by S. E. Akers
Silas came trotting down the steps a few seconds later. “You called, Professor?”
“I did,” he confirmed. “Our guest seems to have run out of imp salve.”
“Oh my,” Silas puckered. “How dreadful those wounds must feel.”
My stare popped to his like the snap of a rubber band. Really? “I’ll live,” I cooed convincingly.
“Not to worry. There is more downstairs,” the house steward assured and started to head back up the steps.
“Could you be kind enough bring it to her,” Tanner requested firmly.
Silas halted mid-turn. “But of course,” he replied with a smile more strained than sweet. “Your wish is my command.”
Tanner turned straight to me. “You won’t run out again. I can promise you that.”
I’d never wanted to stick my tongue out so badly at someone as I did right now, but “The Code” prevented it. Then again “The Code” didn’t state that I couldn’t discreetly tuck my strands behind my ears with only my middle finger. No fine-print there.
Silas directed a subtle glare my way as he breezed past us and then headed on down the steps.
“And bring her moonstone while you’re at it,” Tanner instructed.
“Consider it done,” the house steward replied, never looking back.
Tanner followed me into my bedroom. He stared at my rumpled bed suspiciously. “Rough night?”
I plopped down onto the chaise, smiling innocently. “Not particularly.”
Desperate for a distraction, I picked up a book and started flipping through it, not wanting to incite any further chitchat while we waited on the house steward’s return. When something so trivial as the weather proved far too damning, I figured it was best to keep my trap shut in general.
I could feel Tanner staring at my wrists all heated, like an investigator processing a crime scene. “You know, Silas gives as good as he gets,” he warned.
I lowered the book and averted my thoughtful gaze. “Oh, I know,” I hummed, still stewing over those missing faucet handles.
Tanner sat down beside me. “He doesn’t hate you.”
I arched my brow. “Well, I wouldn’t call us Facebook-Friends.”
“So tell me . . .” Tanner began.
I sensed a serious question looming from his abrupt pause. “Tell you what?” I asked nonchalantly, pretending to read.
“Where did you hide the leaves and chairs?”
I turned to him, now more relaxed and my face shooting for deadpan. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied. “Maybe it was a couple of those magic elves that cleaned up my room?”
“Maybe,” he grinned. I started to dive back under the cover of my book when Tanner gently took it out of my hands and flipped it around to how it should have been propped — right-side up. “It reads better this way,” he assured with a suspicious gleam lighting his eyes.
I pressed my lips together. Well, shit…
Silas strolled into the room not a second too soon. “Here is the salve, as promised,” he announced and presented it to Tanner.
My mentor’s arm didn’t extend an inch. “Could you hand it to her?”
Silas tightened his jaw and then dropped the tin in my hands.
“Why, thank you, Silas,” I cooed sweetly.
“Oh, you are most welcome,” he purred, just as sugary. “And may I suggest a more sparing application from here on out? This is the last jar. It would pain me to know you’ve run out again. Might I suggest not laying it on so thick — for your sake?”
I had to give him credit for the boldness behind his warning, especially with Tanner already suspecting “the butler did it”.
“I’ll lay it on as thick as I need to,” I assured him, my stare looking as innocent and fixed as wide-eyed Kewpie doll.
Silas bounced me a grin. “Very well then,” he nodded. The house steward handed the chest to Tanner and then went strutting off on his merry way, probably to plot his next mischievous move. The blaring warning bells from Tanner’s doorknob alarm had already reached my threshold of irritating and now it appeared I was faced with possibly spelling my own daggone door with them too.
I laid the book beside me, dug my fingers into my temples, and began stroking out a solid loop of circles. Crap.
Tanner positioned the chest between us and gently raised the lid. There they were, my three long-lost pals. I couldn’t help marveling at them for a moment. The stones’ colors seemed richer for some reason and an unparalleled shine beamed from the metals around them. They looked like little angels with shiny halos. It seemed absence not only made the heart grow fonder, but needier as well. I could feel my eyes getting all swirly as I stared at the amethyst. I quickly grabbed my moonstone ring and pulled it out before any of my lingering fears had me caving to temptation. I didn’t want him knowing anything about that nightmare, and sadly, the only thing capable of bucking up my fretful-butt right now was a purple crystal housed merely inches away — the same one my stubborn pride had surrendered so rashly.
My eyes glazed with regret. Irony’s bite was just as bad as karma’s.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything else?” Tanner hinted.
I pried my gaze away from the box and quickly slipped the moonstone ring on my finger. “Nope,” I assured. “I’ve got everything I need right here.”
“Whatever you say,” he muttered.
Hearing the lid come to a close didn’t trounce a shred of my yearning and seeing him walk off with my treasure chest just made me want that daggone purple stone of his even more.
I slumped back against the wall. There goes My Precious…
After chastising myself with a couple of stout headbutts (courtesy of the wall behind me), I swiftly straightened myself up and inhaled the deepest of breaths. No. I don’t need it! I unscrewed the lid off the salve with several forceful twists. Get over it! It was JUST a crazy dream!
Crazy or not, the damn dream hovered in my thoughts like a storm cloud throughout all of my morning lessons, during lunch, and then followed me straight into my afternoon battle with Tanner. My sword never came close to even slicing his skin—which under no circumstances had ever happened before. So naturally he couldn’t help noticing that something seemed off.
“Do you want to postpone your bout?” Tanner asked as we were making our way down to the dungeon.
I stopped abruptly. “No,” I snapped. “Why should I postpone it?” Maybe I do have a big ol’ WUSS stamped on my forehead?
“You haven’t seemed the least bit focused today,” my mentor remarked. “Ninety percent of any victory manifests in your mind first. That’s all I’m saying.”
“How do you know I haven’t been playing it out in my head,” I countered. “You can’t read minds.”
He popped off a dry laugh. “I don’t have to. Your emotions are like a line of wet laundry — dripping in plain view.”
Any other time a crack like that would get a swift lob back, but not with his bullshit-meter working overtime. “Well, I am going in without my sword, as per your recommendation. Who wouldn’t be a little concerned?” Truth be told, I really wasn’t comfortable with that, not after getting swallowed whole the other day. I’d seen the radius of the balegore’s mouth. It could do it…and a heck of a lot quicker too.
His eyes studied me critically. “If you say so,” he shrugged and then waved open the balegore’s cell door.
Nah… He wasn’t the least bit convinced. I brooded behind him thinking of the next time I blew out my birthday candles. I truly wished there was something that blocked him from reading my emotions. That’s all I wanted. And I’d been looking really hard through all the books I’d read so far. Stones and spells could do everything else. There had to be something to keep him from seeing all of my sopping drawers hanging in the backyard.
I happened to be innocently looking at the back of his jeans when I spotted the leather pouch of sedative sticking out of his pocket. I maneuvered beside him. “Will l
ayria bark work on this one?”
“Yes,” he assured.
I grinned, acknowledging the nip of his reply. “Just checkin’.”
We hadn’t traveled far into the woodsy scene when a faint tremble coursed under our feet. The creature was on the move and could possibly be headed this way.
“What’s my plan of attack?” I asked, “seeing how my sword is on the No-Slice List.”
“I thought you already had a strategy worked out in your head?” he countered.
Regretfully I had nothing but a “busted” look shellacking my eyes.
“That’s what I thought,” he smirked. Tanner secured the oculus around my neck straightaway and then pointed up to the tops of the trees. “Aerial attack,” he directed. “So go on. Fly up there.”
The lids over my wide-eyes were the only things smacking the atmosphere. “FLY? I can lift things, but I’ve never actually tried flying.”
Tanner shifted into a taut stance. “Never?” he posed, looking genuinely surprised. “You haven’t practiced with Bea’s topaz at all?”
The tremors were picking up in intensity, so I felt my explanation should be short & sweet. I threw out my arms. “WHEN?” And I had my full list of what-I’d-been-doings prepared.
Tanner spotted some movement in the trees. He pointed to the top of a redwood. “Then climb — PLEASE,” he instructed and stepped behind one nearest him for cover. His head came poking out from behind it. “Invisibly would be equally as useful as speedy.”
I’d already disappeared before my hands wrapped around the trunk. Though I fended off a few flashbacks as I clambered up the rugged bark, I felt more at ease knowing I was scaling an actual tree this time instead of the skin covering some monster’s back. But the jury was still deliberating over whether or not this creature would take a stab at eating me. I wasn’t ruling it out.
“I can’t coach something I can’t see,” Tanner relayed telepathically.
I readjusted the golden veil to allow his peepers access. This was something else I regretted about not having my amethyst on me — the two-way communication it granted. But I still wasn’t asking for it.
I continued climbing until I reached a sturdy limb that looked high enough. Maybe ten or so feet above where the balegore’s head might hit? It wasn’t like I’d had time to stretch a tape measure up to its mug before. I spotted Tanner peeking out from behind the redwood. Since he was running this show, I locked my arms in a fold to wait for his lead.
“The plan is simple enough,” Tanner began. “You’re going to crawl out on that limb and take him by surprise. If luck’s on your side, the oculus might catch his gaze.”
I stared at him blankly. Is he kidding? My period pops up more than “fortune” does in a whole freaking year!
“Situations are only as difficult as you make them,” he assured. “Banishing creatures is more about brains than brawn. Trust me. It can be just that easy.”
Yes. What he’d said was true, but I was about to try out-braining a whole heck of a lot of approaching brawn. Brawn I couldn’t come close to matching. I hadn’t punched the first hole in Silas’ iron wall to date, and he was sending me in there to banish King Kong by simply outsmarting it or on a fortunate fluke? Ugh… I couldn’t hit good luck if I fell into a bucket of it, especially at times like this. I was honestly starting to think he enjoyed watching me get my butt kicked.
After a sobering shake of my head, I tucked the oculus under my shirt with a purposeful shove, putting my objections on record, and then compliantly headed onto what I deemed to be a daggone wooden plank.
Bit by bit, I inched along the swaying limb with all of my reservations riding shotgun. I could be up here for hours waiting for that thing to pass by. What makes him so sure I’m even in the right spot? He knows I can’t fly over to it. Jump, maybe?
I looked down to spy Silas casually making his way through the forest, headed towards us. This time dinner was attached to a rope. The house steward bent down and tapped a stake into the ground, allowing the feathery feast to strut and “bwalk” about.
I shook my head. Well, isn’t that convenient. I tightened my lips, trying to keep a lady-like lock on them. After all, who knows where karma would ferry me tonight if I happened to shoot down the loogie that was starting to pool in my mouth. It took a lot of willpower too. Trying not to feed Darkland’s creatures with naughty thoughts was really freaking hard, especially when I couldn’t have asked for a better position…or target.
Silas joined Tanner behind the redwood not a minute too soon. The vibrations were much stronger now, letting us know that the balegore had heard its dinner calling and was heading this way. A cluster of trees started shaking roughly fifty feet away. I spotted its mussy black tendrils poking out above the treetops first, and then the girth of its red-tinged arms came jutting through the brush. Before I knew it, the mountainous creature had completely emerged from behind the curtain of green, snorting a heated path this way. I had to admit compared to the other beasty-beings, it was the least vicious-looking of the lot. Frankly, it reminded me of a jumbo-sized troll doll fresh off a rowdy palm twirling — less the goofy grin. Tanner claimed it wasn’t the smartest thing, so who knows? Maybe this plan wasn’t as insane as I thought? I could give in and go glass half-full on this one.
The balegore stomped a steady path towards the clearing beneath the branch. It was just about within range. I stopped my approach when I was directly over its head. As tricky as what my mentor’s game plan was, an upside-down maneuver couldn’t be avoided.
Fortunately, the limb was slender enough to wrap both my legs around it, nice and snug. I dug my nails deep into the bark and worked my way around to its underside. I tightened my pretzel-like hold with a firm grip of my thighs, counted to three, and then let my hands go. Now suspended like a trapeze artist, my rocking frame eventually coasted to a controlled stop.
“You’ll have to drop your cover entirely for the oculus to work,” Tanner pointed out.
Since the balegore was still preoccupied with its dinner, I immediately lowered my veil and reached inside my shirt to ready the portal-poofing device. However, I ran into a snag…literally. The oculus was stuck on my daggone bra.
Perfect. I dug my hand back inside my shirt and starting feeling out the damage. The clasp connecting the chain was good ’n hooked on a patch of lace. It didn’t have a prayer of coming loose without a fight.
“What are you doing?” my mentor asked, letting a few of his disbelieving chuckles float along with his words.
I hurled him a glare and then pointed to my shirt, diagraming my latest hiccup with several testy gestures to keep him abreast of the situation.
Tanner muffled his grin and threw me a blasé nod. “Just man up and take it off. That’s what I’d do.”
The blood rushing to my head didn’t have a thing to do with the blazing hue igniting my face. Oh, yeah… Said the guy who isn’t wearing a see-through bra! And I was seriously regretting this purchase right now. I’ll never let Katie drag me into Victoria’s Secret ever again.
I grabbed hold of the oculus again, having heard all the snickers I could stand. One good yank and it was finally out, along with most of my cup. Hell, my undies weren’t even safe anymore. If the flinching “rip” I’d heard wasn’t enough evidence, the airy lace scrap dangling from the chain sure was. Now I could kick myself for picking the color — purple. Talk about embarrassed. I didn’t even look Tanner’s way. I didn’t need to. I could feel the stretch of his gape pulsing towards my upside-down frame. The only thing that could have made this mortifying situation worse was him finding out my bottoms matched.
I cringed. Ugh… Now there’s some “laundry” for him.
Then my peripherals caught Silas stepping out from behind the tree, obviously not wanting to miss out on all the fun. He stood there rolling his eyes and pretending to clap while he mouthed a big fat, “BRAVO.” I was actually surprised the smartass didn’t hold up a needle and some thread.
“What are you waiting for?” Tanner prodded. “Get it ready.”
His mentory-tone diverted enough of my humiliation for me to summon the oculus to awaken. The platinum shield shrouding the Veil-blessed portal opened the same as before, popping back into eight starry points. I should have known not to look at it directly because the spectral light that shot out blinded my eyes shut. I closed the oculus back up quickly, needing to reclaim my focus. Unfortunately when I started to open it back up again, I noticed the patch of lace wasn’t attached to it anymore. I soon spotted the scrap drifting in the air and well out of my reach. I trailed its graceful float towards the ground, only to watch it land on the tip of the balegore’s shiny black snout instead. The creature snatched the tiny patch of lace off its face and held it up curiously. It looked to its left and right several times, trying to figure out where it had come from. It even searched the ground — everywhere but UP.
Okay… Maybe it is that half-witted?
I hurried to remove the oculus from around my neck. Although I’d only taken my eyes off my opponent for a second or two, I looked back to find the hulking beast staring dead at my exposed upside-down frame. It swallowed the chicken sticking out of its mouth with a gruff “slurp” and then stretched closer.
A blast of fear froze me like a dangling icicle. Crap.
“Keep calm,” Tanner warned, despite the pitch of his alarm. “You have the oculus in your hands. Try easing it into his view — slowly.”
I’d barely begun to move the oculus into position when the balegore let out a rolling grumble. Its tone was nowhere near as offensive as its breath, but the stench smelled even worse this time. Shithouse-rank hit it just right. I hadn’t closed my mouth quick enough, so I really got a good taste. My lids fluttered as a nauseous quiver swept through me, forcing all of my muscles to go limp. The next thing I knew, I was falling to the ground with the thoughts of nose plugs and perfume-dipped cotton balls beating my head.
My landing came quicker and proved much cushier than I would have preferred. I roused to find myself sitting in the beet-red palm of the balegore’s hand, and the oculus was nowhere to be found.