Page 52 of The Enduring Universe
Let it happen, Bhaskar said, and his laughter sounded like the falcon’s roar.
If the tree dies, so do the Virohi, Agni growled, and behind them the yaksha beat its wings.
But Iravan held onto himself by sheer will.
Because it was him,him, listening to his wife scream—not their wife, but his, and that meant something, despite everything.
And his desire—his—flared in rebellion.
The tree shook, and he fell to his knees, wrapping her in his arms, forming a shield of his intent around them both. It happened in the Etherium borne of his connection with her, but it happened in reality too—he could see it, a shimmering of air around her body while she knelt at the vriksh.
Ahilya wept, trembling, holding on to the tree and him. Iravan screamed against the voices telling him to let go. The planet raged around the two of them—and only them, a whipping of their hair, wind like jagged pieces of glass, rain that thrummed drenching them, mud that filled their mouths, choking them.
Iravan locked onto his desire, trajecting each element separately, turning the mud into dust so when he coughed and breathed, Ahilya did too. He trajected, changing sharp rain into soft dew drops that melted onto their skins. The wind turned into smooth caresses, no longer scoring them, and he and Ahilya gasped, while the planet tried to assert its dominance.
He trajected with the everpower, dizzyingly fast—
And lost his balance, in the manner of forcefully pushing a door that was already ajar. Iravan flipped in midair, trying to stabilize. Isanya had left him, and for a second he felt horror, to be alone while the past lives of his Etherium retreated from thedanger, while the planet attacked him, and the consciousness meld occurred.
Then it registered.
The planet had stilled. The attack of the memories had stopped.
This was a testing, a resting. The planet was spent for now, a brief lull occurring.
He could see Ahilya, holding onto the tree, her arms limp, slowly falling by her side. Her eyes were unseeing. In the Etherium, she was light as air, collapsing into him, the thorns receding.
He tightened his hold, brushing her hair back, leaning to check on her.
But she was spent, losing consciousness already.
Her Etherium winked out, banishing him once again.
31
AHILYA
When she became conscious, it rendered first in the forest like a dream.
She found herself lying on someone’s lap, staring up at the canopy of the vriksh. She shifted, alarmed, but Iravan bent to her. She relaxed—because he looked likeherIravan. He was dressed in his white Senior Architect uniform, the sleeves rolled back, blue-green trajection tattoos on his skin. His near-black eyes were deep pools of concern. “I’ve been waiting,” he said softly, relief breaking over his features. “Oh my love, I have been so worried.”
He helped her sit up, and she stared around her. The vast forest of the vriksh was once again still—as still as it could be with leaves curling and uncurling everywhere as if in an airborne ashram. She could not sense the Virohi anymore, but a presence seemed wrapped around her heart. She looked down to her chest, expecting to see tight bands of roots holding her, but her fingers merely traced over her clothes.
“You are here? In my forest?” she croaked, her mouth dry.
“I’ve been waiting,” he repeated sadly. “Waiting with myEtherium open, hoping you would summon me, and you have.” There were questions behind these words, she could tell, of how she had summoned him, of what had happened to her, but he did not ask them. How was it that he looked so much like the Iravan she had lost?
“It’s because you have control here,” he said, answering her as if he could hear the question. His smile was lopsided, wretched. “Oh my love,” he whispered, leaning down, and she was surprised to see tears tracking down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I never wanted it to be this way.”
His mouth met hers, and she opened her own, and felt him shudder against him. He tasted of salt, and terror, and regret, but before either of them could deepen the kiss, Ahilya felt the bands across her chest tighten. She pushed away from him, and this time she saw the roots wrapped around her, though Iravan did not seem to notice. She lifted her hands to her eyes and saw not fingers but branches protruding. She stifled her cry, closing her eyes tightly—
A fuzziness of existence where she was turning into the tree.
She screamed for Iravan, for Eskayra, for anyone to hear her—
And awoke with a jerk within the infirmary once more.
She knew instantly where she was. The familiar scents of herbs and ointments climbed up her nose the second she came to herself. She could hear the soft swishing of the pale-white curtains, and when she opened her eyes she saw the rock ceiling with the crisscross patterns, comforting in its familiarity.
