Embrace

by Jessica Shirvington

  He supported me like I was a feather and laid me on the mattress. He kissed me softly, his mouth moving down my neck, never breaking contact. His hand hovered at my waist, playing with the bottom of my singlet, pushing it up a little then pulling it back down, trembling with want.

  My body ignited as cool heat turned to fire and ice within me. The smells of the dense forest and smoky fire were drowned out by the smell of white musk. I tasted apple, green tart tangy apple. ‘Take it off,’ I cried.

  ‘No,’ he grunted.

  He hovered over my mouth. I could feel his quick breaths on my lips.

  ‘Please.’

  He didn’t move for a moment, but then he let out a dark growl that belonged in the wilderness more than anything else he had brought with him.

  He lowered his body onto mine and pressed the length of it against me, covering me. I moved his T-shirt up around his chest and he pulled it over his head.

  His hand went back to the bottom of my singlet. This time he didn’t play with it. One minute it was there, the next it wasn’t. I didn’t know how, didn’t care.

  Then something happened that I hadn’t prepared for. It was as if releasing the pain that had consumed me created a void to be filled. My memories travelled to my birthday, when Lincoln had kissed me. With Phoenix’s body pressed against mine, I remembered the feel of Lincoln. I remembered the desperation of wanting him closer. The way we had melted together. The way I had always felt so intensely drawn to him.

  I felt myself pull Phoenix closer, tighter. He hesitated and then pushed against me. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, but I knew it wasn’t him I was desperately trying to hang onto.

  ‘I can read your emotions, Violet,’ he whispered into my ear. ‘I should stop.’ But he didn’t pull away.

  ‘Don’t stop, don’t stop,’ was all I could muster. Even as I said it I knew it was cruel, knew it must hurt him to know I was longing for Lincoln’s touch.

  I opened my eyes a little when he didn’t respond. He was looking straight into mine, waiting for me. He battled with himself, but I could see that desire was winning. I knew I had the power. I shifted a little and then arched slightly in invitation. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and wrapped it around his hand till it was tight against my neck, then he pulled me up to meet him and kissed me without restraint, recapturing my focus.

  He kept a firm hold on my hair, his hand at the base of my neck. Each time I let my mind wander to Lincoln he tightened his grip on me, pulling me back to him until all other thoughts had been subsumed under the all-consuming layer of Phoenix.

  The campfire erupted in a million sparks of light, creating a canopy above us, a fiery domed ceiling. The shadows I had seen around Phoenix earlier returned, along with the thin threads of gold that reminded me of never-ending strands of hair wrapping themselves around him…and me. It was like being spun in toffee.

  Between the images that surrounded me and the emotions that Phoenix bled into me, I could barely form coherent thoughts, yet felt a growing sense of unease. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

  I lay in his arms after. Quiet. Pushing creeping thoughts of Lincoln from my swirling mind. My Home Room teacher used to rattle off a quote at the end of school every Friday, before we all headed off to act like out-of-control teenagers over the weekend. It kept playing through my mind. ‘Remember, all passions start from love or hate. But beware – you never know whether they will end with delight or sorrow.’

  I was acutely aware I was lacking in the delight department. In my struggle to escape the constant downpour of emotions, I now felt as though I had only succeeded in sinking deeper into the chasm. I told myself that most first times aren’t all that great and that, physically, Phoenix had been beyond amazing, guiding me gently the entire time. But that nagging voice inside, the one that always points out the truth even when you’re in denial, was singing hauntingly at me – Silly, silly Violet…

  We were both silent as he stroked my hair. I pretended to be asleep for a while. So did he, I think.

  ‘I should get going,’ I said finally.

  ‘I could walk with you to the top,’ he offered.

  ‘I get the feeling it has to be a solo trip.’ I leaned over the mattress, searching for my clothes, keeping the sheets up high for cover. ‘Thanks, though.’

  Phoenix threw the sheet off himself and stood up. He was butt naked. It was dark, but my eyes had adjusted enough and I couldn’t help but look. His body was truly incredible and I felt a pang of guilt that I hadn’t given it the sole attention it deserved last night. Images flashed through my mind, glimpses of fire flaring and shadows hovering, that made me shiver.

  He collected my underwear and cargos and handed them to me. Then he passed me my singlet.

  ‘How? I thought you ripped it.’ I held it up, intact.

  ‘Imagination. I think it probably got away from us both a bit last night. I’m sorry if…’ He looked down and I felt awful. I braced myself for his leaking emotions. It was at times like these, when he was vulnerable, that I felt them most acutely. But nothing came to me, not even the slightest trace.

  I quickly threw my singlet over my head and shimmied my undies and pants on while still under the sheet. I crawled over the mattress and sat beside Phoenix, who was on the far edge. I was relieved that he was now wearing pants too. I wasn’t up to the challenge of nakedness and conversation right now.

  I put a hand on his shoulder as he had for me just a few hours ago. ‘I asked you to be there for me and you were.’ I really didn’t want to be having this conversation.

  ‘That doesn’t mean it was what you needed. I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to be your first.’ He was shaking his head regretfully and wouldn’t look at me.

  ‘That obvious, was it?’ I cringed.

  ‘No.’ He stood up and paced a couple of steps, picking up a stick and throwing it into a tree. I heard it slice into the bark, like an axe splitting wood. ‘No, I just know, Violet. I can sense it.’ He sounded angry at himself, tired of his abilities. ‘You were… I’ve never been so…consumed.’

  It was odd he’d used those words. I thought of the campfire, the way it had flared around us and become all-consuming. Had he seen it? Had he put it there? Had I? I had no idea if it had been a manifestation of his power or my own imagination working overtime.

  I stood. ‘Let’s just get through today. Then we can talk.’

  He accepted this with a nod.

  I gave Griffin a quick call and he told me Lincoln wasjust holding on. I could tell how grave the situation was by the tone in his voice. I put my phone in my pocket and almost fell into Phoenix when I turned around to look for him.

  I stepped back a little to put some space between us. ‘Sorry, I didn’t know you were there,’ I said. I looked down and saw he had my mother’s necklace dangling from his hand.

  ‘I found this on the bed; it must have fallen out of your pocket.’ His tone was icy.

  I reached to take it from him, but he swung it into his fist.

  ‘Why do you have it?’ he asked.

  ‘It was a baby necklace.’

  ‘Do you know what it’s for?’

  ‘No. Do you?’ I asked, uncomfortably.

  ‘Just an old wives’ tale. Nothing important.’ He released the amulet into my hand.

  ‘Oh,’ I said, relieved to have it back in my possession. Again, I had a nagging feeling I needed to know more about Phoenix. ‘Do you remember you once said that you’d tell me everything some day?’

  ‘Yes.’ He looked suspicious.

  ‘When we get all this sorted out, I’d like answers to some questions I have.’

  He turned from me and walked over to the mattress. ‘That’s fair,’ he said, not looking at me. He came back holding out a bottle of water and I felt like a cow – he was still looking after me.

  ‘Don’t happen to have a torch in your bag of tricks, do you?’

  He shook his head. ‘Griffin said you had to travel in t
rue light.’

  I looked at the mountain above us. I could barely see the outline. ‘Any other instructions?’

  ‘Just to get to the top. You’ll know what to do when you get there.’ He pulled me close for a brief second and kissed the top of my head. ‘Be careful. I’ll be waiting.’ His hand ran over the back of my head. It felt bruised from where he had gripped my hair. I guess it hadn’t all been gentle.

  My old friend, guilt, niggled at me while I walked away. I wished I could be what Phoenix wanted, but I knew there was a good chance I had already given away what he wanted most.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ‘As for courage and will – we cannot measure how much of each lies within us; we can only trust there will be sufficient to carry us through the trials which may lie ahead.’

  Andre Norton

  It was a relief I had my jumper, more for protection than anything else. The terrain was dense and there were no visible paths to follow. The air was thick with sappy, woodsy smells.

  Though my eyes had adjusted to the faint moonlight, at a stretch I could only see about fifteen metres in any direction. I hoped the sounds I was making, bashing through the trees and stepping on dried leaves and sticks, would deter any wildlife from investigating rather than provoke them. It would be just my luck to get eaten by some wild animal on my way to jump off a cliff.

  I realised too late that taking the most direct route up the mountain was probably not the smartest idea. I pulled my hood over my head to help guard against the thorny branches and random dead sticks that stretched out from trees, lashing me as I passed.

  I stopped only once for a drink of water. It felt surprisingly comforting to have a clear destination and task at hand. I didn’t want to keep stopping and break my momentum – it only gave me time to ponder about things I couldn’t change. Hiking turned out to be a welcome distraction.

  By the time I reached the top, my ankles, which had been exposed between the tops of my shoes and bottom of my pants, had been ripped to shreds by flying sticks and jagged rocks. The backs of my hands had suffered a similar fate. My face had escaped relatively unharmed with only a few minor scrapes on my forehead from a particularly nasty thornbush. I was grateful that even with my lack of preparation I had at least picked up a jumper with a hood.

  It had been a little more than an hour’s hike, but when I stood at the top of the slope, bent over, bracing my hands on my knees, I allowed myself a moment of conquering pride.

  Then I straightened – and saw the cliff.

  It stood tall. A giant, mocking me with its inevitability. Any sense of self-accomplishment I had allowed myself to indulge in skittered away. Mother…

  From below you wouldn’t even know the mountain’s answer to Mount Thor formed the peak. I swallowed despite my dry mouth and wondered what waited for me on the other side – or was that, at the bottom?

  Bells rang in my ears and my stomach tightened as I remembered Lincoln’s words. ‘I just wanted you to be prepared, have the upper hand.’

  No wonder rock climbing had been on his list of must dos. I thought back to my most recent attempt with Steph. I couldn’t afford to be so reckless today. No safety rope and no angels waiting to catch me. I was quickly rethinking my hasty refusal to let Phoenix escort me. I glanced at my phone screen – just over an hour till sunrise, too late to do anything about it now.

  I surveyed the cliff face as best I could, looking for the most suitable route and assessing back-up paths. A little reluctantly, I settled for working my way up the right-hand side of the escarpment. It appeared to have the best footings, as far as I could see anyway. Of course, there was a catch. The top third looked like vertical suicide. I knew it would be a tough climb but the other paths didn’t look as doable, with big crevasses cut out of the middle sections. With no buddy and no ropes, they would be impossible.

  I pulled off my jumper and stuffed my phone into my pocket. After trying a number of arrangements with the water bottle, I gave up. I drank what I could and left the bottle along with my jumper at the base of the rock.

  The first third of the climb was relatively straightforward and I kept a steady pace. But there was no avoiding that after already climbing the mountain, I was tiring quickly. I tried to take short breaks, but hanging on in mid-air soon felt like more of a hindrance than a help.

  At about the halfway point the rock face shifted in angle, becoming a more severe slope. Foot- and handholds became harder to come by and I slipped a couple of times, but managed to stay on course. At the base of the vertical rise to the top, there was a narrow landing where I could stand. I took the opportunity for a brief rest and also wriggled my phone out of my pocket to check the time. I had about twenty minutes till sunrise. My hands were so sweaty, a slippery film had formed over my fingers. I did my best to give each hand a thorough wipe on my pants while keeping balance on the tiny ledge. I was running out of time, not to mention if I fell at this point… Let’s just say I wouldn’t be up for another try in a hurry.

  I surveyed the next section carefully and picked out as many footholds and handgrips as I could to map out my path. ‘Come on, Vi. You can do this. Easy.’ I sucked in a breath of champions and I was on my way.

  I may have been able to fool my mind for a short while, but my body wasn’t having it. My arms shook, weary from overuse and supporting my entire weight – I didn’t have long before they would start to give out on me. Nausea swept through me as my muscles burned and knotted with lactic acid. My mouth was rapidly oozing saliva that tasted of thin, metallic-like blood as my system tried to flush it through.

  When my right hand finally grabbed at the top of the rock face and struggled to find a grip, I couldn’t stop myself from wildly reaching, desperately seeking an end to the physical torment. My hands worked with a jerky urgency and my fingernails bent back and snapped as I scratched at the top of the rock until I found a good hold. My foot followed nicely into a previous handgrip and I levered myself up, folding my body over the top. Once I got my knees onto the landing, I crawled frantically into a safe zone, desperate to be away from the edge.

  I barely had time to pull myself onto all fours before I threw up.

  Lying on the cool hard surface I focused on what was most important at that moment – remembering how to breathe. Though every muscle in my body screamed at me, I managed to stand and walk to the opposite edge of the cliff top. Strangely, I wasn’t even shocked when I saw the death drop that lay before me. Looking down, the canyon was as deep as the mountain had been high, and then maybe more. The leap would be certain suicide. Things weren’t looking up and it seemed I was only going down. A noise escaped my lips. I wasn’t sure if it was a laugh or a cry.

  My phone no longer had reception but the screen still lit up and reported that it was three minutes till sunrise. The sky glowed with the promise of daybreak, and birds throughout the forest below were starting their morning songs. I looked out over the surrounding bushland. It was beautiful. I waited a moment, soaking it all up before I allowed acceptance to sink in. No matter how picturesque it looked, no matter what kind of peace I could draw from it, nothing was going to change the fact that I was about to leap off the biggest mother of a cliff I had ever stood on. Nope, I was all alone and I was stuffed and…I knew it.

  With only seconds left, I tried to clear my head and stop the panic. I let go of all the inhibitions I normally forced upon myself and my thoughts drifted to Lincoln. The sound of a beating heart thrummed through my mind. Da-dum, da-dum, da-dum. I knew it was his, knew he was still alive. I closed my eyes, concentrating on the too-slow rhythm of his heart, taking a deep breath, readying myself. I may not have faith in much right now, but love or hate Lincoln, I had faith in him.

  I slowly opened my eyes. The sun speared its first bright rays of golden orange into the sky and I leapt from the cliff with the sorrowful knowledge that no matter what the outcome, at very least, part of me would die that day.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

&
nbsp; ‘For your sake, I hurry over land and water;

  For your sake, I cross the desert and split the mountain

  in two, And turn my face from

  all things, Until the time I reach the place

  Where I am alone with you. ’

  Al Hallaj

  I couldn’t breathe. I was face-down in something. Something gritty. Thoughts of being buried alive burned through my mind.

  I flexed a hand; more grit slid through my fingers. I pushed some weight onto my elbow to lift my heavy head but my arm slid out from under me, sending me back for another ground-kissing. I gasped for air and spat grit from my mouth, the sweat on my face providing the perfect glue for it to cling. I forced my eyes open and glimpsed a slice of burning light before shutting them tight against the glare.

  That voice, the one that you’re really supposed to listen to, screamed at me, Get up, get up, open your eyes. GET UP!

  I managed to get on all fours and twist into an awkward sitting position. I opened my eyes again gradually. The burning light I had seen was the reflection of the blazing sun at full height, bouncing off the sand. Sand…but no beach, just desert. No trees, no cliffs, no rocks, no dirt, just sand and…me.

  Right on cue, just when I thought I was completely alone, came the sound of someone clearing their throat. Discovering a reserve of energy I had thought long gone, I found myself on my feet within a nanosecond.

  To my right stood a man. He looked like he was on his way home from a formal beach party. Black pants and white shirt open at the collar and untucked. No shoes. I tried to make out his face while squinting against the sun. He was handsome, with honey-brown hair falling to his shoulders and what looked like a two-day growth.