Her teeth come out to tug her lip into her mouth. The confusion on her face lingers. “Are you really planning on hauling this thing everywhere we go?”
At once, embarrassment flows through me. There are a lot of weapons, but certainly there are better ways of transporting them. I shake my head, trying to get myself out of the shameful moment. “I was planning on discarding it when we cross the portal. Do you think we should do so now?”
She laughs and slaps me on the back. “Uh, yeah. This is the best place to ditch it. We could use backpacks, maybe?”
“The pistols might fit in a backpack, but the rifles most likely will not.”
The bewildered expression on her face could be construed as comical. Unfortunately, I am in no mood for humor. “Is there something else you wish to tell me?”
She crosses her arms and widens her stance. “More like ask. Can’t you just transform those into something smaller? I don’t know about you, but I’d rather have a chance to actually run if we meet up with Daegan again.”
I clearly am in need of some rest. My mind has failed to put together simple things which normally come naturally to me. “Good idea.” This is a perfect opportunity for us to test Amelia’s abilities. “Go ahead. Give it a try.”
Her mouth falls open, and her eyes fly wide. “Me?” I merely nod. At first, I think she will refuse until determination settles over her. Her hands drop to her sides while she walks over to the wheelbarrow. “Fine, but if I ruin them it’s all your fault.”
If she ruins them, we know where to find more. She stands in front of the large pile then begins to circle it. “Can I turn them into anything, or do they have to be weapons?”
I join her, and pick up a rifle. “If you are very gifted, you may be able to transform these into anything you desire. We won’t know what your talents are until you try.”
She swallows hard before she takes a rifle from the pile. Her normal confidence is gone. I could show her, but she needs to learn how to adapt to her environment without me.
After a moment of silence, she shakes her head. “Do I just think about what I want it to be?”
“Everyone is different. My methods will most likely not work for you.”
She tilts her head until she stares at me. “So you’re not even going to help?”
I shake my head. “Only if you need my assistance.” Her immediate frown makes me rush on. “I highly doubt you will.”
She stares at the weapon for a long moment before she nods. Her eyes close, and her breathing shallows. Nothing happens for a long time, but this is important. I will not rush her.
Just when I think she has no ability at all, the rifle shrinks, taking on spherical shape. She closes her fingers over the object, and opens her eyes. Her fist tightens around it until she gives a satisfied grunt. Glancing up at me with pride on her face, she holds out her hand, palm up.
A simple ball rests there. I pick it up and measure its weight. “Not bad.”
Her teeth clang together. “Seriously? I just rocked it.” She doesn’t waste any time in transforming the rest of the weapons. I’m impressed when she makes them all the same shape and weight. Not many people can overcome the long-held ideas about matter and the laws of the physical universe.
I laugh. “Well done. Is this response more to your liking?”
She shrugs before conjuring a backpack. Before I can even move to assist her, she has loaded all the balls into the bag and hoisted it over her shoulder. When I try to take the backpack, she slides out of my reach. “You lead the way. I’ve got this.”
I restrain myself from shaking my head and take her up on her offer. There’s no point in fighting about something so insignificant. My only concern is for the weapons themselves. If we were to be caught with a bag of balls we might raise some suspicion. As long as Amelia has this shape locked, we shall be fine.
I keep us to the periphery of cityscapes as we pass through world after world. If I had more time, I’d stop to check on some of my charges. It is merely not possible at this moment. My only priority is keeping Amelia safe until we find Ian. After that, it will be his job.
Seth hasn’t spoken since we left Gregory’s world. I’ve kept my head down and my energy inside. He’s not exactly forthcoming about his plans for what will happen once we reach Ian, which makes me worried that Ian is the one with the plan. Heaven forbid.
No one seems to notice us. Normally, I’d think being virtually invisible was a good thing, but at the moment it seems really odd. Seth is hardly inconspicuous. I could squeak by easily, but him? No way. Unless he’s shielding himself somehow . . . my thoughts spin out of control.
Here I am with a man I know on a deep level, but not on the surface. I’m not sure how relationships are for normal people. I was never around any, so I really have no comparison basis. Yet every time I think about Seth, there’s a big black hole in my memory. The idea I will never recover this missing part of me is—
I stop dead in my tracks. Recover that part of me?
Seth keeps going, but I don’t have the air to call him back. Musings have taken me to an impossible place, which would fit right in this strange reality. The world we’re passing through is mostly fields of one crop or another. We haven’t run into a single living soul. I hope.
Finally, Seth turns and stares at me. His eyes narrow in concern before he rushes back to my side. I swallow hard and lean closer to him. If I’m wrong, and we aren’t alone, I don’t want eavesdroppers involved in this conversation. My heart flutters around in my chest while my lungs get by on the shallow breaths I’m offering. My reaction is all in my head, anyway. This isn’t really my body, but it is me.
I take a moment to compose myself before I ask, “Is it possible most of my memories of you are gone because somebody stole more than my memories? Could someone have taken the part of me that would remember those experiences?”
The color in his face drains until his usually bronzed skin is nothing more than an anemic tan. “What would make you ask such a question?”
I keep my face close to his ear. “It just doesn’t make sense that I only have vague memories of you. It’s as if someone told me what happened instead of me remembering myself. Make sense?”
He nods. “We’ll discuss this later.”
That’s it? I give him a glare meant to melt his face off. “I want an answer now.”
All he does is nod again.
I guess it’s all the answer I should need, but somehow I want more. Too bad he takes off again. I tag along, right beside him this time. The backpack slows my pace, and it bites to admit it. Without making a big deal out of it, I remove it from my shoulders to hold out to him.
His step doesn’t even falter when he takes it. With the burden no longer mine, I keep up much more easily. I wish my mind were so lifted. All I can do is keep my anger to a slow boil. Somebody stole a part of me, and I intend to get it back.
I have my suspicions. Brock is the most likely candidate, but I haven’t even skimmed the surface of the Dreamscape. Really, it could be anyone — even someone I trust. I don’t think Seth would take my memories and then lie to me about it, but maybe Zed or Ian? Peter hasn’t even been around, but I can’t exclude him. Maybe one of Seth’s team thought my memories would help me get out of here? But I believe none of them knew about me until Seth brought me to his realm. Confusion sizzles through my mind until my insides are tight with it. Speculating won’t do me any good, but I can’t seem to get myself to stop.
Since I asked him about it, Seth has been a machine on a mission. Even the stiff cornstalks crack and bend under the weight of his boots. Normally, I’d ask him if he wanted me to try to cut a path into the landscape, but it isn’t safe to draw attention. We pass through one more world before Seth takes a detour right out of the gate. His deliberate steps and covert glances are all the tipoff I need. This is our destination.
We’re back in Nabeel’s world with the rushing waterways and gigantic towers. Last time I was here,
his world was disintegrating around me. From the shiny surfaces and smiling faces, I’d say he got his job. I can’t help it; I smile, too.
Amelia’s question has taken root in my mind. It is simple . . . and the most likely cause of her memory loss. Who could have done it? I was interested in learning more about Amelia’s father. About Brock, too, but now my curiosity has turned into a need for information perhaps only the two of them could provide.
Shame fills me. How did I not come to the same conclusion? I figured she was still transitioning and would recover her memories, but she has been here long enough to have been fully restored.
Whoever split her soul did it deliberately, and the culprit knew I was coming for her. I hadn’t told anyone but Maybell about Amelia before accomplishing the deed, which was merely because I needed Maybell to keep the portal open until I found Amelia. I refuse to believe Maybell would be part of such a thing. It has to be somebody else.
From time to time, I check to make sure Amelia is keeping up. Her concern is understandable. Once we’re back at headquarters, I shall send a team to investigate. First, we have to find Ian to determine what he has learned. My only hope is he has found information regarding Amelia’s birth father. It’s time for her to understand who the Orphics are and why they have become our enemy. If the man who raised her is now part of their religion, he must be dealt with.
I hail a boat, which pulls to the dock and waits for Amelia and me to get settled before the driver embarks. It doesn’t take long to reach our destination. The once crumbling facade of the old church has been newly restored. Even the gargoyles perched atop the roofline sparkle in the afternoon sun.
Amelia’s hand shoots out to grab my forearm. Her eyes reflect her troubled mood. Shushing her, I answer her unasked question. “They are gone. You needn’t fear.”
She shakes her head violently. “You don’t seriously expect me to go in there?”
I clasp her hand to bring the tips of her fingers to my lips, where I placed a gentle kiss. “This building is important to us. We have taken it back. In fact, no Erobos linger in this world.”
She gasps, glancing around as if in awe. “How is that possible? I thought they were everywhere.”
A full open smile takes hold of my mouth. “It’s all because of you. You chased the darkness from Nabeel’s mind. The Erobos have nowhere to take root.”
At once, excitement exudes from her. She continues to stare at the building while she shoves her fingers through her hair. With excitement glowing on her face, she glances at me. “Really?”
I nod, patting her back. “Really.”
She needs no more encouragement to leave the vessel. She rushes to the door and yanks it open, holding it impatiently until I walk through.
The last time we were here, darkness clung to every surface. Barely any light seeped in through the windows. Today, the cathedral overflows with light. The gigantic chandelier hanging from a central medallion casts dancing colors over nearly every wall. The elegant stained-glass portrays various pastoral scenes. The combination of the two gives the space a heavenly glow.
Amelia’s neck cranes until her nose is pointed directly at the ceiling. The ornamental painting is vibrant with bright reds, blues, yellows, and greens, contrasting against deep browns. She whirls to face me and says, “Wow! I can’t believe we’re in the same place.”
I nod. “It has been a complete transformation.”
Ian’s voice interrupts our conversation. “It’s about time you guys got here. I’ve been waiting forever.”
Amelia takes a step closer to me to tuck her arm around my waist. Ian frowns.
“I’m sorry, Ian.” I say, rubbing Amelia’s back. “We were delayed. But I think you will be pleased with what we have brought.” Intrigued, he walks closer as I dig into the backpack to retrieve a few of the balls. I extend my hand for him to take the cargo.
He picks each one up and studies it before he comments. The aggravation in his tone makes me smile. “What am I to do with a bunch of balls?”
Amelia shakes her head before she moves closer to him. “Shows what you know.” She plucks a ball from his palm and closes her eyes. In seconds, it is transformed into a rifle.
Ian stares at her with open admiration, which I don’t mind so much. It’s his blatant desire for Amelia which troubles me. I swiftly move between them to push the backpack into Ian’s arms. He offers me in an inquisitive brow; I reply with a frown. His face pales as he glances away.
He’s trying, but he needs to try harder. It doesn’t help his cause with Amelia being technically available. To remedy the situation, we need the key to unlock my realm. I force my voice to remain even as I point to one of the balls in his hand. “See if you can transform one. They will be of no use to you otherwise.”
Instead of doing what I ask, he flips the backpack’s flap open to peer inside. His head snaps up and our eyes connect. “You can’t mean to give all of these to me. I don’t even know how they work.”
I shake my head. “They aren’t meant for you. You need to determine who is worst off in your worlds. Distribute them as swiftly as possible. These weapons dispatch Erobos immediately.”
Ian whistles, long and low. “You’re actually telling me dreamers can use these?” His expression remains guarded. “How? Even with all the weapons Kelsby has engineered, I’ve never seen something like this.”
Amelia bends down to retrieve a few more balls from the backpack. “There are more than just rifles. Gregory gave us an assortment of weapons. You’re going to have to figure out which will work best for your people.”
Ian turns his chin back in clear defiance. “Since when do I answer to you?”
She gives him a disappointed stare. “I was giving you information, not asking you to answer to me. You know, if you’re going to insist on being a jackass, this is going to be a long day.”
I laugh, and Ian soon follows. I head for a lounge off to the right. With such welcoming furniture available, there’s no reason to waste our energies standing. Amelia joins me, leaving Ian to pick up the backpack. It doesn’t take him long to find a comfortable position on the sofa. I’ve chosen an armchair for a reason. Being too close to Amelia scatters my brain cells.
Wasting no more time, I turn my attention to Ian. “Report.”
He rolls his eyes. “I have some news, but it’s not what we wanted. Brock has been busy trying to gain access to Amelia’s world. With the safeguards now in place, he has failed.”
At least something is going as planned. “Good. And her father?”
Ian’s shoulders slump, and he shrugs. “It’s as if the man never existed, Seth. The only evidence I’ve found of a father figure in Amelia’s life is now the leader of the Orphics.”
Amelia’s eyes widen in alarm. “He’s their leader? Wait. Why does it sound like you’re talking about two different people?”
I should have given Amelia a little more information, but I didn’t want to upset her any more than she already was. In this moment, I do not want Ian to be the one to answer her. “We have reason to believe the man who raised you is not your biological father.”
She slouches in the chair as she stares at me, unbelieving. “So you’re saying not only was my mom a drug addict, she was a cheater, too?” Her mouth pinches together. “She may have been messed up, but she wasn’t like that. As stupid as it is, she loved him. There’s just no way she would do such a thing.”
I kneel in front of her and press myself closer. “We are not judging your mother’s moral character, Amelia. We are only making observations based on information we have about the man you knew as your dad. Do you remember him from your childhood very well? Other than when he dropped you from the window, do any specific memories standout?” Her gaze bounces around the room, but she refuses to look at me; she also refuses to acknowledge my question. “Please. It could be important.”
She pulls her knees to her chest until she’s crouched in a ball with her fists placed over her eyes
. Her voice, so shallow and filled with fear, rends my heart. “I don’t want to go back there. Nothing but pain is in those memories.”
Ian speaks up. The compassion in his tone is not usual for him. “I’ve seen the man, Amelia. I took the form of one of his recruits. I know firsthand what kind of monster he is, and having him for a father must’ve been unbearable. As I understand it, you assumed he was dead. He is not. Far from it, really. Orphics have been around for many, many years. Their whole goal is to resurrect Eros. Not only is the man alive, he runs the organization whose sole purpose is to bring to pass the destruction of your planet.”
My mind refuses to process what Ian just told me. The man I grew up with is evil. I mean, I always knew he was messed up. Still, it’s a pretty far stretch from messed up to deranged. I don’t want to do it, but I’m going to have to search my memories. I glance from Ian to Seth and say, “I’ve suppressed so much of my childhood I’m not sure I can remember anything, let alone something important.”
Seth pulls me over to the sofa Ian vacated and sits beside me. “Start small. Think about the places you lived. What were they like?”
Remembering might be easier if I were anchored in my body, but there’s no way I’m going to suggest Seth take me back to his realm. What I’ve got is what they will get. I take my time to let my mind wander. Bits and pieces of memories flash. When I’ve got an answer for him, I make myself respond. “Most of the time, we were in really small apartments. I remember lots of yelling, lots of things being broken. I used to find a safe place, a corner where I could hide. Sometimes I had to leave the house. There was one time, though, I might just be dreaming this, but I think we lived in a really big house where it was warm and sunny. We weren’t there for very long.”
Seth straightens, and Ian pulls a chair closer. Neither of them interrupt me, which forces me to delve deeper. “I think it was white. There were these big — no, huge — columns in the back yard I raced around. The only reason I remember the place at all is because we were there right before my mom died. She and my dad argued a lot more than normal, so my secret place became the garden. I figured: why be close to the madness if I didn’t have to? I’m trying to keep emotions out of my memories, but the tears come anyway. I close my eyes, so I don’t have to see the compassion on Seth’s face . . . or Ian’s frown. “I played with a boy for a little while. He pulled my hair and stole my doll. I found her with her head ripped off down by a pond. The body was on the shore, but the head floated away in the water. I hadn’t been taught how to swim, so I watched it fill up with water until it finally sank. The boy rushed up to me, laughing, saying how stupid it was for me to play with dolls.” A wan smile forms on my mouth. “That was the first time I ever punched a guy.”
Tainted (Netherworld Book II) Page 22
