Formal dining? The most formal I’ve ever been was when I wore my red polka-dot Christmas dress when I was five.
She had a moment of homesickness when she thought of her mother. Even though they had rarely had intimate moments, she was the only mother Danica had ever known.
There were people sitting at the nearby tables, but Danica didn’t feel like being sociable. She needed to think about everything she had learned—and the things she hadn’t learned—about the hotel and her new friends. She headed in the direction of the lake. The path took her through a thinly wooded area, and in a few minutes, she could see the blue of the water through the trees. When she got to the lake shore, she found a bench overlooking the water, and she sat down and opened her lunch. As she ate the broccoli and cheese soup, she observed a few waterfowl swimming nearby. There was a low float or raft of some kind in the middle of the lake, and as she watched, a man pulled himself up from the water onto the raft. His long black hair hung down his back, and even from a distance, Danica could tell how well muscled he was. The water dripped from his arms as he stood on the edge of the raft. He seemed to be in a deep state of concentration for a short while, and then he dove off the raft, breaking the surface of the calm water.
Great form! She expected to see him surface, but he didn’t. He’s good at holding his breath, she thought, taking a bite of her sandwich. A couple of minutes passed, and she became vaguely agitated. She had a good view of much of the lake and there wasn’t a ripple on it. Even the ducks had moved on. The stillness was absolute. Where is he? He’s got to be out of air!
When five minutes had passed, she found herself standing at the edge of the water, searching, her mind in a panic. She kicked off her sandals and pulled her pant legs up and stepped into the shallows. It was cool, and her motions sent ripples outward. Otherwise, there was nothing to break the stillness of the surface. What should I do? Should I go back to the hotel and tell someone? Should I stay here a little longer and hope he will come up for air? Did I just imagine this whole thing?
She waded in a little deeper and she could see the sandy bottom drop off sharply into murky depths. As she stared into it, a form began to appear beneath the surface, slowly getting closer. She backed up, and as she did, the form materialized in front of her, head and shoulders coming out of the water.
“Jimmu! You scared the crap out of me! How long can you hold your breath? That’s inhuman!”
Jimmu graced her with a rare smile. His black hair glistened, water dripping from the long ends. Muscles rippled on his arms, chest, and legs as he emerged and walked to a low bush where a robe was draped over a branch. He wiped his face with it and put it on and then he walked back to her.
“I don’t hold my breath. I breathe the water and I can stay beneath the surface as long as I want.”
“You can’t breathe water. People can’t do that.”
“I can.”
“But how?”
“It’s Magic!” He looked annoyed at her expression. “How do you read minds? I would like to know. Maybe you can teach me. In fact, I would like to read your mind right now.”
Danica felt herself reddening. She was glad he didn’t know what she was thinking because she was having a hard time forgetting how he looked as he walked out of the water, how his skin gleamed and his long black hair fell across his back, how his muscled chest narrowed into a well-defined abdomen and a trim waist.
“Okay, I get it. It’s your talent, right? It’s why you’re here.” She was irritated with herself and she appeared flustered.
He looked away, and then back at her. “Do you swim?”
“No. I never learned.”
“I will teach you.”
“It’s okay. I’ll pass. Besides, I don’t want to breathe water.”
“You can’t breathe water, but you will learn how to swim. It’s part of your training, and I am your instructor. After your celebration you will have your first lesson.” He walked past her on his way back to the hotel.
“Wait!”
He turned toward her, his dark eyes questioning.
She hesitated and then blurted, “Why didn’t you approve of me coming here?”
He considered her for a moment, and then he said, “You lack confidence. You don’t have faith in your abilities. Instead, you try to hide who you really are.” He watched her face turn a deep red, knowing he had touched a nerve. When he turned to leave, she said, “Wait”.
He turned to her again.
“Why do I have to learn to swim. I don’t want to.”
“What you want doesn’t matter,” he replied gruffly. “You will learn!” And he turned and strode out of sight.
She sat back down on the bench, her half-eaten lunch beside her. She had lost her appetite. He thinks he knows me? He doesn’t know anything about me. And he’s so bossy. If he thinks I’m getting in that lake, he’s got another think coming!
Seven
She made her way back to the hotel and found her room, number seventeen. The afternoon sun was slanting in from the tall windows. Her bed had been made and the pile of clothing she had left on the bathroom floor was gone. Someone’s cleaning up after me. I should feel guilty. She walked up to one of the tall windows and looked down at the garden. There was Shaw on his knees in another flower bed. Again, he seemed to sense her, and he looked up and waved when he saw her. She waved back and smiled.
She went to her nightstand and opened the drawer. She pulled out one of the books she had brought with her: Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations. She opened to a random page and looked at the bottom right and read the quotation from The Teaching for Merikare, c. 2135-2040 B.C.E.:
“Instill the love of you into all the world, for a good character is what is remembered.”
She considered these wise words. Maybe she could be herself here in the Beyond and make some good friends. She would try to be more open to others, and more accepting. With this resolve still on her mind, she crawled up onto the bed and instantly fell asleep. She dreamed of handsome mermen and cities under the sea.
When she awoke it was nearly six o’clock and she sat up in bed. Images of Jimmu flooded her. She felt heat on her face when she remembered his muscled physique.
He’s hot! Too bad he’s so unfriendly. Then she remembered his promise to teach her to swim. I’m sure he thinks this is going to happen. How am I going to get out of this? I’ll have to come up with a plan. There’s no way I want to be in the water with him. Or with anyone for that matter.
She slid down from the bed and padded to the bathroom quickly undressing and putting her clothes into a hamper she hadn’t noticed before. She stood under the hot shower for a long time, reveling in the feeling of the water sluicing over her body. Then she toweled herself dry and went to the wardrobe. When she opened the doors, she gasped at the number of beautiful dresses, all in her size. Remembering what Liam had told her about dressing up for dinner, she selected a short white silk sleeveless dress with dark purple and blue flowers flowing half-way up from the hem of the flirty skirt. As she slipped it on, she felt the luxurious fabric caress her skin. A mandarin collar and a few oriental frog closures adorned the front. She surveyed herself in the mirror. The dress was flattering, accentuating her slim, shapely legs. Her dark hair waved around her shoulders, and she grasped it and did a quick French braid, securing it with a glittering diamond clasp. Blue high-heeled sandals completed the look.
The clock chimed its five-minute warning at 6:55 and she made her way to the door. She was looking forward to dinner since she hadn’t had much to eat all day, and she was hoping to get more information about this community and her role in it. As she stepped into the hall, she half expected to find Liam, but he wasn’t there. Instead, she heard the door next to hers opening, and from room number nineteen, Jimmu appeared. She almost gasped at the sight of him. His black hair was tied into a knot on top of his head, accentuating high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. He wore a dark blue silk kimono tied with a grass green obi a
nd black pants underneath. She quickly recovered and resolved not to let him get under her skin.
“Good evening Jimmu,” she said.
He nodded to her, his eyes taking in her hair, dress, and long legs.
“It’s nice to see you’ve dressed appropriately.”
Immediately she felt her anger rise. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He smiled then, and his face was transformed. Gone was the stern disapproving look, replaced with a softer, handsome demeanor.
“Relax,” he said. “I really don’t bite.”
She felt her breath leave her. Why do I let him get to me?
“You look . . . nice, too. Um, you were complimenting me, right?”
“Come on. Let’s go down,” and he grasped her elbow and led her downstairs to the dining room.
When they walked into the room, Danica was transported to the Victorian era. Candles provided soft lighting to the interior. Exquisite china, sparkling crystal stemware, and gleaming silverware were precisely set on an immaculate white linen tablecloth. In the center was a floral arrangement in hues of blues and greens, offset with clusters of white baby’s breath. Damien and another young man stood against a wall in fitted black jackets and starched white shirts. Jimmu held her chair as she sat down.
I could get used to this.
She looked up and smiled at him, but his attention was on the door as Neith entered. This time Danica gasped aloud at the elegantly attired young woman. She wore a woven dark red and orange caftan tied with a turquoise braided belt. Her abundant hair was held inside an orange turban, drawing attention to her perfectly proportioned features and glowing dark skin. When she noticed Danica and Jimmu staring, she smiled.
“Well, don’t we all look good,” she exclaimed, chuckling.
Jimmu took her hand and led her to her chair. “You look amazing,” he murmured, and Danica had to agree.
The others all came in together. Wilder looked more mannish in a tailored deep maroon three-piece suit. Liam wore a dark dinner jacket over a white shirt. Phil was incomparable in a post-modern silver pantsuit. The jacket was loosely buttoned over bare skin. Sharp collar bones framed a delicate throat. Bell-shaped sleeves ended in points extending over the backs of her hands. The matching pants hugged her hips and then flowed gently down the length of her legs, giving the impression of liquid silver. Elongated red jeweled earrings accentuated her slender neck, and a matching jeweled necklace nestled between her breasts. Her dark hair had been fashioned in an elaborate up-do with random spikes of stiff hair that had been colored a deep crimson red. Black eyebrows were wings over icy-green eyes. Blood red lips curved up, smiling at Danica.
“We enjoy dressing for dinner. You look beautiful, Danica, as do the rest of you.”
Everyone murmured greetings and compliments as they sat at the table. Damien and the other waiter poured wine into crystal glasses. Danica looked discomfited. She had tasted wine but had never imbibed. She hadn’t been invited to the drunken parties some of her classmates attended, and watching her parents over-indulge, she had grown up with an aversion to alcohol.
As if reading her mind, Phil said, “Drink up, Danica, the wine will not affect you here. You can enjoy the taste without suffering the effects of the alcohol.”
“I propose a toast,” Liam said, standing and raising his glass. “To Danica and her last day as sixteen. Tomorrow we will celebrate her birthday, but tonight she is still sweet sixteen.” He looked down at her and smiled.
“To Danica,” they all chorused and raised their glasses.
Danica blushed and lifted her glass, and they all took a drink of the rich red wine. She was pleasantly surprised at the taste and the feel of the liquid in her mouth. It’s good, she thought. She stole a glance at Jimmu and found him staring at her. He didn’t look away and she blushed and dropped her eyes.
Two waitresses came in with trays of salads and Damien and the other waiter distributed them.
“How was your tour?” Wilder asked Danica as she forked a mouthful of the delicately dressed arugula and pear salad. In the mannish attire and her throaty voice, her gender was ambiguous.
“It was good. Liam only got me totally lost a few times.”
Everyone chuckled as they enjoyed the salad. Damien came around refilling the wine glasses, and Danica was surprised to find she had emptied her glass.
“I encourage you to explore the hotel and grounds and get used to the layout. It won’t take you long before you know the place inside and out,” Phil said.
“Except for the cellar,” Danica said as she passed the plate of rolls to Liam.
“Yes. The cellar is off-limits until you are sufficiently trained.”
“Just what is my training going to be?” she asked, stealing a glance at Jimmu, and remembering his promise to teach her to swim.
“You’re probably tired of hearing this, but honestly even we won’t know until your birthday celebration tomorrow. All will be revealed then,” Neith said.
“Including whether you are suitable,” Jimmu added.
“Which we are pretty certain you will be,” Neith said, frowning at Jimmu.
He met her gaze. “She needs to know that nothing is certain.”
Neith sighed. “Yes, nothing is certain.” Her eyes lingered on Danica. “We’ve been observing you. You have many of the characteristics of a true Covert, but we can’t be absolutely sure until tomorrow. Until your birthday and your magic number—seventeen. If you are accepted, your acolyte training will begin. If you aren’t, you will still be trained, but in a different way.”
Damien leaned over her left shoulder and placed a piece of chicken on her plate topped with an aromatic mushroom sauce. The other waiter followed with a serving of sautéed vegetables.
Danica watched the waitresses bringing in desserts and placing them on the sideboard. After tomorrow I might be working next to them. Won’t that be weird!
“What time is my party?” she asked.
“Your party begins at four-oh-nine tomorrow morning, the exact hour and minute of your birth,” Phil said. “Early in the morning there will be attendants in your room, ready to help groom and dress you.”
“Oh, I don’t need any help getting ready. I’ve been doing it for myself all my life,” she laughed.
“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Jimmu said, scowling.
Phil smiled at him. “It’s tradition, Danica. It’s your special Magic Day, and you will be pampered and treated like royalty. Just relax and enjoy it.”
Relax and enjoy people fussing over me? Not happening, she thought glumly, and when she looked at Jimmu, he was glowering at her. I guess I know how to get under his skin, and she smiled sweetly at him. “Tell me again why tomorrow is Magic for me?”
“If you are accepted by The Magic, you will be transformed,” Wilder said.
“Transformed, how?” she asked as she sampled the chicken.
“Think of it this way,” Liam said. “If you are ordinary now, after tomorrow you will be extraordinary. Magical.”
Danica sighed. The answers didn’t give her any real information. “I’m not ordinary now. I’ve never felt ordinary.”
Neith smiled sympathetically. “No, you’re not ordinary or you wouldn’t be here. But after your celebration you will be more extraordinary.”
No one was giving her any useful information. Either they were being purposely vague, or they didn’t know.
Dessert was a decadent chocolate cheesecake. Damien served small cups of espresso with thick cream on top. Danica ate everything and even had a second piece of cheesecake. I better enjoy my last meal, she thought. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I may be mucking stalls or cleaning toilets.
She looked around at the others. I don’t know these ‘Coverts’ and it’s impossible to get into their heads. What have I gotten myself into? She sighed, resigning herself to be patient. I trust Phil and I know that whatever tomorrow brings, I’ll be safe and in a better place than the one I left. Glancing
at Jimmu, she noted that he had folded his arms across his chest and his dark enigmatic eyes looked thoughtful. Maybe if I’m not accepted by The Magic, I won’t have to have swim lessons. The thought made her smile, and she left the dining room with a light heart.
Eight
Before Danica had reached the stairs, she was intercepted by Phil.
“Come to the theater, Danica, I have something to show you.”
She followed Phil to the small theater at the back of the library and sat in one of the cushy seats.
“Are we watching a movie?”
“Sort of. Before your celebration, I want to show you your birth.”
Danica half rose from her seat. “Wait! You have a movie of my birth?”
“Yes, and I think it will answer a lot of questions you have. Things will become more clear for you. Are you ready?”
The theater lights dimmed, and colored lights randomly sparked across the screen. Soon an image emerged, dim at first and then coming into focus. As Danica watched, a tall, young, robed, woman stood bracing herself against a tree trunk in what looked like a dark glen lit by a full moon. Her legs were spread apart. Her dark hair was braided and hung down her back to her waist. Her face was slick with sweat. Another woman in a gray robe dabbed at her forehead and neck with a damp cloth. Every few minutes the tall woman would groan softly. Danica was frozen in place watching the familiar images unfold.
I’ve seen this in my dreams! This can’t be real!
Soon another woman appeared, this one wearing a blue robe, and she took the hem of the tall woman’s robe and tucked it up into the waistband. She kneeled behind her and put her hands between the tall woman’s legs. She said something to the gray-robed woman in a foreign language Danica didn’t recognize. Suddenly the tall woman gripped the tree and her ragged scream echoed through the dark wood. The attending woman frantically covered her mouth with the cloth and held it there. The tall woman’s head went back, and her body shuddered violently. The woman kneeling behind her caught the baby as it was born and laid it gently on the grass. She used a cloth to clean the small wriggling infant with water from an oil skin. Then she took a knife and cut the cord that bound mother and child and used two short pieces of twine to tie the ends of the cords. A few minutes later, the tall woman gave another groan, and the afterbirth was born. The attendant in gray used her hands and a stick to dig a shallow hole where she buried the afterbirth. Then she took another cloth and wet it and cleaned the tall woman’s legs, attempting to remove all traces of blood. She fashioned a breechclout using a length of fabric from the bottom of the tall woman’s robe and tied it around her waist to staunch the blood that continued to flow. Everything was done in silence. The blue-robed woman lifted the baby and handed it to the tall woman who cried and clutched it to her breast. The baby waved its arms and kicked its legs, but it made no sound, as if sensing the mystery of the night.
The Acolyte: Magicians of the Beyond Page 4