"Where are we going?"
"To the summerhouse."
"Summerhouse? Why?"
"You'll see when we get there."
"You're being very mysterious." He links his arm with mine and rests his head on my shoulder as we walk. I shake my arm free and wrap it around him, pulling him close to me.
It is a beautiful day, the sun is shining, on its way down and there is a cool breeze that ruffles our hair like the fingers of a lover. However, as soon as we step within the maze a chill falls on us, enough to make Star shiver and pull away from me.
"What's going on? Where are we going?"
He sounds anxious and I smile reassuringly. "It's hard to explain. Walk with me and I will try my best. Trust me, I will not lead you into danger."
"Alright." He is still anxious but he trusts me absolutely.
"It's not an easy thing to explain. This house is not in the world as you know it. It is outside of space and time. Think of a clock. Inside the clock there are cogs and wheels. Each wheel is a separate universe, each spoke of the wheel a different world. This house is a drop of oil on the axel of one of the wheels. The drop of oil can slide down one of the spokes and back again, it can grow or shrink, it can change its shape but it can't escape the wheel and there are many spokes that can only be accessed when the wheel turns, and then only from the other side. "
"I don't understand," he says, perplexed.
"I know and I'm not sure I understand myself. The wheel metaphor is an ancient one and perhaps, in time it will help you understand. For now all you need to know is that the house is as mutable as that drop of oil, it can slide up and down the spoke so I can step out anywhere I wish into your world, and sometimes, when the wheel turns, others can step into it."
"Alright," he says doubtfully. "I think I kind of understand but I'm way out of my depth."
"Wait until you see how much that drop of oil can be changed with just a flick of the hand. Before you came the suite where you live did not exist. I can make new wings, a new garden, completely remodel the inside and outside if I want. I can make it bigger, smaller... whatever. And, of course then there is the fact that it is alive. The house; the gardens are all part of one sentient whole. If you listen carefully enough you can hear its heart."
"You're kidding right?"
"Not at all. But that is for another time. Today is for something else entirely. I am taking you to meet someone."
He stops dead and turns to stare at me, shaking his head convulsively. "No."
"Is that not what you want? Do you not want to meet her?"
"I... Can you? Can you really take me to her?"
"At this time, yes. The wheel has turned and very, very soon it will turn again. But for a short time, yes I can take you to see Her."
"Astaria?"
"Yes."
"I'll get to see her?"
"Yes."
"And touch her?"
"Yes."
"And speak to her?"
"Yes."
"And she can speak to me."
"Yes, Star. Why don't we get moving again and you will see for yourself."
"Sorry, I just... it took me by surprise."
"Of course it did," I say mildly and guide him along the path. I can feel his tension grow as we get deeper and deeper into the maze. He is conflicted, that much I can tell. I can also tell they are conflicts he has to resolve for himself.
When we break out into the open before the summerhouse, I can feel his fear and doubt. I put my arm around him again and gently guide him towards the door. His eyes are wide as he takes in the wonder of the summerhouse and the sights and sounds of it distract him. Turning his head from side to side, he soaks up the roses and the grapes, the water, the trees.
I lead him through the glade to the river and, as he sets foot on the bridge, he looks up and gasps.
The light inside the summerhouse is always low, no matter what it might be like on the outside. Here, there is no outside. The oil lamps give their usual muted glow and illuminate the woman who is painting. Today, she is dressed in forest green, accentuating the glorious tumble of her red hair.
When she hears us approach, she looks up and lays down her brush. Smiling sweetly she steps towards us, her footfalls making no sound. She kisses me lightly on the cheek and then passes me. Taking Star's hands in hers she looks deeply into his stunned eyes.
"Oh my darling," she breathes. "I had no idea how beautiful you are." She caresses his cheek and he just stands there locked in shock. She fingers his soft hair and touches his full lips while he remains silent and still.
"You left me," he whispers at last. "You left me when I really needed you."
"No, darling, I never would have left you if you needed me; you needed to be alone. If I hadn't left you things wouldn't have been as they were; you wouldn't have found Luma and we wouldn't be here talking now. I knew it would be hard for you..."
At last he comes out of his stupor and his eyes flash. "Hard? They weren't hard, they were hell. Without you I had no one, no one. He... He never hurt me more than in that last year." He closes his eyes and shivers. "I was abandoned by everyone. My mother... you. I had no one."
His facade cracks and he begins to weep. Astaria takes him into her arms and, although he resists at first, he collapses against her. She cradles him against her breast (lucky bastard) and soothes him, stroking his hair.
"Hush now, child. The nightmare's over, as I promised it would be."
"Do you have any idea how close I came to killing myself?"
"Not as close as you think."
He looks up at her. "What do you mean?"
"How many times did you make the decision?" He looks thoughtful. "Every time, including the last time, something held you back... that something was me." He swallows hard, as he processes the information.
"We don't have much time, dear one. I have to go and there are a lot of things I want to share with you before I do."
"No. Don't go. Don't leave me again."
"You don't need me now, dear one. You've found your soul mate and you don't need me holding you back. Things are as they should be. Come... see..."
She takes him by the hand and leads him the rest of the way over the bridge and into the sitting area, until he is able to see the painting. His eyes fly wide and he gives a little cry. For a while he just stares and then he raises his eyes to mine, breathing hard.
"It... it's my painting, the one my father found, the one he broke."
Curious I hurry to join them and when I see the painting I am totally shocked. It is, as Star had said, beautiful; very, very beautiful. The figures almost fly at you out of the canvas. In the centre are two angels, naked with their wings arching gracefully over their heads and curving protectively around the two human figures who stand within their embrace.
The angels are looking at each other with the greatest love in their eyes and the two humans have their arms around the waist of their respective angel gazing at each other no less adoringly. The quality is astonishing, truly astonishing but the biggest shock, the greatest astonishment is not in the skill but in the content.
Each of the figures is easily recognisable. The angel on the left is Star and the human he is embracing is Sacha. The angel on the right is me with my arm and wing around Bridge.
I raise my eyes to Star and he shakes his head in disbelief. "I didn't know. When I painted it I didn't know and when I met you I had forgotten. I thought there was something... something familiar but there was so much going on, I..." He is breathless and I put my arm around him, feeling him shake.
"This has always been your destiny, Star. You were meant for Luma and he for you. Of course there was always the chance you wouldn't meet, you wouldn't fall for him; that you would be so angry with me you'd turn away. It wasn't as if you had no choice but still..."
"I never had a choice. From the moment you started to sing to me, when you were the only thing that kept me sane, that brought me through, what choice did I have? Yes, I was angry at the end. I'm angry with you now but not so angry I can't appreciate everything you did for me. And how can I be angry that you brought me here? As much as I fought against it I can see this is where I'm meant to be."
"I'm glad you feel that way." She takes Star's hand again. He is staring at the painting but when she draws him towards a low couch he follows and, as he sinks down, he begins to weep. Astaria wraps her arms around him and holds him close as he sobs. She looks at me over his head and we smile. I know this is his time and it is not for me to intervene, but still it is so good to see her, to be here in her presence, one more time.
Finally, she draws back and tilts his head up to look into her eyes. He blinks, through tears.
"Why so sad? I though you would be happy that we meet at last, even if only briefly.
"I am, of course I am. It's just..." He sniffs. "You're the closest thing to a mother I've ever known and I didn't think I'd ever feel your arms around me. It made me feel like a child and to remember all I missed."
"Don't look back, my sweet. The past is gone now and there is a bright future to be made."
