Olivia

by Robert Oliver

  “I will open the door. But we must prepare. In the human world, we wear clothing, but in the grove, we do not separate ourselves from the wild.”

  “Can we make an exception in this case?” she asked. “I’m half-Druid, and I—”

  “There is no half-Druid, Niv’leana. Our blood runs through your veins. You are part of the wild.”

  “I’d rather not be naked.”

  “You would stand out among our kind. In the grove, wearing clothing is considered an embarrassment. In the nude, you will be accepted, as you put no barriers between you and your kin.”

  “I suppose there is no other choice.” She took hold of the Amulet of Balance around her neck. “Can I keep this?”

  “Of course,” he replied. “There is something else you should know. Time in the grove flows differently than in the outside world. Right now, inside the grove, we are in twilight. The sun has just set. In nearly twenty-two hundred years, a day in the outside world will pass.”

  She held her mouth open in disbelief. “So… are you saying that if I spend a day in there—”

  “Only a fraction of a second will pass in the regular world.”

  “Astonishing.”

  “Are you ready?”

  She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

  He opened the chest. It was empty. “Our clothes go in here.”

  She peered inside but found nothing. “Where are everyone else’s clothes?”

  “They are there. The chest is spelled. It contains only what you put inside it. The contents are only accessible to you.”

  “Fascinating.”

  He removed his garments and put them in the chest, then closed the lid. She couldn’t delay it any longer, so she took off her clothes and opened the chest. For her, it was empty. She folded her clothes neatly inside and closed it.

  Her face grew hot from embarrassment. She kept her back to her father to maintain a shred of dignity. She knew he thought nothing of it, but she had spent all her life as a human.

  “You will grow accustomed to our natural state,” Farius said.

  “I guess so…”

  “I assure you no one in the grove will gawk or stare.”

  She knew he was right, but it did little to soothe her discomfort. She turned to see her father but kept her eyes fixed to his. “How do we enter?”

  He motioned all around them. “We are in the grove. It exists in a different… state. It is difficult to explain in the human tongue.” He pointed to a leaf. “This tree is immortal. It is a spirit that guards the grove. It produces a magical dust that, when inhaled, allows a Druid to enter the grove.”

  “I ran my finger through the dust before you came, not knowing what I was doing.”

  “That would not be sufficient. It must be directly inhaled.” He took some of the dust on his finger and put it to his nose. “Like this.”

  After a sharp breath, his body faded to transparency, then vanished. It was her turn. She gathered the magical essence on her finger and swiftly inhaled.

  At first, nothing happened. But then, in an instant, the clearing expanded dramatically to reveal a much larger opening. The welcome tree disappeared, the visible sky through the canopy darkened, and now a thick layer of moss, rather than dirt, crept beneath her toes.

  The forest was similar but adopted a more ancient appearance. Moss covered the trunks, the trees were taller and had broader leaves, and a faint mist hung in the air. The increased humidity would normally be unpleasant, but this combination pleased her far more than the dreary forest leading up to the grove.

  Her surroundings, though completely foreign, melded perfectly with what she expected. She didn’t feel out of place at all. In fact, despite not having yet seen a soul, she instinctively knew she was welcome.

  There was no doubt in her mind—she was home.

  Chapter 26

  Olivia opened her eyes to find herself in her bed in the temple. Early morning sunlight streamed in her window. Her mouth was dry, her fingers were sore, and her chest ached. Her head swam when she sat upright in bed. She wore a chemise rather than a dress and her feet were bare. Something was terribly wrong.

  Before she could get out of bed, Frasie entered her room.

  “You’re awake!” Frasie said.

  She groaned. “I think so.”

  Frasie rushed to her bed and sat beside her. “Oh, I was so worried about you. Are you alright?”

  “I… I don’t know. Am I?”

  “You caused quite a stir in the upper city,” Frasie said. “Someone found you with a blade sticking in your chest.”

  So that’s what the pain was. She stood, with Frasie’s help, and walked to her full-length mirror, then removed her chemise. There was a scar between her breasts. She ran her fingers along its smooth edges.

  “Emira healed you. It didn’t go past your sternum. Someone pushed the blade so hard it pierced the bone. If it had been a bit to the side, it would have punctured your lungs or heart.”

  Bits and pieces of what had occurred began to filter back into her memory. The searing pain of the blade. People gathered around her. Their horror-filled faces. Someone picked her up. Then nothing more.

  “Do you have any idea who did this?” Frasie asked.

  She staggered back to the edge of the bed. “Someone who hates me.”

  “Well, of course! I mean, do you have any enemies?”

  “One or two.”

  “Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Frasie asked.

  She eyed a glass on her nightstand and edged toward it.

  “I’ll get it for you,” Frasie said.

  She finished all the water in several large gulps. It didn’t immediately sate her thirst, but her lips no longer stuck together.

  Frasie pointed to her wound. “Emira said you might have a scar.”

  Mere weeks ago, a scar anywhere on her body, especially in such an intimate place, would have mortified her. But this morning, she couldn’t have cared less.

  “What happened, Olivia?”

  She tried to take a deep breath but was paralyzed by a shooting pain.

  Frasie put her hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  She took a shallower breath and nodded. “I’m fine. I don’t know.”

  “You don’t remember any of it?”

  “Very little,” she replied.

  “The soldiers searched the area but didn’t find anything. I’m going to look again, though, hopefully—”

  She extended her hand to stop Frasie. “I appreciate it, but it isn’t necessary.”

  “You don’t want to find who did this?”

  She sighed. “What good would it do?”

  Frasie produced her athame. “This was the blade. Aiden said I shouldn’t have cleaned it as it might have faint prints of the person who used it.” Frasie shrugged. “I wish he had told me sooner.”

  As soon as she took the blade, she realized why her fingers ached. She had grabbed hold of the handle so tightly that it hurt her fingertips.

  “You didn’t have any other injuries,” Frasie said.

  “I appreciate all you have done for me,” she replied. “I truly do. You, Niv, Shareis, Aiden… all of you. I don’t deserve it.”

  Frasie took her hand. “Of course you do, Olivia. Don’t you remember what Aiden said before Nivvy left? It’s what family does.”

  She feigned a smile. “You’re right. I—”

  Aiden entered her room. “Frasie, I think I—”

  “Aiden!” Frasie bolted from the edge of the bed and stood in front of her, blocking his view. Despite her quick reflexes, Frasie was a bit late. Aiden’s face grew red as he immediately departed the room.

  “Humans,” she muttered under her breath.

  Frasie’s wide eyes looked toward the door, then back at her. “Maybe you should… um….”

  “Get dressed?” she asked.

  Frasie fretted a moment more, still glancing between her and the door. “Well, I didn’t want to tell you what to do,
but…”

  She stood and slipped on her chemise. “It means nothing to me, but I know it does to you. I am sorry.”

  “No need to apologize,” Frasie replied.

  “Aiden, it’s safe,” she said loudly. “You can come in now.”

  Frasie pointed to her chemise. “But… Olivia, maybe you want to…” Frasie’s face contorted as she struggled to express herself.

  The door creaked. “Are you sure?” Aiden asked.

  “Yes, it’s fine.”

  Frasie bobbled her head. “Well… umm…”

  Aiden cautiously returned to the room. He locked eyes with her for a moment, then looked away. “I am so sorry, Olivia. I should have knocked.”

  “It’s fine, Aiden. Please, think nothing of it.”

  “I think I figured out a way to check for fingerprints on the dagger’s handle even though it has been cleaned.” He held open a book. “These are instructions for lifting a partial print. I’m hoping this will work. Do you still have the blade, Frasie?”

  “I gave it to Olivia,” Frasie replied.

  He extended his hand. “Do you mind if I see it?”

  “I am grateful for your help, Aiden. But if it’s alright with you, I’d like to put this whole mess behind me.”

  He frowned. “You don’t want to find the attacker?”

  “And do what with her?”

  Frasie cocked her head. “Her? So, it was a she. Do you remember anything else?”

  “Oh, no, I mean… it could have been a man,” she replied. “Just a figure of speech.”

  She wasn’t sure if Frasie and Aiden accepted her explanation.

  “Well, it’s up to you,” Aiden said. “But if we find them—”

  “We probably won’t.”

  He sighed. “Maybe not.” He closed the book. “Again, Olivia. I’m sorry. I’ll give you some privacy so you can rest. Frasie, are we still having lunch today?”

  “Of course, Aiden.”

  He nodded. “Good. Well, I’ll see both of you ladies later.”

  “Thank you, again, Aiden,” she said.

  She sat the athame on her nightstand. Frasie gazed at it while she spoke. “If you change your mind, let me know.” Frasie bunched her fist. “I’d love to give him or her some payback.”

  “You’re too kind, Frasie.”

  “If you need anything…”

  “I will.”

  After Frasie left, she walked to the window and stared at the city below. She could almost see the spot near the retaining pond where she tried to take her life. How could she have been so clumsy? Had she fallen so low she couldn’t manage to properly end her own miserable existence?

  She picked up the athame and regretted not being able to use it in any further spell work. A sorceress’s athame was not to be used as a weapon or tool, but as a blade to channel energy. Yet, it seemed a fitting end to use the same athame her mother had given her to put an end to the horrid existence she now suffered.

  Flashes of the incident with her ex-lover that surfaced during the session with Kytis raced through her mind. The procedure was a failure, but at least now she realized the connection. Twice in her short life she had been forced to kill ones she loved to save herself or others. The blood was on her hands, no matter the cause.

  Was this what was causing her such utter despair? If so, surely recognizing it would have provided some relief. At the depths of her misery she tried to take her own life, yet her attempted, and admittedly permanent catharsis, offered no relief.

  If she could have no pleasure, she reasoned, she could at least blissfully embrace a swift transition to the next life. But even this was out of reach. She leaned her head against the glass and closed her eyes.

  There were no more tears to fall.

  Chapter 27

  Niv stood in the grove and soaked in the delectable sights that now materialized around her. Large, thick trees towered to the canopy. Tree houses, nestled in the trunks, dotted the landscape. The quiet forest now came alive with activity—squirrels scurried on the ground, birds sang in the trees, and in the distance, a rabbit gnawed on some greens.

  In that instant, she understood what her father tried to explain. She was not separated from the life around her. By being naked and open to the lifeforce that surged through the grove, she saw how inseparable she was from the beautiful creation that surrounded her.

  Her father stood behind her. “Many seek a connection to the divine in books, stories, and prayer. These things are fine, but they only need open their hearts and minds to the beautiful masterpiece that lies before us.”

  “There is no greater peace.”

  “Indeed.”

  She wiggled her feet in the mossy forest floor. “It’s hard to know where I end and nature begins. Is this an effect of the magic dust?”

  “It is an effect of the grove,” Farius replied. “The magic that flows through our homeland reminds us of our true nature.”

  She scanned the seemingly endless rows of tightly nestled treehouses. “Where do you live?”

  He gestured ahead of them. “I will take you there.”

  She followed her father through the grove. They crossed a brook, not via a bridge, but rather on foot. The cool water surged around her ankles, and her feet sank in the sandy bottom. A carpet of thick grass on the opposite bank helped dry her feet. They proceeded into a more densely packed area of homes. In the center of this area lay a polished stone altar supported with thick, gnarly vines.

  She stopped in front of the altar and ran her fingers along its surface. “I’ve never felt such smooth marble.”

  “This slab is ancient. It predates even our arrival to this world.”

  “Arrival?”

  He grinned. “There is much for you to learn.”

  They walked further, crossing another small stream, until they arrived at a treehouse with a carved wooden owl overlooking its entrance. Bright yellow gems stood for eyes, casting a piercing glow to anyone who entered.

  Farius proceeded inside and motioned for her to join him. “Welcome to my home.”

  “There’s no door,” she said.

  “Without clothing, why would we need doors?”

  A wooden spiral staircase dominated the oppose end of the main room. Numerous large, fluffy pillows rested on the floor, beckoning occupants to lounge. Rustic tapestries hung on the wall and beautifully decorated clay pottery filled with fruits and vegetables sat near the staircase.

  “You have an inviting home,” she said.

  “I enjoy it immensely.” He paused in the middle of the room in front of a small table. “But it is not the same without your mother.”

  She approached and saw the jar that held Maeva’s spirit.

  “At first, I felt nothing. But after countless hours of being alone with her in this this blasted prison, I can sense her.” He sighed. “At least I think I can. Perhaps I am a lonely fool going mad.”

  She put her hand near the jar, closed her eyes, and searched with her mind.

  “What do you think?” he asked.

  “Honestly, I don’t sense her, but I do detect a presence. The magic seal dampens it dramatically.”

  “At first, I detected the same thing. But after a while, I began to feel differences in the energy that made it through the jar. She responds to things I say. The essence is more energetic now that you are here. I believe she can sense your presence.”

  She wasn’t sure if his perceptions were real or imagined, but she saw no reason to contradict him. The sparkling, moving energy inside the jar seemed to exhibit a rudimentary pattern, though it was impossible to know what it meant.

  “You said you might have a way to free her?”

  “Our Druidic magic has been unable to liberate her. At first, we did not understand why, but now, after much study, we realized that the seal uses Ael’Shanarian blood magic.”

  “Blood magic?”

  “Yes. It sounds intimidating, but it merely means magic that feeds upon life itself.
The prison is sustained by Maeva’s own energy.”

  “How insidious,” she noted.

  “Additionally, the Ael’Shanarian blood magic is only accessible to those related to the caster. Hence it is both blood as in kin and blood as in source.”

  “To break the seal, I must fight against Mae’s own power?”

  Farius nodded. “It is a wicked trap.”

  “How do we start?”

  “You are not ready,” he replied.

  “To break this spell, you must use both your Druidic and Ael’Shanarian magic.”

  “I thought you said Druidic magic wasn’t enough?”

  “It isn’t. Not alone. The life portion of the blood magic can be nullified by our magic since Druidic magic, though genomantic in expression, draws upon our own life-force. But the other key, one I sadly cannot provide, is blood ancestry.”

  “I see,” she replied. “I have not used Druidic magic.”

  “No, but I have arranged for a mentor to help you develop it to its fullest potential.”

  “Why can’t it be you?” she asked.

  “A parent is not the ideal teacher for this discipline. A third party can motivate you far more than I. A parent’s tendency, especially one of an old man who loves his daughter a great deal, is to not sufficiently push you to grow. Lyndoni was my teacher, and thus she will be yours.”

  She regretted her father wouldn’t be the one to help her hone her skills as a Druid but understood his reasoning. “If that is best.”

  “It is,” he replied. “Do not worry. We will spend plenty of time together. And, hopefully, if we can defeat Vorea’s spell, we will be reunited as family.”

  She smiled. “That would be lovely.”

  “I will introduce you to Lyndoni tomorrow. You can rest here for the evening.”

  “It is always twilight in the grove, right?” she asked. “How do I tell when it is night or day?”

  “You cannot,” he replied. “You sleep when you are tired, and wake when you are not. It is that simple.”

  “I’ll have my schedule so confused when I leave.”

  “Possibly.” He motioned to the staircase. “Let me show you where you will sleep while you are in my home.”