The Gabrielle Series Boxed Set

by Zachary Chopchinski

  “The little one’s fine” Alexandra reassured. She rose and walked to the fire behind Gabrielle.

  “The monsters were satisfied with the spirit of Hazel. Yet another reason why you must complete this. You sacrificed her soul to them. If you don't prove victorious, Hazel’s fate will be far worse than many others.

  Elizabeth followed your orders and stayed hidden. She is destined to be found tomorrow morning by other escaped slaves making their way north. She will be taken and kept safe by them but you must protect your spirits, Gabrielle.”

  “I don't know if I can do that, Alexandra. I haven't done anything but fail this entire time.”

  “Arawn doesn’t have you. You’ve been more victorious than you know.” Alexandra stroked the top of Gabrielle’s head. Gabrielle rose from her seat and stepped around to be at Alexandra’s side next to the fire.

  The flames crackled and Gabrielle wished she'd stayed home on her birthday, but knew she could never abandon the souls that needed her.

  As she stared up at Alexandra, Gabrielle noticed a small scar over her left eye. This reminded her of her own scars and how each life she earned new ones.

  “The time has come, little one. You must be as brave as you have ever been and trust your heart. Time is relative and with a willing spirit, life never ends, it only changes form.” Alexandra leaned in and kissed Gabrielle on the forehead.

  “I don't want to be alone,” Gabrielle whispered.

  “Don't worry, my love. You will never truly be alone.”

  Gabrielle nervously rubbed the cool metal of the bracelet.

  “One more question before I go,” she started, “What do the words on my bracelet mean?”

  Alexandra smiled a warm, welcoming smile.

  “I thought you’d never ask. Lucht siúil. It’s Gaelic for Traveler. That’s what you are after all, a traveler.” With that, Alexandra released Gabrielle and she fell backwards into the flame.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When Gabrielle opened her eyes again all she saw was black. She should’ve been accustomed to this, but the nothingness wore sore on her, like an old bruise trying to heal, only to get bumped again.

  She reached over and clasped her hand on her cold metal bracelet. She was back in the hidden room in the basement of the plantation house.

  She listened for the sound of the Sluagh outside of the door, but all that called for her was the lonesome sound of her own heartbeat. Reaching up to the steel frame of the cot behind her, she pulled herself to a standing position.

  Elizabeth’s body was so much smaller than what she was used to and she almost toppled over when her legs met their greatest extent faster than she’d expected. Arms out in front of her, she felt around in the dark for the wall that she knew was to her right.

  When her hand met the cold, rough stone, she ran her fingers across it, following it until she felt the crease from the door.

  Gabrielle pressed her ear up to the cold metal, desperate to make sure the Sluagh were gone before she went out into the open basement. Elizabeth was so small and fragile and Gabrielle didn't have a weapon, she knew she was no match for the beasts.

  As she focused her attention on what was beyond the wall, a rattling sound startled her and she jumped back, her heart pounding in her chest. The sound was followed by a crash and Gabrielle squeezed her eyes shut and prayed that the Sluagh weren’t looking for her.

  Alexandra said the Sluagh were content with the spirit of Hazel and that other runaway slaves would find her. What if she was wrong though? Should I risk it and go out? Gabrielle internally debated with herself for a moment before she reached out and leaned on the secret door of the room.

  The old metal made a loud groan as she pressed and Gabrielle winced at her loss of stealth. There was a loud crash and several sets of feet running. Gabrielle looked around and saw the dim glow of a lantern hidden behind a crate.

  “Hello?” she began, “Is someone there?”

  A set of jet eyes peeked around the crate and Gabrielle let out a sigh of relief. These were not the mesmerizing pits of the Sluagh, these were human eyes. As she blinked her eyes to focus, a very thin woman with short hair stepped out and looked at her.

  “What you doin’ in here little girl? Where your momma?” The woman’s voice was cracked and dry like she hadn't had water in weeks. At the mention of Elizabeth’s mother a whirlwind of emotions overtook Gabrielle and she broke down and cried. The woman rushed over and put her hand on Gabrielle’s back in a feeble attempt to comfort her.

  “It’s OK. You gonna come with us. We’re going north,” the woman said as if she could read Gabrielle’s mind. “Mindy get down here. There's a little girl.”

  Gabrielle had the sudden urge to shove her thumb in her mouth and she was surprised to find how comforting it was. She pressed the tip of her thumb to the roof of her mouth and her tears dried up as she ran her tongue across the smooth surface of her fingernail.

  The woman named Mindy appeared, came rushing down the stairs and covered Gabrielle in a thin blanket. Several more people followed behind her as a group entered the room. The group was small, three women and one man.

  Mindy was a lighter skinned black woman with chocolate eyes and a soft smile. She explained that she was an agent. Like Morrigan had been before she... before I... Gabrielle forced the thought from her mind.

  Mindy freed the others from a plantation further south. Gabrielle wondered for a moment if these were the slaves Morrigan had been trying to save when they were ambushed by the Home Guard.

  Mindy explained that they were trying to make their way to a station house in Virginia. There, a group of supporters would help get them as far north as they could.

  After a thorough search of the basement the others packed up what they’d found and the five of them set out through the house and towards the field.

  The fire that previously consumed the grain was gone, leaving no evidence of it ever having been there. Gabrielle peered into the stalks as they walked. She was hoping to see a pair of lavender eyes looking back at her but there was nothing but a sea of yellow grain.

  The trek to Virginia was quiet. They slept in the woods and station houses along the way, but the Home Guard never showed up and neither did Arawn. By the time they made it to Virginia, Gabrielle was used to her small frame and she did a good job of acting like the seven year old girl that Elizabeth had been.

  Once in the city, Gabrielle sat on a metal bench as a tall blond woman talked to Mindy. They seemed to be friendly and after what felt like forever they embraced and Mindy made her way back to Gabrielle.

  “Alright baby girl, you gonna go with this nice lady. She gonna take you up north to live with her and her husband.” Mindy was smiling but her eyes held a deep sadness in them.

  “I don't wanna go Mindy. I wanna stay here with you,” Gabrielle whined as she clutched the older woman’s arms for dear life. She'd grown close to Mindy and even though she knew this was for the best, she wanted the familiarity of being with the woman.

  “Now don't go actin like that. You gonna have a good life with Joanna. A normal life.”

  A tear rolled down Mindy’s cheek before she could paw it away. Gabrielle stood, she knew this was for the best, but the small soul of Elizabeth inside her was strong and she wanted to cry. Instead she clung to Mindy as they walked over to Joanna.

  “Take care of her. Give her a good life.”

  “I will Mindy. You stay safe. Goodbye old friend,” Joanna said as she reached out her hand to Gabrielle.

  “You ready little one?”

  Gabrielle looked hesitantly from Joanna to Mindy and back again. She reached out one shaky hand and wrapped it around the warm fingers of the woman.

  “I’m ready.”

  EPILOGUE

  Life doesn't end, it just changes form. This was one of the guiding declarations Gabrielle took from her meeting with Alexandra.

  Though their meetings were brief, Gabrielle always felt like she took some ins
piring knowledge away with her.

  She thought back to their conversation. She could almost feel the soft velvet of the chair and smell the wood from the fire. Even though their last visit was 52 years ago. Half of a century had passed and Gabrielle had loved every bit of it. No monsters. No Arawn, just life.

  For the first few years, she wondered which corner Arawn would be waiting around. What night would his hounds come for her, or when Carman would make an attempt at her life.

  But after a while, the fear was gone. Day by day she started to find enjoyment again in being a child. Joanna and Warren were great parents. They loved her as if she were their own. She had birthday parties, she played outside in the grass and swung on the tire-swing her adopted family put up for her.

  She no longer bothered herself with panic and worry about what would happen. Fate is something that can't be controlled. She would know when it was her time to come back into the fight. Still, every night before bed she would practice fighting in her bedroom so that when it was time for her to fight, she would be ready.

  Every so often she would think of her mother. She’d wonder where her mother was and what sort of torture Arawn was putting her through. The thought enraged her, but she couldn’t begin to guess where to start looking for her. Eventually, she would calm down and over time she began to love life again.

  In her older years, she did something she'd always wanted to do. Gabrielle opened up a small tavern: The Morrigan.

  In it she filled the hall with the smell of fine food and drink. She spent many long nights in The Morrigan listening to tales from travelers from all over the world. Listening to peoples’ problems and doing her best to give a few words of encouragement.

  She may have been the only black woman in all of New England to own their own tavern, but she still made good business. This far north people were a little more accepting of who she was.

  One cold January night as Gabrielle was closing up The Morrigan she was startled by a young girl sitting in the doorway of the tavern.

  The girl was wearing a filthy brown dress and she was curled up in the corner, trying to shield herself from the bitter cold. The girl yelped in shock as Gabrielle kneeled down to check on her.

  “I’m so sorry miss!” The little girl exclaimed and flattened herself up against the wall.

  “Don’t apologize little one, I’m the one that scared you.” Gabrielle, realizing how thin and cold the child was, unlocked the tavern and motioned for the girl to follow her inside.

  “Please, come in. You look like you could use a hot cup of soup and I happen to have one you could have." Gabrielle began as she stepped into the warmth of the tavern.

  The little girl pushed herself to her feet, wrapped her arms around her chest and began to walk off into the street. Her bare feet made slapping sounds against the cobblestones as she walked.

  “I’ll be going now, miss. I’m sorry for frightenin' you,” she said to the ground. Gabrielle rushed out into the street after the girl.

  “Please, don't go. The truth is, I don’t have many people to talk to these days. You can come in and warm your bones for a while…maybe listen to a story or two.” The little girl gave a wary smile before walking back into the light.

  “I know what yer doin,” she said as she walked past Gabrielle and into The Morrigan. “Thank you, Miss.”

  Gabrielle smiled.

  “You may have a different opinion after you're forced to listen to a few of my stories. They sure can be—” Gabrielle stopped mid-sentence as she noticed something strange about the girl. A small scar above her eye.

  “What did you say your name was little one?” Gabrielle asked, her eyes fixated on the scar.

  “It’s Alexandra, Miss. What’s yours?” she asked as the two walked into the tavern and closed the door to the harsh elements.

  “The name’s Gabrielle. It’s nice to meet you, Alexandra,” Gabrielle could hardly contain herself. This was her calling. It was time to get back into the fight.

  “OK, first lesson Alexandra is always wear running shoes.” Gabrielle said as she poured the two of them a cup of hot chamomile tea.

  “What?” Alexandra looked perplexed, it was clear she hadn’t thought about wearing shoes of any sort in quite some time.

  “Yes. It’s very important to always wear a pair of shoes. Even with your dress. You never know when you’ll need to run.”

  Curiosity and Arawn’s Penance

  A Gabrielle Novel: Book 4

  PROLOGUE

  Evil presents itself in many forms. Some are boisterous in intent, while others hide behind the veil of righteousness. In any instance, the one thing that allows evil to flourish and bloom into its most baleful form is the inaction and blind support of those drawn to its sway. Those that forgo their own inhibitions and allow the putrid darkness to consume them often don’t know they are a marionette to forces beyond their reach.

  Throughout time, this toxin has created a rift that has caused the end of many things. Human turned against human, blood against blood. The only outcome of these forces is the inevitable destruction of one faction or another. It is not until after these battles have been fought and lives extinguished that the combatants look to the blood on their own hands and sense the gravity of their actions.

  Lost in thought, not of this caliber, a young soldier walked along dark passages in a hidden section of a government building. He hadn’t been to these parts before, but being a good soldier, he always followed orders. His boot steps echoed down the long, cobbled hallway alongside the man and woman he escorted. Light from small lamps along the walls and vibrant red flags were the only aspects of this march that didn’t remind the young man of a dungeon in a castle.

  He tugged at the base of his sleeves to straighten his uniform. The soldier didn’t know who he was escorting, but he knew who waited for them at the end of the tunnels. Looking his absolute best was imperative, the Fuhrer was notorious for appearance, and meeting with him, before the Thule Society, made the young soldier’s heart race.

  As the group rounded the last corner, the soldier saw a light beam from the end of the corridor, signaling their destination. He ventured a look to his side at the man and woman he escorted and took a last moment to examine them as best he could. Since the moment he had greeted them at the entrance to the compound, the two had remained silent. The man walked in front of the woman, with her obediently following behind him like a puppy following its human.

  In the yellow light, the man’s pale skin almost appeared to match the very shade of the glow. With his well-tailored suit and long, silver hair that cascaded down his shoulders, he looked futuristic. The dark glasses that sat perfectly on his nose masked his eyes, yet at brief moments, the young soldier could have sworn they flashed a deep red.

  The soldier then shifted his attention to the woman that followed behind. Her ghostly complexion clashed with the brightness of her ruby hair. Her eyes appeared to be green but were lost in the strange milky gray within them.

  “Tend to your task, boy. She is of no concern to you, and I would strongly suggest you remember that,” the man’s voice slithered into the soldier’s ear, causing an instant chill. The soldier snapped his gaze back to the doorway, swallowing hard as a bead of sweat broke out along his hairline. When they reached the end of the hall, the soldier paused for a moment, drew a final breath, and pressed the door open.

  The group stepped into a large room. Along the walls were empty glass cabinets. Statues rose nearly three stories toward the top of the cathedral-type ceiling. Lavish silks adorned nearly every visible surface, and a thick plume of smoke hung heavily in the air. A sweet, yet earthy, smell washed over the soldier, and he felt as though he were walking through a camp of gypsies.

  Under the canopy of intense smoke, a large table ran the length of the room. Countless candles, dishes of potpourri and smoke, platters with strange substances, and other oddities covered its surface. On either side of this table were dark silhouettes of peopl
e in some sort of ceremonial garb. Their hoods pulled over their heads, hiding their faces.

  At the head of the table was the only man not wrapped in a cloak. His jet-black hair parted off to the side, and his perfectly symmetrical mustache sat atop a pursed lip. He wore the most elaborate officer’s uniform the soldier had ever seen. Dozens of honors, insignias, and medals coated his chest and upper arms.

  “Mein Fuhrer! I have come bringing your guests as requested!” The soldier shot to attention, extending his arm out in a perfect salute. He waited for approval to lower his arm, but after a few moments, no such approval came. In an awkward motion, the soldier slowly lowered his arm and looked from The Fuhrer to the floor, attempting with all his might not to offend his superior. After another several moments of uncomfortable silence, Adolf Hitler spoke.

  “These are not guests of mine. They have requested, in grand fashion, an audience with me and the Thule Society. Soldier, present these visitors to the society,” Hitler commanded, motioning to the table. The soldier snapped another salute and turned to the man and woman he had escorted. His heart leaped into his throat and the edges of his vision pulsed with terror. The man had vanished. Confused, the soldier looked at the massive door that was still shut and guarded.

  “I think we are far past mere introductions, don't you?” a snide voice pierced the air, and the young soldier turned on his heels to find the man standing just behind the Fuhrer. His hand was clutching the head of the ornate chair and his long, claw-like fingers digging into the velvet fabric.

  The occupants around the table responded with similar surprise, and hushed mumbles emerged. All of the cloaked men withdrew back into their seats and slid away from the table. The young soldier threw his hand to his hip and grabbed at his sidearm. At that very moment, a cold hand grasped him by the shoulder, and he froze in place. The woman had suddenly come to life and delicately placed her hand on the boy. She stared with a dead expression into his eyes and shook her head. Her movements seemed stiffened like a corpse coming to life, and the soldier slowly released his grip on the pistol.