There was no flinching of the physical body, no signs of pain. There should have been. There should have been! With a roar of disbelief and fury, Hortra raised his fists and shook them.
::Goddamn you, Aria! You think you have escaped me by pulling this trick? Do you? You won’t escape me!:: With an abrupt movement, he dived down through the now empty darkness, and burst through into his own subconscious before re-emerging into his body.
"You won’t escape me!" he roared to the still figure on the bed. "You will never escape me!"
Whirling in a flurry of crimson cape, Hortra stormed from the room and made for the door at the end of the corridor. It slammed open before him, and as he entered the room, he snarled to the guard standing beside it, "No one is to disturb me, for any reason! If someone does, I’ll kill you--slowly!"
The door slammed shut behind him, and the guard raised a trembling hand to his sweaty face. Hortra would kill him. It hadn’t been a threat, but a promise. And the death wouldn’t be quick nor easy. He should know. He’d seen it done many times before to those who had displeased Hortra. If anyone entered the chamber beyond, it would be over his dead body. Literally.
In the chamber, Hortra swept past the long table that held bottles of various, hideous oddities. Nothing magical, but collected on his travels for his interest only. The chamber was bare except for the table and a large, crimson cushion that sat in the middle of the stone floor. In the side wall was a small window that looked out at the whirling, grey clouds that came storming in over the craggy peaks.
Kicking off his boots, Hortra dropped down onto the cushion and crossed his legs. The cloak settled around him in a crimson fall. Lifting the hood of the cloak, he pulled it over his head until it drooped down over his eyes. Resting his hands on his knees, he straightened his back and took several deep breaths, then closed his eyes.
::I’m coming for you, little sister. I’m going to find you and drag you back, and you’re going to be very, very sorry.::
~ * ~
"You’re sure you don’t want one of us with you?" Ephim queried.
"I’m sure. Beulah said no one was to disturb us." Sinya took a sip of the hot una Ephim had pushed into his hand as soon as he’d entered the dining cabin of the ship.
"But we could stand guard, right?" Franc stared worriedly at his captain.
"You could, but I don’t think it’s going to make any difference." Sinya grimaced and lowered the cup. "Hells bells, Ephim, what did you put in this?"
"Una, of course. Just the way you like it."
"Not strong enough to tear the hide off a crusty tavern wench!" Sinya plunked the mug down onto the bench.
Ephim grinned a little. "It’ll put hairs on that girly chest of yours, Cap’n."
"Just because I don’t wear an animal hide on my chest, like some I could mention," Sinya gave his friend’s own hairy, barrel-chest a pointed look, "Doesn’t mean my chest is girly."
"‘Course not." Ephim grinned wider.
"Back to this... thing," Franc said. "Are you going to be safe, Sinya?"
The amusement faded from Sinya. "Beulah ensures me I will be safe as long as I do what she tells me."
"Aye, but..."
"I know, you don’t trust her. But she’s the only hope for Wes that I know of. And she helped Reya, remember? Now if the Reeka warrior trusts her, I think we can."
"I guess." Franc sighed mournfully.
Sinya pushed away from the bench. "She says you can come inside the hut, but you’re not to touch or attempt to wake us. If you really feel you want to watch--"
Franc pulled a face. "No thanks. I’ll keep watch outside, scanning our surroundings on the radar."
"Same here," Ephim agreed. "I’ll just peek in at you now and again, make sure you and the lad are okay."
Sinya gave him a crooked grin.
Ephim hawed, hummed, and cleared his throat, then gave him a rude gesture with his middle finger.
Sinya laughed, clapped both his friends on the shoulders, then left the cabin.
Ephim and Franc looked at each other.
"I dunno." Ephim shook his head. "I hope this results in Wes being better."
"As Sinya said, the witch is the only one so far that has given us any hope." Franc shrugged. "And Sinya is our Cap’n, so what he says, goes."
Ephim grunted his agreement.
~ * ~
When Sinya entered the hut again, he immediately smelled a sweet, soft fragrance, that filled the air with a scent of tranquility. He could almost swear he felt his muscles relaxing, the tension seeping from his body. A faint music reached his ears, soft and light, but he didn’t know where it came from.
Beulah was still sitting on the other side of Wes, and she nodded to him as he resumed his chair. Taking a deep breath, she slowly held out her hands, and caught up in the solemness of the moment, Sinya took a deep breath himself and slowly reached out and took her small hands in his.
Then he saw the twinkle in her eyes. "What?"
She shook her head, a small smile showing at the corners of her lips.
A suspicion tugged at him, and he frowned. "Are you laughing at me?"
"Yes." She grinned openly. "I only took the deep breath to see what you’d do. You follow instructions very well."
"You mean the deep breath wasn’t necessary?" He didn’t know whether to be angry or... angry.
"Nor was the slow movement of the hands."
"Then why...? I told you I’d do whatever you said! There’s no need for tests--"
"Relax." She gave his hand a small squeeze, the amusement dancing in her eyes. "Life can be serious, Sinya, but you need to keep a grip on the lighter side of things."
"Lighter side? There is nothing light about this, Beulah. My brother--"
"I know. But what we are about to do is serious, very serious. There is nothing wrong in reminding ourselves what fun life can be."
"I don’t see the relevance between fun and what we’re going to do." He clenched his jaw.
"Do you not enjoy a joke before a fight, Sinya? When in the midst of battle, do you not laugh with your crew?"
"Well, yes, but--"
"We are going into territory unknown to you, and with something else unknown by me. A laugh can help us relax before we go into this. There may be no time to laugh after, so enjoy the moment while you can."
Sinya gazed across at her, his gaze captured by the bright blackness of her eyes. His own eyes were black, but hers were the darkness of the night, of all things that should be scary, yet humor still shone within them. Humor and intelligence and the wisdom of a million ages. He felt as though he could fall into her eyes and never find his way back out. Would I want to?
He blinked, the unexpected thought startling him, making him aware once more of his surroundings.
"Sorry," he said gruffly. "I’m just not used to laughing when it comes to my brother’s welfare."
"I understand." Beulah squeezed his hands lightly once more.
His gaze fell to the small hands clasped in his, and again he was amazed at the strength in the slender fingers. She spoke again, and he looked up at her.
"I want you to close your eyes and listen to my voice. Follow my instructions. Don’t fear the presence you will feel as you slip out of your subconscious. It is there to help you." Closing her eyes, she straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath.
Sinya was uncertain if he was supposed to take a deep breath as well.
She opened one eye and grinned. "Take the deep breath, Sinya."
He couldn’t help it. The amusement dancing in her eyes pulled his own sense of humor to the fore, and with a smile he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Immediately the scent made itself known more strongly, seeping into his senses, soothing his worries, calming his troubled thoughts. The music slid softly around the edges of his mind, a gentle caress to his senses.
Then Beulah’s voice came, steady, centering his thoughts. "Breathe deeply, slowly. One, two, three, four. Breathe
deeply, slowly. One, two, three, four. Hear my breaths, breathe with me. Breathe with me."
Unable to hear her breaths, he frowned, straining his ears to catch a sound.
"Don’t concentrate so hard, Sinya. Relax. Breathe. You will hear me soon, but don’t strain to hear me. Breathe deeply, slowly. One, two, three, four. Breathe deeply, slowly. Relax. Breathe. One, two, three, four."
With every breath he took, the soft scent seeped into him, filling his senses so that he almost felt as though he were starting to float inside himself.
Beulah’s voice seemed to fade a little, and he started in alarm. Immediately the music slipped away, the scent vanishing. His eyes snapped open in panic, and he found himself staring into Beulah’s calm face.
Aware he’d broken whatever she’d been doing, he swallowed. "I’m... I’m sorry."
"It’s all right, Sinya," she returned calmly. "What did you feel that alarmed you so?"
"I felt as though I were... floating." He also felt ridiculous admitting it.
"Good. Very good." She smiled. "You’re supposed to feel that way. You were getting ready to slip into the first layer of your subconscious."
"I screwed that up. I’m sorry, Beulah, I--"
"You’re learning well, Sinya. Let’s go again." Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.
Determined this time not to freak out, Sinya did the same. "I won’t let you down again."
"You could never let me down. Now, breathe deeply, slowly. One, two, three, four. Breathe deeply, slowly. One, two, three, four. Hear my breaths, breathe with me. Breathe with me."
Comforted a little by the fact that he now sort of knew what to expect, Sinya followed her instructions. The music crept back to touch his senses, and the sweet scent drifted through him. This time he allowed the witch’s voice to course through him, and suddenly he could hear it. Every breath he drew, he could hear her breath a heartbeat behind his. Unconsciously he sought to align his breathing with hers, and suddenly they were breathing in unison, slow and deep, and a sense of peace filled him.
He started to float, and he didn’t struggle against it this time. He was nervous, true, but he had faith in Beulah, feeling the strength of her very being in the grip of her hands, the soothing sound of her voice, the surety of her words. He floated, feeling almost light-headed, then as though he were pressing against the top of his head, not really a part of his body anymore.
"Do not be alarmed, Sinya, Petras is here to help you. Allow it’s presence, do not fight it. Petras will guide you through the layers of your subconscious and into Wes’s spiritual plane that dwells within his own subconscious. I am with you all the way, Sinya, I do not leave you. Feel my hand in yours, and fear not. Petras is one with me, therefore, one with you also at this time."
He felt it then, tendrils of seemingly nothingness wrapping firmly yet carefully around his body, holding him close to a presence that slowly began to draw him upward through layers of fog and whiteness, going deeper and deeper into something he’d never been aware of before now. The white fog was comforting, cloaking him in peace and serenity, and he was aware of going through layers, of things he’d once known, thoughts he’d filed carefully away in his mind, coming from the recesses to touch him fleetingly, before disappearing again as he broke through into yet another layer. Then suddenly he was out of his layers, and entering something alien in one way, yet familiar in another. The presence holding him disappeared.
Wes’s subconscious. He knew it immediately. There was the same white nothingness, but it had a slightly different feel. The feel of Wes. It was a comfort, yet also frightening, as he wondered if he really wanted to know exactly what Wes was hiding deep in the recesses of his subconscious. What fears, what powers, did his little brother hide from himself?
::We’re here.:: Beulah’s voice came from beside him, and immediately he became aware of her hand still clasped tightly in his.
::So I see.:: He was relieved to hear his own voice, then remembered that it was actually his thoughts he conversed with, rather than voice.
Turning his head, he looked to where Beulah was, and saw a faint white shape.
::Don’t worry, you’ll grow accustomed to seeing in Wes’s subconscious. If we were in your subconscious, you would see me straight away.:: Beulah gave his hand a tug. ::Come, let’s travel upward.::
As he followed Beulah, he asked, ::Will we see anything of what Wes is hiding from?::
::He’s hiding from himself, his powers,:: Beulah replied. ::We only see our own things. Being in Wes’s subconscious, we will see nothing of what is his. That’s the thing with our own spiritual planes--what they contain is solely our own, and no one else will ever see them. It’s our personal sanctuary, one that nothing and no one is supposed to be able to penetrate.::
::We’re in here,:: Sinya felt compelled to point out.
Beulah chuckled, and turned her face fleetingly toward him. He was able to make her features out dimly, and realized that he was slowly able to see her more clearly.
::Ah, but I’m not a normal person, am I, Sinya? Just ask Drake.:: Becoming serious once more, Beulah turned her face upward. ::As we venture into the higher planes, I want you to call your brother. Call him with every bit of love you have ever felt for him. He needs to feel you wanting him to return to the physical world.::
Without hesitation, Sinya started to call out. ::Wes! Wes, can you hear me? I’m here to take you back home with me, Wes.::
The fog whirled around them, dry and hiding secrets he couldn’t begin to even guess at.
::Wes! I’m here to help you! Beulah, the witch-woman, is here to help you, too. Together we can help you. Wes?::
They drifted into another plane, he could feel the subtle shift of the spiritual world, a little more intense.
::Wes? It’s me, Sinya! Your brother. I’m worried about you, Wes. Come home. Please?:: He swallowed the lump in his throat. ::I love you, little brother.::
::Love?:: The word resounded in his head, seeming to come from the side, but even before he turned to face the unknown speaker, he knew it wasn’t Wes. A chill ran through him.
::Child.:: Beulah stopped moving, and Sinya bumped lightly against her. ::This is the second time I have met you here.::
::So?:: The voice was belligerent, though it trembled as well. Defiant.
::This is not your place, child. Not for you.::
::It is not your place, either.::
::I am here for a reason. Why are you here?::
There was a brief silence, then a slow darkness edged out from the white fog, creeping forward a little before halting. Coldness crawled from it, a threat. ::I seek shelter.::
::From what?::
::That is not for you to know.:: The blackness crept forward a little more. ::Go away! We don’t need you here!::
::We?:: Beulah squeezed Sinya’s hand lightly. ::Who else is here, child?::
::The boy.::
Sinya glanced around eagerly, but couldn’t see his brother.
::Where is the boy?:: Beulah queried calmly.
The blackness rose up in a small wave, swelled, then subsided. There was no answer.
::Tell me where the boy is, child. This is his sanctuary, not yours. Is he hurt?
The boy has many hurts. I...::
When the voice trailed off, Sinya looked at Beulah. His brother was hurt? But he wasn’t game to say anything yet, afraid of losing contact with this... entity.
::You have spoken to him?:: Beulah asked.
::Yes.::
::And what did he say about you being here?::
The dark wave retreated into itself almost sullenly, like a small girl sulkily kicking at the ground.
::Answer me, child.::
Still there was silence.
::He did not want you here, did he?::
::Go away, or I’ll make you very sorry!::
::This place is not for you, child. Go back to your spiritual plane, your own sanctuary.::
::Go away!:: The black w
ave rose menacingly into the air, and the threat from it was tangible in the atmosphere.
Sinya wondered what the hell they could possibly do against something like this. It wasn’t as though they could rush it and bring it down to the ground.
::You can cause me no harm here, child.::
::I tore holes in your precious boy, witch! I tore holes in his spiritual body, when I didn’t mean to! I can do anything, I--::
::My God, Beulah!:: Sinya looked down frantically at her. ::Has she hurt Wes?::
::I don’t feel shards of him here. He is possibly whole again. Calm yourself, Sinya.:: Beulah looked at the black wave. ::Show yourself, child.::
::No. Go away, now! Before--::
::ARIA!::
The black wave froze, and the aura of threat turned to fear.
::Aria, you little bitch! Return to me now!::
::He’s here.:: The girl whimpered, the black wave falling in upon itself until it was a tiny blob.
::Who is here?:: Beulah glanced around the fog.
::He is most evil, this one. He seeks me to--::
::I am tracking you, Aria.:: The voice rumbled menacingly, tearing through the fog of tranquility that floated in the plane, sending it skittering around them. ::You will not escape me, little sister. I see you now. I am coming for you.::
::My God, Beulah, what is happening?:: Instinctively Sinya placed himself before her, shielding her from the threat he could feel coming closer. ::Who else is here?::
::I don’t know.:: She moved deftly around him to place herself by his side. ::It shouldn’t be possible. What we face is something I have no knowledge of. Petras!::
Immediately Sinya felt a tendril of nothingness trail over his shoulder. ::Yes, Beulah?::
::Take Sinya back to his body.::
Sinya snapped his head around to gape down at her. ::What? No!::
She didn’t look at him, keeping her gaze on the dark blob that skittered to the left and right, seeking a way to escape the oncoming threat. ::It is not safe for you here, Sinya. Petras will take you back to the physical world.::
::Will you be safe?:: He felt the tendrils of the witch’s familiar wrap around him, and started to struggle. ::Beulah?::
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