Fears

Katherine had not thought to ask what it was like to share a bed. Although Flora had told her many things and she herself had asked more, that had not come up at all in their conversation. It was something that she should have asked about.

Not that it was a bad thing. She drew gentle fingers over Ezekiel’s temple, smoothing his hair back from his face as he slept. His breathing was soft and even, his handsome face serene, and she smiled as she watched him sleep. Having him with her under the covers beside her, warm and comforting, was a good thing. What they did before they had fallen asleep was a very good thing. She felt her cheeks color and closed her eyes for a moment in reverie before opening them again, a soft smile on her lips.

But she had been surprised to find that the movements of another person beside her could wake her. Not all the time, but on nights were her mind was restless and refused to settle, Ezekiel shifting beside her had drawn her from her light sleep. It wasn’t completely a new thing to her. The maids had always woken her up, trying to move softly around her room to lay out her clothes, but she acknowledged them only drowsily, dozing until they properly woke her for breakfast. Waking to someone beside her, someone that fascinated and enthralled her was something different. And wonderful. Even in the darkest part of the night, his face near to hers was an intrigue that she couldn’t ignore. In time she knew that she would get used to his movements, not need to watch his peaceful sleep, would sleep a deep sleep of her own no matter what he did beside her.

But not now and not tonight. Her lips twisted briefly with wry amusement. After tomorrow night and the morning, if they survived, she was fairly certain that she would be so tired that nothing would wake her until late the next morning. She snuggled her head into her pillow, closing her eyes again, and let her mind wander back to what had kept her from sleeping this night. The vision that they had shared flashed dark and cold into her mind, the machine and the face in the moon. But aside from the initial terror of the vision, Ezekiel’s assurances that it was from the Host had calmed her. They would not send things to harm her, only to warn her. In time, the vision would have better meaning or she and Ezekiel would know what to do to keep it from happening. But she was at peace with the dream and did not dread more if the Host felt that she could continue to share the visions with Ezekiel.

Ezekiel sighed in his sleep and turned towards her, his eyes moving behind the lids. A tiny smile played briefly on his lips and she fought the urge to kiss him again, aware that he was deep in what seemed to be a pleasant dream. It had been another dream tonight that had awakened her, starting her from her sleep with a soft gasp. Not the face of a lost soul whose body had been torn apart to create an evil portal, not a vision of Hell itself in loose in London, but a terror of her own come to fruition. She had fallen, fallen from on high and come hard to earth.

Her legs had been weak as she had lifted from the ground in the flying machine, her fear of heights quickly asserting itself in nerves jangling and a stomach upset with where it found itself. Ezekiel had been a small figure on the ground, not the warm arms and hands holding her in the balloon basket. She had flown from curiosity and excitement, the bright enthusiasm in Ezekiel’s eyes too much to ignore, her own adventurous spirit overcoming her deep-seated fear. But once in the air, she could only think what it would be like to fall, her fear of heights burning in her mind.

And fall she had, out of control, plummeting to ground as if the sky knew that she did not belong there. She had fortunately managed to guide herself into the river. Drowning was preferable to falling. She had long ago overcome the terror of drowning. Bertie had cured her of that. A brilliant swimmer, he had often fled from her by swimming the river near her father’s home until the day she had flung herself in after him, convinced that if he could swim, then she could also. She remembered her nanny’s scream as she had begun to flounder, not certain as to what to do to move fishlike through the water like Bertie, not capable of fighting the suction of her petticoats and clothing as the water soaked them and started dragging her down. At the time, she remembered only being angry, that Bertie would again get away, and that she would die hearing the screeches and screams of Nanny Jane as the woman ran up and down the shore. It had almost been a relief when the water closed over her head.

Bertie had hoisted her up and brought her to shore, beaming as he received praises and candy and she herself a tongue-lashing from both the nanny and later her father. Swimming lessons were quietly and quickly arranged and the subject glossed over. But the experiences and the lessons had served her well; she had not panicked and grabbed Ezekiel as he had reached her in the river, fighting to swim even as the double anchors of her dress and the metal flying machine had fought to take her to the river bottom. Drenched but alive and a bit sore and bruised, the mishap had been a delightful reason for Ezekiel to help strip her of her wet clothes and warm her up in the privacy of their wagon.

She had fallen tonight in her dreams, fallen helplessly screaming to an earth where there was nothing to break her fall but the ground and rocks and the machine on her back. But before she had dreamed that she had fallen, she had dreamed that she rode her dragon Jayshree among the clouds. The little Frendal dragon was much too tiny, but the idea was already born in her mind. Ezekiel and Josephine could fly with machines. She would get a wyvern.

Moving gently, she wiggled until her backside touched Ezekiel, her eyes finally getting heavy and her thoughts becoming muzzy. She wanted the comfort of his body, but not to constrict him or herself during their sleep. Maybe she would name him Morris. That was a good wyvern name. She had no place to keep a wyvern though. But she was certain that Ezekiel would let her have one.

As sleep overtook her, she gave a happy sigh. Morris would take her to the clouds and he wouldn’t let her fall. And that way, she could fly with Ezekiel.

Neecy would never approve.

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