"Kristoff did not expect you to take the steps of Joining with him," a man's voice said behind me.
The messenger who had been on my doorstep now stood in the doorway. I blinked a couple of times as I realized that I'd seen him before. "You're Andreas. You're Kristoff's brother."
"He did not expect to have a Beloved," Andreas continued, his face only slightly resembling that of the man whose memory had haunted my dreams.
"No more than I did, but you didn't see me running away," I said, turning back to Kristoff, intending to ask him why he hadn't contacted me once in the two months since I'd saved his life, inadvertently restoring his soul, but before I could say more, he slipped back into the shadows.
"You are my Beloved," he repeated as the darkness swallowed him up, the lyrical tones of his voice lingering in the air even as he disappeared from sight. "We are bound together."
"Wait-" I said, starting forward.
Andreas grabbed my arm, saying with earnest intensity, "He did not expect you to save him."
"I had to," I tried to explain, but Andreas simply shook his head and walked out the door.
"I had no choice," I said, my hands outstretched as I looked for someone to whom I could explain the situation. Magda sighed, set down her magazine, and stood up.
"Ray's calling for me. I have to go now. We'll be here soon, and then you and I can talk about it, OK?"
"You're leaving me?" I asked, a sudden sense of panic filling me as she walked toward the dark kitchen. "You're leaving me alone?"
She paused and shook her head, her lips curved in a gentle smile. "I'm not really here, Pia. It's just a dream, nothing more."
"But Kristoff was here," I said, gesturing toward the door to my bedroom. "He was right there. I saw him."
She said nothing, just gave me another little smile; then she, too, melted into nothing.
"I saw him!" I insisted to the now empty room. "Kristoff, I saw you. Kristoff?"
The echo of my voice was the only sound.
I wrapped my arms around myself and sank to my knees with a sob of pure misery as my heart cried out his name. Kristoff!
Pia?
His voice was soft in my head, soft and intimate and warm, the feel of it flooding my senses with the memory of him. It was enough to jerk me out of the dream, hot tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as consciousness returned, and with it the profound sense of loss that seemed to be my constant companion.
As my mind fought to free itself from the muzziness of the dream, I realized what had happened. I'd called out to Kristoff from the depths of my dream, and he'd answered. Although I knew that frequently Beloveds and their Dark Ones had the ability to mind-talk to each other, our parting was sufficiently heartbreaking to keep me from trying it.
Pia?
The word resonated in my head, a sense of reluctant concern lingering long after the last echo faded away.
Yes, it's me. I'm sorry ; I was asleep. I didn't mean to disturb you. The silence that filled my head wasn't made up of silence at all-I could feel emotions flowing through him, but he was guarding himself, not allowing me to sense just what they were. Still, I wasn't going to let this opportunity slip by me. I... I've been worried about you, Kristoff. Are you OK?
Go back to sleep.
I buried my face in my pillow, trying to ignore the finality of his words, pretending I hadn't felt his mind withdraw from mine, but it was no use. Despite my nightly pledge that I would not think of him, would not dream of him, and would not wake up crying, I did just that.
At one point I thought there might be hope of a future with Kristoff. That tiny little morsel of hope shriveled up to nothing and wafted away as my body curled itself into a fetal ball, the pain of Kristoff's rejection leaving me racked with sobs as the long hours of the deep night passed into a joyless dawn. Crash!
"Sorry! I have a cart with a wonky wheel," I said by way of an apology to the woman whose shopping cart I had just bumped into while trying to maneuver my own out the door of the grocery store.
My victim reclaimed the package of toilet paper that bounced out of her cart at the impact, and waved away my apology with a gentle, "That happens. Light be with you."
"You called me up to tell me you have a wonky shopping cart?" An amused voice laughed softly in my ear as I swore under my breath, struggling one-handed to make my cart behave.
"No, I called you up because you left a message telling me to call you. Dammit! I'm so sorry, sir. It has a mind of its own. Are you hurt? Oh, good. I'll back up so you can get your shoe from the maw of the beastly thing."