stories above the point where the structure disappeared into a blanket of clouds.
Estella came to her side, gazing over the far-reaching clouds. “Caelum Alte is the masterwork of the Adi people, the first people. It is a tribute to Lord Haniel. He was the first of the Vaalea people. The Fair Ones.”
Goldie glanced at her. “Your people are the Vaalea?”
Estella turned to her. Her pale grey eyes flashed with a troubled light. “I have no people.”
Goldie felt shaken by the statement. “But your sister. . .”
“In time you will understand, chetsena.”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Goldie did not think she would. Her plan was to return home as soon as possible and explain everything that had happened to her and Clinton to the authorities. Now that she was certain that Hayes had been telling the truth, they needed to clear up the mess and initiate an investigation of Brad Bart.
Estella turned away from the window. “Come,” she beckoned Goldie. “Your bath awaits.”
The design of Caelum Alte reminded Goldie of the detailed construction she had seen on her trip to Rome, with her best friend Cassie. Unfortunately, Goldie had been running away from a broken heart, at the time. Choosing such a romantic destination had not been wise. The city had been crowded, that week in May, with young lovers. No matter what side street, café, piazza, and ruin she and Cassie visited, the petals of young love were tossed in her face. Hugging, holding hands, kissing, sharing desserts and laughter, she was a prisoner to the reminder of the love she had lost. Or never had to begin with. It had soured her disposition and nearly ruined Cassie’s vacation.
The huge castle was surprisingly scant of people to fill it. Goldie wondered why such a lavish and enormous castle had been built for so few. The handful of people they did pass, as they moved through the halls and staircases of the castle, were men. Each person looked relatively alike to Goldie, with pale skin and nearly white – long, straight hair, their eyes a powder blue. Perhaps a kind of albinism. Goldie noticed their reactions toward she and Estella were brief exhibitions of emotions ranging from curiosity, indifference, to outright disdain.
Goldie followed Estella down a long curving staircase into a warm room with rows of smooth, pearly benches, veined with sparkling gold dust. The wall to her immediate right was crafted with numerous nooks and hooks. Semi-sheer curtains of gold and red flowed with the rhythm of a lazily breathy wind. Laughter carried into the room from the open archway to her far left.
“We remove clothing here,” Estella said. She sat on one of the benches and unwrapped the leather straps from her moccasin-style boots and pulled them off. Goldie watched as the girl quickly shed her leather pants, vest and blouse. She neatly bundled everything and placed the stack of items into one of the cubby holes. Estella turned to Goldie in fully nude, bronzed skin, perfection. She cocked an eyebrow, seeing that Goldie had not disrobed.
“I, uh.” Goldie had assumed the bath would be private, for some reason. Under the eye of this goddess, she felt her embarrassment resurfacing. Laughter danced through the archway, once again, followed by a couple of delighted squeals. Goldie felt her cheeks flush, fiddling with clasp at the front of the robe.
Estella strode gracefully to the entrance of the adjoining room and clapped her hands sharply, three times.
“Pragoen!” Estella said with authority.
After more giggling, and some splashing, three women hurried into the changing area, their bodies glistening wet. They were not like the people Goldie had seen walking through the castle. The women had dark bronze skin and dark hair. When they saw Goldie, they exchanged a few words in a language she did not understand, but their curiosity was apparent. The women fluttered around Goldie like butterflies to a meadow flower. They ran their fingers over her golden hair, picking up thick strands and holding them to their noses, sniffing. The shortest of the girls leaned close to her face, examining the freckles sprinkled over Goldie’s nose and cheeks.
Goldie pulled away from them, overwhelmed by their bold interest. As she did, her loose robe parted and slipped from her shoulders, caught beneath the foot of the tallest girl. It fell to the floor. A new twittering of awe arose as they perused the ivory curves of her body, down to the golden fluff of hair between her legs.
“Stop it.” Gold held her hands up, in what she hoped was a universal gesture for them to move away from her.
“Niansita!” Estella’s sharp tone sent the women scurrying to the cubbies to retrieve their clothing items.
“They fear me.” Estella shrugged, with a hint of a smile. “You are ready?”
Goldie cleared her throat. “Yes,” She tried to sound unshaken. She glanced back at the women, who were now dressing. The smallest one peaked over her shoulder and smiled. She lifted her hand up in a gesture that mirrored the one Goldie had used. She didn’t think the girl was mocking her, but that she understood and conceded to her desire to be left alone.
She trailed behind Estella into a room with a large blossom shaped pool. Each off-shooting petal appeared to be a separate bathing area. At the center of the flower was a circular platform laden with a variety of cheeses, meats, and fruit. Goldie was reminded of the buffet at the Silver Stallion Resort. It also featured a refreshments bar. Then she smelled it. That smell so sweet and so bitter to her at the same time. Hayes’ cigar smoke.
“Hop in ladies, the water’s fine!” Hayes bobbed into view from the opposite side of the smorgasbord. Goldie placed an arm over her breasts, the other hand flew to her groin. Hayes eyed her wickedly, then let out a long burp.
’’S’cuse me.”
“You’re drunk.” Goldie frowned at him, hoping to use the accusation to divert his attention away from her nakedness. She noticed the deep tan of his muscular chest and biceps. Some of the dark hair on his left pectoral muscle had been removed and there was a quarter-sized silver circle there. Like the one she had on her neck and between her breasts.
Hayes grinned, with a cigar stub jutting from the corner of his mouth and raised his glass to her. “Nope, just enjoying sum’a this magic juice.”
“Ysisi,” Estella said, sitting down on the edge of the pool. “A powerful nectar of health and abundance.”
“To Ysisi!” Hayes raised his glass and took a long drink.
Goldie spotted a set of steps leading into the pool and hastily moved toward them. The cover of water would give her a layer of protection against Hayes’ perverted scrutiny. She hated having his eyes raking over her body.
His voice chased after her. “Don’ be shy. Seen that cute birthday suit-a yours before, ‘member?”
“Sure. That was before you shed your sheep skin and revealed what you really are.”
Goldie splashed into the pool and dunked down to her shoulders. She felt instant relief. Safe from enemy eyes. The temperature of the water was delightful. A gentle floral aroma soothed her senses.
“Your cleansing was acceptable?” Estella slid into the water and swam toward Hayes.
“Ab-so-lutely,” Hayes answered, with a little too much enthusiasm in his tone for Goldie.
“You actually made those women wash you?” Goldie was irked at his audacity.
Hayes lifted his arms to gesture to their surroundings. “When in Rome?”
“You’re an ass,” Goldie sparked.
Hayes served her a wolfish grin. “Never denied it.”
“Ugh!” Goldie dunked under the water, sick of his face. He hadn’t changed, and never would. He’d cheated on her two years ago and had not even tried to explain himself. Here he was acting like the man whore that he was without any shame. Not that she cared personally. No. She was far removed from caring what the hell he did. If he wanted to look like an ass in a foreign land, world, whatever – let him.
She swam into one of the petal shaped enclaves to get away from his view. There she found a squishy pink disc about the shape of a breast implant. It even had a nipple on top. She picked the thing up and squeezed it. A pearly liquid oozed from the tit shaped object.
“Shada,” Estella called to her. “It is used to wash. For hair and body.
“Oh, right,” Goldie said, thinking it had probably been designed by a male. The perversions of that species was apparently universal. Mildly grossed out, she lathered up the shada and began to wash.
“You may have help, if you so wish, chetsena.”
“I’m good,” Goldie muttered, unable to miss the fact that Estella and Hayes were now nose to nose, giggling and feeding each other berries of some kind.
She hurriedly washed her hair and face, then performed a thorough scrubbing of her body with the textured tit. The sooner this was finished, the sooner she could get directions for home. Just point me in the general direction, she thought, I’ll figure the rest out, myself. She could not get away from Hayes and his despicable character fast enough.
#
Clinton watched over the top of Estella’s head as Goldie made a hasty retreat into the changing room. Her round, water-slicked ass jiggling, in all the right ways, with every hurried step. She would be mortified to know his attention was fully on her and not the beautiful Estella now. Assessing her assets, he thought wryly. She was still smoking hot.
Just as she disappeared through the archway, her abrupt shriek echoed into the bathing room. Before Clinton could respond three men strode into the room, stopping at the edge of the pool near he and Estella. Two of the men appeared to be guards of some kind. Each was dark and tall with bulging muscles. They wore brown leather vests and pants with swords strapped to their waists.
The man between the two hulks was much smaller, appearing almost dainty in comparison. He was clad in white silk from head to boot. His loosely cut shirt was tucked into form fitting pants. A long cape flowed from his shoulders to the ankles of his white, knee-high boots. His skin and hair were nearly as white as his clothing. Clinton guessed the man was about his same age, although his expressionless face said he had not experienced a day of fun his entire life.
“Lu bina al ut de sembion (You have been summoned by the counsel),” the man said. “E dula tey.” (All of you) The man pointed his finger from Estella to Clinton.
“I didn’t touch her,” Clinton said, holding his hands above the water. He wondered how old Estella was, as the glint of a long, curved knife dangling at the waist of one of the large brutes caught his eye. It looked especially designed for slitting throats.
“We have been summoned by the council,” Estella told him.
“Dula tey ut de sembion vi niansita,” she told the pale man.
“Na. Dula tey brom va,” the man said, firmly, and spun away from them. The men walked brusquely out of the bathing room.
Goldie hurried into the room cloaked in a white robe.
“Who were those men?”
“Corgian is Steward to Lord Brialin. The others are Adi men in his service, Sentinels,” Estella said. “We dress now. The Devine Council waits for our testimony.”
“Testimony?” Clinton asked.
“Your presence here is. . .not accepted.” Estella paused as if searching for the right words. “I say to mean, you are from the outside. This must be explained.”
Clinton looked at Goldie, her eyes were as wide as a schoolgirl caught with a cigarette.
“No problem. We can hit the road first thing in the morning.” Clinton tossed back the rest of his Ysisi juice.
Estella shook her head. “The path to your home is far. Crossing the skies is the only way.”
“Ok, let’s do that.” Clinton was not exactly sure how that would be accomplished. If she was a Wakinyan, as he believed, then she wasn’t talking about jumping in an airplane, or a spaceship. As a Thunder Being - or Thunder Spirit, Estella was talking about traveling from one place to another via electrical currents. How was that physically possible?
“It is impossible,” Estella said, seeming to echo his thoughts. “You would not survive the journey.”
“We crossed the skies to get here.” Clinton’s tongue slid around his mouth like a captured eel after uncounted scoops of Ysisi juice. He felt great. “Can’t we do it again?”
“You traveled in death, then. In life, the blood may boil inside your body.”
Estella climbed out of the water. Clinton was momentarily surprised once again by the sleek perfection of her body as she turned to him without regard for her nakedness. Her breasts were as high and taught as the rest of her lean, muscled body. He wondered what she did to… Clinton’s eyes rose to meet Estella’s hard stare. He blinked and looked away, clearing his throat. His obscene ogling caught, shamed, and shutdown with one look from this goddess.
“We dress now. The council has no skill to wait.” Clinton watched her saunter into the other room. The tick-tock of her ass was kind of mesmerizing.
“Roll up your disgusting tongue,” Goldie snapped, standing over him and apparently reading his dirty mind. “You’re a miserable letch who can’t keep it in his pants.”
“Luckily, I don’t have pants to worry about right now.”
Goldie gave him a dirty look and stormed out of the bathing room. Clinton chuckled. He didn’t know why he found teasing her so entertaining. He let a few more minute’s pass before easing out of the water and swaggering around the wavy edged pool. He wondered about this testimony thing and the mysterious sounding council. Estella said their presence there was not accepted. Logically, if a stray dog gets into the backyard - you return it to the owner, chase it away, or…something else. But according to Estella there was only one way to get back home. Clinton had died once. He didn’t plan on doing that shit again for a very long time.
Did you enjoy this chapter?
