He leaned against the doorway, looking strangely gaunt. The dark circles around his eyes were gone but he was unshaven, and while it seemed as though he hadn’t slept in days, he was sporting a serious case of bed head. Under my critical eye, he straightened his posture, smoothed out his clothes and ran his hand through his hair. It was slow motion, much like a model at a photo shoot. That was the Shawn we all knew and loved. He took a step toward me and I instinctively took a step back. Shawn smiled, pleased.
I turned away.
He grabbed my upper arm, "Leaving already? But we have yet to start a conversation, Princess Gaia."
"I could have a much more pleasant conversation with myself." I twisted my arm out of his tight grip. "So I think I will be on my way."
He moved around to block me, with almost lightning quick speed. "Trust me, Princess, nothing about this is going to be … pleasant." His bitter breath forced me back toward the open doorway and I looked behind my shoulder into the bedroom. There were clothes strewn everywhere, the bed was unmade, and it had the very distinct odor of Shawn. Suspecting the worst, I tapped into the frequency of the land that was done so easily before. My waves bounced back, hitting an invisible shield.
I looked at Shawn. He smirked. "It is time you understand what I can do."
I shook my head. "Not on the schedule for today."
I called for the energy again, more desperate now. It pulsated against Shawn’s enclosing wall.
He actually laughed. "I’ve been doing this much longer than you, Princess."
He was right; the block was too stable to break through. I had to try something different. He had backed me far enough into his room that he could have shut the door behind us, but he didn’t. His focus was entirely on the wall he had put up around us.
Shawn wasn’t going to let me help myself, but perhaps I could still call for help. Casting aside any intentions I had regarding independence, I conjured an image of something that would get Micah’s attention. It couldn’t simply be of Shawn threatening me; it had to be much more devastating. I imagined being stabbed through the heart with a knife, and did my best to believe it myself. It became so real I could start to feel a dull pain in my chest. I pushed the image away gently, keeping energy and frequency out of it, trusting Micah to receive it.
I focused on the situation at hand. Shawn had said something. I frowned. "Huh?"
"I said I’m going to mark you, didn’t you hear me?"
I shook my head no and glanced down to find he had produced a black-handled knife. Perhaps disappointed his threat went unnoticed, he gave me a suspicious look. "What were you doing just now?"
I widened my eyes, trying to look innocent. "What?"
"What are you up to?" The hand clutching the knife tightened around the black handle.
"Moronsayswhat?" I resorted to a child’s antics in hopes of distracting him.
It worked, kind of. He forgot about my temporary hiatus from reality, but his face was slowly turning an ominous shade of red.
"Enough of your games, come here!" Contrary to his command, he came to me, or rather dove at me. He caught me full force in the gut, knocking the wind out of me with his shoulder. I didn’t have time to be grateful for the soft landing on his bed, trying to catch my breath. Before I knew it, he had me flipped on my stomach and pinned down, sitting on my back. I bucked uselessly. Both of my arms were trapped by his knees. In one smooth swoop, he tore my shirt in half, ripping it away. I tried one last time to gather energy, but it was no use. He wasn’t simply blocking energy from me, he was draining it away.
A sharp pain pierced my right shoulder blade. I let out a cry. It felt like molten fire touching my skin and if I hadn’t seen the knife I would have thought he was using a branding iron. The smell of burning flesh hit me and I fought back the urge to throw up. The blade made a distinct circle followed by a series of other short cuts.
"Quit being so dramatic," he scoffed. "I’m nearly halfway done. This is going to be–"
"What in the hell are you doing?" A booming voice at the door surprised us both.
Shawn jumped off of me, leaving me to scramble up the remaining shreds of my shirt to cover myself, I moved to the opposite side of the bed. Micah stood in the doorway staring us down. Both of us. As if we were partners in crime!
He turned to Shawn first. "Explain yourself."
Shawn looked down, babbling something incoherent.
Micah gave up on him after a few seconds and turned to me. "Turn around."
I obeyed, letting him see the damage Shawn inflicted.
Micah took a few steps toward Shawn. "She is not yours. I thought that was fairly obvious."
"It is not about her," Shawn replied. "It’s about you; I’m trying to help you – to prevent what happened to me from happening to you."
"Bullshit. What is this really about?"
I watched Shawn scrutinize Micah, as if he were debating divulging a secret.
"Cato might not be around much longer," Shawn finally answered.
"So?" Micah crossed his arms.
"So one of us might be taking over for him. Whether it is you or me doesn't matter, but the Seven needs to go in a different direction."
"Which direction would that be, Shawn?"
"We don't need a Gaia. I am already absorbing powers much faster than Cato. This…" Shawn held up his knife, still stained with my blood, "among other things I've discovered, will only increase the acquisition rate."
I felt blood trickling down my back from my shoulder wound and didn’t do anything to stop it. To hell with both of them; I hope it stains the carpet. I gave my shoulders a little shake to encourage the blood flow. Unfortunately, this caught their attention and both stopped arguing to give me a strange look.
"Kaitlyn." Micah looked me over, almost chastising me. "Go to the lab and wait there."
I started to the door and snapped at him, "Because waiting around for you worked out so well for me last time." I peeked out into the hallway, hesitating to leave the room in such a state.
Micah gave Shawn a look that must have meant more to Shawn than to me, because Shawn huffed and walked over to one of his drawers and pulled out a long-sleeve dark cotton shirt that buttoned down the front. He handed it to me. "Here."
"You are just too kind." I drawled, but I took the shirt. It was better than nothing.
Shawn leaned in. "We’ll resume our pleasant conversation later, Princess."
Micah took a few steps closer to us and bent down slightly to meet Shawn’s eyes. "You will have nothing more to do with her. You and I, however, are a different matter, and we will resume our conversation later; after I take care of your mess."
Oh, so I am a mess now.
Micah took me by the arm, careful not to disturb my hurt shoulder, and led me to the lab. I shot him a dirty look. Angry energy pulsed off me in waves.
Chapter 16
White Noise
Micah prepped a long table by placing a white sheet over the top and setting towels, bowls with water, and cotton balls nearby. After removing Shawn's shirt, he had me lay face down and draped my upper body with another white sheet. A few minutes later a small team came in and set even more equipment on the table; enough that could have stocked a small hospital.
"Is this necessary?" I asked Micah.
Avoiding my hard stare he retrieved a stool, placed it at the end of the table, and sat down so his eyes were level with mine. "This may hurt a bit."
I felt the sheet being pulled down to reveal the wound. "What do you mean? Don’t they have anesthetic with all this medical junk?" I turned around, partly directing my question at the team now bent over me, but they ignored me. All I was to them was an injured shoulder.
Micah took my hand in his. "Shawn used his athame to make the cuts. It is a knife that, to him, represents choice and the ability to separate things."
"So?"
"So, it is supposed to reveal what is true and kill that which is false. He made it with metals tha
t direct a magical energy, a male energy, that don’t necessarily mesh well with some Gaias. We don’t want to introduce anything else into your system that could cause a bad reaction."
"So there are inanimate objects that, what, hate me?" I looked at him, not questioning it. I was open to believing just about anything at this point.
"There is a balance to everything – for every element that works with you, something exists that works against you."
The medics cleaned my shoulder. I smelled alcohol, wincing when it hit my shoulder.
I paused, sucking in a breath through my nose, trying to ignore the sting. I looked at him. "Well, the damage is done. But, still, don’t you think this could have been prevented?"
He looked at me, pressing his lips together. "Yes, and I’m …sorry. I should have taken what you said about Shawn more seriously. It’s just that, I’ve known him most of my life and I don’t quite understand him right now. I promise I won’t let anything like this happen again."
This was a change from his usual, confident self. He looked so pathetic that it took an effort on my part not to console him.
A sudden sharp pain in my shoulder hit. I hissed. Several hands instantly moved to hold me down tight, including Micah’s. I struggled. They just held me tighter.
"The needle is in," Micah said. "The worst part is over now."
But it wasn’t. Every time the needle pierced my skin I felt the length of it being pushed in, and then the thread as it worked its way through the hole. I broke out in a sweat, fighting back waves of nausea. Micah positioned a bucket by the table as close to my mouth as he could manage.
"Thanks." I tried to smile. "You should know I don’t have the highest tolerance for pain." As if to emphasize my point, I grimaced as the needle pushed its way through yet again.
Micah stood to check the progress, then sat again. "Almost halfway finished."
"That’s what Shawn said right before you came in, guns blazing." I suddenly had a horrible revelation. "He is going to want to finish the job."
Micah’s face turned to stone. "He is not going to get the opportunity. I’ll make sure of that."
Doubt crept into my mind.
Micah lifted my chin and stared into my eyes, "I promise you, nothing like this will ever happen again."
"You and I need to talk about this, this…mind reading thing." I was losing the battle against my nausea. "Later – I need that bucket!"
Five minutes later, I was dry heaving into the bucket. Good thing Shawn stopped me before I made it to the kitchen. My shoulder was stitched up and bandaged. The medics gave strict instructions; no water on my shoulder, no exercise for a week, and change the bandages twice a day.
"How does it look?" I asked Micah. "I mean, what is it, exactly?"
He lifted the bandage gingerly and peered at my shoulder as if he hadn’t just been staring at it for half an hour. "It is a circle with a triangle inside of it."
"What does it mean?"
Micah leveled with me, "It is a symbol – we used to mark all of our Gaias with it."
Like cows, lining up for the branding. My face heated in anger.
"Several years ago, Cato outlawed the practice – said it was too inhumane."
"Ya think?"
He didn't have a chance to respond. One of the medics announced mud treatments would have to wait a few days, and that there would be a scar. The room grew silent and everyone looked down in unison.
"What’s the matter?" I asked.
No one answered right away.
Finally Micah stood up, handed me a fresh shirt and said, "No matter how bad we get wounded, there is hardly ever scarring. We can use the elements here to help us heal quickly and flawlessly. It’s just that, what Shawn used was like poison to you. It will never completely heal."
"Oh. Well, I’ll have to rid my wardrobe of all my tube tops…" I looked around hoping to lighten the mood, or at the very least my mood, but apparently a sense of humor was left out along with the anesthetic.
At least Micah smiled. After a few moments he clapped his hands twice. "All right guys, thank you for your assistance. I’ll keep an eye on it and let you know if we need anything."
After the last one had gone, he turned to me. "Are you hungry, do you need anything?"
"No," I said, "Just water." I looked at the bucket. "And a walk." The claustrophobic feeling of Shawn’s energy wall was still with me. I needed fresh air.
Micah helped me down from the table and we went outside, after stopping in the kitchen to get a bottle of water. We headed toward the gardens, slowly. Each movement sent shooting pain from my shoulder down my arm, but walking was better than trying to lie down.
Micah babbled. I’m not sure if it was for my sake or his. He commented on the schedule and how he would have to make several changes to it, given my temporary physical disability.
"Oh darn, no running," I said.
He nodded. "We’ll have to concentrate on some of the more mental activities."
That didn’t sound promising. "Like what?"
"Like, we can sit around while I try to read your mind," Micah said, laughing as I took a swing at him.
Pain shot through my shoulder. I winced. It seemed completely possible that I had already ripped out some of the stitches.
"Let me see." Micah turned me so he could study my shoulder. "You’re seeping." He produced extra gauze from his cargo pocket along with medical tape. He flipped the back of my shirt over my head.
"Hey!" I protested. How is it, with a house full of men, that I am the only one always losing my shirt?
"Hold still, no one can see us." He worked on me for a few moments, then replaced my shirt. "Good as new. Now to keep that arm still." Micah stepped back, looked me over, then took off his jacket and tied the sleeves together. He placed the loop above my good shoulder on one side and down by my waist on the other side, creating a make-shift sling.
I put my elbow in the sling. "That works, I guess." I shrugged then winced in pain again.
Micah shook his head. "You’re hopeless."
We continued walking and before I knew it, we had ended up in a part of the garden that was new to me. We sat down on a bench surrounded by blooming Cherry Blossoms. I looked up at them. An occasional gust of warm wind came through, catching white and pink petals that made several circles around us until they finally settled on the ground.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying myself, until a very distinct tickle snapped me out of my stupor. "Stop that!" I sat up quickly and grimaced at the pain that shot through my shoulder.
"So you can feel that?" Micah studied my face.
"Yes, I can." We both sat in silence until I spoke again, nearly snapping at him. "Did you find out what you wanted to know?"
"How do you know what I was doing?"
"I don’t know, I just…know."
"Well, to answer your question, there wasn’t much going on in there." He moved his foot before I could stomp on it. "But I did get the short version of what happened in Shawn’s room." I didn’t say anything. "You know, you can stop me from doing that."
"How?" I sat up a little straighter. What goes on in one’s mind is ultimately private, a person’s true sanctuary, or so I thought.
"You sent me a message earlier, a call for help. The image was somewhat exaggerated…"
"It worked," I said.
"That it did. But you could most likely do the same thing now; send out a signal specifically to me. Something that, for lack of a better term, jams the frequency. Do you want to try?"
"Okay."
"Okay, here I go."
It wasn’t too long before I felt the familiar tickle, and I began to fill my head with white noise and static. I didn’t know what else to send, and his references to electronics gave me the idea. The tickle distracted me to the point where images in my mind came and went, but I kept working at it. Once the static was as big and steady as I could manage, I sent it out, straight at Micah like an arrow.
He immediately doubled over, clutching his ears. He screamed, "Stop! Stop it!"
There was nothing I could stop; the vision was gone. "I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do!"
I stood up and was about to shout for help when he put his hand on me, "No, don’t. It’s gone now."
"Are you okay?"
"My ears are ringing, but I’m all right. It’s my fault, we should have started smaller." He righted himself, shook his head as if to rid it of the remaining bits of static, then gave me a reassuring smile. "You are a quick learner."
"Yes. Not something I’m particularly proud of at the moment." I offered him the rest of my water and he declined mumbling about saving it for whatever other disasters should come my way today.
"Come on, there is something I want to show you." He took my hand and led me further into the gardens, pushing aside branches of the trees as we went. Soon we stepped into a small clearing, an almost perfect circle in the center of thick brush, shrubs and trees. A giant boulder sat in the center, looking out of place. I studied it.
"This," Micah announced proudly, "is the center of the Chakra. A large part of the energy contained within the Chakra resides here. The rock was excavated from underneath this exact spot, about 50 feet underground. Cato believes the rock has some sort of significance; although he has never said what."
"And you?" I asked.
"Not sure, but…"
I watched him. "But what?"
"Animals seem to be attracted to the rock. They manage to chip away pieces."
I moved closer to see dozens of small gashes, scratches, and chunks missing.
"We do our best to keep them away, but critters can be persistent. I came out here once just in time to hear something scurry away. It left some of its loot behind." Micah produced something small from his pocket. He held his hand up close to my face and opened it slowly. A piece of rock, similar to the coloring of the larger boulder beside us, sat in his hand.
I took it from him, running the pad of my finger over its smooth surface. It wasn't rough like the boulder.
Micah shrugged sheepishly, "Many years of rubbing. It keeps me calm. It’s like my good luck charm."
Water Page 10
