by Indie Gantz
“Neva.” Kor’s voice rips through the room, quiet and controlled. Neva turns her attention to him, her face still just as blank. “While it’s always fun to witness your verbal eviscerations, I think we have other things to discuss. Do you have formal charges to bring against Scoria?”
Neva stares at Kor for a moment, her eyes moving around his face as if she’s cataloguing every centimeter. After a long and uncomfortable silence, she pushes off against the wall and strides father into the room.
“No. No formal charges,” she replies smoothly, then over her shoulder to Scoria, “I’m sure we can come to a personal agreement.”
Scoria suddenly looks a lot less white and a lot more green.
“Good,” Kor replies, his hand out and gesturing towards the empty seat next to Porter. “Will you do us the honor of sitting?”
The corner of Neva’s lip curls up then flattens once more. She pulls out the chair Kor pointed to and sits in it. I can feel her eyes on me before I even look. Her gaze is weighted, full of something new and obscure.
“Are you going to introduce your... offspring?” Neva asks.
“You’ve met Avias and Bo,” Kor replies, gesturing towards his children. “Although it’s been several years since you’ve seen them.”
Bo shifts awkwardly in her seat. I can’t see Avias behind me, but I can assume he’s as equally uncomfortable.
“Yes, those two I know,” Neva responds thickly, rolling her eyes. “You’ve gone and sprouted four more.”
“This is Charlie and her brother Tirigan. They are Calla Eléftheros’ children.”
Porter’s eyebrows shoot up, the first sign of any real emotion from the man. “Calla’s? I could have sworn—”
Kor cuts him off and continues our introduction, not giving me enough time to process my mother’s true surname.
“And this is Oleander and Calor, friends of the family. Calor’s betrothed, Celosia, is there.” He points to the girl who hasn’t said a word since Ren left her with us. “Although they’ll be requiring a diazýgio ceremony if you’d be so kind as to provide one.” Porter snickers across the table, but nods in agreement. Kor sighs and leans back in his chair, ruffling up his hair with both hands before placing them behind his head. “We’ve come because we need information. You say you have some.”
The room is silent for a moment. Kor and Porter seem to have some sort of conversation with their eyes while the rest of us just wait for someone to speak up.
Of course, it’s Neva who breaks the silence. I’m beginning to think she’s rather fond of the sound of her own voice.
“Tell me, Kor,” Neva says blandly, “Did you lose your sensibilities along with your courage? Or is your stupidity a product of your domestic agenda?”
“Excuse me?” Avias’ voice breaks in. The entire room seems to shift towards him, including Neva’s scalding gaze. “I don’t care what your issues with my father are, you’re entirely out of line.”
I don’t know how to prepare, but I feel like I should be ready to defend Avias. Surprisingly though, Avias’ statement earns him a glimmer of a smile before Neva turns her attention back to Kor.
“Your son’s braver than you are.” Then, as if remembering a crucial detail, Neva clicks her tongue. “Oh, but that’s right. He isn’t really your son.”
“Are you done?” Kor replies flatly.
“Haven’t even started yet,” Neva replies, eyes cold and unwavering. “But, I do have better things to do than tell you all the ways you have failed in life. So, you have questions for us?”
Her chilly disposition is miles away from the sinister playfulness I witnessed in the hallway. Not being able to tell who this woman really is makes me uncomfortable, especially because I know what she’s capable of.
When I turn my attention back to Kor, I’m surprised to find him looking back at Neva with a certain amount of fondness. He cares for her. It’s blatantly obvious in the way he’s looking at her. Whether that admiration was earned years ago or not, on some level he still feels something for her. It could mean that Neva wasn’t always this way, or it could mean that Kor finds something in her worthy of his affection.
“I’d like the room cleared before I talk to you,” Kor responds, eyes pulling away from Neva and roaming over the other people in the room.
Porter cocks an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. With a simple gesture, the rest of the people in the room quickly exit. Scoria practically runs out the door.
“Calla’s missing,” Kor informs them once we’re alone with Porter and Neva. “She was taken from her home near Pacoa, and her children would like help in finding her.”
“Where’s their father?” Porter asks, looking between Tirigan and I.
“Dead,” Tirigan replies from behind me. It’s the first time he’s spoken in this room.
“When did this happen?” Porter looks at me to answer.
“His death or our mother’s abduction?” I ask.
“Both,” Neva answers for him.
“Our father died earlier this year. Our mother was taken about three months ago.”
“Did you see who took her? Or do you have any idea why anyone would want her?” Porter asks, just barely interested in the proceedings.
I don’t know how to answer his question, so I just shake my head.
“They didn’t see it happen,” Kor explains for me. “Although, I think it’s possible it was the High Coven, considering their situation.”
“And what situation is that?” Neva asks, her eyes locked with mine.
“A private one,” I reply instantly, purposely leaving my arms uncrossed despite the reflex to protect myself. I don’t want to show any sign of vulnerability. In response, she gives a small look of surprise, so subtle it’s gone with her next blink. Still, it pleases me.
“And what were you hoping we could do for you? Put her face on some milk cartons?” Porter asks with a smirk. “If there’s information that we should know to help us find Calla, we should have it.”
“You’ll be given more information as the need arises,” Kor replies calmly.
“Why are you helping them?” Neva asks after several moments where no one says anything, and everyone looks uncomfortable except Kor, Porter, and Neva.
“Calla asked me to,” Kor answers simply.
“Was that before or after she was abducted?” Neva challenges.
Kor doesn’t answer, and neither do the rest of us. If we want these people to help us, we’re going to have to give them as close to the truth as possible without putting me and Tirigan in danger.
“I asked you a question,” Neva says, impatiently.
“And I ignored it,” Kor replies shrewdly, a smile on his face. “Keep up.”
Porter, watching their exchange and deciding it isn’t as interesting as he hoped it would be, sighs and places his hands on the table in front of him. “Just like old times. Neva puts in a good flogging, and your charm diverts her.”
“Are you going to help us or not?” Avias butts in, his tone forceful and commanding. He steps closer to the table and places his hands on the back of Kor’s chair. Oleander reaches out and places one of his rather large hands over Avias’ and shakes his head. I had almost forgotten he was here.
I can tell by the state of his mind that Oleander’s silence isn’t a product of fear or nerves, but of contemplation. When he speaks, his voice is just as calm and peaceful. It brings a proud smile to my lips. My hand slips to his knee under the table.
“I understand that you lot know a good bit about missing Téssera. Perhaps if you start with telling us what you know about that, we can decide if it’s important to us and our cause.”
If looks could hang, draw, and quarter, Oleander would be in several pieces beside me. The scathing glare Neva sends him makes me want to jump over the table to get to her.
“We’re not in the business of helping children find their mommies,” Neva replies coldly.
“Neva,” Porter admonishes, his voice
more commanding than I’ve heard thus far. Neva doesn’t look like she’s heard him, but she doesn’t continue her assault.
Porter’s eyes fall to Kor. “We’ll tell you what we know, but you have to agree to something first.” Kor gestures for him to continue. “After we help you find Calla, you’ll come back here and stay with us for awhile. We could really use you right now.”
“Fine,” Kor agrees without hesitation.
The quick development between the brothers seems to surprise Neva. Her enigmatic expression gives just the slightest hint of being caught off guard.
“Something the matter, Neva?” Kor asks, his hand covering Bo’s when she looks distressed over the news.
“No,” Neva replies carefully, her features inscrutable once more. Her eyes slide back to mine and stare. I find myself fascinated with what she might find.
When she speaks again, it takes me a moment to realize what she’s said.
“You look like her.”
“Like Calla?” I ask cautiously. “How would you know?”
Neva says nothing, leaving me to wonder. She turns her attention back to Kor.
“It’s remarkable what your heart convinces your mind to forget.” Her statement is practically sung as she rises from the table.
“I was under the impression you no longer had one of those,” Porter replies, his tone teasing but his words probably incredibly accurate.
“Your impressions are rarely of any use, brother.”
With that, Neva turns around and walks out of the room.
“Is she always like that?” Oleander asks mildly, looking to Kor for an answer.
“Yes,” Kor responds with a nod.
“Your sister,” Tirigan states, his tone questioning despite the apparent truth of his words.
“You caught that, did you?” Porter looks down at his nails, inspecting apathetically yet again.
“She’s insane,” I blurt, looking between the brothers of the woman in question. I start to backtrack, realizing how harsh I must sound, but Kor just nods.
“Also true,” Kor agrees.
“How is she your sister?”
“Have you yet to learn your reproductive biology, stray?” Porter asks me, still looking down in disinterest.
“I mean,” I growl, irritated with Porter nearly as much as Neva. “She’s clearly troubled.”
“Yes,” Kor repeats once more.
Porter raises his eyes to his brother. “People in glass houses, brother.” He looks up to the ceiling and squints at it. “Something about throwing rocks... There’s also one about a tea pot and its color...”
Kor ignores him and sits forward in his chair, eyes on me. He folds his hands together and rests them on the table.
“Neva suffers from various psychological disorders. She’s viciously Machiavellian and incredibly perceptive, perhaps even more than you, Tirigan.” I look behind myself to my brother, who looks fully engaged and not nearly as nervous as I feel. “Neva can be anyone. She’s incredibly dangerous and extremely unpredictable. She has a very...” He pauses and seems to debate his next choice of words. “… Interesting moral code, but she is in possession of one. She could be a very strong ally for us.” Kor stops again and shares a look with his brother. After a moment, he nods and turns back to look at me and Tirigan. “She and Porter are our best hope at finding Calla.”
“And if she kills us in the process?” I spit back, sharing an equally appalled look with Avias.
Kor chuckles softly and shrugs. “She grows on you.”
“Well, if that’s all,” Porter says with a disinterested sigh. “I have things to attend to. I’ll have someone show you to your quarters.” He stands and starts heading for the door, but then turns back towards us, still wearing the bored expression I have come to expect of him. “Welcome to the Dynami faction.”
Epilogue
SALVAGE: BOOK III OF THE AKASHA SERIES
In the Not So Distant Future…
The room is cold.
Much colder than any room should ever be. Then again, I am cold. There’s nothing inside me but darkness, and it freezes me.
The stark, silver-tinted room is too bright, but I refuse to close my eyes. They’ve told me to wait. So, I’m waiting.
Whoever walks through that door won’t be ready for what they find. I’m a shell of my former self. Nothing they could tell me will change that.
I hear voices outside the door. A man, a woman, another man. The door handle rattles as it contemplates turning, but I keep my eyes on the mirror I know someone is watching me behind.
I don’t blink. I can’t remember the last time I did.
The door pushes open slowly, but still, I don’t look. Someone enters the room. A woman. Even out of the corner of my eye, I can tell it’s a woman. The way her body is shaped and the way it moves… It’s familiar.
I swallow back something acrid.
“Charlie,” the woman whispers.
My heart may have stopped beating. I can’t be sure. The room is suddenly spinning. I can’t feel anything at all, aside from the sweeping sensation in my stomach that makes me feel like I might throw up.
I don’t look at the woman. I’m not ready to be disappointed. I’m not ready for my mind to prove to be the cruel traitor it must be.
She moves closer, standing just beside the table. Still I don’t look. “Charlie, please. Look at me.”
If it’s a trick, it’s the best and worst one in existence. If it’s a trick, I’d rather go on pretending it’s true.
I close my eyes. I shut them so tightly, my face must shake with the effort. I hear the woman move. I feel her move beside me. There’s a hand on my cheek now, and I feel my heart beating again. It’s out of rhythm, shattering to pieces. Another hand pushes my face so it’s looking in the direction of the woman. Her hands are warm, like fire on what feels like dead flesh.
“Charlie, sweetheart, open your eyes.”
My mind can’t be that accurate. It can’t be that cruel.
I suck in a strained, ragged breath and open my eyes.
The only thing I’m sure I recognize before I black out is the green of her eyes.
Acknowledgements
As always, I must thank those closest to me for their encouragement and support through this adventure.
To my family and friends, I love you, and I am forever grateful that you willingly put up with my bullshit. Some of you are required by law, but that doesn’t discount your sacrifice.
To my editor, Hannah, at Between the Lines Editorial, your commitment to getting my word count down and my use of contractions up is truly awe-inspiring. I could not couldn’t have done this without you.
A special thank you to Carl at Extended Imagery, as well. You were able to take the random ramblings of an overwhelmed writer and turn it into a beautiful book cover.
About the Author
Indie Gantz grew up in Northern Virginia and received her Psychology degree at George Mason University. Despite her passion and curiosity for the human mind, Indie left her chosen field of study to finally give voice to the many imagined minds she has created.
Indie has lived with Charlie and Tirigan in her head for quite some time. After a licensed professional assured her this was normal for writers, Indie hasn’t stopped listening to the Damuzi twins.
Indie lives with her family in North Carolina. She spends her days drinking tea and clacking keys.
Coming 2020
Salvage: Book III of The Akasha Series
As the Damuzi twins are forced to join the Dynami faction, secrets and lies that surround Calla are viciously revealed, and Charlie and Tirigan aren't prepared to deal with the fallout.
◆◆◆
In Salvage, the third installment of The Akasha Series, Charlie and Tirigan, along with their new friends, are confronted with mysteries both inside and outside of the Dynami faction’s compound.
Kidnapped Téssera, vanishing towns, the murder of one of their own, and Calla’
s ever-present absence… It’s enough to overwhelm Charlie even if her reoccurring nightmare wasn’t trying to burn her alive every night. And then there’s Neva, the sinister thorn in Charlie’s side. Can they put aside their differences to work together? Charlie doubts it.
As for Tirigan, his focus is still on Calla and bringing his family back together. However, with a little push, Tirigan starts to realize he can’t ignore his feelings forever, eventually coming to the conclusion that something must be done about them.
Enemies & Lovers. Truth & Consequences.
The Damuzi twin’s story continues.
Captive: An Akasha Series Character Profile
Challenge your perceptions, beliefs, and everything you think you know about The Akasha Series thus far, through the eyes of Finn.
A quirky train station employee?
Think again.
Coming Fall 2019