The Templar's Legacy (Ancient Enemy) by R. Scott VanKirk Page B

sat down next to me. That only lasted a few seconds before Jim ordered us to go back out and collect the firewood we had forgotten. It wasn’t hard to find, so it didn’t take long.
    I was getting used to seeing Colette hold her cross and pray before each meal, but, dinner that night consisted of salami, cheese, crushed Doritos, and fruit roll-ups. It felt a bit formal for our modest meal. That cold dinner was a far cry from the gourmet meals that we cooked on my excursions with my Dad and Uncle Mark, but it still hit the spot.
    When it was time to head to bed, Dave couldn’t be coaxed from his tent and its protection from the mosquitoes, but Jim, Colette, and I chose to sleep out under the open sky. Jim fell asleep first. Colette and I lay on our backs, watched the stars, and talked into the wee hours. Though not a techie, she was as much a star buff as I was. Before Colette fell asleep, she scooted her bag next to mine.
    She snuggled up to me, put her head on my shoulder with a sigh and said, “ Bon soir , Finn.”
    Startled, then elated, I hesitated and then wrapped my arm around her. “Good night, Colette.”
    Wonder and warmth filled me. The only girl (not my mother) I’d ever been close to up to that point was Spring, and my relations with her (when she had a body) had been purely carnal, overwhelming, and required no help from me. On top of that, Spring wasn’t really a girl, she was a dryad. Colette was a living, vital woman who wanted to be close to me. It tied my insides up in a knot, but in a good way.
    Colette quickly fell asleep and the soft sound of her breath caressed my ears as it grew deeper and more regular.
    The sublimely perfect moment lasted for about ten seconds. That’s when the mosquito buzzed my ear, no doubt attracted by the DEET I’d slathered myself with. In a reflexive panic, I slapped my hand to my ear and nearly popped my eardrum.
    I bit back a curse and froze. Colette stirred and mumbled, but thankfully didn’t wake up. I had no idea how people could fall asleep that quickly.
    I rubbed my sore ear for a bit and then put my arm back down. Unable to find a comfortable position, I settled with putting it carefully behind my head. That freed my attention to better feel the root sticking into my other shoulder. It had previously gone unnoticed, but now it began to hurt as I relaxed and the weight of Colette’s head pressed my arm down. I tried to subtly reposition my shoulder but failed to relieve the pain. In fact, it just got worse.
    When a cat falls asleep on my lap, I find myself paranoid about waking it up. I feel like it’s a violation of a sacred trust or something. Needless to say, I would rather have chewed my arm off than pull it back and wake up Colette, so I just gritted my teeth and tried to go to sleep.
    Of course, at that point, my left arm, now behind my head, started to go numb. When I slowly and carefully moved it down to my side again, I found it left my neck uncomfortably stretched onto my small pillow. As a bonus, it pressed the root deeper into my shoulder.
    I lay there cursing silently while looking at the silvery stars twinkling against the velvet black sky above me. As I did so, the pain continued to worsen in my arm, and my neck started to protest its awkward angle. Eventually I’d have to move, but I resolved that I would wait till Colette was deeper asleep, so I could move without waking her.
    Spring was mystified. Just move your arm , you goofball. So what if she wakes up? It’s not like she’s any great catch.
    Internally, I gritted my teeth. Spring, please shut up! We’ve been through this. Go to sleep!
    She huffed at me and then pulled away. It was a good trick for someone who was living in my brain. I still hadn’t come up with a reasonable physical explanation for the relationship Spring and I shared. How one brain could host two consciousnesses was just one of the inexplicable, but undeniable mind scramblers that had been making an omelet of my