Ariel Rising

by A. J. Sparber

“It sure looks like it. I’m really happy for Ella. For them both.”

  “Me, too.” He squeezes my hand as we follow Tal and Ella up several steps to the terrace, and our table.

  “Davin!” a male voice calls from behind us. “And Tal!”

  Davin and Tal greet the man and then Davin turns to Ella and me.

  “Ladies, this is Moras. He is Corbal’s director.”

  Ella and I greet Moras, who looks middle-aged. Obviously, he’s a mortal Olympian.

  “Please, sit down and I will have someone attend to you immediately,” Moras says, as he makes sure we are comfortably seated. Then he turns on his heels and rushes off—presumably to find an attendant to attend to our every need.

  “He’s a bit intense,” I whisper. Davin nods slowly, and Tal chuckles.

  “He needs to chill out, ” Ella quips. “But that’s not my problem. I’m starving!”

  Right on cue, an attendant appears. Davin selects a wine and several appetizers.

  “Excellent choice,” Ella says, as she takes a sip of wine. “Mom would have loved it.” She takes another sip and lets the wine swish around in her mouth. “I was a little surprised when you ordered a Bordeaux, but it actually tastes like a Rothschild. Decent vintage, too. May I see the label?”

  Davin turns the bottle and hands it to Ella.

  “The label is not authentic. Neither is the bottle. This was fabricated here?” Ella asks.

  Davin arches his brow and smiles. “You know a lot about wine.”

  “It was Mom’s hobby,” she says with a wistful expression. “I was tasting wine when I was ten years old. I guess Mom thought that if I appreciated wine as an art, I would not abuse it. And she was right.”

  Ella begins to tremble.

  I steel a glance at Tal, who gives me a subtle nod, as he wraps an arm around Ella.

  “I’m fine, sweetie,” she says to Tal.

  “It’s okay to be sad,” I counter.

  “Ari is right,” Tal adds.

  Ella smiles softly and sighs, then rests her head on Tal’s chest.

  “I know. Sometimes it’s hard to deal with her being gone. I’ll be alright in a minute.”

  Tal turns slightly and wraps both arms around Ella. I can’t see her face, but I can hear the sobs. I know she has to grieve, that grieving is part of healing, but my heart aches for her.

  “I’m so sorry,” Ella mumbles.

  “There is nothing to be sorry for,” Tal says, while rubbing her back.

  “Yeah, there is. I ruined your pretty shirt. It’s streaked with mascara.”

  Tal smiles. “I have many shirts, but only one Ella.”

  Ella leans back and smiles at Tal.

  “That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

  She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, sweetly.

  “Hey, come with me so I can fix your makeup,” I say, with a wink.

  “You can come with me, but I’ll fix my own face. I’d rather not frighten anyone, ya know?”

  “I’m not that bad with makeup.”

  “Yeah you are. Give me a minute while I try to clean up my mess,” she says, as she scrubs Tal’s shirt with a dampened napkin.

  “You make cute faces when you put on makeup. I tend to look terrified,” I say as I watch Ella in the restroom’s mirror.

  “As well you should,” Ella answers with a smirk, making us both chuckle. “I’m sorry you had to put up with my little meltdown.”

  “Honey, It’s okay to miss her. It’s okay to grieve. So please don’t be sorry.”

  “Oh, Ari…” Her lower lip begins to tremble, her eyes fill with tears, and then she laughs softly. “I’m going to run out of makeup, sweetie.”

  “We’ll just stay in this restroom until you dry out. I’m in this for the long haul.”

  “I love you, Ariel Worthington.”

  “I Love you more,” I say.

  “Let’s go before the guys start to worry.”

  “You still hungry?” I ask.

  “Starving.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  The four of us take an after-dinner stroll down a meandering stone path that follows the contour of the shoreline. On one side is the beach. On the other, a seemingly endless progression of bars and cafés. We decide to stop for an after-dinner drink and choose a small, deserted patio café with a nice view of the sea.

  We find a table and are immediately approached by a young server, named Melina, who can’t seem to keep her eyes off of Davin and Tal.

  When Davin orders, she pretends to have difficulty hearing him. So she leans in close, giving him a nice view down her ample cleavage.

  “I think she likes you,” I tease, after she leaves.

  “The poor girl seems to have a hearing impairment,” Davin says, with a straight face.

  Ella snorts. “I think that girl is perfectly healthy, sweetie.”

  Davin stares at Ella and shakes his head slowly.

  “What? You don’t believe it?” she asks, in mock amazement. “It’s one of my new talents. Y’all better be careful what you say or think around me.” She tilts her head and grins, mischievously.

  Davin looks at me. “You think she can…”

  “Oh, I do. I really do,” I say.

  Davin appears to be deep in thought. “Fascinating. That’s a very useful ability to have.”

  “We play guessing games all the time,” Tal says. “I’ve had to master the art of hiding my thoughts from her.”

  Ella smiles at Davin. “Tal is being silly. I can’t read thoughts. It’s more like I can detect general feelings and attitudes. I didn’t know the server's actual thoughts. But I do know that she was very attracted to both of you…and she wanted to touch you.”

  “What is Tal thinking right now?” Davin asks.

  “I’m not sure. But he’s very happy.”

  Tal looks into Ella’s eyes and smiles, timidly.

  “Aw, how sweet,” I say.

  Whatever Ella is, whatever she can do—it’s because of me. I’m responsible and I hope she’ll always use her ability for good.

  I’m jarred back to reality by the sound of a woman’s voice behind me. She must have walked up from the beach.

  “Hello Davin. Mind if we join you?”

  I spin around in my chair. She’s pretty, with longish auburn hair, high cheekbones, and a nice figure, which is carefully poured into a very sexy black dress. And she’s petite, with delicate hands that I notice only because they happen to be rubbing Davin’s shoulders. It’s more than a friendly little rub. It’s foreplay. She has to be Reyna.

  Davin must sense the surge of energy going through me because he plants his hand on my thigh and pushes down hard—like he thinks I might want to get up and rip her head off.

  She looks me in the eye. “Hello, Ari. I am so pleased to finally meet you. I am Reyna.”

  No surprise there.

  Her eyes seem to challenge me. She wants me to lash out, to lose my composure.

  She isn’t alone. A man and another woman stand beside her. The other woman is smiling, her amber eyes sparkling. Lana. As my nanny, she dressed down. Tonight, she’s positively striking in a chic and sexy white dress that hugs curves I never knew she had. We make eye contact and her lips curl into a smile, but she fights it. I give her a subtle nod and a half-smile. It’s amazing what you can say without words.

  The man accompanying them looks like he just ate something very sour.

  Davin handles the introductions.

  Sourpuss’s name is Cylar. He’s a Sage.

  I pry Davin’s hand off my leg and stand to face Reyna, who is standing next to him.

  Channeling my inner Gandhi, I bow to her. “I am honored to meet you, Reyna.” She gives me a plastic smile that makes me want to deck her.

  I bow to Lana and Cylar. “It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

  I smile politely at Lana, then turn away, stealing a quick glance at Ella, whose brow is arched. She gives me a
wink.

  I turn back to Lana, studying her more intently. She looks like a fairy princess. A crown of silky black hair, cut in a pageboy style, frames her oval face, which is dominated by large amber eyes, an upturned nose, and very full lips. She’s the polar opposite of nanny Lana, who had long straight hair, who wore little or no makeup, and whose favorite outfit was an oversized tee shirt over faded jeans. I like the new look. I like it a lot.

  Cylar doesn’t look pleasant at all. He seems arrogant and aloof. His brown hair is cut short—not a single strand out of place. His features are pedestrian, dominated by a large mouth that seems remarkably adept at frowning, scowling, and smirking. And he looks a little dangerous—as if he’s calculating killing scenarios.

  Everyone takes a seat and that’s when things begin to get a little weird.

  Chapter 25

  It has to be a test. The Fates want to test the limits of my patience. That’s why Reyna is here. And that’s why she’s doing everything she can to annoy, anger, and antagonize me. Her primary weapons are her hands—one of which is in constant contact with some part of Davin’s body. I manage to maintain a civil bearing, resisting the impulse to stab her with my spoon.

  “Ari, dear, have you been to Davin’s island?”

  “Mm-hmm,” I say, gripping my spoon tightly.

  “Carina is so lovely. You know, he and I shared so many…” Reyna pauses and licks her lips, as she gazes up at Davin. “Well, let’s just say that if Davin’s bed could talk, I would be very embarrassed. Have you slept in Davin’s bed, dear?”

  She’s trying to sound innocent and shy. It’s not working.

  “I am still getting acclimated to Olympian culture, Reyna. On Earth, such a question would be considered rude—even if the couple were committed. I’m really sorry, but I have no interest in Davin’s past dalliances,” I say, smiling demurely, as I lower my eyes and tap the commitment brand over my heart.

  Davin’s face is hiding inside cupped hands. I squeeze his thigh, hoping to reassure him that I’m not concerned about his past.

  Reyna stands up and glares at my chest. She sees my brand.

  Her lips slowly curl into a scowl. Her fists clench tightly. She turns bright red. “Davin and you are committed?” The words come out dripping with venom.

  I shoot to my feet and send my chair flying backwards. “Yes. We are very committed.”

  Reyna wheels toward Davin, who is now standing between us. “You committed to this…this mutated human? What were you thinking?”

  Ooh, she is seething.

  “Reyna…” Lana reaches out and grabs Reyna’s arm. “Stop this right now and apologize. Ari has done nothing wrong.”

  Reyna smacks Lana’s hand away and starts in on me again. “You will only cause him pain. You do not deserve him.” Her head is twitching. She looks like a demented, redheaded Barbie doll. And I’ve had enough.

  I step in front of Davin and grab her arm, causing her to gasp. She looks afraid of me, which is a pretty reasonable response since I’m one heartbeat away from snapping her arm. “Put a cork in it or I’ll…”

  “Or what? Do you think you can intimidate me?” She tries to wriggle free of my grip but there’s no way I’m letting go. Instead, I squeeze harder. “Let go of me!” she shrieks.

  “Ari,” Davin says, “let her go.”

  I release her with a little shove, just for good measure. Davin is right, though. Violence will only make things worse. I take a deep breath. Facing Reyna, I ask, in an even tone, “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because you have ruined his life,” she answers, glowering at me.

  I watch with interest as Davin’s face morphs through several shades of red. He’s so good at controlling his emotions. I keep silent, waiting to see what he’ll do next.

  “Reyna, I am truly sorry that you feel this way,” Davin says. “But I think you know me well enough to understand that you cannot change my mind.”

  “But you cannot be with her, Davin. She is poison. She is evil.”

  “She is anything but evil,” Davin replies, calmly.

  “Reyna has a point,” Cylar says. “The girl is not like us. She was born on Earth, of humans. Doesn’t this concern you, Davin?”

  “She was born on Earth, of angels,” Davin replies. “But she is not your concern.”

  Cylar looks unimpressed. He doesn’t believe Davin.

  “But she does concern me. And it should concern us all. Reyna simply wants to protect you. She is your friend and she can sense you are in danger, as can I.”

  Reyna is transfixed on Cylar’s every word, nodding mindlessly, like a Stepford wife. Something is off.

  Is he influencing her in some way?

  I can almost hear Davin shift into a higher gear, as he locks eyes with Cylar.

  “The only one in danger right now is you,” Davin says in a dangerously calm tone. “I would strongly urge you to stay out of this discussion.”

  “Very well. But your emotions have blinded you…”

  Davin slams his fist down on the stone table top. A crack appears down the middle. “Did you not hear me? Did I not make myself clear?”

  Davin is about to pop. I can sense it. Cylar is seconds away from an exceptionally painful experience when Ella’s voice startles us all…

  “Wait. Something is very wrong.”

  Everyone, including Reyna, turns toward Ella, who continues, “I don’t think she can control what she’s saying.”

  “What do you mean?” Davin asks.

  “I’m not sure yet.” Ella gets up and walks around the table. “Reyna, did you mean to insult Ari?”

  Reyna blinks rapidly. “Insult…?”

  Ella places her hand on Reyna’s arm. “Do you want to hurt her?”

  Reyna looks like she’s in pain. She turns to look at Cylar, but Ella shifts to block her view of him.

  “Please, can you answer the question, Reyna?” Ella’s tone is like that of a teacher talking to a first-grader.

  Reyna’s head twitches. She looks like she’s trying to form words—but they won’t come out. She just stares straight ahead.

  Ella grasps Reyna’s hand, startling her. “I don’t,” Reyna says, in a small voice.

  “You don’t want to hurt Ari?” Ella asks.

  “No. I don’t.”

  Ella places her hands on Reyna’s shoulders. “It’s okay. You’re in control, Reyna. You don’t have to say anything you don’t mean.”

  “Reyna is only trying to help,” Cylar says. “Obviously she still cares for Davin and wants to protect him. I will counsel her on the futility of trying to help friends who don’t want to be helped.”

  “Really?” Lana asks, “When did you become her counselor?”

  “I care about Reyna very much. I want to help her get over this,” Cylar replies, trying, but failing miserably, to sound sincere.

  “That’s very thoughtful of you, Cylar,” Ella says.

  “Right. Well, we have been friends for many years,” he replies.

  “How sweet. So you are fond of her?” Ella looks at Cylar expectantly.

  “Naturally,” Cylar answers.

  Ella steers Reyna to Lana’s waiting arms and then turns to face Cylar. “You’re lying. You are influencing what she says.”

  Cylar sneers. “Are you insane? This is utterly preposterous—and quite impossible.” He gives Ella a dismissive wave, and I’m afraid Tal might rip his head off. As a matter of fact, I want to rip his head off.

  Ella is undeterred and continues her interrogation. “So, is it an implanted device?”

  “You cannot be serious, dear girl.”

  “I see.” Ella says. “Then it must be a drug, right?”

  Cylar flinches, but does not answer.

  “Interesting,” Ella says. “I have read of drugs that some counselors use when dealing with people who are under extreme duress. The patient receives one drug, and the counselor takes a second drug, which acts as a catalyst. The counselor is then able to
influence the patient’s behavior. Thalia says these drugs are used only as a last resort in extreme cases. Did you drug her?”

  Ella is conducting a flawless cross examination, and Cylar doesn’t stand a chance.

  “Of course not!” Cylar exclaims. Contempt flavors his words. “The drugs you speak of are very carefully regulated.”

  “Only counselors can acquire them?”

  “Yes,” he hisses.

  “Are you a counselor?”

  “I’ve had quite enough of this!” Cylar bellows. “Your behavior is tactless and offensive.”

  Game, set, and freaking match.

  Ella narrows her eyes and glares at him. “Excuse me? Were you saying something?”

  Cylar looks flabbergasted. He is outclassed, outmatched, and overwhelmed.

  Lana reaches out and takes Reyna’s hands in hers. A soft glow radiates from Lana’s fingers and snakes its way into Reyna’s hands. She sighs and shudders, looking like a heavy weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

  “Thank you,” Reyna says, as tears run down her cheeks. “I am so ashamed.”

  “It’s okay now, Reyna,” Lana says. “It is done.”

  What is done? Does Lana know what’s happening between Cylar and Reyna? I give Lana a questioning gaze, but she averts her eyes. Something is going on.

  Cylar glares at Reyna and lets out a growl. “Fool! You are useless to me!”

  Tal reaches out and grabs Cylar’s arm in a vise-like grip. “You will tell the truth now—or I will rip your arm off.” He looks and sounds deadly serious.

  I’ve never seen Tal angry. He’s scary.

  Cylar gasps. “There is no need for violence, Tal.”

  “There is a need for the truth,” Tal says, as he twists Cylar’s arm. Cylar grunts, and Tal twists again, harder. “Speak!”

  “Very well. I was sent to find her,” Cylar says, through clenched teeth, as he points to me.

  “By whom?” Davin asks.

  Cylar fixes Davin with a scornful expression. “An Elder,” he says.

  Ella looks at Davin and nods. “He is telling the truth.”

  “What does this Elder want with her?” Davin asks.

  This can’t be true. Dad is an Elder. He’s the head Elder. “Me? What would an Elder want with me?” I ask.