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Page 33.
24. Arena
 Jared sat exhaustedly on a stone wall overlooking the great round expanse of sand below—one of the arenas, the sands—overlooked by tens of thousands of seats now empty except for patchy, scudding moonlight amid rain squalls.
The sky was filled with oscillating searchlights. Aircraft with blinking lights moved this way and that. Distant explosions could be heard, unintelligible faint crowds screaming down in the city, and frequent rattles of gunfire.
Stella stood motionlessly. “I am in touch with Lelli.”
“What does she have to say?”
“Lyxa wants us to travel with her.”
Jared looked about, heartbroken. His city, his dreams, his everything:
Forever gone…
“What choice do we have?” He shrugged. “I want you to be safe. And there is nothing left for me here. Where is she going?”
“The Holy House is evacuating to Arcturus.”
Jared nodded. Of course. That had been the meaning of the servants moving luggage in the palace. They’d already been evacuating. Lyxa was always ahead of the game.
“Will we go?” Stella stood facing him.
He regarded her, overcome by her loyalty. She didn’t ask if he were going, or what he thought she should do. It was entirely up to him. She was his djia, his personal assistant, his demi-woman, his diaphane.
“Yes, we’ll go.”
“I am telling Lelli.” She paused to receive. “Lelli says Lyxa is glad.”
“Tell Lelli to tell Lyxa we are grateful.”
A moment passed. “Lyxa tells Lelli that you must carry the Torch for her.”
Jared looked out over the city, patting his palm absently on the heavy, lichenous rampart high up over Olympia House. “Tell her I will carry the Torch for her. Stay with me Stella so you’ll be safe. We have someplace to go.”
They made their way down into the arena, to cross the sand and emerge on public streets through a stone gate he could see dimly ahead.
Despite distant explosions and gunfire, here twilight shimmered in the stillness among stone pillars and metal girders. A cold, clean wind blowing around him as he realized sadly that the City of the Universe was swinging outward in its orbit toward winter. This would be eternal winter.
Phantom leaves brushed drily against the girders and drifted endlessly to come to rest at various elevations with the gentle tic of an egg shell breaking.
Jared squeezed Stella’s hand as they walked with assurance now, no longer running in terror for their lives. They felt night’s timeless caresses.
The wind was turning colder. A wind bringing this and that longing.
Memories…
He put one arm around her solid woman waist and pulled her closer. She pressed against him as they shared warmth in the brisk air.
His mind was far, far away…
Lethe…
Forgetfulness, a planet, a river, a crossing of eternal peace beyond reach from these trials…
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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