by Aya Walksfar
The pain morphed into a hot lance and speared through me. I jackknifed and fell from the chair onto the floor. Curled into a fetal ball, I pressed my hands hard against the sides of my head. Still the pounding ratcheted higher.
A roar filled my ears. Thick darkness closed over my mind. I fought to suck in a breath. The air scalded my nostrils and burned my lungs as if it had been tainted with gold fumes. A scream tried to push out. The sound got trapped in my throat. Consciousness struggled to push from beneath a cloak of black. Little by little, the flailing of my conscious mind grew weaker. A vortex of black swirled around me; pulled me into an endless void.
****
Maniacal laughter boomed all around. “Well, well, look who has come to visit.” A male’s voice taunted from my left.
I jerked toward the sound, yet the blackness was unrelieved; not even an outline of another being.
“Leave her alone. It wasn’t her fault,” a female’s voice ordered from somewhere to my right.
I whirled and stared, but could see nothing--just a black, blank void.
“Oh, stop excusing her,” a harsh older voice chimed in. “She’s a Vampire for Goddess’ sakes! She did what Vampires do--murder.”
This time I didn’t bother to look for the speaker.
Something brushed my hair. I flinched and twisted to look behind. No one.
“I told you I would haunt you, bitch.” A sharp poke in my side.
I jumped away.
Another sharp poke, harder this time, and on the opposite side.
I jumped again. Something warm trickled down my side. Blood. My blood.
A gaggle of voices like the noise of a disturbed chicken coup shouted from the void.
“Kill her!”
“Hurt her!”
“Hit her again!”
Over and over, shouts for my destruction boiled out of the blackness, eating at me like acid. Over and over, slaps and punches; something sliced me; stabbed me. No place to get away. No way to fight back.
Helpless.
As helpless as I had been in that dungeon all those years ago. I sunk to the unseen ground; folded in around myself.
No one to hear my cries; no one to hear my screams. No one to stop the cruel laughter that mocked my pain.
“Serena....” Alexis called from the void.
I raised my head only to be struck in the face. Blood spurted from my nose. I ducked my face back into my arms. A foot kicked me in the side; a rib cracked.
“Serena....where are you?”
A wild hope flared in my chest. I raised my head. Hands and fists shot out of the blackness, hitting, slapping, punching. My eyes began to swell. Blood dripped from my mouth. Still I held my head up and called out, “I'm here! Over here! Help me!”
A cruel whisper hissed in my ear, “She can’t help you, bitch. She belongs to the Light; you belong to the Dark.”
Despair snatched away my breath as I crumpled into a heap.
“Serena...” Alexis kept calling, but her voice faded farther and farther away until she abandoned me. Just like all the others had.
Chapter 24
Alexis Night Runner
I blinked, rolled over, and propped myself up on an elbow then puked. Kira held the bucket beneath my mouth as I heaved. Done, I flopped back on the cool wood floor. Cedar and sage hung in the still air.
An arm flung over my eyes blocked out the dim candlelight. The pounding in my head felt like a party of construction workers playing with their jackhammers. My stomach roiled, but this time I succeeded in swallowing the bile down. Progress. I’d take it.
Aware that the headache wouldn’t stop anytime real soon, I uncovered my eyes, squinted and struggled to a sitting position.
Patrice sat across from me within the circle of cedar. The elderly woman glanced up and behind me. “You may open the circle now, Sheena.”
Sheena carefully snuffed out the seven candles around the circle then hurriedly gathered the cedar branches that formed the circle and placed them reverently in the fireplace. The flames flared bright yellow and red-orange with the added fuel. Next, she prepared a smudge bowl and meticulously smudged Patrice and then me.
Once the smudging had been performed, Kira knelt behind me.
I caught her hand and twisted to look back at her. “You don’t have to do this. You’ve been working all day and you have to be exhausted.”
She closed her eyes and a warm smile lit her face. “Tabitha has been teaching me how to accept Energy from other sources, so I don’t drain myself, or the sources.”
Brow crinkled, I asked, “Tabitha?”
Kira gave a nod as she kneaded my shoulder muscles. “She’s the youngest of the Seven and wears a forest green robe when she works. She works with Earth Magic.”
“She can teach you, even though you’re a huvam instead of a witch?”
Kira moved her fingers up onto my neck. “Huvam and witch healing magic sometimes closely resemble each other. We’re working with the commonalities.”
“Yeah, me and Hawk Flying are doing that, too, even though I’m human.” Sheena took the smudge bowl over to the fireplace and emptied the charred contents onto the smoldering logs.
“Is Hawk Flying the really petite woman who wore the dusty brown robe?” I asked.
“That’s her. Her genetics keeps her slender and small, like a hawk. At least, that’s what she told me. She does Wind Magic. Wind Magic has a lot in common with things like my ability to sometimes tell if someone is lying. Hawk Flying says the breath that the words emerge from the mouth upon, is the wind of the soul. That’s why I can tune in to it.”
As the tension eased out of my neck, shoulders and back, some of my energy returned. Kira dropped her hands and stood. “I think that should help you, Captain. You were just really tired. Whatever kind of journey you took must have been a tough one.”
I stood and stretched. “Not too bad. Pretty much on par with racing to the top of Mount Everest.”
Patrice flowed to her feet and accepted the cup of tea Tabitha handed to her.
“Okay, I am officially jealous,” I grinned at the older woman as she stood up. “I clamber to my feet like I'm a hundred and two-years-old and you just hop right up.” I accepted the cup of tea pressed into my hand. The smell of peppermint and some other herb wafted up from the steaming cup.
“Let’s all be seated on something more comfortable than the floor.” Patrice led the way to the plush couches and generous chairs arranged to facilitate conversations. She sank into the plump cushions of one chair. “I appreciate the compliment, Alexis, but I have to confess that when I was as young as you are to your power, I, too, often groaned my way back onto my feet.”
The rattle of a serving cart entered the room. As tea and scones were passed around, I noted that the young witches, who had come to observe, quietly found seats to one side of the group while those witches and huvams who had assisted during my attempt to reach Serena found seats closer to either Patrice or me.
Patrice chuckled. “I can see you calculating how you can use even what you learn from our Teaching Circles with your Warriors.”
I grinned in reply. “I can use all the help I can get in making things more efficient.”
“Those who are wise,” Patrice said, “will always seek to learn. That is why we call them wise.”
Tabitha entered the room and settled on a chair near Kira. After pouring herself a cup of tea, she turned to the huvam. “How was it?”
Pleasure radiated from Kira’s face. “Just like you said.” She pointed to the plants that occupied every spot not needed for walking or furnishings. “They aren’t even wilted. That is the first time I’ve pulled Energy from living plants and didn’t kill them.”
Tabitha patted Kira’s shoulder. “We’ll talk some more after supper.”
Patrice turned inquisitive eyes on me. “Tell us about your journey.”
“Unfortunately, there isn’t much to tell. I entered the Cold-Between. Like the last
time I went there--when I searched for Kira--I felt weightless. The blackness seemed infinite. The cold felt crisp and clean and smelled like new snow. There was a low humming noise that filled my head like...like Power singing to me.” Awe filled my heart.
“At first I didn’t see anything then the pinpricks of light started filling up the black. Just like last time, some of the lights wavered and flickered like they were candles in a stiff breeze and might go out at any second. I didn’t see any poof out, though; not like I did last time.” I fell silent, gathering my thoughts.
“The big difference between this time and last time was a road right in front of my feet. I began walking along it, calling for Serena. After a while, I felt someone’s Presence and I stopped and looked around.” I gave a nervous chuckle, recalling the spooky feeling of knowing someone was present, yet being unable to see anyone.
“At first, I couldn’t tell if the Presence meant to harm me, or to help me, or was just there. Does that make sense?” I turned puzzled eyes to the elder witch.
Patrice nodded. “Yes, when dealing with Spirits it is not always easy to tell how they will interact with the living. How did you finally decide?”
“The first Presence I felt seemed malicious, but the malice wasn’t directed at me. Then I felt several other Presences. Some felt angry while others felt vengeful.” Sympathy welled up inside me. “A couple of them gave off a feeling of deep sadness and yearning, like they’d lost someone they had really loved. Even when I moved and I could feel them noticing me, none of the emotions felt directed toward me.”
Eyes locked on the far wall, my mind focused on the Cold-Between. “Then I felt Serena; I felt her on a deeper level than just her Spirit. I felt her...Soul. Is that possible, Patrice?”
The older woman pursed her lips and considered the question. “There is great debate in the wider world about what is Soul and what is Spirit. I will tell you what I believe and what many Supernaturals believe.
“We believe that Soul is the Spark of Life. It was Gifted by Great Goddess or by one of the Goddesses. It infuses everything--humans, Supernaturals, animals, the plants and trees; and the very earth we live upon.” She stopped and sipped her tea, affording her listeners time to grasp her words.
“Spirit is the interface between Body and Soul. It is Spirit that evolves through lifetimes of being reincarnated until it reaches the highest level of its evolution. At that time, the Spirit may become part of the Higher Developed Soul and choose not to reincarnate. Some highly developed Spirits may choose to reincarnate as Walk Ins.”
“Whoa!” I yelped. “Walk Ins? No, no, let’s not go there. That’s a metaphysical discussion for another time, okay?”
Tabitha grinned widely. “Don’t ever ask for a simple metaphysical answer from Patrice. This is her obsession.”
“I see. If I understand correctly, Soul is what moves on, regardless; and, Spirit is what may or may not move on, depending.”
Patrice’s eyebrows sunk low over her eyes. “Yes, I suppose you could simplify it that way.”
“Good.” Noticing the disappointment clear on Patrice’s face, I added, “I really would like to talk about this more in-depth, just not right now.”
A soft, forgiving smile graced her face. “I understand, Alexis.” She cleared her throat. “In magic, as in all things really, what we call possible and impossible often bears little resemblance to what is real. I would venture to say that even though I have never heard of anyone feeling another person’s Soul--usually it is another’s Spirit that they feel--that it is possible.”
“Don’t ask me how I knew it was Serena’s Soul; I simply did.”
“Love frequently gives us insight into our loved ones that nothing else can,” Tabitha quietly spoke into the brief silence.
“There was a darkness--a greasy feeling darkness--streaking her Soul, but deep inside was a golden spark. I called her name and the golden spark flared.” I spread my hands wide. “Then I woke up back in the circle.”
Elbow propped on the chair arm, the elder rested her chin on her loosely fisted hand; a thoughtful expression on her wrinkled face. “You have a deep connection with Serena, Alexis, and it survives in spite of whatever darkness has overtaken her Spirit and now tries to consume her Soul. You also call to the good in her, which is why the spark flared whenever you called her name.”
Hunched forward, arms on my thighs, hope infused my words for the first time in weeks. “Does that mean that there really is a chance we can heal her?”
“I don’t know, Alexis. You said the darkness has started to throw tentacles onto her Soul. We still don’t even know how to destroy the darkness that coats her Spirit. Until the darkness is destroyed, it will continue to grow and to smother the light within her.”
The weight of doom pressed down on my shoulders. “What you’re saying is, if we can’t find a way to cure her soon, she’ll become a creature of the dark forever. Her Soul will be consigned to the Dark, even though her damaged Spirit will reincarnate.”
The elder gave a sorrowful dip of her head. “Yes, and if the Dark overcomes her Soul, whether her body lives or dies will not matter.”
****
Rain poured from a gunmetal gray sky the next day, rivulets running into my eyes and blinding me just as the sword swept out of nowhere. I barely had time to fling my blade up to deflect the oncoming weapon.
A quick squat and a sweep of my leg took my opponent’s legs out from under her. With an audible splat, she splashed into a mud puddle. The woman bounded back to her feet and swung again. I blocked the sweep of her blade, knocked it aside and then thrust for the woman’s abdomen. The tip of the sword hit the leather armor with a loud thump.
A grunt exploded from her mouth. Her sword thudded to the wet ground as she grabbed her stomach and bent over. “Crap, Captain! That hurt!”
I dropped the tip of my wooden sword against the mud. “It was meant to hurt, Aife. You’re getting too cocky, and that could cost you your head.” I headed for the rain barrel at the side of the slapped together barracks. “Enough for today. Go study vampires with Ariel.”
I dipped water over my head, my body, and especially my feet to sluice away the mud before entering the barracks. It might not be much, but the witches had lent it to the Warriors and the refugees from the estate for the duration. Wanton Sally Mae—one such refugee—prided herself on keeping our makeshift home clean and all of us well fed.
Ri had sent a message by panther that she was coming for dinner that evening at Patrice’s. She wanted to talk to the witch elder and to me. More refugees were accompanying her back to the compound-- one of whom had barely survived being savaged by Serena, and two huvams just coming into their Powers. So far, Patrice’s People had proven able to assist the huvams’ transition into Power and none had died.
I walked the length of the barracks. Soon another withdrawal from my overseas account would need to be made. I dare not chance using my local account. By now, Serena might have engaged someone able to pinpoint my location through the bank. With all of my needs taken care of by the estate, there hadn’t been much call over the years to use my own funds, except to build my island home. Now those funds supported my newly-formed Alliance for Artemis.
Muddy clothes dropped into a waiting hamper beside the locker room doorway, I continued past rows of metal lockers. It reminded me of high school, the couple of years that I had been able to attend. A large communal shower opened off the locker room. Steam rolled out of the door-less entrance and voices echoed off the tile walls and floor.
Good thing I got over my modesty issues once I regained all of my memories. I snagged my favorite scentless oatmeal shampoo and scentless oatmeal soap then headed in for a shower.
****
Ri arrived in panther form. Apparently, deciding to stir the newbies up a bit, she gave a panther scream. She slunk through the open door, acting exactly like a wild panther. I winked at her then yelled, “Panther in the barracks!” Barely biting back a gr
in, I leapt up on a nearby bed.
Two new wantons bolted for the nearest closet and barely got the door shut before a growl rumbled out of Ri’s chest. Aife snatched up a sword and whirled to face the wild animal.
Not wanting Ri’s skin shredded over a joke, I hopped off the bed and started for the young woman. Before I made it to the girl, the last wanton to arrive--a girl of sixteen who seemed composed of skin and bones and not much else--dove across the aisle and slammed into Aife. The sword skittered under a bed.
The wanton scooted under the bed, retrieved the sword and bounced to her feet. Aife stared at her, anger sparking her eyes into green fire. “That’s a wild animal, you citified fool! Give me that sword before it decides to make dinner out of one of us.”
With the immediate danger past, I stepped back. Between the Warriors gathering to watch the show and me, I felt confident we could reach the girls if another scuffle appeared imminent. I crossed my arms and watched the drama unfold.
“That cat isn’t going to hurt anyone.” The wanton held the tip of the sword steady, making it nearly impossible for Aife to rush her and grab the hilt.
“Didn’t you just hear that thing roar?” Aife screeched as she pointed at the black cat crouched behind the wanton, the tip of its thick tail flicking.
“That was not a sound signaling an attack. That was a call.”
Aife threw her hands into the air. “What’s the difference, Miss Smartass?”
“A call is a signal to its pride, to let its family know that it’s in the neighborhood.”
“Oh, great! It’s ringing the dinner bell.”
Tired of the standoff, I stepped over and took the sword before the girl could react. She whirled to face me, but kept a wary eye on Aife. “Come on, Captain Night Runner, you have to be smarter than hot shot over there. This cat just got turned around. If we leave it alone, it’ll leave pretty soon.”
I maintained a blank face. “I don’t think so. I believe it has come for dinner.”
Behind her Aife crowed, “See? I told you.”
Even as the wanton crouched into a street fighter’s stance, apparently fully prepared to fight in order to save the panther, Ri silently shifted. Biting back a smile, I said, “You might want to turn around and look at the kitty.”