The Revealed (The Lakewood Series Book 2)

by Sarah Kleck

“Missed?” Zara asked, astonished, but I had already thrown myself into her arms and wrapped mine around her slender body.

  “Eve, what on earth is going on with you?” She seemed concerned.

  I buried my face in her shoulder.

  “It was just a nightmare. Calm down. Sleep a little more, and we’ll have breakfast when I get back, okay?”

  Zara rocked me back and forth, then led me back to my bed and passed me a tissue. I blew my nose and looked into her deep-green eyes. She sat back down at my bedside. I put my arms around her neck and pulled her close, feeling her warm, comforting skin. I could even feel her heart beating in unison with mine.

  Oh God, I’d missed her so much! I’d endured so much time without her warmth. I’d thought of her for so long, dreamed of her . . . but my thoughts were uneasy. Had I just been dreaming? Was any of it real?

  She sat next to me. It must have been an intense dream, if I had to struggle with it so long after waking up. It was probably best to sleep a little more. I was wiped out and could barely keep my eyes open. I started to yawn.

  Zara smiled. “See,” she said. “Everything’s fine. Now, think of something pretty before you fall asleep.”

  “I will,” I said, smiling back, and she once more took me into her arms. What would I do without her?

  “Good night, Eve.”

  “Good night, Zara,” I answered, letting myself sink into the pillow. The familiar surroundings of home gave me a deep feeling of shelter I could immerse myself in. I closed my eyes and had almost slipped into a dream when I suddenly saw something. An image of dark-blue eyes flashed through my thoughts. Wonderful, glowing, dark-blue eyes.

  Odd. I’d never seen those eyes, yet they seemed so real. What’s more, they exercised an inexplicable, even magical attraction. Strange . . .

  I tried to remember the face surrounding those wonderful blue eyes. I nearly had it, but then it slipped away again. I tried to concentrate but was only able to put the picture together in fragments. Why was it so hard? A small, straight nose . . . auburn hair . . . The image blurred as gently arched lips spread into a slanted smile.

  How did I know how those lips felt?

  “Zara?” I called into the hallway.

  “Yes?” Zara came back into the room, putting on her dark-blue uniform jacket. She moved to my bed and sat down, casting a hurried glance at her watch.

  I didn’t want her to be late because of me. “It can wait,” I said. I wouldn’t have known how to tell her that I couldn’t get the image of this blue-eyed man out of my head, whoever he was. And yet, I felt I knew who he was. Moreover . . . loved him. Did Zara know him?

  Instead of asking her, I hugged her. It was amazing to feel her again. The nightmare had been so real. I’d felt with my heart and soul that I’d forever lost her, the sister I loved more than anything. Again the image of the stranger with the indigo eyes crept into my thoughts. Had he been in my dream? I shook my head to cast out these confused images and focused instead on the sensation of Zara’s cheek against mine as I snuggled against her.

  I once again inhaled the familiar scent of Zara’s skin. That scent . . . I inhaled again. Something was . . . different . . . about her. I slowly pulled away and looked at her. Something wasn’t right.

  “Lie down, Eve.” She brushed my hair out of my face, as she had done thousands of times before. I shrank back from her touch. I couldn’t explain why, but it suddenly felt strange to be touched by her. Wrong, somehow. Again the picture of the young man shot into my head. This time it was clearer, more defined. And suddenly there he was: Jared.

  I could see Jared in my mind! My Jared. The man I loved. The one who had been taken from me. For whose sake I’d gone into the fog. For whose sake I was here. Here with . . . her.

  I looked at Zara, frightened. When she recognized what was happening inside me, her attitude suddenly changed. Her hand stopped in mid-motion, and her body became rigid.

  “Sleep so you’re rested,” she said. But the tone of her voice had changed. Become harder. Firmer.

  I shrank back but did not let my eyes leave her. For a second everything was perfectly still as we sized each other up.

  “You’re not Zara.” Had I said that? My voice sounded different than usual. Harsh. My tone surprised me, but not as much as my words. It was as if I were speaking with an internal voice. I slowly stood.

  “Don’t be silly, Eve,” Zara countered, waving her hand. She rose and came toward me.

  “Stay where you are.” I took a step back.

  “Just stop it,” she said, not nearly as friendly. “You’re just tired. You need rest.” She came closer, lifting her hands in an almost threatening gesture. “Go back to bed.” Her words sounded like a command.

  At that moment I was absolutely sure. This was not my sister. “My sister’s dead. I don’t know who or what you are, but you’re not Zara.”

  A dark grin distorted the familiar face. She had recognized that it was pointless to pretend anymore.

  Then the room around us dissolved. The creature that looked like my sister slowly approached, while a cold and clammy mist crawled over my skin. Every hair on the back of my neck stood.

  One thought burned in my mind and took total possession of me: Jared! I was here for his sake—I was here to save him. How could I have forgotten him?

  “You’re not real.” My voice sounded ice-cold and determined. “Get out of my way!”

  Suddenly something changed in her face. Her shining green eyes dimmed, and her pupils narrowed into tiny snake-like slits. Her rosy skin turned ash-gray, scaly, and dead as her cheeks sank in. Even her wavy blond hair fell out, leaving a small, bald head with a pointed tongue flicking toward me through tiny, tight lips.

  The creature made an awful hiss as it rushed me.

  She’s not real . . . she’s not real . . . she’s not real . . .

  I ran as fast as I could. Far away from this monster I had just held in my arms. I almost threw up thinking about it. Just get away from here! I looked around in desperation. Something was moving about me. My nerves were fraying. Something in the shadows . . . or . . . no—it was the shadows! Wavering, grayish-white shadows. They danced about me, awkward and sluggish, whispering my name, enticing me closer.

  Hazy apparitions of groaning, half-naked women in ragged clothing pleaded for help. I forced myself not to look. I noticed another movement behind me. I reached for the blue dagger in my backpack and pulled it out.

  Children with empty black eyes stared at me from all sides. “Where’s my mama?” a sad child whimpered. My stomach clenched. They closed in on me. I felt their shadow fingers in my hair. At my throat. A cold shudder ran down my spine. What was this wretched place? I ran as fast as my legs would carry me, trying to escape the shadow fingers.

  Then I held my breath as a damnatus floated toward me, its rotting body wrapped in a filthy dark cloak. A hood concealed much of its sore-covered face. I thrust the dagger in its direction, but the creature simply floated through it. Plumes of fog whirled about the spot where I had struck.

  I shut my eyes and kept running, past shadows grasping at me with sharp claws. A damp cold crept over my skin. I opened my eyes and regretted it. The sight before me left me stunned. I cried out, then clasped my hand over my mouth. Was I losing my mind?

  The path was paved with human corpses. Some looked peaceful, but others had terror written on their faces—mouths and eyes wide open, faces distorted into pale masks of horror. I wagered that the latter were those who had gone deeper into the fog. Had I stayed with the fake Zara, I would also be lying there, my face forever frozen into a silly grin. Pure terror possessed me. These poor souls . . . men, women, and children. Dozens had lost their lives in the fog. Would I share their fate?

  Panic and you’ll be stuck, my internal voice said. Quiet and composed, it seemed to come from deep within. Stay calm. Stay calm.

  I obeyed my thoughts and slowed my pace, difficult though that was. Keep the goal in mind. Always forw
ard. The ground was strewn with corpses. There were so many I had to watch where I stepped.

  To take in this horrible scene as a whole would have driven me insane.

  Only one thought helped me stay focused: Jared! Jared, I’m coming!

  Thinking of him drove me relentlessly forward into the fog, marching mechanically across the blanket of corpses.

  Suddenly, ahead of me: a silver, floating veil. Was that the end of the fog? Had I made it? What would happen if I walked through? Should I take the risk? Turning around wasn’t an option. I couldn’t do this twice. I gathered all my courage and stepped into the silver mist. A clear, high voice rang out.

  “Magical Avalon lets some enter but turns others away.”

  “I . . . request entry,” I answered formally. It was all I could think of on the spot.

  “Pass the final test here to leave the mists behind.”

  “What kind of test?” Would I fail now, so close to the goal?

  “Solving this riddle will allow you to enter. But consider: Only the correct answer leaves you unharmed.”

  I swallowed. “And what if my answer is wrong?”

  “A wrong word and you remain here. The fog will take possession of you.”

  A cold shudder ran down my spine. I cast a glance over my shoulder. Would I end as they had?

  “Okay,” I timidly consented.

  The voice rose.

  “The powerful being, worshipped by all,

  to its home, for love, its back has turned.

  Deceived and betrayed by malevolence and greed,

  the Mistress finds her return home denied.

  The water’s might violently displaced,

  the heavens with black clouds are hung.

  The nymphs’ laughter fallen silent,

  dark creatures proclaim their evil deeds.

  The forest, once flowering in perfect splendor,

  without her its might is extinguished.”

  I swallowed. Okay, let’s think. Don’t jump the gun with an answer. I really didn’t feel like becoming the next patch in the corpse quilt.

  Focus!

  I knew this story. Ruth had told it to me. The verse was about Nimue’s love for Merlin, his death, her desperate attempt to return home, and Morgana’s invasion of Avalon.

  But what was the correct answer? Or rather, what was the correct question? The name of the mighty being at the start of the verse? Or did the voice in the silver mist want to know what had happened there? I reviewed the verse one more time in my thoughts.

  Mighty being leaves Avalon. For love. That meant Nimue—that much was certain.

  Malevolence and greed—certainly characteristics I would ascribe to Morgana—betrayed her and she can no longer return home. I was sure up to that point.

  The water’s strength—Nimue’s magic.

  Black clouds—perhaps a symbol for Morgana’s dark magic?

  The nymphs’ laughter fallen silent—I bet.

  But who were the dark creatures mentioned? The damnati? That would make sense.

  The forest’s splendor was synonymous for Avalon; of that I was sure because of the drawings in Ruth’s green book.

  Without her its might is extinguished. That last sentence cleared up all my doubts. The question was: Who is she? Who was the riddle speaking about? That had to be the solution! I breathed deeply.

  “Nimue,” I answered, betting the farm on the Lady of the Lake horse.

  The voice was silent for a moment. I held my breath.

  “You may pass, but be forewarned: cunning and deceit are well disguised.”

  I breathed out, relieved. I had done it!

  “Um . . . thanks, I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied awkwardly and stepped through the silver veil. I forced myself not to look back and went forward. On and on. I had to get through this fog and find Jared—nothing else mattered. And so I went, on and on. Until the fog dissipated and the shadows fell behind me.

  CHAPTER 6

  Where at first I couldn’t see my hand before my eyes, now only fine plumes surrounded me, gradually dissolving with each careful step I took forward. And then . . . unbelievable.

  It was exactly like the pictures in Ruth’s book.

  An enchanted forest. There was no other way to describe the view. Plate-sized blossoms shining in every color, florescent leaves glowing in the shadows, cupped flowers spraying a dizzying yellow mist when I touched them.

  I was nearly overwhelmed by the multitude of colors as I ventured into the forest. The dense, luscious grass muffled my steps. Trees of all kinds surrounded me for as far as I could see. Aspen, linden, birch, spruce, oak, fir, beech, chestnut, larch, pine . . . many I knew, while others seemed to have sprung from a child’s fantasies, judging by their forms, colors, leaves, and sizes. Some trees were young and slender; others had mighty trunks and majestic crowns. They must have been centuries, perhaps millennia, old. A gentle breeze set the leaves dancing in the sunlight. A gust carried away the parachute-like tufted seeds of a fifteen-yard-high dandelion clock. The forest floor was covered in luscious ferns, leafy shrubs, delicate grasses, fragrant flowers, and too many different mushrooms and mosses for me to count. My eyes widened in disbelief.

  A monkey-like animal the size of a hamster merrily hopped from blossom to blossom, opened its tiny mouth, and extended its tongue—almost three times its own body length—into the flowers. It slurped up the sweet nectar with satisfaction. Next to the blooms were carnivorous vines twining up to the gills of six-foot-tall mushrooms with umbrella-like caps. I watched another hummingbird-monkey giggle while it hopped from mushroom to mushroom, amusing itself by fooling the snapping vines. Just before a vine was about to catch it, the creature quickly hopped to the next fungus. A passing dragonfly-butterfly was not so lucky. It was grabbed by one of the vines, which retracted like an octopus’s tentacle and swung the winged insect into the wide-open mouth of a water lily, which devoured its meal with loud smacking noises.

  I heard water splashing nearby, accompanied by melodic birdsong coming from all around. I glimpsed a bird’s plumage sporting all the colors of the rainbow. Near me, a sparrow-sized brilliant white bird sitting on the branch of a mighty aspen spread its glittering wings in the sunlight. It plunged downward, chirping, while a raptor the size of a goshawk but with deep-green feathers circled above the treetops, presumably looking for a meal. Without warning, the bird of prey swooped down on a fluffy, mouse-like animal. The critter produced a piercing cry, causing such pain in the hunter’s small walnut-shaped ears that it immediately flew away.

  I was amazed. A giggling squeak drew my attention to a small birch tree with purple leaves where a pointy-eared hedgehog-squirrel was uttering it before hopping down, grabbing a chestnut off the ground, and running back up the slender tree. There it settled in comfortably, cracked open the chestnut by beating it against the spikes on its back, and noisily chomped away on it.

  What a marvelous place. I felt like Alice after she fell down the rabbit hole. A green Wonderland was inviting me to stay. It was strange, yet strangely familiar. I somehow felt I’d been here before. And I had—at least in a dream. In the magical sleep Jared had sent me.

  I inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the luscious meadows, ancient trees, splashing brooks, loamy forest soil, and beguiling flowers. My heart knew Ruth was right—this was my home. Avalon was my island. And Jared was here. Somewhere.

  Suddenly I heard a noise. I slipped behind the nearest tree and pulled the blue dagger from my backpack. I’d startled a small fluffy animal—a cross between a rabbit and cat—hopping from shrub to shrub. I breathed in and relaxed. Still, it seemed best to fasten the dagger to my belt. That way I’d have it handy. Just in case. As beautiful as this place was, I couldn’t let it lull me into feeling safe.

  The flat ground began to slope downward, leading me into a kind of gulley. I wasn’t quite comfortable with that. I would rather have stayed farther up, with a better view over the terrain. Down here, I felt like ea
sy prey despite the cover of the trees. But since I had no idea where to start looking for Jared, I simply went straight ahead. There was no path, which made the task considerably more difficult. I progressed slowly, clambering over roots, ducking under low-hanging branches, climbing over moss-covered rocks, and walking around dense shrubs. Did it only feel this way, or was the forest gradually becoming thicker and less penetrable the farther I went into the heart of Avalon?

  Except for a few cute forest dwellers, I encountered no one on my hike. Yet I gradually felt less and less alone. I looked about. Nobody was to be seen. I continued onward but couldn’t shake the constant feeling of several pairs of eyes following my every move. What’s more, the deeper I went into the forest, the quieter it became. Where at first I’d heard merry bird twitter, excited squeaking, and busy rustling all around me, it was now completely silent. Only the gentle bubbling of the occasional stream and the sound of the wind rustling the leaves accompanied me.

  On I went, forcing my way through the thick undergrowth. Time stood still. Hours seemed to pass like seconds, but then a minute would feel like an eternity. The forest looked the same in all directions. I began to fear I was walking in circles.

  Finally, I rested at a narrow brook. I filled my water bottle, ate one of the disgustingly sweet protein bars Colin had packed for me, and changed my socks. I took this opportunity to go through my backpack. The tent would be my shelter and was very pragmatic, though I sincerely hoped I wouldn’t need it. Should I find Jared before sundown, we might be off the island faster than I thought. To my surprise, I became a little melancholic at the thought of leaving Avalon so soon.

  I suddenly thought of something. The compass! If there was no other way to orient myself, it might help me find Jared. Hastily, I rummaged through the backpack and pulled it out. But it was useless. The needle spun in circles instead of pointing north. Great! Frustrated, I tossed the broken compass into the forest. Then I got up, recovered it, and stashed it in the backpack again. It would be stupid to leave tracks. In the worst case, I’d hurl it against a damnatus’s head.