Free Astonishing the Gods by Ben Okri Page B

is born under a blessed star would set sail across the billowing waves and the wild squalls, because of a dream. I love your dream. It is magical. Only those who truly love and who are truly strong can sustain their lives as a dream. You dwell in your own enchantment. Life throws stones at you, but your love and your dream change those stones into the flowers of discovery. Even if you lose, or are defeated by things, your triumph will always be exemplary. And if no one knows it, then there are places that do. People like you enrich the dreams of the world, and it is dreams that create history. People like you are unknowing transformers of things, protected by your own fairy-tale, by love. If it weren’t for this overpowering love of mine, I would praise you better.’

19
    Suddenly, she began weeping. She wept in silence, without moving. He watched her with the moon in his heart.
    When she stopped, he started to speak, but she signalled him to be silent.
    â€˜My love for you makes me so unhappy,’ she said, gently. ‘All these years of yearning have filled me with an unhappy wisdom. May I lie down beside you?’
    â€˜Yes,’ he replied, without knowing why.
    She lay down beside him and her lust spread a curious darkness over the bed. He seemed to be afloat in her desire. He seemed to levitate in her passion. He surrendered his senses to her power. Gently, she made him lie down. Then she whispered these words into his ear:
    â€˜I am the mystery that will unlock your life.’

20
    Her words made him drowsy. He shut his eyes. When he opened them again he found her naked beside him.
    Drawn by the irresistible charm of her flesh, he was moving his hand towards her rich breasts, when the breeze stirred again, gently obliterating the square.
    For a moment a yellow mist filled the open spaces. The equestrian rider seemed to be lost in an appalling fog. Not even his pointed sword was visible. The sea-god was entirely swallowed by the mist. And his steeds, struggling vainly, could not emerge from the yellow pall.
    The palace itself was now a thing discernible only by its dim battlements and its flag, barely fluttering in the breeze, sending its sign all around the city. The mist had climbed the high walls and softened the face of its stone. The palace seemed to be dissolving under the passion of the yellow fog.
    Only the head of the prophet-king was visible, and his anxiety seemed more pronounced.
    Again she whispered into his ears.
    â€˜I will give you all the secrets of life on this special night. Everything you need to know is within me. Are you comfortable? Do you see how everything is succumbing to our dream? Will you make love to me? I desire you to do so. I desire that we share one another’s mystery.’
    Without saying another word she entangled him with her hot legs, entangled him with her beautiful lust. Her loins were warm, and her breasts trembled. He caressed her soft and voluptuous body. She drew him closer and pressed him into the wild warmth of her breasts.
    But just as their lips were going to meet and merge, he noticed that the square was now totally obscure. The marble floor, the palace gate, the distant spires, the head of the prophet-king, were all now in yellow darkness. Only the loggia seemed the same.

21
    Without knowing why, touched by a breeze which brought unspoken words from the abyss beneath the invisible bridge, he pulled back from the passion of the mysterious woman. He sat up straight, shook his head vigorously, and said:
    â€˜Please accept this rose from me as a token of profound gratitude. Your words have moved me more than I can say. And your love – your love is wonderful.’
    He picked up the rose from where it lay, next to the diamond glass. He offered it to her with a smile. She accepted it silently.
    In a different voice, full of sadness and compassion, and yet quite firm, he said:
    â€˜The night was enchanted, but now it is filled with mist. It