Wild Men of Alaska 03 - Dreamweaver

bright spot in the candlelit room. Her breath caught when her eyes met Gemma’s. “No,” she gasped. “Tell me you didn’t.”
    “You can see?”
    “Oh, Gemma, my bright star, I did not want this for you.” A hitch in her mother’s voice tugged at Gemma’s heart. It wasn’t lost on her that she’d called her Gemma instead of Gemini either.
    “Mom, why didn’t you tell me?” Gemma knelt down at Siri’s feet and took her hands in hers.
    “How could I? You would have locked me up for sure.” A sad smile curled her lips. “Let me tell you a secret.” She leaned in and whispered, “I’m not all here.” She tapped her temple. “A big part of me exists somewhere else.”
    This wasn’t news to her. Except for the idea that Siri believed parts of herself existed somewhere else. “Tell me how, please.”
    “That’s it.” Siri shrugged. “I can’t remember it all anymore. There are vague images, feelings. I was so into experimentation when I was younger. Did things that one shouldn’t. Drugs, sex, astral projected when I didn’t understand the gravity of what I was dealing with. So many mistakes, thinking I knew it all. There are elements, spirits out there who are not to be trusted. They want to live again so badly that they will tempt and tease you into risking things that you would not otherwise do. Risking your very soul.”
    “Lucky isn’t like that.”
    Siri sadly shook her head. “They are all like that. Like vampires sucking out our life’s essence. Has he talked of how he was robbed, killed before his time? How you are fated?” Siri didn’t wait for Gemma’s answer, not that Gemma could answer with the lump lodged in her throat.
    “I tried to warn you, Gemma. I should have done more to steer you away. It’s apparent that you’ve slept with him. But how many times have you laid with him?”
    Heat rushed into her face. Never had they talked of sex. As open to experiences that Siri seemed, sex was a subject never to be discussed. She’d been a contradiction growing up, this free-spirit in every sense except one. Gemma was finally getting an idea of why.
    “Once,” Gemma admitted. “Last night.”
    “Where?”
    Gemma dropped her eyes to the Mosaic rug beneath her. The intricate design of purple, black and blue with shots of gold swirled into a mess of color. “He called it Limbo.”
    Siri sucked in her breath. “Oh, dear God.” Her hands clenched Gemma’s. “How did you get there?”
    Gemma swallowed. She couldn’t tell Siri the pills she’d given her had sent her on a round trip ticket to the one place her mother seemed to fear most. “I don’t know for sure.”
    “How long were you there?”
    “Most of the night. Why?” It was her turn to ask some questions. A few answers would be a welcome change of pace.
    “The more you share, the longer you astral project, the harder it’s going to be to fully return. If at all.” Siri pondered for a few minutes, the pupils of her eyes almost totally black. “We can knit back together your aura, given enough time and no more exposure to your Dreamweaver.”
    What was she, a sweater? And if this could be done, how did they “knit” Siri back together?
    “I’m lost, Gemini.” Siri answered her unasked question. “There are no threads to lace me back together. I played too long in the astral plane, lost too much of myself to those worlds.”
    Worlds?
    “Your father tried, bless his heart, but the threads of my soul had already been stolen.” She hopped to her feet and went to the desk, sliding drawer after drawer open until she pulled out a long silver chain with a ruby crystal hanging from it.
    Gemma had a feeling she knew where this was going.
    “I should have given this to you before. Where is my mind?” Siri shook her head as though to clear it. “It will help ground you. Your first chakra is the root, here.” She motioned to her groin. “I want you to wear this and imagine that it’s a grounding cord running from your spine to the base of your tailbone deep into the earth. It will help you draw energy up through the earth and keep you from astral projecting.” She handed the crystal to Gemma. “Go ahead, put it on.”
    “I can’t take this. You should wear it.”
    Siri held up her hand where a ruby winked on her ring finger. “I’ve always worn this. Your father gave me this ring when we hand-fasted. It does the same and symbolizes who my anchor is. Or was.” She gave Gemma a bittersweet