Dark Weaver (Weaver Series)

by Dena Nicotra

  Below me tons of weavers were going on with their lives, weaving, and doing who knows what while I was locked away like some freak of nature. I’d dreamed of finding acceptance amongst these people, and even here I was considered a freak. I allowed myself to flop on the bed and really cry. I cried first for a love I thought I’d had and then I cried selfishly for the loss of my abilities, because they had been such a part of me. Then I cried for being an outcast. The hatred that the crowd had for me was palatable. Granted, I hadn’t heard anyone’s thoughts, and I couldn’t read a thing, but I knew they hated me. I also knew that when they eventually sent me home I’d be unable to help a single soul. I could only pray that they would strip me of all of my memories of ever being a weaver before they sent me home. If they ever sent me home that is.

  ***

  I guess I fell asleep at some point because when I opened my eyes again someone was shaking my shoulder. I was vaguely aware that it was still dark but my mind hadn’t registered my circumstances. “Kalan,” I muttered.

  “Nope, sorry to disappoint love, I’m not Kalan.”

  I sat up abruptly. Kess grinned at me in the dark.

  “Did I ever tell you how sexy you are when you’re sleeping?” He whispered in my ear. His warm breath on my skin sent a shiver down my spine, but I pushed him away.

  “Stop it Kess, that’s not funny!”

  “Who said I was trying to be funny?”

  “How’d you get in here?” I demanded.

  He shrugged, “I’m a weaver love, and I can be any place I want to be.”

  “Don’t rub it in,” I grumbled.

  “You are way too tense, how bout I rub your shoulders instead?” he said as he reached behind me. The moment he touched me I got that fluttery feeling in my stomach. The warmth of his hands combined with the gentle way he touched me felt like a thousand volts of electricity. Instinctively I fought those feelings

  “Thanks, but that’s not helping,” I said and pulled away from his touch. I didn’t want to feel like that. Especially not with him. He shrugged his shoulders. “Just trying to help,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “If you really want to help, get me out of here,” I snapped, and crossed my arms. He clicked on a small lamp that sat on the table next to the bed. The soft light reminded me of home, which only made me more depressed. “One thing at a time. Here,” he said, and handed me a tall glass of sweet tea. I took the glass and gulped the contents gratefully. I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was. Come to think of it, I hadn’t eaten a thing either. As quickly as I had the thought, a plate with roasted chicken and mashed potatoes appeared in front of me on the comforter of the bed. It smelled way too good to resist. I grabbed the fork and took a small bite. I was still angry with him, actually with everyone but my stomach demanded attention. I ate in silence as Kessler sat on the edge of the bed watching me. He handed me a napkin when I finished, and weaved the plate away. “Better now?” he asked softly.

  “My stomach is, but not the rest of me,” I said, and wiped my mouth. How could I be better? Absolutely nothing was okay right now. Nothing was right, nothing was normal, and I doubted if it ever would be again.

  “It will be,” he said softly. This only served to infuriate me.

  “So what Kess, did they send you in here to collect more information from me? Oh, and I guess now that I can’t block, you can do that pretty easily, can’t you? Do you not realize that I have nothing left to give? You know what, why don’t you just go,” I said, pointing my finger at the door and glaring at him. He pushed my hand down and gave me that annoying grin of his.

  “You never were very good at blocking, but that’s beside the point. To answer your question, no one sent me. In fact, they’d likely be rather agitated to learn I was in here with you. You don’t understand the severity of your situation love. You uhm…need me,” he added timidly.

  “Uhmph, that’ll be the day. I don’t need you. I don’t need anyone here. I just want to go home, so unless you can make that happen, leave me alone.”

  “You need to rest now. I’ll be back.” He leaned forward, taking my face in his warm hands. “For now, take this kiss upon your little brow.” He said, and kissed me on the forehead. He was gone faster than I could slap his hands away. Left alone, I clicked off the little lamp and curled into a fetal position. Stupid men, I thought to myself…and then I cried myself to sleep again.

  When morning came, I noticed that there was a suitcase sitting on the floor just inside the door. Someone must have brought it in while I was sleeping. I crossed the room and sat on the floor to open it. The neatly folded clothes inside were my own. How nice of Kalan, I thought sardonically. I selected a pair of white cotton shorts and a matching t-shirt, grabbed my cosmetic bag, and went into the bathroom to freshen up. My game plan was this simple: get it together, and find a way to get out of here.

  To my surprise, the bathroom was extremely small. The shower stall would never be big enough for a man. I had difficulty washing my hair, and cursed as I bumped my elbows on the walls. Since weavers can create elaborate settings, I assumed that my humble quarters were deliberate. I shut the water off, and dried off with the small towel I was provided. I guess it’s better than a cave, I thought and then quickly shifted my thoughts to other things. If I was being monitored (which I felt sure I was), I definitely didn’t want to give them any ideas.

  Once I was dressed and had carefully returned all of my things to the suitcase, I tried the door handle. It was locked from the outside, as I’d feared. I went to the window and tried to open it, but that wasn’t working either. Besides, the ground was way too far down. I peered at the people below for a while and that was an interesting way to pass the time. I watched a horse pulling a buggy get spooked by one of those egg-shaped hover cars, and laughed to myself at some of the outfits people wore. It looked like a giant costume party out there. Upon closer inspection, I guessed that the glass buildings were not actually made of glass. The surfaces were not entirely smooth and jagged pieces stuck out from the tops. Crystal, I realized. The street below was cobblestone, but off in the distance I could see what looked like a regular freeway. It was a million points in time holding hands, and it was beautiful. I understood it completely and a new sense of grief filled my soul. I’d never truly been a part of this world at all.

  Before the tears could come again, I pulled the curtain closed and stomped over to the door. At first, I just wrestled with the handle again. When that didn’t work, I started banging my fists on the door, and kicking it. Then I started yelling. “Somebody let me out of here! You can’t keep me locked in this room!” All at once that female voice that had greeted us on the glass block filled the room, “You will remain calm, and refrain from outbursts immediately.” She sounded computer generated, and I figured it was coming through a speaker somewhere. I balled my fists and shouted at the ceiling, “You’d better open this damn door lady!” I really had no idea what sort of threat I could add to the end of that statement so I just added, “Right this damn minute!”

  The door to my room slid open and the little troll/miner man stepped in. I backed up until my back was against the wall. He was a strange looking little man with eyes the color of dried straw. I didn’t know what he intended to do to me, but I braced for the worst.

  “Whoa there little filly!” His small hands were raised as he stepped closer. “You just need to simmer down some now, you listening to me?” I shook my head.

  “No sir, I will not simmer down. I want to go home, and I want to go home right now!”

  “Look, that flat ain’t gonna happen so you may as well hush yer trap and tough this out. What do you think, you can just bang on that door and make a ruckus without consequences?” He laughed revealing tobacco stained teeth, and his stomach jiggled. He was a repulsive little character and the mention of consequences didn’t sound like an idle threat. My throat felt suddenly very dry.

  “Listen mister, —“

  “Digger.”


  “What?”

  “The name’s Digger.”

  “Listen Digger, I’m not a criminal, and I just want to go home. How long are you going to keep me here? You haven’t even given me anything to eat or drink.”

  “Well now, that’s just an innocent oversight. Everyone here can just weave what they need. I’ll getcha something right now, what sounds good?” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them back and forth in anticipation of my answer.

  “I would like a cheeseburger and fries from Bubba’s in Dempsey Arkansas, and I’d like to eat it there,” I said sarcastically.

  He laughed again, which sounded like “He-hee-heee!” I turned my eyes away to avoid seeing those nasty teeth again. Unfortunately, I looked down at his feet and was appalled to see that he wore no shoes. His long toes were hairy and disgusting. “Hell, I know they’re not pretty, but they ain’t that bad.” I found myself blushing as it occurred to me that he could read me like an open book now that I couldn’t block. I was embarrassed, but too angry to apologize. My manners had their limits I guess. “I’ve got corns. Shoes hurt my feet,” he stated, and wiggled his toes. As if this revelation justified matters.

  “I just want to go home Mr. Digger.”

  “Now I see why Prince Kalan was so irritated with you. You’re an annoying little thing on top of being a thief.” He shook his head and made a tisk sound with his tongue.

  “I’m not a thief, and he didn’t seem to find me annoying when he was with me.” Great, here came the water works again. Just thinking about Kalan faking his feelings for me hurt to my very core. He’d been pretty good at it too. Digger stepped forward and handed me a cloth handkerchief. I took it and blotted at my eyes. I hadn’t meant to burst into tears again and wasn’t happy with myself for doing it. I mopped my tears, blew my nose, and tried to hand it back to him.

  “No, you keep it. I can weave another,” he said with a cheery smile.

  “Why don’t you just weave your corns away?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

  He waddled toward the table, his right hand moving like a little flipper for balance. “Done that, they just come back anyway. Get over here girly and eat yer burger.” A bag from Bubba’s sat on the little table under the window alongside a large fountain drink. I reached into the bag and pulled out my cheeseburger and noticed a second beneath it. “I can’t eat two of them Mr. Digger.”

  “It’s just plain old Digger, ain’t no need to add the ‘Mr.’ to the front of it. That just makes me feel old, and I am. The other un’s mine.” He hopped up on the chair opposite me and unwrapped his burger, and then he reached out with one hand for a fountain drink of his own – which materialized simultaneously as he put his mouth to the straw. I didn’t really want to eat a meal with him, but I wasn’t going to let a good Bubba burger go to waste either. I was thankful that I couldn’t see his nasty feet. Digger’s manners weren’t much better. He talked with his mouth full and bits of food stuck in his beard. I tried to concentrate on my own food before I lost my appetite entirely.

  “Thank you for the food Digger. May I ask you a question?”

  “I don’t know,” he said between chomps.

  “You mean you don’t know if I can ask you a question?”

  “No, I mean I don’t know when you’ll get to go home. That was your question wasn’t it?” Indeed it was. I had to remind myself that he could read me ahead of time. I got another idea, and just as I opened my mouth to ask it, he said, “You won’t like the answer to that.”

  I frowned at him and watched as he licked his fingers. “You’re right about one thing, that’s a dern good hamburger.” I took a sip of my soda and tried to remain patient. There was no point in my asking again because he knew what I wanted to know. “Chloe is going to see you next. It’s her job to gather the history of your treadlings,” he said cautiously.

  “That doesn’t answer my question Digger.”

  “He weaved the discarded bag and wrappers away and then stood up to leave.

  “Digger, please. I can’t see anything coming, and you can’t imagine how frightening that is. I realize I’m not like everyone else here and that you all look down on me, but I still have feelings.” I was pleading and my voice was starting to crack. He stopped at the door and turned around to face me.

  “Yes, it’s going to hurt, but it won’t kill ya, and as for not being like everybody else – well, I understand that too.” I looked down at his feet, and then back up to his eyes. There was something tender there for the briefest of moments and then he said, “Take care,” before sliding the door closed behind him.

  Chloe was going to be coming to see me. At least I knew who would visit me next. I wasn’t able to take much comfort in that though because of the answer he had given on my other question. I’d asked if they were going to hurt me and he’d answered honestly. Whatever was in store for me, it didn’t look good and my anxiety level was rising quickly. I ran into the bathroom and lost my burger. Weak and trembling, I struggled to wash my face and brush my teeth before the room started to spin violently. Oh my God, that troll had put something in my food! This realization hit me just as my head hit the floor. Chloe had little regard for my condition when she tossed a cup of cold water on me as I lay there on the floor. I pushed myself up and coughed which caused my throat to burn intensely.

  “Could I get a cup of water please?” My interrogator ignored my request and pulled me up by the forearm.

  “You will get up, and follow me now.” I grabbed the counter to steady myself because the room was still spinning which made Chloe come in and out of focus. Her lips were painted a fire engine red and seemed to be the only aspect I could focus on.

  “I’m not feeling well, please give me a moment.” I heard her grunt in disagreement, and the next thing I knew I was sitting in some sort of dentist chair in a white room that smelled of antiseptics.

  “Are you a mender?” I asked feebly.

  “Of course not, and what would you need with a mender? You’re not a weaver anymore, nor will you ever be again.” Her voice had a strange accent, proper and condescending all combined. I swallowed hard, my throat was burning and my tongue felt like sandpaper.

  “Then what are you, and where are we?” I asked, realizing my arms were strapped down. There was a tray in front of me, which contained several strange looking objects and the more I looked around the harder my heart began to pound in my chest. She wasn’t answering my questions. She was busy clicking buttons on a large monitor and then she poured blue liquid from a glass bottle into a strange looking tube. I followed the liquid as it swirled around, down, down, and into my arm. “No…..please,” my voice was so weak I wasn’t sure if she even heard me but my eyes were suddenly too heavy and I stopped caring.

  I was back at my bayou, feet in the water and it was so cool. Kalan was in the distance walking toward me. The sun was just going down casting a beautiful backlight on him which made him look more like an angel than a man. I smiled and waited for him to reach me, but he never did. Everything shifted and I was in a boat with my papaw on the bayou. He was explaining how ill my mamaw was and then I was walking with him in the cotton field. I felt every emotion he felt in a rush before I was drifting again. This time fixing my family’s finances, then I was kissing my horse on the nose. Images began to whoosh by faster than my mind could recognize them followed by blackness. Voices zoomed in and out — sometimes too slow, sometimes too fast. A rush of white light brought me to an image of a little girl running in front of me at the airport, hot coffee on my legs, a swimming pool…Lela chanting in some foreign language. Images shifted to Kalan, followed by Kess saying “Concentrate Joey. When you don’t want me to read you, you need to block with separate thought threads.” Images shifted to the car accident. My eyes flew open at the sound of someone screaming and then I realized it was my own voice. Chloe was moving images around on the large monitors suspended like holograms in front of her and then she turned in her rolling chair to face m
e. “Well, you were a busy little weaver weren’t you?” Sweat had drenched the front of my t-shirt and my hair was matted to my forehead. My head was pounding so hard and my vision was doubling everything in the room.

  “I did…what…I thought was right,” I managed in a whisper.

  “The only thing you did right was restore Prince Kalan.” She turned to push more buttons and I was drowning in memories again. I felt my body convulsing as another stream of images appeared. Lela in the cave, Pepper’s face with blood coming from her nose and ears. This shifted to the beach and a little boy pointing at the ice-cream sign, then blackness and my screaming again. I opened my eyes and jerked my arms in the straps.

  “Please stop!” I shouted, but Chloe acted like she didn’t hear me at all. “Segments are missing,” she said, but not to me. I realized that Torvin was standing behind her looking at the monitor and shaking his head.

  “Keep trying, we need everything,” he said with a grunt. Chloe said something I couldn’t hear, and then they both stepped out of the room. I tried again to free my arms, but it was no use. Those straps weren’t budging. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could stand this. My breathing was erratic and my heartbeat wasn’t much better. I remembered Digger saying it would hurt, but it wouldn’t kill me. I prayed he was telling the truth just before I passed out.

  I awoke to the sound of a spoon tinkling in a cup. The room was dimly lit, but I could make out a shape behind a curtain.

  “Hello?” I croaked. The curtain slid back and a tall woman with short, curly hair approached my bed holding a china cup. “Drink this,” she said. I rolled my head away from her. I’d be damned if I was going to take any more of their psycho medicines so that they could force me to slide back down the rabbit hole. “It isn’t medicine, it’s just herbal tea, to help your throat,” she said to coax me. I turned my head to look at her, wishing desperately that I could read her thoughts so that I could be sure. Her eyes were difficult to read in the dimness of the room, though I could see that she was smiling. My throat was still burning and the tea would be nice.