Devour: Book Three of the Zoya Chronicles

by Kate Sander

  "Contrived." Carter said. "You're right, it does seem contrived, doesn't it?"

  "Yeah. Anyways, my mother always says that there are no coincidences," Isaac said. "That someone up there was watching out for us. You seen Charlie lately? I'd like to thank her."

  Carter decided to change the subject. "Does your mother know you’re here?"

  "No, she thinks I'm with my friends," Isaac shrugged. "The therapist told her that I need more space, that she can't coddle me anymore. So she finally let me go."

  "You need to call her and tell her," Carter said sternly, holding out his phone.

  "No," Isaac said, shaking his head. "No way. I thought you'd be cool."

  "Isaac, you're becoming a man. Part of becoming a man is putting other people’s needs before your own. You were taken, and it broke your parents. The only reason I got involved was because your father begged me to help. I'm assuming you never want them to feel that way again?"

  "No, you're right," he muttered, "I don't. But they are going to mad."

  "My guess is relieved. Call them," Carter said.

  Isaac grabbed the phone.

  "You can go in the kitchen, have some privacy."

  Isaac nodded then headed into the next room.

  Black Eyes appeared on the couch. "Heavy shit," she muttered.

  Being careful to keep his voice down, and keeping track of the muttering conversation his son was having in the next room, Carter said, "Don't start. I thought I'd finally gotten rid of you."

  "Not a hallucination," Black Eyes shrugged.

  Isaac stopped talking and she disappeared in a snap.

  "They are on their way," Isaac said, sighing deeply. "You were right, they were relieved I was with you."

  "Good for you. Do you feel better?"

  "Yeah," Isaac said. "Yeah I do."

  "Now, where did you get the gun, Isaac?"

  The kid sighed and looked around. "Nice pad you got. Just you here?"

  "Answer the question," Carter said steadily.

  Isaac sighed. "It's a fake. An airsoft gun. I couldn't get a real one in time."

  "You must go to a pretty nice school?"

  "Private," he sighed. "Nothing but the best for my dad's son."

  "I'm going to keep the gun," Carter said. "You're a young black man. I know it's a bit different here in Canada. We're certainly not as bad as the States, but you're going to have some terrible prejudices against you in your life. I'd hate for some trigger happy cop to shoot you because you had an airsoft."

  Isaac nodded, wide eyed.

  "Good."

  "I thought you were a cop?"

  "No," Carter said. "I work for the military. Not a cop. Don't get me wrong, most cops are great. But some can be real assholes."

  The buzzer rang and Carter tapped the button on his watch to let his company in.

  "Your parents are here," Carter said.

  "Yeah."

  "Isaac... Charlie died. She knew what she was doing, and she died saving someone she loved. But she died."

  Isaac stayed dry eyed, but Carter could tell the information hit him hard. "Alright," he said.

  "She's buried in the military cemetery. I can take you there sometime."

  A knock at the door. Isaac rose and answered it.

  "I'd like that," Isaac said.

  "You okay?" Shelly asked, worry all over her face.

  "Yes, mom. I came here. Carter didn't invite me."

  "Okay. I'm just so happy you're okay." she breathed, pulling him into a hug. "Your dad is downstairs in the car. I have some stuff to clear up here. I'll be down in a minute."

  Isaac shot her a smile and headed down the stairs. "Oh! Carter," he called.

  "Yeah, bud?"

  "I have a basketball game next Wednesday. Three thirty. You should come watch."

  Carter glanced at Shelly, who nodded ever so slightly.

  "Yeah, bud. Wouldn't miss it."

  "Cool!" Isaac said. He turned and disappeared down the stairs.

  "So..." Shelly said tersely.

  "I know," Carter said. "I'm sorry. I found him waiting up here, wanting to talk."

  "I didn't handle any of this right. I thought that I was over you walking out, but then to see you, and have you save him. It brought some shit up."

  "I hear that," Carter mumbled.

  Shelly sighed, "Honestly, the more positive people in his life, especially positive men, the better. If you want to be involved, and he wants you to be, then I don't see why it's a problem."

  "And Chris?"

  "It was Chris' idea," Shelly shrugged. "I never wanted to see you again."

  "He's a better man than I am."

  Shelly smiled, "You're right. He is."

  Carter returned the smile.

  "Goodnight, Shelly," Carter said. "I will see you next week."

  She nodded and went down the stairs.

  Carter returned into his living room and flopped on the couch, slamming his pillow over his eyes.

  "That went well," Black Eyes muttered in his ear.

  "Go away."

  "Can't do that," Black Eyes chirped. "You're stuck with me until Tory dies, I manage to die again, or I decide to go back to her. None of those options are going to happen anytime soon."

  Groaning, Carter rubbed his face. "Can you be quiet then for like 8 hours?"

  "Sounds boring."

  "Ugh," Carter said. He pulled the pillow off his face and stared at the annoying woman in his favourite chair. Fiddling with his watch, he turned on the TV in the far corner of his living room. "There. TV. Now you don't have to be bored."

  "What's TV?" Black Eyes asked, mesmerized by the light in the corner.

  "It’s got entertainment on it, like a play." An idea popped into his head, and he found what he was looking for on the memory drive.

  "So, like what thespians do?"

  "Sure. I want to assure you it's not real," he said, pressing play. "There. All three extended versions of The Lord of the Rings, set to play back to back. Have at it."

  As the elfish voice filled the air in his apartment and completely enthralled his hallucination, Carter closed his eyes and escaped to a dreamless sleep.

  12

  Tory

  Tory's footsteps echoed in the empty halls, mocking her loneliness. The elation of being found by the monks had quickly reverted to the soul crushing loneliness to which she was accustomed.

  "It's only been a few days," she muttered to no one. "Maybe someone will come and talk to you soon."

  The monastery was vast, built of polished stone into the mountainside. She would never have found it without a guide, it so matched with the surrounding rock faces. But once through the doors, it opened onto a plateau, with plenty of sunshine and windows. It was warm, with vents to the earth's core making an almost tropical environment. Plants were growing in the windows and it created a spring like mood to the desolate and cold winter mountain top.

  Tory was still exhausted from her trip. Missing a pinky finger but otherwise unscathed, she’d slept for a full day. Or two. She wasn’t sure how long. They'd allowed her to sleep and delivered hot broth to her door at regular intervals. Her stomach was unable to process any real food from the years of starvation. The broth, though almost clear, still made her stomach heave when she'd first tasted it.

  "Tastes better than seal meat."

  They weren't locking her in her room, but no one came to fetch her or offer her anything. She'd waited up this morning, trying to strike up a conversation with the monk who had dropped off her broth, but he'd sneaked it to her door while she went to the washroom.

  She'd wandered up and down the halls, taking any staircase she felt like. The Remiel always went with her and she tossed it in the air and caught it while she walked.

  "It's useless, you know that, right?" She said. "You dreamed that whole business with Roald and Malin. Hell, those two people probably don't even exist."

  "Then how did you get the Remiel?" Her brain maggot asked. />
  "Dad gave it to me," she shrugged. She thought of the Remiel and continued to wander, not thinking about where she was going.

  "You know that's not true," the maggot answered. "The Shaman gave it to you in your head, then it turned up in your hands."

  "Shit like that doesn't happen," Tory snapped. "Magic isn't real. And it's not like I'm a Zoya, I can't just do shit."

  "But you are a Zoya," a monk said from a doorway beside her.

  Tory jumped so high she tossed the Remiel to the monk. The monk smiled and caught it with ease before it hit the ground.

  "My name is Monk Oh," he said, holding her precious ruby out to her. "I am the one who found you in the mountains."

  "I remember," Tory said. Her mouth was suddenly dry. She snatched the ruby out of his hand, and stared the monk down. He was younger than he had looked in the mountains. Bald head, dark copper skin that contrasted with bright green eyes. He looked no older than thirty-five in this light, which surprised her as he'd looked so old in the mountains.

  "I'm sorry no one came to get you. It is our custom to allow guests to dictate when they are ready to come and speak."

  "How long does that take?"

  "Sometimes days, like yourself. Others, like me, stayed silent for years before I made the journey from my room, all those years ago when a monk found me. This view has always held my attention." He held the door open for her. "Would you like some answers?"

  Tory nodded and followed him through the door. It led to a stone staircase, with only one direction: up.

  Oh was bounding up the steps, taking them two at a time. Still weak from her years of isolation, Tory struggled to keep up with the lean monk.

  Breathing hard, she followed him up the staircase. She was so far behind him, she could only hear his footsteps on the stairs above her. But she tried, her frail body frustrating her. Only a few years ago she would have outpaced him easily, but as weak as she was now, she could barely keep up.

  The run felt like hours, when really it was only minutes. The stairs led to a wooden door. There was nowhere else to go. Puffing, barely able to breathe, she shouldered herself through the door.

  The view made her breath catch. They were on the very top of the mountain, in an enclosed, circular room. Glass windows showed a beautiful mountain landscape. Snow and ice gradually turning to a lush, green forest below. They could see for hundreds of miles. The mountain was situated at the end of the range, and the lush forest was covered with a beautiful light fog.

  In the center of the room was a large pool carved into the mountain top. Monk Oh was sitting on the edge with his feet dangling in the pool. He looked up at her and smiled when she entered.

  "It is quite the hike to get up here. The water is quite warm. If you decided to become a monk here it'd be your job to fill the pool with warm water every day. Takes years to master the stairs, but it creates discipline."

  Tory was trying to catch her breath, and had to resort to resting her hands on her knees. You'd think with all the time outside and walking she'd be better at this.

  "Now," Monk Oh said. "What do you know about the Remiel?"

  "Nothing," Tory said through deep breaths. "My old town's Shaman gave it to me in a dream. I had another dream where two Zoya were attacking me. The Remiel got me out of there. But I doubt it was anything but a vision. I'm pretty sure my father just sneaked it into my pocket when I was passed out..."

  "You know that's not true," Monk Oh said. "We don't have time for you to ramble, or to lie to yourself. Your Shaman gave it to you. It was not a dream, as you said. He managed to cross the plain from the spirit world to this world to give it to you. No easy task."

  "How do you know that?"

  "There are more powers to Zoya than just speed and strength. Many Zoya have powers of the mind. Mine is to cross planes. I have talked to your Shaman in the spirit world, as well as your father. They are the ones who told me you'd be coming."

  "You're... you're a Zoya?" Tory said. Even after being told she was the daughter of a Zoya, the familiar fear and disgust rose in her chest at the word.

  "Your fear is deeply engrained," he said. "Your best friend was a Zoya, no?"

  "Senka? Yeah, yeah she was. But she was different, she wasn't crazy."

  "Ah, so all Zoya are crazy?"

  "I don't think you start that way," Tory said. "But I think you end up that way. There's a reason why normal people fear them. They have power. Power brings crazy."

  "Actually quite an astute observation," Monk Oh said. "I can assure you I'm not crazy. You, however, have been talking to that ghost Black Eyes for more than three years. Talking to a ghost would be defined as crazy, no?"

  "Got me there," Tory said. She went and sat down beside the monk, hanging her blistered feet into the warm water.

  "So, ask me your burning question," he said.

  "What is the Remiel?"

  "Ah. I cannot show you the beginning of the Remiel. But I can show you its destruction. We must start at the end to understand the beginning."

  "It's not destroyed," Tory said.

  "Ah, but it is," Monk Oh said. "The Remiel used to be much larger. It was destroyed. That is the largest piece, yes, but there are shattered remnants scattered throughout the world. All bringing the soul of Cass to their wearer. Even if it was just a tiny piece."

  "Who is Cass? Black Eyes said I was Cass reborn."

  The monk withdrew a small flask out of his inner robes. "Drink this," he said, "and watch the end of Cass and the Remiel. An end you're doomed to repeat."

  "Lovely," Tory said. "But I've learned my lesson about taking drinks from men I don't know. Didn't end well for me the last time."

  "You want to use the Remiel like you did in your dream, no?"

  Tory nodded.

  "This is ayahuasca. This herb will let you access the part of your brain that you need in order to use the Remiel to its potential. You only need to drink it once. You will venture into a dark place and see the past. But we will take care of you throughout this. After you come through, you will be able to unlock the power of the Remiel."

  Tory sighed, took the flask and drank deeply, bitter herb running down her throat.

  "I guess I just proved myself right," Tory said, blinking heavily. "Even the promise of power makes you do crazy things."

  She faded into the vision.

  Her feet pounded up the rocky outcrop. The thunder rumbled overhead and mixed with the sound of the ocean, made her head ring causing confusion in the dark. Feet slipping on the wet rock, she went down on her stomach hard, losing her breath.

  "Keep going," she muttered to herself. The yells of the men of the village reached her and spurred her to her feet. The sun was setting and the pounding rain was making it hard to see. She needed to make the crest of the cliff. Only then could she lose the villagers in the forest.

  Dogs barked and howled and Cass scrambled up the hill. The world erupted into a blinding white light, illuminating for an instant the steep trail in front of her. Another crash of thunder overhead. Cass shivered, the pounding rain chilling her to her core.

  The mantra repeated through her head, making her move faster. "Get to the top, then you'll be safe. Get to the top, then you'll be safe..."

  She crested the hill and the cliff loomed in front of her, an eighty foot drop into the crashing, churning sea. To her right was the safety of the forest.

  A blinding flash of light.

  A huge, lumbering outline of a man was in front of her.

  Elated, Cass wiped her eyes, trying to see her love more clearly.

  "Jolan!" she called ecstatically. "Jolan, you came!"

  He covered the distance in two large strides and wrapped her in a bear hug, spinning her around in a circle. "Of course I came, my love."

  "We need to go," Cass said hurriedly. "The Remiel, it's burning. They are coming for me. They've named me Zoya, or outsider. They think I caused the famine!"

  "Darling I know," Jolan said firmly. "I know. I
tried to put them right but they wouldn't listen."

  Cass grabbed his hand to lead him to the forest. Jolan held firm, grabbing her wrist. A dog howled. Closer this time.

  "They're coming," Cass said. "Jolan we have to hurry."

  "Do you have it?" Jolan asked. "That stone you're always looking into. Do you have it?"

  "Of course I have it," Cass said. She tried to turn away from her lover but he held her wrist. "Jolan, let go. We need to get to the forest."

  "Give it to me," Jolan said. Thunder crashed.

  "What? No. You couldn't control it anyway. Jolan, we don't have time for this. Let me go."

  He cocked his head to the side and twisted her arm, hard.

  "GIVE ME THE STONE!"

  "No!" Cass said in pain. "Jolan, this isn't you. Let go! You can't use it even if you tried."

  "Oh, I could use it," Jolan said. "I've watched you, every night, use it to see the future. You've predicted things, down to the minute. You've won wars with that thing. Of course you caused the famine. You're the most powerful being in the world. But it's all because of that stone. GIVE IT TO ME!"

  Cass worked the Remiel from her pocket. Relief flooded her heart when she was able to grab it with her free hand.

  "NO!" She yelled and held it up in front of her.

  Energy exploded out of the stone in a blinding red light, sending them both flying away from each other. Cass landed hard in the dirt, closer to the cliff. The wind knocked out of her, the ruby the size of her fist left her hand. Her head swam and rain poured on her face. Lightning struck the forest close to them, causing her eyes to blur. She covered her head and rolled on to her side in the fetal position.

  Thunder clapped again.

  She felt Jolan's hand grab her wrist and start to drag her.

  "No!" she coughed weakly, clawing at Jolan's hand. "Jolan, please."

  "Give it to me," he said, grunting with the effort of pulling her through the mud.

  Cass clawed at the ground, trying to slow him down. "I don't have it. I dropped it."

  "Then you will die anyway."

  Jolan reached the edge of the cliff. Cass could hear the ocean slam against the rocks below. She dug in harder and her hand came across a smooth stone in the mud.