by Lucia Ashta
They held onto each other tightly. It was important to move together through space as one block of energy to reappear in the same place at the same time. They understood there were risks to traveling like this, but they were risks worth taking. Time was vital, and they had to accomplish their mission, whatever exactly it was.
Already connected to each other physically and by the circling energy that linked them, in unison, the light warriors released waves of gratitude to the fairies and to the forest. The fairies received their thanks, but didn’t stop what they were doing. Now that they knew what to do, they made ready to do it right away.
They took the places Ninca assigned them based on their ability to hold the energy field they would establish. In this arrangement, neighboring strength compensated for any weakness. Then the fairies commenced without warning.
As the world around Asara began to blur, and the trees and bushes became an unintelligible streak of green, she felt a pang in her heart. She’d learned to love these fairies in the short time they’d known them. She’d miss the little heroes.
Any further thought was shaken from her mind. Suddenly, her brain was consumed by the struggle to hold onto those notions of being that she identified with herself. As she tumbled, the ruby throbbing at her chest, she lost her connection with this world and any other. She was suspended in a place that lacked any defining element. There was only an intense sense of nothingness as she hurtled through the void between space and time.
Chapter 34
Space spat Asara out. She landed on her hands and knees. The world around her swirled so that she couldn’t make out anything at all. She didn’t know if she was right side up or upside down.
All she managed to do was lie on her back. Spread flat against the earth, she didn’t move. She felt as if she’d never want to move again. She yearned for stillness, for her vision to steady.
She closed her eyes, willing them to shut out the spinning of everything around her. She breathed. It was all she could do. She breathed until there was nothing but her breath. And when her breath was all there was, she focused only on it for what seemed like a very long time.
There was no talking. There was no movement. There was just the quiet intake of breath that tried to still a panicked mind.
The sun traveled across the sky and found its peak overhead before she was able to focus on anything else. Then she recognized the earth beneath her as familiar; she remembered its energy intimately.
Eventually, she was able to move her hands. Her fingers swam in an ocean of grass, and her mind finally stilled. She thought she’d cry with relief. But she didn’t. She didn’t move more than her fingers.
The sun had to advance across the sky more before she realized that the earth beneath her was familiar because it was Arnaka. And with the thought of having arrived in Arnaka, she fell asleep. The peace of sleep claimed her and removed all muddled thought from her awareness. She didn’t realize then that the fairies’ attempt had been successful, but she would when she awakened.
It took longer than any one of them would have imagined, but eventually, they all sat up. They crawled to whichever tree was nearest them and leaned on its trunk, feeling deep gratitude to have the support of Mother Earth at their backs.
When they were able, they swiveled their eyes to encompass the full range of their peripheral vision, not wanting to move their heads any more than necessary. They were all there: Kaanra, Thom, Anak, and Asara. Although the ride was significantly more tumultuous than the fairies had anticipated—they had no way of accounting for the difference the humans’ greater mass would have on space-bending travel—it had been a successful, albeit painful, journey.
Even with the significant amount of rest the light warriors were allotting to their readjustment, they were several days ahead of the time it would have taken them to walk to their destination. The doman was unharmed, and the ruby was intact. Their guardians knew it even without touching them for reassurance. Thom and Asara perceived the rhythmic connection the objects of power held with their own beating hearts. The ruby was warm from its glow against her chest.
What the light warriors were unaware of while they sat waiting to settle within themselves was something the fairies did know, but tried very hard not to fret about, focusing instead on a positive outcome to their mission. When the fairies propelled the humans through the fabric of space, a wave of energy so large was created that there was no avoiding its detection. Ripples swept in all directions to compensate for the hole the fairies created in the space-time continuum.
Waves of displaced energy rose into the sky as if they were themselves on wings. Focused on guiding the light warriors to their destination, the fairies squelched their growing concern that Brazzon would notice the disturbance. The fairies held their concentration firmly, but that didn’t diminish the disruption they caused.
Space folded in on itself for only a few moments, but the effects of this manipulation lasted much longer. Even so, the light warriors almost escaped without detection. The dark raven had been flying, searching for them, but he faced the opposite direction. He didn’t see the undulating energy rush across the forest, with the force of an explosion.
Nevertheless, fate intervened for its mysterious reasons. Just before the waves that burst forth with such power were to pull back in on themselves—the hole in space sucking them into it as it collapsed—one oscillating, undulating gasp stretched upward. In the aftermath, silence and absence would be heavy, and so the ripple strove to reach higher and higher still. And as the ripple responded to the pull to return to its origins, the disruption echoed and rose to caress the dark raven’s feather tips.
The raven turned desperately, feverishly, in mid-flight, searching for any sign of his prey. What caused the change in air currents? The agility of his flight belied the darkness of his heart with its beauty and elegance. His quick move allowed him to catch sight of the tail end of the ripple as it faded into oblivion. The light warriors had almost escaped without notice. But in the end, they didn’t.
The dark raven adjusted his course. He imbued his flight with renewed purpose and enthusiasm. He pointed his beak forward. He pumped his wings once, and then pulled them back tightly against his body. He was an example of aerodynamic perfection as he made his way toward Arnaka as quickly as the body of a bird with an uncommon reserve of strength and resolve could. After all, despite his darkness, Brazzon was extraordinary. He was capable of acts few others alive could perform.
He followed the trail of the ripples toward Arnaka. There was still a chance he could recover the doman before the light warriors had the chance to accomplish what they intended with it.
There were no obstacles in his way. The sky was clear. He pumped his wings again and he soared.
Lena willed herself to control the nausea. She was in an enclosed space; the air was stuffy and dense. Even though she couldn’t make out anything around her, she imagined there must be walls enclosing her.
It was dark. Her eyes, used to the bright sun just moments before, were unprepared to deal with this stark contrast. She lay flat on a smooth surface, until she rocketed up to seating, fearing she would vomit. She gagged.
“Amore?” Paolo’s voice came out of the surrounding darkness, startling her. He sounded like he was right next to her, yet she hadn’t noticed.
His voice was weak. It was barely more than a choked whisper. He tried to speak again, but couldn’t. Silence reigned while Lena and Paolo struggled to return stability to their bodies. It took time, longer than they wanted, but eventually their breathing normalized, the dizziness subsided, and their eyes adjusted to the pitch-black.
Finally, Lena was able to make out the outlines of shapes, and she looked around. She still had no idea where they were. One minute they were reaching out to touch the pyramid capstone, and the next they were hurtling down into a deep and dark unknown. What happened? Where were they? She wanted to ask Paolo, but when she tried to speak, she realized she wasn’t in
full control of her body yet. She quieted. She had no choice but to wait.
It was Paolo who eventually broke the silence for good. “Dove siamo?” he asked. Paolo’s reversion to his native tongue was a telltale sign to Lena that he was still unsettled.
“I don’t know,” Lena answered. She was surprised to hear her voice steadier than she thought it would be. She realized she could continue.
“The last thing I remember was all of us reaching out to touch the top of the pyramid. One minute we were in the bright sunshine of the desert, and the next we were tumbling into nothingness, plunging into darkness.”
“Yes, that’s all I remember also,” Paolo said. “I don’t understand it. What did we do? What happened?”
Lena was shaking her head in the dark, affirming her own lack of understanding, when she gasped.
“Where’s Sitting Bear?”
“Mio Dio,” Paolo said in an expression that survived from the Catholic influences of his youth.
Lena and Paolo called out to Sitting Bear. They called for him softly at first, but then they got loud. They yelled. They called out for Sitting Bear until their weak voices grew tired and hoarse, and then, finally, they quieted.
They did so just in time. If not, they would have missed it. It was a faint sound, but they were certain it was he. That low, gravelly voice was unmistakable.
Sitting Bear had been yelling his responses back to them. But Lena and Paolo couldn’t hear him. They were too committed to their continued shouting to remember to pause and listen. They would only make that mistake once this day.
“I’m here!” Sitting Bear called, his voice also strained from effort. “I’m on top of the pyramid. Where are you?”
“We don’t know where we are!” Paolo called back. “But it’s very dark in here.”
Sitting Bear’s jaw fell open. Could it be? Could it possibly be? Sitting Bear stared off, looking at nothing in particular, while he contemplated the incredible, the astonishing, the unbelievable.
“Sitting Bear?” Paolo said.
“Yes! I’m here! I think you may be inside the pyramid.”
Now it was Paolo’s turn to be silent.
Lena looked toward the faint outline of Paolo’s body. “Could it be? Could we be within the pyramid? Is that possible?”
It was Lena’s final question that led them to their answer. They had redefined their notions of possibility and impossibility lately. It was an adjustment born from necessity. Lena didn’t know if anything was impossible anymore. Perhaps some things still were, but she didn’t know which those might be.
She called out, “What are we supposed to do?”
Even as the words took flight from her lips, she knew what a ridiculous question it was. Sitting Bear couldn’t tell them what to do. No one could. They would know when the time was right. It was their destiny.
Sitting Bear seemed to sense the emptiness of Lena’s question, and he saved his breath. Lena crawled over to the shadowy outline of Paolo’s body. Her eyes trailed over him, yearning for definition she didn’t find. But her eyes did find his. In the dimness, their eyes were barely visible. However, once their eyes met, once the visual connection between eternal beloveds was forged again, Lena swore that Paolo’s eyes began to glow on their own, as if they themselves were a source of light.
Mesmerized, Paolo couldn’t turn away. He too looked into an amber fire. He saw passion that reflected his, and it was this passion that would carry them, blazing, through the windows of the soul and of destiny.
Chapter 35
Outside the pyramid, still resting his hand against the capstone, Sitting Bear turned his eyes to the heavens. Something was brewing.
The wind whipped around him. Sitting Bear turned his collar up against the otherworldly wind that had appeared out of the stillness of moments before. Clouds came rushing in where there’d been none, blotting out the normalcy of the sunny day.
The clouds came together, forming a swirling vortex above the tip of the pyramid, building in intensity. The torrential sky combined light and dark; it was a symbolic forecasting of the battle that would define the prominence of only one.
This was now a matter for the heavens. Sitting Bear prepared to make his descent. He wouldn’t abandon Lena and Paolo, but with a storm like this, he had to get down from there. If he stayed, nature would force him down, and he doubted the result would be gentle.
Sitting Bear bellowed to the twins that he had to climb down the pyramid. He shouted against the howling wind, while his wary eyes watched thick, pregnant rain clouds skirting in. He didn’t know if Lena and Paolo would hear him over the growing roar of the skies, but he turned and started his careful trek down the pyramid anyway. He had no choice but to leave right away.
The fast-moving storm was localized and, to anyone who knew what to look for, it was obvious the tempest was of an otherworldly nature. Coyote noticed the changes first. His animal body was designed to sense acute shifts in atmospheric pressure. Kel, attuned to the presence of darkness—both his blessing and his curse—felt the shift next. He stopped what he was doing immediately, and he changed directions. He was close. He hurried to the pyramid.
The inhabitants of the neighboring towns attributed the unusually fast-building storm to the whims of nature, and they headed inside to the shelter of their vinyl-sided homes. But the animals, even domesticated pets, were ill at ease. A cacophony of howls and animal warnings rang out in the quickly darkening midday sky.
There was another who was also paying rapt attention. When the light changed, announcing that these were times of other worlds, one with a heart long ago given over to darkness looked to the skies. They threatened chaos and destruction, and this menace gave him joy. However, there was no real mirth in the smile that split his swarthy face. It was an expression of pure darkness that enjoyed the torment of others.
The man righted his shirt, pulling down on crisp edges, and turned toward the pyramid. He’d be there soon and, if he got his way, he’d interfere with the light in every way he could. Nothing would make him happier.
The ruby glowed insistently, urging the light warriors to their feet long before they felt ready to move. They had to advance. Enough time had passed while they waited for their physical bodies to adjust to the unexpected harshness of space travel.
The ruby at Asara’s chest was warm, and it pushed down on her heart. It wanted her to do something. She moved into action before the ruby’s indicators became any more insistent. Her body was still too fragile to deal with anything the ruby might do to motivate her.
She looked toward the sea to get her bearings. The ruby was clearly pulling her toward the water, but where exactly was the pyramid under the water’s concealing surface? When Vilu, the dolphin, led her to the pyramid years before, they’d come upon it while underwater. The landmarks she used as reference to find her way didn’t help her now.
Soon, however, it became apparent that she wouldn’t need landmarks. The ruby propelled her into motion. It seemed to come alive, as if it had a mind of its own and the will to see its goal realized. In response to the power the ruby emitted, Asara’s feet moved forward as if of their own volition. They moved in the direction of the water, and she trusted the ruby would lead her right to the underwater pyramid. She didn’t need to do anything to find the way.
Asara relinquished control, and the ruby led her toward the water even faster than it had moments before. Anak walked immediately behind her, and Thom and Kaanra were only paces behind him. The light warriors understood what was happening without her telling them, and they banded together.
When they were near enough to the water to hear its hypnotic sounds, something unusual happened. It had been a normal day, the skies blue and clear. Then those fluffy white clouds that floated off in the distance transformed and became torrential. Dark clouds clashed with each other in rumbles that shook the earth, and the disruption was intensifying.
Mother Nature, or something else that conspired with he
r, was at work. Asara picked up the pace. The water was already beginning to churn in response to what was happening directly overhead—as above, so below. The rate at which the waters were reflecting the changes in the skies was alarming.
The sky above the sea was now a dense and varied shade of gray. The clouds continued to clash with each other, sounding like angry gods. The first bolt of lightning struck the ground near the water. Thunder followed in a rumble that snaked across the earth. Anak took Asara’s hand. No matter what it looked like by the time they reached the water, they would still do what they needed to do, and they both knew it. Their resolve was firm.
The sky orchestrated the raging clouds into a spiraling vortex. Crackling air, live with electrical energy, swirled above the water’s surface. The frenzy of chaos and power announced itself loudly in another startling crack of thunder, immediately following a blinding flash of lightning.
It was light and dark coming together—simultaneously clashing and cooperating in an accurate reflection of how light and dark worked together to bring about soul evolution—that was the root cause of the supernatural storm. Usually, the more powerful or prevalent energy gradually influenced the weaker energy that didn’t match it until the lesser energy became like it. However, in this case, the light and the dark met rapidly and with great force. There was no opportunity for gradual adaptation. Instead, flashing light and thunder clashed and clanged.
Thom put his hand beneath his cloak to check the doman. It was tucked safely against his beating heart. It rested as if unaware of what was building around them, sleeping as an infant could, no matter what was happening in its surroundings. The doman felt peaceful and calm, content even.
Thom knew the doman was powerful. Of course it was. It had to be. After all, it was the object of the great prophet’s final prophecy. It was important enough that Dann used his last words and dying wish on the survival of this prophecy. The doman was vital.
