a promise of the physical misery to come.
“Here is your robe, Guardian.” The tall Fae waited only until Colin had taken the garment before turning his back. “As usual, you may leave your. . . wrapping on the stool by the door.”
“I’ve no a need for yer scrap of cloth, Odirn.” Colin grinned as he accepted the robe, tossing it to the stool before unwinding his plaid. “I’ve no a problem with my own body.”
Surprisingly for a race of men who seemed to Colin more than ready to swive every female who crossed their path, the Fae were unaccountably modest about their own nudity around other men.
“You may have no problem, but have a care for the rest of us. Wear the damned robe. Why must we go through this every time, Guardian?”
Why
? Because teasing Odirn was one of the few things that amused him here in Wyddecol. As always, Colin held his own counsel on the matter, grinning more broadly at the old fellow.
The Fae placed his hands together as if in prayer, closed his eyes, and bowed low. “Blessings for a fruitful Communion, Guardian.”
“Blessings, my arse,” Colin muttered, pulling open the door.
The wet heat blasted him as he stepped inside, stinging his eyes and nose. He closed the door behind him but moved no farther into the small room, waiting instead for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the interior. The room itself was a perfect circle, its smooth surface broken only by a fire pit set against the wall, its top glowing red with coals. This was the only light source in the cramped space. Steam hissed from a massive kettle of water placed over the fire pit, rolling into the room and filling his lungs with each breath.
In the exact center of the round room, smooth stones had been carefully laid to form a circle within the circle of the room.
The Fae loved their circles—from the standing stones they’d left in the Mortal world to their ceremonial buildings, stone circles were the rule. Even their most precious Fountain here in Wyddecol, where the Souls of Fae and Mortal alike danced as they waited their turn to reenter the living world, was encircled by a ring of massive stones.
Colin stepped into the circle and seated himself on the floor to wait out the next few hours.
This might well be some sort of religious experience for the Fae, but for him it was nothing of the sort. The only positive as far as he could see was that while he was inside the RoundHouse, it was if the curse that had plagued him for ten years no longer existed. He neither felt nor heard a single soul calling out for its mate. It was the only place he’d ever found where he could let down his barriers and completely relax without fear.
For that reason alone, he almost looked forward to this experience.
As before, to his left a covered pottery bowl held fresh drinking water. He lifted the lid and scooped the accompanying cup inside, downing a long drink.
The water was unusually cold, sliding soothingly down his already parched throat. Apparently Odirn had changed it just before his arrival. He knew from experience it would be warm soon enough, so he enjoyed one more cupful before it too absorbed the heat of his surroundings.
The oppressively hot moisture closed in around him as if he were breathing underwater. He already felt the drips of liquid clinging to his lashes and nose hair. Though he’d initially had a difficult time believing how thirsty he would be in this room, after months of this he now knew from experience it would be so. It was the warning he’d been given before his first Communion and the one he’d quickly seen the wisdom of obeying.
Drink the water.
Preparations made, he laid his palms on his crossed legs, closed his eyes, and forced his mind to empty as he’d been taught.
Unlike in his prior Communion experiences, the void filled his mind almost immediately.
As if he were actually in another place, he could feel the enormity of the dark surrounding him while he floated, weightlessly
“Here is your robe, Guardian.” The tall Fae waited only until Colin had taken the garment before turning his back. “As usual, you may leave your. . . wrapping on the stool by the door.”
“I’ve no a need for yer scrap of cloth, Odirn.” Colin grinned as he accepted the robe, tossing it to the stool before unwinding his plaid. “I’ve no a problem with my own body.”
Surprisingly for a race of men who seemed to Colin more than ready to swive every female who crossed their path, the Fae were unaccountably modest about their own nudity around other men.
“You may have no problem, but have a care for the rest of us. Wear the damned robe. Why must we go through this every time, Guardian?”
Why
? Because teasing Odirn was one of the few things that amused him here in Wyddecol. As always, Colin held his own counsel on the matter, grinning more broadly at the old fellow.
The Fae placed his hands together as if in prayer, closed his eyes, and bowed low. “Blessings for a fruitful Communion, Guardian.”
“Blessings, my arse,” Colin muttered, pulling open the door.
The wet heat blasted him as he stepped inside, stinging his eyes and nose. He closed the door behind him but moved no farther into the small room, waiting instead for his eyes to adjust to the gloom of the interior. The room itself was a perfect circle, its smooth surface broken only by a fire pit set against the wall, its top glowing red with coals. This was the only light source in the cramped space. Steam hissed from a massive kettle of water placed over the fire pit, rolling into the room and filling his lungs with each breath.
In the exact center of the round room, smooth stones had been carefully laid to form a circle within the circle of the room.
The Fae loved their circles—from the standing stones they’d left in the Mortal world to their ceremonial buildings, stone circles were the rule. Even their most precious Fountain here in Wyddecol, where the Souls of Fae and Mortal alike danced as they waited their turn to reenter the living world, was encircled by a ring of massive stones.
Colin stepped into the circle and seated himself on the floor to wait out the next few hours.
This might well be some sort of religious experience for the Fae, but for him it was nothing of the sort. The only positive as far as he could see was that while he was inside the RoundHouse, it was if the curse that had plagued him for ten years no longer existed. He neither felt nor heard a single soul calling out for its mate. It was the only place he’d ever found where he could let down his barriers and completely relax without fear.
For that reason alone, he almost looked forward to this experience.
As before, to his left a covered pottery bowl held fresh drinking water. He lifted the lid and scooped the accompanying cup inside, downing a long drink.
The water was unusually cold, sliding soothingly down his already parched throat. Apparently Odirn had changed it just before his arrival. He knew from experience it would be warm soon enough, so he enjoyed one more cupful before it too absorbed the heat of his surroundings.
The oppressively hot moisture closed in around him as if he were breathing underwater. He already felt the drips of liquid clinging to his lashes and nose hair. Though he’d initially had a difficult time believing how thirsty he would be in this room, after months of this he now knew from experience it would be so. It was the warning he’d been given before his first Communion and the one he’d quickly seen the wisdom of obeying.
Drink the water.
Preparations made, he laid his palms on his crossed legs, closed his eyes, and forced his mind to empty as he’d been taught.
Unlike in his prior Communion experiences, the void filled his mind almost immediately.
As if he were actually in another place, he could feel the enormity of the dark surrounding him while he floated, weightlessly
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