by Helen Savore
“Escalibor? Yes.” Viviane’s hand hovered in the air two feet away as if gripping a phantom pommel. “The breaking sword. Completing it was one of the joys in my long life.”
Moralynn rocked, almost slipping from her perch. “You made it?”
“A long time ago.” Viviane ran her fins along the lip’s outer edge. Apparently, this wasn’t too close; she didn’t appear to be in any discomfort. “A different lifetime.”
She looked up. Moralynn did not just see dark eyes, but rivulets of black running down Viviane’s mottled blue face. “Perhaps there is some similarity between us, Phoenix Sparked.”
Moralynn smiled. But her curiosity ruined the potential moment of camaraderie. “You are a Smith?”
Viviane splayed her arm and finger fins out wide. “As you understand the term, yes, I was once. Now I am a Smith without a forge. I make do, but in different ways.” She inclined herself slightly forward. Not quite a bow, but more than a nod. “I must return to my patrol, but I will not run you out.” She turned away, still speaking. “So long as you do not disrespect this place.”
“Viviane, I promise to give this place all proper honor.” Moralynn placed a hand on the pool she’d originally touched. She felt a brief surge of pressure, and her hand was immersed in fresh water. It was a portal as well, not just a pool. Viviane could clearly interact with the ceiling portals, but not the floor ones.
Where did her prison keep her from?
25
Moralynn swooped to the forest floor, coming to a full halt across the small stream guarding Alexandrea’s retreat.
When Alexandrea was a child, she had believed it an island. A water bed ran around a collection of trees that guarded a small accidental clearing. It only became a stream when water ran high or the air was colder, dryer, dumping the moisture back to the earth. Now Alexandrea had a good stone curved into a lounging chair and several niches for lanterns.
She did not know why Alexandrea sometimes preferred this patch of forest to her study, for she did occasionally find her out here. Still, it was convenient when Moralynn came from the Marrow portal.
Alexandrea jumped, dropping the book she held. “You’re here now?” She sounded angry.
Moralynn sought the customary formality she summoned for Alexandrea. These were not proper attitudes for her apprentice. “I had to address a few concerns along the way.”
“So, you were checking for fae sign?”
“An incident? What? Where?”
“They are getting bolder, Moralynn. I saw them attack someone today. Physically. They beat someone with a lightning rod.”
Moralynn had noticed little change in the Marrow, but then she had not been looking. Unless they had not come through the Earth Marrow.
“Did their target fight back? Did they survive?” Moralynn knew her own imagination had atrophied, and she tried to see how that fight would have been perceived by a blind human; invisible attacks dealing real damage. But then why would the fae bother a human they could merely sidestep? Was this pure mischief? She had not had to deal with such generic malice in a while.
Alexandrea frowned. “Their target? Their target is a person, a living person. But…there’s something else. I think someone else can See.”
Another? And not one that Moralynn had raised? It could not be true. Moralynn tapped Alexandrea’s chin to get a better look at her. “You do not mean normal eyesight, do you?”
“I thought to—” Alexandrea hesitated. “It’s my friend, Jamie. You remember him, from the store?”
She did. “You mean the one that tackled you?”
“Yes, he…” Alexandrea paused again, her eyes losing focus. “Maybe even then. I didn’t realize. That must have been what he was doing! He saw you.”
Moralynn dropped her fingers and walked away, motioning to Alexandrea as she started the trek towards the Estate. She needed the movement to help her mind muddle through this. Her feet kicked at the detritus of the forest, but no inspiration stirred within the needles, nuts, and dirt.
“I know it is a thing you hope for… that I hope for. Someone, anyone else.” She spun to Alexandrea with arms wide. “I was so proud to have you, such a magnificent Druid. It does not always happen. But Alexandrea, you can.”
“No, it is not just that. He saw Adhomai; interacted with him.” Alexandrea gritted her teeth. “I could barely believe it myself. I wasn’t sure yet what to do or say, so I had him promise to not bother you about it. But if you ask Adhomai, he’ll confirm it.”
Moralynn breathed slowly, letting the air circulate through her body, giving her time to think. She didn’t not believe Alexandrea, but could she hope? “If he survived the attack, fought back, what condition is he in now?"
“I panicked.” Alexandrea swung around a tree. “He was attacked by fae! I couldn’t let him remember that. I almost broke my cymbal bracelet knocking him out, if I even managed that. Honestly, I’m not sure what he'll think when he wakes up.” She wrung her hands. “I was more worried about secrets, and I knocked him out before healing him. Though, I do wonder…”
Moralynn waited, but Alexandrea refused to continue. She could see Alexandrea believed this Jamie was someone who could see, but how was that even possible? “I want to meet him next time I return.”
Alexandrea stilled, glancing towards the sky through branch and stubborn leaves. She said nothing, but Moralynn knew that she was displeased. What could it be? Did she wish Moralynn would do something else?
“I need to see him for myself. That will remove all doubt.” Moralynn kept walking, but she allowed Alexandrea the silence to bleed off this concern.
“He won’t understand the severity of the situation, Moralynn. I cannot pull him into this danger. Don’t make me do this.”
Moralynn neared and took Alexandrea’s hands, shaking them gently. “Alexandrea, you told me the fae was beaten. Your friend is already in danger. The fae do not like to be seen. If truly found, they will not leave him alone. We must protect him.” Moralynn paused. “It saddens me to think you would not want to protect a friend.”
Alexandrea’s hair whipped about, but the air disturbed nothing else. “I cannot ruin his life. He has loves, he has friends, he has sports, he has a job.” Alexandrea coughed. “I cannot take that away from him.”
Moralynn did not show it, but she was torn. If this clear-eyed one upset her apprentice so much, a part of her did not want to take him under her wing. But it would be worse to ignore this. It must be the transition that worried Alexandrea. They should move swiftly.
“We do not always get to choose the challenges we face. We must only accept them.”
Jamie sprung awake, his heart racing. His eyes roved around his room as he panted, but he couldn’t figure out why. Nothing was out of place, or no more out of place— than he’d left it. He didn’t have a lot of stuff. Sports equipment, too many medical textbooks. Mostly boxes he hadn’t bothered to unpack since moving.
He caught his breath and forced it to slow.
The shadows outside the window stretched in the wrong direction. It was late afternoon. Where had the day gone?
He swung his legs around to get up and realized he still wore his shin guards. He searched the floor. His football bag wasn’t there.
Jamie bent to stand and his stomach flared in pain. He touched it, but the sensation quickly disappeared.
He lay down. What was he doing before he fell asleep? Just the game. It shouldn’t have been that strenuous, especially not his stomach. Did he wipe out again?
How did the game end?
Jamie closed his eyes and rewound the plays, and part way through caught Drea’s gaze.
Drea. The woods, the kiss, the creature, and the shock.
He’d attacked. And Drea had… rescued him?
How had she interacted with the vision of herself? Did she know something? Or had he imagined her twice?
Jamie jumped up, pushing through his pain, and got ready to leave. He had to know if she was actu
ally down there, because if she was… He sat back down. What did that mean? The things he’s seen, they bothered him. They meant something. But they couldn’t be real, weren’t corporeal. But if Drea could interact with them, too, did it mean they were real? Was he seeing something more than an omen?
He got up again and ran out of his room passing Rhys on the way out.
“Jamie!” He beamed and held out his arms. “So?”
Jamie shoved by in the small stairway. “So what? I’m sorry, I gotta go. Later, Rhys.”
“Already ready for round two?”
Jamie spun on the landing. “What’re you talking about?”
“Oh, don’t pretend Alexandrea wasn’t here.” He winked. “I caught her coming out of your room.”
Jamie let out a breath. She must have brought him home afterward. So she had been there, at the field at the very least. Rhys wasn’t definitive, though. Jamie still had to find her to know for sure.
He held out a hand, ready to respond to Rhys, but he had nothing. His head bobbed as he tried again and again to put the right words in his mouth. “Just, promise me you won’t say anything?”
Rhys shrugged. “What are friends for?”
Jamie rolled his eyes as he grabbed his bike off the hook. “Friends are for lending their cars? Or at least the loaner from the dealership?”
“No can do, some of us have sterling reputations to maintain. Besides, I’ve got plans of my own tonight.” He continued up the stairs. “Say hi to Alexandrea for me.”
Once he climbed the hills out of town it was mostly forested all the way to her home. There wasn’t much to take his attention away from his thoughts.
The surreal scene kept playing out in his mind as he rode. She did something, or something that looked like her did something. He’d imagined her once, he could have imagined her again. That first one, before she turned into a monster, had been so sweet. Had he found a way to influence his phantoms? He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad thing.
Jamie was still torn between which theory he preferred. It must have been a double vision, none of it was real.
Jamie turned into the grounds of Alexandrea’s house and raced down the driveway, making gravel fly.
“She is not here.”
Jamie spun, his bike screeching across the stones.
A tall, pale figure melted out of the woods, with a not-so-unfamiliar face.
“Adam?” he said, but he wasn’t sure. He had looked strange before, but now every feature was elongated. Taller, thinner—inhumanly so—strange pointed ears, his skin not pale, but white, and eyes that were… not.
The chain mail seemed out of place as well.
“Truthfully, I prefer Adam-hi if we are seeing things as they are.” He walked towards Jamie and placed his hand on the handle bar. “You are seeing things, are you not? You see and you know. You know it in your bones now. There is only certainty in your eyes.”
Once Jamie got over the initial surprise, he shook off Adam-hi… whatever. More made-up visions. Adam was acting as a gatekeeper for Drea, just like in a real life. This had to be his mind messing with him still, but if he reached Drea, he’d know for sure.
“Lay off man,” he told Adam. He got off his bike and let it fall before stepping away. He wanted no encumbrances. “I want to speak with Alexandrea.”
“I told you, she is not here right now.”
“I’ll wait, then. I don’t need the company, so please leave me alone. Whatever you are.” Jamie put his hands on his hips. This one only talked, it hadn’t attacked. Maybe it would fizzle away, or maybe he truly was there.
Adam continued to linger. “I am an elf. Although the most perfect of elves, so that may not be a helpful description.”
Jamie flicked his gaze up and down. “If you’re so perfect, then why are you wasting your time bothering me?”
Adam's eyes bulged. “Because I have been waiting for you.” He straightened and stretched his limbs until the country patch echoed with cracking. “I suspect you are my best bet for a workout in this blind land.”
Jamie kicked the bike away, not caring as it skittered over stones. He brought his arms to his side and clenched his fists. He was not going to let these phantoms bully him anymore.
“Oh, you do want this, then? I don’t care what you say you are, you are on my turf, and I do not like the way you look. Your folk have messed me up good, and I need to take it out on someone.”
“Accepted. I will even level the field and remove my foci.”
Jamie shook out his limbs and jumped in place. “Your what?”
“Foci, the source of a Shaper’s control.” Adam took off his belt, then shifted to remove his chain mail. He folded and gathered it, placing it across a fallen tree trunk. But he didn’t stop there; he removed a purple headpiece, an amulet, many rings, and a pair of earrings. He wore a pale smock underneath the chain mail, and against his white skin and without accessories he looked like a ghost. “I will be nigh helpless without these.”
“I want to believe you.” Jamie turned a more critical eye to Adam’s slim physique. “However, coming from you”—he punched into his own hand—“I’m still in trouble, aren’t I?”
Adam paced and licked his lips. “It is your first time. I promise I will be gentle.” He halted. “James, do you not have mundane weapons?”
Now Jamie paused. Weapons? Given how his encounters with these things were changing he should probably get one. “I don’t know how to properly use any. I’d more likely hurt myself.” He shrugged, held his hands out. “Besides, these are the weapon’s God gave me.”
Adam glared.
That did it.
“You know nothing of gods.” Adam pulled his hands into fists and brought his right forward and left back. He uncurled his right and displayed too-sharp nails. “I am ready.”
Jamie jumped forward, or at least he tried. His feet did not find firm footing on the piles of chipped rock. He fell to his right knee and managed to not crash-face first. The huddle he curled into for balance blocked a knee aimed for his head.
He pushed off it, hoping to jump, but his right arm jerked away.
Adam turned Jamie over onto his back.
Jamie stretched against the caught arm but felt compelled to follow it. He wasn't ready to break it to escape the grip.
The moment the tug disappeared he swiveled his arms, intending to push off the ground.
He was wide open, though.
Adam sent a fist into his unprotected face.
Jamie tried to yelp in pain, but opening his mouth gave that fist more material to crush.
The pressure fled, but the pain remained.
Jamie instinctively closed his mouth to grit his teeth, but that only made the mess of his left jaw worse. He opened it wide and began to pant wildly. His eyes searched, looking for the next attack.
“You know, that really wasn’t fair.” Adam loomed above him. “The footing fouled you. Once in motion it was difficult for me not to follow through. If you would like to propose a new location, I agree to wait until you are ready.”
Jamie glared. What was up with this guy? Adam had crushed him in one blow, but expected him to bounce right back? Why wasn’t this reverting to reality? True, this wasn’t as bad as a water-melting fiend or being beaten by a not-Drea; this was only Adam, but it was painful, and it was time for the vision to end.
Adam frowned. “I do not mean to be rude, Jamie… May I call you Jamie?”
Amid the already considerable pain, Jamie fought the turn of the lip that wanted to answer him.
Adam tilted his head. “See, you are supposed to say no. You are not talking. Are you still having trouble with your jaw?” He raised his hands, palms up, and approached.
Jamie continued to follow with his gaze, but made no other movement. He was afraid to try.
Adam leaned in over his face. “It is broken. That must be uncomfortable.”
Jamie gargled and shook his hands, instead of his head.
<
br /> “Why do you not heal it?”
Yes, because it was that simple. He needed someone to help set the jaw in its proper place before he could even think of addressing the pain.
Adam straightened. “Oh, you know, but you do not know. I missed a step. Now, James, I cannot help with that injury, but you can. Do you not realize that about yourself? If you allow me my foci, I could tell you about the potential energy burning within you. A Druid does not last this long without drawing on that power, knowingly or unknowingly. You have done it before. Do it again, now, and faster. Otherwise that will hurt for a good long while. You must do this, and for that I must also apologize. I am not aware of the mundane forms of healing you practice here.”
“Adhomai!” A voice cut through the diminishing light. “Why are you lurking by the—” Drea burst round the bend. “Oh dear gods.” She ran to Jamie.
A wild-haired Alexandrea filled his vision. He hoped it was the real one. He couldn’t help but be pleased by this, so he tried to smile, but pain shot through his ruined face again.
“You did this?” she demanded.
Adam wiggled his hands. “Yes, however, by his express permission. Please, help him first, he will confirm.”
“Jamie?” she leaned in and looked into his eyes.
He closed his, then winced as he gave her a slight nod. He felt her hands, harsher than he thought they would be, cradling his face. With each breath the pain multiplied as bone and tooth rearranged themselves. When he thought he could bear it no longer, his jaw resettled into place.
He opened his eyes.
“Drea,” he said, reaching his hands out to her shoulders. “You fixed my face.”
“It isn’t the first time.” She bowed her head. “Jamie, why were you here with Adhomai?”
Jamie took a deep breath. “There really is an Adam-hi? Are you real, too?” He grabbed her arm, but she only stared at him. “I gave him permission to fight. I just needed to”—he shook his head—“it doesn’t matter. He wasn’t lying. But the reason I came was to see you.”
