Tiny lights came on and I found myself in a place I never could have imagined. There were lights of varying brightness peeking out from behind plants. I absently touched a leaf expecting to feel fabric only to feel a real plant growing between my fingers. It never could have grown like that on the surface. Here, it grew perfectly in the dark. Searching for what was keeping them alive, I found little canals of water between the plant pots. 

I stepped forward off the marble and onto a golden carpet that spread out before me in a straight line like red carpets were tawdry and gray. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with his books. I had entered a library and not a chapel. These were the books I wanted to read. Not like the books in Scotland, which I realized now were more like a bank than a horde of his dreams. 

Above me, the ceiling was black and navy with an artificial night sky shining above me. Lines marked it like the longitude and latitude lines on a globe.

Beyond the books, I found a transparent curtain hanging in a circle around his rectangular bed. The bed had tall walnut posts and heavy gold brocade curtains. At the foot of the bed, words were carved into the wood. I couldn’t read them. I could see at once that they were in the same language that was tattooed on Christian’s face in the third chamber of his heart. Above, the bedspread was dark velvet plush and inviting. This was Christian—luxury without overstating it. A gossamer throw blanket rested on the bed and I touched the weave with reverence.

This was a place time forgot. The blanket I touched may have been a thousand years old, but felt like it had been woven yesterday because Christian commanded the fibers to never change, like he’d cast a spell on it and everything else in the room. His tongue was so enthralling, everything obeyed him, even the air stayed as fresh as if it had just swept over a white spray of perfumed mist.

I sat on the edge of the bed. A man like this had chosen me for his wife? He wanted me to share this bed with him? This life with him?

It seemed unreal. I would have believed it of the Other Christian. He looked at my face like he wanted to know more. He even stared up at the atmosphere of the Red Forest like he could breathe the air of my body and it was sweetness itself. Something about me was a mystery to him. He needed more.

I had forgotten myself. I needed to see the King of the Red Forest. 

On the bed were shining rose petals scattered, like they waited for lovers to fall on them. They looked so soft and delicate, I thought they were from a real plant, but as I got closer, I realized they were made of gold leaf. Cupping my hand, I started picking them up, when I remembered who I was. I dropped them and commanded the rose petals to gather themselves together in a pile on the table beside the bed. 

Then I placed myself on top of his dark velvet blanket and pulled the throw blanket over me. Resting my head on the pillows and looking up, I realized I was in the place where Christian dreamed. Above me was the constellation Cassiopeia, peeking through the sheer canopy over the bed. The corners of the stars gave her knees, hips, ankles, and a saucy tilt of her chin. Christian came here to dream about a woman.

I hoped it was me. 

I closed my eyes. 

In an instant, I stood on the edge of the Red Forest and saw the work King Christian had been up to. Inside, there was no longer a brown night inside my body. Over the roof of the shrine, the dawn was breaking. The brown of the sky faded from red, then pink, and then orange. It was almost yellow at the place where the sky met the clay roof. 

Christian emerged from the shrine and pointed to the light. “That’s east,” he said.

“What’s east?” I murmured.

“Your esophagus. That’s where the light is coming from.”

I stared in wonder. 

He leaned against the door frame, his foot up to turn his legs into the number four. “Do you need something, my beloved?” 

“Do I need to sleep?” I replied abruptly.

“Definitely. We’re not at a point where you should abandon sleeping.”

“What about eating?”

He dropped his leg and scratched his head. “That’s less important. If you have an opportunity to eat, you should take it. From now on, if you’re ever on the surface, even if it’s sporadic, eat. Though I won’t plague you with hunger, I’ll give you cravings if there’s a material I could use. By the way, you’re low on iron. The next thing you should eat is a beef spinach salad.”

“That sounds delicious,” I said, almost foaming at the mouth. I hadn’t eaten properly in months. I shook off the thought. “I have news. We found you—the real you. We were just about to get you when Pricina said I should sleep before going. Do you think I need to?”

“You’re asleep now,” he said with a smile that awakened my senses. “Where am I, the real me?”

“You’re in a prison. I’m going to break you out.”

“Do you have plans for how to do that?”

I scoffed. “It should be pretty straightforward. I shaved off a piece of dolomite and turned it into a diamond… uh… but that’s not the important part. I’ve been training it to do matter manipulation in my stead, which seems to be faster than doing everything myself.”

He nodded feigning interest. “I’m sure that has its advantages,” he said with a smile.

“It’s my eyes when I can’t focus on more than what I can see,” I explained.

“If you feel confident, then spend your naptime with me,” he said, clasping my hand in his. “I’ll take you through your body and show you the improvements I’ve made. If the Other Christian is successful, I won’t always be here. Like him, I need to teach you how to control your body completely. Even if you reach the highest level, you need to know how to maintain it.”

My smile fell off my face. “Because a god can fall from any height?”

“Gods die all the time, but you won’t be one of them.” He tapped the tip of my nose. 

I clutched his hands. “I’m worried about you.”

He stuck his tongue in his cheek before withdrawing it with a click. “I’d worry about me too if I was less into you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I huffed.

“I’d survive my head being cut off, being gutted and flayed. I’d survive anything to make it back to you. I’m not going to go crazy or die. I have to make it back to you. I have to make you mine and give you everything that’s mine. I have so much to give that it will take a very long time.”

What he said moved me, but what came out of my mouth didn’t reflect that. I shook my head and said, “Still so confident.”

He shrugged. “I want what I want.”