by Kade Cook
Gabrian grips her uncle’s fingers, squeezing harder than intended, fueled by anger in the obvious insinuation she caused this—that she is the reason for all the destruction. Well, rightfully, she is, but not in the malicious accusation they are making it out to be. “But I didn’t…”
A rustling, then a knock at the open door interrupts her plea.
“May we enter?” a familiar voice asks, filling her heart with a flicker of hope.
He will know I am telling the truth, he will see it for what it is. Gabrian sits straight up in her bed, releasing Tynan’s hand. “Ethan!” she yells out, half with her mind and half in a voice doused with desperation. “I need your help. I need you to make them see that it wasn’t me, that I was not the cause of all this.” Her heart leaps in her chest, getting stuck in between her ribs as she cries out, “I was set up, someone did this to me.”
Ethan and Orroryn flip each other a startled look then exchange glances with the others in the room. “Easy, Gabrian, slow down…you just went through some major injuries. You need to calm yourself and rest.”
“To Hell with resting, the Covenant wants to blame me for this mess and it wasn’t me. It was those men.”
“The Peace Keepers?” Orroryn sets himself closer to the frantic girl and tries to reason with her. “Gabrian, I hardly think they would…”
“They were trying to kill me!” she screams out, gripping at the blankets around her, straining to be heard.
“What?” they all seem to say at once.
“I read their minds…their intentions were to kill me.” She stops for a moment, trying to remember the words the men used. “They kept saying the abomination must be destroyed, I must be done away with—that he said to get rid of me and that failure wasn’t an option.”
“Oh, Gabrian, dear, you must be confused,” Vaeda hums, her eyes soft and filled with pity. “Why in the Realm would the Peace Keepers be instructed to do such a thing, I…”
“Then read my mind if you think I am lying,” she yells out at them all, upset that they do not believe her. “Ethan, show them, please. I am telling the truth.”
“Gabrian, really, it is not necessary…” Vaeda advances toward her, stretching her hand out as she closes in on Gabrian, seeing her aura bloom all around her in a calico assortment of colours, switching violently in her dismay.
“Not necessary? This is my life, my future, once again being put on trial.”
“Gabrian, please calm down. This is not…” Orroryn orders, his shoulders back with an edge to his stare.
“Do it!” she cries out, frantic to make them hear her, needing them to hear her.
Ethan holds his hand up to silence the chatter so he can speak to her in a calm rational manner. “All right, Gabrian, I will,” he says, his eyes dancing around the room at those attending this private invitation to peer into her recounts of the night. “I believe you, we believe you.”
Her eyes, watery and red from the busted blood vessels flooding her irises, are strained from her pleading. Gabrian draws in a ragged breath, trying to calm herself and settle the images so Ethan see them clearly and understand without a doubt what actually happened.
Ethan dips into her thoughts as Gabrian allows him entry into her nightmare from the beginning. The Coffee Hound enters her images and she expels all the heart ache of the encounter with Shane. He sees her trek through the rain in her despair to the College, and into the Turret building—the images of the boy on the stairs is distorted, but he hurries on to where she accepts Cimmerian’s warm offer. Then the strange whispers in the darkness are heard in cooperation with Theo’s odd arrival, and his frantic warning of the upcoming event.
Ethan watches the pursuit in silence, projecting everything she pushes at him—hungry to show them all she is an innocent, that use of her gifts were in defence and the undoing of the guards was the strike of their own hands, not hers.
Releasing his connection with Gabrian’s mind and unveiling to the group the truth as Gabrian lived it, Ethan sets his body down on the bed beside her, and takes her hand.
“There is something wrong in all this,” Orroryn voices, stepping closer to the others hovering over Gabrian’s bed like a mob attending a wake.
Ethan leaves Gabrian’s side and edges away to stare out the window knowing there was no command for their pursuit from the Covenant of Shadows. Talking to the pane of glass in front of him, his thought of the matter continues out loud, “Within the guard’s thoughts, I found an unnatural presence, a forced idea they blindly followed to their deaths. Someone compelled them to seek her out, to destroy her because of what she is or the idea of what she represents.”
“This, of course, resolves some of the issues that will be addressed tomorrow night, but it still doesn’t explain anything, it only adds to the confusion and makes the decision to hold the meeting resolute.”
“Of course, Lady Vaeda, but it does demand change in the course of action,” Ethan adds, his mind spinning like a top as he scratches the shadowed edge of his chin.
An echo of a voice jolts Gabrian from her present company. She looks away, absorbing what Ethan has uncovered. An unnatural presence, a strange thing to say but it would explain why they—her own people—had acted the way they did.
With the meeting within the Shadows inevitable, she blinks only once then turns to face them. “When is the meeting at the Covenant of Shadows?”
“Tomorrow night, at dusk,” Tynan announces, looking awkward all of a sudden—holding onto something. “I will escort you since…” his words cease. He takes a peek at the large Elder behind him, feeling his angst about the recent upset with his son, and doesn’t want to finish his thoughts. “Well, since you and Sh…”
Gabrian bites at her lip and holds her hand up to save him from having to continue, staring at him with wide knowing eyes as she feels Orroryn’s silent stare on her. “Thank you, Uncle Ty.” Her words release a silent sword to slice through her heart. “Did he come to…?”
“No, Gabe.”
Gabrian only lingers within her self-pity for a fraction of a thought. She does not have time to punish herself—the Covenant will make sure it is done properly.
Her life has become nothing more than a nightmare, one that she cannot wake up from, and she is forced to deal with the monsters within it.
The worst truth in all of this is she may be the biggest monster of all.
52
RUN TO THE HILLS
Having been given a clean bill of health with nothing more than an irritating ache haunting the space in her lower abdomen where the bar had been lodged, Gabrian sits in the silence of her room and thrums her fingers on the back of the novel in time with the sound of the clock—tick-tick-tick on the wall, reminding her that time is running out and the meeting is drawing near. The sound echoes louder and louder through the empty space around her, beginning to pound against her eardrums, making them ache. No longer able to sit idle and await her doom, she jumps out of bed, gets dressed, and trudges down the hallway toward the kitchen in search for her caffeinated elixir, hoping it will work its Magik.
With her cup in hand, she sips back the warm mood-stabilizing liquid, letting it dance on her tongue as she drowns out the rest of the world for a mere moment. But her thoughts will not be still, the strangeness in the words Ethan had used earlier keep catching, grabbing her attention and pulling at her, sending her to a dark and barren ground where the words seem more fitting. She cannot help but wonder if there is more to the place than she understands.
It may have been where Adrinn tried to kill her—the place that haunts her dreams—but it may hold the answers to this riddle, or moreover, he may. Returning to face him is the only way she is going to find out.
But first, she needs to slip away from the eyes of her guardian.
She peers through the patio doors and sees lights in the guest house, Tynan’s abode. Pushing her senses out to see if he is alone, a sigh of relief escapes her lungs when she finds the familiar e
ssence of Ethan and Vaeda within the walls, and hurries her departure.
***
Standing in the dark, Gabrian spots the small opening in the trees that will lead her in. The Derkaz gift she has been given proves to be an asset, at least tonight it does. It allows her to see past the shadows of night’s cloak. So she makes her advance into the hollow, following the sound of the roaring waves in the distance as they crash through the cavern below, in search of answers.
The images charge at her again, just like the last time she was here, flooding her mind with blurry memories and visions of confusing alterations in what took place. The closer she gets to the blackened earth, the more intense they become.
Voices drift in the darkness all around her, setting her nerves on edge, and some of them scream at her, making her fingers tingle, and an itch grows in the middle of the palms. She flips them over to see a trace of violet hovering just above the center of her life line. The fringe of night calls to her but she pushes back with a gentle nudge in her mind, trying to quiet them, and wonders if they are pressing against the boundaries of Erebus—if somehow the link between Earth and the underworld is thinning—and why they are the loudest here as she moves forward.
Her eyes sharpen as the familiar location comes into view, open and daunting, the place that calls to her in her sleep, the place Ethan and Shane continue to insist she stay away from. Gabrian stills herself. The heaviness of it makes her feel uneasy, but she is here, regardless of what the truths of that night are.
She edges herself forward and lowers to the ground, crouching, and gathers earth within her hand, letting it fall, the grains of dirt sifting through her fingers like the sands in an hourglass running out of time. She opens her senses up and releases her aura, readying herself for whatever may join her tonight upon the precipice. It glows in a brilliant show of calico colours—flaring like a borealis—a beacon against the black wall of night that surrounds her. She closes her eyes and inhales.
Something is amiss.
Her eyes rip open to scan the shadows, but her world is dark, making her dizzy. Her night vision is gone along with her balance as the world around her shifts in a loud roar of thunder. Back on her feet, she turns her back to the edge of the cliff. An unnatural sense of fear creeps in and overrides her need for answers. Gabrian rushes forward, running blindly toward the direction of her car, and tries to recall the way out of the woods.
“Gabrian,” a voice whispers close against her ear, the words tickling the edges of her skin.
Her head swerves to the right, in the direction the voice taunted her. The tips of her fingers burn, sparking in the darkness with her distress, and she swats at the air beside her. The surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins has her on high alert, making it hard for her to think straight.
“Gabrian.”
Again, she swings her hand out violently to the left to swat away at the invisible tormentor.
A heckling cackle sounds in the darkness before her, taunting her. Having just about enough of this, and unable to get away, Gabrian grits her teeth, a surge of energy bursting outward in a ring of calico light detonating from her body, aching to find the source of the voice provoking her.
She sees it. A blip in the wave of energy detected—just for a moment as it melds around an upright form—its identity undeniable. It is him. The one she came looking for.
All of the accusations of what he did to her that night floods through her in a wave of panic. Now unsure of what to do or how to feel, she turns, running blind once more—partially by darkness and partially by the rush of anger fogging her sight. The possibility of deceit and the underlying truth of it all makes Gabrian desperate to get away.
The moon peeks through the wall of clouds. A momentary sliver of dim light slips through the heavy cloak of darkness and reveals a break in the trees. She rushes for it—the means of her exit—as fast as she possibly can in the shards of moonlight playing hide-and-seek through the forest. It unveils long enough for Gabrian to shift left, avoiding near impalement in her fevered attempt to escape, but finds herself face to face with the demon himself. A scream escapes her lungs and turns her on her heels, searching for a detour.
There has to be another way out, she dialogues internally, retracing her steps.
“Gabrian,” he says softly, trying to enter her mind.
She feels the pressure of his probing but keeps running, searching—now thick in the tangle of trees that surround her with no end in sight—and pushes herself faster through the brush. She loses her footing on a fallen log and stumbles, hearing a snap as she falls. Burning in her ankle alerts Gabrian to an added strife and trying to stand only causes her limb to burn more fiercely. She knows rest is imperative for it to heal but there is no time. She fights through the pain, a temporary setback, and gets back up despite the growing ache. Glancing over her shoulder, she searches for a glimpse of what she is running from, only to see his mirage glimmering before her. She pinches closed her eyes and thrusts forward, passing through his translucent form. The surface of her skin tingles and causes her to shiver.
“Gabrian, please…” his voice calls out, a hint of sadness dwelling in it, pulling at her heartstrings. “I will not harm you, please stop,” Adrinn says as he reaches out his vaporous hand to reach her.
Gabrian slows her pace. Her instincts immediately yell at her to keep running, but she is not able to ease the longing tugging at her—the need to listen to his plea.
Seeing her pause, Adrinn’s lips twitch. He knows she will eventually stop. He has been inside her mind once before. Her compassion and her undying kindness will trump all other emotions and she will come back, she will listen.
“You know you came here to find something, maybe even someone, perhaps?”
She halts her half-hearted escape plan and stops—the throbbing in her ankle subsides in her pause. Narrowing her eyes, Gabrian’s night vision flickers and makes its return as if on cue. She grips her fingers tight, turning them into fleshy balls of contained angst, warm from the fire held within them, and exhales, peering over her shoulder at her ominous fiend of a friend, her fear replaced with annoyance of his games.
“So, what if I have?”
His face twists into an impish grin and his eyes swirl with delight in a yellowish haze casting an eerie glow against the darkness, and a sliver of dread creeps into her soul. “So, my dear little vampire, found me you have.”
53
HEART TO HEART
Nervous and unsure of what to do, and being this close to her so-called accoster, Gabrian takes a step back, putting some distance between them, and pushes down some of the angst prickling at her skin. The sight of him in his ghostly form unsettles her. She only knew him in his mock-earthly form that Cimmerian had allowed him, not this wispy phantom she sees now.
“It seems like forever since we have spoken,” Adrinn hums, his eyes warming now, no longer bright and glowing in the alarming display they once were. “So, tell me.” He floats around her, leaving a dark smoky trail of aura behind him. “To what do I owe this great pleasure?”
Gabrian stands firm, his circling reminding her of a war-hound herding its prey and readying for an attack. “I came to…” She chokes on the words then finds the reason to go on. Straightening her spine, she narrows her eyes and stares him down as he makes his next pass in front of her. “I came here because I want to know if it was you who ordered those men to attack me.”
His winding journey halts for a moment and a grin surfaces, vaporous hand rubbing at the bottom of his chin, and he snickers out loud at her accusation. “Now why is it that whenever something goes wrong in your pitiful excuse of a Realm, everyone’s eyes turn to me?” He lets out a haughty chuckle then returns to his trek. “I do admit my talents are exceptional, but no, child. It was not me. I am not the greatest evil that dwells within your world.”
His words scratch at the back of her skull. Something about how they sound rings a knowing within her, one that assures he
r it is not he who ordered the assassination. Her eyes dart to the left, pondering her next question, but is interrupted by her host. “So, you are gathering quite the collection of gifts, or so I have heard.” He glances at her and then turns to focus on his nails, holding them out in front of his face, then flips it back over, making the smoky remnants of his fingers wash out in the mist then slowly reappear. “It was quite impressive to see you switch between them with such ease, I especially liked the ending.” He laughs but continues on with his retelling. “I didn’t think you were going to listen, but you did. You did, indeed.”
Gabrian gasps at his open confession, his knowing of how things took place. Her fists ball up as the sting of heat pulses into her own fingers. A violet haze makes its appearance within her palms as her aura shifts, switching around her, and glows in an array of layered colours. “It was you!” she yells out her implication.
“Pardon me?” he says, half surprised at her interruption, and glances at her, eyes narrowed in his humour.
“You were there. You were the voice in my head that told me to do it.” She stares at him, almost pleading with his phantom form. “Did you know if I was going to survive?”
He looks away and refocuses on his nails again, inspecting them more thoroughly. “No, not for certain, but I did have a hunch though.”
“What? You had a hunch.” Gabrian’s eyes swirl in a blue firestorm just beneath the surface and her face flushes across her cheeks in her anger. “Why didn’t you do something? You could have helped me.”
“Oh, I did help, my little youngling,” Adrinn says, redirecting his eyes to fall on her disgruntled face. “I encouraged you to do what was necessary, it was the only way. To be completely honest, I was rather curious about how the whole thing would turn out. I have always believed that one must stand alone sometimes in order to unveil their true path in this world—true potential is faulted when others impede their experiences. And I longed to see what kind of fire ran through your veins.”
