It was Simi's commitment to Jaylon—to be loyal to his cause. Not only because he had convinced her of his sincerity and bold beliefs, but because her young and eager heart was falling in love with this enigmatic young man, who—though strong and independent, seemed more of an innocent boy at times. He had on every occasion of their meeting shown her candidly his deliciously quiet and cool mannerisms. For Jaylon had convinced her that in the eternal war between light and dark, night and day, and of which they were both elements of the dark side, the world could not function without their integral part. As he explained it to her, within every extreme pole in the universe and all of humanity, there are pieces of one inside the other. An opposite side embedded in any element which brings to the whole a necessary balance to life.

Simi was sitting with Jaylon outside the town in the semi-darkness, and under the trees that next early evening. He had taken her to the secluded spot to discuss the recent event which had rocked the little town—namely the senseless murder of the old and reclusive Dionysia. He told her it was time for her to know more about her own part in the unfolding series of events which would become more intense, affecting more than just Madrid, he insisted.

They sat in the cooling air on an old picnic table which had long been abandoned by summer tourists for a more scenic area, and a closer walk into town.

"You and I were going to meet eventually," he told her, looking down at the weather-beaten wooden table, as if reading its grainy surface. "When I felt your presence, from over in the town of Golden, where I stay . . . I knew I had to go and meet you. To tell you things I've learned over much time."

Jaylon's soft but resonant voice was hypnotic to Simi. She felt like he was unlike any other person she had ever met. And after their passionate kiss that wonderful night not so long ago, and briefly just the evening before, she knew somehow he would remain a huge part of her life, no matter where their paths led them.

"How long Jaylon? How long ago has all this been happening? And how do you know of it?"

"I can only say over many lifetimes," he answered, as usual, cryptically. He took her hand in his and hesitated telling her more. "Just know that we will never be like the others, Simi. But there are some in the world just like us . . . here and in many places."

Jaylon's soft voice and warm manner compelled her to move closer to him.

"Throughout the world.," he continued. "You see . . . we are rare, but very necessary. Nature has always kept this balance with us. It is our purpose to fight for it."

Jaylon put his arm around her to shield her bare arms from the wind which was coming up off the cooling desert below. It caused the leaves on the branches above them to rustle in erratic gusts.

"I have always felt this," Simi replied. "Since I was young I knew there was some strange purpose to my difference from others. My parents are ashamed of me sometimes . . . because I have things about me they do not understand."

"All of us . . . down trough time have fought this, Simi. First with our parents and then with the people we must live with in villages and the biggest cities. Those who make the rules and work their institutions against us. But once we are told by a messenger of this purpose we have, and to enter the battle when it comes or way, we no longer care what others say or believe about us.

"Are you . . . that messenger, Jaylon. That messenger to me?"

"Yes. I was sent to find you. To tell you these things. You too will be a messenger someday for others."

Simi was quiet. Calmly accepting. She leaned closer to him and put her head on his shoulder. It was warm and comforting. She felt protected and strangely content so near him again, as if she had known this reserved, brooding boy all her life. She could perceive that Jaylon had an attractive, indefinable scent about him. She had noticed it on two other occasions when he had held her closely in his arms. It was a smell of the mountains. Of the fresh spring air tinged with wild blossoms which she had known since childhood. There was also infused with that mix another manlier aroma—of his skin, again indefinable, yet redolent and strangely stimulating to her.

"You must know these things, Simi. And how they relate to what's going on here in your village. It's been going on for thousands of years. And it all began so far away. Another place and time. It came from other continents and was brought here by the first explorers. Then, the people who settled these lands carried it within them. It's a way of war . . . a battle between two sides of our existence . . . a timeless war. And its within and without the whole universe naturally . . . nothing is stopping it. We can only fight for our side"

She looked up into Jaylon's intense eyes as he spoke. He communicated these details to her with such conviction. Tenets for what he saw as his life's mission.

"And it's as old as we are creatures, Simi. For all of nature has these great forces which collide and try to overpower each other. All in a great engine of fire—burning and changing."

A chill came over her shoulders. "I have read of the troubles women like me had in the past, Jaylon. What was done to them. Just because they resisted those forces. The Church and governments tried to stamp them out. Torturing, burning, and drowning them as witches. My great grandmother was said to be one . . . witch. And she was murdered here in Madrid. Dionysia was shot in the mountains above us because of her connection to nature and my Theresa's dark arts fifty years before. Is this what will happen to me, Jaylon?"

"Not if I can guide and protect you. Be near and assist you. You have become precious to me now Simi. For it is my duty to be here. With you in your time now."

Simi knew and could understand that any other girl hearing these words from such an outsider of her town, and with such a questionable manifesto would fear any involvement with this young man. She would no doubt flee from him. Back to her parents or the authorities. Institutions like churches, the police and schools which had always been on the lookout for any disturbances--or any cross-currents to their established order. For the very books the journalist Cody had given her before the summer which now she had read in their entirety, gave the unsightly history of bloodshed, inquisitions and trials by ordeal falsely set up to capture such a dark force. Now it seemed the force was again in the cross-hairs of an unofficial tribunal, right there in the high desert of New Mexico.

"So we have much to do. And much now to lookout for," Jaylon continued. "The death of the old woman was a sign that the war again rages on. Much as it once flared up around your great grandmother here, Simi. You are certainly to be the target of any new offensive, at least in these parts. And that is why I have come. That is why I am with you. Here and now."

Jaylon jumped off the table. He took her hand and began to lead her back to his Harley Davidson parked and silenced nearby. But Simi was not content to hear him speak only of duty. Of her protection, inspired by a cause she was now an integral part of. For she saw him now as much more. Someone whom her young heart and soul felt an urgent and inspired attraction to. There were stirrings in her that remained undefined, yet strongly awakened by his solitary presence. And she wanted to explore them further, and share them with Jaylon.

As they neared his motorcycle, she could sense he felt it his duty was to get her back to the streets of Madrid and to her home before nightfall. Simi then felt it the best time to inform him of something he himself had perhaps not considered.

She paused before getting onto his bike and instead reached out with both of her hands for his. He obliged, and held them tightly, expressively.

"Jaylon," she whispered. "I want to thank you for your protection and concern for me."

She pulled him closer with both hands so that his face was close to hers. He waited for what she was about to say.

"I think you should know that . . . I'm willing to fight any battle alongside you. And what's more, I'll do it with all my strength. But . . . you must also know something else."

"Yes . . ?"

"And . . . I'm not really experienced at it. But . . ."

"Yes, Simi?"

"Well . . . I'm pretty sure I . . . I have fallen in love with you."

She bit her lower lip, having made such a poignant and heartfelt admission.

Jaylon smiled somewhat condescendingly and then, disappointingly, kissed her only sweetly on the cheek. It was a light and reserved gesture, as if she were only his younger sister.

Simi waited with great desire for the more passionate kiss she had experienced on other magic nights with him. But on this evening, for reasons known only to Jaylon, it did not come. He started his bike with a powerful kick and helped her onto the leather seat behind him. With a thunderous roar the young messenger proceeded to ferry Simi to the doorstep of her house. He then disappeared as he always did, mysteriously, and alone into the night.

* * *