by Laura Tree
Chapter 46
“The plans are in place for our exit. Of course it depends on you getting out tomorrow. I just want to prepare you for our departure. I know it’s going to be hard for you to leave here, but we need to get to a safer, low key sanctuary to plan our attack,” Damien says. He and Zeke are pacing the floor.
I reach for my glass of water, and Damien stumbles to grab it for me, knocking it all over the ground with his nerves.
“I’m not helpless, you know. I can make it to the bathroom on my own, so I think I can handle getting my own water glass.” I don’t mean to be so harsh, but I’m sick of being treated like an invalid. I’m very thankful for all that they have done for me, but I’m ready to be back to normal. A girl can only take so much doting.
“I’m sorry; let me get a towel to clean this up.” Damien leaves as Zeke approaches.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on him. He’s been riddled with guilt for the last week,” Zeke says.
“I never thought I would hear you defending Damien.” I don’t know why I am on edge. I just want things to get back to normal.
“What’s wrong, Layla? You haven’t been yourself lately,” Zeke says.
“I’m just sick of being treated like a little kid who can’t tie her own shoes. I’m better. In another day I will be back to normal. I don’t need you guys to wait on me hand and foot.” My frustration is coming through.
“Are you sure that’s all?” Zeke asks. Damn him for being so understanding and seeing through my lies.
It takes me a moment to admit the truth. “I’m not ready to go. I have come to think of this place as home, and I have friends here. Heck, I would consider you guys my family. I’m not ready to leave it all behind and start over. Since I found out I’m a Suppliant, my world has been turned upside down. This is the first time that it has begun to level out. I’m not ready to let that go yet.” I try to hold back the tears.
“I know.” He reaches for my hand. “We wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t have to. This place is supposed to be safe, and your safety is our biggest concern. Try to understand where we’re coming from. We don’t want to stir up things either.” He’s trying to be kind.
“I understand. I’m just emotional and not ready yet,” I say. The door opens, and Damien enters with a few towels and a fresh glass of ice water.
“Zeke, would you mind getting me a coffee?” I ask. I do want a coffee, but I also want a few minutes alone with Damien.
“Sure, I’ll be right back,” he says.
“Damien, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.” I try to grab his hand, but he’s moving at lightning speed to clean up the spill.
“It’s fine. You’re under a lot of stress right now.” Always understanding, that’s my Damien.
“No, I shouldn’t take out my frustration on you. It was not your fault. None of it was. You were just trying to help me, and I bit your head off. Please forgive me,” I say. That stops him.
“You’re already forgiven.” He finishes straightening up and comes to sit on the edge of the bed. I take his hand.
“Thank you for taking care of me. I can always count on you.” My smile is mirrored by his. I can see the desperation in his eyes. He thought he had lost me again. It must be taking a toll on his emotions.
The kiss is soft and gentle on my forehead. It’s a reminder that he’s always going to be there for me. It will help to remember that when I don’t want to leave. No matter where I go, I will always have him and Zeke.
“I know that you aren’t ready to leave, but we have to. You are so much stronger than when we got here, and your strength is going to help you complete your mission. Just think about why you are doing this; it should help ease the pain of leaving.” He’s trying to soothe my feelings.
When Zeke comes back with my beloved coffee, the boys leave with a promise to visit again soon.
...
The next couple of days are packed with time alone. The only visitors are Damien, Zeke, the nurse, and the physical therapist. I’m cleared to resume normal daily activity on my eighth day in the clinic. I have come to love the nurse that’s on my case, but I’m so very happy to get back to my dorm.
I have the rest of the day to relax before classes start back up for me tomorrow. I decide to take the time to go see the Shaman.
Since security has been beefed up on The Isle, Damien and Zeke aren’t as paranoid of keeping tabs on me at all time. They are especially busy doing security sweeps, so I’m free to come and go for the rest of the evening.
The Shaman opens the door in his usual attire. It’s like nothing has changed since our last visit.
“Ahh, my favorite Suppliant, and all alone I see.” He presents a smile and steps aside. “How can I be of service?” he questions, closing the door.
“I’m here to ask you about my father. I was recently administered a test of skills. I have a list of skills that I exhibit and would like your opinion on them,” I say.
I hand over the list and take a look around as he examines it. A potion shelf catches my eye. It holds a potion like the one in my necklace. If I play my cards right, I might be able to discover what it will do.
“It seems you are more talented than I anticipated.” He points to the list. “What is it that I can do for you?”
“Based on the list of skills I’m trying to narrow down who my father was. I know that skills are hereditary, and I know which skills my mother likely possessed. If you flip over the list you will see the breakdown.” It takes him a moment to analyze.
“You would like to know what type of magical creature sired you. Wouldn’t that spoil all of the fun, and eliminate the need for the Pendant?” I can’t tell if he’s being serious. It hasn’t crossed my mind that he might not help me. Damien said that the Shaman doesn’t work for either side, but often does things that will benefit him.
“Is there something that you would like me to do in return for your opinion?” I know that I could be getting in over my head, but I’m desperate.
“I might be willing to make a trade. I would like for you to owe me a favor. One of my choosing, when the time comes.” That sounds a little ominous. I’m not sure I want to be indebted to him for a favor.
At the same time, I am desperate for any information that he might have, or I wouldn’t have come to visit him.
“All right, that sounds fair, a favor for a favor. So what can you tell me?” I hope this favor doesn’t come back to bite me in the butt.
“The skill of portal creation is the most telling skill on this list. Portal creation is a much--coveted skill. It is rare to see it at such a young age. Mostly only highly trained Wizards develop this skill, and it takes thousands of years. There are currently only two living Wizards who hold this skill: Mazar and Laklan. If I had to guess at your heritage, it would be one of them.” He seems so positive.
“Of course, having a Wizard as a parent could explain some of the skills, but not all. You see, some skills are not hereditary in Wizards; they are learned skills. You could possibly develop other skills in the future that you’re not mature enough to master yet.” He pauses for a moment of contemplation.
“Or it could be that someone is masking your true skills to throw you off the trail of your true heritage. It’s not that uncommon, especially in cases such as yours. It could be that your birth parents want to remain a secret to you and have hired a Wizard to project skills onto you.”
“Is that possible? It just seems so out there. Why would my parents do that to me?” I’m utterly confused. Just a minute ago he was so sure of his initial assessment, and now, it’s all back up in the air.
“It’s definitely possible. Like I said, this has been the case before. Your birth parents may be just desperate enough to stay hidden that they have hired someone. It could also be someone trying to keep you from discovering your true heritage, someone who is not your birth parent,” he says.
“Who would want to
make sure that I couldn’t find my birth parents?” My mind is reeling with all of the possibilities.
“That is for you to discover. I wish I could help you with that, but I can’t.” The Shaman makes a quick note in his journal.
“What about the portal creation? How can I use it?”
“It’s a very dangerous skill to have untrained. You need to be careful. I cannot recommend use until you have the proper training. It takes Wizards thousands of years to master such a skill. Attempting to use it untrained can get you into serious trouble. It could kill you, or worse, banish you to the Geroda Realm. Once in Geroda, your physical body will die, and you will not be able to return. Only the Council has the power to return from Geroda.”
This news is grave coming from him. It seems like a useless skill until I master it, and I don’t have thousands of years to train on it.
“I can’t risk that right now; it seems that this skill is useless to me at the moment,” I say.
“A wise choice you made, my dear Suppliant.” The Shaman opens a drawer in his desk and pulls out a small piece of jewelry.
“This is a gift for you. I want you to have it for protection.” He hands me the stone wrapped in metal. It’s small, the size of a pearl.
“What is it?” I don’t mean to sound ungrateful.
“It’s a sunstone; there are only a few in existence. Place it on your finger.”
I lay the stone on top of my finger, and it begins moving. It forms a ring with an intricate design. The stone is a burnt orange color. It’s cloudy like the sunset. It’s beautiful.
“It will protect you as long as you wear it. Make sure not to take it off. It was designed so the user is the only one who can remove it, for better protection. Its power is not as great as your Protectors, but it will benefit you.” I blush; I wasn’t expecting a present. I know that it’s superficial of me to be so caught up on the beauty of the ring, but I can’t help it.
“Thank you kindly, Shaman.” I am so caught up in the ring that when I’m back in the dorm, I realize that I forgot to ask about the potion.
...
It’s as if everything is back to normal the next day, although I know differently. Damien warned me that the time was drawing near that I would leave The Isle forever.
I take it upon myself to say goodbye to Trish without tipping her off.
“So, what are you planning on doing this afternoon?” Trish takes a bite of her usual salad. I sit directly across from her at our lunch table, relishing the shade on this hot summer day.
“I really don’t have plans yet. I will probably be getting caught up on my missed classes.” I try to make it sound like I’m preoccupied because we will probably be leaving soon. The last thing I want is Trish looking for me.
“I suppose that’s a valid ditch excuse.” Leave it to Trish to see through my fib.
“I got really far behind while I was in the clinic.” I try to reason.
“I saw the pile of books, but figured they were there because you are an overachieving bookworm; I guess I will let it slide.” Her smile is brilliant.
“Hey Trish, I wanted to thank you again for coming to see me. It really made me feel better. It means a lot that you are so supportive of me. I am lucky to have the GQ as a BFF.” I try to make it sound light, but we both feel the weight of my goodbye.
“Don’t mention it; besides, that’s what friends are for.” I’m really going to miss her.