  Hastily provided explanations over breakfast
appeared to do little in convincing Saffron, yet they went some way towards
relieving Philip of at least some of the associated guilt. Her knowing smiles
were more disconcerting. As were the fleeting touch of hands as they reached
for the same piece of toast, or the accidental brushing of her foot against
his leg under the cramped confines of his tiny kitchen table. Or the way
her eyes coyly peaked from beneath her scarlet fringe whenever she looked
at him, or how her fingers played and lingered around her mouth when she
spoke, or the way her tongue was always visible when she smiled, its tip
teasing the edge of her teeth. Each seemingly unintentional action was
accompanied by that knowing smile. Philip silently cursed to himself, he
doubted there was a man alive who could correctly interpret female signals,
'Am I seeing what I wanted to see or being blunderingly
obtuse to the obvious? Why can't we be more open, more blunt, more direct?
Why are there always games to play and rituals to dance? He smiled
back. She smiled back at his smiling back. And?
…what does that mean? How many faces had been slapped or friendships
shattered by a man's ineptness in these rites? He frowned and
returned to spreading butter on his toast.
'What's up?' She inquired
on seeing his perplexed expression.
'That-a-away.' He replied
in total dead-pan, gesturing with a butter-loaded knife towards the ceiling,
a pat of butter falling from the warmed knife onto his knuckle, which he
absently licked off before continuing with the chore of layering more butter
onto his already generously covered bread. She chuckled as she reached out
and scooped a missed knob of butter from the back of his hand with her index
finger. He looked at her, watching as she popped it into her mouth to be
sucked clean in either the most salacious way he had ever seen or the most
innocent. He instantly wished he was that finger, or that mouth, then scolded
himself for the thought. She removed the finger with an obscenely wet kissing
sound that created a movement his loins that he would not be able to explain
away as the safety mechanism of an over-full bladder. A movement that threatened
to produce a tenting in his dressing gown that the table's edge would fail
to hide. He tried to ignore his thoughts as he took a bite out of the
toast.
'Now I'm all wet.' She pouted
in a put-on childish tone, wiping her finger on the lapel of her borrowed
dressing gown, inadvertently revealing a youthful breast crowned with an
exceptionally awake nipple. Once again he tried to shift his thoughts elsewhere
while uncomfortably crossing his legs. A singlularily awkward movement that
slid his foot up round the soft curve of her calf and into the tender crook
at the back of her knee and simultaneously smacked his own knee into the
hidden cross-brace on the underside of the table. He grimaced as the reflex
knee-jerk stubbed his toe into the hard edge of her chair. Before he had
chance to rearrange his clothing, she had ducked down below the table to
see what the commotion was about. There was a gasp and a thump that shook
the table as she cracked her head against its underside. Slowly she righted
herself, her brow furrowed and a seriously wicked grin on her face as wide
as Tuesday. 'Randy little fucker aren't you?'
He squirmed, trying for all the world to pretend that nothing had happened.
'Do you ever go down?' She smirked, rubbing
the back of her head. He coughed, almost choking, uncertain whether the remark
was a retort or an innuendo, and gulped down a mouthful of half chewed
toast.
'Er, um, it's not what you think.'
Liar, he chastised himself, it's exactly
what she thinks it is! 'How's your head?' He asked, trying to
change the subject.
'Oh, no complaints so
far...'
 …so,
what now my son? A rhetorical question, the Shadow knew the answer and it
knew the Sun would not give it. It would continue in its arc, rising higher
in the sky as it journeyed to the west, a gentle deception on a tilted and
spinning world that beguiled mankind for millions of cycles…
 The cat felt the ever increasing
pull of sleep as tired muscles moved aching bones through the city. Each
pad-fall on the relentless flag-stones jolted pain into its joints. Its head
hung low as it fought to keep its eyes open. It could go no further, it needed
to sleep and would happily do it here, now. The cat stopped and sat down,
giving a weak cry as the Sphinx continued to walk on. After a few strides,
the glowing figure stopped and turned round, then walked back to where the
cat had given up. The Sphinx crouched down and gently stroked the cat, her
long slender fingers rubbing the fur at the back of its head and around its
ears. The cat had no choice but to purr, an innate reaction that the cat
could no more control than a baby its giggles at being tickled.
'~ sorry ~ ' the cats thoughts were drowsy, clipping
the margins between sleeping and waking '~ I ~ can't ~', but as the Sphinx
continued to stroke, energy flowed from her aura into the cat, soothing the
pain and easing the aches. The cat purred louder, rubbing its head against
her hand. Then gently she picked up the cat, craddling it in her arms and
tenderly placed a kiss on the top of its head.
'No, my apologies, it is my
fault.' She cooed, emanating heart-felt love to the cat.
'It has been so long since I was flesh, I forget that
these primitive bodies tire so quickly. And yours is so much smaller, but
then it must take less energy to sustain it'
'Something like that. It's our carnivorous diet - high
protean so we do not have to eat continuously. But it does mean we sleep
a lot.'
'That must be why I feel
hunger.' She raised her head, jerking it in different directions,
sniffing the air. 'Where shall we hunt?'
'We could try a restaurant.' The Sphinx made a noise
approximating to a laugh as she stood up, still carrying the cat. They did
not have to travelled far before they found a suitable café down a
narrow side-street off the main high road. Soon they were seated on a hard,
red vinyl covered, bench-seat at a chipped wood-effect formica table layered
with a thin layer of grease that left swirling patterns when you touched
it. A stained and worn card that represented a menu was wedged between crusted
plastic sauce bottles in red and brown, surrounded by chrome topped glass
bottles of salt, pepper and sugar. They studied the menu while waiting for
the waitress to approach. When she finally arrived, the cat was disappointed
not to see a half-burnt cigarette drooping from crudely painted lips and
a broken ball-point pen tucked into badly tied-back hair, still, the soiled
apron that served as a uniform did not inspire cleanliness. The waitress
appeared not to notice anything unusual about a glowing naked woman and a
cat, but simply raised an eye-brow and stood with pen poised over her tattered
note-pad, waiting for their order. The Sphinx gave hers first, a bowl of
muesli, an orange juice and a large black coffee, and then turned to the
cat. As the cat thought, she instantaneously spoke the words to the
waitress.
'Fish, lightly grilled, no butter
and bottled spring water, the non-fizzy one - Oh, in a bowl.' The
waitress raised both eye-brows.
'Kippers, we've only got kippers.'
'Then kippers it is then. Thank
you.' She went to pass the menu to the waitress, who had already turned
and walked towards the kitchen, then placed it back between the two sauce
bottles. 'Spring water? A little refined for a cat
is it not?'
'Just a precaution, would you drink the tap-water
in this dump?'
'Fair point, however, I thought you would have a saucer
of milk.'
'Nah, that's a fallacy, actually we can't digest lactic
acid, we don't produce the necessary enzymes or something. Anyway, it makes
me yak.'
'…And butter?'
'Yak.'
'…And Yak's milk?'
'Oh-hardy-har-har! Anyway. Muesli? Ha! Rat-food! Wait
'till they hear about this back in the Realm. Eek-eek, look at me I'm a sphinx,
eek-eek!' The cat chuckled to itself, shaking its head from side to side.
The Sphinx scowled at the cat.
'I am a vegetarian by choice, not
that I have not eaten meat. I am easily capable of killing, and not just
animals smaller than myself,' she looked down on the cat,
'unlike others I could mention.' She lent towards
the cat, emphasising the height difference between them and grinning as to
bare her teeth, revealing long sharp canines that the cat had failed to notice
before. The cat cowered.
'Okay, okay, I get the message. I won't say another word.
You've made your point, now back off and give me some light down here.' The
cat wriggled, trying to create some more room for itself. She lent back and
tenderly stroked it between its ears, then patted it on the head as the waitress
deposited their food and drinks on the table, together with a scrap of paper
meant as the bill. 'And how are we going to pay for this?' Thought the cat.
'There is no charge.' The
Sphinx replied.
'Huh? There's no charge.' Repeated the waitress, picking
up the bill and scrunching it in her hand.
'Wow, Cool!' the cat exclaimed in wide-eyed disbelief.
'Woh, Kule!' The Sphinx mimiced,
not quite matching the inflection. 'How twentieth century.'
'Well, I never had you pegged as sarcastic.' The
cat mumbled as it peered over the edge of the table at the steaming golden
fish on the plate, framed by a knife and fork. It almost leapt onto the table
to devour the food, but thought better of it. It looked at its fore-paws
and then to the cutlery and shook its head. It raise a paw and considered
hooking the fish off the plate, then decided that that would be chastised
too. So it sat back and looked at the Sphinx.
'You are dribbling.'
'I'm not dribbling. I'm drooling. I'm hungry.'
'I thought only dogs drooled.'
The cat responded by thinking a fair approximation to a bark and raised its
paw again, like it has seen countless dumb dogs do, which caused the Sphinx
to smile. Swiftly, she diced the fish and placed the plate on the bench beside
the cat. As they ate and chewed they continued to talk, something that is
not politely possible by verbal communication alone. At some point the cat
realised it did not know what the Sphinx was called, never having opportunity
to converse with it before, it was always refered to as The Sphinx,
and usually in hushed reverent tones with that odd
head-turned-one-way-eyes-looking-the-other gesture that is used when passing
on a secret.
'What's your name anyway?' it thought, as nonchalantly
as it knew how. The Sphinx laughed, in thought and out loud, causing several
heads to swivel round to look in their direction, then it told the cat that
it already knew and that there was nothing to be gained in the telling. The
cat went quiet for a moment as it tried to remember, then shook its head.
After much goading the Sphinx promised to tell if the cat went first. The
cat looked as embarrassed as a cat can get. 'Cat-name, or', the cat almost
growled the next bit, 'what the apes call me?'. The Sphinx took a deep breath
through her nose, as if pondering the question.
'Umm, Human name first I
think.' Ratshit! thought the cat to itself.
'I heard that.' the Sphinx grinned.
'Oh Sweet Bast, this is so-o-o embarrassing.' The Sphinx
was struggling to suppress a giggle, the cat scowled at the Sphinx, She
knows!, then it took a mental big breath and blurted 'Tiddles!' The Sphinx
surrendered to a fit of giggles. The cat waited, sulking. 'Finished?' She
nodded, trying to compose herself and then shook her head as the giggles
overcame her again.
'Humorous bastards are they
not.' She joked through fits pf giggles.
'Once that's all, just once. I was just a kitten, that's
all. I didn't know you weren't to piss in their dens, but I didn't know were
else to go.' The Sphinx made sympathetic cooing noises, stroking the cats
head. 'I got a generous dose of ginger up my snout for that - couldn't smell
a bloody thing for weeks!'
'So, what is your cat-name
then?' The cat slumped and shook its head. 'Oh
please, I will not laugh again.' She implored, tickling the sensitive
fur under its chin. The cat reluctantly gave a series of low growls and mews,
finishing with a flick of its tail that she instantly translated into Human.
She burst into spontaneous uncontrolled laughter.
'Lard-arse!' She almost screamed through her
laughter, so that a couple dressed in work-a-day clothes on the next table
turned and threw her an admonishing look over their shoulders before returning
to their breakfast.
'L'Darce' the cat indignantly corrected. She finally
reclaimed her self-control and apologised to the cat, who was now in a deeper
sulk. They ate in silence for a while, the cat pawing at the fish more than
eating it. Eventually it looked up and asked. 'We've had a good laugh at
my names, so what so special about yours'?' The Sphinx's thoughts dropped
to a whisper, as if to guard against eaves-droppers.
'To Humans I have many names, as
many names as there are stars in a night sky, and as many as the grains of
sand on a beach. To some I am the cycle of seasons. To others the cycle of
life. I am known as Isis, Asarte, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inanna,'
She paused, waiting for the cat to process the name-list, allowing each title
to slowly sink in. She faced the cat and fixed her golden eyes on the cat's
amber eyes. 'and Diana.' The cats wide eyes
went wider still and its jaw dropped.
'Oh Sweet Bast!' There was near terror mixed with total
awe in its thought.
…the Shadow was beginning to sublimate, blending
the boundaries between the Waking Lands and The Darqlands, as it picked up
the faint unguarded cry from the cat. Unable to halt the transmutation between
realities, it slipped into the Darqlands cursing, knowing it had missed the
Sphinx once
again…
'Yes my
child?' |
 |
