Ellen Under The Stairs Read Online Free PDF Page B

never
seen.
    Whatever it was the Mage had taken
out, this was her time to kill John-Lyon. Though he was leaving, he
could come back to hurt her any time he liked. Even without his
golden Crystal, he had great power!
    Slipping from the shadows, holding the
knife behind her, John-Lyon was very much surprised to find her
there, saying he had not seen her in the room's shadows. While he
spoke, she was wondering how she could stab her knife into his body
so that he would die.
    At last, thinking of a way to do that,
she had thrown herself in the Mage's arms, in turn, circling him
with her arms, ready to plunge the knife into his back when
....
    When ... searching in the Mage's mind
... she could tell that the Mage ... cared ... for her. As she had
come to ... care ... for him. Surely, if he cared for her, he would
not harm her. Those were her thoughts. (To make certain of his
caring, she had then strengthened this caring in his
mind.)
    It was then that John-Lyon kissed her,
the kiss making her ... dizzy. It was as if the Mage had reached
into her mind to strengthen her caring for the Mage.
    Platinia had never felt such a thing.
Such a ... hunger ... for the Mage!
    After that, she had thought the Mage
would carry her up the rope -- the Mage stronger than any other man
-- so they could escape from Pfnaravin like the rest. But John-Lyon
did not do that. Instead, he talked of the thing he had taken from
the secret hiding place. The ... machine. And before Platinia could
quiet her mind to think, he was twisting and twisting the machine's
... handle ... at the same time, having Platinia wrap her arms
around his waist.
    Then she had felt it. The
transformation fluid. Running up her arms. Entering her head so
that her hair stood on end.
    There was a crack! And she found
herself lying in silence in that small space, unable to move -- the
Mage beside her.
    They were in the Mage's frightening
world! A world of Band Sickness!
    The great weight of her body pinning
her to the floor, she was afraid again, like she used to be! Afraid
of the power of John-Lyon in his own world! For here, his power was
greater; her mind power, weaker.
    Exiting the Mage-hole, though she was
as tired as death, she had tried to use her etherial power to pick
through the Mage's mind. To strengthen those thoughts of ...
caring.
    But could not do it!
    In this foreign world ... there was no
... magic.
    Now, she heard footsteps! On the
stairs! The Mage was coming!
    Should she pretend to be asleep? Would
it matter if she could fool him into believing that she
was?
    She was so weak. Could hardly move.
But must be ready. She must not show how weak she had
become.
    With a great effort, she sat up. By
using both arms, dragged each leg over the side of the bed, sitting
there, her feet too short to touch the floor. Trembling, she pulled
her robe around her, dirty as it was. For she had nothing else to
wear.
    Had she understood the Mage to say he
would bring her another robe? She was not sure.
    "You're awake."
    He had come though the door, already
recovered from Band Sickness. The tall young Mage; his smile gentle
on his lips; his strange green eyes flashing through her body like
arrows in the heart!
    She nodded. A great
difficulty.
    "I think you'll like what I ... you.
Some .... And ...."
    She was not understanding everything.
Only some words. Little words.
    In the Mage's arms were ... bundles
wrapped in cloth ... yet not cloth, the non-cloth thin and smooth
like she had never seen.
    John-Lyon, tearing the cloth, was
taking ... things ... from the bundle, things of cloth she did not
understand. Cloth in bright colors. Pretty ... like
flutterbys.
    "First, you put on these," he said, in
words small enough for her to understand them all.
    Looking up at him, he looked ... she
did not know how he looked. He looked ... frightened? Like after a
great ... confusion.
    "After that, you slip on this
...."
    He was holding up what looked like the
bottom of a robe.
    "And this goes on top."
    He