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Fallen Angels (Dystopian Child Prodigy SciFi) (The Unmaker Series Book 2)

Page 53

by Casey Herzog


  Julian was giving me his opinion; if he only knew it was exactly how I felt, but was afraid to say.

  “I do feel the voice trying to usurp some control, but I think he only wants to talk to you to address your concerns. I could easily allow him to do so, but I won’t do it if you both think it’s a bad idea.”

  This wasn’t my decision to make, but it felt wrong somehow not to have a say.

  They talked amongst themselves underneath their breath so there was no way I could hear what they were saying about me. No doubt they had their own ideas, but they were going to have to trust I knew what I was doing, regardless that they thought I had acted recklessly.

  “We’ve given this some considerable thought, and we’ve come to a decision.” I was waiting with bated breath, not sure how they were going to land on this issue, hoping they would understand the best thing for everybody was to allow the voice a way to convey his thoughts. “We decided against our better judgment that we’re going to allow you to give the voice its freedom, but on a provisional basis.”

  I wasn’t sure what they meant, but I had this feeling the voice was not going to be very receptive to anything negative. I only had to breathe deeply to put myself into a self-induced trance, then, the voice could slip through to the other side to use my body as a conduit. I could hear everything going on, but there was no way for me to contribute.

  “I see you feel what Gillian did was the wrong thing, but I can’t thank her enough for being courageous enough to take a chance. I do feel the evil inside her, and by being here, I can help her to fight the influence. We are together as one; what one feels, the other feels as well. We’re joined until such time I find a suitable host to take my consciousness.”

  The voice was making sense, but I had to wonder if my father had the same sentiment.

  “It’s weird hearing my daughter’s voice and knowing it’s not her. I understand you feel like you have been given a raw deal, but I’m not sure going about it this way is the right thing. How do you propose to relinquish your hold on my daughter without hurting her in the process?”

  My father had a good question, and it was just a matter of hearing what the voice to give them some comfort.

  “I know you’re concerned, and you have every right to be, but this can be a benefit to both myself and Gillian. As I’ve said before, I feel the evil, and it has no power over me. Wasn’t that one of your main concerns going forward? Getting away from my prison gives me a sense of self I’ve been lacking for a long time. I feel whole, like a missing piece has been replaced in a different way.”

  I felt good for giving him life, but slightly drained from the experience.

  “You still haven’t mentioned how you’re going to leave, my friend, and I think you’re purposely saying nothing,” Julian said, following my father’s lead and not exactly giving the voice the benefit of the doubt.

  “I would gladly give her body back to her unconditionally, but I don’t know if there’s really a way to do that. The evil could accomplish it, but giving it any room to maneuver would only bring about the harsh reality of an Armageddon. I’m not just saying this to protect myself, but in some small part, you have to realize I’m going to do everything I can to survive. I don’t think you would do anything differently. You can’t say you would and make me believe it.”

  I wanted to say something, but the interrogation of the voice had only begun.

  “We will find a way to get you out of my daughter, and when we do, I’m not going to allow you to hold on. I’m doing this in the name of love. Drawing her from the darkness is my only responsibility as a father. You made reference to her mother being evil personified. What makes you think I’m going to believe you over her mother?”

  My father was not exactly being kind, but I wasn’t expecting anything different because of the way he was.

  “I don’t feel anything from her except for quiet peace. Something has definitely changed. The only thing I can say is to take heed and don’t trust everything she says. I told Gillian about a way to find out if she is who she says she is. You need to uncover a flaw in her genetic makeup; someone uniquely intimate with her should know the difference when they see it,” the voice said, drawing back inside and allowing me to take my rightful place as the main host.

  It felt strange to have somebody inside me. Unlike the evil, this was more of an entity than a feeling. I wasn’t sure how William was going to feel about there being three in a crowd. I wasn’t even sure how to bring it up. I never thought about it when I made the decision to go through with it. I didn’t have much time, but so far the voice had been remarkably calm, and not the least bit interested in gaining control over me for any length of time.

  I could tell from his emotions he was relieved and quite grateful for the chance to start all over again. There had to be a way, and maybe the magic unleashed on the community might be the answer we were looking for.

  “I hope you have the answers you want to hear, because he’s not coming out anytime soon. You can speak to him through me, but this whole thing has been quite the ordeal for the both of us.”

  My father had the flower, and he was holding it hostage, as if letting me see it would only cause more harm than good. I could give 1000 reasons why I wanted to see it, and none of them would remotely make any sense.

  “I’m not going to give up on you, daughter and I’m not going to give up on your mother.”

  I heard a groan, and we all looked down to see my mother opening up her eyes for the first time since Julian had attacked her. She was holding her head and closing her eyes with a grimace on her face, obviously suffering a throbbing headache.

  “I would ask what hit me, but I think the better question would be who hit me. Strangely, I do feel better than I have in a long time, and I can’t quite explain any of it,” she said, standing up and looking around with a look that only conveyed her complete unwillingness to believe she was no longer a victim.

  “You can thank your daughter for getting us all out of there alive. I don’t think we could’ve done it without her. There has been some concern about your mental health . Some even think you’re not exactly yourself.”

  My father was the master of the understatement; his words made my mother go into silent deep contemplation for several minutes.

  “I was knocked out cold, and I’m still trying to figure out what exactly is happening. I can see I’m free, but I have no idea how it is even possible after all this time. I promised to keep this a secret, but I did make some mistakes which I find myself regretting,” She said, sounding like my mother and not the cold and unfeeling thing which had greeted us on the mountain.

  “You could be telling us what we want to hear, but there’s really no good answer without investigating further.”

  My father had decided to be a little bit more open minded to the possibility my mother was not exactly herself.

  “I don’t know what you want me to say. There is no excuse for my behavior when it comes to the treatment of the shrouds. I lost sight of what was important and I became something horrible, which I hope is finally behind me. If they hadn’t attacked me, I wouldn’t have fought for my survival and lost sight of the importance of being true to oneself,” my mother said, touching my hand and looking into my eyes with a compassion and love I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  “I don’t know about the two of them, but I believe you and I want you to know nobody is ever going to put their hands on you without going through me first. I do have to warn you though, the voice inside me isn’t exactly one of your biggest fans.”

  I could feel him wanting to wrap his hands around her throat, but this was not the same woman who had treated him with disrespect.

  “I’m happy to hear that. Gillian, you have no idea what your belief in me means to me. The voice has every reason to doubt me. I never gave them any chance. I was afraid of what they would do to me, and I acted without thinking. It’s not an excuse, but it is an explanation, which I can
only hope is enough,” she said, as we made our way to the path my father had used to get here. It was well trampled, and following it back was child’s play.

  “The voice wants to know what we’re going to do to help the others, but I’m not sure what I can say to him. We still don’t know everything about the voice; he has yet to tell me his name, which I’m sure will shed some light on his identification,” I said, letting the voice understand his freedom came with a few hurdles to jump over.

  “We need to take this one day at a time, and make no rash decisions without fully understanding the ramifications. I may not be the most trustworthy, but the influence of the mountain and the shrouds are behind me. I became something feral, animalistic with only survival on my mind, which turned into something ugly inside me.”

  My mother sounded like she was back, but there was no way to truly know what was going on inside her head.

  “There will come a time when the voice will want to return the favor to those waiting for the same hand to reach out to them. I feel guilty for not allowing all of them the same rights and freedoms like everybody else,” I said, knowing this was my cross to bear and thinking maybe I could find a way to bring those voices out of the darkness and into the light.

  I didn’t know what tomorrow was going to reveal, but there was still one thing remaining on my mind.

  “We went to retrieve something for Damien, and came back with something more than we could even bargain for. I want to take your mother for a magic evaluation. You should take this to Damien with the other ingredients Julian has procured for us.”

  It felt like the nightmare was almost over, but there were still some questions nobody wanted to ask.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “I thought this was the answer to our prayers, and now I’m worried I have made things worse.” The flower we secured was not doing what it was supposed to.

  “I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve done everything I can. I followed the recipe to the letter, but maybe it’s going to take some more time for Damien to come around. It could be that the flower was tainted, but I don’t even want to think about that unless we have to. The alternative is not one that I want to voice and you don’t want to hear anything negative about his prognosis,” Professor Bethesda said, as he stood there with his arms crossed looking like he had aged a few years, the deep lines under his eyes even more pronounced.

  “I wish there was something I could do.” My friendship with Damien meant the world to me, and I couldn’t even imagine living my life without him. I would certainly move on with my life, but it would be with a heavy heart and a feeling of disappointment for having let him down.

  “I’ve been in touch with the very few who have used this recipe in the past, and they have been gracious enough to make the journey here from outside of the community. I had to send a messenger, and I’m sure they were hesitant, but they know how important this is. I don’t know the cost of doing business with them, but I’m sure there will be a price to pay.”

  I didn’t care about anything other than the well being of Damien. He was too strong to let this get the best of him, and I was responsible for bringing him this misfortune.

  “They can ask for anything, and I will gladly give it.” I had no interest in playing games, and whatever they wanted was nothing compared to the devastation I would feel from losing him. My responsibility was clear, and to do nothing would mean Damien was not important to me.

  “I would be very careful about saying anything like that around them; they may take you seriously. Some of them are not exactly happy about coming back, and the messenger was quite clear about their reluctance. I’ve gone back over the notes, and nothing I have done was left to chance. It could be the remedy needs to be adjusted to Damien’s physiology. As you are well aware, Damien is not like everyone else; there’s something special about him,” Professor Bethesda said, as we both stood in the doorway looking at the frail figure of Damien barely clinging to life.

  “I don’t know how much longer he has left; he’s literally hanging by a thread. There’s only so much fight in him, and I fear for his health. I don’t want anything to happen to him, but I don’t want him to feel any lasting effects from being in this trancelike state. Are you certain waiting is the answer?” I was trying to be strong for my friend, but this weakness was causing the evil to think it could slip through the cracks.

  “I know this is taking a lot out of you, but I’m afraid this is the only thing we have left. They can either help, or they can leave him this way, but I don’t think you’re going to allow something like that to happen. Be very careful because those from outside of the community can be quite unpredictable. They walked away for a reason; some were actually cast out as a form of punishment.”

  I didn’t want this to be his final breath, and I had to give credit to Professor Bethesda for coming up with an alternative solution to the problem.

  “We can debate this, but I think our strength should be saved for Damien. He’s going to need all he can get, and I’m willing to supply him with a necessary dose of magic. I’m not even sure a transfusion of the amount he needs is possible, but maybe there is a way,” I said, hoping the idea of the magic transfusion would be what would take him over the top.

  “I’ve heard of it being used in the past, but it comes with the risk of taking too much. It’s very rare and dangerous. It’s the reason why I never mentioned it. However, if this could give him that last fighting chance, then maybe the outsiders will be able to do the rest.” I could see the wheels turning in his head; he was obviously doing the intricate and intense calculations required not to make any mistakes.

  “My father and mother might be able to help as they were instrumental in making magic relevant again.” I had no problem reaching out to my parents, even though they were estranged and had no interest in spending any intimate time together. Actually, that was a one-sided emotion; my father would have gladly given her a second chance.

  “I don’t want to bother them with this unless absolutely necessary. The library gave us what we needed, and you found the flower. I still can’t believe you went on a journey with your father where you found your mother and allowed a strange being to inhabit your body. I don’t know what it’s going to cause, but I suppose that is a problem for another day.”

  I could reach out and talk to my parents without Professor Bethesda’s knowledge. I didn’t care about anybody’s opinion, and I would walk through hell to help Damien to open up his eyes.

  “I understand the sentiment, but my father might have knowledge we can use. I don’t want to leave anything to chance. I know why you don’t want to involve him; it’s as plain as the nose on your face. You don’t want to show any weakness since my father can be quite judgmental when he wants to be. This is something you want to do alone, and calling upon the outsiders is a brave and reckless choice.” I felt the energy in the air draining and I wasn’t sure how much time was left for Damian to come back to us.

  “I know it’s selfish, but I can’t always run to your father for answers. I don’t mind if you consult him, but leave his care up to the others and me. It’s asking a lot, but I don’t like the idea of having too many cooks in the kitchen. Having differing opinions is healthy, but it can become counterproductive for the patient,” Professor Bethesda said, as we both turned and saw a disheveled old man walking towards us with a cane to hold him up.

  He grabbed us both, and for someone so small and frail looking, he certainly did have some amazing upper body strength. Pulling us down within earshot, he was prepared to say something. I had a feeling it was important enough for us to understand him clearly.

  “I know what you’re thinking. A transfusion like this should not be taken lightly, but I see the options on the table are limited. I’m going to need some time to prepare. As far as I can tell, you have done nothing wrong, but you haven’t considered all the variables. I will make my determination about the flower from what is left over,” the
old man said, his weathered hands looking like the bony claw of death.

  There wasn’t much left of the flower, and the concoction they had made Damien drink was meant to incorporate the entire essence of the flower. The only thing remaining was the stem and one lone petal. The old man picked it up and looked at it from every angle. He seemed deep in thought.

  “I would seriously consider giving him the transfusion as soon as possible. If he is to survive he’s going to need all the help he can get. Fortunately, the flower doesn’t seem to be the problem. I will need a quiet place to work. I don’t care if you think it’s important; nobody is to disturb me for however long it takes me to decipher the problem is and uncover a solution.” This old man was clearly stubborn and stuck in his ways.

  “I don’t think you know what you’re saying. A transfusion means using a spell. If I don’t say the incantation the right way, the consequences will be catastrophic for both Damien and Gillian,” Professor Bethesda said, making me worried, but still willing to go through the procedure for my friend. I had come this far, and there was no way I was going to back down until he was standing by my side, healthy and ready to take on whatever fight came his way.

  “You don’t have much time to decide; his aura is showing signs of failing. His core is strong, and this is something I have not seen before. I am quite surprised he has lasted this long.”

  I grabbed the old man and I held him still to convey to him the seriousness of the situation. “We won’t disturb you, but I stress making a determination quickly.” I didn’t mean to be in his face, but anything pertaining to Damien was important to me.

  He easily pulled my fingers from his collar, and I was a little perplexed as to how he could be so calm under the circumstances. He looked at me with his eyes wide open, showing no discernible emotion about the outcome. It dawned on me that it wasn’t personal for him; he was treating it with the clinical eye of a scientist.

  “I know he’s important to you, but you’re lucky I’m not biased. I can take my time and not rush through when making my judgment. I understand emotions are running high, but there’s no call for you to assault me like this,” the old man said. I realized he hadn’t even mentioned his name, but I really had no interest in knowing it.

 

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