Concealed beneath the sleeve of her blouse, secured by a watchband, she carried the repellent to each of the four corners of the main living space where the party was in full swing. With a crowd gathered, distribution of the mixture went unnoticed. That would have surely raised an eyebrow or two, and arouse questions that were better left unanswered.
With the barrier set, Rozina called upon the forces, fueled by nature, which would cast the evil energy from her home, away from innocents. “Darkness drawn, I eject thee from this sacred space. This I command.” The suffocating cloud retaliated in defiance to her barely audible plea. Once more the blessing was repeated with intense fervor. She would not be trifled with.
Resentful screeches bellowed in rage against the sting of radiating positivity. Only audible to her ears, the raw anger that filled the vocalizations shook her to the core. For a brief second Rozina feared that her spell would crack under the pressure.
A steady chant invoking Octrisia’s divine protection was the added support she needed to finally drive the evil energy away from her home. Thank you my Goddess for lending me your strength. That still left the question, who had called the spirit to begin with? Rozina shuddered in disgust. The darkness had been dismissed, but its owner was here in her house.
“Mother, it’s time for cake and presents. Come on,” Rozina’s daughter Clovera called from the kitchen. Pinpoints of flickering flames encircled a layered chocolate butter cream cake. Guests had gathered around the table like worshippers seeking an audience with their supreme leader. Presents wrapped in patterned papers sat on the counter.
“I’ll be there in a moment.” She needed to plaster on another forced smile for the grand finale. At least she didn’t have to suffer through more singing. It was tradition to celebrate with song prior to mingling and the receiving of gifts.
Promise of a peaceful evening came as the last remaining car sped away into the setting sun, casting inky shadows across the grass. She could let go of the farce. That party had taken more out of her than she realized, and having to pretend to be joyous about it didn’t help. Exhaustion swept through her body, but she couldn’t rest, not until Lapisera’s Dagger was protected.
Creaking from her heavy staggered ascension, the wooden stairs protested, whining profusely. Rozina returned to the safe haven of her bedroom where she retrieved the sacred blade.
The copper and veined wood held a glossy sheen under the glow of several pillar candles. Lapisera’s Dagger sat on a bed of sand centered in the circle of melting wax. Antique lantern with colored glass panes in hand, Rozina stepped forward, a pocket of heat licking at her ankles.
Words flowed in a pre-determined rhythm, that was the art of the Haiku, a poem consisting of three lines in the order of five syllables, seven, and then five again. There was beauty in their simplicity, and a depth that could be conveyed in such a short composition. Shards going back as far as the beginning of Azulyria used this literary form as the basis for their concealment spells.
The enchantment that about to be performed would take possession of the dagger and whisk it away to an undisclosed location unbeknownst to even her. And whoever possessed the Visulumina, the special lantern she held, could uncover its final resting place.
Serena would inherit it when the time came for her to depart from this world. Her grand niece already showed signs of having an artistic personality, so she would appreciate its nuances and history.
Joining the dagger was a raven’s feather to symbolize flight for the purpose of relocation, and to act as a conduit for generating enough power to transport the dagger. Other elements could be added to influence the spell as a guide, or to add more potency. Rozina added five drops of seawater to direct the spell to conceal the dagger in a body of water, which on this planet, was in abundance. She proceeded with the finding binding after the Haiku was recited.
“A veil is formed. The tides have turned. I relinquish this blade from my protection. Out of sight, out of mind, send it away where it shall be difficult to find.” She delivered with morose intonation.
This decision had not been an easy call to make. Steam rose from the spots where the droplets had hit the sand. A sudden torrent of wind swept up the particles into a swirling vortex, blocking the dagger from sight.
When the miniature storm subsided, Lapisera’s Dagger was no more. It had vanished from the pile of sand, heading off to its new hiding place. One less burden to worry about in the afterlife, Rozina thought.
The emergence of that dark energy could have been an unfortunate coincidence, then again, its creator may have been privy to the fact that she was dying. So it could have been their intent to steal it once she bit the dust. It was pretty much impossible now, the dagger was gone, and she had no idea where it was.
She should have foreseen the danger. The spell had sapped what was left of her energy, a haggard pant wheezing from her lips. Something sweet would take the edge off. You had to maintain proper sugar levels and stay hydrated. Magic could be draining, even for the most skilled. Consider it a staple for practitioners of the elemental craft to have a generous supply of Gatorade or pitchers of lemonade readily on hand, and maybe a couple candy stashes.
Ever have your instincts screaming at you that something was amiss? It was a gut instinct that emanated sorrow and serenity. Rozina felt whispers of despair tangled with contentment as she lay in bed. It was confusing. Two opposing emotions meshed together in perfect harmony, it was disconcerting.
Clarity sprung from the depths of her soul. She understood. Once she drifted off, this was the end of her story.
Her daughter stopped by to check on Rozina to see how annoyed she was about the party the family threw. Clovera found Rozina’s lifeless body that morning, a humble smile adorning her softened featured. In her last moments, she did what had to be done. She had kept Lapisera’s Dagger from enemy hands.
The South Pacific Ocean
A solitary fisherman gazed up at the midnight sky, catching a glimpse of a blue streak of light descending rapidly from the heavens. He prayed for good luck, and a bountiful trip.
31
Present Day – Pearl Harbor – Honolulu, Hawaii
Acquiring Lapisera’s Dagger from the ocean’s depths had been tedious, oh yeah, and was on the brink of becoming deadly. Had our lady in pursuit been a better marksman, one or both of us could be dead right now. The battle wasn’t over yet. Raising Azulyria from its watery prison had yet to be accomplished. Once Jared and I made it back to our hotel, I was hopeful that the answer would lie with the old book that started this search and recovery mission.
The bustling streets of the downtown area made it easy to get lost in a crowd long enough to blend in with all the other starry-eyed tourists who came for paradise. Even at a late hour, folks clad in floral button-up shirts and strands of lei glided up and down the boardwalks, while others popped in and out of cafes. Luck had stayed on our side. We managed to sneak away from the beach undiscovered by the security guard we encountered earlier.
Maliya was buzzing around the room in a fit of nerves, nervously ducking and soaring in sporadic intervals. Aww, did she actually care about my safety? Probably not, but I wasn’t going to start an argument over it. As part of our truce I was supposed to be less bitchy where she was concerned.
“You’re back in one piece I see. Did you get it?” She asked pointedly. Again I pulled down the zipper of my wetsuit to reveal the sheathed dagger tucked in place between my breasts and swimsuit.
“It was a bit of a challenge, but yeah, sure did.” I replied with a spark of pride. Removing the dagger from my chest, I held it up so she could examine it.
“Oh, it’s simply charming. And look at the tiny blue stones in the hilt˗˗˗I’ve never seen gems like that before.” She flew in for a closer look.
“They kind of resemble Lapis Lazuli with the gold veins and all, but the swirls of purple rule out that classification.”
I shoved my hand into my pocket, and the smoothness of t
he rock Jared gave me brushed my fingertips. A short gasp preceded the dawning recollection of our mid-flight conversation. The ornamentation on the dagger’s hilt held a less refined texture than the charm in my possession, but the similarities were striking.
“The stones in the hilt are made from Tauruliem,” Jared broke in with a name I had heard once before. “It is a mineral that was integral to many aspects of Stone Walker life and culture.” His tone was wistful. This dagger was yet another reminder of everything he had lost since he had to flee from his home.
I had to distract him. It tore me up to see Jared trapped in a pit of despair. “On the bright side, we have the dagger, which means that woman chasing us doesn’t.”
Visions of auburn hair consumed my thoughts. She wanted the dagger, presumably to stop us from saving Azulyria, and yet her evasion tactics were some of the best I had ever encountered. I asked again if any new developments had occurred.
“Hey Jared, you got the same glimpse that I did, do you know who she is yet?”
“I’m sorry Alex, but I don’t.”
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Darn it, I struck out again. Maybe my persistence wasn’t helping.
“We should worry about it. Her identity could help us stop her.” He was adamant.
“That would be great, except that I think that restoring Azulyria should be our top priority, don’t you?”
“Yes, but˗˗˗”
“No buts, we need to act. I bet that old book I got from Erika’s condo has the answers we need to move forward.”
The leathery volume still retained the same musty odor as when I opened it for the first time. Vellum pages decorated with ornate headings and fading ink were smooth beneath my fingertips as I thumbed through sections until I found the desired chapter. It had caught my eye before, now it could be the key to restoring Azulyria back to its former magnificence.
Ah, here we go, Magical Mishaps. That was the understatement of the century. Sinking an entire island nation, that was a catastrophe of epic proportions.
Let me see, we have ingredient miscalculations, unsuitable substitutions, mispronunciations, and misjudged weather conditions. Dammit, I didn’t see anything about reversing an island sinking spell. Sure, there were antidotes and incantations for basic screw-ups, but those would be of little use to us.
Further down the page, a paragraph marked Advanced gave me hope, until I actually read it and promptly wanted to throw the book across the room. The instructions read “practitioner’s discretion: only custom spells can be performed to reverse that which has been created outside of established doctrine.” So if you decide to give free-styling a go and muck it up, you better be able to whip up a counter spell to fix the damage should any occur.
This was another topic they didn’t teach at the bureau˗˗˗Spell Casting 101. So if I’m not misreading this book, then it looks like it’s up to me to put together an incantation, and not cause an earthquake in the process. I wonder, does it have to rhyme, or can I just wing it with a bunch of random nonsense? Better yet, scratch that, half-assing anything related to magic would be begging for trouble.
At the very bottom edge of the page, it appeared as someone had scrawled in a list of suggestions for crafting a decent spell. Number two jumped out. Spells are impacted by energy and locations of symbolic importance˗˗˗craft your spell with that in mind.
A hunch surfaced. “If I can pull up a map, would you be able to navigate us to where Azulyria is?” I directed my question at Jared. Hell, if I was going to let’s say resurrect a sunken island nation back from the ocean’s depths, the site of its demise would provide an ample source of energy for the purpose of stringing a few words together. It would give the spell the fuel it needed to be successful.
“Roughly, give or take a few miles. Remember that I was a small child at the time of the sinking, and I wasn’t too keen on consulting historical documents when I got older either. I didn’t want to relive the pain of losing my home.”
“Is there anything you can recollect that would give me a sense of distance?” His eyes scrunched up in concentration with the intention of sifting through traumatic childhood memories. Icy blue pools turned to me in resignation.
“It took about three days by boat to reach the place I came to know as Hawaii.”
“That’s a good start, how about orientation?”
“I recall gazing at the rising sun, and having to partially shield my face against my mother’s shoulder.”
“So your trajectory was in more of a northeasterly angle by my calculations. I can work with that.”
I would have to figure out the average speed of a hand propelled boat, while taking into account for breaks and exhaustion. Adrenaline could only push you so far. We could be working from scratch, so I was grateful for this tidbit. Cases on my watch had been solved with less. Resolving them always added an extra pep to my step.
“You plan on locating the site where Azulyria sunk I take it.” Jared was wary.
“It’s the only way I see this ending in celebration. The author of this book, Lapisera I presume, inscribed some well-documented advice that I plan on taking. Azulyria is where the original spell was cast, so returning to the scene of the crime will give us the added connection˗˗˗conducive of me whipping up a spell worthy of bringing it back to the surface.”
“Write a spell, you?” Mirth warmed his features.
“Yes me. I am after all carrying around the power of a queen around inside of me. You should be more respectful. I’m doing this for your homeland.” A dramatically different glint regarded me then, one of gratitude and longing.
The future of Azulyria was resting on my shoulders. That future would most likely include another donation of blood too, because why not, did it once already. It was the basis of many rituals across various cultures, which seemed to be a common denominator when you compared them.
Jared’s insights spliced together with several internet searches gave me a rough area of where Azulyria was hidden, plus or minus a couple of miles that is. I imported the coordinates into my phone for safekeeping. I assumed a spatial variance could be forgiven by the elemental powers that be.
Gassed up and final preparations checked off, the boat we chartered, with its clean trim and state of the art motor, roared to life. My obtained data points were programmed into the fancy GPS system, a ping appearing on the digital map. We wouldn’t be reduced to hand paddling, modern technology would see to that burden. At best, we were looking at about twelve hours or less. The boat sliced through the water at a decent clip.
There wasn’t a time deadline per se, just the ever present threat of our auburn mystery woman sniffing out our trail before I even have a chance to perform a spell not yet written. I had a couple of ideas bouncing around my head, nothing really solid that would suffice. The pressure must be getting to me. Take a deep breath Alex, you can do this. If I could present a lecture in front of a room full of fellow FBI agents, I could throw together a nation saving spell.
Bobbing and weaving against the dancing waves, rocking up and down, the boat pistoned forward past the midway point. Soon we would be at the spot where Azulyria would once again be alive and thriving. Instead of rising from the ashes, it would break past the water’s gleaming surface like a mighty giant roused from a long slumber. That’s if my spell does the trick, and doesn’t miserably backfire in my face.
Late afternoon was fading into nightfall, with each stroke of the clock adding to my restlessness. Crumpled yellow pages from a legal pad lay in front of me, defaced by erratic lines from where my spell writing came up stale. Even when I thought it didn’t sound half bad, my lack of confidence reared its ugly head and dismissed my ideas as garbage. It’s quite frustrating when there was a sense of urgency lurking in the back of your mind.
A search for inspiration brought me from the confining cabin below deck, but instead of striking gold, all I got for my troubles was the stirrings of a killer headache. The darkened sky bl
ended with the vast ocean waves, creating a midnight canvas that seemed to swallow and snuff out all existing sources of light. A shift in the air to my right offered comfort when I so badly needed it.
“You look like you’re about to hit something.” Jared spoke, soothing and teasingly. It was a welcome distraction to occupy myself with.
“As much as that might help, I don’t think violently expressing my frustration is going to spark my creativity,” I said, only half convinced.
“May I make a different suggestion then?”
“Go for it.”
“Stop thinking so hard and look into your heart.” That was so like Jared to want to solve an intellectual quandary with a soul diving mission.
“And if looking into my heart lets you down, then what am I supposed to do? Next you’ll be telling me to go meditate somewhere.” His eyes rose at that one, as if contemplating.
“Only if I thought it would help. If all else fails, we’ll try some other tactic. We won’t give up just because our current attempt didn’t pan out.”
“I’ll try then, but no promises.”
“I couldn’t ask for anything else,” he said putting on a brilliant smile. Complete trust and devotion shone with his words. “Some rest might help too.”
“You go ahead. I’ll be down shortly.” He gave me an incredulous arching of his eyebrows, challenging me. “I will. I promise. Now skedaddle so that I can finish clearing my head.”
“Fine, but if you’re not down in thirty minutes. . .”
“Okay, I get it. You’ll drag me kicking and screaming.”
“I would prefer that it doesn’t come down to that˗˗˗a little forceful persuasion, maybe.”
Threads of Blood and Silk: The stone Wielder's Legacy Trilogy Book 2 Page 15