by J G Smith
“Yeah,” I answer.
Jennifer pops back into the room. “Bradley, keep an eye on him, please?” she asks.
“Sure, Jen. He’s on my radar,” he says with his signature penetrating smile. He waits for her to leave before he continues to speak. “I always have you on my radar,” he tells me. “Well, I try.”
I chuckle at his remark and notice that my side isn’t hurting.
“Everyone’s been worried,” he says. “We still don't really know what happened.”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve been out for a day,” he begins, looking down. A day? I try keeping it cool, for him, but alarm bells go off in my head. Is everyone okay?
“The nurses say you and Dylan were both electrocuted somehow,” he continues. “And whatever caused it surged everything in and around the restroom.”
It was me. I did that.
“How’s Dylan?” I ask, genuinely concerned, remembering Steve.
“He's fine,” says Bradley. “He’s in the next room with his dad. They said the two of you would be good to go after your morning checks.”
I'm glad.
“They also asked a lot of questions about your side,” he adds. “But we sorted that one out, sort of.”
“Thank you,” I say.
He straightens the creases he made on the bed. “Rob,” I can hear things becoming serious. “I know your mom just asked, but this is me. What’s going on?”
Our eyes lock. I don’t know what to tell him. I don’t know if he’ll believe me and I don’t want to put him in danger.
He realises that I won’t be answering his question, not now, at least, and reminds me that he’s there for me, no matter what. “Unlike Kyle,” he states, “who went home with his dad.” He takes a moment and adds, “Not even Steve could convince him to stay. I don’t know what’s up with them. They’re not as tight as before.”
The readings on my vitals monitor spike. I can’t tell if I'm angry, sad or afraid. Perhaps all three? Knowing that their relationship has estranged, however, brings me a sense of comfort. Lighkame may be able to take memories, but he cannot clone a bond or personality.
“You sure you’re okay?” asks Bradley.
“I’m sure,” I tell him. My vitals normalise.
I ask Bradley where Steve is. He tells me that he’s outside with Skye, her parents and the girl.
“He hasn’t done anything strange?” I ask.
Bradley frowns. “Like what?” he asks.
That answers my question. “Nothing,” I say.
“Okay…” he mutters. “The strangest thing right now is that girl you found. First, she doesn't even know her name. Second, have you seen her eat? She doesn’t even understand the whole person concept. She’s been fighting to see you.”
He tells me that social services will arrive later in the day and that I’m still a suspect for vandalism. He also tells me that they’re looking for the gate guard. Apparently, we were the last to see him. Right. But, telling them what actually happened, I imagine, would open a whole other can of worms.
There’s a knock on the door. A nurse enters. “Mr Peters,” she says. “It’s good to see that you’re awake. I’m Lady Arathea. Is this a good time?”
“Yes… yes, it is,” beam Bradley and I in unison.
“I'm here to do your morning check before visiting hours start. You have quite the eager group of visitors.”
She asks a couple of questions, compares her own checks to the monitor and makes a few notes. I’m in the clear. “The doctor will be here at nine to discharge you,” she reports.
She opens the door and lets my visitors in.
“I’m gonna find out if they’ll let me in to see Dylan,” says Bradley. “I’ll be back soon.”
There are verbal greetings and a kiss on the forehead from Skye. I like that part. Lighkame stands at the corner of the room, still disguised as Steve, and the girl hovers at the door. She looks uncomfortable—out of place.
Skye’s parents say they’ll give us a moment, leaving the four of us alone in the room. Or, rather, leaving the three of us alone with Lighkame. Not that they know anything about it.
“Skye,” I whisper, detaching my cords to the vitals monitor. I can only keep myself calm in front of Lighkame for so long. “We didn’t get to talk.”
“We can talk later,” she says, softly.
“I need to tell you now,” I say, still whispering. My heart beats a little faster. Then, it dawns on me. Lighkame has never done anything in front of other people before. Always alone.
“What is it?” she asks, even softer, noticing my eyes fixed on Steve.
“You said you saw something coming,” I remind her. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but that feeling is coming back. I need to know. “Did it have anything to do with him?”
“Steve?”
She’s an oracle; surely, she knows. “That isn’t Steve,” I tell her. I’m growing desperate and, as much as I want to keep her out of it… I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing, but if she knows something…
“Then where’s Steve?” she asks, softly and slowly. Her expectant glare tugs at my heart. I can barely hold back the tears, and she can see it. Again, she pierces with her glare and flares her brows as if to beg the words, “Talk to me!”
I don’t. Instead, I swallow. My face turns red and tears fill my eyes.
Lighkame takes a step forward and Skye’s face contorts. She knows. Her eyes open wide. “Steve is dead?!” she bawls, as softly as she can.
The mystery girl looks over to him. She heard that. “Is that him?” she asks, referring to our brief conversation about Lighkame. She steps away from him slowly, even before I give an answer.
I nod yes and then turn my focus back to Skye. “You said you saw something,” I repeat. The ghost’s voice echoes inside my head. “Are you the Arcane Messenger?” I ask.
The look of horror spreads across her face. She knows that title. Is that what she wanted to speak to me about?
“I didn’t want to do it,” breaks Lighkame. His eyes glow red. “I just needed a way to get closer to you.”
Skye moves closer to me, more composed than before, while the girl moves closer to the wall.
He sees the fear on their faces. What confuses me is the look on his. He doesn’t like what he sees. Is he feeling guilty?
“I don’t want to kill you, Robert,” says Lighkame. “I only want to go home. All I ever wanted was to go back home.”
There’s a lull. He looks to the floor, then his hands—Steve’s hands. “Steve’s memories of you made my only plan harder to fulfil.”
Lighkame has a conscience?
“But I need to go home.” His face grows fierce.
Then, “Poios eísai?” A lady speaks as she steps into the room, out of nowhere. She’s dressed in a silver gown with a notepad and pen in her hands. She scans the room as if lost. “Aftó den eínai to Kéntro Promithéas,” she says, shaking.
What language is she speaking?
Lighkame turns to look at her and says, “Another one.” A grin enthrones his face. “There may be another way after all.”
The lady steps back and vanishes. Lighkame follows and disappears as well.
“What was that?” asks the girl.
Another world? There’s a glimmer of light over the spot where they vanished with the space around it appearing distorted for a moment.
I look at Skye with worry. Though, she doesn’t appear to be fazed by what just happened. She looks at me and, with a serious tone, declares, “The Arcane Messenger is the one who’s going to kill you.”
I—I… The girl looks at Skye, clearly hearing what was said, but I can’t tell if she’s surprised or confused. Jennifer and Stephen then enter the room with Bradley, Skye’s parents and a doctor, and… we don’t say a word. Though, they can see something’s the matter.
CHAPTER SEVEN
PREDATOR
Find the Arcane Messenger.
&nbs
p; That’s all I have written in my journal. I try writing more, but my fingers fumble on the page. The images play on my mind, but the words don’t come. Who is she? I wonder, with the ghost’s voice echoing at the back of my mind. Will finding her bring any answers? Or simply bring about Skye’s ominous forecast?
“Dylan’s on the phone with his mom for the other stuff,” says Bradley, entering the tent with Dylan’s bag. We decided, after being discharged, that we would stay. Though, I can’t imagine that it’ll be much of a vacation with the investigation going on. “At least they left us with two tents and the grill, right?” adds Bradley, referring to Mr Salensburg and Kyle.
As Bradley comes close, I close my journal (quickly), as if to hide a terrible secret. I am, but the look on his face makes it real. I feel guilty for not telling him.
“Relax,” assures Bradley, with a broken smile. “I’m not going to read your journal.”
He’s being supportive; he’s always been supportive. However, the longer I stay quiet, the harder it’ll be for us to get back to where we were. Our friendship has already started taking strain. I can see it, even if he says it’s okay.
He places Dylan’s bag alongside ours and says that lunch is almost ready. I put my journal away and step outside with him.
David is still on the phone with Steve’s mother. That might take a while. My mind, however, is on the hospital and the footage the tour guides requested. Skye, the girl and I decided it’d be easier that way—for the adults to see what happened themselves… to see where Steve went. I was then urged to tell Bradley before. Apparently, Skye says, he needs to hear it from me.
Craig and Diane are preparing an early lunch for us at the grill. And that’s where Bradley is headed, to help. As I follow, Dylan stops me, no longer on the phone with his mother. “Just because I didn’t say anything in my interview,” he mutters, “doesn’t mean I didn’t see what happened.”
He catches me off-guard. I’m not quite sure what to say.
“You’re the reason we ended up in hospital,” he whispers, trying to keep the conversation between the two of us. “And I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew where Steve was—and why he’s been behaving so arbitrarily.”
My mouth opens, but my tongue is tied. He kept my secret, even though he clearly doesn’t want to be a part of it. He walks away, a little frustrated, but without expecting a reply. He just wanted me to know that he knew and, perhaps, that he was tired of covering for me.
Bradley waves me over to the grill, to assist in dishing up. He also lied for me in his interview. He told the tour guides that I didn’t know anything more than what I was saying.
“How are your parents with all of this?” I ask Bradley.
“They’re holding up,” he begins. “They’re just a little anxious with flights being grounded.”
“Any news as to why?” I ask.
“Something about an electromagnetic interference just above the airport,” he says, shrugging.
“That’s interesting,” I tell him. “I hope it isn’t serious.”
“Should be fine,” he adds, smirking.
Stephen and Jennifer aren’t around anymore. They returned to the Freestone Hotel even before the interviews.
Craig and Diane gather Skye and the girl while Dylan collects his dad, now finished with Steve’s mom on the phone. There is stress written all over his face.
Skye’s parents ask her to bless the meal, as is customary in the Falgron faith. She, out of respect, turns to David and the others for approval before continuing. My eyes stay open as she prays and turn to the girl. Her eyes are open as well, still trying to take everything in. What’s she thinking about? I wonder.
Skye ends her prayer and everyone begins eating, splitting off into smaller groups. David chats with Skye’s parents and Dylan with Bradley. I stare at them, worrying that Dylan says something to Bradley before I have the chance. Dylan notices and simply glares in my direction.
“Have you told him?” asks Skye, looking back and forth between me and them.
“Not yet,” I mutter. “I don’t even know how to tell him. And what if he doesn’t believe me?”
“You know he loves you,” she points out.
“I love him too,” I respond. “That’s why this is so difficult. I mean, if anything happened to him…”
“Like Steve?” she says, completing my sentence.
“I don’t think I could handle it.”
“He’s going to find out anyway,” she says, pushing me to tell him. “And something tells me he needs to hear it from you.”
“I know,” I whisper. “I’ve gone over it with myself a hundred times. I’m going to tell him. I just…”
“Surely, it’s easier now that Lighkame is gone?” she asks, placing the thought.
“Not for long,” emerges the girl, clearly listening in.
“What do you mean?” asks Skye, speaking directly to the girl.
“I saw him,” she says. “In a vision, maybe. Wherever he is, he won’t find answers there. He’s going to come back.”
Wait, she sees the future as well? Could she be the Arcane Messenger? I think to myself. At this point, it’s either her or Skye.
“You still need to tell him,” insists Skye, fixed in her determination.
“What do you suggest I do?” I ask the girl.
Skye is dismayed and doesn’t hide it.
“I don’t know about you,” says the girl, “but I won’t be staying.” She explains that she had a dream about a boy, a tomb and a building in the middle of the forest. “I need to find him,” she reports. There’s a sense of urgency in her tone. “Or at least his tomb.”
What grabs my attention most is the title she says was inscribed on the tomb: The GiniFowl Herald. She spells it out, because she doesn’t know if she can pronounce it correctly. I ask if it wasn’t G-U-I-N-E-A, out of sincere curiosity, but this frustrates her royally. I’m taken aback. I mean, we have guineafowls in Haigunda; it could be the same thing.
She glares. I’m not getting anywhere.
But that’s beside the point. Hearing about a G-I-N-I-Fowl herald fuels a naïve hope of finding the Arcane Messenger. I mean, the ghost did mention something about a herald. The thought plagues my mind. “I’ll come with you,” I tell the girl.
“What?!” booms Skye’s voice. “You can’t be serious. How would you even get there?”
The girl then pulls a key out from her pocket.
Skye takes a step back. “What is that?” she asks.
“I took it from the tour guide that questioned me,” answers the girl. She then, curious to know, asks, “Why are your tour guides acting like police officers?”
“Police officers only work on serious and public cases,” I tell her, trying to understand why it’s even a question. “This is a private facility. Anything that happens in Phantom Forest Incorporated or to any one of their guests is their responsibility.”
She doesn’t quite seem to understand, but Skye doesn’t offer me the opportunity to elaborate. “If they find out you took that key,” warns Skye, undeterred by the girl’s question, “there’s going to be a lot of trouble. A lot more trouble than we’re going to be in when they find out we’ve lied about Steve.”
It doesn’t seem to make a difference. “I need to find out what that dream was about,” says the girl. “If it tells me even a little about where I came from, it’s worth a shot.”
“And if it helps me find the Arcane Messenger, I agree.”
“You can’t be serious,” interjects Skye.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
She shakes her head. “It’s not a good idea,” she tells me in a stern yet accepting tone. “But I’ll let it happen. You’re already involved.” She pauses, then adds, “Will you, at least, tell Bradley?”
I look over at him and, perfect timing, he looks over at me. “I will,” I tell her. But not everything. Not yet.
We finish eating our lunch and agree that Skye will create t
he distraction, after I finish with Bradley. The girl will wait.
I take the opportunity to approach Bradley when Dylan leaves his side. He greets me with a soft and dragged out, “Hey.” I follow with the same.
“I see you were having a good talk down there,” he says, making conversation.
“Yeah,” I answer, a little nervous. “Listen. I need to tell you something.”
His hand takes its welcome place on my shoulder. He bottles his frustration and even looks around to make sure no one else is listening. “What is it?” he asks, softly.
“Steve won’t be coming back,” I tell him.
“What?” he asks. “Did he say something? Do you know where he went?”
“Brad,” I begin. “Trust me. If anything comes back, looking like him, it isn’t.”
His eyes open wide. “Rob,” I hear the concern in his voice. “What do you know?”
“When things are safer,” I tell him, “we’ll talk about it. Right now, I want you to know that Steve won’t be coming back. And, if he does, it isn’t him.”
“Rob,” he calls, growing more and more concerned. “What’s going on?”
“Just promise me, if you see anything strange, stay away.” I don’t want Bradley knowing anything that could get him in danger; any more than I’ve just put him in.
“Where are you going?” he asks, more worried than before.
“I’ll be coming back,” I tell him. “Just stay safe until I return.”
I start walking away, towards the girl, but he holds me back. Our eyes meet for a moment before he hugs me and pleads, “Let me come with you.”
I don’t say a word.
“I’m being serious,” he pushes. He’s not going to budge.
I have to do this, I think to myself. “I just have a few things to get from the tent,” I tell him, forcing a smile. “Come with me?”
He agrees and enters the tent first. I signal for Skye to begin her distraction. “Did you tell him,” she asks.
“Just distract him,” I beg. “No one else is looking.”
She sees the guilt in my eyes and says my name disappointedly.
