Two Of A Kind
Part 13
by Rosemarie Hauer


THE JOURNEY HOME

"While we walk, keep your attention directed at my heels," Vincent had instructed her before they had set out. "It will make walking behind me easier for you. I will warn you of possible dangers overhead. You won't stumble or hit your feet on anything, as long as you are able to maintain your concentration."

Miraculously she had found that to be true. As long as she kept her thoughts to a minimum and her gaze riveted on the backs of Vincent's boots, she was able to trail behind him quite effortlessly. But after some time Catherine couldn't keep her mind from wandering.

From what Vincent had told her, she knew that they wouldn't be able to make it back home within one day. Due to her lesser strength and perseverance they would have to camp once more. Vincent had also warned her that the campsite ahead of them would not be as comfortable as the one they had just left. No water, no wood for a fire. Now she was grateful for the small gas burner Jamie had put in her pack. She would never have thought of something like that. But then, she hadn't known anything about the darkness and the cold that ruled beyond the relatively cozy and comfortable home chambers, either.

Memories of her awakening to complete darkness chased a shiver down her spine and, sure enough, she lost her concentration and slipped on the polished surface of a flat stone embedded in the ground. She would have fallen, if not for Vincent's quick reaction.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, embarrassment tingeing her cheeks. "I will pay closer attention from now on."

"There's no reason to be ashamed of missing your footing," he consoled. "Please let me know if you need to rest."

"I will," she promised and resolutely returned his probing gaze.

"Shall I carry your pack for you?" he asked solicitously.

"You're carrying most of my pack already," she returned with a wry smile.

Traveling underground was indescribably draining, and when they finally reached the place where they would spend the night, Catherine could feel every muscle and bone of her exhausted body. While Vincent helped her to shrug out of her backpack, she scanned the area where they would set up their camp. It was a small cave compared to the vast cavern by the river, but the floor was even and smooth.

Before Vincent set to building their camp, he showed her everything she had to know about this place. The cave had three exits, one of which led to a small rivulet, that trickled rather than ran down the rock wall outside the chamber. "This is no drinking water," Vincent had warned her, "but if we put a bowl below it, we'll have water for washing."

Although the air in the cave was cold, Catherine was grateful for the coolness of the wet cloth with which she washed her face and neck. She felt dirty and would have given much for a bath, even if it were as cold as the one in the river this morning. With a weary sigh she dried her face and hands, picked up her lantern, and returned to Vincent. Her sleeping bag had been rolled out already, and she noted with surprise that he had spread his pallet and blankets right beside it.

"We will have to keep each other warm," he explained shyly, his face hidden behind the heavy curtain of his hair. "Without a fire it will be too cold for you to sleep alone."

Trying hard not to look too pleased, she just nodded her understanding and dropped down on the bedding he had prepared.

"I'm not hungry," she said as he handed her supper. At his admonishing look she added, "All right, I'm going to need my strength," and took the plate from him. After a few bites she found that she was actually quite hungry. Looking up from her meal, she encountered Vincent's fond and amused gaze as he watched her dig into the food. When she had finished her meal, she scrambled to her feet in order to clean her plate and store it away, but he took it from her hands.

"I'll do that," he insisted. "You'd better get ready for bed now."

"Sounds good," she teased playfully, but when he quickly dropped his eyes, she wanted to bite her tongue. She should have known better how difficult it would be for him to sleep so close to her. Squatting down beside him where he knelt and cleaned the dishes, she put a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm not planning to make this any harder for you, Vincent," she promised, and he tilted his head to meet her solemn eyes.

"I know that," he replied quietly, before he returned to the task at hand.

Vincent took his time washing up and changing his clothes. He checked and refilled the lanterns meticulously, hoping that Catherine was tired enough to fall asleep before he would be done with his preparations. When at last he walked over to their bed, he sighed with relief at the sight of her relaxed form. She was lying on her back, her breathing deep and regular. Shedding his boots, sweater, and vest, he slid under the blankets. She had not zipped her sleeping bag in order to leave room for him to lie beside her, giving her his body warmth as she would give him hers. He shivered at the thought of touching her, but then he inhaled deeply and inched closer, gingerly nestling against her. As much as he had feared that sleep would desert him, it claimed him rather quickly in fact.

Some time later, he awoke as he felt Catherine turn in his arms, but her slow, even breathing soon lulled him to sleep again.

Paracelsus?" Vincent asked hesitantly, when there was nothing but tiny points of light around him and a low voice in his head.

"What do you want?" the voice asked listlessly.

"I came to you to find out what you want from us," Vincent pointed out.

"Get out of here. Go back to your Father. You're wasting my time," came the derisive reply.

"I need to know what you plan," Vincent demanded.

"You are not a part of my plans, dear Vincent," the deep voice informed him detachedly.

"What about the child?"

"Ah, yes, the child. Your child, Vincent, has inherited none of your finer qualities. She is useless. You may keep her. It's a shame that Father's education spoiled you for my purposes. You contained a great deal of promise when you were little. What a waste! Listen closely now, Vincent. I no longer want your precious world, your muddy hole in the ground. You are a bunch of fools. What would I want with you? I will rule the real world. I have something that will get me all the soldiers I need for my army. I will make them happy as I could have made you happy, poor Vincent. Look at you, you are not even man enough to take what you already have. I despise you. Go. Go! Leave me alone."

The voice reverberated through Vincent's drowsy mind, leaving him shaken and disoriented.

"Not even man enough...to take...what you already have...already have...."

The points of light receded when the voice died away, and the returning darkness left him with an urgent hunger for touch. The body against his was warm and soft, and he pressed closer to feel its contours and shapes. With shaking fingers he traced a shoulder, a hip, a leg, all the while inhaling deeply of the fragrance that was so much a part of her.

Catherine.

In one quick motion he rolled out from under the blankets and leapt to his feet. His skin was burning, and he wished he could submerge himself in a pool of clear, cold water. Not only to cool his boiling blood, but to cleanse his shrouded soul as well. Frantically ripping his shirt from his body, he welcomed the chill of the air that met his heated skin. Panting heavily, he found himself leaning against the rough, damp wall of the tunnel outside the cave where Catherine slept.

Slowly, sanity settled about him again, reminding him that his body was not indestructible. His fingers hurt from trying to claw into unyielding stone, and he became aware that he was freezing.

Shaking his head free from the last shreds of the dream, he made his way back to the campsite and slid under the covers beside Catherine once more. He tried to remember the contents of his dream, to think of the words he had heard. He had a vague feeling that they were important. But in the comforting warmth of Catherine's nearness he gradually relaxed, and sleep claimed him again.