by S. E. Akers
“And what about your two sightless opponents?” Silas asked. “Given any thought to how you’re going to banish them? They’re not going to go away all on their own.”
My lips puttered to the tune of flat, stumped, and clueless. “Don’t remind me.” It had been a couple of weeks since I’d ventured into their cell. Tanner didn’t see the point of tangling with them too much out of fear that enough of my cuts might make them mommies and daddies again, and I was in total agreement. And after reading Silas’ thoughts, I didn’t have the first sunny ray on my hopeful horizon about how to send those things packing back to The Darklands.
“Do you really believe what you wrote is possible?” I asked, fearing his answer.
“That they are a reflection of the way this world is headed . . .” Silas remarked. “Most definitely. The Veil absorbs everything this realm breeds, good or bad.”
His ominous tone had my head plummeting straight into my awaiting hands. “Then it doesn’t matter. We’re all screwed.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Silas interjected. “There is still an ample amount good to be found in this world. But the emergence of that creature serves as a pinnacle marker. It is an omen that the scales are primed to tip, permanently. When you think about it, it’s the perfect depiction of so many souls out there wandering around so cluelessly self-absorbed. Casting a blind-eye on your fellow man can render as much pain as a knife lodged in their backs. The creature exists purely for itself and its needs, never looking at the wholeness that lies all around it, and all it does is blindly consume. The damn thing doesn’t even know what it’s gorging on half the time. However I don’t see the whole of humanity in that state.” Silas pulled out his pocket watch and glanced at its face. “At least not this minute,” he added.
Gotta love a sucker-punch of impartiality. “I’ve been racking my brain over those things for weeks and haven’t come up with a thing,” I grouched. “It seems so impossible.”
“But it’s not, Ms. Wallace. It simply needs the same thing a human would require before their souls are ready and tapped for a momentous change.”
“And what’s that?”
A gentle smile eased across the house steward’s face. “Something or someone powerful enough to open their eyes.”
Though I found his words stirring, I would have appreciated something a little less ambiguous.
“You know, you really should give the creature a name,” Silas suggested. “If you make something personal, then it won’t seem so elusive.”
I shifted in my seat. “I already did,” I replied, trying not to wince.
Silas leaned forward. “So?” he posed, having waited to his limits. “Which do I need to pull it out of, you or the book?”
He was going to find out either way, so I slid the creature journal towards him and flipped to the last page. And in hindsight, that hyphen wasn’t fooling anybody.
“Well now, would you look at that,” he hummed, his face flat and lips as tight as a wedge.
I peered into his eyes earnestly. “The ‘Y’ really does make a difference.” After all, Shyloh would know…from personal experience.
His expression sure put the “dead” in deadpan all right. “Tell me,” Silas began slowly. “Did I serve as inspiration because we both share the distinguished honor of leaving you stumped?”
My eyes fell to the table. “Not quite.” I roused an innocent smile and respectfully faced him. “Because it’s all mouth.”
Silas turned with a grunt and marched towards the door. “Oh, you’ll pay for that one tomorrow, my dear Ms. Wallace,” his voiced blared. “And don’t think for one second I didn’t notice that last ‘S’ you did such a sorry job of erasing.” His steps pounded the air like thunder. “I’ll show you just how much of one I can be,” he vowed.
“HEY!” I hollered. “To be fair, I wrote that in there right after you ratted me out about the Faeries!” Then not a second later, a heated thought shot me out of my chair and firmly onto my feet. “And don’t you dare take back my faucet handles!”
Without a doubt, that last “S” would be landing back on that page if I spied the first “H” or “C” missing from my bathroom — this time marked with the biggest and blackest of Sharpies.
I woke up a little later the next morning, having stayed up till midnight reading and tweaking my plans with some of both Silas’ and The Art of War’s advice. I even worked in a little rope-tying practice during my breaks. I think subconsciously I was trying to impress Silas more than anything. I still wasn’t sure how far he’d kicked me off his good-side after discovering that creature name. I hadn’t heard a peep out of him, which wasn’t a good sign.
So seeing how my substitute mentor hadn’t come to call on me yet, I decided to spend the rest of the morning in the weapons vault. Tanner had said I could have full access to anything I needed when I was ready. Correction. When “he” felt I was ready. But regardless of how ready or not he assessed me to be, my time was just about to run out. I figured it wouldn’t hurt to start narrowing down a few selections. With so many formidable magical devices to choose from, my dilemma was starting to get as stressful as trying to pick out the perfect outfit to wear to a party that ran the risk of turning into a funeral. Nothing seemed fitting enough to get the job done. Sure they were all wicked and fierce in their own right, but I still kept coming back to the fact that a weapon was only as good as its wielder. Then there was the whole thing about the Veil magic fueling their power. Every cut would drain some of it away. And those things couldn’t be recharged under the light of a full moon, soaked in salt-water, or even plugged into a mystical electrical outlet. Once all of their magic was gone, that was it. Bye-bye… Kaput… Finito… I could just picture the appalled look on Tanner’s face if I tried strolling out of here armed to the hilt like some supernatural Terminator. Flying pigs came to mind real quick. And I shuddered at the “wastefulness” lecture that would shoot out of his mouth. In this case, less was definitely best. But even more important, it was less of a splitting headache.
I’d been rummaging away and pulling stuff out left and right for a couple hours when Silas strolled into the vault.
“What a MESS!” he remarked, glaring at the pile I’d amassed. “I should snap a picture of this. Maybe text-message it to him with the caption, ‘Look what happens while the cat’s away’.”
I rolled my eyes. I could totally see “Sy-Las” doing it too. “Everything will be back in its place before Tanner returns,” I assured. Of course I didn’t know when the heck that would be. I hadn’t heard from him, and Silas hadn’t breathed a word.
“Well you can start on that first thing, just as soon as your visitor departs,” he announced.
I about knocked over the entire rack of spears turning around. “What visitor?”
“The one waiting upstairs in the study,” he simpered.
“Who is it?” I asked.
Silas’ grin rivaled a Cheshire cat. “Let’s keep it a surprise, shall we?”
That wasn’t flying with the “me” part of his “we”. “Is it Katie?” I asked. She seemed the most logical choice. Plus, I’d told her that Tanner was out of town when we’d spoken last night.
“No,” Silas replied and then turned to head out the door.
“It’s not Ty, is it?” I questioned, knees firmly locked.
“NO!” he huffed and spun around in the doorway. “The quicker you cork those questions and put those legs in motion, the sooner you’ll have an answer.”
I followed Silas up the stairs, still badgering him with guesses without his mouth acknowledging a single one of them. I didn’t find out why until we’d arrived topside and noticed him pulling some earplugs out of his canals that had mysteriously made their way in there.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Wallace. Did you say something?” Silas inquired, eyes wide.
With him back to his old tricks, I knew he was still a little miffed about the creature name. That considered, I still didn’t think it was
another Talisman or any other supernatural here to kill me. But only because Tanner’s amped-up wards wouldn’t permit it—unless the handy house steward had somehow magically backdoored one in here for a little sneaky payback.
Silas caught me loosening the latch on my holster as we headed down the hall. He nodded to my hilt. “Is that how you intend on receiving your guest? Like a shotgun-toting hillbilly demanding that they state their business?”
Oh yeah. He was pissed. “I don’t know,” I countered. “Should I be receiving them that way?”
The house steward placed his hand over his heart, clutching it theatrically. “So I’m intrusive and vindictive,” he sniffed. “I’ll have you know that my heart bleeds from your wounds.”
“I can draw my blade right now, and we can test that theory if you’d like?”
Silas resumed his haughty stance. “I take it from your guarded glare and guiltless proposition that you finished the book.”
“Yes,” I squinted. “And thanks to you, I’m ready for anything you throw at me.” I nodded to the closed doors confidently. “Nothing waiting in there can come as a surprise.”
“We’ll see about that,” he chuckled and then threw open the double-doors straightaway.
I spotted the back of a strange man’s head in one of the chairs as soon as I’d entered the room. His hair was the color and sheen of India ink with only a few grays glinting in the mix. Our approach lifted the man swiftly out of his seat. My feet came to an abrupt halt as soon as he turned around. Silas wasn’t kidding when he’d referred to my guest as a “surprise”. My shock aside, I was seeing stars — the TV kind.
The sophisticated looking gentleman smiled. “I take it you know who I am,” he said with a melodic Italian accent that caressed your ears like the purr of a kitten.
“Yes,” I muttered, hoping my mouth hadn’t been hanging open a foot. You had to be living under a rock not to know who this guy was — Tobias Cavallo, motivational guru to the entire planet. His olive-skinned, soft-featured face had graced our living room television screen almost every weekday since I was eight. Charlotte never missed a single one of his shows, even the summer reruns, which I’d always found ironic. For a person who sought to inspire the masses into getting off their rears and fulfilling their dreams, my mother never budged so much as an inch off our sofa, nor put any of his valuable words of wisdom to use. Maybe it was one of those you had to be “in-the-audience” things? Of course now that I was older and standing here face-to-face with the impeccable-looking man outfitted in his polished designer suit, breathing in the notes of his sandalwood cologne, and being engulfed by the charm oozing from his full-lipped smile, I finally realized why she was such a fan. This suave older gentleman was kind of a Clooney.
I didn’t have to guess why he was here; I only wondered how in the hell the house steward had pulled it off. I seriously doubted he’d arrived via the magical orifice that he jerked everything else out of.
I turned to Silas, submissively weary and wounded. “And here I thought I was making progress.” Then I shifted nervously towards my celebrity visitor. “Please tell me there aren’t any cameras hidden anywhere.”
The two men looked at each other for a thought-fueled moment and then suddenly burst into laughter. My awkwardness faded away and in its place arose a funny feeling that I had somehow landed in the middle of one seriously messed-up prank.
“Please allow me to introduce myself,” my visitor insisted. His cinnamon-colored eyes swirled into the most vivid lime-green hue as soon as he took off his ring — his identity-blocking tiger’s-eye ring, that is. “By my real name,” he added with a slyness molding his distinguished brow.
I sensed his signature essence immediately. “Amando,” I spoke up, before he could utter another word. “The Peridot Talisman.”
“I am impressed,” Amando beamed. “So I take it you are familiar with my stone.”
“Quite,” I said, thinking about the impromptu practice I’d scored at the hands of my BFF’s mouth and one seriously ticked-off gypsy. And knowing that “aligning a person with their destiny” was one of the stone’s other hallmarks, aside from lie detecting, I understood exactly why he was here.
I turned to Silas. “So you called in a professional?”
“I did not send for him,” the house steward assured.
“Tanner told me you were here,” Amando admitted. “He contacted me about needing some layria bark.”
Great. He probably knows all about my struggles. How embarrassing. “Did he send you?”
“No,” he replied. “I came of my own accord. And though I am delighted to finally meet you, I thought I might be of some assistance.”
Yep. He knows.
“Why don’t we go for a walk?” Amando suggested and then motioned to the terrace doors.
I nodded and then the two of us headed outside straightaway. We strolled around the grounds for over an hour. He mostly talked about his own experiences at first, which was as comforting as it proved interesting. He’d been a Talisman since 1204, handpicked by Gaia herself, and had been prompting and pushing souls towards their destinies for centuries. That piqued my curiosity. So I asked him if he’d ever inspired someone famous. And he had, plenty of well-known figures throughout history. Christopher Columbus discovering the New World was kind of a biggie. Though encouraging someone to follow their dreams at the risk of falling off the edge of the world was easy when it wasn’t so new to you since you’d traveled there numerous times before. Then he quoted what the legendary explorer had said about his journey, that by prevailing over all obstacles and distractions one will unfailingly arrive at their destination. That’s when I felt the conversation starting to lean in my direction. I knew it was coming. That’s why he was here, and it didn’t hurt that he was such a smooth-talker. The earth elemental Talisman did reveal a little more personal information before making his final shift. It seemed he’d collected a grand total of five-hundred forty-eight children over the years, with one on the way — but not a single wife in the mix. Apparently his destiny didn’t include any wedding bands. Ironically, that was what I’d found the most shocking out of all of his tales…and the most telling. Yep. The fertile supernatural baby-daddy was a total Casanova, head-to-toe.
Our conversation officially segued onto me after that reveal, when he asked me about my family and experiences growing up, right up to the night I fell into that cave and claimed my stone. But he didn’t linger on my past. He was more interested in my current situation. So I just let it rip and hit all the embarrassing highlights. It turned out that Tanner hadn’t revealed a single one of my fiascos. I could tell that by the stunned fixedness of Amando’s eyes and the undertones of amusement whirling in his irises.
“What do you think your problem has been?” the Peridot Talisman asked. “You seem like a very bright girl. Surely you have formed a few opinions.”
“My emotions,” I replied. “I’ve known it for some time.”
“Emotions are fascinating. They can be both joyful and equally as crippling.” Amando sighed. “Like many of my own children.”
I grinned. “Silas has been helping me see precisely how crippling they’ve been to my soul.”
Amando glanced back at the house. “Really? You must tell me how. I love learning about the techniques other’s like to employ, especially when they are effective.”
“He had me lock a proustite around my neck.”
The Peridot Talisman’s natural cinnamon eyes bugged straight into green. “I see he went for the one-step plan with the no-money-back guarantee,” he grimaced. “I’m sure that was about as much fun as a being chained to a rock and having wild wolves with diamond claws pick you apart.”
“Oh, so you’ve had the pleasure as well,” I teased.
“Yes, and once was enough for me,” he assured. “Though my stone doesn’t focus on one’s past. It harnesses the will of a person’s present. We are always in it, and our current mindset is the most crucial factor whe
n it comes to our future.”
“I have plenty of present emotions that I’m contending with,” I admitted. “I think they’re tougher.”
“Of course they are, Shiloh. They are the ones fueling your desires, but they also serve as our greatest distractions. Anyone can walk destiny’s path, but only the determined can reach its end,” he affirmed, his sagely gaze level with mine. “It is no different than a road you are driving down. You pass signs that seek to change your course, places that entice you to dally, and people who flag you down for a ride. You can stop to pick them up, but you must never hand them your keys, nor let them sit behind the wheel. Always remember to keep going, and no matter what choices you must make, there is no turning back. Your eyes must be evermore straight and looking forward.”
“I am trying . . . truly,” I vowed. “Now that I’m aware.”
“Trying carries a vast amount of weight,” he assured. “And at the end of your attempt-filled day, know that you always have tomorrow. That’s the secret ingredient . . . Keeping your hope alive is what matters most, and you must protect and nurture that hope at all cost.”
“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” I smiled.
“And just to make sure you do, I brought something for you.” Amando held up a little golden bracelet with a charm on its end that contained one of his peridots. “I thought it could serve as a reminder of the path you have chosen, whether you’re in need of its powers or not.” He smiled and added, “And I figured you would get more use out of a stone than a carton of my books and DVDs.”
I thought its chain looked a little too long for my wrist. And it was, I discovered when Amando bent down and fashioned it around my ankle. My grin was uncontainable. As excited as I was to receive my gift, the thought of texting a picture of this moment to Charlotte would have tickled me far more.
“Best to put it as close to your feet as possible, so you can feel it there as each of your steps carry you forward through life’s journey.”