Heart of the Resonant: Book 1: Pulse (Resonant Series)

by B. C. Handler

  I scratched my head. “Like a magical disease?”

  Neepa snorted. “No, Al, of course not. Universal consciousness. A person’s unique energy dictates their mind, but their spirit is eternal. While the spirit undergoing numerous transformations, it never forgets anything it gains. All spirits are united by the common thread from the One so everyone is connected, but blood relatives even more so.”

  I sagged back in my chair and rubbed my temples. “Fucking magic,” I said with a heavy sigh.

  “Does your head hurt?” Neepa leaned closer towards me, her eyes roaming me as if I were terminally ill.

  “Just had my mind blown. Again.”

  She gave that knowing smile of hers and leaned back. I looked at the book again and flipped it open. The text looked like a blend of Korean and Sanskrit; no rhyme or reason, or any semblance of any grammar mechanics.

  “Well, can’t get very far just speaking the language. Would you teach me how to read and write?”

  Neepa’s eyes widened. “You want to learn?”

  “Why not? I was a little excited seeing all your books, but now I’m kind of bummed that I can’t read any of them. So yeah, teach me. And being illiterate might be a problem down the line.”

  Neepa looked absolutely shocked. Her lips trembled. “I-I-I––I’ll do my best!” She bowed her head deeply as if I were royalty. She peeked from under the brim of her hat and I saw that timid smile.

  Neepa spent the better part of the afternoon writing down all the basic parts of her language on some paper. Thankfully, it’s nothing needlessly complicated like actual Sanskrit. There were thirty consonants and seven vowels, basically. However, only the vowels were strictly unique. There are really only ten consonants and the other twenty are almost exactly the same with the exception of a dot or a dash on a section of the character––sort of like modifiers. Not exactly easy, but not impossible to grasp.

  By the late afternoon, I already had a lot of the characters memorized. I even managed to spell out my name. Though, according to Neepa, I’d really have to work on my penmanship.

  Eva came back just as the sun was setting. Her golden hair plastered to her face and her clothes hung to her with all the dirt and sweat she accumulated. Slung over her shoulder was a bundle of what looked like rabbits. Their ears were about twice as long and they had a puffy tail like that of a raccoon minus the stripes. The fur was a light shade of orange, sort of like a fox.

  After giving Neepa the almost-rabbits to prepare for dinner, Eva stripped. She dropped her sweat-soaked tunic on the floor, exposing her toned body, only a white bandeau keeping her perky swells hidden. The belt of her pants came undone and she stepped out of those, flashing me her pure white underwear before disappearing into the bathroom.

  Realizing that I watched the entire thing without blinking, I shot Neepa a slow look. She had her back turned while working with Eva’s catch.

  It was surprising to see Neepa gut, skin, and butcher those little critters with such calm efficiency. The only thing I’ve ever had to gut was fish, and even then it was a bit of an endeavor to stomach. After they were all prepped, Neepa set a couple aside and carried the rest down into the cellar for storage. She then gathered some vegetables from her garden, and then added them to the already boiling pot.

  She poured the diced meat and spices next and began stirring with a wooden spoon. I couldn’t help but snicker as I watched her. The pot was mounted on an arm that allowed it to swing in and out of the fireplace. Not exactly a cauldron, but close enough. It was humorous to imagine her cackling and uttering a rhyming-curse.

  The bathroom door swung open and out stepped Eva in a cloud of steam. I did a double take. Nothing but a towel covered her midsection, which exposed a good portion of her legs. Without her humble attire, Eva had a surprisingly athletic build: beautifully sculpted legs, tight waist, well-rounded shoulders, and muscular definition in her arms. However, as I was admiring her features, I almost overlooked the scars that riddled her.

  There was a long narrow one on her inner thigh, two scars that crossed into a crude X on her right arm, a sizeable crescent-shaped one on her right shoulder, and the newest gash on her left arm looked on its way to being a big blemish on her otherwise womanly complexion.

  My eyes traveled up her neck and then to her face. Only then did I realize she was glaring back at me.

  Her eyes bored into mine for a moment before she closed them and sighed. She bent over her scattered clothes, exposing her cleavage in the process, which became the center of my focus.

  Who wouldn’t stare?

  A liar, that’s who.

  I was too distracted to notice she flicked her wrist at me. There was a grey blur and something whooshed past my ear before I heard a thunk. I looked over my shoulder and saw a squat knife embedded in the wall behind me.

  I peed a little. Just a little.

  “Mind your gaze, Al,” she said in a low tone, “or I’ll take one of your eyes next time.”

  “Eva!” Neepa shouted. She placed her hands on her hips and pouted at the half-naked blonde. “Don’t threaten our guest. And what did I say about throwing knives in the house? And about leaving clothes on the ground?”

  Neepa actually sounded more upset about the clothes than my fifth brush with death. Sixth? I’m just going to stop counting before I jinx myself.

  Eva rolled her eyes, and, with one hand holding her towel, scooped up her clothes and made for the stairs. Neepa watched her go before she let out a sigh and gave me an apologetic smile.

  “Sorry about her, she’s a little self-conscious.”

  I looked back at the knife. “You don’t say?”

  “It’ll take a few more minutes for the stew to simmer, would you like a drink?”

  Dissociated due to shock, I answered "Sure."

  She smiled and went to the cupboard. However, instead of grabbing the tea pot, she fetched two tiny clay cups and a bottle of amber liquid from the top shelf. She fixed two cups, then handed me mine.

  I brought the cup near my mouth and my nostrils flared. “Is this…?”

  Neepa knocked back her drink, making a satisfied hum. “It’s my own spirit,” she said as she poured herself another shot. “This is meant to be enjoyed.”

  I looked at the bottles on her workbench. “What about the ones with the skull?”

  “Those... are for special elixirs,” she murmured, the event two days ago fresh in her memory.

  “And occasions?” I quipped with a grin.

  Neepa made a face when I playfully reminded her. She slammed back her second drink and made a whining sound. “…and for when my spirits are low,” she admitted with a pout.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. Neepa looked up. “I tend to need a drink when my spirits are low, too.” I tipped my drink to her and knocked back the amber concoction.

  Damn, it was good.

  It went down smooth, like a polished gem stone sliding along ice. It was youthful, light, and very soft. While it was subtle, it had layers; not overpowering yet so much to unpack: citrus, herbal tones, a little grassy, and above all else, warming. It smelled and tasted a lot like bourbon, but it tasted unique, like something else entirely.

  It was so good that I didn’t realize I was smiling.

  “Would you like another?” she asked knowingly.

  I held my cup out eagerly. “Please.”

  We enjoyed a few drinks for a bit, the liquor calming my heavy body. The warm tingling started in my fingertips and traveled towards my core as I drank, my body unwinding till everything become loose.

  As Neepa was finishing the stew, Eva came downstairs, dressed. She joined me at the table without uttering a word, helping herself to the bottle and knocking back a swig.

  Despite Eva’s earlier response, I didn’t mind being around her. So long as she wasn’t promising torture. I knew Eva meant well and she was really, really, protective.

  Neepa served the stew and we ate in pleasant silence.

  Eva retired to
her room after dinner. Neepa sat in her chair by the fireplace, reading from her books and drinking through her bottle of liquor.

  It was surprising that such a mousy woman drank, and it was impressive how well a mousy woman like her could drink. I only had a few glasses and I could already feel myself growing hazy. She easily drank twice as much as me and didn’t show in the slightest.

  While Neepa relaxed, I continued to practice my ABC’s, or whatever this world’s equivalent was. I continued on for a couple hours until my eyes felt heavy and yawns escaped my mouth. Neepa snapped her book shut and doused the fire before helping me upstairs to my room. She gave me a kiss and bid me goodnight.

  As I lay in my bed, I thought about everything I learned that day. The small introduction to Neepa and Eva’s early life, the mechanics of magic, how mages operated, and of the new language I was learning. It was an interesting and productive day. A good day.

  My eyes slowly closed and I drifted into a peaceful slumber.

  Until the nightmares came.

  Chapter 10

  Hollow eyes bored into me while a ravenous maw snapped at my face with horrid ambition. I fought back with all my strength, my stomach screaming in pain as the monster’s claws attempted to burrow themselves deeper. Harold’s screwdriver becomes fresh in my mind as I struggle against the beast, knowing that it was my best, and only chance. As I attempt to retrieve it from my pocket, my arms buckle under the monster’s strength. Its jaws sink into my neck and tears out my throat in a bloody spray.

  I awaken with a start, breathing heavily and sweating profusely. My hand went to my neck, flesh intact. I let my eyes roam over the room, making sure that I was in the same spot I went to bed the night before. Only after a few minutes of breathing did my panic subside. I fell back into my bed with a flop and let out one last breath in a rush.

  It’s been a week since the nightmares began. All of them were replays of the attack on the university. Various moments relived where luck and quick-thinking failed. I witnessed two of them tear Caroline apart. I almost threw up on the floor after that one.

  The fight with the Caster was relived, too. One where he killed Neepa in front of me, and another where he turned me into a monster and I pounced on her like a lion on raw meat. Thank goodness I’ve been waking at the crack of dawn because had Neepa greeted me after that particular nightmare, I would’ve broken down the moment I saw her face.

  Eyes heavy, head throbbing, I rolled onto my side and hid under the sheets.

  One nightmare wasn’t so violent. It was Neepa and I making love again, everything hot and passionate, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Caroline, watching us. She ran out of the bedroom door, weeping, and I went to chase after her only to see that everything beyond the door was a fiery pit. She watched me while she burned, her dark eyes judging me, asking why I brushed her aside so easily to be with another woman.

  Things were so twisted up that Neepa’s comforting reprieve drove away all the bad thoughts, but only temporarily.

  My family, friends, and crush are dead, and I just fucked a stranger. The hell is wrong with me?

  I rolled to my other side and balled up the covers in my fists.

  Why the nightmares came now, I’m not sure. I just hope that they’d come to pass. Each day gets harder and harder to put up a strong front. Neepa noticed the very first day, but I was able to chalk that up to being sore. I was tempted to confide in her, but she worried enough as is. And I was a little ashamed, too. I didn’t want her to think that I’m haunted by the choices that lead me to this point. Neepa’s quick to throw herself under the bus; she doesn’t need to feel responsible.

  It was inevitable, in a way. Once my mind started to settle, it would begin to imagine how things were in my absence. Caroline and my parents flashed across my mind again and I buried my head in my arms.

  I hoped they didn’t suffer. I truly did.

  Neepa came into my room a few hours later to wake me, which I pretended to still be asleep.

  She undid my bandages and checked how things were healing up. All the lacerations have closed up completely, leaving behind some light scabbing and pink flesh.

  “Does this hurt?” she asked while she prodded my arm gently.

  “No. It’s a little stiff, but aside from that, it feels okay.”

  “Hmm.” She let her slender fingers slide long my sides and stomach. She traced the contours of my ribs gingerly. “How about here?”

  “Feels kinda nice,” I responded.

  She placed her hand over my heart and smiled. “Your bones seem to have healed nicely.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  She turned her head to hide her face. “I-I didn’t do that much…”

  “No. You did a lot. Thank you.” I placed my hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. She met my gaze and we grew lost in each other’s eyes.

  Someone cleared their throat loudly and Neepa and I quickly withdrew our hands and jerked our heads at the door. Eva was leaning against the door jam, arms crossed over her chest.

  “They’re going to be here any minute now. Be ready.” Eva sounded especially annoyed today. She pushed herself from the frame and stomped off downstairs.

  She and I didn’t talk much the last week. I helped her collect some wood once, only nature filling the void of silence. Not that I minded all that much, even if it was awkward. It was a stark contrast to when I helped Neepa gather wild herbs. She had lots to say on the flora and fauna, telling me what was good for certain ailments as well as what was poisonous. The depth of her knowledge was remarkable, speaking like excerpts from an encyclopedia.

  “Someone’s certainly roaring to go,” I muttered when Eva was well out of earshot.

  Neepa stood. “She’s right, though. You should get ready.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, climbing to my feet.

  Neepa stood to her tip toes and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

  “I’ll get breakfast ready.” She gave me a smile and left.

  My cheeks burned as I brought my hand to my lips.

  Neepa and I haven’t been intimate since the first night. However, she did start giving me surprise kisses at random times, usually after Eva leaves or when we were alone. It was an odd combination. She was too embarrassed to do it in front of Eva, but she was more than willing to make the first move. A very strange woman.

  I got dressed and headed downstairs. Eva sat in her armchair; the one on the right of the fireplace being hers, while Neepa’s was on the left. I learned which was which after being thrown from the wrong chair one evening.

  Her worn, leather satchel sat at the feet of her chair. Eva fiddled with her boot knife, tossing it end over end in the air and catching the handle every time without looking.

  I sat down at the table, a cup of tea already waiting. The tea was pleasant enough. Coffee would’ve been fantastic, though Neepa never heard of it when asked.

  “Eva, would you like some sugar in your tea?” Neepa asked.

  “Not thirsty,” Eva responded.

  “Okay. Would you like flank meat or some fruit for breakfast?”

  “Not hungry.”

  Neepa nodded slowly then turned to me. “What would you like?”

  “Fruit’s fine.”

  I glanced back and caught Eva’s profile. She looked annoyed. Well, more annoyed.

  “So what’s the plan today?” I asked to the two of them.

  “Someone from the guild is to pick us up and brings us before the Grand Mage,” Neepa responded as she placed a plate of fruit and bread before me.

  “Well, yeah, I know that, but then what? What exactly am I going to do with her?”

  Neepa dropped a pinch of sugar in her tea and gave a shrug. “I’m afraid we don’t know. Being granted an audience with the Grand Mage is saved only for individuals of great importance. I’ve no idea what she looks like, let alone what she wishes from you.”

  “So you have no idea how this is suppose to go, then?”

  She d
ipped her head marginally. “Sorry, Al.”

  “Don’t be. I’m… I’m just a little nervous.” I drummed my fingers along the table and let out a breath. “I’m worried that I’ll have to do some trial and slay a dragon or something.”

  Neepa’s eyebrows shot up. “Why would you do that? Dragons are very noble creatures.”

  “I was just making a––Dragons are real?”

  “Yes,” she said simply.

  I brought a hand to my temple. “Of course,” I muttered. Not sure if that’s cool or terrifying yet. Though, I’d be lying if the possibility of riding a dragon didn't make me excited. “Are we going to be going to the guild, then?”

  “No,” Eva said from across the room. “We’ll be going to Lucinia.”

  That name didn't ring any bells. “Where?”

  “Lucinia.” Neepa sat next to me. “It’s the largest and most prestigious of academies in the capital, on this world for that matter. The mightiest and wisest of mages gather within those walls. The Grand Mage resides there when she isn’t traveling and oversees all the students and educators.” She fidgeted with her hands as she spoke, but her eyes twinkled with excitement.

  “So going there is a big deal, then?”

  “Being able to set foot on the grounds is a tremendous honor. Going inside.” She shivered. “It’s one of the greatest things that any mage could wish for. Common folk can never even come close to the grounds.”

  “Especially natives,” Eva called out again. “Be thankful you have Sigemond’s word. No laws protect wayward natives. Special guest or not, they’ll kill you if warranted. Don’t do anything stupid.”

  What she being overly dramatic to fuck with me?

  I turned to Neepa. “She’s not serious, is she?” I asked that somewhat jokingly, but Neepa’s hanging silence and strained smile told me otherwise. “Great. No pressure.”

  After we finished breakfast, Neepa went to her bench to work and I stayed at the table to practice my reading and writing. I progressed fairly well the past week. With little else to do, I staved off boredom by practicing for hours on end, writing the same characters hundreds of times, and flipping through the book Neepa loaned me until I began to understand a few words.