Daria clutched Kyla’s wrist. “Don’t you dare leave.”
Her friend extricated herself and backed away. “Daria, I think I had better go check on Na-Kai.” Kyla felt her face flood with striations of embarrassment, however, that did not stop her. She turned and fled the scene of impending doom.
Daria stood blocked by the only person in Atlantis she despised. His nearness shook her to her core and her breath seemed to have taken a holiday. She marveled that her body responded to him without her consent. Her senses tingled and again, her traitorous heart wanted her to reach for him. She shook her head to wipe out the wanton images that raced through her mind, making her blush. “What is wrong with me?”
She squared her shoulders. Rather than look like a coward, she decided the best defense was a good offense. She narrowed her eyes, took a deep breath and advanced toward the magnificent Atlantean. “I must not have made myself clear, so, I will say this as simply as I can. I do not care to exchange words with you. If you started at this moment and apologized until the world looked level, nothing you have to say will ever, and I repeat, ever, make me forget!”
Ni-Cio leaned into what little space was left between them, and Daria detected the pristine scent of salt and rain. She had to elevate her head another foot in order to look him in the eye. “Apologize? I owe no apology. I came to find out how truly daft you are.”
Daria’s eyes widened and her mouth opened. “Daft! Daft? I’ll show you daft.” She elbowed Ni-Cio aside. However, before she could disappear again, he grabbed her shoulders and spun her around.
Daria fell into the depths of his dark violet eyes. Her breath and her heart danced in quick time and her awareness contracted to nothing but the feel of his hands. Her skin quivered, and a slow burn ignited deep within her body.
Ni-Cio seemed equally lost, and she didn’t resist when he drew her closer. One of his hands slid down her back and the other moved to trace the contours of her collarbone. Her eyes closed. Even through her bioskin, a line of flame erupted where his touch lingered. His fingers caressed the curve of her neck until his thumb and forefinger came to a gentle stop beneath her chin. She tilted her head and his mouth touched hers. She tasted sun and wind and something reminiscent of the ocean. Her insides turned to liquid fire. She moved into him, but at the first touch of his body against hers, Daria started as if he had slapped her.
Her eyelids flew open and she recoiled. She raised the back of her hand to her mouth and wished she could wipe his kiss from her memory as easily as she wiped away the feel of his lips. “What are you doing?”
Daria was lightheaded, and she felt betrayed by the huskiness of her voice. She took a few steps back, glanced away and cleared her throat. “Better yet, what am I doing?”
She looked at Ni-Cio. His handsome face was hidden in shadow. He took a step toward her and the light slid upward, unveiling the purple blaze in his eyes. Like a butterfly on display, Daria felt impaled. She could not move. He took another step and the space between them dissolved. The heat of him caused her resistance to crumble. She wielded her only weapon. “Stay away from me. You’re…just leave me alone. Please!” Forcing her body to turn around, she bolted toward the nearest passageway and willed herself not to look back.
Her feet pounded the floor in time to the wild thrumming of her heart. Beads of sweat curled off her scalp and the salt sting trickled into her eyes. She blinked to clear her vision and skidded around a corner. Throwing herself into the nearest offshoot, she slowed her pace in order to peer over her shoulder. Ni-Cio had not followed. She should have been relieved. Instead, she shook her head because whether she wanted to acknowledge it or not, she was disappointed he wasn’t there.
She stopped to catch her breath. Glancing around to get her bearings, she noticed that the light in the tunnel had dimmed and seemed to withdraw from her. She rubbed her eyes and slowed her inhalations. Darkness slid over her as though an inky cloak had been pulled down the length of her body. Any semblance of light had perished beneath writhing hues of gray and black, and she shivered.
With sudden clarity, Daria knew that she was in the tunnel that Kyla had insisted they avoid. Her heart dropped into her stomach. Swallowing hard, she decided to take her chances with Ni-Cio rather than ignore Kyla’s warning. Kyla had been very clear that Travlor was to be avoided.
She began to back out of the tunnel when a suggestion of light flared at the other end. Daria stopped. The curious flicker beckoned and now, she couldn’t remember any warnings Kyla had given. Drawn like a fish to a lure, she stared at the flickering light.
Daria had almost traversed the length of the tunnel when a wave of nausea assailed her. She gritted her teeth and tried to keep the bile from rising any further. She felt dizzy and gripped the blackened rock wall to keep from falling. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I would be glad to see Ni-Cio right now.”
Colors swam before her eyes, and the rock, which she thought was anchoring her, dissolved under her hand. An overpowering convulsion ravaged her insides and she felt herself begin to lose consciousness. The chill of the stone floor rose to meet her when a pair of strong arms roughly lifted her in an icy embrace. She tried to lift her head. “Ni-Cio?”
“Not quite.”
She heard the icy reply before blackness slammed down on her first tremors of fear.
Jolted from an uneasy sleep by a particularly fetid stench, Daria almost gagged, but before she could protect her nose and mouth, the odor dissipated. The hard contours of the bed on which she had been placed dug into her body, offering not even a semblance of comfort. No coverings or pillows were in evidence on the unyielding pallet, and she shuddered with a chill that seeped into her bones. Her brain felt fuzzy and she had no idea where she was, or how she had gotten here, but she was more than ready to leave.
She shifted her legs and pushed herself to a sitting position. She rubbed her eyes and remembered feeling very ill. She rose gingerly to a standing position and was relieved to find that whatever ailment had afflicted her was gone. She looked around the room.
She was quite alone, but the chamber reflected well the mark of its owner. An existence that once could have been viewed as disciplined had yielded to a barren reality that fed a grim subsistence. The few shapes of furniture in the Spartan surroundings were dark counterpoints to a greenish light that glowed weakly from one corner. A spike of fear returned.
“I’m in Travlor’s chambers.” Daria squeezed her eyelids shut and sent a hurried thought-form. “Na-Kai? Come…please…”
She approached the doorway afraid that it would not dissolve, but as she moved closer the door dematerialized, providing entrance to an antechamber.
She entered a room suffocated by monochromatic shadows. Light or color had long since been snuffed out. She hesitated to let her vision adjust to the profound gloom. The vague outline of a figure, shrouded in darkness, disentangled itself from the unrelenting black. And a voice, cracked and scratchy from disuse, haltingly whispered an eerie greeting. “I am…quite dismayed…to say nothing…of being…mystified…by your presence.”
She almost slapped her hands over her ears. The tone evoked the image of a dust-covered cellar door, hinges rusty and groaning and creaking in rigid protest at being painstakingly forced open after the sad neglect of many silent years.
A hiss of movement and Daria was looking into a face so devoid of hope, she thought she would cry. Again, the clawing, straining, nails-on-a-chalkboard effort of speech. “I am…Travlor …you…are feeling better…I trust.”
Daria backed away and nodded. Her voice would not come. Her throat was dry and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. To stand before the life-defying gray husk was almost beyond bearing. Fear edged out feelings of pity and her stomach recoiled again. She winced from the pain and her mouth tasted sour. She saw a flicker of contempt touch his eyes. “Travlor creates this pain!” But the thought disappeared before she could examine it.
Daria knew she should leave, wa
nted to leave, but she could no more will her feet to move than she could will herself to sprout wings and fly. She couldn’t understand her lack of control over her own body, and her fear soared. “Who are you?”
“Sit…over there…I will…bring you…a tonic.”
Flinching from his raised hand as though it held contagion, she crossed the room and lowered herself onto a stone seat that jutted raggedly from the wall. Travlor stood a moment as if in deep contemplation, then without a word, turned and stole quietly into another room.
With his departure, Daria’s pain eased. She tried to quash the imminent feelings of danger that made her heart pound, but her foot bounced up and down in staccato bursts, belying the calm she struggled to exude. “I should have stayed with Ni-Cio, at least I’m not afraid of him. But wouldn’t Na-Kai have warned me if I had anything to fear from Travlor?”
No matter how she tried to calm herself, she became more agitated. Nevertheless, it did not occur to her to look for an exit.
Travlor came back into the room carrying an opaque, flat, brown flask. He proffered the container. “This will help…you are unused…to our food…drink two swallows…before you eat. Your pain…will ease. You…may drink some…now.”
Her senses jangled with alarm. She did not want to take anything from this person. He scrutinized her as though he was a scientist inspecting a new virus. Daria watched her arm lift on its own accord and she took the flacon. The bottle seemed to command its own power. Her hand inched towards her mouth and her terror rose as the spout forced its way into her mouth. Her thoughts raced. “Please, I don’t want to do this! What is this stuff? How is it that he controls me?”
Her mind shut down. Closing her eyes, she drank. The taste was not entirely unpleasant, a hint of earthiness laced with honey, but the sound of Travlor’s whisper was one of bone clicking on bone. And when he spoke, her fears lessened and her questions lost their importance. “You…will be better…now.”
In truth, she did begin to feel better. She found she was no longer afraid and was discomfited by the ring of fear that had threatened to take hold. Remnants of anxiety faded, just as the last trickle of warmth leaves a dying ember. “Thank you. I do feel better.”
“As it should be. Keep the tonic…with you…no one need know.” Travlor glided closer to her and before she could step away, he encircled her waist with a swatch of black material, tying it securely.
He then took the flask from her hand and inserted it into a pouch concealed within the makeshift belt. An involuntary shudder ran through her at his touch, and the revulsion that had receded started to rise again. She jumped. A note sounded, alerting Travlor that he had a visitor. The man gave the appropriate response and the exterior door disappeared.
Ni-Cio walked into the chamber. Brushing by Travlor, he immediately took Daria’s arm. She accepted his touch with more relief than she would have thought possible. His low voice flowed over her like warm silk, and she gratefully let him usher her toward the door. “You are needed. Kyla has been looking for you.”
In disdainful acknowledgment of the gray figure that had melted back into the shadows, Ni-Cio stopped, looked over his shoulder, glaring at Travlor. “No need for you to show us out. I just cannot figure how Daria got in.”
Daria wondered at Ni-Cio’s hostile reaction, but as before, her concern took flight. Ni-Cio turned his attention back to Daria. “Are you all right?”
Another vision of his strong arms wrapped protectively around her came to mind. Daria did nothing to shake the image. “Yes, I’m all right. Shouldn’t I be?” Greatly comforted by Ni-Cio’s presence, she hesitantly removed his hand from her arm and turned to Travlor. “Will we see each other again?” She waited for a reply, but not a sound issued from the darkened chamber. She was glad when Ni-Cio again took her arm and led her through the door and into the light.
The encounter with Travlor exhausted Daria, and she felt more than ready to vacate the shadowed existence that circumscribed his life. It was difficult to remember their meeting, but the irony of Ni-Cio being the one to deliver her from that bleak residence was not lost on her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He had yet to remove his hand from her arm, and oddly enough, she did nothing to encourage him. She had never experienced feelings like these for anyone, and she was bewildered by her reaction to him.
Ni-Cio trained his gaze ahead, but Daria saw that his soft bronze coloring had become infused with warm rose tones. Faint traces of salt, wind and rain drifted around her and she inhaled deeply. She was startled to realize that the exhilarating scent was as much a part of her escort as his vivid violet eyes. “I’m losing control and that terrifies me.” Amazed by that thought, she stumbled. Ni-Cio lunged to steady her, and once again, they were face to face.
The warm rose of Ni-Cio’s complexion deepened. Otherwise, he did not move, it was as if he had become cast in bronze. Daria felt equally transfixed. She gazed into the depths of his beautiful purple eyes and never wanted to leave. A wordless passion play took flight on the wings of silence that swirled around them until, at last, Ni-Cio shook himself. “I would advise you to leave Travlor quite alone. He has nothing you need.”
Daria wanted to bathe in his voice. “Oh, my God! What is happening to me?”
Ni-Cio leaned toward her and brushed a stray lock of her hair back into place. The electricity from that simple touch sang all the way down to her toes. Daria tried to cover her distraction. “How did you even know where I was?”
His tone was so low and intimate that Daria thought her knees would buckle. “I heard you. You sent a thought-form to Na-Kai, but I was still nearby. I knew you had to be with Travlor, so I came as quickly as I could.”
She didn’t know what to say. The significance of his role during the Council meeting had suddenly lost some of its impact. Still, she had to know. “But you led them against me at the Council meeting. Why?”
Ni-Cio furrowed his dark brow and cocked his head, his full lips pulled into a puzzled frown. “What are you talking about?”
“When I walked into the hall, you were at the podium leading the chant to eject me at depth.” At the remembrance, Daria winced and backed away.
Color drained from Ni-Cio’s face. “No, Daria! I was trying to subdue the crowd. The meeting had gotten out of control and I was afraid that if nothing was done, you stood no chance.”
He stepped toward her and lifted her chin so that she had no other option but to look into those magnificent eyes. “I was the one who brought you into Atlantis. I saved your life, and as I stand before you, I would never do anything to hurt you.”
The truth of his statement made her heart contract, and her thoughts spiraled. A hazy memory bubbled to the surface, and she remembered Na-Kai telling her that someone had brought her to them. She released her breath, even though she hadn’t known she was holding it. Her heart trembled and she felt the last of her barriers crumble. She gazed, awestruck, at Ni-Cio. “I, I could love this man!”
She knew he had misunderstood her silence when he lightly touched her elbow. “Come, I will see you to Na-Kai’s chambers. She was beginning to worry, but I have let her know that all is well.”
“I’m not ready to leave yet.” Daria couldn’t believe how quickly she was falling under this strange man’s spell. She stalled for more time. She placed a hand on Ni-Cio’s upper wrist. The color of her skin seemed to stand in relief against the bronze of his muscled forearm. It took a moment to gather her thoughts. “But you said I should leave Travlor alone. Why? Is he sick?”
Ni-Cio took her hand in his and lightly stroked the lines in her palm. Daria could hardly concentrate as he spoke. “Travlor is not sick in body. The man has never done harm to anyone that I know of, but he is a cause of great unease. Come, I will share with you what I know of his tragic story.”
He led Daria to one of the garden retreats. She walked through a lush tropical garden, the gentle sounds of raindrops tapping subdued melodies on precisely placed stones. Thos
e drops sluiced into small pools that were coaxed into delicate cascades that came to rest in an emerald green pond flowering with lily pads. Sequestered next to the pond were two overstuffed chairs.
Ni-Cio settled her into the billowy cushions, and she waited while he lowered himself onto the adjacent chair. Mesmerized by the play of light sliding over the golden bronze of his skin, Daria lost her train of thought. Flustered at her lapse, she attempted to pick up their conversation. “Please continue. If I am to live here, I should know everything I possibly can about you.”
His lips curved into a lazy smile and Daria immediately realized her faux pas.
“Everyone, uhh, I meant, Travlor.” She laughed at herself with easy joy, and Ni-Cio’s echoing chuckle joined in.
He reached for her hand and placed the whisper of a kiss in her palm. He looked up and pitched his voice so low that it was almost thought. His violet gaze caught and held hers. “We will know everything there is to know about each other very soon. That is a promise from my heart to yours.”
Daria’s heart nearly burst with joy at the sensuousness of the dance they had begun. She couldn’t find her breath.
With her hand entwined in his, Ni-Cio sighed and leaned back into his chair. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand and frowned. “Travlor is very reclusive. The man we left has a sickness of spirit rather than body. Travlor has literally walked the earth for eons. He is so old no one can begin to guess his age. We know only that he was alive before the sinking of Atlantis; how much further his history goes beyond that is a mystery.”
Daria dropped Ni-Cio’s hand and sat straight up. “Are you telling me that Travlor never transcended? I thought that wasn’t possible. How can he still be alive?”
Ni-Cio sat up to face Daria and shook his head. “He has never spoken of his past to anyone, and his thoughts are so jealously guarded, no one has been granted admittance. I think he did not transcend because the joy of life seeped from him long before that event could transpire. He seems terrified of death because he refuses to give his body to the earth. So, as each Healer has come and gone, Travlor has been kept in health and therefore kept alive.”
Tides of Change Page 9