***
“Kesil? Kesil!” Chrissi shakes the form, curled up with his backpack as a pillow. He begins to stir slowly. “Lesia! Wake Phil. Quickly!” Lesia saunters over to Phil’s sleeping figure, laying face down on the dirt path, each limb spread far out like a star.
“Um, hey,” she says loudly, tapping his head with her shoe as if he is last week’s dinner. “Hey!” she pauses and taps him a little harder.
“Umph,” he responds with no movement.
Lesia bends down as close as she can to his ear.
“HEY!” she screams as shrilly as possible.
Both Phil and Kesil jolt awake. Phil is on his feet in one fail sweep and Kesil is sitting upright holding a frying pan he had hidden beneath his backpack.
Lesia laughs uncontrollably, falling to the ground on her back and kicking up her legs comically. She pauses to glance at Phil as he realizes what happened and gives her a look of irritation, followed by embarrassment. She laughs even harder as his face burns red, holding her stomach and rocking back-and-forth like a loon.
“Oh, oh, it, hurts!” she says between struggled intakes of breath.
Kesil shakes his head and puts down the frying pan, passing a very apologetic look at a frightened and stunned Chrissi.
“Do you feel it?” Chrissi asks Kesil.
“Wh-feel wha-what?” Kesil stammers as he continues waking up.
“A presence…like someone else is here,” Chrissi whispers.
Lesia bounds to Kesil and clutches his arm in fear. “Did you see something?”
“No, I just…felt it.”
“Did you hear something?” Phil asks Chrissi.
“Well…no, no I just feel like someone else is here, watching. Don’t any of you?” she asks feeling paranoid.
“This place is creepy, period, but I don’t know if it is because I feel like I’m being watched or just because it is dark…and creepy,” Lesia shivers, still clutched to Kesil’s arm.
Chrissi shakes her head, “Maybe it was just a dream,” she tries to convince herself. She heads to the center of the clearing and begins methodically cleaning up the fire pit and food from dinner. Phil walks over and helps Chrissi while Lesia continues to hold onto Kesil for dear life.
“I’m so sorry I fell asleep!” he tells Chrissi.
“It’s fine,” she says shortly, scared and confused.
“Um, yeah, me too,” Kesil says joining them, finally having released himself from Lesia’s grip.
“We’re OK so no problem guys, really,” she looks up for the first time glancing pointedly at each boy, “Really.” She continues cleaning up and packing. She’s tired and distressed. Anything could have happened overnight, especially if someone, or something, really is watching. But they are all OK she reminds herself. Perhaps it was Roi who protected them. She shakes the thought away as she shoves a couple of wooden spoons back into Lesia’s bag. Less than a week ago she wasn’t sure Roi still lived. Now, suddenly, she feels his protection. This awaited journey seems to have added more confusion, she concludes.
It takes over an hour for them to pick back up just because they still feel tired. It is still dark and feels like 3 a.m. rather than 10 a.m. Once they are packed, everyone dons their respective backpacks, Lesia still snickering every time Phil glances in her direction, and set out once again on the spacious dirt path. They walk side by side again, slowly and quietly except Kesil; his eyes are wide open as he scans the forest before them from side-to-side and walks slightly in front of everyone. After awhile Kesil is overwhelmed with anxiety and an unexplainable pull to rush.
“Come on, we need to step it up. I have a feeling we can reach it today,” he says.
“You have a feeling?” says Lesia. “Well by all means, if you have a feeling, let’s run!” She gave up on him yesterday when he seemed more concerned about Chrissi and became consumed with finding the Book. “I’m not expending energy for a bunch of bound paper!” she says bitterly.
Kesil rolls his eyes and presses on.
“I’m tired!” Lesia continues her bitter discourse. “I’m tired of walking, I’m tired of night and trees and dirt! Can we just take a break?”
“It’s only been one hour since we started,” Phil reminds her. Thoughts of his hands caressing the original Book with its old, worn, and yellowing pages consume his mind and push him forward in renewed vigor.
“There’s only one path,” Kesil says curtly.
“How do we know we’re going the right way?” she whines.
Lesia’s question rose another in Chrissi’s mind, “Kesil, if other people have been on journeys, wouldn’t they have looked for the Book too? How do we know it is where it’s supposed to be?” Chrissi asks.
“I don’t know,” Kesil sighs with melancholy. It crossed his mind before they began but the dream and Chrissi’s headstone hang over him. Surely the other path leading to the king will kill her.
“I do,” Phil says so quietly they almost do not hear him.
“What?” Chrissi asks, jolting Phil from his dream state.
“Well, it’s Roi’s Book. He provides it to everyone who needs it whenever and wherever they need it. I think,” he emphasizes his uncertainty, “the Books on our plane are like copies or imprints of the original.”
“So they’re all the original Book,” Kesil clarifies.
“Sort of, I guess. But this one is THE original, it holds the supernatural power of this plane which, from what I gathered from the children in Chazaq, is quite unique.”
Kesil nods, “My uncle said when you’re in possession of the original Book, every desire will be fulfilled, but often with a price you did not foresee.”
Phil gasps, “A price? They only spoke of pure peace, fulfillment, and satisfaction. No strings. I don’t think Roi would have strings attached.” Phil shakes his head in disbelief and bewilderment, even as Kesil retorts with growing aggression.
“Maybe you don’t know Roi,” Kesil’s voice booms the accusation while he continues to walk briskly.
Phil struggles to keep the pace as the boys stare at each other in challenge. Phil has always felt tense around Kesil, like the troubled peer has ulterior motives. Perhaps his true colors are beginning to show. Lesia looks at Chrissi with panic, her eyes pleading her to do something.
“What do you mean ‘pure’ fulfillment?” Chrissi asks in an effort to distract Phil.
His gaze still on Kesil and his tone gruff, Phil responds, “It will only fulfill pure desires. Nothing selfish or violent.” Kesil stops suddenly and faces Phil. Phil does the same. Both hold clinched fists at their sides.
“Looook!” Lesia yelps. She points spastically, “Look! Look! The Book!” At her last word everyone turns in the direction she is pointing. There in a clearing stands a simple stone pedestal and atop it lies the Book, open faced. The Book glows and stands out starkly in the midst of the dark forest. It shines light in a wide radius so the clearing is more visible than anything they have been able to see so far. Grass grows in patches but mostly the ground is covered in damp, dark dirt. It sticks to their shoes. Trees surround the clearing and their roots reach towards the center as if making sloth-like efforts to reach the Book.
The presence Chrissi felt before is even stronger now. She meets eyes with Phil who shivers slightly. There’s no doubt, now. Someone is near.
Nobody moves.
“Can we just grab it?” Chrissi asks skeptically.
“No, it can’t be that easy,” Phil stands next to her, breathing heavy with excitement. “Remember what Nahal said? There are two sides, which means that someone or something probably doesn’t want us to have it. Perhaps that’s the presence, or the thing that has been following us.”
“Seriously?” Lesia throws out her arms in frustration. “Has it escaped your attention that we are the only people in this whole forest? I haven’t even seen any animals. Or bugs! Which is really ideal actually.”
“That’s precisely what concerns me,” says Phil in a strain
ed but calm tone. “It is the perfect state in which to be caught off guard.”
Kesil walks up to the edge of the clearing. When nothing happens the others walk up behind him. He lifts up his boot-clad foot to step inside when a small man bursts out of the nearby foliage.
“Hault!” he yells, holding out his arms and waving them frantically. Chrissi, Phil, and Lesia jump back in alarm. Chrissi screams, the anticipation of the presence she’s felt finally escaping. Lesia is on the ground breathing heavy and crying, mascara running down her cheeks. Phil is several feet back, holding his bag in front of him as a shield. Kesil, however, holds his ground, unwavering and fierce. Phil watches Kesil closely, nervous of whatever reaction he may be planning. “You mustn’t enter this clearing unless you are fully prepared,” the man continues.
“Prepared for what?” Kesil asks in frustration. The man puts his hands on his hips and stands up straighter. He can’t be more than four feet tall. He is plump and almost perfectly round with a ruddy complexion and bushy beard. Chrissi is reminded of her jovial bus driver and cracks a small smile despite the current tension.
“The obstacles!” he says eerily, wiggling his pudgy fingers in the air.
“What-er-who are you?” Lesia asks. Chrissi elbows her in reproof of her rudeness. Although surprising and strange looking, Chrissi doesn’t get the sense that this man means them harm. The man frowns slightly, obviously not surprised.
“My name is Derak. I stationed myself here for the likes of you as a warning! You must know there are obstacles which await those who enter this clearing. And they are not easy!” he shakes his finger at Kesil.
“I’ll go,” Kesil volunteers conqueringly.
“No!” Phil protests, louder than he intended.
Derak rolls his eyes, “Men,” he says to Lesia. She smiles nervously.
“I just mean we should all go,” says Phil. Surely Kesil will not leave them behind, he seems genuinely concerned about Chrissi.
“Fine,” Kesil says, taking a step into the clearing. He silently questions Phil’s motive in coming on the journey in the first place and suspects his desire to meet the king might compromise all of their safety.
All at once Kesil’s foot touches ground in the clearing, Derak disappears with a POOF, and the earth quakes as walls of foliage grow up in the clearing forming a maze. The Book, somewhere in the center, is no longer visible.
“What just happened?” Lesia asks, frightened.
“Obstacles,” Kesil and Phil repeat in unison.
The other three take a cautious step closer to the edge of the clearing, and Kesil.
“Now or never, but let’s go slow,” he suggests. Each one, after another, takes glacial steps inside the newly formed labyrinth.
“I doubt this is the only obstacle,” Phil reasons, touching the mossy wall. “This is too easy, there has to be more.”
“Sh!” Lesia screeches at him. “Do you WANT to JINX us?” Phil freezes and stares at her, mouth agape in shock.
“Lesia,” he says condescendingly, “whatever is going to happen will happen regardless of what I say.” He puts his hands on his hips and laughs. Lesia glares at him and opens her mouth to speak, but Chrissi puts her hand up to hush her.
“Do you hear that?” she whispers. Everyone remains silent.
Suddenly the earth quakes again and a force of wind pushes them a part. The walls change placing barriers between the group, separating everyone into their own section of the maze.
“Phil?” Chrissi yells over her walls. She feels up one wall and tries to put her hand through, but it is solid moss and leaves with thick branches making it impenetrable.
“Yeah! Sounds like I’m still near you!”
Chrissi’s finger tips tingle again. What would happen if she used her curse here on the maze? Maybe all the walls would die and they would be free to grab the Book. She slowly pulls on the fingers of her crimson glove. The heel of her palm slides out. The air feels cool to her clammy hand. Her heart beats wildly in her chest, threatening to tell of her crime.
“Where is everybody? What happened?” Lesia shrieks, bringing Chrissi back to reality.
Her heart stops for a split second. What if her touch does not stop with the maze walls? The decay could travel to the ground and to Phil, or Lesia, or Kesil. Someone could be hurt because of her. No, she decides pulling her glove snugly back over her sweaty, nervous palm. She won’t use her curse.
“Someone help!” Lesia screams in panic.
“What’s wrong?” Chrissi calls out. “What’s happening?” She claws at the walls but she is trapped.
“It’s so dark!” Lesia cries, sobbing. She falls to the ground and huddles in a corner of her foliage prison. “I’m so scared.” Chrissi feels a twinge of sympathy for the girl; Lesia is never alone.
“We’re close!” Kesil reassures her from a bit further away.
“It’s getting darker!” Lesia yells. She pulls her knees up and buries her face in her arms. “This isn’t happening. It isn’t happening. Just a dream. I’m just dreaming!”
Phil looks around his square, “Lesia, my square isn’t dark. Yours is dark?” he clarifies.
“And getting darker! It’s so cold. I’m alone! Your voice is fading,” she yells into her arms, wet from her many tears.
“Lesia!” Phil calls out louder. “I think it is a trick. The presence Chrissi talked about, I think it is here. I feel it stronger now. It separated us to attack us like this! In the stories from the Book my aunt tells, something like this can happen on our plane, except…well…different.”
“Dream, it’s a dream, all a dream,” Lesia rocks back and forth crying even harder.
“We’re losing her Phil!” Kesil warns.
“LESIA!” Chrissi yells. “You are not alone! We are right here and we will find you soon!”
“Not alone?” Lesia lifts her head slightly. “So dark, it’s so dark. Cold. So cold.”
“No Lesia, you aren’t alone,” Phil says. “We’re going to get out of this.” He feels for a hole in each of his walls but they feel solid for hedges. He crouches down to examine where the walls grew up from the ground.
“We are all here together,” Kesil calls out, continuing to encourage Lesia with Chrissi.
Phil runs his hand along the bottom of the maze wall where it meets the ground. He crawls around his box trying to find a way out, looking for a clue, anything that will help them escape this. Surely there is something. He begins to feel frantically, back up the wall and in the corners. Panic rises in his chest.
“What if…” he whispers. “What if we’re stuck.” The panic creeps up to this throat and escapes in a small whimper. As the whimper leaves his lips his head begins feeling heavy. He grabs it, preparing for a headache from thinking too hard. But the heaviness travels to his neck, his shoulders, his arms and down his torso. In very little time his whole body feels like led. He is glued to the ground, unable to move, unable to speak. He looks around frantically as the ground around him ripples and transforms from solid dirt to a thick liquid. His shoes are covered in the viscous ground and his leaden body begins sinking with them. He tries to scream for help but all he can manage is, “HHHMMMMMMMMMMPP!”
“Phil? Phil are you OK?” Chrissi yells. “Phil, remember what you told Lesia, whatever is happening is meant to scare you. We can beat this! Fight it! Lesia? Fight it! Hear me?” She wrings her gloved hands together in nervousness. Even if her curse does spread to her peers, is it worse than what is happening to them right now? Is she supposed to use it now? It may be their only hope. “Kesil!” she calls out for distraction. “Are you OK?”
“Yeah! I think I can get out!” he calls back. Kesil finds a very small foothold in one of his walls and attempts to climb. As he grabs a thick branch somewhere above his head, the walls begin to move, closing in on him. “Ach!” he calls out as he loses his foothold and tries to keep from falling. He hangs by one arm just a few feet from the ground, not wanting to lose the little advantage
he has gained.
“Are you still OK?” Chrissi asks, worried.
“Yeah! One second! Hold tight guys!” He kicks the wall as hard as he can forging his own foothold and does the same with his left foot a little higher. He pulls up with his arms and kicks with each foot again, climbing slowly as the walls continue to close in around him. His right hand finally reaches the top of the wall but his muscles ache with fatigue and it is all he can do to pull up. He kicks in one last foothold and pushes with his legs, sending himself flying over the wall into Chrissi’s garden cell.
“Kesil!” she says in surprise, and, some, delight. “You made it! Lesia, Phil, we can cl—” Before she can finish their walls fall back into the ground, as if they were never erected.
Despite the darkness Chrissi and Kesil dart towards Lesia’s sobbing and Phil’s heavy, alleviated breaths.
SMACK!
“Ow!” Phil rubs his head.
“Sorry!” Chrissi says hugging him tightly.
Kesil kneels down to a still huddling Lesia, “We’re OK,” he says quietly, awkwardly.
She looks up hesitantly and sees his face close to hers, “It’s still dark.”
“I know, I think the center is that way,” Kesil points to his left and begins to help Lesia up. “We should move quickly.”
The group reunites and begins walking towards a faint light.
“Is it just me, or does the clearing seem bigger?” Phil asks.
THUMP!
Chrissi falls to the ground.
“What was that?” she looks around perplexed.
“A root!” Phil says. He points at a tree root that slowly goes back into the earth.
Lesia screams as a root surfaces right under her feet. She runs forward near Kesil slightly ahead of them, who has stopped and is now watching, incredulous, as roots begin surfacing and burying themselves again and again. The roots roll towards them, growing higher and higher.
The Reconciling: The Overcome Trilogy Part I Page 9
