Wonderland
The Falling Silence

1

All her life, Katherine felt out of place.

Even as a child, she had always been the whimsical one, the quiet daughter of two equally quiet parents. To her peers, she was too intelligent to be understood, only exploited, a distant girl with a shy smile. She was full of words and ideas from books, music and film none of her friends had ever heard of. No one got her jokes. No one understood the emotion of her drawings. Mostly, she played by herself. Even at school, sitting obedient in class, Katherine danced through her own imagination, through fantasy romances and private dreams. How could she convey these things to her friends, obsessed with clothes and pop stars and television?

So, inevitably, Katherine grew very lonely.

But by the time Kat entered college, she'd buried that spark deep enough that others could take her seriously and she didn't have to be alone. She took on another mantle, the serious girl, the dedicated student, the reasonable one. Listening to the opinions of people around her, Katherine chose an imminently reasonable career, psychology - as science, mind you, not as the artful curiosity she considered it to be - to make them proud of her. Her parents were happy. Katherine paid her own way through school with loans and scholarships, and one day she would make a great deal of money, and everything would be fine.

The sadness was she remained misunderstood. Though she was accepted as a scholar, Katherine retreated from the world. She grew aloof, and when she smiled, there was pain to it. She couldn't be proud of her own accomplishments, and she couldn't accept the praise of others, as much as she craved the attention. While Katherine could talk for hours about the science of the brain and behavioral principles, she remained lonely. She was still too smart for her own good, too quietly emotional for others to be comfortable around her. The few inspired ideas she had in her field were dismissed as being unsupported and unprofessional.

By the time she earned her Masters, Katherine was very sad indeed.

She had stopped drawing years ago, burying sketchbooks and a plethora of colored pencils and chalks in the old footlockers her father owned. These made the trip to Colorado with her parents when her older brother, Christian, happened upon whatever luck of wealth he found and shipped them northward. Kat felt a definite pang of loss to see her old construction paper masterpieces and notebook paper drawings sent away, but she never lifted a finger or said a word to retrieve them before Mom and Dad slipped away into their comfortable, private lives.

Indeed, in a moment of disgusted weariness, she asked them to take away her dolls, stuffed animals, and other treasures with them "for safe keeping". Divested of the trappings of her childhood, Katherine tried to forget all about it. She plunged headlong into a promising career of clinical psychology - perhaps leading toward counseling, though she lacked enough direction to say - and banished thoughts of artistry and expression in the search of stable, lucrative employment.

But then, with shocking ease, Katherine’s life flipped upside down. Her roommate, Audrey, having long complained about Katherine's shyness, dragged her out to the Aardvark club in the rundown neighborhood near the university. It was a dark and a little seedy inside, smelling of beer and cigarettes, and Katherine demanded to leave the minute she stepped inside. But Audrey and their other friend, the tallish blonde, Rebecca Taggart, each grabbed one of her hands and dragged her into the throng.

To everyone’s surprise, Katherine was dancing exuberantly amidst the throng within no time at all, stopping only to fall back and catch her breath. Some needy, willful corner of her heart took over from Reasonable Katherine, and her friends squealed with delight at the change. The pulsing of the lights, primitively choreographed with the driving beat of the dance music, drove her into a whirling frenzy. Kat couldn’t help but wonder if Audrey had slipped her something in a drink. Audrey did Ecstasy and LSD and probably other stuff as well, but she never shared. Katherine wasn't interesting enough to bother.

Late in the evening, tired and rather drunk, Katherine was introduced by Rebecca to her boyfriend, Andrew Petrucci, and a few of his friends. Kat didn't catch any names after the first, a handsome young man, Daniel Vera. He was tall and wiry, with slightly browned skin, black hair swept back in waves from his forehead, and the softest brown eyes Katherine had ever seen. When Daniel smiled, her insides lit up, and that needy, willful corner of her heart filled with desire. So even though Katherine was dead tired, she asked him to dance with her. And he readily agreed.

Daniel was a different kind of man than Katherine was accustomed to. He was easy-going, unpretentious, and genuinely funny. Daniel treated her with respect and admiration, even as she giggled and stumbled beside him in alcoholic bliss. It was April, and the air was already hot and thick when he took her outside. Normally, Katherine hated that kind of weather. But that night, she drank in the humid air, leisurely looping her arms around Daniel's waist with a decadent smile.

All the while, part of her was certain she’d lost her mind.

From the look in Daniel's eyes, he was just as enchanted. Katherine was radiant, green eyes sparkling as she smiled, with a lightness to her that was almost childlike. The air smelled of grilled hamburgers and spice from the restaurants around them, and the other clubbers and students were laughing, talking, and horsing around. Katherine was delirious and beautiful, and a bit mad. He caught her hands in the parking lot and they performed a little spin, continuing the dance.

Katherine was already in love by the time he pressed her to the wall.

They were in the back parking lot of Aardvark, where the crowd was thin and the din of the music inside was muffled. Katherine saw Rebecca and Andrew pass by, hands clasped and laughing, before turning her attention back to the man in front of her. Daniel was breathing hard from dancing, laughing and the endless, breathless conversation they'd had on the way out here, though neither of them could recall what it was about. Katherine stared up at him with wild eyes, flattening her back against the rough bricks.

"I'm going to kiss you," Daniel informed her softly, "So don't be afraid."

"So who's afraid?" Katherine countered with as much bravado as she could muster. Truthfully, the feel of his hands, caressing the curve of her hips, and the light in his eyes blotted out any other emotion but desire. Daniel was close enough that she could smell the musk of his body. The lights in the parking lot seemed brighter than normal, the colors of his clothing deeper and more lush. Behind him was the silhouette of the Bank One tower. She'd often wondered when walking by what the university looked like from the top of it. The view had to be spectacular.

"Glad to hear it," the man answered quietly. Daniel's smile ignited something in her. The night air was too warm and humid, and she was sweating in all the secret nooks and crannies of her body. It was an excruciatingly sweet feeling. Too hot, too much to drink, too everything. Daniel whispered "you’re beautiful" before capturing her mouth in a kiss. She arched her back, meeting the kiss with all of her body.

It was at that moment, molded against him, that Katherine first heard the music.

It was soft at first, the melody gently calling from somewhere in the night, but as the kiss deepened it swelled in her ears, drowning out all other sound. She thought it was a guitar and a flute, but they were like nothing Katherine knew. The song was rapturous, stirring her passion for this man with a dangerous, almost overwhelming strength.

Daniel broke the kiss, his lips trailing over her chin and throat, and began to nuzzle her neck. It was a gorgeous feeling, captured as she was by the music, and Katherine felt herself melting against him. If she looked hard enough, she could see the stars, swimming against the blue-black velvet of the sky beyond him. It was impossible to see so many stars at once here in the city. But as a heady breeze rippled across her body, she didn't fight the experience.

The music followed Katherine and Daniel all the way home.

Reality came crashing back in the next day.

Katherine's head hurt when she woke up, hung over and tired, with painfully urgent thoughts of classes and due dates scrambling through her mind. If it weren't for Audrey's proud reassurances, she might have dismissed the whole thing as a dream. Certainly, it felt like a dream, misty and fragmented in her memory. But the haunting melody of the song and the desire for Daniel remained.

Daniel was waiting outside of Katherine's morning class when she came out of the glass and steel tower of Tandy Hall, his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans, leaning against a tree. The sight of him heightened her memories of the night before, and that needy, willful part of her soared, prodding her along toward him. He smiled graciously, delighted to see her again, and joined her in the colonnade. "Hi, Kat."

Katherine frowned slightly at his familiarity, running her hands back through her hair to delay a response. Last night was a mad whirl that belonged to someone else, not the woman she knew. But Daniel's smile was warm and honest, and he was genuinely gorgeous, not the kind of man that she usually spent time with. "Hi," Katherine sighed, returning the smile shyly, "What're you doing?"

"You wanted to have breakfast together this morning," Daniel explained, a bit confused.

"Did I?" Kat wondered aloud, startled. Whoever that other woman was last night, she had certainly planned ahead, knowing this man enticed her too much to back off from an invitation she herself had made. Even if she had already eaten that morning. "Oh, yes," Katherine grumbled, raking her hair back with a quiet laugh, "Um . . . alright, I guess."

"Is everything okay?" Daniel inquired, a bit hurt.

"Yeah," Katherine replied sheepishly. On impulse, she reached out and clasped his hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Daniel's smile returned immediately, and he squeezed back. How in the world had she possibly attracted a man like this, except by becoming someone else? Katherine felt like Cinderella the day after the ball, plain and embarrassed by her earlier wildness. "I'm just a bit hung over, sorry. I'd love to have breakfast."

Gradually, spending the morning with Daniel, that other woman took hold of Katherine again. Daniel was attentive and sweet, talking at length about his family's origins in Brazil , his optimism for a future as author and teacher. He listened to the abridged version of Katherine's life story without questioning her specialness, showing sympathy with a hug and a stroke of her hand. Somehow, the mixture of sadness and frustration Kat felt about her past drained away under his touch and quiet gaze, and she found a sense of humor about it.

Katherine fell in love with him all over again, as herself.

As the weeks passed, the two spent as much time together as possible. His presence filled her with a confidence she'd never known, and when classes and research threatened to drag her back down, Katherine sought him out to recharge herself. Audrey was delighted by the change in her friend, and for the first time in all the years they'd lived together, they went out together to clubs and concerts. Between Daniel and Audrey, Katherine was always in love.

For her part, Katherine softened Daniel, taking away the edge of frustration and disappointment from his daily life. The life of an aspiring history professor and writer wasn’t terribly glamorous, but it went magically around Katherine. Time didn't flow properly when he was with her. It would stand still as they lay together under a tree on the university lawn, Daniel caressing her cheek as she drowsed against him. Or it would rush by in a mad flash when he took her dancing or to endless parties. There was no in between. And it wasn't long before they made love the first time, urgently and insatiably.

But as much as she adored what was happening to her, Katherine was also afraid.

Increasingly, things seemed unreal. At first, it was just a sense of disassociation, that she was no longer in control of her body and emotions. Someone else seemed to take over. Someone with boundless passions that would drive Katherine to exhaustion if she let her. Also, as much as Audrey and their friends enjoyed the change in her, Kat sensed others distancing themselves. Acquaintances, professors, and other students regarded her with trepidation. More than a few asked if she was alright. Her schoolwork suffered as she lost focus. Her writing grew almost irrational, with ideas and concepts thrown about with little or no logical backing.

Fortunately, the semester broke for summer vacation before things truly got strange. Or perhaps it was the freedom of summer that allowed things to progress. Classes and research provided a touchstone for Katherine, a place to ground herself in the real world, even if her thoughts wandered. But during the long, lazy months, Katherine and Daniel spent all their time together, particularly when traveling. He introduced her to his parents in El Paso , and they flew up to Colorado to visit hers. Mom and Dad found Daniel to be a very nice young man, but it became clear that they didn't entirely trust him, particularly given how fast things were moving between he and Katherine. And how fragile Kat seemed to be.

Katherine laughed too much, and she was always full of energy and emotion. The slightest thing could send her giggling or crying, depending on the moment, and her parents were forced to walk on tiptoe around the two lovers. One evening, Kat proudly pulled out her old plush animals and drawings for display to Daniel, only to dissolve into tears. Mom and Dad’s quiet, responsible daughter had become a walking emotional time bomb, and they could only put Daniel down as the cause. The whole time they were visiting, Katherine felt their eyes on her, bemused and more than a little worried.

The third night they were there, Mom found Kat in the living room, sitting before the blazing fireplace. Katherine was humming to herself, like she had as a little girl, trying to find and follow the silent melody which only she could hear. Katherine didn't answer her mother's hushed questions, her eyes closed. By the flickering firelight, Kat seemed to be a different woman, both younger and older than her daughter. Her hair was a glossy black. And when Mom shook her by the shoulder, startling her awake with a yelp, she swore Kat’s eyes were momentarily a far more brilliant green.

Neither mother nor daughter spoke about the incident, but when Katherine and Daniel returned to Texas , she received a perplexing telephone call from Christian.

The first words out of his mouth were, "Your mother's worried about you."

"Christian?" Katherine looked at the phone, then at Daniel, lounging on the bed with her vinyl copy of The Smiths' Queen is Dead spread across his lap. Chris had always been a bit odd, even to her eyes. And though they'd barely spoken over the past several years, Katherine thought he'd only gotten odder. "Is that you?"

There was a long pause before his strained voice came back, as if he really didn't want to be having this conversation. "Yes . . . Like I said, mom's worried about you. What is going on?"

"Nothing," Katherine answered sharply, "I'm fine. Why is she worried?"

Daniel tipped the album cover down to look at her curiously over the top. She frowned.

"She's worried about this guy you're with," Christian answered slowly, "She said you've been acting strange ever since you got together. She mentioned something about you sleepwalking?"

"Mom's overreacting," Katherine murmured, turning away from Daniel, "We're fine."

"So," Christian sighed in frustration, as if his time had been wasted, "Nothing strange is happening? Nothing's going on that you want to talk about?"

"Nothing," Katherine answered flatly. The last thing she wanted was for Christian, or her parents, to be pushing her for answers she didn't have. "Look, I've got to go."

"Okay. Goodbye." Click.

And for a long time, nothing happened.

Katherine was grateful as life began settled down again, even if that dislocated sense of self and the haunting music hung on, particularly at night. She lived with Daniel and his friend, Zach Hagell, at their apartment near school. The two men gained jobs at Motorola for the summer, allowing Katherine time to herself to work on research or simply relax. She took long walks through the campus and the public park down the street, watching the groundskeepers work in the sweltering Texas heat.

Many times, Katherine settled under a tree in the park with her sketchbook. It had been years since she attempted to draw anything but doodles in her notebooks, but the release of the artwork was deliciously satisfying. For long stretches of time she could lose herself to the shapes forming on the white parchment, the pencil scratching in sweeping movements over the page. That sense of dislocation could be escaped as long as she focused on the page.

Katherine was delighted to find she drew beautifully and with precious little effort, the style coming as naturally as rain. At first, she sketched the faces of children playing on the swing sets, the young mothers talking together in the shade of an old oak tree. But before long, her subjects changed, and Kat was drawing figures she recognized only faintly from dreams and imaginings. A man's face emerged most often, pensive and thoughtful, with long dark hair, stirring a strange longing in her. He was no one Katherine knew, but to that needy, willful part of her, he was special.

One Tuesday afternoon, basking in the light of an unusually cool August day, Katherine stopped to sip of iced tea from a thermos she took with her on these excursions. When she set it down, she noticed a black cat nestled in the grass nearby, whose approach had been too stealthy for her to detect. He was a scrawny thing, but quite lovely, with glossy black hair and white tufts at his overlarge ears. His eyes were gold and exotic, and he wore a collar of intricately worked silver and leather.

"Hello there," Katherine murmured in that voice people reserve for children, brushing the hair back from her face where it had fallen. "Who are you? Have I seen you around before?"

The cat looked up at her wearily, resting his chin against his paws.

"You're beautiful," Katherine smiled, cocking her head, "Do you want me to draw you?"

Naturally, the cat didn't answer, so Katherine proceeded to sketch him anyway.

The intelligence in his bright yellow eyes required the most attention, and Kat worked at the portrait for long hours just to capture the right feel. As she sketched, the old song, "Lucifer Sam" came to mind, and she sang it softly as the afternoon wore on. Quite naturally, and without her realizing it, the words trailed off until she was humming that recurring melody from inside herself. The sun was touching the horizon when she finished for the day, only to find the cat had long since scurried off.

Stretching, Katherine lay back against the tree and inspected her work. The figure of the cat itself was gorgeous, with a sardonic, fey quality, like the Cheshire Cat. Scattered around the edges of the page were doodles where she'd paused for thought. In the bottom right corner she'd inked out a sketch of a rose in full bloom, around which swirled hearts and smiley-faces, her usual nonsense. Below the rose, in a flowing script quite unlike her own, she'd written the word truehearts.

Daniel met her with a kiss when she got home. He was delighted as always by her drawings, a talent of hers which he, like Katherine, hadn't known she possessed. Kat was shy about her work, but Daniel always loved to inspect them. They had the spirit of an infatuated young woman, but also a touch of mystery. Like the black cat, Katherine had a knack for capturing people and places at special, unusual moments. The quiet angst of a young mother watching her child, or the swing set sitting empty in the sun.

"True hearts," Daniel smiled, kissing her gently.

Blushing, Katherine wrapped her arms around his waist, tugging him into her for another kiss. Daniel readily consented, tossing her sketchbook onto the corner of the bed. "Soul mates," Katherine explained faintly, tucking her head between his jaw and shoulder.

"True hearts," Daniel whispered again, as a counter, "I like the sound of it."

Laughing softly, Katherine ran her hands up over her man's back and looked up at him. Daniel kissed her again, more slowly and deliberately this time, before pressing his forehead to hers. "I have a present for you," he murmured, faux-guilty, and broke into a grin at the eager-curious look this earned from her.

With excruciating slowness and ceremony, Daniel produced a long jewelry box of red velvet and instructed her to close her eyes. Standing there, in what had become their bedroom, Katherine listened as Daniel opened the box and circled around her. And then that first shivery feeling as the chain lighted upon her skin, and the weight of the necklace coming to rest above the swell of her breasts. Daniel brushed Katherine's hair to one side, kissing her throat, and clasped the necklace for her.

"I love you," Daniel whispered in her ear, "Open your eyes."

It was gorgeous, a glittering round-cut emerald resting at her chest on an immaculate silver chain. Even in this faint light, it brought out the soft green of Katherine's eyes, making them sharper and more sensuous. They were eyes she knew well. She’d sketched them endlessly in the margins of other drawings, drawn to the feel of the expression they held. Daniel's arms came around her middle and he rested his chin on her shoulder, waiting hopefully.

"God, it's beautiful," Katherine sighed, bursting into a smile, "Oh, my God."

Daniel's breath was hot against her ear. "The past few months have been wonderful, and I wish summer didn't have to end so we could keep spending this much time together. I've never been happier, Katherine." A light kiss at her earlobe. "I love you."

"I love you," she whispered back, clasping his hands.

"True hearts," Daniel offered, with a smile.

Katherine laughed, light and amazed, and agreed. "True hearts."

From that moment, life sped up again.

The end of summer whirled by, celebrated by dancing and love-making, until Zachary wryly offered to move out, just to get some peace and quiet at night. Though the old Katherine would have blushed at the comment, the new woman she was becoming - or who was in control of her then - only laughed and grinned sweetly.

But returning to school reawakened the lurking unreality within Katherine. It only grew worse as she tried to enforce a distinction between her school life, which required her to be thorough and rational if she wanted to maintain her grades and scholarships, and the rest of her life, dominated by Daniel, sketching and partying. The sense of dislocation from herself was especially strong at school, wandering the hallways of the Sid Richardson building, where the hard sciences were housed.

Many times she would have to stop working and force herself to concentrate on the task at hand, rather than slip into the stream of random ideas running past. Surrounded by computer terminals and high-tech laboratories, Katherine quickly grew tired and bored with her project, and it took an enormous amount of effort to keep working. Unhappily, she began to find herself deeply dissatisfied with her field, a regret that stung badly when Katherine considered how many years she'd poured into it.

She compensated for these feelings by going wild in her free time. Katherine drew constantly when she wasn't working, and even at the library when she was supposed to be digging through stacks of moldy-smelling books for material. Daniel found her to be an increasingly voracious lover, though he didn't complain at all, and she determinedly dragged him all over town on nights and weekends to dance, visit art galleries, or wander through parks.

Katherine put it all down to the rush of being in love.

The winter holidays were a welcome relief from this dizzying back-and-forth life. Thanksgiving was spent awkwardly with her parents (her brother did not attend), who remained watchful and cautious of the couple. Christmas was passed more easily with Daniel's family, where the two could get lost in the numerous siblings and cousins who arrived to celebrate. The remainder of the holiday Daniel and Katherine spent together in solitude, at a little cabin his family rented out in Oregon .

It was here, late one night, that Katherine started awake.

She lay atop Daniel, her head resting against his sternum, with the blankets piled upon their naked bodies. The room seemed very dark, almost to the degree of being sinister, and yet she could see clearly. The heat of Daniel's body was luscious and almost unbearable in contrast to the chill of the air around them. Lifting her head, Katherine checked the time by the nearby clock radio, its glowing red digits like gems. 12:48 .

Resting her chin against Daniel's chest, Katherine gazed quietly up at his placid face. She could almost see the dreams flitting by across the movie screen of his eyelids, feel the strange enchantment of his sleep. The melody of pipes and strings trickled back into her consciousness the longer she watched his dreaming features, rising in volume until she couldn't bear it anymore.

And yet, the sound cut off the moment she looked away.

Dazed, Katherine planted a kiss on Daniel's chest and slid cautiously off of him. One hand caught the edge of a blanket as she stood, wrapping it around her bare shoulders. Curiously, there was no fear to any of this, she’d grown so accustomed to her phantom music. There was only the edgy quality of dreaming, as if the night world held its breath. Daniel didn't stir as she left him, padding across the cold wooden floor on bare feet. More than ever, Katherine felt as if she were watching herself, an outside observer to her own life.

Katherine splashed her face in the bathroom a few times, hoping to shake off this feeling, and rested her head against the cool glass with a sigh. The cold numbed her legs and feet, turning them into clay, and she held like this for quite a while, working up the strength to walk back to bed. But after a few minutes, Katherine felt her thoughts starting to wander back toward sleep, back toward Daniel.

Leaning back, Katherine got a glimpse at the other woman for the first time.

She stared back at Katherine from the mirror, the blanket pulled tight around lightly tanned shoulders. Her face was slanted and elfin, with high cheek bones, a little rounded point of a chin, and a full, sensuous mouth, all framed by a mass of thick, curly black hair. Large, almond-shaped eyes dominated her features, the color of the emerald Daniel gave to her. The same eyes she’d drawn. Kat shivered as this apparition studied her with equal dread and curiosity, the emotions only emphasized in her sharp features. This woman was supposed to be her, somehow, Katherine knew. She was familiar and alien at once.

Then the alarm blared to life, jerking Katherine truly awake. She was on top of Daniel once again, his warm hands resting against the white flesh of her back. Glancing about wildly, she checked the clock again. 9:00. Daniel muttered a hazy "damn it" and slapped the snooze button, returning to the world to welcome silence. When he turned back, Kat was staring at the clock in panic. She did not tell him about her dream.

Afterwards, Katherine moved back into the dorm with Audrey.

Perhaps it was a survival instinct from the rational part of her, the old Reasonable Katherine, struggling under the strain of the dreams and music weighing on her. Either way, Kat offered up whatever excuses were necessary to Daniel to regain some distance, claiming she needed the time to think about their future. Audrey was happy to have her back, of course, troubled though her friend was.

But the switch was already thrown and the changes couldn't be undone. Katherine continued to see Daniel constantly - at meals, between classes, in the evenings, whenever they were free - and couldn’t dream of doing otherwise. Thoughts of possibilities crowded her waking mind as she considered him, and her sleeping mind was disturbed by restless, disjointed dreams. Moreover, Kat's strange visions didn't abate.

The black cat she'd sketched, who she named Lucifer Sam, appeared on multiple occasions as she walked about the university. This alone was no great shock, but she also began glimpsing him in the dorm or at Daniel's place, always watching her. Occasionally, she would catch sight of the dark haired woman with the bright green eyes in mirrors as she passed.

In the freshman psychology class for which Katherine was assistant professor, she would look out across the sea of young, bleary faces and pick out strange visitors. One of them, a quiet girl named Tina Dobson, always appeared as a ghoulish, white-faced figure with long black hair, in a dress of crushed velvet. She was a bizarre figure in the crowd, but no one paid her any attention. When Kat asked the class a question, she could never hear Tina's answer. The girl - if it was a girl - always whispered. Everyone else thought Katherine was going deaf.

Kat kept these things to herself, as she always had.

Audrey lost count of how many times Katherine came home, clutching her head with a tired, distant look on her face. She perked up again only when Daniel came around to take her out. In his presence, she was full of energy and enthusiasm. But Audrey felt a growing sense of unease for her friend. Kat would only say she was having bad headaches, like migraines. Bright lights hurt her eyes, and the smell of food was overpowering when she was hungry.

The funny thing was, when Katherine gave over to the reality of the visions or spent time in Daniel's company, she felt extraordinarily happy and alive. Everything became more vibrant, music more exquisite, sex more rapturous. Daniel's touch could transport her to Heaven. It was only the rest of the time, forcing herself to work diligently on her projects, trying to make logical arguments for tiresome psychological phenomenon, that the edge of anxiety and fear returned. That the melody of that silent song rang in her ears.

That willful, needy part of Kat begged for Daniel's home, but Katherine refused to listen.

It was early in March that she was approached by a strange young woman, introducing herself as Karen Hughes, a distant cousin from Virginia . In appearance, she was like a younger version of Katherine's mother: small and slender, with a mane of shining blonde hair and cool blue-green eyes. She seemed vaguely familiar, and Karen readily suggested that they'd met as girls, when she and her father came down to visit the Texas side of the family.

"I'm a photographer," Karen explained brightly as the two walked to Katherine's next class, "I'm in town to shoot the Main Street Arts Festival and do some shopping, so I thought I'd look you up. I've heard a lot about you, that you're doing really well in school. You're one of the stars in the family, you know."

"Thanks," Katherine murmured, "It's been interesting."

Under Karen's gentle coaxing, Katherine reluctantly divulged the broad outline of her schoolwork. In doing so, she realized how tedious it must sound to other people. Research, statistics, hypotheses and evidence. She spoke more eagerly of Daniel and her artwork, a passion Karen seemed to better comprehend and appreciate. In turn, Karen talked about her work as a freelance photographer, which left her in a constant state of travel. But she adored it, the adventure of the ever-changing moment, and her excitement was infectious.

"The Mediterranean is marvelous," Karen confided, "The people and the culture are delicious. And the music! I love to go there even when I'm not on assignment, just to hear the local musicians play. It's magical. You just have to go there sometime. It's a great place to find yourself."

"I don't know I'll ever find the time," Katherine lamented distantly, "I'm so busy now."

Laughing, Karen shook her head. "You have to make time for what's important."

Katherine was surprised by the ease with which the blonde lured out information about her childhood, her romance with Daniel, her hopes and dreams. The two women were soon talking as old friends, and Kat found herself babbling on about the joy of drawing as they stood under the trees, outside the theater building. On and on until, with a sudden deepening, the sense of inner dislocation returned.

Katherine rubbed her temples against the coming headache as Karen looked on, smiling gently. The spread of grass around them seemed impossibly green, like a watercolor painting, the sky a delicate canopy of blue. And then the music was back, rising and falling with her breathing, following the rhythm of her heartbeat.

"You okay?" Karen inquired, clasping her shoulder.

Katherine shook her head, wincing. "I'm fine, it's just awfully bright out here."

"Mmmm." Karen glanced dreamily up at the sky. "Yeah, but it's beautiful, don't you think? Look at all that sky. Just relax and take it all in. No need to fight it."

"I really should get to class," Kat frowned, brushing her off, "I'm going to be late."

Karen sighed and, for the first time, her face fell in disappointment. Aquamarine eyes studied Katherine for a moment before her smile returned, kind and appeasing. "Well, okay. Try to enjoy the rest of your day, hon, and if you need anything, give me a call."

Katherine looked down at the card which Karen handed over. "Alright."

"Just relax, Katherine," Karen grinned, "It's a great big world out there, and there's a lot to see. Don't worry so much." She slid on a pair of sunglasses and gave Kat's hand a sisterly squeeze. "Hope to hear from you soon."

Over the following months, Karen called regularly to check up on her. These conversations were usually mercifully brief, little more than a quick hello and "anything interesting happening?" There was no gossip or crying-on-shoulders. Karen only seemed to be waiting for something that never came. Her attention was slightly unnerving, and after a while, Kat instructed Audrey to screen her calls. Consequently, Karen began calling less and less, until she left one final, disappointed message: "Good luck, Katherine. Maybe someday."

She did not call again.

School was also becoming a burden. Katherine struggled to make any headway with her project or keep up with classes. It had all lost interest for her, and even without the sleepless nights, headaches, and strange visions, Kat doubted she could have kept up. The distinction between Katherine's waking and dreaming worlds was getting fuzzier. The sight of Lucifer Sam or her own changed reflection became frighteningly commonplace. She dared not tell a soul.

Katherine's mentor, Dr. Ronald Schuster, summoned her in early May to express his concerns. He was a therapist, working part-time at the school's counseling center, and his kindness tempted her to explain the confusion she felt about herself. But Kat knew his type very well, and feared being diagnosed as schizophrenic or psychotic. Not that she didn't privately apply these labels to herself. So Kat could only smile and offer weak promises to do better, earning a gentle rebuke and the less gentle threat of withdrawn grants.

Daniel seemed oblivious to it all. And no wonder, since Katherine took on her brighter, more confident persona around him. Despite how radically she'd changed, she felt more like her true self around him. Daniel was her life preserver, and they were soon discussing arrangements to live together again, in a place of their own. The potential of marriage was also raised, and the joyful idea carried her through many rough days.

As the semester lurched to a close, Katherine poured all her energy into her research to satisfy Dr. Schuster. By the exhausted end, fried and disgusted with the material, Kat didn't know how she'd carry on next year. But it was an accomplishment to keep her financial aid and rest. She had a chance to refresh herself at Daniel's side.

Afterwards, life was peaceful for weeks. Katherine and Audrey moved into a smallish apartment near school, with the understanding that Kat would not stay long. She spent most of her time at Daniel and Zachary's anyway, even as the search for their own place began in earnest.

Katherine returned to sketching during this time, and even tried her hand at painting. Daniel, Zach and Audrey were happy to model for her. She adored the slow evenings spent sketching portraits before slipping into love-making, dancing, or late night walks around the campus. On nights like those, that willful, needy corner of her heart surged with enthusiasm, and Kat fancied a career in art instead. The science of psychology was becoming anathema to her, after all.

Of course, in the mornings, thoughts like these were absurd and unrealistic.

But everything seemed that way by then. Katherine couldn't escape her dark-haired reflection, especially at night, and Lucifer Sam darkened odd corners and doorways wherever she went. Perhaps it was the security of Daniel's presence, but Kat was increasingly less afraid of these phantoms. Away from school and science, she could even have a sense of humor about it. Neither seemed particularly threatening, though the sight of the other woman always jarred Katherine's sense of self and left her in a dazed state.

The music was another constant companion, heard it in dreams, while awake, or just hummed to herself without thinking. The melody was known to her now, its melancholy beauty like an echo from a far older time. Kat sang it to everyone who would listen, hoping someone would recognized the tune, but no such luck. If she could unlock the mystery of the song, Katherine hoped, maybe this strange haunting of hers would be explained. Perhaps ended.

Fortunately, truly unnerving experiences were rare. Here and there she would glimpse a strange creature, or an out-of-place animal wandering the parks or city streets. A glance upwards might catch odd, winged shapes that disappeared in the glare of the sun or resolved themselves into simple birds and airplanes.

The people were most startling. Katherine saw a little boy with the features of a bird, colored like a peacock, running circles around the university's front lawn, as if trying to take flight. When asked, other people either didn't notice or brushed him off as ordinary. Katherine sought to question him personally, but he gave a startled squawk at her approach and hurried away before she could speak.

More worrisome, these curious people began noticing her, too.

Katherine bumped into Tina Dobson one afternoon in an old book store downtown, and yelped in shock at the sight of her, dropping the books in her arms Tina's pale, deathly visage betrayed a thin smile as she looked Kat up and down and chuckled under her breath.

"You see, don't you?" she asked softly, smirking.

"See what?" Kat murmured, hastily stepping back.

"You see the real me," Tina breathed eagerly, "How long? Hmmm?"

Katherine shook her head, backing against the shelves. "I don't know what you mean."

Tina nodded toward the corner of the room. "Can you see your little friend?"

Looking that way, Katherine was surprised to see the ever-silent shape of Lucifer Sam, curled into a sleeping ball atop crumbling science fiction paperbacks. "Ah, so you do," Tina smiled, "And you're starting to recognize him."

Brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, Kat studied Tina warily.

"Look down," Tina suggested, "Look at yourself. What do you see?"

Reluctant to take her eyes off of this bizarre creature for long, Kat glanced down to see nothing more than her legs, blue jeans, and the dusty floor. "I don't see anything," she muttered grimly, returning her gaze to Tina, "What are you? Is that real or makeup or what?"

Chuckling faintly, Tina shook her head dismissively. "Not yet then. But soon."

Soon thereafter, someone began stalking her.

Katherine felt their presence mostly at night, but for the most part she saw nothing. It was primarily a feeling, and one she didn't immediately share with Daniel. Odd as it was, Kat was growing accustomed to the random information her intuition offered, and kept her eyes open. What she saw was little more than flashes: a white face in the crowd of a noisy dance club, or movement in the corner of her eye. She wondered if it were Tina, or others like her, but the willful, needy person taking over Katherine whispered they were something else altogether.

The feeling came and went through June and into July, with little apparent correlation to the other visions. Nothing came of this feeling initially, but she was quite nervous in the evenings. Near the end of July, Katherine awoke in Daniel's arms to Lucifer Sam's low growl, his gold eyes shining in the corner. It was the first time she'd ever heard him. When she lifted her head to see Sam, Katherine spotted a dark, manlike shape in the tree outside, two floors up, but it vanished almost immediately.

The next day, Katherine called Karen by the number on her card, hoping she would be a better confidant than Daniel, who'd only freak at what she had to say. The phone rang endlessly before a sleepy man's voice answered. He mumbled that Karen was out of town on a job - Bangladesh , apparently, quite beyond contacting - and he'd give her the message whenever he heard from her.

Though disappointed, Katherine took some comfort in that these apparitions never caused her harm, no matter how startling or eerie they were. Sam, for instance, was a pleasant enough companion, like an imaginary friend, but the break in his silence worried her.

Dread slowly infected Katherine's artwork. Laughing figures and reflective moments gave way to dark, empty streets and slanted, menacing faces with cold eyes. Lucifer Sam began appearing regularly at night, circling the living room once or twice before fading from sight again. It was not a sign to Katherine's liking. But he seemed to be look out for her, even if she didn't know why.

However, Daniel soon began asking about her silence. The search for an apartment had gone well, and they had only to wait a few weeks for space to become available at a complex in Arlington . From Daniel's vantage point, everything was going splendidly, and Kat's sudden anxiety worried him.

Katherine readily shared her fear of being watched, that something dreadful lurked ahead, but she had no proof of anything. Daniel listened carefully and studied her for a long moment before hugging her against his chest. "What do you think it is?"

Katherine shook her head in frustration. "I've no idea. I've only seen flashes of them here and there, at clubs and outside the window, like I told you."

Working his fingers into the soft mass of her hair, Daniel sighed and kissed her forehead. "Are you sure it's not just your imagination?" he suggested, "I mean, if you only feel it at night?"

Kat laughed weakly, both at her inability to explain and at old familiar words from her childhood. Back then, everything had been just a figment of her imagination. While she once believed herself too old and responsible to be like that again, here she was, seeing dreams and phantoms everywhere. "Maybe," she conceded, "I don't know."

"But you're really scared," Daniel said, holding her tight, "Aren't you?"

Katherine nodded. "Yeah."

Unfortunately, the coming of school in late August demanded a hasty return to the university for preparation. Katherine postponed it as long as possible, until it couldn't wait any longer. There was literature to be reviewed and lengthy thesis papers to write. At least the library was a safe public place in Kat's view, with dozens to hundreds of people around to keep an eye out for her.

Things went quietly at first. Though truthfully, the effort required to plow through the professional texts, crawling with miniscule, barely legible print, took most of her concentration. Only when she stopped to use the restroom or take a break did the waking dream experiences reassert themselves. Katherine felt a mixture of regret and relief when her dark-haired doppelganger looked tired and pale in the bathroom mirror, as if she were losing her grip on Kat's life. She dwelled on the image as she returned to work.

Rebecca caught Katherine in the hallway outside the women's restroom, offering a sunny smile in greeting. Tired and lost in thought, Katherine hoped the tall blonde would keep to herself, but no such luck. "Hey, Kat," Rebecca murmured in her sultry contralto, "Have you seen Andrew around? He was supposed to meet me here at eight."

"Hi," Katherine returned distantly, "Um, no, I haven't seen him." Wan smile. "You know Andrew . . . he's probably just running late or got caught up in something . . . "

"Mmmm," Rebecca frowned noncommittally and glanced around. "How about you? You look a little . . freaked, or something. Is everything okay between you and Daniel?"

Katherine nodded sharply, nervously smoothing out her hair. "Yes, we're fine."

"Just burned out then, huh?" Rebecca inquired, blue eyes tinged with worry.

A small chuckle worked its way up from Katherine's chest. "Yeah."

Rebecca nodded in sympathy, but Kat's gaze drifted languidly over her shoulder, to where Sam's black shape was visible, circling the statuary in the lobby. Noticing her attention, Sam froze in place and stared solemnly back. Faintly, the music began in the back of Katherine's head, even as she tried to suppress it.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Rebecca offered, glancing over her shoulder at the empty hall. "You look like you need a break. Andrew and I can run you home or you can come out with us to get some food?"

"No," Katherine muttered, still focused on Sam, "That's alright. I really need to say here and finish up what I'm working on."

Nonplused, Rebecca waved a hand in front of Kat's eyes to draw the young woman's attention back to her. "You sure? You really seemed spaced out."

Rubbing her eyes, Katherine nodded. "Yeah, really. Go ahead. I've got a lot to do."

There was a lot to do, and not enough time to do it all.

Katherine settled into her seat at a scarred table in the library's reading room, one of perhaps a dozen students there. She surveyed the landscape of books, periodicals and handwritten notes before her, searching for a way to begin. But the longer she stared, the more hopeless it seemed. In her disoriented state, Kat couldn't remember where she stopped working last or the few optimistic ideas she'd had to investigate. The pile before her seemed immense. Even if she wanted to continue, she no long had the spirit or strength to do so.

As a desperate sadness took hold, Katherine turned to her notebook for inspiration. There was another rose there, the once fresh ink having faded. Around it she'd scrawled half-thoughts, snippets of song lyrics, hearts and stars and smileys and Daniel's name, all in a swirl of frantic, cramping handwriting. But towards the bottom, in a sea of aimless loops and curls, that other woman had written a message for Katherine in her smooth, graceful hand: Oath breaker.

The room blurred as tears rose in Katherine's eyes, and she looked away.

She cried quietly, disconsolately, for a long time. Her tears smudged the jagged ink of her notes, smearing away what faint inspiration she'd captured on paper. This was the end of it, Katherine decided. She didn't care anymore how many years she devoted to her education, to psychology, to the coveted degree that promised a comfortably boring life. There was no lying to herself anymore. All she wanted was to get out, to do something else with her life. And in the process, she'd tell Daniel all the weird and senseless things she'd seen and let him tell her she was crazy, that she needed help, that everything would be alright. Whatever.

She didn't care anymore. She was too tired.

The musty air of the room became stifling. And when she wiped at her eyes, they stung deeply. The pain seemed to clarify her thinking, her senses. The cracks in the sandy beige paint on the walls, high above the ancient electric clock, pained her inside. She could hear the buzzing of the fluorescent lights above her, and the steady breathing of the other students. The colors of their clothing, the books they carried, were too bright. They hurt her eyes. Everyone in the room was going in slow motion as she watched. Everybody but one.

He was tall and handsome, seated at the next table, wearing a shirt of blue silk and dark jeans. Long, thin fingers turned the pages of an old copy of Alice in Wonderland, the cover battered and discolored from some long ago calamity. His dark hair mingled with feathers, black and oily-looking, which seemed to be growing directly from his scalp. As Katherine focused on him, her stomach clenched fearfully, and he looked up. And smiled.

Katherine looked away, and hastily began shoving her belongings into her purse and book bag. Something - a scream, a nervous breakdown, something - was building up inside of her. Better to release it outside, in private. Out of the corner of her eye, Kat observed the man close the book and rise calmly to put it away. She glanced about at the other students, all of whom continued working or chatting diligently. Lucifer Sam was nowhere in sight, but there was palpable danger coming from the man. If that's what he was.

When she had her things together, Kat took another hasty look around. The man had disappeared into the long rows of bookshelves to her left. Clearly, though, he hadn't been real. No one else had noticed the odd figure he presented, white as paper with feathers growing in their hair. That sort of thing was hard to miss. But even if he were no more real than Sam or the boy on the lawn, the pressure tensing inside of Katherine demanded release.

She was shaking badly once she left the building.

Thankfully, Katherine's head cleared outside as she hurried between the portable buildings housing the sociology department and the brick fortress that was Sid Richardson Hall. The wind had picked up while she was inside, the hot air carrying the sound of traffic from Berry Street and the scent of fried catfish from the seafood place on University. The parking lot of the school's bookstore was empty as she briskly passed through, heading for Zach's car in the lot across the street.

The distracted Katherine was nearly ran over on Berry Street by an old Chevy pickup truck driven by an irate Hispanic man. She blundered across the road and was fortunate to make it safely to the median before cars filled the street. The headlights of the passing automobiles made her eyes ache, and rainbow flames trailed in their darkened wake. The desperation and exhaustion filling her up inside threatened to overflow at any moment, and she turned her face to the silver moon and its host of stars for relief.

The wind stirred her hair as she scanned the sky. The winged shapes she often saw there had returned, pockets of shadow against the heavens. Only there were so many of them tonight, crossing overhead in a great flock that defied comprehension, blotting out the stars in their passage. They were like bats or dragons or some other fantastic species.

Katherine froze at the sight, clutching onto the metal pole of the signal light.

A great tension surrounded Katherine as she danced across the street under this spectral swarm, as if an electric charge were building up inside and over her body. She shivered as the wind caught her hair, blowing it into her eyes, feeling hot and cold at the same time, and she nearly stumbled on the lip of the opposite curb. Soft flames trailed her fingertips as Katherine brushed her hair aside, just like the lights of the cars behind her.

She didn't stop to study this phenomenon. She didn't care anymore about phenomenon or explanations for the madness bubbling up within. Katherine only knew the world was growing darker under the shroud of creatures flocking overhead, turning the sky to pitch. Reaching the safety of Zachary's old Ford Escort was everything. Before she burst out raving and screaming at her life, all the time wasted on psychology and endless research into the drabbest of experiences, the unbearable confusion of not knowing what was real anymore.

Katherine floated across the rough tarmac of the parking lot toward the car, dizziness overcoming her as she began losing track of her body. Everything was numb underneath the electricity thrumming through her brain and through her limbs. The last gasp of her rationality sought to explain the sensation, coughing up thoughts of drugs or illness. But Kat shoved them away, shuffling toward the refuge of the car. She could cry herself into insanity once there, as long as it was private.

Isn't this what having a stroke feels like? Reasonable Katherine wondered faintly to herself. Same symptoms. Especially the light trails. Am I having a stroke? Aren't I rather young for that? I feel like I'm floating.

I'm flying! Oh, my God, I'm flying!

A jet plane roared by her ears as she hurtled upwards an immense distance, leaving the real world far, far behind. Katherine's book bag never made the trip with her, it was lost in the parking lot below. But in mid-flight, she caught sight of her purse, the gorgeous leather and silver one Kat's mother got her for Christmas one year, sailing down to earth. The strap rippled in the wind like the wings of the fantastic creatures hurtling overhead. Or like the tail of some sea creature. A manta maybe.

A rush of insensible thoughts struck her as the mortal world fell away from her mind, carrying her along in a torrent of music pouring forth from deep inside herself. Thoughts of castles burning, dragons of truth, white-faced serpents in whispering deserts, and a broken oath to a long-gone lover, Katherine's absent friend. And, rising out of the whirlwind of these fragmented memories, came the lonely cry of love for Daniel. Katherine had wasted so much time those past two years, trying to hold onto something she wasn't. She'd wasted so many opportunities. But that could be changed. That would be changed. Anything was possible again.

Arms thrown out behind her, dark hair fluttering in the wind, Ariel soared higher.