by Maya Daniels
“I see,” she says softly.
“Do you? Do you really see?” I feel like crying but I’m holding on to my anger. It’s safer, and lately, more familiar.
“Yes, witchling, I see.” She takes a deep breath, picks up two cups from the ground, and pours the liquid from the cauldron in them. She hands me one and keeps the other. First, she takes a long gulp from it, locking me in her gaze, and then points at the one I’m holding.
“Drink.”
I understand why she is looking at me. She is showing me it’s safe to drink. Well, kind of. There are many types of poison that kill one thing but not another, so she’s wasting time. I’m well aware she can kill me in many ways if she wants to, but she hasn’t, so I sip slowly from the brew. My eyes widen at the taste. It’s as delicious in taste as it is in smell. I scan the cup, mesmerized by the rainbow colors swirling in it. It smells like flowers and herbs, but the taste is so similar to peppermint tea that I take bigger gulps.
“Drink it slowly,” she warns.
“What is it?” I ask as I wipe my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt.
“Something that will help you when you go into the caves. It’ll cover your smell, among other things. I’m surprised they haven’t smelled you all over the realm already. I smelled the jasmine as soon as you stepped foot here.”
“What?” I almost yell.
“Calm down. I know you are not aware of it, but others are. Haven’t you noticed how others react to you before now?” she asks, surprised.
“I have … unfortunately.”
I think back to when it started that day I woke up from my coma in the hospital and the way Philip was acting. It brings memories of Remi, and pain mixed with anger bubbles in my heart, so I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, taking a deep breath so I can push it away. It won’t do me any good right now to see red, to not be able to think clearly. I realize she’s talking so I focus on her. I missed most of what she said earlier, but I’m not asking her to repeat it.
“Why haven’t you learned to cover it?”
“I can do that?”
“Of course. Hasn’t your mentor taught you anything?” she says angrily, and I laugh. Now she looks like I insulted her, so I hurry to explain.
“I’m not laughing at you. I’m sorry it sounded that way. I’m only laughing because I imagined you telling this to my mentor.” I giggle again, imagining Lucifer’s face as she is yelling at him. “I would pay to see that one,” I tell her.
She only shakes her head. “I need to connect with Rajah to see where Faith is, so be quiet,” she tells me.
“You can see through his eyes?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, how wond—”
“I said be quiet,” she cuts me off and I close my mouth with a snap.
I even put my hand on it just in case because I really can’t keep it shut, as you know. I watch her as she is connecting with the owl while I sip slowly from the brew. Between sips, I put my hand on my mouth, a reminder to keep it zipped. After a few minutes, she shifts her body left and then right.
“Can you describe the ones you are looking for?” she asks.
“Yes, of course. It’s three females, all around five foot four more or less. One has curly black hair half-way down her back, Middle-Eastern looking, the other has a dark blonde shoulder-length bob cut, porcelain skin, and the third is Native American. The men are ...”
“There are no men in this realm apart from the Dark Wizards,” she says, and I flinch from a sharp stabbing pain in my stomach and my heart.
Well, I knew it wouldn’t be that easy to find them all in one place, but a girl can hope. I hold my breath in anticipation, praying to everyone and everything in my head that they are here. Time passes very slowly for those who wait. It feels like eternity before she finally opens her eyes and pins me in place.
“Breathe, witchling, you are turning blue.”
Geez, I really did forget to breathe, so I take a deep gulp of air. It hurts as it fills my lungs. I sometimes wonder if after being awakened through the ashes, the wiring got mixed up in my head. It seems at times my natural survival instincts, like breathing—which is the case at this moment—need manual activation, like they don’t have an automatic setting. Fuck me. I won’t get killed. I’ll just die because I’ll forget to breathe one day. I take a few more deep breaths.
“Did you see them?”
“Faith is there. I know for sure because I know her. I think I saw the other three, but there are many in those caves. I can’t be sure.”
“That’s good enough for me. Tell me how to get there and how to get them out. Then I’m out of your hair.” I start getting up as I say this, but she stops me.
“You can’t just waltz in there and get them. First, you need to get your hands on one of those lanterns. You can’t step foot there without one. Trust me, many have tried.”
“Why are you here? Who are you actually? You know my name, and a hell of a lot more, I know it with certainty, but I don’t even know your name. And let’s not play games. I also know you’re not human.”
“Is that so?” There is amusement in her eyes.
“Answer my question, please.”
“My name is Azalea Shadowwalker. As for what I am, I can’t tell you. That’s for you to figure out, but even if you don’t, it’s not important now. What matters is that I help you when you need me.”
Well, I have a lot to say about her not being important. With entities like her, it’s better to be safe than sorry with knowing what you are dealing with. Unfortunately for me, the urgency in the pit of my stomach keeps my mouth shut. I am about to ask what the plan is when her earlier words smack me on the head.
“Oh, sweet Goddess, that’s why Faith was there? She was trying to steal a lantern?” I slap myself on the forehead hard enough that the sound echoes.
“Yes. She was hoping to follow them and see if she could somehow get her hands on one.”
“But why? She said she was already too late to save the person that was taken from her.”
“She was, yes. She decided to help free the others since she couldn’t save her soul sister,” Azalea says, and her voice is so sad my heart shrinks in my chest from the pain spreading through me. I knew she was a beautiful soul, and Azalea just confirmed it.
“Okay, then. Let’s go grab us a lantern. Oh, and before we start moving, I have only one question.”
“And that is?” She lifts her eyebrows at me.
“How do you kill one of those monsters?” I flinch at the coldness of my own words. They sound flat and merciless, like they’re coming out of someone else’s mouth. Even a love-and-light person can turn into a coldhearted killer when you rip her heart out of her chest. The gaping hole turns into an abyss and it consumes you slowly but surely. Before you know it, you are as close to becoming a monster as the ones you are hunting. No wonder they say if you stare long enough into the abyss, it will stare back.
Right now, I have no time to ponder on what I’m becoming. I’ll do that later when I get everyone out of here.
“Those monsters are humans,” she says flatly, and I rise an eyebrow at her.
“What? No they’re not! I saw them, remember? They look like skeletons and have fire for eyes.” I shiver at the thought.
“That’s what happens to them after using dark magick for too long. They are all wizards that practice the Dark Arts.”
“Are you saying I could’ve burned their asses instead of standing there while they took Faith?”
“There were too many of them for one. Don’t forget, they are wizards, so they will fight back with magick. You couldn’t take on all of them at once,” Azalea says.
I’m not so sure I can’t take them all. I hold my own when fighting Lucifer, and I will bet both my lungs and kidneys he will burn this entire realm with a flick of his wrist if he wants to. Oh, how I wish he were here. But he is not. I am, so I better get moving.
“Okay, let’s go. Oh, and you said you�
�ll give me something so I can come back if I get pulled out of here?”
“Ah, yes. Simply hold this in your palm and visualize the portal that brought you here.” She checks all her pockets and finally, from the one in her vest, she pulls out a thin chain necklace. As she lifts her arms to put it around my neck, my eyes lock on the pendant and I suck in a breath. It’s the same one I’ve been wearing since I can remember, the one my grandmother gave me when I was little, and the one that broke into a million pieces in the car accident. Well, not exactly the same, now that the shock is over. I see the differences. This butterfly looks like it’s made of flames.
I lift a shaky hand and I touch it gently where it sits at my collarbone. “Thank you,” I choke out through the lump in my throat.
“You are welcome, Alexia. Let’s go now before we waste another hour.” She pushes me gently in front of her.
I’m grateful she is trying to get my mind back on track. No matter how I feel or what I’m in the middle of, when it comes to my grandmother, it’s like the entire universe stops and she is all that matters. I guess seeing at it from that perspective, you can also say she’s my weakness—my Achilles heel. I know she is gone but I will still do anything for her … even die.
Chapter 6
Walking through the woods without having anyone chasing me makes me appreciate the beauty of it. Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m not turning into the mushy heroine one normally expects. I’ve learned how to appreciate things, even when everything seems lost. Not knowing what life may throw my way at any given time has made me more grateful. I can even see the beauty of nature in the middle of a shit storm, and my whole life has been one of those.
Opening my entire being, I connect to it. It makes me be a part of something and not totally alone.
I watch Azalea’s back as she moves gracefully in front of me, following behind her silently. Many scenarios play in my head about what can happen when we reach the mountain, and with each one I grow angrier and more determined. I want someone to pay for what the people I care about are going through. Burning Enlil’s essence is not enough. Every day, I wish I can somehow bring him back just so I can do it all over again.
I hear Azalea take in a sharp breath and she whirls on me. “Stop that this second! No one ever told you to be careful what you wish for? Or do you love pushing the Fates until they bite you in the ass again?”
I take a step back because the woman is almost spitting fire in her anger, then I bend my knees a little to prepare for her impending attack. “What are you talking about?” I ask warily, trying to judge if she’s going to lunge at me or not. Her eyes are glowing, and I can see the outline of her golden aura sizzling around her like an electrical charge waiting to be unleashed on me. At the same time, it’s like the trees and the ground under my feet are closing in on me, and it’s difficult to take a breath. Everything reacts to her anger like she is everything. I watch her through narrowed eyes, waiting. Her nostrils flare and she takes deep breaths in what I’m guessing is an attempt to calm down. I still don’t understand what flew up her ass. Bipolar much? All I do know is the precious moments we waste staring at each other we don’t have time for.
“Listen, lady, I have no idea what your problem is, but either attack and let’s fight it out or get the fuck out of my way. I have no time for your shit. I’ll figure out what I need to do on my own. Go deal with your outbursts,” I say angrily as I straighten up and take a step towards her. She’ll either move or she’ll attack, and I don’t care which happens at this point. “Get out of my fucking way.” Inches from her face, I meet her eyes, watching hers change back to their amber color. It’s a bit animalistic, and incredibly spooky to tell the truth.
“You have a death wish, witchling.” A contemplative look passes over her face. “You’re either too brave, too stupid, or you don’t care if you die.”
“As I said, Azalea, either move out of my way, attack, or start walking. I have no time for this.”
“Control your thoughts, witchling, before you conjure things none of us can help you banish.”
“So now you’re reading my mind?” I ask her through clenched teeth.
“You’re projecting loud and clear. Enough so the web is vibrating from it. As I said, control them or I will knock you out for three more months.” She starts walking again, but she’s still angry. I can tell because she loses the fluidity of her movements and now stomps with each step.
Dread pulls inside my stomach from her words, even as I follow numbly behind her. “Can I really do that? Bring him back from wherever I sent his ashes?” Now, that’s a chilling thought. Then anger takes over like someone rekindled a bonfire inside me. If I bring him back, I can take my time torturing him for a very long time before I decide to cut the cord holding him as part of my life. Images flip through my mind of all the horrific things I would like to do, of all the ways I want to see him suffer for everything he has done. I want him to hurt as much as I hurt.
No! I want him to hurt more.
I stop short, horrified. My heart beats wildly in my chest, my hands, fists clenched, hang next to my body, and trickles of blood slide down my wrist from my nails cutting the skin of my palms.
“What in the world is wrong with me?” I look at Azalea wide-eyed.
She stops walking, her face calm but sadness shimmering in her molten-gold eyes. Wisdom glimmers there, too, and it squeezes my heart because she knows what I am thinking. I can see it. Is this how she pities those wizards too? Based on the images in my mind, I can bet my life that some of those wizards are angelic compared to me.
Me! The one that moves ants out of her way so she doesn’t step on them.
“It’s this realm, Azalea. It’s doing something to me.” I give her a pleading look, wanting nothing more than confirmation. I need her to say something, anything that will put me at ease. Knowing I’m not as bad as those monsters holding people in their caves is the only thing I care about right now, and that thought sends goosebumps down my arms. “Please,” I whisper, and tears roll down, burning a path on my face.
“Let us walk and talk, witchling.”
She moves, but my feet stay rooted to the spot. I can’t lift my legs. I can barely breathe. After a few steps, she flicks a quick glance over her shoulder, comes back, and takes my hand in the crook of her arm, leading me forward. I drag my feet to keep pace with her.
“Anger is like a hot coal you try to throw at someone. You want to hurt them, but you burn yourself instead,” she says with a sigh. “Before you think I’m trying to say you shouldn’t be angry, let me elaborate for you, because obviously no one found the time until now.”
My eyes are focused on her, but I can’t really see her. I think I’m in shock from the severity and the cruelty of my mind. It’s not the first time. It’s been going on since that night, but bloody Lucifer with his damn talk before I passed out for three months did something to snap me out of the haze. Now, here I am facing a monster I don’t know how to defeat because I am that monster. Azalea watches me carefully and I blink fast clear my head.
“Sorry. I’m listening.”
“I know you are, witchling.” She pats my hand without letting it go. “You see, child, we all get knowledge from books, stories, and watching people deal with things in their life, but it’s only that. Knowledge. You will never be able to find your balance until you turn that knowledge into wisdom. And for that, witchling, you need to feel it on your own skin.”
“What do you mean? I’ve felt more than my fair share of knowledge on my skin,” I say bitterly.
“And do you regret it? Do you think life conspired against you, acted to make you suffer?” One eyebrow raised, she looks at me like I’m an idiot. Maybe I am.
“I could’ve used less of it,” I reply sourly, turning my eyes from her face and towards the trees ahead.
“And who would you be now if that were the case?”
“Me! Who else could I be? If it were easy to change who we are, I woul
d’ve done it in a heartbeat a long time ago,” I respond honestly.
“I see. You think if your life had been any different, you still would’ve been the same person you are today. How very naïve, witchling.”
“All I’ve ever wanted, Azalea, is to love and be loved. For people to be kind to each other and for no one to hurt. Is that a bad thing? Is it too much to ask? You think anything could’ve changed who I am deep inside? I don’t believe that.”
“Maybe not,” she admits, “but it would’ve changed what you did with your life and your path would’ve been much different. You wouldn’t have been there for those that need you.”
“I still don’t think it would’ve been the case. You have good people and you have bad people. End of story. Although now I’m thinking I might not be one of the good ones.”
She shakes her head and laughs softly.
Well, she can shake her head and laugh as much as she wants. After everything, I know better … much better. My stomach lurches, and I think the brew she gave me is about to come out, so I breathe though my nose, slow deep breaths, and hold my other hand on my belly as if by sheer will I can hold it down.
“You think everything is that simple, hmm? Life is black and white, everything is nicely outlined, and you just walk through it on a straight path like a horse wearing blinders?”
“I’m not that naïve, but the moral compass is either there or it’s not … I didn’t notice when mine broke,” I finish in almost a whisper, and she laughs. I really want to slap her—or myself. Whatever, just slap something.
“Deep breaths, witchling. Remember, your anger is skin deep. You need to let it go.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do. Find them, bring them back, and let it go.”
“That’s not how it works. At what cost will you bring them back? Your life? You think they will be grateful for that?”