by Amy Marie
Uncle Mike interrupts my thoughts. “Perhaps you can now understand my struggle that first day, of where to start with you?” he laughs dryly.
“I can’t imagine,” I say, finding myself at a loss for words.
For some reason, Talbot’s words from my memory come to mind. The light is subdued, and I have the power to prolong the darkness. Well, now that makes sense.
By killing Eleanor and cursing Darcy, he carried out his plan and disrupted the balance of the oldest souls. He has successfully continued to keep us apart and disrupt the balance, causing the shattered souls to live in chaos ever since.
I consider Darcy. Nearly three hundred years knowing the enormity of this situation, and being powerless to progress. How has he survived?
Glancing around, it’s obvious we’re all haggard from the day’s discoveries. Rafe is already sprawled out on one of the couches looking as if his mind has exploded on the inside.
Darcy asks Uncle Mike to stay the rest of the night to remain safe in the sanctuary, and offers the second room to him. Uncle Mike refuses the room, but they both work to set up temporary beds on the two couches.
When Uncle Mike and Rafe are both settled in, Darcy pulls me to the side to say goodnight in his usual hand-kissing fashion.
“Are you alright?” he asks, searching my eyes.
“It’s a bit much, but I’m sure I’ll survive. I’ve done it before, right?” I say with an exhausted half-smile. I sweep my lashes up to him to find his gaze caressing me.
“You understand now, why I call you my sunshine?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye.
“Does that mean I should call you my prince of darkness?” I joke lamely.
“You may call your soul mate whatever you would like,” he says.
“You are not my soul mate,” I say, rolling my eyes, but smiling.
“That is not what the book implies. Goodnight, my light,” he says in a mockingly sweet voice as he kisses my hand.
Resisting the urge to slap away his kiss, I instead turn and stumble my way exhaustedly into bed, giggling internally. I’m irritated with myself at how charming I’m starting to find his boyish teasing. With my mixed emotions, I pull the covers up over my head and fall into a deep sleep.
Chapter 27
My dreams are clouded with visions of an ancient past.
Flashes of lives lived and sacrifices made swirl through my mind. Symbols dance in front of my eyes, as the sun and the moon meld together into one, creating a force to be reckoned with.
I see a mix of thousands of different tribes, cultures, and civilizations spread throughout the ages. Even though there are so many, they’re not separated by their variety, but instead they’re all connected together somehow. You can’t see it, but it’s definitely there.
My consciousness in my dream recalls Darcy’s words about the flowing water of the river: The water that flows is different now than the water then, and yet, all the water is somehow connected. Yes, it’s like that. We’re all part of it, whether we know it or not.
The idea of all the differences of people in the world being connected seems incomprehensible to me, yet a new part of me shines light on the possibility of it. Part of me can now see the potential. There’s a word for it, I know. But it’s just out of my reach.
Maybe it’ll come to me in time.
My dream changes, and I stand with the elements surrounding me. To my left are crashing waves of water, while to my right is a wall of burning flames. In front of me I feel the force of rushing winds, while behind me an avalanche of earth tumbles down.
Suddenly, from the whooshing air in front of me I hear – or maybe feel – something calling. In my mind’s eye, I see flashes of people’s lives and tragically destructive ends.
First, there was a petite young woman who lived high up on the mountain, secluded from the town below. She loved the feel of the open air on her skin. She envied the birds for their flight, and wore a garment made of feathers set to look like wings, dreaming one day she might fly herself. One night, as she stood on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the scenic view below, she spread her arms to invite the breeze in for a goodnight embrace. Two men crept up, capturing her from behind. She was seized by a mob that had gathered from the town nearby, in fear that she may be a fairy. The feathers of her garment earned her no weight on the scales of justice. She was given no trial. The mob buried her alive, deep underground to be sure she could not escape into the air to unleash her power upon them.
Released from the air, I hear a similar noise from my right. When I focus on the fire, I see an image in the flames: A middle-aged man who lived near the crater of an active volcano, his entire body painted in ash. The heat of the crater called to him, and he knew the volcano was his home. He prayed to the fire, seeking visions in the glow of the fluid rock. The tribe nearby feared him to be a fire elemental, and worried he would call an eruption forth that would wipe them out. They hunted down the ash-painted man, and screaming “Ifrit!” threw him a pool of water, drowning him to extinguish his fiery powers.
Let loose from that burning vision, I turn my attention to the water on my left: The rippling waves give a distorted perspective, but I can make out the scene of a young girl walking along the beach and dancing in the waves. The water called to her, singing sweet melodies with the tide. She felt at home in the sea, swimming every day. She gathered shells on the beach and made jewelry from the ocean’s gifts. In jealousy, another woman called her a siren and a cursed mermaid. The bitter woman convinced a crowd that the young girl needed to be burned, before her watery magic turned black and deadly on the town. Her ashes never even found their way back to the sea.
Freed from the call of the deep, I finally circle around to the wall of earth. Tremors open up the wall of earth and call me forward until I can view the vision in the bottomless pit: A dwarfed man lived deep underground in a cave as a hermit from society due to his difference in size. He kept to himself and lived happily in the deserted woods. When he was eventually found, he was accused of being an earth gnome, and was blamed for the nearby town’s misfortunes due to his fiendish trickery. He was hanged in the public square, feet dangling in the air as he struggled for his last breath.
Sadly, life after life was lost due to fear and misunderstanding. These supposed creatures of mythology that lived in real history, were simply people trying to live their lives in a way that may have been slightly different than the rest. Are these frightening fables examples of how fairy tales are born?
I wake up short of breath in a rush of confusion. Sadness fills my heart as a part of me realizes that the lives I dreamt about must have been real at some point in time.
The reminiscence is speaking to me, trying to tell me something. But what would those creatures of myth have to do with me? Everything is hazy in my waking moments, and continues to get foggier as I get out of bed.
My mind’s work from the night’s dreams is temporarily forgotten, as I remember that today I’ll get to see my sister! There’s a new enthusiasm in my medieval morning routine of getting ready. I hop around the room in anticipation.
In the great room, Uncle Mike has already resumed his translation post with Darcy by his side. Rafe is still sleeping on one of the couches.
Going out into the kitchen area, I rustle up some hearty stacks of pancakes for breakfast. When the aroma wakes our second guardian, we all sit down to enjoy the morning meal.
After we eat, Uncle Mike grudgingly leaves the book to go home and retrieve Char. The three of us that remain try to think of the best way to break the situation to her.
“I can’t imagine what she’ll think,” Rafe says, “I mean, I knew some rumors about the Statera and was blindsided!”
“Well, she doesn’t need to know everything right away, just enough to keep her out of danger,” I suggest.
“I agree,” says Darcy. “Do not overwhelm her, or her mind will automatically reject it. You had your memories to help you adjust to the reality of the s
ituation, and you had some semblance of prior knowledge, even if you were not certain of it.” He gestures to me, and then to Rafe. “She will need much more time than you both did.”
Rafe begins to ask some questions about the memories of the reminiscence. As Darcy gives his best explanations, I get out my journal to write out my dreams from last night.
Doing my best to remember, I write out a few small details, recalling strange creatures. There was maybe a fairy, and a mermaid? I shake my head in an attempt to free my thoughts of images from Disney movies, and force myself to concentrate a little harder.
Recalling the fuzzy details, something tugs at the back of my mind. I feel like I’m missing something big about the elements, but my train of thought is interrupted as my cell phone starts ringing from the kitchen.
Retrieving it, a quick look at the screen tells me Uncle Mike is calling.
That’s strange.
With an ominous feeling, I answer the phone.
“Hello?”
“Eleanor! Charity is gone.”
Chapter 28
There’s a weighted pain in my stomach that’s fueling my panic. It actually physically hurts to know my sister might be in trouble.
“Have either you, or Raphael heard from her since I checked in with her last night?” Uncle Mike asks, his voice frantic.
“No, I haven’t. Last I heard was when she told you she was in for the evening. Let me ask Rafe. Hang on.” Holding the phone away, I ask Rafe if he’s heard from Char. My voice is shaking.
“I’m not sure,” he answers. “My cell phone died early on last night.”
I grab his phone and take it to my charger stationed in the kitchen by the outlets, while the guys follow me in. The charger plugs into the phone, and after a moment, turns back on. My stomach sinks even further as I hear several noises of notification. I turn to Rafe, holding out the phone. He looks through to see if any of the messages are from Char.
His breathing changes, and the color drains from his face.
“She texted me last night asking if I wanted to go downtown with her. She said one of her friends from class had too much to drink and got ahold of her, asking her if she could go pick a group of them up.”
My body starts trembling. Darcy grabs my phone from me to relay the information to Uncle Mike. I slide down the wall crouching to the ground in helplessness.
Oh no, God, please.
“There is?” I hear Darcy ask, looking my way. “Yes, I understand. Yes, we will work on calling her classmate.”
“I’m on it,” Rafe says.
Darcy hangs up the phone and reaches for me. Picking me up with ease, he carries me out to the great room. Setting me down gently on the couch, he asks me to calm down until we figure out what happened.
“Michael is on his way back. We will find her. It will be okay,” he says. He holds me in his embrace, stroking my hair as I continue to shake in fear.
I vaguely register Rafe on his phone. He seems to be getting nowhere. He hangs up and runs upstairs to use Uncle Mike’s computer to search for a few phone numbers.
Left alone with Darcy, I feel comfortable enough with him to let a few tears escape from my eyes.
After a few minutes, I turn to look at him, “Talbot?” I ask.
He nods, his face dark. “Yes. We are sure of it.”
“How can you be certain?” I wonder.
He looks at me a long moment before he admits, “He left you a note.”
“He what? What did it say?” I ask, bemused.
“Michael only said that it was for you. I can guess what it may say though. Please Nora, understand that Talbot is setting you up.”
A memory flashes of a messenger delivering a written letter regarding Eleanor’s father. The letter lured her from her hiding spot, right into the destructor’s hands.
This is just like last time.
“We can’t just let him take her,” I say. I refuse to let things happen that way again. But I can’t just sit here and do nothing.
“We will think of something. Michael did not want to even tell you about the note, but I did not want to keep it from you. But you cannot go to him… please promise me you will not go to him, no matter what the note says.”
I can’t make that promise when Char’s life may be on the line.
“What if it was Gabriel?” I ask. “I know you loved him like a brother, because I–I mean she, did too.”
“It is a trap, Nora! I do not care if I end up having to lock you into that room again, you will not go to him. We will think of something.”
Things with Darcy are about to get worked up into a screaming match in response to his demands, when Uncle Mike enters the room, followed by Rafe.
Uncle Mike looks worse than I’ve ever seen him. I rush to get up and give him a hug. He’s shaking just as bad as I am. “I should have gone home last night. I was so caught up with the book. I should have made sure she was safe.”
“You had no way of knowing. None of us did,” I say, my voice quiet and shaking.
Rafe grabs our attention. “I got in touch with Char’s friend, Jenny. She says Char picked them up downtown and dropped them off at her dorm on the lower campus. Last Jenny knew, she was just going to return home. This was around 1:30 am,” he tells us.
“It must have happened on her way back home. Do you have the note?” Darcy asks Uncle Mike.
Uncle Mike gives Darcy a stern look for divulging the existence of the note to me. “I found this after I spoke with you,” he says to me. Reluctantly, he hands the small piece of paper to Darcy, and we both take a look:
Follow the mouth that never speaks, to the bank of bends and leaks,
Where deep beneath you’ll find a bed, though you cannot rest your head,
Always running fast or slow, do not bring your friends in tow,
If you come alone instead, you may catch up and save the dead.
A riddle? This was definitely not what I was expecting. It’s almost like he’s playing with me. Dread fills me at the last three words.
“So, our evil destructor is a fan of riddles?” asks Rafe, slack-jawed with confusion.
“He is taunting her.” Darcy pierces me with a sharp look of warning. “You cannot go.”
“He’s threatening Charity’s life, Darcy!” Uncle Mike says, just at the same time that I yell, “You can’t stop me!”
“Just hang on a second,” Rafe says, holding up his hands. “Everyone calm down. It’s the middle of the day, so nothing is happening this instant because he can’t go out in the light, right? So, let’s talk about this. Now what the hell was that riddle about?”
“It’s obvious,” I say, “the mouth, the bank, the bed, all things that belong to a river. He wants me to meet him at the river. It was the same with Eleanor. This is how it all happened last time.”
“And look at what happened to you last time,” Darcy says with a growl.
“To her! It happened to Eleanor. That doesn’t mean he’s going to do the same to me. That note implies that if I go alone, I can save Char. I have to try!”
“He is baiting you, Nora! Open your eyes! He is using this riddle to instill fear and panic, and to trick you into his trap. He feeds on things like this. You must remember, he is an empty shell with no soul.”
“He’s right, Eleanor,” Uncle Mike says, “We do have to be rational. You can’t fight against this kind of evil alone, it will only get more powerful with your destruction. He will lure you in and feed off of your hate, your panic, and your fear.”
“What do you suggest we do, Uncle Mike? I can’t just let him kill Char!”
“We must think of something. The book–”
I interrupt him. “No! We don’t have time to interpret the damn book!” I scream with tears in my eyes. “This is the only family I have left.”
“She’s my family too, my dear,” Uncle Mike says gently.
“None of us will let anything to happen to Char,” Rafe speaks up in reassurance. “We
’ll come up with something.”
Darcy seems to be stuck between sympathy and anger with me. Flexing the muscles in his cheek, he nods at Uncle Mike, “We must use the elements. If they can provide a safeguard, perhaps they can help us with this. Michael, scan the book. Raphael, come with me, I need your help with something. Nora, please stay put where it is safe. I promise I will think of something to do by sundown tonight. But you must promise me you will not try to go on your own.”
I grit my teeth and nod my head offhandedly.
“Say ‘I promise’, Nora!” he scowls, temper flaring.
I look Darcy straight into his eyes, ignoring the charge involved, and say, “I promise.”
For the first time in my life, I’ve just knowingly and deliberately lied.
Chapter 29
Rafe looks up the exact time of sunset to be 7:09 pm. After he and Darcy go to work in private, I assist Uncle Mike in looking through the Statera, focusing on anything that mentions the elements.
Uncle Mike spends nearly an hour pointing out that the elements seem to be the only weapon that can actually fight against Talbot. “It’s just the elements. You can’t use anything else. If you attempt to destroy a destructor, it seems as if you only make him more powerful. Like feeding gasoline to a fire. Not to mention the power of the curse.”
His words are daunting. “So, what on earth are we supposed to do?” I ask.
“Do you have any memories from the reminiscence of defeating a destructor?” he asks.
I shake my head, slumping my shoulders. “None. Part of me feels like it was always a goal to avoid the evil altogether, and take the precautions so that what little we did know would successfully be passed down and not be forgotten.”
“Have you looked through the book, my dear? Not the photocopies, but the actual text?”
To be honest, I’ve been avoiding the antique, not wanting to damage it. Now that I think about it, I’ve strictly been working from the copies.
“Maybe actually seeing the book directly may help you. Maybe it will spark some buried memories,” he encourages me.
