Carpathian 12 - Dark Melody

him. "I know what I'm saying."
    "I am going to take you out of here."
    "They won't let you." She closed her eyes again. It was a struggle just to breathe. Carrying on a conversation was far too difficult.
    "They cannot stop me."
    Dayan studied the lines running in all directions for a few minutes, then as he unhooked her carefully, he produced the same rhythms as the monitors, simply using his brain to work them. He lifted her carefully into his strong arms and strode boldly right out of the room into the hall with her. He moved easily among the humans, shielding Corinne and himself from human eyes as he made his way out of the hospital and into the night.
    It was darker now and storm clouds were beginning to swirl above their heads. In his arms Corinne shivered, unable to maintain her body temperature. Dayan automatically did it for her, holding their mindmerge, breathing for her, aiding her failing heart. He took two running steps and leapt into the air with his slight burden held close to his heart.

Chapter10
    Corinne heard the whisper of a voice. Faint. Far off. She loved that voice, the way it caressed her name, turned it into something sinfully intimate. Dayan was calling her. She was dreaming, though, and it was a beautiful dream. She struggled to open her eyes. Voices surrounded her, seeped into her heart and soul.
    Strains of music. The sound of water. She became aware she was lying comfortably on something other than a bed. It seemed a great stone slab, but it didn't feel hard. She lifted her lashes and stared up at the Generated by ABC Amber LIT Conv erter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html
    ceiling of a cave. She was in a crystal cave!
    Corinne looked around herself in sheer amazement. Everything was beautiful, a world of crystal and steam with the flickering light of a thousand candles. The air was scented with an aroma she had never smelled before, but she inhaled in an attempt to take it deep into her lungs. It was soothing, tranquil in this place, surreal even. She knew she was dreaming again, but if such a place could never actually exist, Corinne was grateful she could visit it in her dreams.
    She watched the dancing shadows flickering on the walls of the cave. The steam rose and swirled lazily, forming interesting shapes. It was difficult to focus on any one thing, and Corinne allowed her gaze to drift around the large chamber. She seemed to be in a subterranean city of some kind. There were many entrances and large open areas that she could see, almost as if the cave had a network of tunnels and chambers that ran deeper and also rose above where she was resting. The chamber she was in seemed very large, and a pool of steaming water was to her left. When she looked closer, she could see she was in a series of underground caves, with large cathedral ceilings and a stream that moved through a maze of tunnels. Stalactites formed huge sculptural works of arts, hanging from the ceiling. They were dazzling to look at. It seemed a sparkling world of gems and colors.
    It took a few moments to realize she wasn't alone. There were several people in the large chamber with her. They were all around her and chanting in a foreign language. It was like a beautiful melody, dark and mysterious, a sacred ritual of some kind. The men were very handsome, their faces sober and intent, the women beautiful beyond description. The chanting filled the underground chamber with the haunting rhythm of the earth itself so that Corinne began to feel it in her veins. It was running through her like a river, ebbing and flowing with the cycle of life.
    The ritual didn't alarm her; in fact, she felt very secure lying there watching them all. She studied each of them for some sign that they were familiar to her. The men were exotically handsome. They wore their hair long, their bodies were trim. All of them were intimidating to look at, yet, strangely, she wasn't frightened. They resembled Dayan, as if they could be closely related. All of them were chanting, and their voices were beautiful.
    Corinne turned her attention to the women. Three of the women had long dark hair flowing nearly to their waists, while the fourth had rich red hair. All of them were graceful in their movements. Corinne found herself watching them singing, admiring the way they moved, their gestures and voices, their uncommon grace. The pattern of their hands and the swaying of their bodies were mesmerizing to watch.
    After a time she became aware of the