by S. E. Akers
“Exactly. A world where all its souls feel a boundless bliss and are grateful for every moment they have. It’s one without anger, violence, or misery. Where no one suffers from hunger or greed. A place where even the mildest disease cannot exist . . . only health and happiness for every being.”
I hadn’t given much thought to the evils of our world with respect to all the illnesses out there (healing powers aside). But surely if our magical thoughts and actions could feed and trigger a three-headed, fire-breathing, and wing-flapping creature, then why couldn’t they flood humanity with diseases in the grand scheme of things? They could be just as crippling as any beast.
This display was only getting more depressing by the second. I postured my hand firmly on my hip, mainly to hoist my sinking shoulders. “So basically we’re all going straight to Hell,” I sighed.
“No,” Tanner assured with a caviler wave, whisking away the three panels. “Odds are it will come to us, first.”
Standing there mindlessly immobile, I watched the shadows within the cave swallow up all traces of his frame. Crap, I grumbled, now alarmingly alert, and then darted into the cavern after him, right on his heels. Anyone watching would have sworn my tail was on fire, but not the Amethyst Talisman’s. A coolness drove his postured strides. I wasn’t surprised. He’d had centuries to get acclimated to this possible calamity. But me? The probable chance of seeing that scene play out in my very own backyard left me feeling like someone about to start dodging fecal matter ready to shoot out of a whirling fan.
“How do we stop it?” I asked as we began our spiral down the cavern steps.
“Good and evil have coexisted throughout time. You can’t have one without the other, but you can limit the reach of its grasp,” Tanner assured. “That’s why it’s imperative we keep a close watch on The Veil. We can’t allow its borders to be breached again . . . at least not like they were before.”
“What happened?” Beatrix had revealed that the “lock” to this supernatural prison had been broken long ago, but she never mentioned any specifics.
Tanner stopped abruptly and turned to me with an unsettling glare. “A man,” he revealed. “A mere mortal man fueled by selfishness was trying to save someone he loved.” My mentor gave his head a shake and continued winding down the stairs. “In one careless act, he stole the Guardians’ four stones and ripped open a seam in the Veil. Almost all the monsters escaped.” A foul sigh boomed from his lungs. “Talk about the road to Hell being paved with good intentions — he wrote the book.”
“But The Veil is totally secure . . . now?” I questioned.
“As secure as it can be,” Tanner replied. “New creatures are constantly being spawned in The Darklands. That’s troubling enough. But the ones that have been there for centuries are always on the hunt for a way out. There’s always a breach to be found, no matter how strong one’s armor may seem.”
“Then how do we strengthen The Veil?” I asked, though I doubted my answer was about to come in the form of some sure-fire “How to Stop a Supernatural Apocalypse” instruction manual.
No “App” for that, I sulked with a sad mental sigh.
“We can’t right now . . . not without all four of the Guardian’s stones,” he explained. “The break in The Veil is why the Guardians chose to divvy their powers and deal them out over time. An immense part of their essences are entwined with it now, fortifying its magic and bridging the gap that was made. They couldn’t both stand guard over The Veil and track down all the monsters roaming free. Talismans were not only created to protect and heal humanity, but to banish the supernatural creatures here and make sure nothing could ever escape again. We’ve sent back thousands over the years, but far too many still remain. There are plenty more lurking in the shadows, desperate to stay in our world, with a taste for our blood and hungry for our souls.”
We came to a stop on what I thought was the seventh floor, maybe? All I knew for sure was that my stomach had kept pace with every twist and turn. And though I was truly grateful for the new upfront & honest Professor Grey, I had to admit his blasé tact downright sucked.
This would have sounded a heck of a lot sweeter coming from Bea, I reflected with a somber nod. She always did have a candied and colorful way of turning a mess of crap into a pristine pack of Crayolas.
Tanner held up his hand and issued a quick “snap”, pulling me out of my trance. “This way,” he instructed with a couple directed finger curls, motioning me down a long stone-clad hall.
I may have been more mobile, but my thoughts stagnated like a heavy thundercloud. Guilt had a lot to do with it. I’d truly never thought of myself as a bad person, though oddly enough, I sure felt like one right now. Not axe-murder bad, just white-liar bad, with extremely red palms. Thinking about the ones still hanging out there just kicked up even more remorse. I kind of wished he’d laid out the parameters of those “insignificant bad thoughts and actions”. Do they count as just one offense or rack up points the longer you let them go on? Seriously? How many monsters are we talkin’ here? Now knowing about this parallel realm and what results from the slightest wrong, I should have been the first one to come clean—down on my knees & hands clenched—but oh no. My mouth remained on lockdown. And I was the one who had to put these daggone things back in their cage! Tanner was right. How could revealing anything about The Darklands honestly prompt society to toe a tauter line?
The sound of our footsteps triggered another disturbing fact. Tanner could pick up on my emotions as easy as our present, echoing “clomps”. I ushered away as many woeful reflections as I could and clawed a path towards some much more pleasant thoughts. As bad as what they’d just been, I was actually surprised he didn’t make at least one little guilt-dig. He had to have sensed my angst blaring like a bullhorn. Then again, surely he must have had these same feelings about his past indiscretions when he’d received “the news”. I was simply grateful for his empathetic silence. The last thing I needed fanning the flames of my guilt-complex was an in-your-face, “What’s wrong, little girl?”
We finally came to a stop at an arched opening, framed by a pair of towering double doors. The five elemental symbols lay before me, carved into the bronze panels. I’d never felt even a twinge of nervousness any of the times I’d encountered them before, but I did now. All the lines looked deeper somehow and their grooves, no matter how organic or curved, scored my eyes like a serrated knife.
I jumped into a chest grab from a “creak” that screeched out when Tanner gave the handles a jerk. Crap… I tried to compose myself before he turned around, but sadly no luck.
My mentor gave my rigid frame a thorough sweep. “You look like the one needing oiled.”
“I’m fine,” I assured. “It’s just a—”
“A lot to take in,” Tanner interrupted, finishing my sentence perfectly.
“Yeah,” I nodded. “A lot.” The sympathy resonating from my mentor touched me. No matter how hard-hitting or teasing his façade could seem, it was this one look that could both ease all of my worries and inspirit my soul like cool water rushing over me. It was the kind of look that somehow finds a way to etch itself into your subconscious unknowingly — the angle of his diving widow’s peak, the soft furrow shading his brow, the grayish shade of lilac swirling in his eyes, and the wisp of an airy part separating those perfect mauve lips. This was always a side of the Amethyst Talisman I loved seeing. Hands down I would take it over his healing bliss any day of the week — just a tender, wordless expression that radiated compassion and hinted the hope of deeper feelings.
Tanner took my hand. “That’s why I’ll be here for you,” he assured in an unwavering rustle. “Every step of the way.”
My mouth brightened. His vow was unimportant; all the surety from his intentions pulsed from the fervent hold he had on my hand.
Tanner glanced into the room we were about to enter. “So tell me, Chosen One,” he began, “have you ever wondered why the Guardians placed their powers inside gemst
ones?”
I’d sensed a deviation coming from his waggish crack, but I would have never guessed this talking-point. “I’ve never really thought about it,” I admitted, shamelessly impassive.
My mentor had already started to head inside when my answer stopped him dead in his tracks. He turned to me in a whip. “Never?”
“No,” I repeated. I really hadn’t. I’d taken it at face value and accepted it as freely as “the sky is blue” and “the grass is green”. It was just another one of those “It is, what it is” kind of things. My hand flew up defensively. “Hey — I didn’t know until about ten minutes ago that wishing a bad dye-job would turn Charlotte’s hair green could serve as an appetizer for some horn-covered, fire-breathing beast,” I countered. “And I seem to remember more than a few questions I’ve run up both yours and Bea’s poles that never unfurled the first flag.”
“Fair enough,” Tanner acknowledged with a cross of his arms.
I could tell by the restraint tempering his lips that I’d made my point. His grin inevitably broke loose, prompting a victorious one of my own. Yeah, there may have even been a “HA!” that boomed in my head along with it.
“Well? Aren’t you the least bit curious?” he probed.
“Now I am,” I insisted.
Standing in the confines of the doorway, Tanner took a commanding step closer. His hands brushed back my hair and then trailed the silver chain around my neck down to the amethyst lying outside my blouse. A spark ignited within the stone as he lifted it off my chest.
“Because of their beauty,” he revealed in a soulful whisper. “Because no matter how rough and muddled a stone may be on the outside or how perfectly its facets dazzle from the most clear and striking hue, it’s what resides within its core that fuels its power . . . gives it its strength . . . and allows its grace to shine. Just like with humanity, true beauty is only found inside a heart that’s pure.” Tanner loosened his hold on my amethyst and with a graze as soft as a kitten’s caress positioned it perfectly back in the center of my chest. My breaths halted in one profound heave. At that precise moment, I honestly felt like he had sucked all the air right out of my lungs.
My handsome mentor’s gaze drifted up to mine. “That’s what makes anything truly beautiful. That’s what pleases our eyes and awakens our senses unknowingly. It’s what comforts our hearts . . . the unseen force that seduces our minds and ignites our souls.”
Our eyes remained locked while his fingers fanned through the length of my tresses. A sweet jolt rolled through my body as he stroked them down towards my shoulders. I swore I had to be glowing because the electricity I sensed flickering inside me was downright scintillating.
“Real beauty can’t exist without purpose,” he vowed, “and its presence bears a force that can never be denied.”
We stood silently exchanging impassioned looks. I knew why mine felt so intense, but the longer neither of us uttered so much as a sound, the more my insecurities questioned whether it was strictly the gist behind his words that had ignited the amped-up amethyst hue swirling in his irises. The intoxicating ache writhing inside me started to escalate and then from out of nowhere the feverish feeling wrenched a spot pulsing under my wrist. Our gaze broke when I gave the ruby cuff an easing twist to stifle the stabbing twinge. It was only for a second, but in that one measly blink what I’d seen burning in Tanner’s eyes had extinguished. Whatever had been fueling its source was now gone.
Damn.
CHAPTER 4
Luckily, a merciful distraction just happened to present itself when one of the rugged stone walls inside the room we were about to enter hailed my eyes like a sparkly, sun-kissed ray. I was starting to believe the cosmos and I had an unspoken agreement that for every letdown I was sideswiped with, something would crop up to divert my emotions—a solid from the Universe—and this was one of those blessed times.
I edged inside the narrow vaulted chamber, rapt in an escalating sense of wonder. A host of colorful and glowing cabochons lay embedded in the walls, lighting the entire scene like an endless skyscape of celestial stars. There were far too many to count, but each one captured my gaze with its own distinct and arousing aura. Some looked as shiny and flawless as buttons of glass, while others appeared as opaque as the dense stone they were mounted on. Their colors spanned every hue lining a rainbow, and their tones stretched from the whitest cloud in the palest sky to the darkest crevice hidden within the murkiest ocean bed. Their flush lent the room its only light; no other source was needed—no modern light fixtures or old world torches—simply because the stunning kaleidoscope cast such an immense amount of radiance throughout every inch of the room. Breathtaking. Dazzling. Like a toddler who’d just been shown their first Christmas tree, I was completely mesmerized.
“What you see are totems,” Tanner explained, his words piercing the tranquility reverberating all around. “Totems only contain a minute trace of a Talisman’s power, just enough to use them as a one-way line of communication.”
I turned to scan the opposite wall, equally amazed. “How many are there?”
“Seven-hundred twenty-three,” he answered. “You’ll become very acquainted with them while you’re here. Their placement along the walls isn’t random. All the stones are aligned by their hierarchy. As your steps increase, so do their abilities.”
Beatrix had gone over quite a few stones, but not this many, and definitely not the ones at the back of the line. I didn’t recognize any of them until a soft pink cabochon caught my eye. The Golden Topaz Talisman had touched on the morganite the day before she died. I felt just as captivated by the innocence of its color as I had that day, barely a blush of a peachy-pink tint, but its subdued splendor struck an evocative chord. Gently, I laid the tips of my fingers on its surface. Though the experience was nothing like when I’d first stumbled across the diamond wand, the stone emitted its own special vibe — overwhelmingly pure and boundless.
“This is a morganite,” I said confidently, though the forcefulness behind my declaration was mostly to stave off a few tears welling in my eyes.
Tanner sidled beside me. “That’s correct, though Mizu, the Talisman who reigns over it, felt the stone deserved a more discriminating name, so he dubbed it a nouvelle,” he revealed. “So don’t ever call it a morganite around him. He hates it.”
“Him?” was out of my mouth before I could stop myself. I mean really… It was just too prissy-pink to think of it being carved out of the hulking arm of some dude.
Tanner laughed. “I’m surprised at you . . . of all people. A lot of guys can pull off pink.”
I threw up my hands shamefully. “Sorry,” I apologized. Clearly this was a perfect example of what happens when one “assumes”; I just happened to be the glaring ass in the room. “I’ll be sure to keep that color in mind when the holidays roll around.”
“Don’t give it too much of a thought,” Tanner warned.
“You’re probably right,” I mused, still stroking the stone. “Pink with all that purple might bring out too much of your feminine side.”
A cringing slant shrouded his eyes. “Okay sexist, what do you know about the morganite?”
“It’s a water element,” I replied through my grin, “and it’s supposed to alleviate anxiety and stress.” I laughed out a smile. “Bea said its effects make a Valium seem like a drugstore Tylenol.”
“Also correct,” Tanner praised. “Is that um, all she told you about the morganite?”
I couldn’t help but notice the smile he was struggling to keep under wraps. “Yes,” I confirmed, suspiciously. “Does it have any other special powers?”
“Yes,” he answered, “but it’s an ability that’s more symbolic than healing.”
That was painfully cryptic. “Symbolic?” I questioned.
“Preventative,” Tanner clarified and lowered his head towards his chest, clearly amused by something.
My curiosity was shooting through the roof. “Don’t stop the tour now. Please continue
,” I requested.
His bottom lip rolled in slightly, now clamped by the weight of his thoughts. “All right,” Tanner finally agreed with a stout raise of his head. “It’s a stone that represents purity and virtue. That’s how it soothes all the anxiety and stress that torments a human’s soul, by flooding them with emotions that mimic the guise of untainted innocence. It makes a person feel boundless and carefree. That way, they’re able to see the world without limitations, especially its pressures, like they were looking at it through the eyes of a child.”
It sounded so sweet and soothing. My fingers continued to caress the face of the totem stone, mesmerized by its escalating glow. The more I rubbed, the more brilliant its core grew. Considering what I knew now, maybe this one had called out to me on purpose? I’d just had my rose-colored glasses ripped off; a part of me wanted the damn things back.
I happened to catch Tanner out of the corner of my eye, still obviously amused by something.
“What’s so funny?”
Tanner pointedly turned his head and began to walk off. “Shiloh, a morganite basically helps a person’s mind keep their integrity and innocence intact.”
“Okay,” I remarked. I really didn’t see what the big deal was.
“Fathers liked to give them to their daughters,” he elaborated, never looking back. “Not unlike the fashionable promise rings they slide on their fingers today.”
My hand flew off the taunting pink stone like a pair of live jumper cables was powering the heat of its supercharged glow. Why didn’t he just say it’s a daggone VIRGIN stone? I didn’t even look his way. It was one thing to form that theory from the bitchy-drunk rant I’d spewed down in Mexico, but to have some stone flash my sexual-status like a blinding neon sign you’d see cruising the Vegas Strip was way too embarrassing.
Ugh… I’m surprised the damn thing didn’t actually ignite! Desperate for a do-over, I headed towards the opposite wall and moved up the line. A vivid green peridot lay within arm’s reach. It gleamed with the same vigor as the morganite, but I wasn’t worried. From what I’d learned, this was a stone that helped usher in clarity — not chastity.