Jabberwocky - 13. Naani

XIII. Naani

Several nights later, Brandon was lying in bed at another inn and staring at the dark ceiling above them. Jordan was lying next to him, sleeping the deep, quiet sleep of a person who had just been thoroughly fucked. Brandon had been sleeping with him when another nightmare had jolted him awake. This time at least he was able to avoid waking his lover.

He sighed and crossed his arms over his face. It was a familiar nightmare, with an agonizing twist… it had been Jordan trapped in the bed with Rajar instead of himself. Brandon had woken up feeling nauseated and clammy, but he refused to move or do anything but lie there and pray for the memory to blur and fade quickly. The last thing he wanted was for Jordan to wake up and start asking him questions.

Brandon couldn’t ignore the way his unease kept growing and growing the closer they drew to Driamor. They were walking into the lion’s den with eyes wide open. And he worried incessantly about Jordan. He didn’t want Jordan in any danger. Didn’t want him anywhere close to Keith, or anywhere close to Rajar. Jordan didn’t even want to come here. He had come because Brandon had wanted to. Because Brandon had wanted to save Leia. And now because Brandon wanted to save Leia’s child. But Brandon didn’t want Jordan anywhere near this mission. He wanted him somewhere safe.

He leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss against Jordan’s temple. “I love you, baby. And I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Even if it means hurting you. Even if it means giving up everything. Whatever it takes, I’m going to make sure you see this through safely.”

Feeling better once his promise was made, even though no one had heard but himself, he lay back down, wrapped his body around Jordan’s, and waited for sleep again.

* * *

“No, like this,” Sumna said, rewrapping Brandon’s cloak around his thin shoulders. “You tie it first, then hook it. That keeps it shut more securely.”

They were in a small dwelling that Sumna and Jassa claimed was the meeting point with their contact from Driamor. It was empty inside the building, save for a few rickety chairs and various rodents and insects. Brandon felt okay with hearing the various cheeps and scratching and seeing them hovering near the corners of the room, but if anything scurried up his legs or across his foot, he was probably going to freak out and do something highly embarrassing.

“I thought you didn’t want us wearing anything from Odwayon into Driamor,” Jordan said from his spot near the door. Jassa was perched in a tree outside, but Jordan still preferred to keep watch as well. Two pairs of eyes were better than one.

“Well, I also don’t want your faces to be visible either. I think it’s more essential to keep you guys undercover than reveal the possibility that we are wearing an Odwayon garment. Besides, aside from the outer covering, there are no distinguishing marks, and Driamor is such a big city that I hardly think people will notice. Besides, if you really need to make sure you don’t stand out, just take the cloak off.” Sumna pulled Brandon’s cloak free with a flourish. “Reverse it,” Sumna said, twisting the cloak around, “and wear it with the unfinished side out.” She retied it around Brandon. “It won’t be as secure, because it is just tied and not hooked, but it’ll work in a pinch as long as it isn‘t raining or anything.”

Brandon took the cloak off and folded it back up, holding it in his lap as he sat down. The chair groaned alarmingly under his weight but held steady. His muscles were sore and tense underneath his clothes, but he couldn’t make himself relax. He didn’t like this at all. He understood the necessity of getting someone from the outside to smuggle them into Driamor, but placing their fate into the hands of someone they didn’t know unsettled him. Jassa and Sumna had sworn up and down that they trusted this person, but seeing as Brandon didn’t really trust either one of them, it didn’t do much to ease his worries.

“Who is this guy again?” Brandon asked, softly.

“Naani,” Sumna said. “He lives in Driamor and he is going to smuggle us inside.”

“No, I mean who is he? How do you know him?”

Sumna gave him a look of cautious curiosity. “I hope we’re not having a lack of trust here.”

“No,” Brandon replied simply. “Just curious.”

“Well, he is a psychic. He is the brother of the psychic that forged the tertiary bond between Jassa and me. We’ve stayed with him before.” Sumna lowered her voice. “I wouldn’t put us in the house of a dangerous man, you know that.”

“I know,” Brandon said.

“If you and Jordan want to strengthen your bond, he would be a good person to assist you through it.”

Brandon bit his lip thoughtfully. “What is it like?” he ventured.

“Interesting,” Sumna said. “Frightening. Amazing.” She smiled. “Incredible. Indescribable.”

“What does it involve?” Brandon asked.

“The procedure or a tertiary bond in general?” Sumna asked.

Brandon shrugged. “Both, I guess.”

“The procedure itself is pretty simple physically. You’ll need someone with psychic abilities to guide you through it, yourself and your Enabler. Your guide might have you drink or eat something before starting and you’ll need a couple hours of rest and together time. As for tertiary bonds, it’s not quite as scary as it sounds.”

“What exactly do they involve again?” Brandon asked.

“Tertiary bonds provide a lot of things that a secondary bond cannot. First of all, you and your Enabler will be able to achieve mind-to-mind communication. For example, if Jassa hears or sees something outside that is suspicious, she can relay that to me without saying a word or even moving a muscle. Along the same lines, if I wanted to let her know what we were talking about, I could open up that line of communication so that she could hear what we were talking about. But only if I wanted to.”

“Are you doing that now?” Brandon asked, feeling a little paranoia creep up.

Sumna shook her head. “No, we both want to be focused on what is going on outside and hearing our conversation would just distract her.”

Brandon could tell from Jordan’s still posture that he was distracted by the conversation going on behind him, but Brandon didn’t think Sumna needed to be aware of that if she wasn’t already.

“What else?”

Sumna thought. “Well, dreams and feelings are shared. Period. Certain thoughts are shared, too, but that’s a little easier to control.”

“Control?” Brandon asked. “Like how?”

“Mental shielding doesn’t disappear during tertiary bonding, but the way it functions does,” Sumna explained. “In secondary bonding, if you wanted to shield yourself from your partner, you would have to shield your entire mind. It is an all or nothing deal. When you have a tertiary bond, you cannot shield your entire mind. You just can’t. You can’t disengage or block your partner. What you can do is create a single shield for a single thought. Instead of one gigantic shield to cover an entire village, you have individual shields for certain houses.”

“So if you wanted to guard secret information from your Enabler, you could?” Brandon asked, wanting to make sure he understood.

“Well, yes and no,” Sumna said. “Certain thoughts can be shielded, of course. But the more mental value a thought has, the harder it is to shield.”

“Like a Catch Twenty-two,” Brandon said. Sumna looked confused. “Never mind,” Brandon said, waving a hand. “So you are saying that a little secret would be easier to shield than a big secret.”

“In a sense. Also, if someone puts an excessive amount of energy towards shielding a thought, like a big secret, it’s very unlikely that the other person would not notice. The more energy you use to hide something, the more likely the other person will notice it and become suspicious.”

“Hmm,” Brandon said. “So no secrets.”

Sumna shook her head. “Not very many. There is another benefit to tertiary bonds which is not often mentioned but should be.”

“What would that be?” Brandon asked.

“They allow more physical freedom,” Sumna said. “No more bond strain.”

“What do you mean?”

“Think of…. spider webs,” Sumna said. The word 'spider' was strangely accented, something that indicated that it wasn’t exactly the same thing. “If there was a web between two branches of a tree and you pulled the branches apart, what would happen to the web?”

“It would break and fall apart,” Brandon said.

“Yes. So think of the secondary bond as the web. If you separate the branches, that would be you and Jordan, then the bond stretches and eventually breaks and would be destroyed.”

“And the branches would die,” Brandon blandly interjected.

Sumna nodded. “A tertiary bond is like a strong chain wrapped around two large Odwayon trees. If the two trees move apart, is the chain going to break?”

“No. At least, not very easily.”

“That is how the tertiary bond works. Because it is so invasive, so deeply entrenched in both your consciousnesses, it is very strong. It can’t be broken. It can’t be disengaged or blocked or anything that you could do with the secondary bond. It is there and it is there forever.”

“No bond strain?”

"No. Once your minds are connected on that deep of a level, they stay that way. You could be in Vinez and Jordan could be in the Crystal Caverns and you both would be fine.”

“I sense a 'but' coming up,” Brandon said.

Sumna frowned again like she didn’t understand them.

“The only drawback is if one of you gets hurt or killed.”

“That isn’t a drawback in and of itself?” Brandon asked.

Sumna gave him a stern look that reminded him so much of his high school teachers that he withered a little.

“If you get hurt, physically hurt in any way, Jordan would feel it. Not as strongly as you would, obviously, but he would feel some of it. Also if one of you is killed, the other would die, too. In secondary bonding, the Creator is protected. Even if the Enabler dies, the Creator can continue to live. But with tertiary bonding, if Jordan dies, you do, too.”

That’s fine, Brandon thought to himself. He didn’t say it aloud, because that was something Sumna might consider using against him, but he couldn’t stop the thought. I wouldn’t want to live without him anyway.

Sumna glanced up towards the doorway at the same time Jordan’s posture changed.

“He’s here.”

~~~

Naani’s friendly, calm manner instantly had Brandon at ease. He was an older gentleman, in his early forties if Brandon had to guess, with warm hazel eyes, an easy smile and his black hair and mustache were edged with distinguished silver. He was very handsome, and if Brandon hadn’t already had Jordan in his life, he thought there was the possibility for him to develop a little crush on the man.

Naani showed them a cart piled high with narrow boxes that looked too much like coffins for Jordan’s liking.

“I will hide you in these boxes, then ride into town with you as my 'cargo'," Naani explained. "That will get you past the city guards. Then once we are back at my house, I unload you. I have an underground cellar that you can stay in as long as you need it.”

“Do the guards ever check your cargo?” Brandon asked.

“Sometimes,” Naani admitted. “But they won’t open any boxes that don’t look suspicious.”

“And a bunch of human sized boxes won’t look suspicious?”

Naani frowned slightly and Brandon thought the translation of human into whatever Charion inhabitants used might be a little shaky.

“Let me show you,” Naani said and turned to Jassa. “Lady, if I may?”

Jassa approached him and Naani lifted up the cover of one of the boxes. Jassa slipped inside, gave Naani a wink and lay down with her arms crossed at her waist. Naani closed the cover, pulled a short wooden stick out of his belt, tapped several places around the edges of the box and murmured a few words. “That makes it sealed. Are you okay lady?”

“I’m okay,” Jassa’s voice said from inside the box.

Jordan stepped forward and tugged at the cover. It remained firmly in place.

“Then, I do this,” Naani said and tapped the box again. He murmured a few more words and then stepped away, the box suddenly half the size it had been.

“Jassa!” Jordan exclaimed, unable to hide his panic.

“I’m okay,” Jassa called out again.

“Relax,” Naani said. “She is perfectly safe. This is just an illusion.” He tapped what looked like thin air and everyone could hear the rap of his knuckles against wood. Jordan slid his hand over the top of the box and Brandon watched as his hand left the rough grain of the box and slid across what looked like empty air seamlessly. It reminded Brandon of the mimes he would sometimes see in parades or circuses.

“And what happens if something goes wrong?” Jordan asked. “How would she get out?”

“My magic dies when I die,” Naani said.

Jordan frowned. That reassurance was not what he was hoping to hear. What if Naani got captured? Or what if he fell off his horse and broke his neck and was paralyzed?

“It is a short trip to his home in Driamor, and Naani would not let anything happen to us,” Sumna said, her calm unshakeable. “If you boys have a better idea of how to get inside the city that does not include getting captured or killed the moment the guards see our face, I would love to hear it right about now.”

Jordan crossed his arms and glowered. This would be a very easy trap. If Naani was secretly working for Keith, what better way to deliver them to him?

Sumna touched his arm. “He is doing this at great risk to himself,” she said softly so only he could hear. “Trust, Jordan.”

“What happens if the guards want to see what is in the boxes?” Jordan asked.

Naani turned and grabbed another box that looked the same size as Jassa’s and cracked it open. “Bolts of cloth. Or sticks of incense,” he said, cracking open another box. Jordan could see bundles of sticks tied together with a fragrant aroma drifting from the opening. “I’m a trader as well as a psychic. The guards at the gate are used to seeing me come and go; they won’t check closely.” He picked up a board and pressed it to the bottom of the box Jassa was in and tapped it in place. Jordan could see it was a false bottom, cleverly grooved in the middle so it looked like two narrow boxes lying side by side. He tucked a rough blanket over the box and stood back. “With all the boxes stacked like this, they all look the same. As long as no-one empties the cart out, you can’t tell these boxes from the ones that carry actual stock.”

“Good enough for me,” Sumna said, extending her hand so Naani could help her up into the wagon. He opened up a box and helped arrange her inside. “Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Naani gently closed the box and repeated the entire procedure. Then he turned and looked at Brandon and Jordan.

“C’mon, baby,” Brandon said, giving Jordan’s hand a squeeze. “It’ll be over before you know it.” He took Naani’s hand and climbed up onto the wagon and into the box. He tucked his knapsack down near his feet and lay down as Naani closed the lid.

Jordan sighed and climbed into the wagon while trying to ignore the uneasy squeeze in his chest and approached the last box. It looked innocuous enough, slightly weathered boards with a rough-hewn blanket lining the bottom and sides. Sweat was gathering in his armpits, beading on his back and forehead. He reluctantly slid inside the box, fitting his feet against the bottom before lowering himself down onto his back. Naani slid the top over him, cutting away the sky and trees for the dull gray interior. He could hear Naani outside, sealing the box, the impacts of his wand against the wood making Jordan think of nails in a coffin. Panic seized him and tightened his muscles, fisted his hands and he clenched his teeth to keep from screaming or beating at the wood. He sucked in shallow, frenzied breaths and reached out desperately towards Brandon. Brandon’s mind opened up, connecting them, taking some of the panic away. Jordan closed his eyes as the blanket was draped over his box, blocking out almost all sight. There were tiny slivers of space between the boards that had let in sun and some fresh air, but Jordan felt like it was slipping away until there was nothing but darkness and stale air. The heavy thump of boxes being piled on top of him didn’t help, nor did the creak and sway of the cart moving. He wanted out, out, he wanted the fuck out.

Brandon’s mind was pulsing against his, sending out calm energy, the sound of a relaxed heartbeat. It helped a little, kept him from screaming until his lungs were empty, from clawing at the top of the box until his fingertips were bloody and his nails torn.

Jordan focused on the beat of hooves against the ground. Eventually he could hear other sounds, the clink and jingle of other horses, other voices. Then the cart was coming to a slow halt and he could hear Naani talking to some of the city guards.

“What do we have here today?”

“Same as usual. Some pretty cloth for the ladies, some incense, wine.”

There was a shift in weight of one of the guards getting into the cart. “Can I check some of these boxes?”

“Be my guest.”

Jordan felt a tickle in his chest and held his breath, swallowing. He could hear some of the boxes being shifted and opened, but the sound was muffled enough that Jordan wasn’t worried.

“Okay, everything looks in order. Save some of that red and I’ll send Mannie over. She’s been looking to make a new skirt for our little one.”

“I’ll be sure to give her a nice discount.”

“Okay. That’s two pieces for re-entry into the city.”

A jingle of coins. “Thanks.”

“Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

The cart resumed moving, bumping over cobblestone, but Jordan wasn’t reassured. He couldn’t tell which way they were going. The panic washed back over his mind again. They could be on their way to the palace right now and he would be none the wiser. He squirmed impatiently. He needed to get out, out, out, now. His foot bumped the bottom of the box and he kicked at it in agitation.

Stop it.

The command was just the lightest nudge across his consciousness, but it wasn’t from Brandon and Jordan slammed his mind shut instantly. He could feel the slight recoil from Brandon before their connection closed completely and hoped he hadn’t hurt the other boy.

The longer they rode, the more convinced Jordan became that they were heading to the palace. It was too long on this street just to be heading to a dwelling. By the time the cart finally slowed to a stop and he heard someone coming around to unload the boxes, his clothes were sticky and stank of sweat and his throat felt like there was a tight metal band around it.

Naani quickly shoved the boxes with his merchandise aside, unsealed the box and pulled the top free, helping Jordan set up. “Easy there,” he said gently. “Just sit here for a minute, get yourself together.”

Naani unsealed Brandon next, who instantly clamored out to go to his boyfriend, anxiety etched into his face with tight lines.

“Are you okay?” Brandon asked.

“I can’t breathe,” Jordan gasped.

“C’mon, c’mon.” Brandon pulled him out of the box and sat down with him on the ground. “Put your head between your knees. It’s just a panic attack or something.”

Jordan took several deep breaths, the air feeling good in his lungs after the stuffiness of the box. He didn’t even care about how it smelled; an odorous mix of manure, wet hay and animal sweat. He opened his eyes, staring down at the dirt and his own hands, which were trembling. “I’m okay,” he lied. Even his voice shook.

“Here.” Naani knelt down on the other side of Jordan and passed him a canteen. Jordan took it, expecting alcohol like Salvo had given him, and was pleasantly surprised to find water instead. He took a couple gulps and gave it back. Embarrassment flooded his face, making it burn.

Brandon stood up to give him some space, turning to catch his knapsack when Jassa threw it to him from the cart. They were behind some kind of barn. A small shed separated the barn from a small house, and they were shielded on the other side by a large grove of trees.

“Let’s go ahead and get inside,” Naani suggested quietly and Jordan got to his feet. Naani led them inside to sit at a small, scrubbed table, then pulled the curtains shut, lighting a couple of lamps to illuminate the room. “Everyone else all right?”

There was a murmur of assent from the group. Jordan hunched over in his chair, looking angry and sullen. He was embarrassed about freaking out, but he couldn’t stand being in such a tight confining space, locked inside a wooden box just like his parents and brother. His stomach hitched at the thought and he pressed the heels of his hands against the edge of the table to try to ward off the nausea. It didn’t work and he had to get up from the table and walk back outside to vomit in the grass. He could hear Brandon coming up behind him as he crouched down, balanced on the balls of his feet, the inside of his mouth saturated in the bitter aftertaste. He spat in the grass.

“Naani has something to soothe your stomach,” Brandon said. “He wants you to take it and then go lie down.”

Jordan shook his head. “I’m okay.”

“No,” Brandon said. “You’re not.” He brushed Jordan’s hair back. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re claustrophobic?”

Jordan shrugged. “What difference would it make?”

“Maybe Naani could have given you something beforehand to make it easier.”

He could have drugged me, Jordan thought in disgust. Aloud he said “Fuck Naani.”

Brandon grinned. “Threesome, huh? Kinky.”

Jordan couldn’t keep himself from chuckling and let himself fall against Brandon, suddenly exhausted.

“C’mon,” Brandon said, hauling Jordan to his feet. “You’ve had enough for one day, I think.” Brandon led Jordan back inside, through the house and down some stairs into a dark and mercifully cool room near the back. Naani followed them down and gave Jordan a small cup. Jordan drank the tonic inside, which was smooth, cold and tasted vaguely of peppermint, and sat down on one of the small beds, feeling a little better in the cool air.

“Feel free to drop your shields inside these walls,” Naani said. “This entire house is psychically sealed.”

“Thank you,” Jordan said. Brandon nodded his agreement. After Naani turned and left the room, Jordan leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.

“Are you really okay?” Brandon asked.

Jordan opened one eye to look at him, then closed it again. “After my parents died, I would sometimes have this nightmare where I was with them. And everyone thought I was dead, even though I could see and hear everything that was going on. I had to lie in a casket during the funeral and I would try to speak, try to call out that I wasn’t dead, but I couldn’t make a sound. They would close me up in the coffin and lower me into the ground. I could hear the thud of the dirt hitting the top of the casket and I would realize that I would spend the rest of eternity in the ground, under six feet of dirt and trapped in a box. I would wake up terrified and trying to scream, but nothing would come out. Ever since then, I’ve been unable to tolerate being confined to a tight space. Even having something as simple as a bunch of sheets wrapped around me would make me freak out.”

Brandon pressed a kiss to Jordan’s temple. “Add that to the fact that we have to put our trust into someone we don’t know and I don’t blame you for freaking out.”

“Well, I guess we can trust him a little bit. He had a perfect opportunity to turn us into the guards and reap a large reward and he didn’t take it. And I think having a psychic magician on our side would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?”

“A mage,” Brandon said. Jordan gave him a curious look. Brandon felt himself blush a little. “A mage has real magic. A magician just does magic tricks.”

“And how do you know this?”

Brandon shrugged. “Alexis and Leia.” He looked down at his feet. “Did you hear the conversation between me and Sumna earlier?”

“Some of it,” Jordan said.

“What do you think?” Brandon asked.

Jordan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I think it has its pros and cons, like anything.”

“I think we should do it,” Brandon said quickly, like he was in a rush to get the words out.

Jordan studied him. “Okay. Tell me why.”

“Well, first of all, I don’t know what is going to be going on inside the palace, but I would feel a whole lot better going in if I knew I would be able to find you and communicate with you, even if we get separated. Secondly, I think it would help us with the Enabling/Creating. We do okay with that, I think, but you’ve seen how easily Sumna and Jassa are able to do things. It almost makes me think that Enabling and Creating was meant to be on this level. And… well… we’ve both almost died from bond strain. And I do think there will eventually be a situation where we might have to be apart down the road. Not long term, but what if, like, you had a take a field trip out of town and I had to stay because I had a test or whatever? I mean, I know Dalaja and Nikki manage it, but I don’t want to risk it if I don’t have to. And I don’t want you to ever have to go through bond strain. It hurts, baby. It hurts like nothing else I’ve ever known.”

“Alright.” Jordan held up a hand. “I want to let you know that I happen to agree with you on all those points. But there is also another one that you might have not thought of. Eventually we are going to have to go back home. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“And how do you think we get there once we are at the In Between?”

“I-uh-” Brandon paused, momentarily flummoxed.

“I asked Jassa if it could be done and she said that we can Enable ourselves back, but it might be difficult. If we are not focusing on the same place, we might end up stuck in the Void.”

The thought made a cold stone drop into Brandon’s stomach. “I would rather stay here than be stuck in the middle of nothing.”

“Ditto. But we can get back, and it’ll be easier and safer if we are bonded on that level. That allows us to share our vision of our destination. That way we both know where we want to end up.”

“And where would that be?” Brandon asked.

Jordan shrugged. “Somewhere near our home, I would guess. Let’s worry about that when we get to it. Okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

Jordan stood in a small room with Naani that was off from the bedroom where he had been recovering. It was dimly lit with dark corners still hovering in the edges of his vision. Naani had called Brandon in here earlier and Jordan was curious as to what he wanted. They had both told Naani that they had wanted to do this.

“I always make sure to consult with both members of a team before I initiate a bonding,” Naani said. “It has to be consensual, of course, but sometimes a party will be persuaded or pushed into agreement even though they still feel unsure or ambivalent.”

“I have no doubts,” Jordan said.

Naani nodded. “And you know this type of bonding is permanent and irreversible.”

“I know.”

Naani’s eyes searched his. “This requires trust. Not only of your partner but of the person who is leading you through this.”

“You have my trust,” Jordan said.

“If you have any secrets, I would go share them with your partner now,” Naani advised. “Your mind will be wide open during the bonding process and things go smoother if there are no surprises.” Naani turned away. “I have to prepare. I’ll call you both back when I am ready.”

Jordan left the room and saw Brandon standing near the doorway, staring outside. Jordan approached him, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Worried?”

Brandon relaxed back against him. “A little.”

“Naani said that if we had doubts-”

“I don’t. Not about this. But…he said that you might get a touch of my memories. And some of them are pretty bad. Leia and what happened afterwards…”

“I understand,” Jordan said. “But I might see them. Or I might not. But no matter what, we’ll work it out. Okay?”

“I don’t like it,” Brandon said. Jordan smiled at the petulant tone of his voice. His lover’s bratty side was beginning to come out and Jordan was surprised to find that he had almost missed it. He leaned forward and kissed Brandon’s neck.

“Don’t worry about it. No sense in driving yourself crazy over something you can’t help. For either one of us.”

Brandon turned and kissed Jordan on the mouth. “Love you,“ he murmured against his lover’s lips.

“Love you back.”

Jordan and Brandon reentered the room, holding hands. It was resplendent with candles, lighting up the entire room and revealing strange symbols colored blue on the walls. There were two cots standing side by side with a table in the corner. On the table was a small incense burner, filling the area with a soothing, floral smelling smoke. Naani gave them both a goblet filled with a clear liquid. Brandon took a sip and felt something inside him give an excited jump. Wine. Sweet, white wine. He could feel Jordan’s eyes on him and forced himself to drink it down slow. It wasn’t enough to make him feel drunk or even tipsy. Just blunted the edge of nervousness trying to take hold in his stomach.

He felt calm and a little sleepy and easily followed Naani’s instructions to lie down on the cot and he automatically reached for Jordan’s hand before he was told to do so. He didn’t even flinch when Naani wrapped a cord around their hands, wrists and halfway up his forearm, gently explaining that they had to remain in contact throughout the bonding and that some people found the experience too overwhelming to keep a conscious hold on someone.

Naani slipped a cool dry hand over Brandon’s forehead and Brandon let his eyes drift close. He could hear Naani’s voice, low and soothing, chanting words he didn’t understand. He took a deep breath of the incense filled air and felt his muscles unwinding, his mind clearing, emptying out. Curious more than anything, he tried to find a thought, a memory and found them slipping from his mind like water from a faucet. Then it was just light behind his closed eyelids. White, hazy, but bright. He could feel Jordan’s mental presence. It was close, very close.

He didn’t mind. Jordan’s presence felt so good, so comforting, surrounding him and embracing him. Enfolding him. Something new but still familiar called to him and he let himself fall into it.