Talk about a mystery!
I'm traveling to islands (that I'm totally inventing) with my heroine, Lisette de Lille, meeting new people and experiencing new things. It's both terrifying and thrilling at the same time. Pretty much like riding the Tower of Terror at Disneyland.
Lisette went through a transformation recently, and required a little help to get acclimated to her new life. I sent her to a small island, Ile de la Tuerie (Slaughter Island) to find an expert. I expected to find a wise crone to guide her.
Lamya de Sang showed up instead. Lamya is Arabic, meaning "having beautiful dark lips" and "de Sang" is French for "of blood." Here is how she made her entrance:
* * * * *
I
turned to face the waterfall, and my fate. This time, I did not have to wait
long. As I watched the stream of white flowing from the cliff, making ripples
in the aqua lagoon, a form appeared in the ribbons of water, so slow in
movement, I blinked to make certain my eyes were not lying.
A
woman emerged, like no one I had ever seen. Begum had spoken of a crone, an old
woman. The goddess in front of me was not as I imagined.
She
was tall, muscled, and with skin blacker than any native I had ever met. Her
hair, copper and thick, draped her naked, glistening body. She stepped out of
the water and over to a rock, where she retrieved a long, green robe, which she
fastened about her. It had a way of covering and exposing her at the same
time—tight at the waist, it opened wide at the top to display cleavage and was
slit on the sides to reveal her legs as she walked.
She
walked toward me. As she got closer, her eyes were the most curious part of
her. They were gold, not a brash yellow, but deep and burnished like an ancient
coin. She did not smile at me, but offered me her hand.
“I
am Lamya de Sang.” Her voice had a languid, purring quality.
“I
am Lisette de Lille.” I took her hand to shake, but she grabbed it and turned.
“Come.”
She pulled me toward the waterfall. “We have much to do, and you are probably
hungry.”
* * * * *
She reminds me of a sculpture I saw once - whether in a museum or the internet, I don't recall - of the bust of a woman, black and beautiful, with a neck like a graceful swan, full lips, large eyes. I searched all over the internet and can't find her. Perhaps it's because she walked out of the museum and into my story.
Lamya teaches Lisette many things. I hope she returns. She's a wonderful character.
Later, Peeps--I gotta go write another chapter.
