It was reminiscent of what happened to Danielle’s dishes if she left them in her sink for too long. “What is that?” she asked.
“I honestly have no idea. I’ve picked up French in my years studying your planet and decided to give it a try.”
“I doubt either of us know enough French to help you out, then.”
“Oh, I know that neither of you know French.” Marlow made no faces when he tasted the tourin. Garlicky, indeed. That was one of his favorite flavors to come from Earth. “Spanish, yes?” He pointed his soup spoon toward Devon. “Spanish and a smattering of Japanese for you.”
Both guests sat back in their seats, eyes wide. “How did you know that?” Danielle asked.
“What else do you know about me?”
“Well,” Marlow narrowed his brows at Devon. “You’ve spent most of your academic career playing electronic games or performing music to no one in particular. Your grades are average at best, your current girlfriend believes that your life is going nowhere since you have yet to land yourself a post-grad job, and you wear a size 11 in men’s shoes.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m looking for a job, okay?” Devon could shoot Danielle’s scoff right back at her. “Apparently, computer science majors aren’t as in demand anymore.”
“They are in the military.”
“Considered it, decided I liked being alive and not killing people.”
“I don’t recommend you joining, either.” Danielle’s smirk punctured whatever barrier Devon still had built around him. “They’d eat you alive. For breakfast.”
“Anyway,” Marlow interrupted, “I don’t suppose I could get either of you interested in plotting a course of action now, would I? There’s much to discuss and not much time before I figure Nerilis makes his move for the Relics.”
Both Danielle and Devon sat back in their seats as Marlow’s words disseminated over the table. Devon relaxed his tense arms and cleared his throat. “So… what do we do? What do these ‘Relics’ look like, and why do we want them?”
“That’s a tricky question every time.” Marlow reached into his pocket and produced a golden watch. He did not open the lid. “The Old Ways say that every planet’s soul is expressed through its people.”
Blank looks yet again. This time Danielle had her chin propped up on her hand, eyes struggling to stay open.
“Sentient spirituality manifests through manmade objects. There are usually two objects that are especially infused with spiritual energy. One will be an object of the people, not necessarily a religious icon. The other will be a personal object that is associated with powerful emotions… the objects themselves aren’t what’s special. It’s the spiritual power imbued into them by a single person or a whole people.”
“Objects, huh? For the whole planet?” Danielle mumbled. “I don’t have time to fly to Brazil and Thailand scouring villages for spiritual shit.” While she didn’t intend to sound so flippant about other people’s spirituality, her own was at its limit.
“That’s the beauty of it. They must be somewhere around here for you both to be born in this area.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Not really. The Old Ways say…”
“Say Old Ways one more time, old man.”
Marlow sent Danielle a loaded glare instead. “It’s spiritual magic, okay? Does that explanation placate you?”
“Seriously. Just say that next time. Spiritual magic. Got it.”
“How would we know if we found one?” Devon asked. “This city alone has about five thousand Catholic and indigenous icons that could fit that category. You want us to find one?”
Marlow pointed to Devon’s tattoo hiding on the underside of his wrist. “Those markings double as activators for the Relics. They’ll ache when you’re near one.”
“Great. It’s like getting burned every time we try to save the world.”
Marlow ignored that. “When you find a Relic, it’s imperative that you tell no one but those sitting at this table. If word gets out, Nerilis might discover you and then we’ll all be in trouble. I’m banking on him not knowing your identities yet. He’s killed you in the past, and he’ll try to kill you again.”
“He what?”
Danielle stood up from her seat. “It’s been fun, you two,” she said, skepticism still rank in her voice, “but this little mercenary has got to head off now. Let’s hope the world is still around in the morning.” She closed her sweater across her chest. “No offense, of course, but I do have a life outside of playing ‘save the world’ with new friends.”
Marlow had expected such a reaction. In time, however, he was convinced that he could once again get her to come around. The seed was planted, after all. “Just remember what I’ve said, Ms. Danielle. It’s a dark world out there. It always is.”
She bit her lip as a smile tried to burst forth. Behind her, Devon rounded the table in her direction. Danielle humored him with a glance.
“Oh, by the way,” Marlow said. “Your lives are bound by fate more closely than you can imagine. It’s no coincidence that you two live in the same city. I implore you to explore your connections… they are usually filled with clues as to where Relics are located.”
“Will do, old man.” Danielle entered the main gallery. The piano music amplified, only to be drowned out by conversations and laughter as she walked by the other diners.
The sun was almost gone behind the nearby buildings, the last rays of light streaming down the glass panes of offices and apartment complexes as a crisp, spring breeze rustled Danielle’s hair.
“Hey!” Devon’s voice echoed behind her. She slowed down and allowed him to catch up.
“What do you want?” she asked, keeping her languid pace. “I don’t have time to deal with this shit right now.”
“Do you still not believe him?”
His question got Danielle to come to a halt in the middle of the sidewalk. For a moment, all she could do was stare at him through hollow hazel eyes. “Believe him? Are you kidding me? Are you telling me that you do?”
“I don’t know. It’s a lot to take in.”
“I’ve dealt with a lot of crap in my line of work, but nothing like that. I’d be lying if I said it was totally unbelievable.”
“So you think it might be true?”
Danielle almost spouted something sour at him, but refrained. After an afternoon of trying to wash away the ink from her wrist and unable to make even a dent around the edges, she wondered if what had happened was real. “I didn’t say that.” Her cracking voice was no comfort. “It’s a lot to take in, like you said.” She started walking again.
Devon insisted on following her. “If we’re going to seriously consider this, don’t you think we should… I don’t know… work together?”
“Go home, kid. Go home to your girlfriend.”
Devon stopped. As he considered slinking to his empty apartment since Alicia was out with her law school friends that night, his mind wandered back to the solitary stud pinched in one of Danielle’s ears. Between that, her short hair, and her style, he could barely contain himself. “I’ll go home to mine if you go home to yours.”
The clacking of Danielle’s shoes stopped. Being outed by a college student in the middle of a semi-busy street left an interesting taste in her mouth. Nice and bitter. Little sour, too. “You think it’s like that, huh?”
“My gaydar may not be the most finely-tuned of them all, but somehow I don’t think I’m too far off the mark.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend, thanks.” Danielle turned her head away again, leaving Devon to stare at the back of her blond head. “I’d appreciate it if you kept such comments to yourself. I don’t feel like being discharged.”
“So you are…?”
“Around here? Isn’t everyone?”
“I guess you’re right.” Although it didn’t apply to him. “Don’t worry. I won’t go around blabbing about it.”
“Dutifully appreciated.”
Danielle pushed a stray hair out of her eyes and marched off one final time. “Maybe I’ll see you around, kid.”
“My name’s Devon.”
“Yeah, sure. Devon.”
Neither of them had any idea how often she would be saying his name in their budding life together.
FIVE
As Devon anticipated, his apartment was dark and empty. He passed his evening in front of the TV, trying to ignore the aching thoughts in the back of his head.
Alicia returned home near midnight while he was en route to bed. She was not intoxicated, but a quick kiss announced that she had been somewhere full of cigarette and pot smoke. Also not unusual when it came to her and her stressed out law school friends.
She joined him shortly after he climbed into bed, pulling a book down from the nightstand as she went over some vocabulary from one of her classes.
“Hey, Alicia…”
“What is it?” She chewed on a pencil. Not that she ever used that pencil to write a damn thing in her books. The pencil solely existed for chewing.
“Do you believe in reincarnation?”
Alicia pulled the pencil out of her mouth and stared at him through her round reading glasses. “No? I’m not inclined to believe in that sort of thing. Why do you ask?”
“Curious, I guess.”
“What, are you thinking about becoming a Buddhist again?”
“No.” He didn’t appreciate that scoff in her voice. “Curious, like I said.”
She went back to studying. The sole light in the room came from the lamp next to her side of the bed, and Devon turned his head away so the light did not creep onto his face. “Since you were raised Baptist,” he said, “do you think it’s possible the apocalypse could be coming anytime soon?”
“What the hell are you going on about? I may have been raised Baptist, but I’m more agnostic in practice. I’m living in sin with you, for Christ’s sake.” And taking the good Lord’s name in vain.
“Could you just answer the question?”
Alicia slammed her book shut and pulled off her reading glasses. “The apocalypse? What are you on? Are you that anxious about graduating and becoming a big boy?” She turned off her light and dove beneath the covers. “Don’t be surprised if we’re still here after the Rapture.”
As she settled into the folds of the bed and Devon stared into the darkness of the room, his mind wandered back once again to the idea that he was a fated person meant to save the world or die trying. The room closed in as the thought of the world grew inside his mind, expanding to let him imagine every square mile of sea and land, every group of people going about their lives… and that he was supposed to protect them all, to make sure that some unbalanced geezer sorcerer didn’t get his rocks off by blowing up a whole planet filled with six billion people and other precious life forms. It was like some angel had descended into the room and told him he was Jesus.
Next to him, Alicia pulled her pillow farther beneath her head. Devon looked at the back of her dark hair and gave in to his need to hold her close and promise her that he would do everything he could to protect them both… well, he would hold her, anyway.
Alicia exhaled an exasperated breath and smacked the back of her hand against his face. “Not tonight,” she said. “I’m tired.”
Devon lessened his grip. “I wasn’t thinking about that.” He pulled the hand off his face. “Although I wouldn’t be opposed to it. We haven’t had sex in how long?” And the last time was a ten-minute whopper of a marathon that produced less fun than getting teeth cleaned.
“Like I said, I wouldn’t be into it.”
Devon gave up and turned over to face the window. The glass was left ajar, allowing a breeze to pass through and play with the thin curtains shielding the window from light. For the past year, he had stared at these moving curtains, attempting to move them with his weary mind. Tonight, however, all he cared about was showing affection to his girlfriend. He didn’t know when his next chance to show her how much he loved her would be – or if she cared.
***
Danielle’s room was quiet, aside from the sirens blaring outside her window. She stayed up late that night, sitting cross-legged on her bed and surfing the internet. After a tiring evening of being fed a bunch of bullshit, Danielle looked forward to spending a quiet night at home with nothing more than her thoughts and a CD playing in the background.
Left to her loneliness once more, Danielle closed her clamshell phone and contemplated turning it off. She soon forgot about that as she glanced back at her nightstand and thought of something more depressing.
She pulled out the only photo album she owned. The background music of her favorite album continued to play as the cover flipped open to reveal the first installment of Danielle’s post-college life. The first one was with her grandmother, both in uniform, on the day Danielle graduated Basic Training.
The next few pages were filled with fading photos and hasty notes from years of abuse.
Danielle should have skipped these pages in favor of more current events, but as her eyes fell upon a picture of her and her ex-girlfriend Ally, her heart stopped and her breath exhaled without invitation. The first picture showed the two of them sitting together at an outdoor café, their bodies shrouded in dark clothing but their faces warm with shy smiles as they looked at the camera. Danielle put the photo album down. Fingers traced the outline of her ex’s face.
She stared at a picture of the two of them playfully kissing the night of Ally’s twenty-first birthday, the butterfly-shaped locket Danielle had given her prominent around her girlfriend’s neck. Not even a few months later, she told Danielle that she no longer wished to be in a “sinful” relationship with her. Whether Ally had found Christianity again or the pressure from her strict and morally correct parents to leave her homosexual relationship got to her, Danielle had no clue. She was an emotional train wreck, so distraught that she took two weeks off from work and escaped to her grandmother’s ranch in search of reassurance.
She pulled out a piece of white paper from one of the album’s pockets. It unfolded, making Danielle’s heart sink as she recognized Ally’s handwriting. “Hey, thanks for the little note! It was just what I needed to get through my exams. Love you!” Danielle did not appreciate being thrust into memories of coming home to find her ex attempting to cook dinner for them.
A shudder claimed her body. Strange. The air conditioner was not on. The windows were not open.
But something did lurk outside her window.
Danielle saw the shadow in the corner of her eye when a faded hand dripping darkness thrust against her bedroom window. Her body froze. Gone were the shudders. Survival instinct kicked in – to stay still was the only way to stay alive.
If she listened to her soul screaming in her body, she would know what it was. Most languages, including the ancient julah that a man like Master Ramaron Marlow natively spoke, called them Shadows. When Danielle first encountered a Shadow, it was during her second life. For the woman of her first did not contain endless spiritual potential within her.
Should she move, the beast that had slithered up her apartment building, attracted to her potential energy (now amplified by the sorcerer’s tattoo on her wrist), would break through her window and devour her.
Danielle had occasionally felt their presence in the past thirty years. But it wasn’t until she met Devon and Marlow that the hungry ghosts of the Void grew brazen enough to approach.
She must stay still and quiet. Her adrenaline may pump, and her heart may race, but the Shadows were blind enough to miss her should she want to live that badly.
Well, she hadn’t been consumed yet after a thousand years…
Eventually, when it grew weary, the Shadow crumbled into a hundred black butterflies. Lost creatures, lost souls that never made their way back to the Void after death. They could only sustain themselves for so long. Danielle’s untapped potential was their last hope.
They became a part of the night with
the next strong breeze. Whoever they were, whoever they were meant to one day be, was gone forever.
Danielle snapped out of her subconscious need to survive. She soon forgot what had even affected her like that.
Minutes later, as she lay in the darkness of her room, she recollected Devon’s comments about his girlfriend. Must be easy to be a kid in college… a college that was considered the rival school to the one Danielle went to before dropping out and joining the military. Maybe her and Devon’s fates really were intertwined in such ways.
Preposterous, of course.
***
Inside an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city dwelled not much more than rats and lice. But beneath the heavy machinery and cobwebs resided a small, broken clock that appeared as if it once belonged inside the office of an executive – its myrtlewood build glistened in light, its ticks graced the ears of those sitting around it, and the numbers were hand carved. However, it did not belong in the factory at all, having been deposited there a few months earlier by someone who broke in under the cover of darkness.
There was another world inside the clock. Upon touching it, one was transported to a strange, dark place reminiscent of a damp entrance to a haunted house. The only source of light came from the face of the clock where, unlike on the outside, a pendulum swung.
“Are you sure it was them?” Nerilis Dunsman shuffled across his makeshift floor. Years of paranoia made him check the entrance, the only crack in his barriers. His magic was stronger than Ramaron Marlow’s, but no magic was totally impervious to outside forces that could discover it and insist on moving in.
A woman flashed the edge of her sunglasses toward him. “I spotted the woman following Marlow’s dog. You know, the Basset Hound.”
Nerilis wrote this down in a well-worn notebook. He missed the ones made of julah-flah, a mixture of flax and itop leather found only on his home planet. His infamy kept him with a short supply of the comforts of home. “I’m saying that I sent you out for one day and you come back to tell me such good news, but without proof. You’re creating senseless attention.”
Rebirth (Cross Book 1) Page 6
