Guardian

by Abra Ebner

  I fidgeted with my hands.

  Sam continued, “If Edgar is dead…”

  “He’s not,” I finally spoke, my hand reaching for the warm ring as it lay across my chest.

  Sam pursed his lips, “But you have to realize, there’s a possibility that one day, you will be like Margriete, eternally lost without him.”

  I looked up at Margriete walking in an anxious manner a few paces ahead, finding her existence sad and lonely, something I knew I couldn’t handle as she did. “I will never rest; I will continue to find a way.”

  Sam sighed again as though his heart felt the pain mine did, “You will forever be his then, Edgar’s girl.”

  I looked up at him, finding the words a comfort.

  He smiled, revealing the soft side I was afraid to embrace, but now found appropriate. I watched him carefully, his thoughts now going away from our conversation to something else. I longed to know what he was thinking, but his personality gave no tell to his emotional state or the past that haunted him.

  I looked around the cave, not sure how much time had gone by but I began to brace myself for the inevitable dark-out. Margriete was scanning the walls now, looking for the next switch through the streams of water. Sam seemed relaxed and even content, something I rarely sensed from him.

  “Ah ha!” Margriete jumped in the air, thrusting her hand toward the ceiling in victory.

  Startled, I looked around for the switch I knew she had found, right as the room went dark around us.

  “Great.” Margriete cursed under her breath as she fumbled through the darkness, her eyes not yet able to see through the thick shroud of black, but to her luck, her mind still pictured the spot she had seen.

  My breathing was shallow as I listened to the familiar velvety clank as she pressed the switch. Light slowly burned back to life, the gentle sound of worms falling against glass filled the air as they tumbled from their small caves, morbid yet intriguing.

  Margriete stood and brushed the dirt from her pants, her knees darkened and wet from the damp floor. “This place certainly isn’t glamorous, that’s for sure.”

  “Yeah,” I looked around, “Why did the gods give the humans the surface of the Earth, why not give them the center?”

  Margriete chuckled, “Just wait, you’ll see why soon.”

  I marveled at the response as my mind tried to imagine what could be more magnificent than the sun and moon, the clouds and sky.

  As we worked our way deeper, the cave arched to the left and then suddenly divided. We all halted and looked at each other, tired of the continued trial of our will. Margriete quickly untied the golden book and flipped through its pages. We watched her with anxious eyes as she concentrated on the words, scanning each page with irritated haste as the book seemed to groan under her vicious touch.

  Sam became distracted by something as his gaze darted about the cave, finding something in the air was different. Ever since our talk he had remained distant, as though tangled in his past. His breath became heavy as I watched him, as though struggling for a breath he didn’t need. Rubbing his palms together, he looked down into his hands.

  “What’s wrong Sam?” I finally asked, seeing now that something was clearly not right.

  “My palms,” he paused, pressing them against his jeans, “They’re sweating.”

  I walked up to him and grabbed his hands, the noticeable warmth shocking as it touched my skin. I looked into his eyes, “Sam, you’re warm.”

  His breathing was still heavy, his eyes now looking toward the cave on the far left. Margriete and I both followed his gaze, our heart rates quickening. As we stood in the silence, a soft sound began to grow from the cave, approaching like a slow soft echo. We stood like statues as the sound grew until I recognized the subtle tones of a woman’s humming.

  I looked at Sam, a scared look now glazing his eyes, a feeling I never knew he could possess showing on his face. A light grew from within now, approaching us at a steady pace as it began to silhouette the figure that held it. Sam took one step forward as the figure approached, still unfazed by our presence on its path.

  The figure emerged then, her humming halting as she nearly let out a scream, startled to find she was not alone.

  Sam exhaled hard, his breathing coming to an abrupt halt as though dying all over, “Jill?”

  THE WAY

  “Sam?” she dropped the lantern that she grasped in her hand. “Oh…” she knelt to the ground where she tried to grab the handle, fumbling as her hands shook.

  We all faced each other, all frozen in either shock or curiosity. The young girl that had emerged was no older than eighteen, but clearly not from the modern time either. She had long straight hair that fell to her waist, brushing over her back as she stood and flipped it behind her. Her leather bell bottoms were a far cry from stylish, and her beaded necklace was painfully familiar to the stereotypes of the late sixties.

  “Sam, you know this woman?” Margriete finally broke through the thick tension.

  Sam turned his head to face Margriete but his eyes remained on the woman, “Yes, I do,” he breathed, his mouth moving as though it was not a part of his face.

  Jill spoke then, “Sam I…” she blinked and took one step toward him, “I never thought I’d see you here.”

  Sam stepped forward as well, but kept his body back, as though frightened by her presence. “Er…” he tilted his head, finding the words, “How are you?”

  Jill looked around her, “Well I… I was just awake a minute ago, I needed some water, but…” she looked around again, “I must be dreaming again.” She looked down at her body, “And I’m young again!” she gasped, smiling like a child, her mind clearly in a fog.

  “Dreaming?” Sam uttered in disbelief.

  Margriete and I looked at each other as her face lit up, remembering something.

  “Jill,” Margriete took one brave step toward her, placing one hand on the shoulder of her brown and mustard colored polyester blouse, “You’re human right?”

  Jill looked at Margriete sideways, “What do you mean? Of course I’m human.”

  Margriete turned to face us. “She’s dreaming,” she stared at Sam. “I told you, this is the place humans come to dream, their perfect world so to speak.”

  Sam blinked hard, “Jill I…” he froze as Jill finally pressed past Margriete and ran into Sam’s arms. He closed his eyes and embraced her, Margriete and I now both completely confused, our mouths gaping.

  “Sam, who is this?” Margriete finally hissed, her patience wearing thin.

  I had known who this was as soon as Sam had said her name, but I hadn’t found it appropriate to fill Margriete in. I watched as Margriete’s brows furled, a surprising hint of jealously crossing her eyes as I let a sharp breath of amazement pass my lips, finding this moment a revelation into the hearts of all things.

  Sam opened his eyes and let go of Jill, “This is Jill, my love.”

  Margriete rolled her eyes and turned away, pretending not to care, though I knew that for some strange reason she did.

  Jill stared deep into Sam’s eyes, “Oh Sam, you saved me, I never got the chance to thank you, to tell you I loved you.” Her face suddenly changed as though her mind had just forgotten what she had said, showing that in the world of our dreams, things were not always clear.

  I continued to gawk even though Margriete had given up. I was too taken by the moment and the true love before me to let myself miss this. It was sad to see Sam in such a state, to see the one thing that could ever make him falter.

  He looked back at Jill who was looking around, confused and lost, “How did you come here?”

  She took a step back as though realizing where she was for the first time, “I am dreaming, aren’t I?” She stumbled over a rock but Sam was quick to grab her arm and steady her.

  Sam looked at Margriete for affirmation.

  Margriete pulled herself together enough to nod. It didn’t seem that Sam was picking up on Margriete’s jealousy
, but I could understand why. His mind was likely too overwhelmed to even notice or care.

  An innocent smile grew across Sam’s face, like a teenager in love, “Yes, I think you are.”

  Jill frowned. “I wish I weren’t,” she whispered, her voice sounding tired and distant and her gaze falling to the ground. “Oh Sam, I think about you all the time.”

  Sam smiled, “Me too.”

  I laughed to myself, I had been right. Sam did have the capacity to feel after all, but he had hid it from me in a metal cage within his heart.

  “Oh,” she cooed again, “I was in the most amazing place before…” her voice trailed off. “It was like heaven.”

  Margriete grabbed Jill’s hand, “Is that where you came from, through that cave?” It seemed she had settled her emotions and was trying to be civilized.

  Jill slowly turned at looked at her, as though trying to find her through a thick fog. Her mind worked hard to remember, but dreams were as such. “I think so, but I’m not sure why I entered the cave.” She looked at Sam, “But I think I see why now.”

  The love between Sam and Jill was undeniable and I suddenly realized why he had done what he did and why he had watched over her, even when she had chosen to love someone else.

  Margriete’s eyes lit up then, “That’s our cave!” She pointed toward where Jill had emerged, “We need to go through there.”

  Jill looked stunned as she stared off into space. “Oh,” she cried, “I think I’m waking again.”

  Sam thrust himself toward her, his wings now exposed, “No Jill, don’t go.”

  She gave him a rueful but surprised look. “Oh Sam, I never stopped loving you. You were always my knight.” She finally noticed his wings and gasped, “Oh Sam! Sam you’re an angel!”

  Sam smiled, “All because of you my love.”

  Jill’s long straight locks blew behind her then, as though in a vortex not our own. Fear crossed her eyes, “I’m falling Sam!”

  Sam wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in his strength as he tried to keep her. “No… I can save you Jill!” The torn expression on his face struck fear into my heart and I helplessly watched as the horrors of his past were relived.

  “Jill began to scream then, her voice fading as her body began to disappear in the wind like particles of sand.

  Sweat coated Sam’s brow, his body somehow alive and warm in her presence. “Come back Jill!” he yelled, but she was already gone. Sam fell to the ground as his knees cracked hard against the stone, his face buried in his hands. Margriete and I approached with humble determination, placing one hand on his back as we tried to bring him comfort.

  “She was all I ever wanted,” his voice was muffled and sad.

  I rubbed his back as hard as I could in an attempt to help him feel.

  His face twisted to face mine, “I see now Elle why you torture yourself. Why you are so determined to find him. I remember the love now Elle, I remember...” his voice trailed off into sobbing, his large body shaking as Margriete and I tried all we could to help him.

  I nodded and knelt by his side, “Of course Sam, I don’t blame you for the things you’ve said.” I hugged him hard as I felt our hearts meld closer, our friendship now more than a simple transaction or duty. He was no longer the same annoying Sam I had loathed, but a brother and dearest friend.

  Margriete swallowed as I saw her eyes begin to well from the corner of my eye. I knew the words we were speaking were like daggers in her own heart, reminding her of her murderous love and the feelings that her heart had been denied.

  “We will get through this together Sam,” I brushed the cold tears from his eyes. “Somehow,” I added.

  He took one large breath and stood, his hands shaking and his eyes heavy. “We need to press on,” There was a sudden sense of determination about him, as though realizing the importance of this mission beyond his binding agreement to protect me.

  Sam let one last warm breath escape his lips before his body fell cold and he stepped forward. Margriete and I steadied each other and regrouped, finding the best way to be supportive was to follow his lead. In his large shadow we all filtered into the cave to the left, following the footsteps Jill had left.

  As the archway passed over our heads I smiled, finding it a familiar sight in such a dark world as the carvings came clear. There was a small Raven above each door and I recalled my dream, but it was not just the dream that brought a smile to my face, it was also Edgar Allan Poe’s poem as well, and the raven that had sat above his chamber door, much as they did now.

  Margriete noticed my curiosity. “You do remember the importance of the Raven, don’t you?”

  I shook my head as we fell deeper into the cave, the glowworms casting a green hue across the caves.

  “The raven was a symbol of the divine, long before anyone really knew what to call it. The gods created them in a physical form when the human race began to grow on the surface of the earth, so that they could watch over them. Wherever ravens congregate is a place that is being watched, a place the gods fear could take over the earth. Just as the ravens flock to the Tower of London, they flock to all things that secrete true evil and human despair.” She paused, thinking to herself, “Like Matthew.”

  I nodded, “I guess that makes a lot of sense, it almost seems obvious.” I began to wonder what else was out there.

  Margriete nodded, “There are a lot of things you’ve yet to learn about yourself,” she kicked a stone that lay on the floor, “I can’t imagine how this all must be to you.”

  I shrugged.

  She looked at me sideways, almost laughing, “And your friends!” she threw her hands up, “I just can’t believe you have real human friends. When we went down to see Scott and Sarah, I must admit, I was a little repulsed.”

  I pursed my face, giving her a sour glare, “I don’t see what the big deal is, I mean, I was raised by humans.”

  Margriete snickered, “You’re sort of like a human raised by wolves, except, I think it fits better as a wolf raised by humans.”

  Her analogy was weak, but I got the point and it was something I had thought of myself. My heart sank at the thought of Scott and Sarah, I had all but ditched them in favor of this magical life, but what was I to do? It was clear that I was here for a reason, a mission I did not yet understand. If we were the guardians of their world, then I knew I would be able to make it up to them one day by saving it.

  The cave narrowed as it curved back to the left. Margriete was again analyzing the walls, feeling for the next switch. Sam dodged past her, his presence seemingly distracted until now.

  “I got this one sweetheart,” he winked at Margriete, his lecherous personality returning. He slammed the heel of his hand into the rock, the switch giving.

  As I looked up, the light beyond began to brighten, like the opening scene at the movies. The narrow caves lead forward where they poured out into a large room, about fifteen feet across and ten feet deep. As the worms plinked their way into the jars, I noticed where the rocky cave seemed to give to something strange, something human.

  Margriete let out a sharp mused breath, recognizing what now faced us. She walked to where the wall ended, running her hand across the stone and wood. Sam stretched his wings in the space, also approaching the strange wall.

  “It’s…” I paused as I crossed the distance, “It’s a wall.” But not just any wall, it was like a wall you would see in a house, complete with wallpaper. In the middle of the wall stood a white door with a gold handle and to the left hung a painting. I crinkled my brow as I looked at the picture, seeing an exact replica of the wall painted within its frame.

  Sam came and stood beside me. “How original,” he snorted.

  Margriete quickly untied the book from her belt and wrestled with the pages. Her face lit up as she found the right spot and shoved it toward me, pointing at the lithograph on the page. “See here, the painting is important, in order to open that door,” she motioned to the life-sized door to our ri
ght, “We have to first open this one,” she pointed to the same door in the painting.

  “Seems simple enough,” I said, watching in fascination as the picture in the book glowed gold under Margriete’s touch.

  “Well but that’s where we hit a snag. I don’t really remember how I did it exactly. There was something…” she trailed off as she brought her hand up and pressed her fingers hard against her forehead.

  Sam wiggled the handle of the real door, giving it a good yank, but it didn’t budge. I turned back and looked at the painting, reaching up toward it with an inquiring hand. As my hand fell upon the surface, I gasped as it sank right through.

  Sam laughed, “Hey, check this out.” He motioned toward Margriete.

  Margriete turned and looked back at us as I reached into the painting as far as I could, up to my shoulder. I wiggled my fingers, seeing that my arm was now painted within the art itself, becoming a part of it. Visually, my reach was hardly long enough to reach the door handle of the painting, as though I were positioned on the other side of the room.

  “Of course!” Margriete’s mind seemed to compound its memories, making sense of the jumble. “Elle, you need to go in there and open it from inside the painting.”

  I pulled my arm back out, now covered in thick oil paint as it pooled on the floor of the cave. “No way!” I cried as I slopped the paint from my arm, “I’ll drown in it!”

  “Come on Elle,” she urged.

  “Why me? Why can’t you do it?” I walked away from the painting to the other side of the room.

  Margriete’s body was twisted with excitement and anxiety, “Because you can fly.”

  A sharp exhale escaped my lips and I found that my new talent finally had a downside. “Well, so can Sam!” I retorted.

  “Sam’s too big Elle, he’ll destroy it.”

  I was pacing now, my nerves alive with fear. “But I’m still not very good at this whole changeling thing. And how will I open the door? With my beak?”

  Margriete shook her head in defiance, “No, you must change back once you’re in there, and then change again and fly out. You’ll have to take a deep breath and concentrate.”