Page 232 of A Winding Wave of Magic

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I Saw every past, present, and future there was and might be for us in every dimension.

Together, we sailed through them all and back to each other as heaven blew us a farewell kiss.

Gratitude swept through me at the end.

Gratitude for his safety.

And that I should have known him at all.

My magic—our magic—returned to us like a blanket on your shoulders when you’ve come in from a cold winter’s night.

Freedom was all I felt as death took us both.

And really, isn’t freedom all a soul could ever want?

62

OLD NEW WORLD

There is a trace time can’t efface

Nor years of absense dim;

It is the thought of yon sweet spot

Yon fountain’s fairy brim

— FATHER PROUT, “SUNDAY’S WELL”

Iwas alive.

I thought.

At least, I was about ninety percent sure.

Everything else could have been a product of death’s embrace. The cave, with its winding spirals and glowing walls, my soul’s sarcophagus. The warm remnants of my lover’s embrace mere comfort as I completed the passage from one world to the next.

But my breath…the way the air filled my lungs with every inhale and exhale. The way the chill of it played over my naked skin.

I was alive.

Still trapped in an ancient underground cave.

And yet somewhere…new.

A shiver tore through my body, wresting my consciousness back to the surface. It was then I opened my eyes fully into a wide ray of light that streamed from the ceiling of the cave and then proceeded tobendaround the corner and down a passage.

A passage that had not been there before.

Maybe I was dead after all.

I sat up, also conscious of things that, in my mind, wouldn’t really matter if I was dead. Things like the way my naked skin pebbled in the cool air or how tiny bits of gravel clung to the backs of my arms.

My joints ached, and my head throbbed like I had traveled a long way.

Maybe I had.

I wouldn’t feel that way if I were dead, would I?

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