Ula (Born of Shadows Book 1)

by J. R. Erickson

  He handed her the water, and she took a long drink, welcoming the slow carbonated burn.

  "So," he started, leaning towards her, his expression grim. "First, thank you for joining me on this,” he rolled his eyes, “satanic adventure. But we can’t just stare longingly into each other's eyes all night.”

  She smiled. They could, but they’d most likely end up dead as a result.

  “We have to do something, and it's going to be confusing, and it might be pretty terrifying."

  He spoke slowly as if she might get spooked at any moment and make a run for it. Apparently he'd forgotten that they were in the center of a lake.

  "I have directions, sort of.” He pulled a tattered journal from his bag.

  "Directions?" She watched him flip to a page covered in tiny cursive writing.

  "Yes, from Claire, my sister”

  “Tobias killed her?”

  “Yes,” he said quickly and continued. “They’re directions to a secret island, but it takes a special person to use them. That’s you.”

  She nodded, beginning to believe him.

  He turned another page and passed the journal to her. A large, hand-drawn lake covered both sides with several landmarks scribbled along the edges. A gray area marked the sunken island that they were on.

  "You have to use a pendulum," he told her, pulling a small, round crystal suspended from a silver chain from the bag.

  She clasped the crystal in her palm, moonlight glittering on its surface.

  "Do you understand how they work?" he asked her.

  "Not exactly. I've heard of them, but I've never used one."

  "Yeah, me neither." He leaned forward and flipped the journal to the previous page. "There's an explanation here." He pointed to a block of writing and Abby read it carefully. It seemed pretty simple. Just hold the pendulum over the map in different areas. If it moved in a circle - they'd found their desired location, if it moved in a straight line – they were at the wrong place.

  "What's the island, Sebastian? The lost city of Atlantis?"

  "It's meant to be obscure, in case someone finds it, but I know what you mean. It’s pretty bizarre."

  She sighed in exasperation and leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

  “You believe in all this, then? Really?”

  “Are you serious?” he asked. “Abby, you were there tonight, right? Those things, the inhuman things, were not a figment of your imagination.”

  Yeah, she knew that, but still, was nothing simple left in the world? Would every day be a series of discoveries that completely obliterated everything that she thought she knew?

  “Listen, what you’re feeling right now, I’ve been there, kind of anyway, and honestly, it gets easier. I mean, it gets harder first, but then it gets easier.”

  “Wow, thanks,” she sighed, re-reading the scratchy writing. She started to feel overwhelmed and tears boiled at the back of her eyes.

  He moved close and hugged her, wrapping his arms around her back and squeezing. She allowed herself to feel him with no guilt, no fear. She could hear the rapid thud of his heart through his t-shirt, the intoxicating warmth of his closeness. His lips stayed near her ear, but he did not kiss her, only rested his head against hers and breathed.

  She had once read that smell was a direct extension of the brain. Sebastian exuded an enthralling mixture of grass and sweat and, more recently, lake water. Unable to tell whether it was her brain or her heart snuggling deeper into that smell, she inhaled a few more deep breaths, hoping to forever ensnare his scent in the capsule of her mind.

  Having Sebastian made it easier to believe in the fantastic. She was not alone with her delusions.

  She shivered as the wind picked up around them. The boat swayed, gently and then faster, the water lapping at the sides. Sebastian pulled away, his eyes narrowing into the empty night. The fear, only moments ago abated, settled over Abby as Sebastian returned to his bench. The calm water, moved by the wind, started to form small white caps, then larger ones. They still drifted over the sunken island, but the waves were turning violent and thrusting them towards deep water. Abby peered over the side as the sandy bottom sloped downward and then disappeared.

  Chapter 16

  Abby fell forward, tossed by a wave, and the crystal dropped from her hand and slipped beneath Sebastian's bench. He gripped the boat-edge and reached beneath him, but a shadow of clouds slipped over the moon, and they were cast into darkness. Abby could not see Sebastian, only hear him, as he fumbled along the floor. She wanted to help, but each movement was met by another angry swell that nearly threw her overboard.

  "Stay on the floor," Sebastian yelled, his voice nearly drowned in the wind.

  They both could swim, but the combination of icy waters and a raging storm left even expert swimmers in danger. They had no life jackets, and not a soul, outside the two, knew of their current location.

  An instant of guilt surged over Abby at the thought of her parents. She felt the tears bubbling up, advancing on the thread of bravery that she so desperately needed.

  "Here." Sebastian thrust the crystal and journal into her hands. A sliver of moonlight seeped through the clouds, illuminating their boat and, worse, the stormy waters.

  She shook her head but clung to both frantically as another whitecap smashed against the boat. There was no point trying to use the pendulum, they were in a storm; they couldn't possibly row their way out of it.

  "Yes," Sebastian cried, nodding his head and pointing at the journal. "You have to!"

  Her hands shook as she flipped the page, pressing the journal flat against the bench as the wind tried to rip it away. She braced her forearm over the center of the book, gripping the crystal chain in her left hand and dangling it over the map. At first it swung wildly and she feared that it would rip from the delicate silver chain.

  It didn’t, and she watched in wonder as a strange calm settled over the air just above the journal. The tempest continued to thrash around them, but the crystal slowed and then stopped. Gradually, as if with great effort, the crystal began to swing in a straight line. She looked at Sebastian, who nodded vigorously, but continued to clutch the boat as it lurched from side to side. She moved the crystal to another area of the map, but again it swung in a straight line. Three more times she shifted the crystal, three more straight lines. In the distance, a flare of white lightning illuminated the sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Abby jerked in fear, ripping her hand away from the journal, but Sebastian lunged forward and pushed it back.

  "Don't stop!" She barely heard him.

  She held the crystal behind the sunken island, expecting another straight line. It swung back and then, rather than falling forward, it arched to the right and completed a circle and then another. They stared as it revolved again and again, faster, as if gaining in urgency with each rotation.

  Sebastian did not wait, he gripped the oars furiously, turning the boat towards a phantom destination that neither he nor Abby could see. The waves fought them like a battalion of molten soldiers, dissolving and rebuilding with infinite life. The water splashed into the boat; Abby thrust the crystal and journal back into the bag, a flimsy protection from the flooding waves. Behind them, lightning and thunder continued its savage descent onto the lake, but Abby faced forward, preferring the wet spray to the terrifying flashes. Sebastian shifted between grunts and what sounded like prayers as he drove the oars down. As they rowed, the storm transformed into a deafening roar at their backs, and, with a final thrust, they slid from the turbulence into a mass of fog. As quickly as the storm had come, it dissipated. The fog fell upon them in thick folds that strangled the last of the moonlight and swallowed the squall like a black hole. Sebastian stopped rowing as the boat glided into the eerily calm waters.

  "What is this?" she whispered, expecting the sound of her voice to be sucked from the air before it could take form.

  "Defenses," he breathed, squinting into the mist.

  She star
ted to question him, but a strange wail silenced her. She thought of the Sirens of Greek mythology, realizing that Sebastian had done the same, shoving his hands tight against his ears. She lifted her own hands, but paused as the words became clear beneath the howls.

  Beware those strangers who idle by

  A mishap may befall you

  And enemies set to trespass here

  Would best to turn away in fear

  For death is almost guaranteed

  But if you claim your gift a virtue

  Stay steady on your path

  No friends that meet us on their way

  Will face the witches' wrath

  She wished for a pen and paper, as if she could even see her hands to quickly scrawl the words. As they drifted along, the song grew muffled, fading like an ambulance siren as it raced into the night. When it was gone, she waved a hand in front of Sebastian, letting him know that it was safe to uncover his ears.

  "It's stopped." He sounded surprised and uneasy, as if she might try to steer them into a pointed cliff.

  "It's okay. It was just a message, a warning, I think." She repeated the song as best she could, and he listened closely, nodding as if in agreement.

  "You could hear them,” he said. “I only heard a horrible screeching."

  "Yes, but you covered your ears, Sebastian," she argued, not willing to accept this newfound uniqueness.

  "No," he shook his head. "We wouldn't have heard the same thing, I'm sure of it."

  She didn't say anything because she wanted them to be together, in all of it, no one-sided experiences.

  The fog started to lift. It fanned out, moving away from them, and allowing a circle of clarity around the boat. Abby shuffled off the floor, back onto the bench, her feet planted in an inch of water. It soaked through her slip-ons, making her toes squish noisily with each shift.

  Sebastian’s boxers were soaked. He busied himself scooping handfuls of water back into the lake. They weren't going to sink, but the less water, the better. The cold wetness that earlier had soothed Abby turned into body-numbing agony, accompanied by constant chafing and discomfort. She joined him, thrusting handfuls of water from the boat. She tried to keep her teeth chattering to a minimal, knowing that Sebastian would be motivated by some gene of chivalry to keep her warm, rather than ridding the boat of excess water.

  When he reached a knuckle scraping level, he gave up on the water and switched back to rowing. The moonlit lake, sans storm, had returned - a most romantic scene under more pleasant circumstances. Through the water, she saw that they still drifted above the sunken island, but near the rear, in a place where the sand sat peacefully five or more feet below them.

  A long silver fish passed beneath the boat, moving so slowly that she wondered if he was wounded. He circled the boat twice and then swam up to the surface, briefly skipping out of the water.

  “It’s a messenger,” Sebastian said excited, peering over the boat edge.

  She started to argue, but the fish had begun to swim ahead.

  It slid to the right, and Sebastian followed, aiming the small boat. The fish picked up speed, and Sebastian strained to keep up, sweat glazing his face and neck as he pumped the oars. The newly calm waters greatly reduced his effort, but the fish kept gaining, darting beneath the water. Abby leaned forward on her bench, pointing and shouting out directions, but in the deep water she quickly lost sight of him.

  She could sense Sebastian's frustration, but he remained silent, simply rowing forward in hopes of spotting their small guide. A mass of gray clouds spilled over the moon, casting them in darkness once again.

  "Well, so much for that," she broke the silence, giggling uncomfortably. The foreign bark of her laugh echoed over the still waters.

  Sebastian leaned forward and placed a hand on her knee, saying nothing, but comforting her immensely.

  A gap opened in the clouds, and the moonlight streamed down. Abby gasped and nearly fell over the side of the boat as she reeled backwards. Looming ominously before them was a massive fortress, turrets twisting toward the sky, their tips like freshly sharpened blades. The castle, as it shifted into full view, sat atop a mass of sandstone cliffs, like those they'd glimpsed earlier in the night, its bulk perched on decaying hunks of rock. Abby stared, mouth agape, at the familiar palace that had not been there only moments before.

  "We found it," Sebastian breathed.

  "We have?" Her words were barely a squeak.

  As they watched, a small object disembarked from the cliffs and began to move towards them. Abby wanted to row away, to hurry back across the lake and not begin this journey, but of course it was too late for that. She remembered the castle from her dream and knew it to be the same.

  As the object slid closer, gliding ethereally, as if floating above the water rather than in it, the shape of a narrow, black boat appeared. Abby could see the outline of a tall, slim figure perched behind an enormous silver steering wheel. It was obviously engine powered, but not a sound broke the still night. Abby’s stomach bunched in a knot.

  The pilot's gaunt face glowed with the pearl-like quality of a man who not only avoided the beach, but also traveled even short distances beneath a vast umbrella. His long, thin arms moved the wheel effortlessly, pulling alongside their boat with expert accuracy. He wore a black shirt beneath a brown tweed coat, and long, gray wool slacks hung over his rail thin legs. Strange boating attire, Abby thought. His eyes looked dark, brown maybe, and they hid beneath a mass of bushy, black eyebrows that were considerably thicker than the thin black hair speckling his skull.

  "Follow me," he said curtly in a subdued British accent, his pursed mouth quivering. He immediately veered the boat back toward the cliff.

  Sebastian did not question him, but pushed the oars into the water.

  Abby started to speak, but what could she say, after all? Take me back to Tobias and the others. I'd rather fight them than this quiet Englishman who looked at us like we were rats caught on the kitchen counter.

  She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, massaging her knuckles like rosary beads. She wasn't a religious person, but the idea of rosary beads had always soothed her, as if they were a tangible link to a spiritual higher power. She repeated the few bedtime prayers in her head that she remembered from childhood, her eyes growing wider as they neared the castle.

  The rock wall was a flat sheath, slippery with lake water. Algae snaked up the face like ivy. No stairs or dock revealed their passage to the fortress above, but the weedy man continued on, pointing his boat directly at the cliff.

  "Oh," Abby gasped as the black boat nearly collided with the rock, but no explosion boomed. Instead, the man disappeared into the wall as if he were merely a spirit traveling on a ghost ship.

  "There's a hole," Sebastian told her, apparently reading the horror in her scrunched shoulders.

  And there was a hole, though such a deep black that it blended completely into the cliff and easily tricked the eye. As they sailed through it, Abby looked up at the rock ceiling bearing down on them. Tiny black pearls layered the surface like oil-sheathed bubble wrap.

  "Bats," Sebastian told her, looking up as well. "Micro bats."

  As he said it, one of them shifted and the entire bed shuddered. Abby shuddered in response. Bats were not a great fear, but considering her only escape from the greasy creatures was the ebony water below, she didn't want to disturb them.

  They emerged from the cave into an enormous lagoon that glittered gloriously in the night. A wide, stone staircase wound down from the castle, ending at a weather beaten dock.

  The strange man docked quickly, leaping from his boat like a gazelle and securely fastening it with ropes. He reached a slender hand toward their rowboat and pulled it in, tying it quickly, without a word.

  Abby gazed at the lagoon in silent awe. Lush bushes and flowers fell down the sloping grasses that led from castle to beach. Thick, colorful blossoms bloomed in the moonlight. She saw lilies and jasmine and mounds of flowers
that she could not name, but imagined grew in private tropical gardens. The flowers scrambled along the edge of the staircase, racing to the castle, which stood over them like a loving, but stern, mother.

  Sebastian took her hand and pulled her from the boat, squeezing it as they followed the gaunt man away from the water. Up the steps and across a cobblestone pathway, they passed a grand mahogany door adorned with a heavy brass pentacle doorknocker.

  They curved around a stone tower and advanced down a short staircase passing beneath a glassy eyed gargoyle protecting a stained glass door. The man pulled out a long skeleton key and inserted it into the lock. It clicked, and a deadbolt slid back. They entered a giant chamber with a cement staircase spiraling up the center. Dozens of doors stood along the stairway; their footsteps clapped loudly as they moved up. The man stopped at the fourth doorway, again inserted his skeleton key, and pushed them into a brightly lit room.

  Chapter 17

  Sebastian and Abby stumbled in together. Abby blinked around the room, light from the candles leaving pockets of darkness that her eyes could not pierce.

  "Our guests have arrived." The thin man addressed several people clustered in chairs.

  As Abby and Sebastian moved deeper into the space, she scanned their surroundings. The circular room housed a vast library with bookshelves climbing to the exquisite ceiling. The ceiling dipped and soared in rounded arches, painted with elaborate images of the zodiac, symbolized by pink skinned goddesses and enchanted beasts. It reminded her of the Sistine Chapel, although Michelangelo may have begged to differ.

  A woman, with long silver hair flowing over each shoulder, beckoned them to a set of empty chairs near a blazing fire. Her face was lined but lovely, her skin softly worn like nude rose petals.

  "Please, sit."

  Abby lowered herself into a squat chair upholstered in velvety fuchsia, her legs and butt warmed by the hot seat. Sebastian moved his chair closer to hers and sat down as well, facing the group.