Alisaura
Blue Crack Supplier
It is technically the 16th here... posting from the future as I am 
Disclaimer: All totally fictional, I know not of what I write, etc.
To continue...
end of chapter 16:
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"Oh, help. I must escape on my valiant steed..." Ed suddenly looked around, apparently realising he'd forgotten all about his valiant steed up until that moment.
Fortunately, the steed was only a short distance away, trying to eat around the bridle. It looked annoyed.
Once Ed had ridden off, I crawled back into my tent, and didn't come out again until the next day. It wasn't much of a place to hide from the world, but it was better than nothing.
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Chapter 17:
-----------
And I can't be sure of anything
Black is white, and cold is heat
For what I worshipped stole my love away
It was the ground beneath her feet
I'd dreamed that night, of course. Once the first stone was in place, Ewain seemed to burn ever more fiercely with his passion for building the ring of stones. Mag was swept up in it, infected by his enthusiasm, ignited by his fire. With any luck, the Fire-stone would be ready for raising at the winter solstice, a time when Fire was celebrated by everyone, regardless of the alignment of their local sacred places. Ewain and Mag would conduct the ceremony together. He was very interested in her role as Ritemaster, and Mag often wondered if he had been an acolyte in his old village.
But then, occasionally, the memory of Eleri's warning to her would haunt Mag's dreams. Was Ewain being consumed by his fire? He was in control. He knew what he was doing. Practically everyone in the village trusted him, had accepted him unreservedly. Mag always pushed such concerns away. Eleri had only been worried about Mag's heart being broken when the fire died, that was all. Mag knew it would die, in time, but it was still burning strong for now. Ewain was doing great things for the village; they both were.
I'd woken up from that one feeling an apprehension distinctly at odds with Mag's feelings. If she'd been real, which I did not want to believe. I thought again of the first dream I'd had, in outback Australia, about when the circle had seemed newly built. Ewain had been there, and her reaction had been far more... ambiguous. Confusing.
Ed's revelations had shaken my world down to its very core, and I was still trying to rebuild it. The faint hope that the dreams might have been banished by even the tiny quarter I'd yielded had proved to be in vain. Mag's memories, or my imagination's conjurations, were with me as strongly as ever. And moreover, I began to re-examine everything in this new light. That first dream, coupled with my initially hostile reaction to Ed, made me think that things did not end happily for Mag and Ewain. If, again, there was any chance this was real.
-------
It was incredibly hard for me to snap back into work-mode, but I had no choice. I mapped for two more days before the weather closed in and sent me back to the village – there was another week's worth of work, most of which I could do in day-trips, and then I would be finished. Finished with the village, finished with the stone circle, finished with all of this craziness. My life would go back to normal, and I couldn't wait.
Except for one thing. Glen.
The prospect of telling him what had happened had been eating at me for those last two days, and now I was back in the village. My mind went round in ever-decreasing circles – I would tell him, and he would leave me. I would tell him, and he would laugh about it. I would tell him, and he would fly into a rage. I would not tell him, and he would somehow find out later, then fly into a rage and leave me. I would not tell him, and he would never find out, but it would eat at me, and I would turn into a bitter, suspicious old woman, and probably destroy our relationship anyway.
Once, for a joke, I told a job interviewer that I was 'honest to a fault' when asked what one of my weaknesses was. It was true, though. Guilt would force the truth out of me sooner or later, and I figured sooner was better.
But thought is a long way from action. I'd told myself that I would call Glen the moment I got back to the B&B... but once I was there, I thought I really should settle in a bit, have a much-needed shower, air out the tent and sleeping bag, organise my notes, and generally restore myself to humanity.
When I was clean and organised, I sat in front of the phone, paralysed. Maybe I should get some sleep first, I thought, then stopped myself. If I started down that path, I'd never do it. Not until I saw him again, at any rate... and I didn't want to have to explain why I'd waited.
Or maybe it would be better to tell him face to face, I thought then. Maybe he'll think I'm trying to avoid his reaction, if I tell him over the phone. Maybe I am trying to avoid it...
No. I owe it to him to be honest. If I don't speak to him until I get back, he'll wonder why. And if I do call him and say nothing about it, then it's a lie of omission.
I picked up the phone, dialled half of the number, then got cold feet and hung up. I fumbled for a tissue and blew my nose. My hands were shaking.
"It was just a kiss," I said to myself, then gave an unsteady little giggle. If I told Glen about that 'kiss', and explained it the way it had happened, I would have to tell him everything. Ed, the dreams, the circle, the lot. As much as I wanted to share all these bizarre experiences with him and have his understanding, these were not the circumstances I want to do it under. And my nerves were already frayed past breaking point... I really would be better off after some sleep.
Except I would dream again. And the last couple of nights had hardly been restful, more dream than sleep.
Stop thinking. Call him. Now.
I dialled our number.
"Hello?"
I couldn't speak.
"Hello? Anyone there?"
Still nothing.
"Look, if this is one of those telemarketers, I'm—"
"No, it's me," I said quickly, my voice rough.
"Lise? What's wrong?"
Oh god. Why did he have to sound so concerned and Welsh and wonderful? "I... something happened. I have to –"
"What's happened? Are you all right?" Concern had risen to fear in his tone. It hurt me to hear it, to think about what I would have to do to that unthinking trust.
"I have to tell you something. I'm not hurt. Physically." I'd managed to steady my own voice. The silence on the other end of the line smote me even more than Glen's concern had.
"What do you have to tell me?" His voice sounded tightly controlled as well.
I thought of saying 'I love you', and pretending that was all, but stopped myself. I had to force each word out. "It's... a long story. Some really... weird things have been happening... I don't understand any of it! I don't know what's going on..." I was in tears again. I had to get it out. "I kissed someone. I don't even like him!"
There was silence as Glen absorbed that. "Who was it?" he asked in a very neutral tone.
I had been hoping he wouldn't ask, but I would have had to tell him eventually. What difference could it make to a man, I wondered briefly. If he didn't know who other guy was in any case, why ask who it was?
"Ed."
"What? Is he following you around again? If he's done something... hurt you..." Now he sounded protective, angry. He was looking for a reason to blame someone else. My heart nearly broke.
"No, no, he didn't... attack me. Well, not really. I mean, neither of us knew what was happening. We were having these dreams, and then he told me about the dew, and we both went into the circle and it was like one of the dreams but we were awake, and it wasn't US, it was them, and my nail broke and we sort of came to, except we hadn't really been asleep, but it was a dream, and I swear, I don't want anything to do with him, I never did and I love you..."
"Whoa, slow down, you're not making any sense..."
"It doesn't MAKE any sense!" I sobbed.
"Lisa, love, you're scaring me," Glen said.
"Well, that makes two of us," I replied, trying desperately to get a grip on myself. I was so, so relieved to hear him call me 'love', though. "He's married. He's freaked out too."
"Really." Glen's tone was flat. "Tell me what happened again, slowly," he went on, more gently.
Skipping as much of the dreams and philosophy as I could, I did. But it was still an impossible picture. There was more silence from Glen after I'd finished. I waited.
"That's one hell of a story," he said at last. "If I didn't know you better, I might think you were making it up to hide that you're cheating on me..."
"I'm not, I swear! I'm not cheating on you, I didn't make it up..." Fear gripped my heart.
"But I do know you, if you'd let me finish," he said, a touch exasperated, and still concerned. "I know you're not the type to invent stories like that. I know you're honest. Another woman might never have told me, or waited until she'd got home, or made up a more plausible story. Were you drunk?"
"No." If only I'd had such a mundane excuse...
Glen sighed. "I don't know... I need to think about this. You sound like you could use a good night's sleep." I nearly laughed. "When do you get back?"
"Another week," I replied.
"All right. We can talk about this then, okay?"
"Okay," I sniffed. "I love you."
"You too," Glen said, and hung up.
I blinked. 'You too'? He did say that sometimes, but suddenly it took on ominous new meaning. He hadn't said he loved me, not right out. Was it really just an unthinking reflex that made him say it then, or something else? And would I have even noticed, without all this going on? God, that would be gnawing at me all week, now, too.
-------------
Disclaimer: All totally fictional, I know not of what I write, etc.
To continue...
end of chapter 16:
--------
"Oh, help. I must escape on my valiant steed..." Ed suddenly looked around, apparently realising he'd forgotten all about his valiant steed up until that moment.
Fortunately, the steed was only a short distance away, trying to eat around the bridle. It looked annoyed.
Once Ed had ridden off, I crawled back into my tent, and didn't come out again until the next day. It wasn't much of a place to hide from the world, but it was better than nothing.
-----------
Chapter 17:
-----------
And I can't be sure of anything
Black is white, and cold is heat
For what I worshipped stole my love away
It was the ground beneath her feet
I'd dreamed that night, of course. Once the first stone was in place, Ewain seemed to burn ever more fiercely with his passion for building the ring of stones. Mag was swept up in it, infected by his enthusiasm, ignited by his fire. With any luck, the Fire-stone would be ready for raising at the winter solstice, a time when Fire was celebrated by everyone, regardless of the alignment of their local sacred places. Ewain and Mag would conduct the ceremony together. He was very interested in her role as Ritemaster, and Mag often wondered if he had been an acolyte in his old village.
But then, occasionally, the memory of Eleri's warning to her would haunt Mag's dreams. Was Ewain being consumed by his fire? He was in control. He knew what he was doing. Practically everyone in the village trusted him, had accepted him unreservedly. Mag always pushed such concerns away. Eleri had only been worried about Mag's heart being broken when the fire died, that was all. Mag knew it would die, in time, but it was still burning strong for now. Ewain was doing great things for the village; they both were.
I'd woken up from that one feeling an apprehension distinctly at odds with Mag's feelings. If she'd been real, which I did not want to believe. I thought again of the first dream I'd had, in outback Australia, about when the circle had seemed newly built. Ewain had been there, and her reaction had been far more... ambiguous. Confusing.
Ed's revelations had shaken my world down to its very core, and I was still trying to rebuild it. The faint hope that the dreams might have been banished by even the tiny quarter I'd yielded had proved to be in vain. Mag's memories, or my imagination's conjurations, were with me as strongly as ever. And moreover, I began to re-examine everything in this new light. That first dream, coupled with my initially hostile reaction to Ed, made me think that things did not end happily for Mag and Ewain. If, again, there was any chance this was real.
-------
It was incredibly hard for me to snap back into work-mode, but I had no choice. I mapped for two more days before the weather closed in and sent me back to the village – there was another week's worth of work, most of which I could do in day-trips, and then I would be finished. Finished with the village, finished with the stone circle, finished with all of this craziness. My life would go back to normal, and I couldn't wait.
Except for one thing. Glen.
The prospect of telling him what had happened had been eating at me for those last two days, and now I was back in the village. My mind went round in ever-decreasing circles – I would tell him, and he would leave me. I would tell him, and he would laugh about it. I would tell him, and he would fly into a rage. I would not tell him, and he would somehow find out later, then fly into a rage and leave me. I would not tell him, and he would never find out, but it would eat at me, and I would turn into a bitter, suspicious old woman, and probably destroy our relationship anyway.
Once, for a joke, I told a job interviewer that I was 'honest to a fault' when asked what one of my weaknesses was. It was true, though. Guilt would force the truth out of me sooner or later, and I figured sooner was better.
But thought is a long way from action. I'd told myself that I would call Glen the moment I got back to the B&B... but once I was there, I thought I really should settle in a bit, have a much-needed shower, air out the tent and sleeping bag, organise my notes, and generally restore myself to humanity.
When I was clean and organised, I sat in front of the phone, paralysed. Maybe I should get some sleep first, I thought, then stopped myself. If I started down that path, I'd never do it. Not until I saw him again, at any rate... and I didn't want to have to explain why I'd waited.
Or maybe it would be better to tell him face to face, I thought then. Maybe he'll think I'm trying to avoid his reaction, if I tell him over the phone. Maybe I am trying to avoid it...
No. I owe it to him to be honest. If I don't speak to him until I get back, he'll wonder why. And if I do call him and say nothing about it, then it's a lie of omission.
I picked up the phone, dialled half of the number, then got cold feet and hung up. I fumbled for a tissue and blew my nose. My hands were shaking.
"It was just a kiss," I said to myself, then gave an unsteady little giggle. If I told Glen about that 'kiss', and explained it the way it had happened, I would have to tell him everything. Ed, the dreams, the circle, the lot. As much as I wanted to share all these bizarre experiences with him and have his understanding, these were not the circumstances I want to do it under. And my nerves were already frayed past breaking point... I really would be better off after some sleep.
Except I would dream again. And the last couple of nights had hardly been restful, more dream than sleep.
Stop thinking. Call him. Now.
I dialled our number.
"Hello?"
I couldn't speak.
"Hello? Anyone there?"
Still nothing.
"Look, if this is one of those telemarketers, I'm—"
"No, it's me," I said quickly, my voice rough.
"Lise? What's wrong?"
Oh god. Why did he have to sound so concerned and Welsh and wonderful? "I... something happened. I have to –"
"What's happened? Are you all right?" Concern had risen to fear in his tone. It hurt me to hear it, to think about what I would have to do to that unthinking trust.
"I have to tell you something. I'm not hurt. Physically." I'd managed to steady my own voice. The silence on the other end of the line smote me even more than Glen's concern had.
"What do you have to tell me?" His voice sounded tightly controlled as well.
I thought of saying 'I love you', and pretending that was all, but stopped myself. I had to force each word out. "It's... a long story. Some really... weird things have been happening... I don't understand any of it! I don't know what's going on..." I was in tears again. I had to get it out. "I kissed someone. I don't even like him!"
There was silence as Glen absorbed that. "Who was it?" he asked in a very neutral tone.
I had been hoping he wouldn't ask, but I would have had to tell him eventually. What difference could it make to a man, I wondered briefly. If he didn't know who other guy was in any case, why ask who it was?
"Ed."
"What? Is he following you around again? If he's done something... hurt you..." Now he sounded protective, angry. He was looking for a reason to blame someone else. My heart nearly broke.
"No, no, he didn't... attack me. Well, not really. I mean, neither of us knew what was happening. We were having these dreams, and then he told me about the dew, and we both went into the circle and it was like one of the dreams but we were awake, and it wasn't US, it was them, and my nail broke and we sort of came to, except we hadn't really been asleep, but it was a dream, and I swear, I don't want anything to do with him, I never did and I love you..."
"Whoa, slow down, you're not making any sense..."
"It doesn't MAKE any sense!" I sobbed.
"Lisa, love, you're scaring me," Glen said.
"Well, that makes two of us," I replied, trying desperately to get a grip on myself. I was so, so relieved to hear him call me 'love', though. "He's married. He's freaked out too."
"Really." Glen's tone was flat. "Tell me what happened again, slowly," he went on, more gently.
Skipping as much of the dreams and philosophy as I could, I did. But it was still an impossible picture. There was more silence from Glen after I'd finished. I waited.
"That's one hell of a story," he said at last. "If I didn't know you better, I might think you were making it up to hide that you're cheating on me..."
"I'm not, I swear! I'm not cheating on you, I didn't make it up..." Fear gripped my heart.
"But I do know you, if you'd let me finish," he said, a touch exasperated, and still concerned. "I know you're not the type to invent stories like that. I know you're honest. Another woman might never have told me, or waited until she'd got home, or made up a more plausible story. Were you drunk?"
"No." If only I'd had such a mundane excuse...
Glen sighed. "I don't know... I need to think about this. You sound like you could use a good night's sleep." I nearly laughed. "When do you get back?"
"Another week," I replied.
"All right. We can talk about this then, okay?"
"Okay," I sniffed. "I love you."
"You too," Glen said, and hung up.
I blinked. 'You too'? He did say that sometimes, but suddenly it took on ominous new meaning. He hadn't said he loved me, not right out. Was it really just an unthinking reflex that made him say it then, or something else? And would I have even noticed, without all this going on? God, that would be gnawing at me all week, now, too.
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Yet again, amazing! Why can't I write this well?
the future..... man I've never read a story in the future before! 
I should read more future stories!
Anyway, good chappy again, Ali. I really can't wait to see how you're going to end this one. I can't begin to guess what you've got up your sleeve...
I meant your sleeve....
)
