Chained by Memory by Celine Jeanjean

Author:Celine Jeanjean [Jeanjean, Celine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Celine Jeanjean

I wake up with the morning light. It’s nice having sunrises and sunsets again. As nice as our short stint in the werecat realm was, I prefer this world. It takes me a few blinks to remember where I am. I turn over to be greeted by a smile from Sarroch.

“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing a hand over my eyes.

He pushes himself up and kisses me on the temple. “Good morning.”

I feel weirdly shy all of a sudden. Last night was pretty incredible. Very incredible.

“We need to get up,” he says. “Make sure we catch the plane to London.” He looks apologetic. “I’ve done a lot of thinking while you were sleeping, and our best bet to reach the underworld will be Charon, the ferryman across the River Styx. These days he’s based in London.”

I sit up at once, now feeling wide awake. “Absolutely. I’ll jump in the shower, throw some clothes on, and then I’ll be ready.”

I’m still feeling all warm and happy as we arrive at Paro Airport. But as we step out onto the airstrip, that warm happiness evaporates like piss hitting an overheated plane engine.

“No way. You have got to be bloody kidding me.” I turn to look at Sarroch, almost too incredulous for words.

The rust bucket is back. Or I should say is still here.

“You seriously expect me to fly all the way to London in that? No way, Sarroch. No way. I will stand by you while an evil hungry ghost takes you over like some kind of demented poltergeist, but I am not flying all the way to London in that death trap.”

Sarroch smiles. “It's only to go to Kathmandu. From there, we’ll take a commercial plane. A very modern Boeing – I checked, and they assured me that there are all kinds of digital screens in the cockpit. There are so few flights in and out of Paro, I couldn’t book us something where the timings work to catch our flight to London from Kathmandu.”

“A Boeing?” I ask suspiciously.

“A Boeing.”

“How many digital screens does it have?”

“Lots. And things that beep, and a radar. It’s a regular commercial flight.” As he speaks, Sarroch ushers me towards the plane, and I follow with all the reticence of a house cat being led to the bath. “And you'll be pleased to hear that I won't be piloting the Boeing, either. We will be sitting in regular seats, and I will make sure there’s champagne for takeoff. No luxury spared.”

“I bloody well hope so after I have to fly again in that thing.” My stomach is already cramping in anticipation of the ordeal that awaits.

As we reach the plane, I stop. “Can we make a deal? I help you sort out this hungry ghost thing, and you bring me back here? To Bhutan. I want to come back to Paro and get to know it better. And Bhutan in general. I think I would like it here.”

“Apiya, if we're able to get this sorted, you can have whatever you want and go wherever you want.

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