Free The Revenant Road by Michael Boatman

phrase had been emblazoned, also in gold: Lux Defensor .
    “To defend the light,” I whispered.
    Kowalski nodded. “Smart guy.”
    He put the brass key in the lock and turned it.
    A series of deep thumps reverberated through the air beneath Kalakuta, the sound a boulder rolling down a flight of stone stairs might make shook the earth beneath my feet.
    Kowalski placed his right hand in the center of the door.
    I grabbed his arm, my heart pounding.
    “Neville,” I said. “Will I discover the truth about my father behind this door?”
    Kowalski smiled. “You might discover the truth about yourself behind this door,” he said.  “The question is, will you know the truth when it comes for you?”
    I studied the iron door for a moment, knowing even then that once I walked through it there would be no turning back. I turned and looked back up the long staircase. In the distance, far above our heads, the glow from Kowalski’s kitchen looked as remote as the light from a distant star.
    I turned back to the iron door.
    “Open it.”
    Kowalski nodded and pushed open the door.
    Golden light filled the dark platform.
    “Oh...my... God ,” I said.
    I walked into the room, following the light.
    “Lux defensor, Junior,” Kowalski said.
    Then he slammed the door behind me.
    The room had been hollowed out of the native rock beneath Kalakuta. The walls, floor, and ceiling glimmered, their crystalline surfaces reflecting the light that emanated from a raised stone platform in the room’s center.
    The source of the light stood in the center of the platform.
    It was a woman.
    A tall, magnificently built black woman. She was naked, her skull shaved bald, her arms resting lightly at her sides. The flickering, multicolored light shone from her face; power raged about her head like a swirling halo of purest starshine. One look at the woman was enough to confirm that she wasn’t remotely human. 
    The starwoman was over six feet tall, straight of limb and square of shoulder with the body of an African Amazon. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back as if she’d been frozen, immobilized in a moment of rapture, or agony.
    My eyes traveled the length of the starwoman’s body, the curve of her hips, the flat stomach and full breasts, finally coming to rest on the hilt of a knife: The iron handle of a large blade protruded from the area just above the starwoman’s left breast.
    I staggered forward, my right hand extended.
    So beautiful , I thought.
    I was burning, aflame with the desire to possess the starwoman, protect her from whoever had betrayed her and caused her such agony. The hilt of the blade assaulted my senses like an abomination.
    My rage blinded me to the danger: I ignored the flashing motes of light as they began to swirl around me.  My quest for understanding fell to tatters. My life was unimportant. I had been born for only one reason: to pull the knife from the starwoman’s breast.
    The swirling motes of light rose up, surrounded me, filling my vision, blocking my view of my beloved. My vision grew fuzzy and I became disoriented. There was a sensation of movement, of massive shapes moving through the walls of Kalakuta. Then the floor dropped away beneath me.
    I rose, screaming as I was spun toward the ceiling of the cave. I threw up my arms and squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact that would smash my brains out.
    A moment later, I felt wind rushing past me. I opened my eyes and found myself cartwheeling into the open sky, tumbling literally head over heels, up and away from the cave and the starwoman. I shut my eyes again as I whirled, tossed about on the wind, rocketing upward...upward, then down, falling, really falling .  
    I hit the ground hard enough to pound the air from my lungs. I lay on my face gasping for air. Scarlet airbursts detonated behind my eyes and I fluttered on the edge of consciousness. After an eternity, my chest loosened and I was able to snatch a raw breath. The flow of fresh