The Blinded Journey
Page 20
“What about me then? I don’t have magical powers,” Flora sounded upset.
“You’ve got your own kind of magic; I know I’ve felt it,” Kendel heard the pain in Flora’s voice, and wanted to alleviate her wound.
“You really are smooth,” Flora said as she squeezed him. “That was very nice, very charming. But how will I go through the magical door.”
“What if I carried you?” Kendel suggested.
“Like a groom carrying a bride into the honeymoon suite?” Flora asked immediately. “Are you proposing marriage?”
Kendel was speechless for a moment, until Flora laughed.
“No smooth comeback to that one, I hear. I’m game to try your idea. Let’s turn you around and point you in the right direction,” Flora suggested, as she stepped back out of their embrace.
“Okay, stoop a little bit, stretch your arms out, and don’t drop me!” Flora laughed before she placed her arms around his neck and hopped up into his grasp, as he rose from his stoop.
“You’re really not heavy at all,” he commented and he began to walk forward.
Before Flora could answer, they encountered the bright green light once more, making them both gasp.
“Kendel, you look different,” Flora said.
“So do you,” Kendel answered as he continued to walk, and within another step the green light vanished.
“Oh, what happened?” Flora asked. “You could see me?” she belatedly responded to his comment. “Is your blindness cured?”
They were back in the darkness, Kendel still carrying Flora as he walked forward, aware that he could put her down, but finding comfort in holding her, feeling her body pressed against his.
“I saw the flash of green light before when I returned to our world, and I was still blind afterwards. It may just be a special event that happens when we leave one world and go to the other. But I saw you, and you looked very,” he groped for a word, “wise or profound, like a judge or philosopher,” Kendel tried to describe. “I saw your face just for that one second of light, but, I don’t know.”
“And I saw you. It’s interesting you say that, because I thought you looked like – don’t take this wrong – but the first thing I thought of was Joan of Arc,” Flora said.
“A girl?” Kendel sounded wounded.
“No, not in that way, but as a warrior. I saw a movie about her once, and she – well the actress – had a look on her face that made you believe God had sent her off to fight a war, a holy war,” Flora answered.
Kendel came to a sudden stop.
“What is it?” Flora whispered.
“Do you hear that?” Kendel whispered back, his lips lowered to Flora’s ear.
They both were silent.
“Something, like rushing water, maybe?” Flora asked.
“Yes. The cave in Miriam’s world, it had a river running in it. That means we’ve made it! We’re really back!” Kendel was delighted, glad to receive the confirmation of what he had assumed was true.
“My hero!” Flora laughed, and kissed his cheek. “I suppose then that you can put me down, and I can walk out of here myself,” she suggested.
“Oh, yes, of course,” Kendel bent and let Flora’s legs slide down to the ground before he reluctantly loosened his hold on her upper body.
“Thank you for bringing me back here,” she said appreciatively. “Let’s go forward and start this adventure!”
Chapter 30
Minutes later, they began to walk through the water that started flowing along the cave floor, and soon after that, Flora saw light ahead.
“We’re almost to the outside!” she said excitedly.
Kendel was pleased, then thought about his entrance into the cave, when he’d been with Fontaine, and under attack from some evil entity. He wondered what had become of Fontaine, the water nymph who had been his guide.
“Flora, slow down a little, and don’t go out until I check things,” he advised.
“What things? How do you check them?” Flora wanted to know.
“When Fontaine was leading me here, we were attacked right at the mouth of the cave by something evil. I don’t know if it hurt Fontaine or not. I think she got away,” Kendel explained. “When we get there, I’ll let my consciousness float outside my body to feel if there are other people – or things out there.”
“Do you actually see things?” Flora asked, fascinated.
“No, I just feel their character. Evil or good, curious, sad, angry, those kinds of things,” Kendel struggled to explain.
“I’d love to have you with me the next time Jane negotiates a film deal for me!
“Okay, let’s go put your ethical measuring stick to work,” Flora said, and they walked for a few more minutes, then paused. “We’re about ten yards from the mouth of the cave. I can hear the waterfall outside,” she said.
Kendel focused his attention, trying to filter out the sound of the waterfall and the slightly warmer air that was wafting into the cave from the exterior, raising the temperature to a more comfortable level. But he could not ignore Flora’s body spray, the distinct scent that he had come to associate with her. It was something that was her, and only her to Kendel, as he realized he knew the scent and felt good when he recognized it. The scent was subtle, and he hadn’t noticed it until he’d tried to prepare himself to focus only on the world outside, but once he realized it was present, he couldn’t help but think of it, and of her.
“Could you step away a little bit, Flora? You’re a distraction,” he said.
“How am I a distraction?” she asked, both curious and indignant.
“Your body scent, it’s pretty, and it reminds me of you, and I think of you instead of leaving my own body,” he replied. “That’s why you wear it, isn’t it, to smell so, so, desirable-like?”
“I’ll step over here,” she replied self-consciously, and he heard her splash through the shallow edge of the water in the cave.
Kendel waited a moment for the air to clear, then began again to clear away distractions, and he proceeded to release his awareness into the cave, from which he flew out into the open air of the forested hills, and began to search for traces of other beings in the vicinity. He rose first up into the tree branches, then in a circle around the cave and stream, and then in a wider circle, without sensing anything but forest animals.
“Kendel?” he flew back into his body as Flora brushed her fingertips against his cheek.
“What is it?” he asked.
“I just wanted to be sure you were okay. You were quiet for a long time it seemed,” she replied.
“Everything seems clear outside. I looked in the forest around the stream and there aren’t any problems,” he explained. “We can leave the cave.”
They stepped forward, and Kendel felt the green sunlight strike him through the leafy canopy overhead, and he felt the green energy within him react with increased activity inside the blue containment that Miriam had provided.
Flora helped Kendel navigate the way down through the stones around the origins of the river, and then they began wandering along the stream path, staying within the sight or sound of the stream as they traveled through the rugged landscape until nightfall.
“Here’s your dinner,” Flora handed Kendel a portion of the supplies they had purchased in Baton Rouge, then the pair lay down on a ground cloth, with a light cover over them, listened to the sounds of the forest until they fell asleep.
In the morning they resumed their journey.
“There was a place about a day’s hike from the cave, where some of the others in our party left us to go to a spring with magical water,” Kendel began. “The spring is in a grotto somewhere off the river, and the river is sort of wide; there are stones to step on just beneath the surface of the river water, going across it. That’s where I fell in,” he noted. “We made a campfire there to warm me up.
“If you see a place like that, maybe we should try to find the spring and take some of the water,” h
e suggested. “It helps to heal people; it’s supposed to make Agata’s father well again,” he explained.
“We’ll look for a campsite with an old fire,” Flora agreed. “At least, I’ll look for a campsite.”
They continued to work their way downstream the next day, and stopped at midday to rest for a moment.
“This is hard without a trail,” Flora complained. “And it must have been even harder having to go uphill.”
“I struggled some,” Kendel admitted. He was about to say more, when he heard a breeze rustling the tree leaves overhead, and he cocked his head to listen. The breeze sounded strange, like there were words woven into its sounds.
“Do you hear that?” Kendel asked.
“Flora?” he asked a moment later, “do you hear that breeze? Does it sound odd to you?”
There was no answer.
“Flora?” Kendel stood up. Perhaps she had wandered behind a bush to relieve herself, he told himself.
“Flora?” he called more loudly, then prepared to launch his consciousness away from his body to find her.
As soon as his awareness left his physical location, he felt a strange, overarching atmosphere of sadness and hostility. It was a strangely diffuse feeling, not emanating from a single person, but existing across all the area around him. The sensation baffled him, frightened him, and also annoyed him, because he could detect little else while it dominated the emotional environment.
“What is it?” he called out. “Who is sad, and why?”
The sadness momentarily diminished, and curiosity arose, but then the sadness resumed.
“Who are you? Have you taken Flora? Return her to me. She is not here to harm you,” he said. “Do not make me angry,” he added after seconds passed without a response.
There was a sense of humor, someone who didn’t take his threat seriously, he knew.
He called forth the blue and green energies, and released illuminating lights into the air around himself. Even though he couldn’t see, he hoped the display of power would impress whoever was playing games.
“Bring her back to me,” he said. “We mean no harm. If you return her to me, we will leave immediately. We are only passing through this area,” he tried to reason with the mysterious force.
There was still no response.
“Why are you sad?” Kendel asked. “Please bring Flora back to me.” He began to carefully walk around the spot where they had stopped, tapping the ground around him with his toes, trying to locate Flora, who might simply be unconscious, he told himself.
He focused on his awareness, letting it sweep the overhead environment once again, and finding nothing. He swept wide around at ground level, and found nothing, except there was a stronger sense of the sadness.
Experimentally, he let his awareness descend into the ground, and suddenly found sadness. Not in one place, or two places, or a dozen places, but in scores of places. There was sadness and anger and a whole range of emotions buried all around him. It was like a graveyard.
Kendel froze, as he recollected the journey he had made with Fontaine. They had skirted around a place that the nymph had said was a graveyard for the ancient civilization that had lived in the land, a civilization that had been destroyed in the wars with the Dons.
The land’s name was Impiraght.
“Are you the ghosts of Impiraght?” he asked aloud.
The sadness instantly diminished by more than half.
“Are you the ancient land destroyed by the Dons? Is this your graveyard?” he asked.
Yes, a voiceless answer entered his soul.
“Fontaine told me about you. I’m sorry we entered your graveyard. We are not from this world, and we did not know,” he began to speak rapidly. “Miriam and Shaiss have brought us here, I think to fight the Dons. Miriam told us a story once, that made it sound like the Dons might come back.
“I have the Sword of Justice,” he held the weapon high to display it.
The sadness became a gasp.
Will you fight the Dons? The voice asked.
“I intend to. I believe that is what Miriam wants. After I serve her other errands, I believe the Dons may be back, and I will be asked to fight,” he answered quickly, hoping that the dead of the land would support his fight against the Dons.
“But I need Flora. She is my guide and my eyes and my companion. I need her with me. Can you give her to me? Please?” he asked.
Do you love her? the voice asked.
“I do. She is very dear to me,” he answered.
If you have her, you swear you will fight the Dons? the voice asked.
“I swear that with Flora by my side, I will fight the Dons,” he agreed.
Then if you can find her, you may have her without any further harm, the tone of the voice seemed smug to Kendel, as if it felt satisfied in having pulled a trick on him.
“But I am blind. She is my guide. I cannot see to find her,” he tried to hold his anger at bay, though it rose with great intensity as soon as he discerned the cruelty of the dilemma the Impiraght spirit had imposed upon her. “Won’t you lead me to her?”
You must find her if you wish to have her, the voice was firm.
Kendel felt his sense of injustice boil over.
“I have the Sword of Justice,” he thundered. “It would be Just for you to reunite Flora and I and allow us to go on our way. “
If you deserve to carry the Sword, you have the ability to find your beloved, the voice told him.
Was it a test, perhaps? Kendel asked himself. How would he find her? How would the Sword be involved?
He held the sword out at arms-length and pointed it straight ahead, hoping to trigger some reaction, but after moments of the extension of his arm, there was nothing in response.
The Sword knew how to fight, but Kendel didn’t know what else it was capable of. It had an imposing name. It must have done something to earn such a grand title, but Kendel had never heard any story about the origin of the name; he didn’t understand how Justice was served by the sword.
“How does the Sword serve Justice?” he asked the Impiraght spirit.
Ah, the voice answered. You do not know?
“We are not originally from this world. We do not know the history here,” Kendel tried to stay reasonable, in the hope that the conversation would lead to Flora’s release.
There was silence for a long moment.
The Sword serves justice by protecting and avenging the innocent, the voice said.
“But Flora is innocent! She has done no harm to anyone. The Sword should protect her from you,” Kendel protested.
She is not innocent of desecrating our holy graveyard, Impiraght disagreed quickly. She trampled right over it.
“But she had no idea! That’s my fault. I didn’t tell her there was a graveyard. I forgot Fontaine had told me. And I’m blind, so I couldn’t see any landmarks anyway,” he pleaded his case.
There was another pause.
We will release most of her to you; your defense has some merit, the Voice spoke as though it was uncertain about its moral imperative.
“What do you mean, ‘most of her,’?” Kendel asked.
We will keep a small part of her here, as her bond – and your bond. You must return here after you defeat the Dons, and she may recover what we keep, the guardian of the graveyard decided.
“Don’t hurt her!” Kendel pled.
She will feel no pain, the voice replied.
“Kendel?” Flora’s voice was very nearby.
“Flora?” he called out wildly. “Flora, where are you?”
Her voice sounded directly at his side. “I’m here, with you.”
He turned and hugged her, and felt her arms hesitantly return the hug.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “Have they done something to you?”
“I don’t feel anything,” she replied. “They had me paralyzed, so that I couldn’t speak or move or signal in any way, although I could hear everything the two of you
were saying.”
“Is she unharmed?” Kendel asked the voice as he squeezed Flora tightly. “Did you change your mind? Thank you.”
She is unharmed, but we have kept our word. We have taken something from her, something that gives her no pain in its absence, the spirit replied. If you return here after you achieve success, we will restore what is missing.
Kendel felt a premonition of pain, and his throat reflexively constricted in fear of whatever unknown revelation was about to occur.
“What is it?” Flora asked before he could. She stepped out of his embrace and spoke into the empty air. “What have you taken?”
Your love for the boy at your side is no longer within you. We hold it and will retain it until the conditions are satisfied, the spirit answered.
“You’ve done what?” Kendel asked is astonished pain.
Now go on your way. Go take the Sword and take your ambition and ignorance and recklessness and see if you prove capable of facing the Dons, the voice ordered them. The ground beneath their feet trembled slightly. Go.
“I loved you?” Flora asked softly.
“I heard you,” she spoke before Kendel could answer. “You told the spirit that you love me.” She let the statement hang in the air.
It was impossible to admit, and it was impossible to deny.
“Flora,” he began, “while I was here in this land without you, I realized how much you meant to me. And I felt that most strongly when I was in that hotel room in New Orleans, and you showed up at the door – it made me happier than I’ve ever been in my life – except for maybe the time we woke up in the hospital together,” he danced around giving a straight answer, afraid to confess his love for her – and his vulnerability to her – so directly.
“We were in love, and didn’t actually say it,” Flora mused. “I don’t feel it. I did, and now I don’t.
“And you, you are still in love with me?” she asked again.
“Yes,” he whispered.
There was silence.
“We better get on our way, I guess,” Flora said after the silence had stretched too long.
She reached out to grasp his sleeve. She wasn’t holding his hand, he noted with a tinge of sadness.