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CHAPTER

SEVEN

THE WOMAN

BEFORE

T he floor of the hut felt familiar now. The whole room was, from the curved walls to the wooden spines that held up the thatched ceiling, piercing outward to form a perfect circle.

She knew many of the faces that shared the space with her, and she offered a serene smile to the new ones, the scared ones.

The mug in the woman’s hand seemed to fit her fingers perfectly, and the taste of its contents sliding down her throat no longer made her choke.

The Professor had told her that this would happen if she kept coming back, if she persevered.

Of course, he was gone now.

He was no longer beside her, no longer holding her hand, but that was all right.

She was ready.

The woman leaned back against the wall, feeling the coolness of the uneven stone pressing against the back of her head. Her eyes were closed now, but she could see more clearly than ever before.

She could see the molecules that made up the air, bobbing into her, dancing in a twisting show of a thousand colors. She reached out to touch one, but it was gone already, replaced with a smokey blackness.

The woman thought this was interesting. She wasn’t afraid anymore. The journey was safe, she could trust it now.

She had been waiting for what came next, though she didn’t know what exactly her prize was until it materialized from the dark.

It was a snake, green and smooth, with scales that sparkled with an inward light. Its eyes were white, and the woman looked into them without fear.

“Who are you?”

The woman’s mind spoke the question. She knew her lips would not move. No one else would see. This creature had come for her and her alone. The snake had come to touch her soul.

The Professor had promised, and his word was true. The woman had never doubted it.

When the snake spoke, its voice was gentle, feminine. It floated on clouds of color, filling the woman’s mind from all directions, driving out all else.

“I am an interdimensional being. The people of your earth might refer to me as an alien or something else. I have one true name, but I am known by many. You may call me Mother.”

“Thank you,” the woman said. She realized that tears were rolling down her cheeks. The beauty of the snake was too much to be contained within her heart. Her joy was spilling over.

“I have chosen you, dear one,” the snake said. It was the softest, kindest voice that the woman had ever heard. “I have chosen you for great things.”