Shredder XI
“You, but you’re,” Gerard started with beautiful stultification.
“Dead, yes,” the wonderful smile replied, “It’s difficult to explain.”
The crashing siege in his mind had been replaced by the hammering blows of his heart. The clearing where he had encamped for the night materialized around him as Gerard tried to swim free of the dream fugue.
“I’m awake,” he stated.
“Oh, indeed,” the Halfling woman replied, the double entendre of her tone lost on the groggy male before her.
“And you’re still here,” Gerard continued without pause.
“Not really, Gerard,” she replied, glancing in the direction of the shrouded corpses, “Our journeys have just taken new turns.”
Clarity seemed to wrench to the forefront of Gerard’s mind finally, and he shied backward a little from the figure before him. Her translucence became apparent as the dwindling firelight tickled the shadows both around and within her. Gerard turned his eyes to the wrapped bodies for a moment, before returning his gaze to the swimming depths of the lady’s own eyes.
“I’m so sorry—” his words halted as an odd realization came to him. She had never shared her name with him. Despite the hours they had talked, broken bread and journeyed, names had never been exchanged. Or if they had, he had forgotten them. No, hers he would not have forgotten.
“Names have power,” she offered to the unspoken line of thought.
“I’m more transparent than you,” Gerard blurted and immediately regretted, “That was crass, and uncalled for.”
“A bit of the first but not so much of the second,” she replied, and by way of moving beyond the ripple, she said, “You may call me Anibel if you wish.”