by Gabi Moore
"So much for the radio, can't believe you listen to that shit."
I didn't expect Erol to be up, but as soon as I spoke, he got up with a groan and a yawn.
"It's nice to know that there are others out there even crazier than myself."
His statement gave me pause.
"Gets lonely working on portal theories, and meditations on the paranormal. I need some company, and so I turn to the radio in order to find what I'm looking for. The strangest part about that entire conversation is that is just some snippet from someone's life."
"You were awake for that?"
"Sure. I was awake enough to listen. I allow myself to drift off like that, and the radio keeps me company. Of course not while I'm driving, but since you're taking care of that..."
I strained my mind to wonder what it was exactly that the man on the radio had been experiencing, but I couldn't come to any sort of conclusions. Erol must have known what I was thinking, because he responded to my unvoiced question.
"The problem is that most psychic phenomenon is a subjective experience. It's all dependent on the way that a person interprets information that enters their perception. It could very well be that a shadow person and a woman of light were taking up space in that man's room. The problem is that not everybody is even open to those sorts of possibilities, and so there is an inherent loneliness in experiencing psychic phenomenon. When you factor in the subjectivity of interpretation, all of the sudden, we are in territory that is even more isolating."
I nodded.
"So, you get aliens, angels, ancestors..."
"And all the rest of it. The point is, we have no idea what is on the other side of all of these experiences. All we have is the figurative finger pointing at the moon."
"I understand."
"That's why I think this mission we are on right now is so important. The entire premise here is that we might be able to create an opening between dimensions. The hope is that it changes something, and makes it so that people don't have to believe that people are crazy just because they are having psychic experiences. If I'm correct in my theory, I think we will all come to accept psychic experiences as an aspect of life, not as some unique phenomenon, or indicator of insanity."
I was stunned.
"I can't believe it..."
"What's that?"
"The audacity of males is cross-dimensional."
He had a good laugh about that, which was nice to hear. I was being completely serious, but it was nice to at least see some element of comfort in the situation. The laughter was short-lived, leaving us in the darkness of the car once more, but it was a moment.
"You know, I have the feeling that the audacity is complimented equally by some level of sacrifice that we are never fully aware of until it happens."
"Try not to complain too much for me."
"Oh, I'm not intending to be sexist. Women definitely have their own sacrifices that they need to make over the course of their lives. I just think that more often than not, men are called to make sacrifices that are more physical in nature; usually more permanent."
"Are you afraid?"
He shrugged, and winced involuntarily.
"I've had a few dreams. Nothing that prevents me from wanting to move forward, but I consider them to be warnings. Dreams are powerful things, and I don't think it is ever wise to ignore them."
"You know, I'm familiar enough with your culture to know that most of your stories have been written by men."
"Interesting, but I don't think it negates my statement."
I grinned.
"You would think that."
This brought out another laugh, though, this time it was less severe than the first. Both Amethyst and Rosemary were up for the occasion. Amethyst was even wagging her tail back and forth against the rear cab of the truck.
"If you see history, and the mythological process of storytelling as an anthropological record of the psyche of the storytellers, and the storytellers were predominately men, that doesn't preclude these records as being used to assemble an archetype of male experience. It might prevent anyone from talking about ‘human’ or ‘female’ experience, but one would hope that over enough time, something would have been distilled there, inside of those stories."
"Like the Tarot."
He nodded.
"Exactly. A pictorial account of human behavior throughout the ages."
I didn't bother to tell him that instead of being centered within a masculine viewpoint, he was also now centering himself within a human viewpoint. The point seemed moot, as I doubted he could have expressed his thoughts in any other way.
"Do you even know who I am, or where I'm from?"
Another smile, though this one was a bit more sad than the last.
"I see what you and I are doing as an adventure. Imagine you were driving late at night, and you were listening to a radio show..."
"And I heard you talking about how you went to discover a portal between dimensions with some type of alien visitor..."
A smile brought a squint to my eyes.
"You're right. People would think you were crazy."
"So I accept what ever is happening, and hope that at the end of it all, there's going to be something there worth while for me."
"Hm. You're just the passenger. Not a bad way to deflect responsibility."
"C'mon, let's roll down the window and put on some tunes."
"And Everything Looks Good Tonight..."
"La La La La La La La La..."
The dogs joined in, and we both sang the chorus. Sacrifices would most certainly be asked. No story was complete without them.
For the moment, I knew he was right.
No reason not to enjoy it while it lasted.
* * *
"Well, we're here."
"We may have bonded this trip, but that doesn't give you permission to make inane statements of observation."
"Oh, right, gotcha. You get to play a hardass now that you've been behind the wheel all night."
I let the response slide, and did my best to appreciate the scenery.
Our final destination was more beautiful than I had anticipated. There was definitely something magical about those beaches. The stones on the ground looked like they were made of gems. Some of the stones were pitch black, others were blue, green, and rose colored; all of them were smooth enough to where you could see your reflection in them if you squatted down toward the ground.
The sound of the waves and the wind provided a backdrop for the birds of early morning. We were there at dawn, and the sun rose behind us in the sky. Light shot outward toward the ocean, and I smiled thinking about how beautiful the sunset was going to be later on that night.
Assuming we make it that long...
The thought came into my head unbidden. There was no reason to believe that all safety and beauty should dissipate throughout the course of the day, but still I felt uncomfortable. I couldn't tell if it was because I was operating on a lack of sleep, or if it was because of some more legitimate reason. I was certain that our arrival meant my full awareness was necessary.
The memory of the dream from the day before was still fresh in my mind. The sun of the demon world cast a dark shadow in my thoughts. The soft glow of these coastal dunes at dawn was much more to my liking.
"Now what?"
I turned away from the lapping waves to find Erol was carefully attending to his rats.
They were running along his shoulders while his arms were spread outward from his body. Both dogs scampered around him and barked playfully at their master. He looked so loved, and yet he was alone.
I walked over closer, and gave Amethyst a scratch between the ears. She pounced after a stick on the ground and brought it to me expectantly.
"Did you hear me?" I asked, as I threw the stick into the ocean.
He started to speak, but was interrupted by a sharp bark from Rosemary.
The cry surprised both of us, and we watched as the dog
positioned itself between the truck and a figure that was standing on the edge of the dunes.
Chapter 14
"Rosemary.... Hush!"
Amethyst came back drenched in seawater, only to drop the stick at my side, and lower her gaze in the direction of the figure on the hill. Amethyst's stance grew closer to the ground, and a low growl came out from her throat.
"I think we've found out where we need to go."
Even as I spoke, the figure fled from the hill, opting to disappear backward into the depths of the sand dunes.
"You think following them is a good idea?"
His voice was laced with reservation. He didn't want to have another episode like the restaurant any more than I did. Still, I shook my head.
"I don't think it's going to be like that. If they wanted to attack, they would have done so already. Our guard was down. We need to follow."
Whether or not the decision to follow was an aspect of the will of fate, or not was not a concern for me. I had my own questions to answer, and I had a suspicion that the if we moved in the direction that this stranger lead us toward, I might find more than just the answers to my questions. I would find the transfer point. The portal used by the Wilder Fae to track us down.
I had been too blind before to piece things together. The battle had been too shocking.
“Put your stuff away, Erol, and stay with the dogs. I need to have a word with this stranger.”
“What if they come back while you’re gone?”
“Like I said, if they wanted you dead, you would already be gone. I’ll be back shortly.“
I sprinted off in the direction of the figure. They already had a fair enough start on me, but I had a feeling that we would talk soon. You don’t make yourself known unless you wish to be known — especially if you are the Wilder Fae.
My feet sank into the sand, and I could feel the grains of sand on the dunes slip in-between my toes. My muscles burned as I ascended the hill, but the exertion felt good. I smiled, thinking about how cramped my legs had gotten after driving all night. An early morning run was exactly what I needed to wake my body up again.
When I arrived at the top of the dune, I noticed that the figure I was chasing had left footprints along the crest of the next dune, which lead toward a hill. I accommodated for the change in trajectory, and made it my goal to balance along the crest of the dune with each footfall.
Scanning the peaks of the dunes, in mid sprint, I saw my target ahead of me by forty yards or so. All of the time I had spent in training came back to me, and my body assumed the position of peak physical performance.
The landscape around me came into hyper focus, and I became incredibly sensitive to the most subtle changes in the shape of the dune.
I wanted my feet to land at precisely the right angle, allowing me to minimize drag in the sand, and make up the distance left to cover.
The dunes went on for a half-mile or so, before transferring into more stable ground. The trade off was that instead of negotiating the surface of the dunes, the chase would lead up the trail toward a set of beachside cliffs.
My breath ran heavily, and my vision started to go soft. At that moment, I had only one goal:
I had to capture that person and make them answer for the intrigue surrounding the attack at the restaurant.
A leap from the final crest of the sand dune left me skidding down the side of the final hill. At the base of the dune, the ground assumed a different texture as I climbed upward on the hill toward the sea cliffs. The sand had been replaced by a more firm foundation. In addition to the foundational changes of the soil, sparse, wind-blown trees began to crop up on either side of the trail.
Through the switchbacks, I sprinted up the hill, until the trees around had grown tense enough to provide a semblance of protection. That coverage was all that the Wild Fae needed to deceive me in my pursuit. While I ran headfirst up the hill, I was tackled from behind by the very figure I had chased.
The impact threw me off balance, and I fell face first into the ground. My body burned from the abrasions on my skin. I also lost what breath was inside of my body while my assailant brought their entire weight down on my chest cavity.
Stars exploded in my vision, and for a moment, I lost all context. My body was little more than a vector for confusion and pain in that moment.
Without wasting any time, my attacker wrapped a cord around my throat, and pinned my shoulders to the ground with their knees. I struggled, and bucked my hips, but the more I thrashed around, the tighter the cord grew on my skin. I flailed around for a moment longer, refusing to give into the submission.
Then everything went black.
* * *
I woke up with cords wrapped tightly around my body. My neck ached, and my jaw was spread wide by rope. When I spoke, the words only came out as muffled yelps, but that was enough to let my captor know that I was conscious.
The figure I had chased was alone, by all appearances. More of them could have been waiting in the trees beyond. My wits were not the sharpest they had ever been. I was both fatigued, and in physical pain, but I was alive, and that counted for something.
"You don't recover nearly as quickly as you used to..."
My vision blurred, and I looked at the figure standing in front of me.
They were dressed in the garb of the Wilder Fae Assassins.
Dark green clothes.
Masks covering their faces, but their bodies displayed alluringly for all to envy. This one was a woman, and she looked not only beautiful, but also highly capable. I realized then, that even if I had not been in a state of fatigue, I would have had difficulty matching myself against her prowess.
While we all had trained hard during the years of conflict in the Revolution, the Wilder Fae had always trained. They exercised and ate like warriors even in times of peace, so that if, and when -- for it was always a when -- conflict arose, they would be prepared to do what was necessary to protect their way of life.
The Wilder Fae were some of the fiercest allies during the time of the Revolution, but they were also some of the most philosophically stoic. Their separatist attitudes protected them from getting caught up in the nationalistic self-righteousness that infected both the Revolutionary Troops, and Xan's Army.
The only reason they had become involved in the war was to protect their won autonomy. Anything beyond that, was never acknowledged. As a result, a great many of the Revolutionary Army soldiers never quite found it inside of themselves to trust the Wilder Fae with any aspect of battle at all. Even when the sacrifice of the Wilder Fae saved countless lives, and enabled the support and tactical knowledge necessary for us to survive the final battle against Xan.
I stopped moaning, and allowed myself to find a sense of composure. I knew that whatever this one wanted to talk about, it must have been important. I also noted that I was not dead... which meant that there was a great deal for me to learn from what they might have to share.
"Aria, you don't recover quite as quickly as you used to."
I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out who it was that spoke to me. The mask extinguished all defining characteristics of the face, and the eyes were not familiar enough to me to do any good.
"Don't try figuring out who I am. If I wanted to tell you that, you would already know. Just as if I wanted to kill you, you would already be done.
I'm aware of your mission into the Material Plane, and I'm also aware of the good intentions you have for moving forward. You are a strong and noble warrior; you always have been. In fact, this is the only reason you are alive right now.
I've come here to tell you that the reasons behind your current mission are not what they seem to be. Mistakes that you make will cause traumas to ripple outward across all dimensions. Our seers have warned us of your ignorance, which is why the plot had been formed against you and the human in your care."
At the mention of Erol, my eyes lit up again, and pain flashed across my face.
"No
need to worry. The human has been drugged, and sleeps now by the sea, in the company of his animals. At this point, the only person you should be concerned about is yourself."
At this, she produced a knife which I knew to be wickedly sharp. She grabbed the knife by the hilt and began to press it slowly into my mouth. As the blade touched each cord, they were severed, without so much as a fraction of hesitation. The cords did not stand a chance against the edge of that blade. One by one, the thin cords snapped, each time relieving pressure on my jaw. I began to sweat, as the blade inched close and closer into my mouth. My muscles twitched with involuntary fear at the prospect of the sadistic intent of this rogue fae.
When the last cord was slit, I felt the blade just brush the side of my lip as the woman pulled the knife out from my mouth. The taste of blood seeped into my mouth, and I licked my lips subconsciously in an effort to heal this tiny wound.
"You killed a good friend of mine, and I would be happy to feed your blood to the hillside."
The statement was not a threat, but a cold and soberly delivered fact.
"Then why don't you?"
The woman hung her head for a moment, and then raised it up toward me once more. When she saw me again, she had a smile on her lips. The smile was one of a person who has inside information that they will never share. I myself have smiled that way at people in the past. The smile is one that says, ‘I know why, but you'd never believe me’.
"Let's just say you and I are little more than character being moved along by the hand of fate, and right now, it is not my responsibility to kill you, though at some point, it most definitely might be."
"Why not do it now, and save yourself the trouble?"
"For the same reason you wouldn't... which is perhaps another reason why I'm going to let you go."
"Doesn't make sense," I began. "If you were going to let me go in the first place, why go to the troub--"
*SLAP*
"Next time, I'll use the flat of my blade..."
Too cocky. I was getting too cocky.
"You are bright, and that has served you well, but you are dealing in matters that are far outside of your comprehension. I have brought you here to deliver you a warning."
