Chapter Eighty
I grabbed Willow by the arm just as she walked underneath the archway to the Vaydem Arboretum. She gasped in shock, because she didn’t notice me sitting there. I gestured for her to be quiet. Then, I pointed toward the high ceiling so she could see why I wanted her to keep the noise down. Willow immediately covered her mouth in surprise.
I had been sitting on the couch watching Ember float up toward the ceiling, probably lost inside some new fantastic dreamscape. The music seemed to float right along with her. It reminded me of something wonderful although I couldn’t quite figure out exactly what that ‘something’ was.
“How long has she been suspended like that?” Willow whispered the words so softly that they were barely audible as she sat down beside me.
“Wow, Florida, I’m proud of you. Usually you’d be screamin’ for a mile high ladder or yelling for her to get down off the ceiling…”
“You’d usually be right, but tonight it’s just different. I’ve intruded into her mind enough. I just want her to have this – well, whatever it is. Besides, Celeste told me that glass is two feet thick. So unless Ember turns into liquid lava and melts the glass, I figured she’s probably safe enough…”
“Do you plan to explain your sudden decision to change careers on me?? After all, a humble man-servant should inform his queen before he goes rushing off to become a DJ/photographer,” Willow told me.
We sat silently and listened to the music. It seemed to rise and fall with the breeze inside the Arboretum walls. Although it did frighten me when I first entered the sacred forest and saw her floating around near the ceiling, something stopped me from reacting like I usually would.
When Ember’s fantasy fractured at the party because of Button-Boy, it shook me up. I felt her anguish and that made me experience double the pain. I felt both mine and hers. I don’t know what dream she is currently residing inside, but I couldn’t take it away from her. The risk of handing her that emotional devastation again was too great. I was still reeling just from the memory of it.
I hoped Willow would never ask me to define those moments, because I wouldn’t know where to begin. I have never been accused of being a poet or a romantic guy, but even the most gifted poet would be rendered speechless by most of it.
I walked over to my sleeping little girl and picked her up off the ground. I could see fresh tear tracks when I looked down at her.
My heart fractured slightly…