“You’ll know. It’s the same with any dream, Willow. You must force it to tell you the truth. Question everything as you go through the memory. You ultimately know what truly happened. Force your brain to let you in.” Geo crosses his arms.
In just moments we are back again. Arek sends me faster and more aggressively into the recesses and the speed through the darkness is a bit easier now. The gray carpet with the white furniture appears. The sun burns my neck until I turn around and stare at the window even though it forces me to squint.
“No sun . . .” I whisper. “There is no sun.”
Suddenly a large rumble like a roar from the belly of the earth begins outside, and an instant steady rain drums the roof. The sky unnaturally rolls into darkness like I’ve never seen before, like the lights to the world are turned off. Flashes of lightning rip across the charcoal sky followed by the grumbling thunder. The living room is lit by a silver lamp in the corner of the room.
“Gray carpet . . . white furniture . . .” I pay attention to everything. This time I hold a blood-covered knife. I shake my head. “It hasn’t happened yet.” I shut my eyes. “It hasn’t happened yet.” Before I open them, I hear the quiet sound of talking—two feminine voices not far away. I am adjacent to Elizabeth and Lyneva, who glare at each other. Their standoff confuses me.
“Lyneva, the council trusted you to make those decisions and you led them into a slaughter.” For the first time, Elizabeth’s elegant body looks sinewy and stiff as she yells.
“Please tell her you didn’t do it,” I urge my mother.
“Trying to find the compromise between the Rebellion and the Powers is not betrayal, Elizabeth,” Lyneva retorts.
“Children died,” Elizabeth cries out. “People lost their lives because you told Japha and Navin everything.”
Lyneva turns to me. “None of this is true. Those people died because of their stupidity.”
“I have proof.” Elizabeth pulls papers from a bag.
“What are those?” Lyneva asks with concern.
“Letters between you, Navin, and Japha. You planned the death of thousands of Ephemes. Who knows how many of these massacres you’ve orchestrated?”
I look at Elizabeth in horror, then back at my mother. “Is any of this true?” I ask.
Yet Elizabeth won’t let Lyneva speak. “I saw all of them. The morning after I walked in on you with Japha and Navin when Briston was gone . . . I hired someone to find out what it was you were up to. I knew something was wrong. Japha and Navin had a hold on you.”
“Mom,” I beg, “tell her this isn’t true.”
Lyneva is silent as she looks me over. There is nothing genuine behind her eyes but rage.
Still Elizabeth presses again. “So many people died at the Red Summit—innocent people who didn’t deserve to die.” Elizabeth hands the papers to me, but Lyneva knocks them out of my hand so they scatter far and wide.
“Why?” I ask. “Navin and Japha want to turn on everyone! They don’t care about any Velieri, they would kill Velieri if they didn’t agree with them.”
“That’s not true,” Lyneva says calmly.
“It’s true enough that you’re protecting them.” I gather the papers.
“Remy, we can’t hide anymore. Let’s be free. Forget the Powers, the Prophets, Ephemes, and anyone else who wants to tear us down and bind us to a life of never speaking of who we are,” Lyneva pleads.
“I believe in that, too.” My voice finally rises in defense. “I want that. Yet there must be a way to do this without hate and murder. I’ve told you . . . I’m trying to find a way.”
Lyneva shakes her head, the morose thoughts written in her creased forehead. “No, there is no way. The Prophecy isn’t real. Do you know what the Prophecy is?”
I am quiet, so Lyneva continues, “There is one . . . One Velieri who will be able to fuse with another. You’ve been with Arek how long? And you’ve never had a child. This One is going to bring peace between the Ephemes and Velieri? How? When they told me and your father that you were chosen I never believed them.”
Elizabeth interrupts, “You never wanted to believe them. Ever since we were kids you hated them . . . Ephemes . . . because they killed Mom and Dad. You spent so much of Remy’s life convincing her that she was not the One because it’s not what you want.”
“Why didn’t you want that?” I look at her as though this question has never been an option until now.
Lyneva cocks her head to the side, trying desperately to plead with me. “How about what you want Elizabeth? The reason that you might want to take me down. Does Remy know that you were supposed to marry Briston? Yet he fell in love with me.” Elizabeth’s objections come out in a squelched hiss, but Lyneva doesn’t stop. “You’ve never forgiven me for becoming pregnant with Remy when you wanted him for yourself—”
Elizabeth interrupts, “That has nothing to do with this.”
“It has everything to do with this! You tried to make Briston love you. But when he chose me and the Powers chose me . . . it ruined you. I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry you weren’t enough for him.” Lyneva gauges Elizabeth with her words.
Elizabeth looks at me.
“Were you in love with my father?” I ask.
Elizabeth nods. “Yes. And he was in love with me . . . but she tricked him, Remy.”
I am quiet. Confused. I can see Elizabeth’s hands opening and closing with tension. Lyneva smiles, knowing she has power, until something in my memory breathes out. Her words have conjured up demons deep within me that I’ve been forced to forget or chosen to forget . . . I’m not sure which. An angry inferno builds within me, my memory whipping its blue flames. “You always looked at me like you couldn’t stand me.” The words burn my lips as they billow out. Lyneva’s confidence drops from her face, which makes me want to continue, “The times when Dad left and you stuck me in a corner for days. Or the beating I received for nothing . . . something you made up in your mind. Don’t try to pretend you’re the upstanding citizen! Your jealousy made a lasting impression on me . . . left me with holes that Elizabeth did her best to fill.”
Elizabeth is clearly grateful I have caught on. “Lyneva thought that when she married your father, she would be the One. It was your father’s line that was connected to the original Prophecy. Yet it wasn’t until she was pregnant with you that Gyre told her the truth. She would give birth to the One. I’ll never forget the day she lost her place in line. You took what she felt was hers.”
Lyneva’s true nature suddenly spreads across her face faster than strikes of lightning across the tumultuous sky. “Navin!” she calls.
My knees weaken when Elizabeth and I fearfully scan the room in search of Navin.
A gliding figure in dark clothes enters from the back room, a handgun, firmly clenched in his hands, pointed at me. However, my reflexes are so fast that I’m holding a black handgun in seconds. The Willow in me wonders how it all happened so fast. He has no chance to shoot. The way that I can suddenly move, holding the gun as comfortably as a pencil in school, my feet confident and the thoughts in my brain repeating how he has no chance, whatsoever—and truly believing it—tells me clearly that this is not me.
“I wouldn’t, Navin!” I warn him. The standoff is silent for an uncomfortable minute until he takes several steps closer. I pull Elizabeth behind my back to keep her safe, but then an older voice hits the stale air behind us. In a split-second I somehow have a gun in each hand, my arms pointed to opposite sides of the room—one at the old man and the other on Navin.
“I can’t hide anymore.” This truth that I very much understand tumbles out of Lyneva.
“Then let’s fix that. It’s what I’ve been fighting for.” My white knuckles on the guns remind Navin and Japha that I am serious. Japha, who dresses like my grandfather without the golfer’s cap, wraps his crooked fingers around his weapon.
“They have to be beaten,” Lyneva says quietly.
I laugh, “They? Ephemes? Oka
y . . . I see. It’s always something. There’s always someone to hate.” I adjust my feet, “That’s why I can’t do this. You see that, right? Freedom doesn’t mean anything at the annihilation of someone else.”
Navin takes a step forward, “Remy, I need you.” Lyneva looks at him with sharp confusion but he pays no attention. “The world needs us. You know that. You and me.” I keep the gun pointed at him. “I believe in the Prophecy. I was told when I was a child that ‘the One’ would be with me. Together we would do what others can’t. Think hard. You remember.”
Lyneva’s eyes are wild with anger. “Navin, what are you doing?”
Yet he ignores her and continues pursuing me. “Your mother’s always been your weakness. We knew she could bring you to us.” He looks at Japha and that’s when Lyneva realizes she has never been a part of the plan. Their eyes say it all.
Without warning, Navin turns his gun on Lyneva, yet his eyes stay on me. Lyneva cries out “No!” just as the gun reverberates. Blood splatters the wall behind Lyneva and sends her flying on to the gray carpet. Navin then walks to her body, places the gun behind her ear as she coughs up blood, and pulls the trigger again.
“No!” I yell.
Before I can shoot, Japha points the gun at Elizabeth and shoots twice. My gun pops, sending Japha to the ground, but only for a moment as Navin ducks my second shot and grabs me.
Suddenly voices shout from somewhere outside. Japha and Navin look up in surprise—their plan has been interrupted.
My body jerks as I open my tired eyes and I am no longer in the memory. Arek is in front of me. My head spins, and I’m groggy. Arek keeps me upright while the confusion subsides.
“Calm your breathing down,” he whispers.
In and out, the air passes through my nasal passage until my chest puffs up like a bird; slowly the breath squeezes through my lips, allowing my ribcage to shrink. My arms are numb all the way down to my fingertips, so I wiggle each finger trying to increase the circulation. Finally shapes and colors begin to form, and I am in Sassi and Kilon’s cabin living room once again.
“He killed her,” I breathe out while still squeezing my eyes shut.
Arek sits up straighter and Kilon closes the distance between us as though he is going to speak, but my shaky voice begins first. “It is during a storm. At first it is sunny, but it changes. Remy, Elizabeth . . . Lyneva . . . are there. Elizabeth has proof that Lyneva was working with Japha and Navin.” It is difficult to remember even though it just happened, and I tap my forehead with my fingers as if to make the memory clearer. “Lyneva helped Navin and Japha plan the Summit?” Everyone’s faces change.
“Elizabeth has proof?” Sassi casts her eyes on Arek.
Peter is the only one who doesn’t seem to understand. “Is she talking about the Red Summit? The one from 1979?”
Arek nods. “There were assumptions that it was Navin, but no one could ever prove it.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“There was a massacre of Ephemes in 1979. The Soviet Union was blamed due to the Cold War,” Geo explains.
“Elizabeth swears that Lyneva helped them,” I say quietly. “And she is right. I believe her. Lyneva didn’t realize that she was being used. And Navin shot her. He shot her once in the chest, then again in the side of her head.”
“He never wanted Lyneva,” Arek rubs his eyes. “He always wanted you. You were the one with Power. Lyneva was just a way to get to you.”
“So, we find Navin tomorrow?” I ask. “Teach me how to handle myself. At least how to keep him out of my head so I can help.”
Geo lets go of Beckah’s hand, takes off his jacket, and throws it on a nearby chair. “Let’s do this.”
“You will?” I ask.
Geo grins as he takes off his watch and lays it on the table. “The connection to our spiritual being, our mental being, and physical being makes sense to me—like music to Mozart,” Geo says quietly as he pulls a chair from the table and sets it in front of me. “Teaching you to defend this is the only way for you to walk away tomorrow.”
“No. We’re not doing this.” Arek’s anger tumbles out in a growl.
“I can do this.” My words come out, however, without much conviction.
“No, you can’t.”
Everyone is silent for a time. I watch Arek’s fear turn his muscles tense. Finally, unconcerned about the people watching, I walk to Arek until I’m so close our chests touch. Looking into his tired eyes, I see that this has been Arek’s life since my death. He has done nothing else or wanted anything else. “Remy’s coming back. I can feel it.” My fingers touch his temples on one side, “I saw your mother . . . and she says hello.”
“What?” his rough voice whispers.
“She says to tell you hello and not to worry.”
Arek is silent until Sassi places a hand on his shoulder. “Remy’s in there. She has the gift . . . still.”
“Do I know your mother?”
Arek nods. “The spiritual world was as close to you as anything tangible here for us, and after my mom died, she would use that to speak to me,” Arek explains.
I place a hand on his chest. “She’s there. It may be deep, but she’s there.”
A freezing wind picks up suddenly, pulling the icy leaves in front of me, up and around in a circular motion. When one lands it makes a small distinct cracking sound. Even the hair on my arms is starting to form small icicles from the moisture in the air. I spin around taking in the encompassing darkness, yet the echo of the trees tells me I am in the forest. How did I get here? I don’t remember walking outside Sassi and Kilon’s cabin. Then again, it doesn’t seem like the same type of tree and their cabin is nowhere in sight. Suddenly my feet begin to burn, yet when I look down, they are nearly covered in foot-high snow—it isn’t burning, it is severe cold that pierces my skin with needles.
“Look at me, Willow.” I hear Arek’s voice and I look up into the darkness. If I stick out my hand, it is difficult to even see my palm. There is no moon and the stars are fading.
“Where are you?” I call out as I wrap my arms around my chest.
The eerie nature of a forest at night is magnified when alone, and especially when a dark figure begins to emerge from the shadows. I back away, my heart painfully trying to find normal rhythm. A morphing shape keeps an even pace until finally it is clear that Geo is coming close. He stares at me with expectancy.
“What? Where’s Arek?”
“In front of you.”
I look again, but see nothing, only trees and darkness. I squeeze my eyes hard, almost as though I am trying to peer through a pane of glass.
“I can’t see him.”
“He’s touching your arm.”
I can see the hair on my arm compress and draw down toward my wrist. “I can’t see him.” The pain of standing in the severely cold mountain air isn’t nearly as bad as the feeling in my head. Everything is beginning to pound, almost to a point where the phantom hand running down my skin feels like razors. “It hurts, tell him to stop.”
“I can’t, Willow. Stop and concentrate on finding him.”
“How do I do it?”
“We’ve told you this.”
The pain worsens. “I don’t remember! Tell me again!”
“You’re letting him see for you.”
“It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes, it does. He’s controlling you with his voice. Can’t you hear it?”
“No.”
“Listen.”
I close my eyes. I can hear the flap of a bird’s feathers. The trees crack. The emptiness of the forest is too loud, but then I can hear something. I’m not sure if I can even call it a sound, rather a breath—like a quiet hum. Then it turns to tapping; after a while I realize it is my teeth chattering.
“It’s too cold.”
“It’s not cold, Willow.” Geo doesn’t come closer. He stays away and places his hands in his pockets.
I clench my jaw together. Again, I hea
r it. This time I focus on the hum. If I listen hard enough, it separates into beats. A rhythm. Then finally I hear words.
“Magatea, in hus cols. Sesham ban il hunt.” And then they repeat.
“You hear it.” Geo can see the recognition on my face.
“Yes.”
“Bring the thoughts back to your own. It’s not cold. Figure out where you are. You must let go of Arek’s words. Counter them with your own. You know the language . . . speak back. Break the rhythm he’s made.” I am quiet for a moment as I think. “Speak!” Geo yells angrily, which is the most emotion he’s shown. “You don’t get time to wait, Willow! You understand that? Japha and Navin will take every advantage that you give them and control you in seconds. You’re not weak yet you’re acting like it.”
He continues, “The more silence, the more the rhythm begins to make sense to your brain. Don’t let it make sense. Find the difference between what your voice sounds like and what his sounds like.”
The drag of his voice is low and the rumble deep. I listen.
“My voice is higher.”
“Then use it,” Geo demands. “When you realize how much fear enslaves you . . . if you break free of it, you’ll be able to do anything.”
“What do I say,” I grimace as my head splits. It’s the same as with Navin. I am willing to do anything to battle this pain.
“Just speak. Anything . . .”
Arek speaks, “You have nothing of your own. Your breathing doesn’t belong to you.”
I counter in my own rhythm—pushing beats to change his pattern. Geo says, “Any break in one’s pattern means a weakness in their defense.”
“I can breathe. My breath moves in and out. I can breathe on my own. It moves in and out of my body at my choice.” It takes minutes of repeating these words. My arms begin to warm up and when I open my eyes, the forest has turned to day—not just day, but a rather brilliant and burnt orange covers the sky behind the tall trees. Geo is still several feet away, but now I can see that there is someone in front of me, even though it is a blur. I reach out for him. Instantly, something happens, and the ground begins to shake. I look around as dark figures come out of the shadows—men with weapons. The rays of the nearly fluorescent orange shoot off the shiny metal in their hands. I back away as the ground shakes.
Out of the Shadows: Book One of the Velieri Uprising Page 20