Oculus

by S. E. Akers

  “So the Onyx couldn’t get his greedy hands on it after he bound and banished her back beyond The Veil,” Tanner countered.

  Okay. I couldn’t argue with that. “That’s a good reason.”

  “Its magic still exists, scattered throughout every corner of the earth,” he assured. “We just have to forge another gaia stone, and I personally can’t wait. Releasing all of her Veil magic and allowing it to meld with what powers she already bestowed upon nature is solely responsible for the increase in witches. It’s been like watching addicts with no control and free reign. Their powers grow stronger every day, but their abuses must come to an end — as soon as possible. Some of them are dipping into The Darklands and pooling from its black magic without even realizing. It won’t be too long before some of their glutinous bellies explode.” Tanner grinned. “Though I wouldn’t mind seeing a few of them come to that end.”

  “How hard is it to forge another gaia stone?” Especially with no flesh left to hack into?

  “That’s the crux of the matter. Gaia foresaw her death centuries ago. Between her propensity to overthink situations and her incessant OCD planning, she intentionally left something behind so The Guild could recreate her stone.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Her grimoire,” Tanner revealed. “It contains the recipe for hatching another one.”

  That didn’t sound too bad. “Please tell me you have it?” The longer he remained silent, the more I prayed over and over, Say you have it… Say you have it… SAY YOU HAVE IT…

  “That I can’t do,” he finally acknowledged. “But Phin is personally in charge of the matter. If anyone knows where or how to locate it, it’s the Emerald Talisman.”

  “Good,” I sighed.

  “If he stays sober long enough,” Tanner remarked with a rueful roll of his eyes.

  I clamped my teeth together to keep my bottom lip from smacking the floor again. And now we’re back to “not good”…

  “You don’t need to concern yourself with the details, Shiloh. All you need to know is that there is a way. The only thing you should be worried about is the Onyx getting his hands on her grimoire first and attempting to do the same. He knows the sunstone is now in your possession. Dunamis already tried to secure Gaia’s stone once before. He won’t rest until he has the diamond and all four of the Guardians’ sacred stones. Then and only then, he can command all the elements and control the flow of The Veil. That paradise you saw on the triptych will cease to exist and rest assured all that carnage in the last scene will play out here on earth . . . under his reign.”

  The painting’s gruesome and gory images enveloped my mind with a stream of corrosive thoughts. The Darklands depicted a wasteland of pure death and destruction — a blood-red mushroom cloud full of savage monsters that wouldn’t stop their butchering until there was nothing left but bones and ash.

  “He would really turn our world into that?”

  “Shiloh, Dunamis spent centuries purging humans of their demons and equally as much time helping us put most of those creatures back in their cage. Each and every one of those beasts left their mark on him. That same evil he quelled runs in his veins. That’s why he needs souls . . . to grow his powers and keep him strong. The Veil his black heart craves isn’t just a border. It’s a fierce source of energy. It dictates the flow of magic in both realms, not just there, but here on earth as well. Whoever controls The Veil controls both worlds. This is why he can never be allowed to get his hands on your diamond or any of the four sacred stones. I know for a fact he’s been concentrating his efforts on mobilizing the evil already here and collecting human souls to use as his pawns. That’s troubling enough, but even my worst nightmares can’t fathom the degree of bloodshed tearing open The Veil would ultimately bring.”

  My head fell back in a fraught tip, feeling the heavy brunt of what destiny had plopped on my shoulders — the entire world, literally by way of two absent stones. Reality’s bite carried just as much weight as the gravity of the quandary at hand. “Lost” was one thing, but trying to whip up another gaia stone from scratch sure sounded like a scavenger-hunt for magic needles inside a supernatural haystack to me.

  Where’s that mystical monkey’s butt when you need it?

  With a resolute breath, I leveled my now clear-sighted gaze. “Well then . . . how do we get the monsters back to The Darklands, first?”

  The amethyst hue I spied swirling in my mentor’s eyes deepened into a shade fitting enough to stripe a battle flag. “It’s about time you asked that,” Tanner beamed and motioned his arm towards the door. “Come on.”

  I started to turn when I noticed one of the totems flickering, the one that represented the topaz and all its Talismans. The pink hue rolled into a series of rapid flashes until they finally came to a climax with an insanely bright burst of light. Then just like a snuffed out candle, the blinding glow extinguished on the spot. Not a second had passed before the same peony-pink color had re-emerged within the totem, boasting a much steadier and solid glow.

  “What does it mean when totems flash?” I asked as I stood there watching the topaz cloud into its next color.

  Tanner halted and spun around, now realizing I hadn’t been following him. “It flashed?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded and pointed to the totem in question. “The topaz did.” He joined me back at the stone marker. “It was flickering pink and then it flashed a bright light just before it went out . . . And then it ignited again, right before it shifted into blue.”

  My mentor and I waited patiently through the cycle of colors. When the peony-pink hue illuminated this time, the totem cast as steady of a glow as it had earlier, without the slightest hint of a quiver.

  Tanner scrutinized the topaz totem. “It’s not flickering now,” he remarked.

  “Well, it was,” I restated confidently. I wasn’t crazy. I knew what I’d just seen.

  A grin stretched across my mentor’s face, shining almost as bright as the totem and his mauve lips looking pretty near as pink.

  “So?” I posed. Surely it meant something, whether he believed me in this instance or not.

  Tanner placed his arm suavely around my back and steered me towards the door. “It just means their batteries are in need of a charge,” he stated and let out an amused laugh. “That’s all.”

  Well, it makes sense, I rationalized as we strolled out of the chamber. I imagined what mine might look like without my moonstone. My lips pulled into a tight pucker as a non-stop, flashing strobe light came to mind. The exhausting vision itself was enough to tire my eyes to a close.

  The two of us made our way back to the rugged stairwell and started our descent. We had just hit the thirteenth-floor landing when suddenly Silas popped out of my room.

  “Ah!” the house steward exclaimed. “There you are. I was just on my way to find you, Professor Grey. All finished.”

  Tanner extended a gracious nod. “Thank you, Silas.”

  What did he ‘finish’? Whatever task he’d completed, I felt certain it had something to do with the reason he was in MY ROOM. I grabbed hold of the handle in a huff. All I knew was that I had better not find another monster lurking in there!

  “Oh, and Ms. Wallace,” Silas called out, turning my head and halting my entry. “Please be more careful with your messes. I shan’t be around again.” He headed off up the stairs with his chest puffed out and nose high in the air. “Despite your preconceived notions regarding the scope of my domestic duties, I’m not the maid.”

  I threw open the door. No FREAKING way… To my complete shock, the entire bedroom looked as pristine as when I’d arrived yesterday. There wasn’t a busted piece of furniture to be found… No chunky remnants of foam or feathers littering the floor… The linens and upholstery didn’t bear the first scarring slice… Even all the broken knickknacks that were still scattered throughout the room when I’d left for breakfast this morning had been pieced back together and were sitting in their original spots. I picked up a daint
y china dish resting on one of the tables that sat beside the door. There wasn’t a glue seam to be found anywhere — not during any of the five passes I’d made! Did the two of them honestly expect me to believe they had spares of all this stuff just lying around? Even the sheetrock on the walls had been perfectly patched. I ran my hand down a spot where I knew my head had crashed into it. The damn paint wasn’t even wet.

  “What Silas lacks in personality, he makes up for in his duties around here,” Tanner bragged. “He’s very crafty.”

  “Oh, he is,” I muttered, my eyes practically burning a hole into the wall. “Now I see why you keep him around.”

  Human, MY ASS, howled in my head.

  Tanner casually leaned against the wall, right beside the very spot my glare had been singeing. “By the way,” he began. Both his voice and proximity snapped me out of my heated trance. “You never said if you liked your room.”

  Brow cocked, I threw out my arms and extended an overly beaming smile. “What’s not to like? It’s simply . . . magical,” I stressed and locked my arms at my sides.

  Tanner looked eager for me to take the bait—smug grin blazing—but I wouldn’t dream of giving him or Silas the satisfaction. Not even if it started raining missing Guardian stones.

  “You need to collect Beatrix’s topazes,” Tanner instructed and then headed towards the door. “I’ll be waiting outside.”

  I tapped one of my Asics on the hardwood floor for a brief moment, trying to figure out what sort of mystical mischief was afoot. Talismans controlled the elements, not the flippin’ aisles of Home Depot or even the pages of Elle Decor. Whatever the hands-of-the-house’s crafty secret was, clearly I wasn’t privy to it. Why would I be? I was more fun serving as the butt of the joke. Even worse, Tanner hadn’t willingly cleared the air about his employee yesterday… Or last night… Or this morning… Not even right now, with the evidence smacking me in the face… That let me know real quick that he thought it was just as cute. Granted, I was grateful for whatever force had helped with the clean-up, but I honestly hated the fact that I was being one-upped — especially by that handy pompous butt!

  Still in a huff, I headed to the stacked pile of cartons and crates that contained all of Bea’s magical paraphernalia. Fortunately, I didn’t have to shuffle through too many of the containers before I located her prized collection of stones. Box in hand, I charged towards the door to meet up with Prankster Number Two, but not before the curious little girl in me stopped in front of the armoire on a crazy impulse and threw open its doors. My eyes scoured its insides for any clues and secretly prayed a daggone elf didn’t jump out.

  I pulled the doors of the armoire to a resolute close. Oh, I’ll figure out what you are Silas, I vowed with an equally determined nod and a heated spin aimed towards the door.

  CHAPTER 5

  Whoever instituted the ten-second rule had never crossed paths with Tanner Grey. His staunch silence coupled with our footsteps was grating enough, but it didn’t come close to the galling shit-eaten grin I could feel plastered on his face — back turned & sight unseen. I tapped the box of topazes in the palm of my itchy hands, strictly to keep me from whacking him on the back of his head.

  Why the big secret? That’s what I couldn’t understand. Unless it was Silas who’d insisted his identity remain under wraps — probably just to get under my skin. My head swayed back and forth slowly like a wise old oak would, shaking off every last drop of gullible sap from its leaves.

  I swear, mark my words… I will NEVER ask him.

  Our next stop came several more levels down. I’d been too busy formulating theories about the house steward to have made an exact count. All I knew for sure was that we were much closer to the floor where I’d tangled with the chimera from last night. Surely Orientation-Day didn’t mean having to go back into the lion’s den this soon, although I knew it was slated on my supernatural syllabus somewhere — most likely inked in blood. Mine.

  A massive silver door stood before me. Though the stoutness of the metal slab couldn’t be denied, the scrollwork rolling throughout its surface softened the mighty boundary’s appearance, what with its embellishment of leafy vines twisting whimsically throughout a thicket of trees. An amethyst the size of a baseball rested inside a bronze medallion, serving as the mysterious barrier’s only lock.

  “Looks important,” I remarked with a directed nod. “If I knock, will anything growl back?”

  My mentor flashed an earthy grin. “No monsters. I swear.” He pointed to the amethyst. “Place your hands on the stone.”

  My head rocked into a skeptical tilt. “You know I can’t pick your magic lock.” Only the person who claimed the spelled stone could break its bounds. I’d learned that tried and true lesson the hard way — very hard, in fact.

  “We’re about to remedy that,” he said. “Lay your hands on it and surrender some of your energy to me.”

  Once I’d slid the slender box of topazes into the back pocket of my jeans, I turned to face the door and placed one of my hands over the purple gemstone somewhat uncertainly. Tanner maneuvered behind me and then guided my other one up to the amethyst cabochon. I sensed his energy swiftly coursing through me, tingling a path straight to the tips of my fingers. Between the intoxicating nature of his bliss and his arms cocooning my upper body, I could have melted right onto the floor if I hadn’t been focusing on my own energy so hard. Suddenly the amethyst sparked to life with a vehement swirling light and then the metal ring encasing it started to slowly turn clockwise. I backed up, closer against his chest, and then watched as the intertwined curly veins separated into two panels with the fluid grace of an unraveling spool of ribbon. As soon as the gemstone dial had completed one full turn, the doors cracked open with a revealing “pop” scoring the air.

  “There. Now it’s been spelled with the essence of your diamond, so it will sway to your command,” Tanner said. “You can always imprint a stone with another’s energy if you want to grant them access.” The Amethyst Talisman looked into my eyes with the most earnest gaze he’d ever hinted, like a profound revelation was about to cross his lips. “This room is very special to me. You’re actually the first person I’ve ever granted a key.”

  A flush toasted my cheeks and stoked them with warm tickles, which in turn sent my mind whirling with speculations like the wheels on a runaway train. I’d wanted to know more about Tanner for months, specifically about his past, but he stayed so adamantly mum about his true age and all of his experiences. What vague tidbits he did reveal were few and far between (nothing that would give too much away) and those were only offered up because I’d hounded him to death. A giddy feeling hoisted my lungs into a deep breath. With any luck, I was about to get a good dose of the ever-so guarded Professor Grey.

  I may have floated across the threshold with an eager delight lacing my smile, but the excitement that carried my flattered-frame was as short-lived as a lit match in a tornado. Now grounded, I could actually feel my facial muscles ballooning until my mouth formed a perfect, gaping O. Though the space didn’t yield the same hypnotic effects as the room lined with glowing totems or even came close to boggling my mind like seeing a wrecked bedroom pieced back together, it was the violent nature of the chamber’s contents that had left me speechless for more insinuating reasons than my nightmares could dream up. Fearsome-looking weapons and battle gear fanned throughout the room like a well-merchandised and heavily stocked department store for as far as my eyes could see. Bed, Bath, and blow your butt to the Great Beyond. In fact, this astonishing arsenal was even more anally arranged and sectioned off than my mentor’s collection upstairs — and those looked like toddler toys compared to these deadly devices. I made my way around the cache of weapons slowly, trying to take in as much as I could. Gleaming swords of all metals and makes were the first things to strike my retinas. Some were propped upright in ornate wooden displays, begging to be whipped out, while others rested comfortably in the notches of an endless row of shelves, patientl
y waiting their turn. A collection of robust-looking metal shields hung on the walls like priceless works of art. I traveled down the perfectly positioned line noting each one’s shape and size.

  Where in the heck have these been? And how come nobody has ever ponied up one of these handy sword-stoppers to me? I had to quickly turn away out of fear I would conjure up one mother of a naughty thought over that omission. Ugh… Countless suits of armor scattered about caught my eyes next, all standing erect and positioned like mannequins ready to jump into battle. Most of them were crafted of metal, but a handful of the ensembles were solely comprised of cloth. There were even a few stitched out of animal skins. If their blatant textures and patterns hadn’t given them away, their smell sure did when I strolled past. It was actually the stench of dead fish wafting from a suit fashioned from scales that had sent my nostrils flapping. Yuck. One of the hulking protective coverings hit a little too close to home. It bore a striking resemblance to the getup the Onyx had worn during our last bout. If I’d known Tanner held a stockpile of these things and had been privy to future events that evening, I would have marched right up to him and demanded a chain-mail prom dress to cover my hide. At least it would have fared a better chance of making it home in one-piece and Kara and I could have avoided looking like a set of twins from the neck down. I didn’t doubt for a second that a battle-axe similar to the one the black-eyed bastard had tormented me with was probably lying around here somewhere — or at the least, a close carving-cousin to it. I kept on course, weaving my astounded frame through what seemed like a never-ending, formidable maze. There was just so much to look at — too much for my shell-shocked head to absorb my first go-around. There were whips that coiled for days… Daggers, thin and wide… Spears that could skewer an elephant, trunk to tail… Bows sporting harrowing blades on the ends of their limbs and scores of quivers loaded with arrows boasting a medley of dicey tips… Razor-sharp throwing stars lying right alongside other wicked-looking thingamabobs. Now those little fellows would serve nicely to drive anyone’s “point” home… Rachael Ray could tenderize an entire army with the number of maces on display… There was even a scythe that would make the Grim Reaper bow and blush a few hues… And somewhat unexpectedly, several modern-looking gun-like contraptions lay in clear-crystal cases, all surrounded by an assortment of gemstone bullets. I couldn’t imagine the nasty wounds they would leave. And those were merely a select few out of the thousands of death instruments pummeling my sockets from all directions.