by Kim Petersen
‘Yeah, maybe you should invest in gloves. Did you come through the gallery?’ she asked.
His brows creased. ‘Uh … no, I came through the alley gate. I called earlier, Holly said you’d be out here. Is there a problem?’
Her shoulders relaxed. ‘Nope,’ she said.
He held her gaze as he closed in on her. Invading her space as he reached across and gently wiped the smudge of paint she had smeared across her forehead. ‘You have paint on your face,’ he murmured.
Millie’s eyes dropped to study his lips only inches from her own. Her heart quickened when she felt the shallow warmth of his breath sweep across her face. Catching her own breath, she stiffened as she tried to ignore the tingle his touch provoked in her.
‘Oh,’ she laughed, pulling away and rubbing at her forehead with a rag she pulled from the pocket of her overalls.
Blue-lagoon eyes watched her with the swim of amusement.
He cleared his throat. ‘I have some news,’ he said, smiling as she continued scrubbing randomly at her face.
Breathe! She turned her now blotchy forehead from him and made for a nearby stool. ‘Oh?’ She perched and tried to appear casual.
Damon fought to hide his grin. ‘I have just finished with a phone conference with New World Art magazine. They would love to run a centrepiece on you, Millie … and the best part is, you will be featured on the cover of their September 1998 issue!’ he grinned.
Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened in disbelief. ‘What? Really, Damon?’ she murmured.
‘Yep,’ he smiled, watching her carefully.
Her lips curved into a wide smile as she digested the information. ‘How did you manage this? New World Art is the most prestigious art magazine in the world!’ The pitch of her voice elevated.
He laughed. ‘I know.’
She rose to feet and threw herself towards him. ‘Oh my god!’ she squealed.
He caught her in his arms, slightly lifting her weight in a half-twirl while they laughed together.
Millie closed her eyes against his shoulder, and relaxed in his embrace. When she caught his sensual woody scent, she pulled away abruptly. ‘How did you do this?’
His fingertips lingered on her waist until she moved from his grasp. ‘It’s all you, Millie. Your work speaks for itself,’ he said.
She grinned at him. ‘Thank you, Damon.’
He grinned back. ‘They’ll be sending someone to Australia to interview you and take photos of your work. And of course, this will probably mean a trip to New York will be on the cards for us soon, so get your passport ready,’ he said.
She clutched the side of her head and gave another squeal. ‘New York! Oh, how glamorous.’
Her eyes dreamily darted to the ceiling as she contemplated. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to New York,’ she smiled whimsically. ‘Wait … Why are we going to New York?’
‘I am currently setting up deals with some art dealers and collectors from across the US. When this issue is released, interest will swell. That will be the time to jump. You and your work will be hot-to-trot.’
His eyes trailed to her neckline where they rested on the diamond crusted half heart that dangled above her cleavage. ‘It’s not enough to view your art. They’re like hungry sharks keen for the next kill; they’ll want flesh and blood. They’ll want you.’ The blue in his eyes deepened. ‘Something I’m all too familiar with.’
Millie ignored the flip of her heart as her fingers grasped at the long ends of her ponytail. ‘Umm … sure. Well, I guess we’ll being going to New York soon,’ she mumbled, fingers tangled in her hair.
Damon’s eyes flickered with amusement. ‘Old habits die hard, hey?’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
He gestured towards her twirling fingers. ‘Will you bring Arella? If we go to New York? It would be nice to actually meet your daughter,’ he said.
Millie lurched from the stool. ‘I don’t know,’ she muttered. ‘Listen, I have to get going in a sec. Thanks for stopping by with the great news.’ She hurried for the door.
Damon hesitated. ‘I was hoping to take you to dinner tonight to celebrate. There is a new seafood restaurant in town. I hear the lobster is delicious,’ he winked.
She smiled as her eyes met his in a moment of memory: her eighteenth birthday dinner when Ace had baulked at the lobster. ‘I already have plans. Another time, perhaps,’ she murmured, looking away.
He sighed. ‘With Craig?’
‘Yes, with Craig,’ she snapped, suddenly annoyed. What is it with these guys?
His eyes brooded. ‘Sure. Talk soon, Millie-pie.’
She began dimming the studio lights and screwing paint-filled lids onto their tubes. She grinned to herself as she thought about her art gracing the cover of such a reputable art magazine. Damon sure had lived up to his word. He had worked tirelessly for the past months on a marketing plan for her art, and all that hard work was beginning to pay off. She had been selling many pieces and could hardly keep up with the increasing demand for her paintings. It all seemed to be falling into place. She frowned. She wasn’t sure how or when to tell Damon and Arella of their kinship. She knew once Damon was aware Arella was his daughter, everything would change. She just wasn’t sure she was ready for that. Her eyes fell to the floor in a moment of guilt; she knew she’d have to tell them soon.
She reached over to switch off the stereo, pausing to gaze over her day’s unfinished painting. ‘The Golden World,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Someday I will find you … or perhaps you will find me.’
Her head cocked as she heard the heavy fall of footsteps outside in the alley.
‘Millie!’ her father burst through the studio door with a loud thud. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ he said, panting.
‘What is it, Dad?’ her eyes scanned his ashen face.
He clutched one hand over his chest while flashing the other palm at her. ‘It’s Ace,’ he gasped. ‘I’ve heard from him, he just called the house.’
She frowned. ‘What did he say? Where is he? Is he okay?’ She tripped over her words while resting a hand on his shoulder. He looks like he’s going to have a heart attack! ‘Are you okay, dad? Come sit.’
Steering him to a stool, she waited with growing impatience while Glen’s heaving chest subsided and he regained his breath.
His face was grim. ‘I don’t know where he is, he didn’t say,’ he rasped. His big head shook slowly and his bewildered eyes sparkled like a goldfish. ‘His voice was tainted, Millie. Like it wasn’t his own. I hardly recognised his voice.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He said, “I am becoming the serpent. I will sliver unnoticed among you all because I am the son of the serpent god and she has betrayed me”,’ Glen said.
‘A threat?’ She grasped at her ponytail.
Glen shook his head. The wrinkles on his face deepened. ‘I don’t know, it sounded as much. The thing is, he began to howl like a baby wolf pining for his mother. He cried like he was in pain. He can’t control the serpent, Millie. I need to find him before it’s too late.’
She reached for her father’s hands. ‘No, Dad. We need to find him. Is there anything else? Something that might help us find his whereabouts?’
‘No. But somehow I don’t think we need to worry about that.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘I think he’s coming for you, Millie-pie.’
Arella looked up at Millie expectantly. ‘So, I’m not in trouble with Miss Graham, mummy?’
‘Not at all,’ Millie laughed. She patted a hand on top of Arella’s pillow. ‘Lay down, butterfly.’
Arella threw herself backwards, landing in the folds of fluffy blankets and pillows. ‘Then why do you look so worried tonight? Is it grandpa?’ She propped herself up on one elbow.
Millie sighed. ‘Have you brushed your teeth?’
‘Yes.’
She leaned towards Arella. ‘Breathe.’
Arella blew as hard as she could.
‘Whoa!’ Mill
ie reeled back. ‘Are you trying to blow me away, young lady?’ she chuckled.
Arella giggled. ‘Maybe just a little.’
‘Oh yeah?’ she teased, tickling Arella’s tummy.
Millie murmured words of sweet dreams and love and kissed her daughter goodnight.
Arella called as Millie started to leave the room. ‘Mummy, I’m going to sleep with one eye open like a dolphin.’
‘Have you been reading uncle Ace’s book of facts again?’ Millie said.
Her dark head bopped. ‘Uh-huh, it keeps him close to me.’ Her little brows knitted under the dim glow of her room. ‘Mummy, if you ever can’t find me, make sure you meet me at the unicorn gates of the Golden World, okay.’
Millie frowned. ‘Why would I never be able to find you, Rella?’ she asked.
Arella shrugged. ‘Sometimes I dream of a black snake.’
‘A black snake?’ Millie felt her chest tense while she sat back on the edge of the bed.
‘Only sometimes. It’s okay mummy, I don’t think he wants to hurt me. I’m not afraid of him.’
She snuggled in her blankets and sleepy eyes drooped to a close.
‘Good night, mummy,’ she murmured.
Millie watched her sleeping daughter for moment. Her heart began to thump wildly as she rose to leave the room. Her face paled and she clasped a hand over her mouth as she ran for the bathroom. Overcome with feelings of anxiety, she could barely dislodge the lump in her throat. He’s coming for me, she thought with a trace of despair. My brother, my beautiful brother. How do I save you from yourself?
July 3, 1998
Dear Journal,
It is so easy for our thoughts to stir. The more we think on a subject, the more thoughts like them are added. It’s not unlike making a soup; at least that’s how I like to see it. We add a little worry here, a dash of anxiety there, mix in a whole lot of fright, and voila: we have created ourselves a simmering pot of revolving discord ready to generate the corresponding feelings. Only by then, those feelings may become too difficult to control.
Of course, the same can be said when we choose to make a soup of joy – but how many of us are actually so aware of the thoughts that are contributing to our soup? For our soup inevitably becomes our reality … the cause in each individual’s conscious creation.
I figure, if I can face this fact completely, I may be able to conquer myself.
I figure, if I can conquer myself, I may then be ready for the dark power of the black serpent when he calls upon me.
Lately, I have begun to speak to the God-self that lingers in my brother – the unflawed soul I know lives beyond the serpent. And while I send a blended ray of gold and violet to him, I ask his divine self to accept the peaceful uplifting rays I shower over him. If only a spark infiltrates through the blackened shell that encases his heart, then I will consider my efforts sustained.
It is my greatest hope that over time the violet ray will dissolve the dark that has accumulated over him …
If only he will listen …
If only he will allow …
Millie xo
The blues of his eyes reflected the blood-orange sky that soared over the slopes of the mountain ridges as he found a secluded place along the rocky stream that looped around the edge of the land he had been working. He had been ambling through Mary Valley country for the past months, finding work among the farmers that could use an extra hand on the land. Ace found that labouring land abundant with pineapples, macadamia nuts and livestock didn’t pay nearly as much as he’d like. Yet each fleeting stint came with a bed and three meals each day; enough to bide him over until he was sure he had evolved his newfound skill enough to make his next move.
He sat along the edge of the billowing stream under a blanket of hugely dense trees and gazed towards the sunset while he thought of his sister and her meddling ways. He had dwelled long enough under the patio shadows the night he had lunged the switchblade into his mother to witness Millie’s healing power. He vividly remembered the sharp twist of rage he felt when the coloured wings had receded to reveal Lilly take her first breath after her death.
His lips curved into a sneer as he ran a calloused hand over the short spike of his hair. Just like his dear sister, he had discovered he possessed a unique power too. And when he was certain he had cultivated it enough, he had plans for his life-saving sister.
Ace closed his eyes, deliberately pushing his thoughts from his mind. His ears pricked at the sound of the nearby cows mooing. His golden brows creased. ‘Shut up!’ he growled. ‘Go away, stupid cows.’
A few big brown eyes turned to look at him, and they began to shift away as if they understood his command.
Ace chuckled while he watched them walk away, then settled back to close his eyes once more. A deep breath filled his lungs repeatedly as he allowed his body to relax. He sensed the lift of a familiar boost begin to elevate through him, and he welcomed the change he felt as he consciously focused himself out of the shell of his body. Hovering above his head, he marvelled at the feeling of limitlessness that overcame him. He knew he was invincible and he felt every inch of the dark power growing within him. From here, he could see everything, but he knew he wouldn’t stay too long; not yet.
He began to fix his thoughts on the serpent that had spiralled its way into his life when he was a child. The more he thought about his old friend, the more he felt its force envelope him. He began to spin, slowly at first, until he gained momentum and almost lost control as the black serpent appeared before him in a misty clouded vision. Fangs revealed themselves when the serpent opened its mouth and inhaled the essence of Ace until he was all but consumed. Totally within the confines of the scaly snake now, Ace looked down to his slumbering body below, and with the greatest of intention he focused himself downward. He entered through the top of his dense shell, feeling a sharp rush of pain as his outer body transformed and he again became aware of the hindrances that it brought.
He lay still under the shadows of the trees while he adjusted to an acute dance of vibrations that rang through his ears. He narrowed his eyes towards the mulling cows in the nearby paddock. A long forked tongue protruded over pointed white fangs as he gathered the odour of the cows, sending the information back into his mouth where he tasted their scent. He became aware of the hunger their essence had stirred within him, and briefly contemplated a rare-meaty meal. Later, he thought, as scaly black muscles moved and flexed. He set off towards the rodeo he knew most of the town-folk would be attending that night. First, it is time to play, he mused. After all, how else would he perfect his new skills?
Ace paused to linger behind a dusty old truck parked behind a crowded grandstand that overlooked the arena. His eyes darted excitably to the people that had turned up in droves to watch cowboys attempt the most dangerous eight seconds in sport – bull riding. The crowd cheered and clapped, and there was an electrified thrill reverberating among the small horde while they watched a bucking young cowboy try his hand at the timed event. A loud horn sounded over the noise, signalling the end of the eight seconds, and the cowboy swung himself off the jerking bull with the aid of a bullfighting clown.
He slithered under the truck and glided noiselessly under the elevated bleachers, gazing up towards the treads and kicking of feet as they stomped and meandered over the wooded structure. His eyes widened as he savoured the mixed scent of sweat, assorted fragrances and beer that exuded from the crowd above him. Every one of his senses appeared magnified, and he could hardly contain the thrill that pulsated through his thick, long body. He moved closer to a sneakered foot that dangled down through the rafters. Oh … anyone of them are so close to their death, he relished, as he slowly licked the back of the dangling foot with his tongue. He manoeuvred his forked tongue with deliberate pace over a sock, until the taste of warm flesh sent an exquisite rush of hunger through him. He rose and arched the length of his upper body as he drew back ready to strike, the glint of teeth glimmered in the shadows.
A movement in the shadows caught his attention.
‘Hello big black snake.’
Ace slung around towards the small voice to spy a little girl. She was kneeling at the side of the bleachers, staring at him with wide brown eyes. The ends of her long dark hair swept through the dirt as she cocked her head to one side and smiled. ‘What are you doing under here? Are you lost?’ she said.
Ace was momentarily speechless as he considered her imposing presence.
She crouched further into the dirty gravel, and crawled a little way under the grandstand. ‘My name is Skye. Don’t be scared, snakey, I won’t hurt you,’ she said as she reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of musk candy. Saucer-eyes blinked as she stretched out her hand. ‘Are you hungry?’
Ace shifted the scales of his body and began to slither closer to her. He reached her quickly and lifted his head to level with hers. ‘I don’t eat candy,’ he hissed, tossing his head to knock the musk stick out of her hand.
Her bottom lip began to tremble as she gazed down at the dirt-covered candy. ‘Hey! That was my last musk stick!’ she cried.
Ace chuckled as she looked back at him with the threat of tears brimming in her eyes.
‘Why are you so mean?’ she accused.
‘Why are you not scared of me?’ he sneered.
‘Because I don’t want to be scared of you! You’re just a big fat meanie,’ she wailed.
Ace drew himself high above her, puffing his chest and cinching his upper lips back in a ferocious display. ‘Well, you should be afraid, little girl,’ he jeered, ‘because I am mean and I am going to hurt you.’
She gave a high-pitched scream while scampering back to avoid the strike of fangs as they tore through the space between them like a bolt of lightning. His strike was met with a mouth full of gritty dirt. Ace flicked his head around in time to catch sight of a man’s hand tugging the girl from the shadows just in time.
