Lillith by Carol Buhler

Author:Carol Buhler [Buhler, Carol]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Carol Buhler
Published: 2019-04-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

~Lillith

A gentle touch on my shoulder brought my awareness to Lillyon, standing close. Resting my forehead on his, I whispered, "I don’t know what to think. Tallyon’s news is distressing. But what can I do?"

Lillyon wrapped his long neck around mine and matched my quiet voice. "Joedon must not have been receptive to Taldon’s arguments."

"I don’t know. He’s locked up tighter than a barrel of oats in the play room. I didn’t ask him what Taldon said." Reeth couldn’t cry. I wished I could. Crying seemed to sooth femm during times of stress. Slumping against Lillyon, I savored the length of him supporting me. "I just realized how estranged Joedon and I have become. We never used to lock our thoughts away from each other. What should I do?"

Lillyon’s words, soft but firm, provided a brace for me to lean on. "Confront him. Open the subject. Find out what he’s thinking. Dig, if you have to. Then decide. These muddled feelings stem from a lack of understanding which you have to correct before doing anything else."

Pulling myself upright, I squared my shoulders and clamped my wings hard to my side, settled with calm resolve. "You’re right. Apathy is for the don. I must force the issue."

I walked quietly down the corridor leading to Joedon’s part of the home; the doors opened automatically via electronics he’d stolen from humans and installed years ago. Stepping into the living area, purposefully arranged to accommodate reeth, I glanced around. Nothing had changed since the last time I’d been here; shocked, I realized that had been almost a year ago. Joedon always came out to join the rest of us for a meal; I rarely invaded his sanctuary anymore. When did I begin to feel unwelcome here?

I shook my head. No, that’s not right. He’s never made me feel unwelcome. I slumped with shame. I stopped coming.

Wandering further into the room, I studied the familiar furnishings. The hand-made leather couch and chair, a present from Joedon’s parents, were placed precisely along the edges of the colorful woven rug. The painting of the sun glinting off the Joe mansion’s white marble façade with the green spread of Center valley in the background had been gifted by Saradon’s family. And the Lill family had given us each several woven hangings, in a variety of grass greens and tans. Those on Joedon’s walls had been specially crafted for him by the artisans of Warren.

All of this reminds him of the days before their deaths. Maybe I should prompt him to redecorate.

I shrugged and sent out a thought, lightly touching Joedon’s mind. He was in his workshop again. "Joedon. I’m here in your living room. Would you please come out to talk." I hadn’t been in the workroom for years, pretty sure there wouldn’t be room for me.

He sounded surprised. "Give me a second. I’ll just cover this container and be right out."

Barefoot, he padded into the room, shirt draped negligently over one shoulder, pants hanging off slim hips.

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