by Kade Cook
Hearing the Elders begin to grumble about his absence, Ethan slowly stands up and looks in the direction of the head table. “I have to get back. The other Elders and I still have a couple of matters to attend to.”
From the opening of the corridor behind them emerges Jarrison from the Shadows, still emanating his larger-than-life presence that fills the empty space around him. Ethan and Gabrian both turn to greet him on his arrival. “Your dad is here to take you back.”
“Are you ready to go?” Jarrison asks her, wearing a smile that has warmed her heart her entire life. Even though her father is trained to hunt down what she and Ethan are both connected to, Gabrian sees nothing but admiration for Ethan in his mind and nothing but love for her. It saddens her a bit knowing that he is not her true father, but she realizes that blood is only blood—it is powerless against love.
“Listen,” Ethan says, halting his leave to stand in front of Gabrian and his friend. “Take tomorrow off and go do something fun,” he suggests to Gabrian, patting her on the shoulder. “I promised you a day off and a promise is a promise. I am quite certain that you can find something else to do that is...well, not this.” Ethan opens his arms in a wide arc to emphasize the size of the misery of the eventful evening she has just endured.
Recapping tonight’s events in her head, she gets up from the ledge and tucks her right hand behind her head, yawning from exhaustion. “I could try Ethan but tonight’s fun is going to be pretty hard to top!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Friends and Kryptonite
GABRIAN WAKES TO the sound of the phone ringing, already knowing who is on the other end of the receiver. Not ready to move yet, she pulls the covers up over her eyes to shut out the light streaming in through her bedroom window. She hears her mother’s footsteps lightly tap against each wooden step as she makes her way up the stairs and heads in her direction. Then silence.
From under the blankets, she feels her mother staring at her from the doorway. The scent of coffee wafting from the cup in her mother’s hand somehow bores its way through the protective layer of cloth that lies between her and the outside world. “Damn kryptonite!” she whispers. “I can hear you breathing by the door,” she mumbles to her mother, still buried under the blankets.
Sarapheane laughs and enters her room, quietly marching to the bed, and sits down on the side of it. Taking a sip of the coffee, she pulls down the blankets that cover Gabrian’s head.
Shielding her eyes from the light with her arms, Gabrian grumbles and blinks wildly, trying to adjust to the sudden assault on her retinas. Finally able to see, Gabrian pushes herself up and leans back on her pillows. Sarapheane holds out the coffee in front of her, and she kindly accepts it, sipping it immediately.
“Did you hear the phone ring?” Sarapheane asks.
“Yes, I heard it.”
“That was Rachael calling again,” her mother informs. “You know you should really call her back.”
“I know,” Gabrian says quietly, biting the edge of her lip while pulling the covers snug under her arms.
“She is just concerned about you,” Sarapheane says, raising her brow and tilting her head to the side.
“I know,” she says a little louder, raising her eyes to glare at her mother’s guilt invoking stare.
“And she is your best friend.” Sarapheane, still giving her daughter doe-eyes, reaches down and taps Gabrian lightly on the nose, catching her attention.
“Okay, I know. I get it,” Gabrian blurts out, sitting straight up, grabbing the stray pillow from beside her and wrestling it into a sleeper hold across her chest as she exhales loudly. “I just haven’t felt like talking to anyone about anything. I don’t even know if I know what is going on yet. How am I supposed to explain it to someone else?”
“It might do you some good to talk to her, even if it is just as a sounding board.” Sarapheane raises her hand, letting it softly brush along the side of Gabrian’s hair and her eyes pinch at the edges with her smile. She wants Gabrian to understand she does not have to give up the person she is to be the person that she has become. “She is from the Realm, Gabe, she understands.”
Gabrian ponders this notion and begins to warm up to the idea. The straight line across her lips relaxes and lifts upward. Her eyes glisten as the torrent of built up emotion breaks its silence, blurring her view—a glimpse of happiness for the first time in weeks—and she realizes that maybe her mother is right. Rachael has always had a way of making things more tolerable.
“Fine, you win. I will call her after I have my coffee,” she announces, conceding to her mother’s wishes. She quiets as a question enters her thoughts—one of which the Elders had insinuated about her the night before in the Covenant of Shadows. “Did you and Dad know what I was before this?” Gabrian’s eyes moisten as she looks to Sarapheane for the answer.
Her mother looks at her, unable to hide the hurt in her eyes, but she understands why Gabrian would ask this. The Covenant has a way of making one feel guilty, even if you are innocent. “No, Gabrian. We only knew that you were born of the last surviving Silver Mage to the Realm and that your birth mother, our friend Cera, had cloaked you with a protection spell. When you grew up without developing any signs of having a gift, we decided not to mention the Realm. There was no need to add more chaos in a world already full of it.” Sarapheane looks at Gabrian with soft, dampened green eyes. Her full pink stained lips tremble with sadness. “I am so sorry if you think we have wronged you by keeping the truth from you.”
Gabrian searches for any thoughts her mother might have that would suggest otherwise. There were no signs of deception in her mother’s mind which gave Gabrian relief. She did not think that she could handle it right now if one of the only people she trusts in this world could not be trusted.
Setting her coffee down on the nightstand beside her, Gabrian reaches out and hugs her mom tightly—sorry, if she has somehow hurt her mother’s feelings.
“Forget that I asked. It doesn’t matter, Mom.” She whimpers, pulling her mother in closer, afraid to let go. “It does not matter,” she whispers.
***
PHONE RINGS.
“Hello?”
“Hi.”
“Oh, my word! Gabrian!” Rachael screams into the receiver, almost deafening her.
“You can stop yelling now. I am not going to hang up or anything, I promise.” She pulls the phone away from her ear and waits for Rachael to calm down.
“Sorry,” she squeaks. “I just have not heard your voice in so long and the way things were the last time we talked...I didn’t think you were ever going to talk to me again.”
Gabrian can hear Rachael pace as she talks. Rachael always has to move around when she is excited or gets worked up over something. Gabrian grins and shakes her head, laughing at her friend’s predictability. “Yeah, well...I have been a little busy learning how to use all my super powers for good and not for evil.”
Rachael laughs out loud and hopes that Gabrian is really okay. Not wanting to pry too much into the truth, Rachael keeps the conversation vague. “So how are things going? I hear you are working with Ethan.”
“How did you know I was working with Ethan?” Gabrian’s eyes jar open, and she pulls the phone away briefly, staring at it—pursing her lips in a crooked twist while pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Mr. Redmond...I mean Orroryn was by and told me not to worry about you,” Rachael tells her. “He said that you were working with Ethan and making a lot of progress.”
“He did, did he?” Gabrian grumbles and immediately sits up on her bed, uncomfortable with the fact that everyone seems to know her business. “Nice to know that the Realm’s Grape Vine is in good working order.”
“No...it is not quite that bad,” Rachael assures her friend. “We are a tight knit community at times and look out for our own—those that have certain importance to us. Other than that, I don’t really pay much attention to anything that does not concern me unless it is adv
ised by my Elder.”
“That is probably best,” Gabrian groans, thinking of all the nonsense she has dealt with.
“Anyway, enough about all that. When are you coming back?”
Eager to get back to her old normal life but frightened by the fact that her life may never be normal again, she sighs. “In about two weeks. Ethan has to get back to his life, and so do I.”
“That sounds good. I will have everything ready for you when you get back.” Rachael tries to assure Gabrian that everything will be fine. She does not want to give her anymore reasons to stress out; she has enough to deal with on her plate.
“I heard that, you know,” Gabrian playfully snaps out. “There is no need to tiptoe around trying not to ‘stress me out.’ I will be fine once I can get back to what I know.”
“Of course you will. But…” Rachael hesitates for a moment.
“But, what?”
“But now I am going to have to find a way to keep my thoughts to myself or else you are gonna think I am crazy.”
Gabrian bursts out laughing, feeling a mountain of weight lift from her shoulders. She is so glad that she decided to pick up the phone. “I already know you are crazy. Why else do you think I keep you around?”
“You know being a Borrower does have its advantages,” Rachael toys, her words rolling over her tongue sultry and smooth, filled with impish suggestion.
“Oh, really,” Gabrian scoffs at her in a slow, high pitched tone, raising her brow and rolling her eyes at her friend on the other end of the phone. “And what would those be?”
“Well, think of it this way,” Rachael begins, “you will not have to worry about getting wrinkles or grey hair for a very, very long time.”
Gabrian laughs out loud again. “You fool.”
They talk for a few more minutes about their families, holiday events, and if they have managed to do any shopping—idle chitchat in an attempt to mend the tear in the fence between them.
Eventually, Gabrian hangs up the phone and it dawns on her that she has the whole day to herself. She sits cross-legged on her bed and wonders if she should spend the day with her mom and dad since she has not had much time with them due to all her training.
In the midst of trying to decide on her plans for the day, a flash of the Elders sitting around the large marble table from the night before creeps into her mind. And with that she jumps up off the bed—quickly resolving the dilemma. She is to get out of the house before someone comes looking for her and drags her back into the Shadows again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
New Dancing Shoes
“I WAS BEGINNING to think that you were avoiding me,” Adrinn hisses as he materializes from the dark lifeless ground that resides above Thunder Hole.
Cimmerian turns to face him, fighting back the urge to enclose him within the Darkness that he came from and send him back to Erebus in pieces.
“Ah, ah, ah. That is not very polite now, is it?” Adrinn taunts Cimmerian, tapping his vaporous finger gently against his temple. “And here I thought we were becoming friends. Such a pity.” He lowers his hand and rests it under his chin, giving Cimmerian a distraught sulk.
Cimmerian’s blood begins to boil. “We will never be friends,” Cimmerian fires back at him. “Truth be told, you are only a means to an end.”
“Ah, yes. Your precious Symone,” Adrinn jeers, stretching a fake frown across his lips before he clasps his hands together, pressing them tightly against his chest. “Trapped in Erebus for all of eternity, and I am the only being that can find her, so really you might want to curb your hostilities toward me for the time being.” He snaps, dropping his arms and his pity show. He slowly slithers around and encircles Cimmerian, leaving a haloing trail of dark smoky mist behind him as he does. “It would be a shame if we could not find a way to be civil to each other, now would it not?”
Remembering his reason for dealing with Adrinn, Cimmerian swallows his pride and decides to play along with the game. “Very well, then.”
Adrinn stops his orbit around Cimmerian and glides over the large amethyst-speckled stone, pretending to sit on it. He lowers his eyes to the barren Earth below him. “The girl. Tell me about the girl.” His eyes shoot upward, now harboring a glare that bores into Cimmerian.
Cimmerian tells him everything that had gone on the night before in the Covenant of Shadows meeting. He reveals to Adrinn how he thinks Gabrian is very naive about what she is, still completely ignorant of any real control. He admits she seems to be intelligent but opinionated and easily stirred. Adrinn grins at this as he remembers her as a child. She is so trusting and easily swayed—hoping that those qualities still remain.
He snaps back to the present and dismisses the memory quickly then focuses on Cimmerian. “Loosen the grips of Darkness on me.”
Not believing what he has just heard, Cimmerian gives Adrinn a confused and distrustful look. Any attempt to release Adrinn’s body would take a lot of energy that would undoubtedly be noticed by someone. An inquisition would probably follow about the strange disturbance in the Realm—not something he is prepared to deal with. Besides that, he shudders at the thoughts of the destruction that this abomination of nature could unleash upon the Realm if he did. Within the years of Cimmerian’s life, he has seen much suffering and pain. All he wants now is to pacify this monster long enough to find his daughter and bring her home.
“I cannot.” He lies, hoping his bluff is convincing enough. “This request is not the type of spell that I am capable of. I would need the others to conjure up that kind of Magik.”
“I did not say free me. I said loosen the grips.” He smirks at Cimmerian like he knows something that he is not saying. “I have watched the Gargons pass through to this Realm under the spell of the moon and cloaked in the Darkness of night. They take form and freely walk about, scavenging for the weak. You know the secrets of the Darkness, and I am certain that the binds that tether me to this infernal damnation can be softened.”
Cimmerian hates that this creature of evil sitting in front of him is calling the shots. He can give Adrinn the freedom from Darkness, but he fears that the repercussions of this decision might have a weighty price.
Seeing that Cimmerian struggles with the balance of virtue, Adrinn gives him something to ponder. “If I am to woo the girl and befriend her, I need to become something more than what I am.” Adrinn waves his hand before him to gesture his abundance of creepiness and his lack of actual feet. “I am not a threat to anyone if that is what you are worried about. My physical remains lie buried deep within the ground, held captive within Erebus for all eternity. My gift of borrowing is tightly bound, and I am but a mirage, a vapor. Tell me, what harm can I possibly do?”
Cimmerian presses his fingers against his lips, tapping on them, and begins to pace—ignoring his audience as he debates the balance of this request. He decides that if this helps increase the chances of him getting his daughter back then the request is not unreasonable. The Realm is filled with apparitions from multiple dimensions anyway, and like it or not, Adrinn does have a point. What could one more ghost in the mist hurt?
“Very well then,” Cimmerian concedes, halting his march and staring coldly at the vaporous menace before him as he keeps his emotions intact.
The mist around Adrinn swirls violently in anticipation of release. Cimmerian raises his hands, and his palms begin to glow its dark purplish hue. Fragments of pure energy begin to crackle and spark from within the mist that encircles Adrinn’s form, developing into strings. They begin to unwind and separate, stretching themselves forward and gravitate toward the orbs now levitating above Cimmerian’s hands.
Making fists with both hands, Cimmerian quickly grabs the ends of the fragmented strings and pulls back violently, ripping them free from their attachment to Adrinn. A loud snap echoes like a clap of thunder around them and through the walls of Thunder Hole, the cavern below, as the strings fall to the ground and dissipate into the mist.
Adrinn gazes
down and grins with delight at the sight of his long-awaited appendages that now display beneath him. “Now that is more like it!” he cheers. Humming a strange eerie melody, he moves his feet around to imitate some sort of dance and grabs the edges of his lapel, tugging on them gently.
“So tell me, old boy...how do I look? Do you think she will dance with me?”
Cimmerian rolls his eyes at Adrinn in annoyance. “Do not make me regret this!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Come Here Often
IT IS THE day before Christmas Eve, and Gabrian tells her mom she needs to step out and do some shopping. Struggling again with the new complexity of her world, Gabrian explains to Sarapheane that she needs to do something mundane that makes her feel like a human again—even if it is only for a few moments.
Borrowing her mom’s car, she heads to Ellsworth for the day. Arriving at the strip mall, Gabrian debates her first store. Having forgotten that she does not have the same shopping venues she would normally have in Manhattan, she manages to pick up a few things in the mall. Jumping back into the driver’s seat, she heads a little further down the street and sees an exciting prospect—an L.L. Bean outlet. Loving the new possibilities, she manages to finish the rest of her gift purchasing there.
Now completely shopped out, she glances down at her watch. It is five PM. “No wonder I feel strange,” she mumbles to herself, feeling a drain on her system. “I haven’t eaten anything today.”
Now that she borrows energy, her need for food has waned, but she still craves sustenance, more out of habit than anything. Making her way back up through Ellsworth and heading for home, she sees a coffee express to her right. She puts her signal light on to turn in. Suddenly, the thought of an Enchanted Forest latte overwhelms her taste buds and not able to compromise on this, she switches off the blinker and keeps going—heading for Bar Harbor and to the call of the Coffee Hound.
