by Lola StVil
I don’t budge.
Do eavesdroppers ever make it into the Light? Yeah, didn’t think so.
I hear Marcus speak first.
“Things don’t have to be this way between us.”
“What way?” she asks.
“We don’t have to be enemies.”
“We’re not. We’re co-workers”
“Seriously?”
“I really don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Say that we can be friends.”
“What difference does that make?”
“How can you ask that? What is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this? Are you really this mad because we broke up?”
“You really don’t get it.”
“No, Ameana, I don’t. Explain it to me.”
“You didn’t leave me the night you broke up with me. You left me months before that but you were too much of a coward to admit it.”
“I was honest with you.”
“Liar! Every laugh we shared, every kiss you gave me every after you laid eyes on Emmy was a lie.”
“What we had—”
“What we had was over. But instead of telling me, you spent weeks pretending. I kept thinking I was doing something to push you away. I blamed myself for not being a girlfriend to you.”
“It’s not your fault we broke up. You have to know that.”
“Breaking up is what decent guys do. They fall for another girl, admit it, and make a clean break. That’s not what you did.”
“What did I do?”
“YOU ABANDONED ME!!!”
A heavy silence fills the apartment. When Ameana speaks again, she is calm and in control. But there’s a sadness in her tone that betrays her attempts to appear composed.
“I loved you. You loved me. Something changed. You should have told me. I deserved to know. Instead you let me be in it alone. Marcus, how could you let me be in love alone?”
* * *
A few hours later, we prepare to leave The Sage’s home and head for Terra. Although everyone recharged, they don’t look very rested. I think not knowing what they are headed for has everyone on edge.
While the team pours over a map of Terra, I grab a breakfast of toast and tea from the kitchen. The Sage offers to have the old lady make eggs, but I have learned the hard way that it’s best to eat light when you are traveling with Guardians.
As we head out the door, The Sage stops us. His voice is serious and filled with sorrow.
“I would like to think we are all friends,” he says.
We all exchange a look but don’t say anything.
“It pains me to know the truth. Still I feel it only fair to share it with you,” he continues.
“What is it?” Marcus asks.
“I do not foresee all of you returning. In fact, I guarantee it.”
CHAPTER FIVE: HOUSE OF THREE
We arrive in Terra Oblivioni, a few miles outside of New Jersey. There is nothing here but abandoned warehouses and dilapidated buildings. They told me it would be filled with drug addicted Angels but nothing they said could have prepared me for this heart-wrenching sight.
The Tics looked more like zombies than Angels. In truth, I’m not sure the things sticking out of their backs can even be called wings. They look more like the skeleton of what used to be wings. The disturbing and sad sight makes me flinch.
Each Tic has wing damage but to different degrees. There is a Tic propped up alongside an abandoned car; his feathers are gone. There’s only a thin layer preventing us from seeing the skeleton of his wings.
Other Tics don’t even have the skeleton intact. One Tic over by the trash can has only two bones protruding out of his shoulder blades.
“What happened to him?” I ask Jay.
“Sometimes when a Tic runs out of feathers, he’ll break off a piece of his wing bone and sell it for drugs.”
“His bones are worth something?”
“Angel bones look like humans’ but they aren’t. They are vastly stronger and more valuable. When Angel bone is ground up and mixed with other ingredients, it has a number of uses. Many of the items sold in the Market consist of angel bone,” Rio explains.
I am unable to take my eyes off the Tics roaming aimlessly in the streets. What I find even more disturbing than the Tic’s wings is the state of their bodies. They are severely underweight. They stagger out into the streets like drunks with no equilibrium.
At first it looks like they are zombies with black and grey polka dots for skin. But then Marcus tells me the black dots are splotches where darkness has invaded their soul. I look into their eyes and a cold chill runs down my body. There is a black void where their eyes used to be. Miku says they can still see us, it’s just that the light has been drained from their eyes.
Some Tics are missing fingers and other body parts. I’m told that’s because some attempt to sell off as much of themselves as possible for just one more hit of Peek or CP.
Their bodies are so frail, it’s as if death haunts their every step. There is no way to really tell the males from the females since most of them are bald. The decay of their soul is reflected in every inch of their bodies.
“Shouldn’t we help them?” I ask.
“There is no helping a Tic,” Marcus informs me.
“Technically they can kick the habit,” Miku says, uncertain.
“Yeah, and Sellers make it into the light. Give me a break,” Marcus snorts.
I look up at the Guardians and their radiant wings flying against the still air.
“So, if Angel feathers are what they need to get more drugs, then you guys—” Rio finishes my thought.
“We are a major payday for them.”
“Exactly why we need to find Lakom before—” Marcus never gets to finish his sentence.
A few yards away from us, a Tic grunts out a series of loud noises. The entire town of Terra never realized we were there until then. At once every single Tic registered our presence by turning towards us.
“Why didn’t they see us before?” I ask.
“It’s like they are sleepwalking when they’re under the influence. But sooner or later, one of them comes back to reality, if only for a short time,” Miku says.
“That’s when they realize there are Angels among them,” Jay says.
“I’m guessing that’s bad,” I say almost to myself.
“Very bad,” Rio confirms.
Suddenly, every Tic in Terra is headed our way. It only takes seconds for the mob of zombie Angels to surround us. It looks like a scene out of a bad Halloween flick. The teens are eaten by a mob of flesh-eating monsters. But in the movies, you can fast forward the parts that scare you. We will not have that luxury.
The Tics force us into the center of the mob. There are hundreds of them. They grunt and howl like animals.
“We can take them,” Marcus says.
“Yes, but should we?” Miku asked.
“Should we? Hell yeah we should!” Jay whispers to us.
“I’m just saying they are Angels just like us. They have souls,” Miku explains.
“I don’t care if they have my grandmother’s eyes and my mama’s meatloaf recipe. We take ’em down,” Jay insists.
“The soul argument is a little weak Pretty; they barely have any soul left,” Ameana replies.
“That’s not the point.”
“Well, when is an Angel not really an Angel anymore?” Rio asks.
“That sounds like a great topic. Maybe we could get it to trend on Twitter later. But right now, can we just find a way out?” I ask.
“We can’t hurt them Marcus. I won’t,” Miku insists.
The Tics study the Guardian’s wings as if they’re too good to be true. Marcus takes my hand and places me behind him. I could point out that since I don’t have wings, I’m no danger but then again, they ripped their own body parts off…
“Can you use your shield?�
� Marcus asks Rio.
“They’re too close,” Rio replies.
“They weak man, we got this,” Jay says.
“What they lack in strength they make up for in desperation. The last time I underestimated an addict, she killed me,” Marcus warned.
He then signals to Ameana. Before I can get a handle on what’s happening, a rust-infested car cuts through the air and heads straight into the crowd. The Tics try to get out of the way but many don’t make it in time.
The team tries to take to the air but nothing happens. Rio says it’s a no-fly zone and we have to make a run for it. We turn back and find that Tics, no matter how drugged out, don’t care to be attacked. We have now pissed off the entire town of Terra.
They run after us with renewed dedication. They take off in speeds I didn’t think they were capable of. We bolt down the street.
“We need to take them out, Marcus,” Jay says.
“No, we aren’t killing our own,” Miku protests.
“Look at them Miku; they have no issues taking us out.”
“I’m not singing to them,” Miku vows.
“They’re trying to kill us. C’mon yo!” Jay says, frustrated.
“Then Glide away, whatever,” Miku retorts
“I’m not gonna Glide and leave my team.”
“How can they run this fast?” I ask.
“They know if they catch us, it will buy them an unlimited supply of drugs,” Rio says.
Seconds later, a Tic gets close enough to Jay. He lunges into the air and drags Jay down to the floor. Within seconds, half a dozen Tics invade Jay’s body. The team fights to pull them off. They aren’t strong, but the sheer number of the mob makes it difficult for the team to get a good handle on the situation.
The Tics are like bees. One of them is easy to take care of, but when they number in the hundreds, they are deadly. The Tics leap on top of the Guardians, a dozen to each member. They pull, claw, and bite their way towards the Guardian’s wings.
The Guardians fling Tics to the left and right but the more they fend off, the more come back. Then a voice speaks with a heavy British accent:
“Perhaps I could be of service, madame?”
“Lakom!” I turn and find my favorite “not a Genie” standing a few yards away.
“The Port has been preprogrammed,” he says, pointing to the awaiting Ports.
I call Marcus’s attention to the Ports. Marcus instructs the team to go ahead while he takes care of the Tics. The team makes their way to the Ports.
Marcus uses a street lamp from the ground and turns it into a makeshift bat. He is able to keep the mob away but not for long. Soon they invade again, this time willing to die just to get to him.
“Hurry!” I scream.
Marcus is already on the run. The Tics take off after him. Rio holds out his hand and pulls Marcus up just in time. The last thing we see is the mob turning on each other.
The once strong and powerful Angels, who used to battle evil, now battle for two stray feathers on the ground.
* * *
Traveling in the Port is as quick as blinking. One moment you’re in one place, then you open your eyes, and you are somewhere completely different. I’m not sure what I expected to see after seeing the mob of zombie Angels, but I certainly didn’t expect to see what stands before us.
The team and I are transported to the center of a glorious Japanese garden. It’s the kind of place you see in travel shows and it makes you ache to be there. Every single thing in this garden is perfect.
There are bonsai trees throughout the garden with shades of green so vivid, it’s impossible not to stare. But you are forced to look away because there is yet another fanatic sight your eyes long to behold: The flowers. The impossible beauty emanating for them makes the garden feel like what I feel when I’m around Marcus: Calm. Peaceful. Loved.
The wind blows gently causing the leaves to swan dive gracefully off the trees and into the pond below. On the surface of the pond are leaves and flower petals that have met a similar joyous fate, thanks to the cool breeze. The only sound comes from the steady flow of water streaming from the top of the waterfall as it merges into the pound.
The focal point of the garden is a bright red bridge that goes over the water; a few yards past the bridge is a pathway that leads to a Japanese-style temple. On the front of the temple there is a red carving just like the one the Phin. It’s the number 3 and alongside of it is the letter C, linked to make the shape of a spade.
Honestly, I don’t care what is in the temple. I just want to stay here in this garden of unimaginable beauty. This would be the perfect place to spend my last few weeks. I wonder if I can get Marcus to agree to it.
Yeah, right. I could just see how that conversation would go:
Me: Hey, why don’t we stay in this amazing, peaceful place until its time for me to die?
Marcus: No.
Me: But—
Marcus: No.
Me: Nothing is going to stop me from having to die so let’s stay here and have fun until it’s time.
Marcus: No.
“Emmy? Hello?” Rio says.
“Oh, sorry; spaced out,” I reply, shaking my head.
“You spaced out? Shocking,” Ameana says, mildly irritated.
“I was just thinking how beautiful this place is.”
“It’s lovely,” Miku agrees.
I look over at Marcus and take a shot.
“Maybe you and I could stay here for awhile,” I suggest.
“No.”
Do I know my boyfriend or what?
Lakom tells us to follow him. It’s strange but when he speaks it feels wrong to do anything but follow his instructions. It’s like being in grade school and having the teacher tell me what to do. It never occurs to me to disobey.
Still, I would love to just sit in this garden with Marcus. We would finally get a chance to talk. I would get to ask the thing I’ve never really had time to ask him. I have always wanted to know more about his family on earth. I would love to know more about his mom and what his life was like before he died.
“We are now in The House of Three?” Jay asks.
“Yes,” Lakom replies, as we make our way up the stone front steps of the temple.
We enter what looks to be the center of the temple. There is a slightly elevated platform that has three enormous throne-like chairs, made of some kind of black rock. The room is almost empty. There is nothing in here aside from the three thrones and a wall of water cascading behind it.
“Am I the only one thrown by this?” Rio asks.
“No, it doesn’t make sense. Are we still in Terra?” Ameana wonders.
“No. You are in The House of Three in the City of Adam.”
We follow the voice and find a beautiful girl about our age sitting on the throne in the center. She has rosy cheeks, plum-red, heart-shaped lips, and piercing blue eyes. Her hair is silver and shimmers like the sun reflecting on the pound in the garden.
She pulled her luminous hair into a bun high on top of her head. There isn’t one strand out of place. She wears a simple, nude-color dress, made of silk. It complements her complexion but clashes with the hardness of the throne.
Judging from her frame and her posture, I would say she had years of ballet training. But with Angels, that’s just how they are, naturally graceful. That’s why I am so shocked by what I see in front of me. Or, should I say, what I don’t see.
“Where are her wings?” I ask Marcus under my breath.
“Good question,” he replies.
Could she be human?
“Marcus, I apologize. I did not arrange anywhere for you and your team to sit. I was unsure what state you would be in when you arrived. The Tics can be—unkind to Angels. I thought perhaps you and your team would be in need of recharging.”
“We’re fine. We would like to know who you are and why you have summoned us here.”
&nbs
p; “Lakom, you can go. Thank you.”
Lakom nods slightly, leaps into the nearest light fixture, and disappears.
“We have much to go over. Please have a seat,” she says.
Just as the words leave her mouth, a row of plush armchairs appear.
Okay, so she’s not human because she has powers. But she has no wings, so she’s not an Angel. What the hell is she?
Looking around the room, I am not the only one who’s perplexed by this.
“If this is not to your liking, perhaps this will work?” she says, as the arm chairs are replaced by wooden chairs with carvings. Marcus ignores the chair and addresses the girl.
“What are you?”
“I am Quo.”
“What is that?” the Twins ask.
“I will answer all of your questions. However, it is my turn,” she addresses Marcus.
“You are on a search to save both your love and your mission. A search, I understand, that is about to fail.”
Rio reads Marcus’s Waves and signals to me that he doesn’t like what he sees.
“What the hell is it you want?” Marcus snaps.
The quickest way to piss off my favorite Angel is to tell him he’s going to fail at saving me.
“You have come all this way. Have a seat and we will talk,” she says pleasantly.
Marcus exchanges glances with the rest of the team and they’re all in agreement. We take a seat on the wood chairs.
As soon as we do, a table appears before us. Then glasses filled with Coy appear.
“Please, help yourselves,” she says. Marcus shoots her an impatient look. She smiles.
“I understand. It is difficult to wait. We have waited a long time and we are familiar with the torture that accompanies the act.”
“So end the waiting and tell us what this is about,” Ameana demands.
“My name is Chance. I am the leader of the Quo people.”
“And what are the Quo people exactly?” I ask, before Marcus can bark at her again.
“I promise to answer your question shortly. For now, I would like to ask a question of your leader. Marcus, I have heard you have taken to reading fairytales in order to remove the Dy that’s been cast into your love. Is that true?”