Saira - TI5 (2 page)

"Ladies and gentlemen, please sit quietly while we figure out what has gone wrong here," she said. "Let's hope we can get to the bottom of this quickly."

She walked back to the other costumed figures who obviously were having a serious discussion. A few nods later, the apparition returned to the edge of the stage.

"I think we know what happened. Apparently the Illusionist has managed to escape from the sarcophagus. The only thing left is to figure out where she is. Can anyone tell us if they saw anything unusual?"

"Yeah, the whole damn show!" a man yelled from one of the back rows.

"We didn't see anything," a woman said near the front.

Others nodded their heads in agreement.

"I was afraid of that," the apparition replied, almost soulfully. "Since no one out there can help us, I guess there's nothing left to do but solve this myself."

Reaching above her head, the ghostly figure pulled off the white wig, exposing long, raven black hair. She then peeled a thin layer of pasty white latex from her face and removed the red eye contacts. The audience gasped; before them stood the Illusionist.

"Where'd you come from?" one of the men who had previously inspected the coffin asked.

Yemaya walked over to him and whispered in his ear. A bright red flush crept up his neck and into his cheeks. Laughing softly, she leaned down and planted a light kiss on his left cheek, ruffled his hair, and patted his back. Grinning sheepishly, he scurried back to his seat and quickly sat down, unable to make eye contact with her or his immediate neighbors.

"What did you say to him?" another voice yelled.

"I merely answered his question," Yemaya replied, giving the audience a wink. "I guess he wasn't expecting it to be quite so explicit."

The audience laughed as vivid imaginations pictured what she must have told him. After several moments, Yemaya held up her hand and signaled for everyone to settle down.

"Ladies and gentlemen. Tonight you have experienced an illusion, nothing more. You may think it was something more, but I can assure you, there's always a logical explanation behind everything I do. My job is to create and perform these illusions for your entertainment, and your job is to figure out how it was done.

"As always, I recommend that no one try any of these stunts and particularly this one. It's extremely dangerous and can result in a serious injury or even death if anything were to go wrong. My crew is made up of professionals who have worked together for many years. If it weren't for them, I would have been permanently retired a long time ago — and I do mean permanently."

The audience laughed when she made a face while emphasizing the word "permanently" with the symbolic gesture of slicing her throat.

"Once again, I thank you for taking the time to attend tonight's show. It's always an honor and a pleasure to bring you a little relief from the stresses of everyday life. All I ask in return is that you be safe on your way home and kind to the living. The dead will take care of themselves."

Waving good-bye and walking off the stage, the Illusionist stopped next to the curtain and smiled at a young, blonde woman who was frantically writing in a small notepad. Yemaya knelt down and remained in that position for several seconds. Apparently curious, the audience sat quietly, waiting to see what followed.

*
 
*
 
*

At last,
Dakota thought, unaware of the silence around her.
A pen that works. You're a keeper.

As though she had jinxed it by the thought, the pen skipped. She shook it and tried again, whereupon it stopped writing completely. Shaking it more vigorously, Dakota muttered a few swear words, stuck the tip in her mouth, and sucked hard.

Slowly, an eerie silence nudged aside the frustration. Aware that something wasn't quite right, Dakota looked up, her lips puckered and cheeks drawn inward. She discovered everyone staring curiously at her.

Blushing, she quickly glanced toward the stage. Pale blue eyes stared unblinkingly at her. The glint of humor and slight smirk on Yemaya's face made her even more aware of the pen stuck in her mouth and how comical she must look.

"Sheeyit." She yanked the pen away from her lips and stuffed it in her small handbag. Several chuckles near her made it obvious she had been overheard. Glaring at the offenders instantly silenced them. Turning toward Yemaya, she grinned sheepishly and shrugged.

This is getting annoying,
she thought resignedly.

Laughing, Yemaya stood up and strolled backstage without speaking. Her expression, though, said everything.

*  *  *

"You had to do it." Dakota reached into her bag for the offending pen. "You just had to stop like all the others. What is this? A conspiracy?" Disgusted, she tossed it back into her handbag and headed toward the backstage entrance. Several crew members stopped her to say hi and share their latest gossip. After patiently listening to each one, Dakota walked to Yemaya's dressing room and lightly tapped on the door.

"Come in," a husky voice said. Dakota could feel a faint shiver travel down her spine, an automatic response to that sensual, low pitch.

"Damn," she muttered, rubbing her arms absentmindedly.

She opened the door and peeked inside. Yemaya sat on a long couch, her legs propped across its arm and dangling. Although she looked relaxed, Dakota could tell something was bothering her.

"What's up?" she asked, moving quickly to kneel next to her lover and give her a quick kiss on the lips.

Yemaya frowned, unsure if even she knew. The show had gone as planned. Well, almost. After the lid had been lowered onto the concrete coffin, she remembered nothing. With the darkness of being entombed came the blackness of unconsciousness. Minutes later, she found herself in her apparition costume, walking onstage as if nothing had happened. The escape was a mystery. Not wanting to upset Dakota, she smiled and reached up to ruffle her blonde hair.

"Nothing. I'm just a little tired. This show was more exhausting than normal for some reason."

"I can imagine. One of these days I'm going to figure out how you disappear and reappear like you do. I think there's more to your illusions than
illusions
."

"I've never denied it, but no one's going to believe me when I say I'm an alien from another planet. Besides, sometimes I even surprise myself."

"Yeah. Right. And I'm Princess Leia."

"Princess Leia?"

"You know... Star Wars."

"I never saw the movie, but I know who you mean. Carrie Fisher."

"Carrie? Geez. You sure know how to take the mystique out of things. Where's your sense of wonder?"

Raising one eyebrow, Yemaya gave Dakota "the look."

"Cut it out," Dakota said. "Save that for your groupies."

Yemaya stood up and gave Dakota a warm hug.

"Busted. How about we get out of here? The crew will clean up. I think I could use a good night's sleep."

Dakota wrapped her arm around Yemaya's waist, sensing something was bothering her but not wanting to press for an answer.

S
AIRA NEVER KNEW exactly what attracted her to the essence of another. First came the tug from some unknown source, and then she felt herself drawn toward someone with unique traits. Whether they were near, halfway around the world, or worlds apart made no difference. If the calling was strong, it was compelling.

Today she was observing a young Quebecoise in a small French-Canadian community called Outrement near Montreal. The woman's energies were high. It would be interesting to see where they took her, but for Saira that journey would have to wait.

A stronger force was pulling at her from the city of Baltimore in the United States. Because of her ability to travel through time and space, the journey was instantaneous. She arrived at her new destination at the very moment she left the old one.

The blackness could not conceal the woman's beauty or the darkness of the beast dwelling within her. For now it was caged in its lair, a prisoner to the will of its captor. She could feel it seething with a burning anger from frustration and knew it was only biding its time, waiting to break free of the barriers holding it captive. Its essence felt vaguely familiar, but Saira couldn't locate any tangible threads that would lead her to its source. That in itself was unusual.

So, this is part of the attraction,
she thought, reaching deep into the woman's mind to touch the darkness. Sensing the intruder, the beast backed away, growled angrily, and called to its mistress. The human shifted restlessly in the concrete tomb, her concentration broken by an uncomfortable feeling that she wasn't alone.

"You sense my presence, don't you?" Saira asked, more to herself than the human.

"I feel it." The person gave an unexpected reply. "Who are you?"

"All in good time, Illusionist. At the moment, though, I think you have more pressing matters. I've broken your concentration, and you have only moments to escape from this place. Are you able to do it now?"

"I have no choice," Yemaya gasped. Already her breathing was labored from the small amount of air left in the chamber.

Saira watched in silence as the woman took a few deep breaths before settling into a state of deep meditation. Her breathing and heartbeat gradually slowed. Saira felt Yemaya's consciousness slipping away. Time was no longer on her side. She was losing the battle.

"A valiant try, Illusionist, but I'm afraid you've lost this one and I can't let that happen. We'll meet another day."

*  *  *

She slowly withdrew from Yemaya's mind and waited a little longer, hoping against reason the mortal would save herself. Only after the lungs and heart stopped functioning did she intervene. Allowing Yemaya to die was unacceptable. Her death would forever alter the future, and the ramifications could be disastrous.

After quickly making the necessary correction, Saira abruptly departed. She would seek what she required later. An unexpected pull was drawing her to a new entity emerging from the nothingness. It would be her first contact with someone from the Netherworld.

*  *  *

Yemaya couldn't remember how she escaped from the sarcophagus. One moment, the lid was being lowered on the concrete coffin and the next she was standing offstage in her apparition costume, slightly disoriented. Her assistants appeared slightly panicky but quickly recovered their composure when she walked onstage. She could sense their relief when they realized she was okay. Now it was up to her to make sure the finale went as planned, even if the escape hadn't.

S
AIRA FOUND HERSELF in a realm she rarely visited, the Underworld. Most of the occupants were too much alike to be interesting. Her first journey had led her to its Underlord, Dis, but she could only trace him and his brother, the Twin, to a time just prior to the birth of light. They were members of the First Born. Although the two considered themselves the creators of everything, Saira knew better. She had existed long before their arrival but saw no reason to disillusion them or any of the others that believed themselves to be
the creator
.
Manipulators, maybe, she thought, but felt she was not obligated to enlighten or disillusion First Born. Saira sought answers, nothing more.

She made a second visit shortly after Lilith appeared in the Underworld. The human's uniqueness brought with her many questions, making her tug irresistible. Dis' role in her banishment from Eden only added to Saira's fascination for the woman. The Underlord had tricked Lilith into leaving the security of Paradise simply to annoy the Twin and satisfy his own infatuation and lust.

It had been an enlightening journey, but once Lilith was with child, Saira lost interest in her and the Underlord. Pregnant demons were bitchy whiners who wanted nothing more than to make everyone's life as miserable as their own. There was no reason to believe Lilith would be different.