Sacred Vow – Chapter 11

Katerina and he (or the person whose eyes Ian saw her through) lived in a city.  They were in a windowed apartment of a multistory building.  Their large living space was not without considerable evidence of affluence.  There were expensively framed, original paintings on the walls.  Much of the furniture was ornate, solid wood. Several of the articles had the uniqueness of handmade work, and Ian felt certain a number of the pieces were antiques.  The floor had an exotic pattern of inlaid wood, covered with finely crafted rugs.  The technology of appliances and the buildings he could see through the windows suggested this life took place in the present, the very near past, or in the near future.

Only intuitively did Ian recognize the woman in the room as Katerina.  Maybe Djalma would have said it was honing in on her energetic signature.  Her behavior and appearance was different, but Ian had no question this was she.

“Where have you been?” Katerina asked, sounding mildly annoyed.

“Visiting friends.  What difference does it make?”  The tone of the voice Ian felt resonate within his host body, her partner’s voice, showed he was unconcerned.

“More likely, visiting a friend,” she said.

Now Ian understood the environment and was having a hard time imagining the purpose of this visit.  It took too much effort to make a journey just to watch this annoying alternate life where Katerina and her partner so thoroughly disregard each other.

They have no idea who they are or what we all share, Ian thought to himself.

The words between the couple made it obvious the husband was having an affair.  His responses sometimes implied that they were both frequently unfaithful.  With that kind of wounding behavior, Ian expected some strong emotion to be flowing with their words.  Ian, though not his host, seemed to be the only one in the room feeling any such passion about what was happening to their relationship.  Katerina and her mate stepped through the conversation with a choreographed precision, without any real emotional effect.

What the hell are you people doing? Ian thought.  He felt no lack of excitement: he could assure them that the field of play was not completely without passion on this day.

Strike.  Parry.  Step and speak again.  This “argument for display” that they were carrying on was unnatural to Ian.  They must have been practicing that pattern for years in order to achieve such threatening accuracy without actually imposing any evident damage on each other.  As their dance flowed, Ian was being drawn in ever deeper.  Unable to resist, he responded, though silently, to the pernicious nature of their actions.