“Are you sure? Shouldn’t I wait until we know you’re okay?”
His eyes search mine, concern permeating all of his features.
“I’m sure—I’m okay,” I say, nodding. “I’ll be fast. In and out to get the information I need.”
Blinking wildly, Blake finally nods to himself, letting his hands slide down to my arms. He pauses a moment, tugging his eyebrows in just before he leans forward and places his lips against my cheek.
“Okay, I’ll go make the call. Just—please, be careful. Or better yet—wait for me to come back?”
I shake my head. “I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ve been doing this my whole life.”
Taking a deep breath, he finally nods.
I lean forward, placing my hands alongside his face and pulling him to me. More present and aware this time, I put my own desperate fervor into the kiss. Enjoying the fleshy part of his bottom lip, I tug gently at it with my teeth before parting his mouth and sliding my tongue inside.
He shudders breathlessly but pulls me closer to him and hungrily returns my advances.
I don’t know what it is about him—or why—but for opening my memory, even temporarily, he deserves a kiss and so much more.
Blake groans, his hands sliding to my back as he takes a seat and lifts me onto his lap. My arms wrap around his neck and I press myself into him.
“Get a room, guys. This is a public place,” someone hollers out.
Startled, we both break apart and look around.
A group of three pimply teenage boys stand and gawk from a few feet away. They snicker and point—one with their phone out, no doubt SnapGramming—or whatever the hell it’s called.
My hand flies to my mouth in attempt to keep myself from telling them where to shove it. Instead, absurd giggles erupt from my lips and Blake’s boisterous laugh joins in the chorus.
“Dude, talk about robbing the cradle,” one of the boys says before they all walk out.
Blake snorts, but casts a sideways glance my direction.
I roll my eyes and shake my head.
“Whatever. Ignore them,” I say.
Honestly, they’d probably all be mortified to know they’re right—but not the way they’re thinking now.
The thought makes me laugh again and I climb off of Blakes lap, reaching for his hand to help him to a stand. He reaches for my offering and grabs hold of his flashlight beside him on his way up.
Dizziness tickles at my temples, but I ignore its commands and instead, lean into Blake. He wraps his arms around me and places his cheek against the top of my head.
We both release a strange, blissful sigh of contentment.
“Alright—looks like I have a phone call to make. I’ll be right back, okay?” he says, not actually moving.
Sighing one last time, I nod.
“Okay, I’ll be here.”
Blake leans down, brushing my lips gently before sauntering out. I stand back, watching his perfect ass move in a whole different light—a far dirtier one, for sure.
Shuddering to myself, I pull out my flashlight again and flip it on. I’m gonna have to make this excursion quick—or it’s gonna freak him the hell out.
Clambering over the rocky outcroppings, I follow my inner guidance and cling to the remnants of the vision for where to go. I don’t feel like it’s all that far, but I need to see for myself if the place in my vision was real. If it is, then maybe it will help me unlock more of my memories.
My insides claw at one another, the further away I get—I shouldn’t be doing this. I should have backup, or at the very least, I should have told Blake I was going to check something out. I should have at given him that much. Another part of me is feeling totally guilty I’m searching for my own stuff while there are girls in this cave who need to be saved. Another strange part doesn’t give a rats ass if I’m being a bit selfish—because my God, this is all I’ve ever wanted my whole miserable, multi-millennia existence.
Racing down one rocky tunnel, then another, I’m acutely aware I’m not being cautious enough. I should probably be mentally mapping where I’m going so I can find my way back out—but I feel like I’m being divinely guided somehow. I’m not even afraid of the darkness. Perhaps it’s cellular memory. Whatever it is, I trust it and just go with it, hoping it will be enough to get me back out.
The hunch pays off.
As I turn the final bend, clambering through a small opening barely large enough for my body to squeeze through, my mouth drops open as I shine the flashlight along the rocky surface of the walls.
There, etched into the cavern face is an enormous rendition of the symbol from my vision—the same symbol from Blake’s dreams. In fact, this entire location and everything about it is very reminiscent of his drawings.
Goosebumps flash across my skin and I know there’s so much more to this I have yet to uncover. Blake is somehow intrinsically linked to me—to all of this, but I just don’t quite understand how. How can he be?
Walking up slowly to the wall, I take in the sights and sounds as I try to invoke the memories in my buried past.
What is this symbol for? What was this all about?
Reaching out, my fingertips graze the etchings.
“Hello, Pythia. Have you returned to accept your fate?”
The words are in inside my head and in ancient Greek—yet my mind translates them easily.
I take a step back from the cavern wall, my hand still raised to the level of the symbol. The flashlight trembles in my other hand, making the space feel ominous.
I never thought—never anticipated after all this time coming here to help on this case would lead me to this—to everything I’ve been hunting for. I’m so close to finally having some answers.
My mind strays to Blake and our last exchange…
It’s even led me to a few things I didn’t know I was searching for.
Instantly, guilt tremors through my body. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be worrying about myself or hunting for answers to my own mystery. There’s plenty of time for this later. I should be focused on saving the girls. I should be honest with Blake.
And yet—a few glimpses of insight wouldn’t hurt. Would it? Blake is trying to get Interpol involved, after all. I’m sure the call will take a bit of time to explain things.
There’s time.
Taking a deep breath to instill a sense of calm, I step forward and return my hand to the symbol. Closing my eyes, I let the images and feelings inundate my senses.
No longer seeing things from outside myself, I get a first-hand glimpse at a memory through my own eyes.
I run through these cavern tunnels; uncontrollable sobs heave in my chest and make it feel as though my ribcage may crack apart.
My tunic is splattered in blood and pulls awkwardly at my hips as I try to rush to this place of power—the vortex of Mnemosyne. The space is lit, but in my memory, I can’t tell how—it simply glows in a soft light.
Pulling the dagger from my belt, I raise it to the cavern wall and begin my incantation without a moment’s hesitation. My fingers tighten around the hilt and my knuckles turn white as I etch the symbol into the rock. The blade’s tip digs in, grinding at the stone and casting away debris as if it were wiping away grains of sand. The act begins to charge the air—invoking Mnemosyne’s power. The power to forget—the power to wipe from my mind all of which can no longer be carried.
My hands work quickly—assuredly, despite not being able to see through my raging tears. My heart and body ache—as though I may never be whole again.
How can the universe be so cruel? How can it take him from me? How could she take him from me?
Images of my husband, the man I married upon the approval of Apollo himself, lying limp in my arms—it will not escape my mind. They circle my every thought, my every breath—every uneven thump of my heart.
He was meant to stay by my side for all time. We were going to be together forever. A promise was made to us by the daughters of the
God himself. But now—now all is lost, and I’m left alone for all time.
All because—
We knew the rules—we knew we were breaking the standard Delphic Pythia decrees when we were married under the full moon. But I’m Apollo’s Oracle—and this role of mine—I was meant to be the first to be gifted a soul mate. Our love was meant to ease this burden of everlasting life of servitude and devotion.
He was never meant to die—
Sobbing uncontrollably, I clutch at my side, and fall to my knees. Pebbles from the wall continue to fall, peppering the ground the way rain hits the water. My tears strike the fabric across my thighs, mixing with the blood of my beloved.
I slam the blade into the ground and without hesitation, I begin reciting my incantation.
“Mnemosyne, mighty Goddess of mind and memory, wash away all awareness of Anastasios from my mind, body, and soul. Abolish all traces so not even the smallest of specs may slip past my gifts. Grant me the ability to begin anew and walk through this life oblivious to what I have lost.”
Bending forward, I sink into child’s pose—my head resting on the rubble of the dirty cavern floor. My arms lay outstretched in reverence—in the hopes the Goddess will hear my pleas and take pity on me.
When nothing happens, I repeat the incantation.
Suddenly, the light cast upon the space extinguishes, and for a brief moment, a potent mixture of fear and relief floods my body.
The air fills with a static electricity only a God or Goddess can produce. The scent of jasmine and rose petals permeates my senses and I thrust my hips back, sitting on my feet.
“Daughter of Apollo, your pleas have been heard and a judgment has been made,” the voice of Mnemosyne echoes in my mind. “If erasing all evidence of Anastasios from your awareness is truly your wish, drink from the well of Lethe and all will be forgotten.”
With that, the Goddess’ presence is gone. The dank, earthy smell of the cavern returns, as does the low lighting. As I turn around, a small pedestal raises from the ground. With a few tentative steps, I lean over the edge and look inside. In the center of the stone pedestal, a golden bowl the size of a small shield has filled with water so clear I can see myself in the bottom.
Not wanting to dwell with a second more of this despair, I dunk my hands inside, forming a cup and scooping up as much water as my hands can carry to my lips. Droplets of deep red blood splash back into the bowl, tainting its clarity. Without hesitation, I drink the cool, clear liquid in—trusting it will wash away all the agony and sorrow as it hits the back of my tongue.
When the water enters my stomach, I buckle over, groping at my midsection. Pain courses through my insides, and the impulse to gag threatens to regurgitate the memory-stealing liquid. I crumple down, lying on my side, as I hold on for dear life—not wanting to lose the ability to forget…
My eyes pop open.
Ripped from the vision, I pull my hand back and cast my flashlight to the floor. Even after all of these years, the rubble made by my own hand still lays against the cavern wall—just like it was in my memory. I swear, I can still see the place where I rested my forehead against the ground in prayer to Mnemosyne.
Taking a deep breath, the realization I had a husband lingers with me.
Anastasios.
The name circles my mind, but still holds no significant weight. Not really.
Yet, the unfurling of its significance takes hold and my stomach clenches. Flashes of insight flutter behind my eyelids and I begin to realize the far-reaching extent this decision has taken form.
My lower lip tucks under my teeth as I close my eyes and witness Anastasios’ soul lifted from his body—then I follow it through the ages. Lifetimes morph before my eyes as I become a spectator to the myriad ways he’s walked this earthly plane since the moment we parted. I never even considered—never in my wildest dreams foresaw he would be reincarnated and find his way back to me. No wonder reincarnation has been another blank spot for me—it was still a part of him.
All these years, I could have had him by my side, even if it meant finding him anew every time he died.
Tears well in my eyes and my heart begins to crack under the significance of this revelation.
I’m given the smallest glimpse of what could have been—of perhaps what could still be as a face flashes through my mind.
Blake—
It’s no wonder we’re connected. No wonder his dreams are eerily similar to my visions.
He’s Anastasios’ latest incarnation.
Stepping back in a daze, I blink wildly at the epiphany.
My God—how could I have been so stupid? The blind spots in my past—my inability to form attachments—the inability to see or read Blake—it was all me. I’m the cause of it all.
I deliberately blocked everything about him, so I wouldn’t have to go through eternity feeling his loss. And all I did was keep myself from ever finding him again.
How idiotic.
I’m no better than all those lovesick women and men who’ve been coming to my shop all these years. I’ve been healing their wounds and answering their questions—and all the while judging them for being so attached in the first place.
I place my hands over my face and take a deep breath.
“A choice befalls you, Pythia,” a voice rings out in my head. The Ancient Greek is eloquent and rings with the majesty of godly energy. Jasmine and rose tickle my senses. Mnemosyne has returned. “Choose now to relinquish the entirety of your gifts and you shall walk through the remainder of your days, a mortal—having forgotten who and what you truly are. You will be free to live and love. Or choose to further unlock your mind so you may keep your gifts and see things more clearly than ever before. By drinking from the well of Mnemosyne, all memories, awareness, and reach will flood back into your being. All broken memories and boundaries will crumble. With this choice, however, you must accept your immortality as you fulfill your higher calling to the aid of Apollo.”
My eyes widen.
Gain more potentially painful memories in order to keep my immortality and gifts? Or go about my life as a mortal and forget I ever had them? What kind of choice is that?
Taking a deep breath, the realization of what this could mean washes over me.
I can finally be free—free to live my life the way everyone else does. I can finally live and die. I could love without restraint. No more unbidden flashes of insights, or knowledge I shouldn’t have. My head can finally be as silent as it is when I’m with Blake.
My head swirls with the heaviness of this choice—and yet, an immense weight feels lifted from my shoulders in anticipation of my answer.
Of course, I’m going to choose to relinquish my gifts so I can be with Blake and live a mortal life.
After all these years, it’s an absolute no-brainer.
Chapter 17
STANDING UP, I take a deep breath and take a final glance around the dimly lit space. I need some time to think and get a grip on everything I just learned. Shaking my head, I leave the sacred vortex. I set aside the partially unlocked memories and the realization of what I’m about to do. I’ve lived a long time. Decisions like this shouldn’t be made lightly, as there can be far-reaching consequences, obviously—besides, there are more pressing concerns. Like getting back to Blake before he realizes I’m missing and freaks right out.
My heart trips over itself.
For the first time in my life, I would be free to love. Free to embrace a relationship and not fear the impending conversations. Of having to leave before they realize I don’t age. Or staying with them and watching them grow old and die. Pretending to be a daughter, a granddaughter, neighbor, or friend just so I can continue to be near them.
Blake and I could have a real, normal chance at something, if that’s where this is all leading. And how could it not? He's my soul mate, after all.
My footsteps are light as they carry me purposefully through the tunnels. With my new memories, I don’t have to rememb
er the way I’d come—my body instinctively knows and does the work for me.
It takes less than ten minutes to return to the place I’d left Blake, but the closer I get, the more concern creeps over me.
How long have I been gone? Has he come back for me already and wondered where I am?
Glancing down at my watch, I realize it’s been nearly forty-five minutes since I parted with him.
Much, much too long.
Running the last leg of the journey, I come to a screeching halt when I get to the location and it's completely empty.
“Blake?” I call out. My voice cracks slightly. “Are you here?”
The echo of my words against the cavern walls is my initial response.
“I can be Blake for you, darlin’,” a man says, leaning casually against the cavern opening. His ruffled up plaid shirt splays open, drawing the eye to a stained wife-beater beneath.
Shuddering, I ignore him completely and walk out into the main opening of the Korykion Cave.
There aren’t as many people mulling about as there were earlier. My eyes scan from crowd to crowd, searching for his dark hair or perfect ass—anything to guide me to him. There are still enough people standing around that it takes me a few moments to verify Blake isn’t amongst them.
Racing out into the lower hanging sunlight, I draw my hand to my forehead and scan the surroundings.
What do I tell him what I’ve learned? Do I freak him the hell out with my revelations? Or do I wait until we're more comfortable with one another?
God, he's gotta be so pissed I left without telling him where I was going.
But wow, I'd say it was worth it.
Craning my head around, I shield my eyes from the setting sun and survey the area for any sign of Blake.
But he isn’t here, either.
He’s literally nowhere in sight—and I know without a doubt, this is not like him. Even if he thought I was missing, he would have started with local authorities and made sure he was standing nearby in case I still met up. He wouldn’t just leave.
The Chronicles of the 8th Dimension - Limited Edition Box Set (4 Books): A Supernatural Thriller Box Set Page 22