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Trouble to the Cadmeans
The room is warm and dry when I awake. From the intensity of the darkness I can tell that it is still very late into the night and we have not yet tipped into the achingly slow return to daylight. My first thought is that I thirst for water, and my second is that I am not alone in the room.
I twist beneath the sheets and raise my head from the pillow, only to discover that there is one corner of the room that appears darker than the rest. I can sense breathing rather than hear it and there is the slightest rustle of feathers. I reach out for the light and the essence of a deep feline growl drifts through the darkness.
"I can be seen, but not touched, when I enter a room I make it lighter" purrs a voice from across the room and I take the riddle to mean that my visitor would rather I not switch on the light.
She is crouching on all fours and I hear the pad of her paws as she approaches the bed. There is the sensation that she could expand instantly and fill the room if she wanted to and I realise that there are enormous angellic wings on her back folded underneath each other.
"The more I take of them, the more I leave behind me" she whispers and her front paws take the next few steps up and onto the end of the bed. For a chimera she weighs surprisingly little. With a few more steps her paws have pinned the blanket around me into the mattress and her body is held inches above mine, radiating warmth. I feel the slither of her tail as it snakes over my legs.
"I am as light as a feather, yet no man can hold me for long" she advises me and I stop holding my breath. I've never been courted by a mythical creature before and I find myself fascinated by her silhouette, unable to make out distinct features in the darkness. I reach up and run one hand along the soft downy fur of her underbelly. I am reminded of leaning over the barriers in the British museum and touching the big cats who stand stationery, looking through mournful glass eyes, only this fur is warmer and less brittle to the touch.
"I am often returned, but never borrowed" she says as thanks and raises one paw. Razor sharp claw extended, she draws it down my body, sheering the blanket cleanly in two with a surgeon's precision without leaving a scratch on me. Her body presses down onto mine, in the hot dark room wings beat once with excitement before she shudders and we entwine on the bed.
"If you have me you want to share me, if you share me you won't have me" she warns and I promise not to tell.
Jan.31.2007