I couldn’t breathe. It was as though an enormous weight was pressing down on my chest, immobilizing me, pushing me deeper into the mattress of my bed. Lights kept flashing, cutting glowing images on the insides of my eyelids. They were images of Ingrid’s face, contorted in agony, of Kam’s rage, of Professor Zultner’s look of despondency when she found out that the ‘Thing’ was one step ahead of us. Then there was the hissing sound and the red eyes flying everywhere and the black oozing substance. I was trying to cover me, to smother me. With an immense effort, I clawed my way up into consciousness, and sat up in my bed gasping.

It was a dream, I thought frantically, just a dream, and then a big figure sitting in a chair in the corner of the room moved. At first I thought it was the Thing, but relaxed when I realized it was just Kam.

“Kam?”  My eyes were blurry so I rubbed the sleep out of them and tried to focus. The big fellow was leaning forward smiling.

“You had us all worried.”

I sat up and noticed that almost every muscle in my body hurt. Reaching up, I rubbed my neck, where I had been dragged along when the spider got its leg hooked on my cape. “It’s true, then, all of it?”

“It’s true,” he paused reinforcing my fear, “all of it.”

Urgently, I swung my legs over the side of the bed.  I wasn’t dressed. “My clothes?”

“Had to get rid of your outfit, sorry. The Professor is worried that the Thing may have imprinted on it. No costumes for awhile.”

Kam handed me my housecoat, which I pulled myself painfully into. “Ingrid, is she all right?”

Kam was smiling. “She's all right, but I don’t know if you’re going to be all right.”

I wasn’t in the mood to play games. “Could you just tell me,” I said tersely.

Kam placed a hand up to his ear and looked at me mischievously. “Is that a shower that I hear?”

Sure enough, the shower was running. Then I noticed that there was a slight impression in the bed beside me and that the sheets were tangled up in a strange, uncommon way. I didn't sleep like that. The washroom door opened and out stepped Ingrid, hair and body wrapped up in towels. My mouth fell open.

“Well, my job is done here,” said Kam in a smug, satisfied sort of way as he backed out the door. “You kids be good.” He was gone, leaving me feeling distinctly aware that the only thing between me and Ingrid was my thin bathrobe and a towel.

“Ah, well, this is awkward, isn’t it? You feeling all right? I mean it’s not every day that you get attacked by a – ‘Thing’. You’re here...”

Ingrid smiled. “I’m glad you noticed.”

“We slept together?”

She nodded, a sad expression clouding her face.

My heart plummeted. “You didn’t like sleeping with me. I understand...”

“No,” she stepped towards me and let go of the towel which almost fell to the floor. “It’s not like that. It can never be like that...”

Again, I felt the discomfort of my naked body beneath the bathrobe. “Maybe we should get dressed,” I suggested prudently.

“I think that would be a good idea. You need to understand a few things about the bonding.”

So, we had slept together, but I didn’t remember anything. I went to my dresser and grabbed some clothes and stepped into the kitchen. Slipping into my underwear, jeans and T-shirt, I went to the kettle filled it with water and plugged it in.

“Do you want any tea?” I called into the bedroom. “I’ve got some chamomile.”

“That would be nice,” she called back.

As I set the two cups, with their accompanying bags, onto the table, Ingrid stepped into the kitchen. She was wearing the exact same clothes as I was - jeans and a white T-shirt.

“Ah, you’re wearing the same clothes as me...wait, those are my clothes...”

She sat down,straight and stiff,  just as the kettle started to steam. I knew the look; it was why I didn’t date. Everything in the relationship would be going along, just fine, and then they would find out things. Like how I was rather obsessive about cleaning, and keeping everything in its proper place. When I had seen the rumpled sheets beside me, I had to immediately suppress the compulsion to make the bed. She was going to break up with me.

“I have to explain things to you.”

“Does it involve that ‘Thing’ that tried to kill you?”

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“Yes.”

“Does it involve your last boyfriend, who is no longer with us?”

“Yes. Look, stop asking questions, and just listen.”

I got up because the kettle began to scream at us, which was appropriate because that's how I was feeling inside. I carefully poured the water, making sure that the bags were lined up identically and the tea level was the same. “Sorry,” I apologized.

“Sorry, for what?”

“I don’t know, just sorry.”

She reached across the table and touched my hand. It was nice, the physical contact, but I jumped, pulling back my hands. It was as though a spark of electricity had leapt from her into me.

“There’s a lot of questions that I need answered, like, why are you sleeping here, like we’re married.”

She picked up the string on the tea bag and proceeded to dip it up and down encouraging the pale yellow of the herb to leech out. Fixing me with her eyes, she shrugged. “Because in a way, we are married. Please, let me explain.”

“Please, do.” I felt it, finally felt the sense that I was going to get answers to some of my questions.

“I suppose I should begin with my last partner.” She saw me stiffen. “It was a long time ago, a very long time ago.”

“How long?” I asked cautiously.

“Over two hundred years.”

“I’m sorry, but I still find it hard to believe that you’re over two hundred years old.”

“It’s a side effect of what we do. You are the Pen and I am the Sword,” she explained taking a tentative sip of the tea. “It’s hot.”

“So, your last partner was also a Pen. Maybe you should tell me everything from the beginning.”

“All right, from the beginning. You know how the theory of evolution has humanity evolving from one form to another?”

“I’m familiar with it, yes.”

“It’s wrong. The earth, as we know it has been subjected to a number of invasions, of settlements from other worlds. The Thing that we fought last night is from one of these invasions.”

“If it’s an invasion, then there must be others.”

“It’s like a Queen Bumble bee. When winter comes all the bees die, except the Queen. When summer comes, the Queen emerges and begins to procreate.”

I was beginning to catch on with what she was saying. “So, winter was for two hundred years, and now, it’s summer?”

“Yes.” She took a longer drink from the chamomile.

“So, how did your last partner die?”

“He wrote the Thing into sleep. It is the Pen’s job, to write the Thing to sleep. If he doesn’t do this, then this species will take over the earth.” She held up her hand to stop my next question. “This is hard enough as it is, please let me continue.”

I took a sip and felt the heat and the relaxing effect of the herb gently massage my screaming mind. Although I wanted to know the truth, I was beginning to wonder if that was such a great idea.

“He didn’t have to die, but he got caught. He wasn’t able to get clear of his words and was pulled into the tomb which would contain the Thing. I was responsible for this. I didn’t do my job. I hesitated.”

I wanted to alleviate the stress she was obviously going through. “I’m sure you tried your best.”

Her hands curled into fists. “My best wasn’t enough, and now there’s you. What if...what if...”

I placed my hand over hers but this time, instead of feeling the electricity, I felt her relax. It was almost as though I was able to dissolve the anxiety she was experiencing. It gave me a strange, bubbly feeling. “What does a Sword do?”

“The Sword, protects the Pen, gives him the time to lock the Thing away, for another two hundred years. What you have to understand is we have never been able to figure out how to destroy the Thing, only put it into a type of stasis.”

“How does this Thing procreate?”

“You saw a bit of it in the gym, last night. It covers its victims in a black tarry substance, then it inserts and egg into the host. When the egg matures and takes over the host, the substance melts away. It happens very quickly, minutes.”

“What does it look like, when it hatches out?”

“That’s the problem. The creature retains the body of the host, so, had the Thing succeeded with me or the Professor, they would look exactly like us. The only good thing is that it can only do this on Egyptian Days."

"What are those?" It was the first time I had heard the term.

"Anciently, Egyptian Astrologers identified two days each month that were 'evil days.' They were called Dies Mali, dismal. Professor Zultner belives this thing has been around a very long time, and people have been fighting it throughout antiquity. Last night was September the third. The next Dies Mali is on the twenty third. Wehave some time before it tries again.”

“All this is interesting, but it still doesn’t explain why you ended up sleeping in my bed and saying we’re married.”

I always found Ingrid attractive and now, even more so. She must have read my thoughts because she blushed.

“Did you look at the bed?”

“Did I look at the bed?” I repeated. “Should I?”

She nodded. "It would explian things."

I got up and went into the bedroom. Usually, I’m very fastidious about making my bed: tight sheets, hospital corners, pillows placed properly and the duvet fluffed to complete a pleasing scene. When I slept, or was about to go to sleep, I liked the promising visual invitation. Right now, the bed was still a mess.  I grabbed the covers and shook them, and that’s when I saw it, the green piece of cloth that Zultner had bound our hands with, the same material that Ingrid wore in her hair. I returned to the kitchen and sat back down in my chair. She was looking at me expectantly.

“Why is the green scarf running down the center of the bed?”

“While it is the thing that binds us together," she began slowly, "it is also the thing that keeps us apart.”

She continued to look at me expectantly, not wanting to say anything more, waiting for me to figure it out.

Then it dawned on me. “So, I’m taking we have to live together?”

“Yes, the Thing will know that we are the only ones standing in its way between succeeding in repopulating this earth. Besides, you have to learn how to lock the creature back in its tomb and I need to train.”

“So, we have to sleep together, but we can’t – sleep together...” I waited.

She nodded. “That is correct. If we were to...then we would break the bond that unites us. You would cease to be The Pen, I would cease to be The Sword, and the earth would be condemned to fall victim to this invasion.”

“And we have to sleep together?”

Ingrid nodded. “It is essential. It is the only way for you to learn how to do what you need to learn to do.”

“And, how long has this been going on?”

“Ever since the Knights of Z were founded to combat this thing.”

“The Knights of what?”

She got up, came around the table bent over and kissed me on the cheek. The smell of her was intoxicating.

“We should go; we are going to be late for class.”

I looked at my watch and realized that we did indeed have a class, Professor Zultner’s class.

This was going to be very difficult, but I took sad solace in the fact that Ingrid was The Sword. Hopefully she wouldn’t have to use it on me.