”Cindi rose, picked up the face soap and did face, ears, and throat while I re-lathered the mitt and began on myself.As I stepped out of the shower Cindi was just finishing daintily daubing herself with the towel. I took it out of her hand and snapped her ass with it, eliciting a loud yelp.“You’re wasting time. Get in the kitchen, baby bitch. Ham and cheese and whatever omelet for me and whatever you’d like for you. Coffee. Surprise me with a fruit juice. I want to be done with breakfast within an hour. Go.”«“Less talk, more action.”» She did that, not me. With no more than a passing glance at her wet hair in the mirror, she was off and running.When I emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later dressed in jeans and polo shirt, wonderful smells were coming from the kitchen, and coffee service was waiting by the couch.Stepping into the kitchen, I kissed Cindi deeply, a promise for later, and gave her some commands to streamline her breakfast: permission to use cups, implicit permission. ”I unconsciously shuddered as I recalled her telling me how I could have died when A’komi slipped the ring on my finger and decided to take a short break.Looking out from the mountain where I had settled on a convenient log, I stared at the sea as I considered details of her story that I had not considered before.Paramount among them was why I hadn’t died when A’komi slipped on the ring.When Narvenia and Spiro had transferred my being into the brain-dead Michael, along with my mind and all my memories, they had given me a new life in a new time. But nothing they had done, had any connection whatsoever with ancient Tapato or their Protector. So why had the ring not killed me?“Maybe the ring had somehow lost its power to destroy over time,” I thought. However, the only way I could think of to test that theory was to find some male with a death wish to try touching the ring. I then considered a couple of other theories, each more outlandish than the first, before I conceded that I wasn’t.
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