(no subject)
It was well past midnight, but I was still awake, my eyes traveling the path of the moon's ascent as it inched across my window. Finally I could take no more and rose, flinging a light robe around my shoulders. Joscelin stirred and looked at me, his eyes alert and gleaming. "I can't sleep," I said. "I'm going for a walk." He watched me go, wanting, I think, to ask me to speak of my trouble, but knowing it was perhaps wiser to remain silent. I was grateful to him for that, and almost I turned back, went to claim comfort in his arms-- but I felt as I had for many months, restless, fractious, the simplicity of my daily life becoming an irritant instead of a balm.
So I went, shoving my feet into the tall rubber boots I'd learned were the safest footwear in this exotic new climate, and clumping my way down to the ground. The jungle tinted everything with a rich shine, and there was the suggestion of movement everywhere -- animals furred and scaled, winged and clawed, a hundred thousand insects on the wing making the air hum-- and as I wound my way to Elua's temple I kept my eyes open for anything that might be dangerous.
The temple, too, had changed, the pale wooden walls erected by the building crew having changed into weathered latticed teak, and the vines that hung down over the arched entrance were no longer hibiscus but the fragrant jasmine. My gifts from the island had transformed themselves into plants I could barely recognize, leaves as large as my head, flowers I could almost drown in. Vines leapt from wall to tree to sky, and only the anemones and Elua's benevolent face told the tale of the temple's true purpose.
At the arch I shucked the boots and entered barefoot, stepping on thick moss and grass softer than the finest Akkadian carpet. Once there I breathed relief, taking a candle and the plastic firestarter from the waterproof box inside the gate and lighting my way, touching the flame to all the little lanterns dotting the path to Elua's feet. It was only as I got very close that I saw one of the shadows move, and I froze, instantly thinking what sorts of beasts might have made their way in; but then the shadow split in two, and the light fell on Hyacinthe's face, and it was all I could do not to drop the candle from my suddenly nerveless fingers.
So I went, shoving my feet into the tall rubber boots I'd learned were the safest footwear in this exotic new climate, and clumping my way down to the ground. The jungle tinted everything with a rich shine, and there was the suggestion of movement everywhere -- animals furred and scaled, winged and clawed, a hundred thousand insects on the wing making the air hum-- and as I wound my way to Elua's temple I kept my eyes open for anything that might be dangerous.
The temple, too, had changed, the pale wooden walls erected by the building crew having changed into weathered latticed teak, and the vines that hung down over the arched entrance were no longer hibiscus but the fragrant jasmine. My gifts from the island had transformed themselves into plants I could barely recognize, leaves as large as my head, flowers I could almost drown in. Vines leapt from wall to tree to sky, and only the anemones and Elua's benevolent face told the tale of the temple's true purpose.
At the arch I shucked the boots and entered barefoot, stepping on thick moss and grass softer than the finest Akkadian carpet. Once there I breathed relief, taking a candle and the plastic firestarter from the waterproof box inside the gate and lighting my way, touching the flame to all the little lanterns dotting the path to Elua's feet. It was only as I got very close that I saw one of the shadows move, and I froze, instantly thinking what sorts of beasts might have made their way in; but then the shadow split in two, and the light fell on Hyacinthe's face, and it was all I could do not to drop the candle from my suddenly nerveless fingers.