Oculus

by S. E. Akers

  My attention was immediately captured by the shifting shadows at Tanner’s rear. There wasn’t enough time for him to turn, so I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him clear with a blustery shove. Swiftly, I snatched up my hilt and extended its blade as I dove towards the pouncing chimera. My sword pierced its chest as I slid down to the bumpy ground. Then, I summoned a stout gust to hurl it back into the air. That gave me enough time to turn and prepare for its next strike. It came at me quicker than I’d hoped, but I was ready for its wrath — fending off its flames, slicing into its paws, and deflecting the smack of its wings left and right. I didn’t see Tanner within my scope, but I felt him watching my every move. I soon realized my fight was lasting much longer than it ever had before, just by the numbers of shreds my sleeves had received and how drenched with blood the dangling scraps appeared. I kept my peripherals on the serpent’s tail. It hadn’t attacked me the first time, which had never happened before. It remained well off to the right of the beast, pretty much sitting on the bench while the main players took their tireless turns.

  I backed the chimera against a towering cluster of rocks with a fierce gust and several repeated blows with my sword. With it unable to take off, I quickly grabbed ahold of the oculus and commanded it to open straightaway. I thrust it into position, directly in line with one of the eyes on the lizard-like goat-head. My heart was pounding passionately. I had this creature dead to rights—FINALLY—and there was no escaping the magical device’s pull.

  Despite the raging high my brainwaves were rocking, they eventually chilled to an eerie standstill. The chimera’s essence wasn’t fading. I stared blankly at the creature, feeling as frozen as it appeared. There wasn’t any movement coming from it of any kind. Soon a shadow fell over my left side. I knew it was Tanner and was dismally aware of what he’d done.

  My stare fell to the ground. I couldn’t look at him. “Why?” I mumbled in a daze, eyes searching the floor for the other half of my heart. I had it… I know I did… Its eyes where RIGHT THERE… I could feel my face tightening as I lifted my head. “I had it!” I raged.

  “No, you didn’t,” Tanner murmured. “Turn around — slowly.”

  As mad as I was, there was something painfully heedful in his tone that I couldn’t ignore. I edged around, unable to stop my frame from trembling its disappointment. The snakehead was hovering in mid-air, inches from my rear and level with my chest.

  “Is that supposed to make a difference?” I argued. “So it would have bitten me. So what? I’ve built up enough resistance to its venom. I could’ve lasted another five minutes before my muscles started giving out!”

  Tanner nodded to the snake’s mouth. “Not with what’s in there.”

  Something caught my eye when I peered inside its fangy orifice. Its forked-tongue was wrapped around some sort of rock. I reached in and pulled out what appeared to be a crude-looking gemstone — colorless, tarnished with grime, and overrun with imperfections. I held it up in the air. My breaths halted when the sullied stone started pounding right along with my heartbeat. This wasn’t just any gemstone. It was a diamond, and somehow it had come from me.

  Unable to shake the numbness holding me prisoner, I watched Tanner remove the stone out of my limp grasp. “Where did it get that?” I mumbled.

  “From the amount of blood you’ve shed in here over the past several weeks,” he replied. “It’s obviously been collecting it for the diamond residue and then heating it.” Tanner sighed. “Biting you wasn’t its agenda. That head would have rammed that diamond straight into your chest.” He pulled me towards him. “Now ask me ‘why’ again.”

  No matter how much I felt the tug of his gaze or how consoling his voice had sounded, I still couldn’t summon the effort to look at him. Every attempt I made at these things ended in failure, no matter what I did, and I was tired of feeling the cosmos’ constant spurn.

  “You should have let it,” I mumbled.

  Tanner’s chest came to a swift halt. “What did you say?”

  I lifted my head as I pushed out of his grasp. “I said you should have LET IT!” I retracted my blade and tossed the hilt onto the ground. I couldn’t stand looking at it a second longer.

  Tanner waited until the irksome “clank” ringing the air had completely dissipated. He shifted his stare to me, eyes burning. “Pick up your sword.”

  I remained motionless, simply glaring at the idle hunk of platinum.

  “Shiloh — Pick. It. Up!” Tanner demanded.

  I knew that mentory tone all too well, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. “Why didn’t Adamas bestow the wand to you? Or Kick-Ass Kamya?” I bowed my head solemnly. “Or Bea? At least then he would have known it was going to someone more capable instead of rolling the dice and getting stuck with me.”

  Tanner approached, unfazed by my hissy fit. “Years, Shiloh. That’s all any of us have over you — just years.” He lifted my chin. “But don’t think for a second that ours weren’t without their fair share of failures. Destiny chose you, not any of us.”

  “Yeah,” I mumbled. “That’s what you keep telling me.”

  The Amethyst Talisman’s eyes flared. “And I’ll keep saying it until my words sink into that stubborn head of yours,” he vowed.

  I shied away from the heat of his gaze. “I think destiny made a huge mistake.” Then I turned towards the cell door.

  I hadn’t taken two complete steps when Tanner called out, “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I kept on my present course. “Taking a break — from fate.”

  “You’re not finished for the day,” Tanner challenged.

  Any other time, I could easily turn a deaf ear to the grit in his tone, but not now. Not a chance.

  I spun around with my fiercest of stares and preparing to mount a voice that could put a bullhorn to shame. “YES — I AM!” I fired back.

  Though Tanner never said another word, he looked none too pleased by my attitude. But at least he knew better than to give the boat another rock. I resumed my course, sulking straight to my room, the space that held the fewest fate-filled reminders. Even still, fragments of my destined life were evident at every turn — namely the pictures lying at my bedside. Those were the worst. All of them served as bitter reminders of my destiny’s collateral damage. And right now, I couldn’t take seeing them a second longer. One by one, I tucked them into the drawer. I hoped placing them out of sight would help soothe the ache. I held on to Daddy’s for a minute. The gleam streaking off the glass around his eyes couldn’t fool me this time. There wasn’t a trace of proud, only a glare of disapproval. I placed the picture face down on the tabletop and sat down on the edge of the bed, dying for a breather from my disappointment. If I didn’t know any better, I would swear someone had hexed my butt from birth.

  Or I’ve been blacklisted by the universe…

  I didn’t sit there for long. My mind had too many thoughts to allow that to happen. Plus, my bloody clothes were enough of a reminder that I still had some wounds in need of tending to. So I headed into the bathroom to clean up, right along with the high hopes of watching my latest failure swirl a path straight down the drain — never to be heard from again.

  If only…

  I was standing outside the shower, waiting for the water to reach the perfect temperature, when suddenly my mental alarm linked to Tanner’s door blared a crisp “ding”. He was either in his room or out in the hall. I fastened the tie on my robe, resigned to giving him a formal apology. Not so much for what I’d said, but for chucking the wand so disrespectfully. That thing had saved my rear more times than I could count. And the only thing my dramatics had accomplished was to validate his claims that the little girl was being childish.

  Though my hand had a firm hold on the knob, I stopped shy of giving it a turn when I heard Silas calling Tanner’s name. I wouldn’t necessarily deem standing here with my ear now pressed against the door eavesdropping, more like courteously waiting my turn — seeing how I’d already met
my quota of insolent for the day.

  “Well?” Tanner posed.

  “Between the remnants in the barrel and what shavings I found amongst your ingredients, I’m afraid there’s not enough layria bark left down here to sedate a fly,” Silas announced.

  I couldn’t tell if Tanner’s sigh reeked with more disappointment or possibly disgust. X-Ray vision would have been really helpful right now. Talk about a useful power to put into a stone. Why the heck didn’t a Guardian ever think of that?

  “That figures,” Tanner grumbled.

  Definitely “disgust”, I affirmed with a cringe.

  “What did you expect, Professor? She’s as young as she is inexperienced. You couldn’t have thought this summer was going to be smooth sailing on placid seas.”

  “I wasn’t thinking,” Tanner admitted.

  “Mistakes were bound to happen.” Silas remarked. “No one is immune.”

  “Yes, Silas. I’ve made plenty,” Tanner retorted. “I don’t need the reminder. Mexico being the worst of them.”

  My ear was pushing against the door hard enough to leave an impression. Just what “mistakes” is he referring to? Part of me wanted to know; the other was a hair away from shoving my fingers into my ears. I seemed to remember him kissing me in the middle of all that bad crap when he could have simply puffed his little home remedy down my throat from the get-go.

  “All I’m saying is that mistakes tend to happen when one doesn’t keep a watch on the path in front of them and only looks ahead to the finish line. You may be all set to end your tenure, but she’s far from ready. You shouldn’t have expected so much in such little time.”

  “I had no idea it would be this complicated,” Tanner replied. “I honestly don’t think I can take much more.”

  My mouth plummeted into a frown. Ouch.

  “Oh, don’t beat yourself up. Ten weeks was an insane goal to slate,” Silas countered. “Do you think the Guardians gave Adamas the same crash-course?”

  “No, but this was my duty,” Tanner argued. “And a part of me regrets that it was. I’ve lost enough time already. Time that I’ll never get back. I need this to be over and done with — for my own sanity.”

  My lips parted as I pulled away from the door. WHAT?

  “So, Professor? Are you finally willing to admit that you were wrong?” Silas posed. The thick slab of bronze between us didn’t muffle an ounce of his smug certainty; that cocksure tone of his managed to score my ears just fine.

  Wrong about WHAT? About ME? I waited breathlessly for Tanner’s verbal reply, but he never uttered another word. Neither of them did. All I heard was his doorknob alarm going off one more time. Though even if Tanner had answered, it was either in a whisper or something as straightforward as a confirming nod. And I didn’t dare think his head had submitted the first shake in my favor, not after the way I’d acted earlier on top of how much he was ready to move on from mentoring me.

  I backed away from the door in a daze. I honestly felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. Here I’d wanted to know his innermost thoughts and feelings all summer, and there they were — unfiltered and straight out of the Talisman’s mouth. Humph! Careful what you ask for. Now I totally understood why I’d felt this yo-yoing distance between us since Day-One. The Master of Emotions was trying to spare my feelings. Case closed. Between the succubus and this truthful shot in the arm, I’d never wanted to see my training come to an end as badly I did right now.

  I turned toward the bathroom with a resolute pivot. And if Tanner’s THAT READY for his sentence to end, then who am I to stand in the way of him getting his wish?

  CHAPTER 20

  The head of the table was completely bare when I arrived at the dining room the next morning. There wasn’t a charger in need of its fancy china plate or the first piece of flatware waiting to be used. Silas had even removed the daggone chair. Surely Tanner wasn’t taking a page out of my playbook; ditching meals to avoid awkward moments or simply out of protest was my go-to plan. But regardless of his reason, he’d never mentioned anything about skipping breakfast last night. And by “mention”, I meant that I hadn’t received the first mental-message or found the tiniest note stuck on my door because I’d stayed in my room for the rest of the evening. Yep. After discovering how Tanner truly felt, Crock-Pots had seen less stewing.

  Silas strolled into the dining room seeming as chipper as ever. “Professor Grey will be gone for a few days,” he announced. “He left word that you are strictly to exercise your mind in his absence, and he warded all the cells with only his accompanied access — just in case any other ideas happened to work their way into your head.”

  “Where did he go?” I questioned uneasily. Without shouting out the first “good-bye”.

  “Why he’s trekking off to the other side of the world in search of more layria bark,” he replied. “Hardly what they call a hop, skip, and a jump in your neck of the woods.”

  “Thanks for the clarification,” I mumbled. Though I was far from toppled by his latest blast, it left me remorseful nonetheless. Surely Tanner had figured a whopping barrel like that would have been more than enough to last all summer. The damn thing looked like something housed in a supernatural Costco. And I had to face facts. Running out of the layria bark rested solely with me. I wasn’t delusional enough to think that my daredevil attitude of late hadn’t contributed its fair share to the rare herb’s rapid depletion. Maybe if I’d fessed up about the shaman’s stone he would have cut me some slack — but that was a BIG maybe. I could literally feel him flinch every time I got cut, whether it amounted to a nick or a gash running the length of my arm. That, I was certain, regrettably stemmed from his lack of confidence in my skills, which was also a huge part of the problem. And I was starting to come to the harsh realization that it always would be.

  “I’m not hungry,” I said, appetite zapped. Silas stood at the left of my chair silently studying me. That was bothersome enough coming from someone who was never at a loss for words, but the piercing vibe his eyeballs were shooting felt as punishing as getting stabbed with one of his diamond-dusted iron barbs.

  “You know, Ms. Wallace, your traveled road is far from easy, but I must say that you and you alone are the only one who has made it hard. In fact, somehow you’ve managed to increase its difficulty.”

  I was too stuck in my zone of numbness to even muster a proper scowl, which came as a surprise since I’d perfected it this summer with the help of present company. I sighed, “Then I guess I’ve succeeded at something.”

  Silas took a calculated step closer. “But do you know what truly confounds me?”

  I shifted my stare to the empty charger in lieu of answering him. Just going off the heat of his hover and the puff I felt jacking his cheeks, Old Faithful was just about ready to blow.

  “The fact that I greeted what appeared to be a confident young lady many weeks ago, only for her to fumble and flounder almost every step of the way. I had rather high hopes that your stay here would not only help you blossom into a fine warrior but an even stronger woman as well. Independent… Poised… But most of all, smart enough to realize when her screw was being turned and tenacious enough to twist it back where it belongs!” Then he drove his sermon home with a couple “thumps” to my head. “And don’t you dare sit there and tell me that your emotions haven’t gotten the better of you. I fear we may have to call Merriam-Webster’s and have them add your portrait beside their entry for ‘thickheaded’ if you do.”

  Guilt and shame twisted my insides, making it impossible to deny his assertions any longer. Everything he’d said was true — wholeheartedly true. It was the kind of truth that throws your humiliation to the wayside because your self-respect is crying out to be reclaimed. And there was only one way to do it.

  “You’re right, Silas . . . about my focus and my ulterior motives,” I confessed. Though I felt the fervor of his gaze increase, Silas never said a word. I pressed my lips together and pushed a hard lump out of my throat. “I
lost sight of what being here meant. What it truly meant. When I claimed the diamond, I accepted every part of what destiny had in store . . . The good as well as the bad. But you’re absolutely right. I’ve been solely responsible for making my own misery this summer. It’s been hard for me, for Tanner . . . and even you,” I admitted. “You’ll never know how ashamed I feel. I’m so sorry for everything.” I breathed in a deep rush of air, assuredly the deepest breath I’d taken in my entire life. “Believe it or not, the thing I regret most was not listening when you warned me that first day. And if I could change only one thing, that’s the one I would go back and undo.” My lips thinned immodestly. “My diamond stabling included.”

  Once the traces of my apology had faded, Silas turned towards the door with a noiseless pivot and headed into the kitchen. I supposed my official acknowledgement that I’d wasted their time all summer was enough of a prize. Who doesn’t get a few kicks out of being right? He was probably in the kitchen right now judging which was sharper: any of the knives housed within the slots of his chopping block or the finely-honed corners shaping his gloating smile. As long as what he’d been waiting for some validation, I was betting on Number Two.

  I was about to get up when the house steward came back through the door with a domed silver dish leading his way. He placed it down on the charger in front of me with a “clang”. I trailed one of the reflective gleams all the way up to its ornate oval handle while my mind flashed to the memory of the first time he’d served me something in this fashion.

  I barely offered him a glance. I certainly couldn’t stomach eating, let alone fighting anything right now — especially since I still didn’t know where the heck my wand was. I was hoping Tanner had picked it up before the chimera snapped out of its layria bark coma. Then again, leaving it there for me to earn back sure made for a fitting punishment.