Heat Stroke

As a Dji

And, I discovered, I was pulling power from David. Lots of it. A big silvery conduit of it, flowing from him into me up on the aetheric plane, like a sleek, barely visible umbilical cord.

“It’s nothing,” he said, when I brought it up. “Training wheels. Once you start feeding yourself from other sources, it’ll stop.”

It was a lot of power. I wondered how hard he was having to work to keep himself strong. The image of a transfusion kept occurring to me—blood flowing out faster than the body could replenish it. Juice and cookies probably wouldn’t be enough, not when he kept bleeding like that.

All this learning was tiring. And Dji

I woke up with a shock, jerking myself out of a dream. Nightmare. A burning house, pain, screaming, my soul being shredded and consumed…

“Shhhhh.” David turned on his side and raised up on an elbow to look down on me. It was dark in the room, although I could see gray fingers of light curling around the edges of the blackout curtains. Dawn, it looked like. How long had I been asleep? “You’re dreaming.”

I blinked and focused on him, wondering how he knew. I had a heartbeat—or at least, I did because I believed that I did—and maybe that was it, maybe he could feel the fast, panicked tap of my pulse in my skin. Or maybe he knew because he just knew. I had no idea really how powerful David was; I was barely starting to realize how powerful I was, come to think of it. Or, to be more accurate, how helpless, at my level of development.

“Dreaming,” I repeated, and had a surprising thought. “Dji

“Sure.” His eyebrows arched, thick and expressive. “Why wouldn’t we?”

“Oh, I don’t know… You don’t really have brains?”

“We,” he corrected. Yeah, I kept forgetting that Dji

“No.”

“Let go.” I wasn’t holding anything. I opened my hands anyway. He shook his head. “No, let go of your body.”

“Um… okay…” I’d just spent the last seven days learning how to stay in my body. “Hang on a second…”

He dissolved into mist before I got the last word out of my mouth.

I could still feel his hand warm on my skin.

I slowly relaxed my grip on the world and let it blur around me, let myself slide up into the aetheric, where the world took on different spectra and realities and possibilities. I was real here, too, but different.

David was still with me, still holding his hand on my chest, but neither of us were flesh.

Understand? he asked again. Not a physical voice, not a mental one—kind of a vibration that translated itself into words somewhere in my head. It was dim and distant, but I could still understand it. Oddly, it felt like it was vibrating through that silver power co

How can I feel that without having—

A body? I couldn’t see him, but I could still sense him, and what I sensed translated to me as a smile. You always have a body. Come on, Jo, you know physics. Matter into energy. Matter exists in three states…

Solid, liquid, gas.

At least in the physical world. And does the form of the matter make matter less real?

That doesn’t explain how I can feel you touching me.

You think touch is a sense that’s hardwired into nerve endings? He did highly inappropriate things to areas of my body that didn’t exist in any corporeal way. I still felt heat inside, felt parts of myself that no longer strictly existed start to ache and need. You think any of this has anything to do with bodies?

Well, I don’t think I’m ready for making love with you as a gas.

Too bad. His voice—or my interpretation of it— vibrated inside me, intimately. What about liquid? Want to get wet?

You’re a very bad influence, did you know that?

I felt his smile like lips against my skin. It’s been said.

Would you stop that?

Stop what? If you don’t have nerve endings…

All right, I get the… the point… How can you gasp for breath when you aren’t breathing? Can we go back now?

I was starting to adjust my senses to the aetheric; it wasn’t that I could see him exactly, but I still sensed him. It was a little like night vision—an outline that glimmered in a there-not-there kind of fog, in silvery shifting layers. Beautiful. Ghostly. I’d spent a lot of time on the aetheric level as a human, and I’d never seen anything like him up here. But then maybe my eyes—even my eyes in Oversight— hadn’t been equipped to view the spectra on which the Dji

Speaking of which, the plane stretched on, unbroken to the limits of perception, and it was… beautiful. Even more beautiful than before. Where, as a living breathing girl, I’d seen things in Kirlian outlines of reds and greens and blues and golds, in Dji

Humans displayed as flickering ghosts, pale and transparent; some glowed hotter than others, and those, I understood, were probably Wardens. People with power over the various elements. Hundreds of thousands of them crowded the place in confusing eddies, drifting and pulsing, combining, melting into each other, giving and taking. I was watching the entire flow of life on the spiritual plane.

It was breathtaking. Humbling.

Circling in and around them were the multilayered fogs of Dji

He didn’t answer me, which was odd; I couldn’t see his face, of course, but I had the sense somehow that his attention had shifted away from me. Watching… focused somewhere else.

What the hell is that? he asked absently.

What?

He stretched out a—hand? — and brushed it through empty air. I didn’t see anything. No, wait, I did… just the faintest glimmer of light. You know that cold phosphorescence that fish have, in the deepest black of the ocean? A kind of cold light, in tiny little blue specks.

It was like that. An insubstantial fairy glitter of blue, few and far between.

And I felt a sudden rush of tension from him. Can you see that?

Sure. What is it?

I don’t know. From the tone behind that, he obviously hadn’t run across anything like it before, and it was worrying him. I can’t feel it.

I reached out and experimentally tried it, too. Where I touched, there was a phantom coldlight sparkle, just a few tiny lights firing. Huh. I don’t feel anything.

Exactly. Energy is being expended, or it wouldn’t show up as light. Yet we don’t feel it.