“Anytime now.” Sage tapped an impatient foot.
“You might want to sit down for this.” He pointed to the chair opposite him.
“I’ll stand. You talk.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “Your markings. They’ve come alive recently?”
“English please,” she said, with mounting annoyance.
“The tree-shaped branding on your wrist. It’s begun to change, yes?”
“You mean the spots.” Instinctively her eyes lowered to her birthmark. “I’m having it checked out by a doctor. What of it?”
“A doctor won’t be able to tell you anything,” he scoffed.
She’d already come to that realization, but short of any other options, had still held out some hope.
“That’s why I’m here, Sage. Your mother just died recently, right?”
Clearly compassion wasn’t his strong suit. He might not have known Miranda, but to speak so bluntly about the recently deceased added insult to the injury she had yet to recover from. Sage gritted her teeth, biting back the pain that followed from the mere mention of her mother.
“Fine. Don’t answer. I don’t need to hear you confirm it. Your wrist bears the mark. That’s all I need to know.”
“How much do you know about me?” Her knuckles began to turn white from the pressure of her clenched hand around the knife’s handle. She felt more threatened in that moment than before. He was either a creeper or worse, and she wished she’d never allowed him inside her home.
As tense as she was, he looked equally uncomfortable, but not because she was holding a weapon in her hand. His unease appeared to have more to do with the conversation than any threats to his life. “You’re a Terra. And so was your mother.”
Not what she had expected him to say at all, though she hadn’t really had any idea of what he might say. Calling her names was about as far out in left field as he could have gone. What the hell was a Terra, anyway? “Yeah…you’re going to have to start making some serious sense soon.”
He lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, at the same time letting out a sigh that registered as pure annoyance. “You’re special, Sage. Part of an ancient race of people as old as time itself.”
“Who put you up to this? Was it Matt?” She laughed nervously and looked around for her roommate to jump out and surprise her. This was exactly the kind of comic book insanity he might come up with to cheer her up. “Wait. No. Keep going. Am I blessed with some kind of supernatural ability?”
She might have been smiling, but he looked as if she’d insulted him. “This isn’t a joke.”
“Right. Of course it isn’t.” Snickering under her breath, she scrunched her face in a strained attempt to look serious, at the same time loosening the grip on her knife. “You’re being totally truthful right now. I’m sorry. Keep going. Can I fly?” she snorted.
“Okay. Good chat. I’m going to go. Have fun being murdered or converted to a Darkling.” He stood and picked up his hat.
He played the part so well, even the anger. Matt had probably gone through a lot of trouble to get him to do it. The least she could do was play along. Sage cleared her throat. “Hold on. What is it you’re trying to tell me?”
“Are you going to take me seriously, or continue with fantasy land bullshit?” he asked.
What is Lord of the Shire for 500, Alex?
Sage fought to hide her laughter, knowing he’d leave and Matt would be disappointed that the prank had failed miserably. “I’m listening.” Matt is so going to pay for this. She wondered if he had hidden cameras set up to catch her reaction.
He held up his wrist, showing her the same tree-like markings. They’d really gone to great lengths to put this little act together, so she did her part, making a good show of inspecting his markings and comparing them to her own. They’d gotten the tree bit pretty close, but the ring around his was much more defined. And in the trunk of his tree there was a symbol she didn’t recognize. Still, though, A for effort.
He continued. “This is the sign of our people. The Terras. We’re bound to the earth by the gods who made us, and pass on our gifts through our lifelines. You were born with the mark, yes?”
“Yes.” She looked down at her wrist. The leaves around the tree were growing more defined each day. And in the center of what would be the trunk, a figure eight symbol had begun to take form, though it was merely a shadow so far.
The guy continued to talk. “And since losing your mother, you’ve started to notice strange things, yes?”
She nodded suspiciously, wondering if she’d been wrong in thinking this was a prank. She hadn’t told Matt about the strange things she’d seen, only that she was worried about cancer.
“When your mother’s light was extinguished, her strength passed down to the next person in her line…you.”
“Okay.” A chill ran down her spine. The dream she’d had. She remembered her mother’s presence and the bright light passing to her. But that was only a dream. Sage set the knife on the table and took the seat she’d originally rejected. “So what exactly does that mean?”
“Our people were created by the gods to maintain balance. Humans are but one of many creations of the gods inhabiting this earth.”
“Hold on. Gods. Like…Are we talking big G or little g?” she asked. Being raised pagan gave her an open mind on the variety of gods. Most people, however, only believed in one. Hearing someone else talk of gods in the plural piqued her interest regardless of whether she believed him.
The stranger had continued to speak while Sage lost herself in wonder. “…and creation was the responsibility of the big G gods. But they kind of sat back and enjoyed the show when they were done, leaving lots of little g’s to screw everything up.”
“So which little g created us?”
“Good question. The Greeks had Athena. The Romans, Minerva. In Old Norse, Jord. Those are all human names for what they believed were the goddesses of the earth. Our people are quite a bit older. We came before humanity had such words.”
“So does that mean our people worship some god we can’t pronounce?” Sage tried hard to stifle her giggling. The way he spoke about the gods sounded suspiciously like mythology from her Dragon Raiders game.
“Pray to whomever you like. The gods aren’t here to solve any of our problems,” he shot back at her, with a cynicism that hinted at his own disbelief. “We’re like reality TV. Interesting to watch, but forgotten just as quickly.”
“So the gods don’t care about us?” That felt wrong on so many levels. Weren’t gods supposed to be like celestial parents? Disciplining their children as much as they nurtured them?
“They only care when it affects them. And that is why our race was created. We were an answer to a much bigger problem. Mother Earth took abuse from all of creation. The race of Terras…us…were brought into existence to stop that abuse. We belong to Mother Earth herself. We are extensions of her great tree of life, and it is our duty to maintain the order among other creations so that none might overthrow the balance and risk damage to our world.”
Rehearsed as his words sounded, Sage couldn’t shake the feeling that he was speaking some truth. That scared her more than she could say. Mundane life sucked at times, but she couldn’t complain. It was at least safe. Being part of some secret society that did who knows what didn’t sound appealing at all. Especially if it was the reason her mother had died. ASSET. All those working trips she’d gone on through the years. How many of those had really been trade shows? And how many of them were her fighting to maintain the balance, or whatever it was this guy said they did?
“Let’s say I believe you.” She riveted her eyes on her mark. The tree of life, if the stranger’s word were true. He wore it. Her mother wore it. Now that hers was becoming more defined, did that mean she was destined to the same fate? “Why wouldn’t my mother have told me about this?”
“Terras have a unique lineage. There are only so many of us awakened at a time. We are crea
tures of balance by nature. Your connection awakens when another of our kind lose their inner light.”
“But what about my father?” She had no memory of the man. Her mother had never been one to take pictures, and the few that Sage had seen of her father were old. Even now she couldn’t recall his face. Did he have the same turquoise eyes? Had he borne the mark too? “He died when I was little. Why wasn’t I awakened then?”
“Your father might not have been of our kind.” He shrugged. “Your mother had the markings, and so do you. Any children you have should bear the same.”
“She should have said something,” Sage grumbled, feeling partly betrayed. Secrets like these were too big to be kept from loved ones. How could anyone prepare for a destiny they didn’t know about, then roll with it after it’s been dumped in their lap? “Assuming this is all true, how could my mother have hidden this from me all these years?”
“It is true!” He demanded with a growling of frustration. “Look. We don’t age like humans. She could have lived for centuries before her light was extinguished. And had you lived out a normal human life and continued the line through children of your own, they might have been awakened when the time came. Why burden you with knowledge that might never have affected you?”
“But it does…” Sage started to argue before all of what he’d just said registered. “Wait – so now you’re telling me that since I’m awakened, I’m … immortal?”
He smiled slyly, a definite improvement over the gruff impatience he’d had with her so far. “Catching on, are we?”
“You’re one-hundred-percent serious, aren’t you?” Crazy as it all seemed, part of her wanted to believe him. Who wouldn’t want to be part of a magical destiny? The chosen one! It was fantasy come alive. But the other half still felt that at any moment someone was going to jump out with a camera and scream You got scammed!
“Serious as death. Which is what you’ll be if you don’t listen. Being Terra isn’t just a marking, it’s a birthright and duty to our people.” That small glimmer of personality he’d had only moments before faded right back into the abyss. Mr. Doom and Gloom and All Things Were Deathly Important returned as he spoke. “Because of that, we have our own enemies–”
“Look, I’m listening.” She cut him off before he could go full apocalyptic with his message. “This sounds really superhero-y and cool, with an added dash of danger. Magical destinies and special powers is great. I’m totally into that kind of thing, but even I have to admit that it sounds like a really well put together prank, and I kind of hope my roommate is listening because I’m not going to let him win this one.”
“Can’t say I didn’t try,” the stranger whispered under his breath. “I don’t have time to force-feed you until you believe. This is not a joke.” His jaw tightened, and he gave himself a second to breathe before continuing. “My job is to bring you safely to headquarters. If you want proof and answers, they’ll give ’em to you.”
“I don’t care what your job is. I want truth…answers.” His aggressive tone had her hackles up. How dare he come at her with this and expect her to just take him at face value? Who would? And then get all offended when she wanted proof. Hell no! “This is a lot of crazy you just dumped into my lap after an already insane day.”
“You want answers? Then grab your shit. We’re going on a little trip.”
“Ah. No,” she snorted, having already hit her quota of stupid mistakes today. Letting him and his crazy talk into her apartment definitely ranked among the top of that list. “That’s not happening. Convincing as you think you are, I’m not following some strange man whose name I don’t even know to some base for mythical people.”
“My name is Grey, and suit yourself.” He slicked back his hair and put his fedora back on. “I’ll let my superiors know you declined and be on my way. You’re not my only job tonight.”
Without another word, he left Sage to ponder the utter lunacy of her day. Truth and fantasy blurred into one another until she couldn’t decide what was real. So much of what he’d said made sense. And ASSET was a company that dealt with secrets. Could that have been why Mark was always so eager to have her work for them?
TEN
Time distorted. Hours passed like minutes while Sage struggled to find threads of truth to cling to. She barely registered the heavy sound of her roommate pushing open the front door as he came home from his shift at the bar.
“What are you still doing up?” Matt’s tone held more caution than surprise. He’d been walking on eggshells, given her recent breakdown. Or had he orchestrated that elaborate scene with Grey? She had to know. If for nothing else, her own sanity. She listened for any hint of humor in his voice, some small clue to give away his ruse. Asking him outright wasn’t going to work.
Matt tossed his gym bag at the foot of the kitchen table and gave her a quick kiss on top of her head before turning to the fridge. “Bad day at work?”
All she heard in his voice was exhaustion from a long night at work mixed with a touch of relief at being set free.
“Too much on my mind.” She traced the branches of the tree-like markings on her wrist. It had grown even more defined. The tree canopy above had widened, with the branches twisting in a beautiful rope-like pattern. Below, the roots shriveled into nothing as they slithered down her wrist.
“I called my dermatologist. She can see you next week. Don’t stress about it, okay?” Matt gave her shoulder a squeeze as he walked past to the coffee maker. “Planning on an all-nighter, or would you rather have some chamomile for sleep?”
Sleep wasn’t in the cards – too much crazy and not enough time to digest it all. It was going to be a red-eye kind of day. “Make me Irish,” she mumbled.
“Damn, honey, are you stressing out that bad?”
She listened as he filled the coffee pot with water. The clink of ceramic mugs being set out on the counter suggested he was planning on joining her. Good – she needed company. Matt was her rock. He could ground her back in reality. “Just a really weird day…and night. I should be tired, but I can’t shut my brain down. How about you? Not seeing Josh?”
“He’s away at a conference this week.” She didn’t see his face, but the pout was clear in his voice. “So what happened to you today?”
“You ever feel like you’re stuck in a dream, and you know you’re dreaming but can’t wake up?”
“You need me to pinch you?” He chuckled.
“I’m serious.”
“I know, honey. I’m sorry.” He came over and hugged her from behind. His arms were her security blanket. She felt safe with him. But even he didn’t have the kind of strength that could protect her from the destiny Grey had said she was born into. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through, losing your mom and all. And I’m not trying to downplay your situation. Just trying to lighten your mood.”
“How? By making me a superhero?”
“What?” Matt’s voice confirmed he hadn’t played a practical joke on her by sending Grey. He’d have admitted that straight away if he thought anything he’d done had caused her more pain.
“Nothing… Not sure my mood can be lifted right now.” She sighed, feeling weighed down by all the information Grey had dumped on her. If what he said was true, then so was the danger he’d hinted at. Danger she couldn’t possibly fathom.
“Didn’t you have karate tonight?” Matt’s voice broke through her thoughts. “I thought punching things would help you blow off steam.”
“Something like that.” Her muscles had tightened sitting at the table for so long. If she hadn’t been so worked up, she’d have remembered to stretch. They protested even the slightest movement now as she turned to face her roommate. More pain would follow tomorrow. “You should see what Devon wants me to do now.” She welcomed the distraction; talking about anything ordinary felt good. Sage eagerly pulled out her shoulder bag and grabbed the paper listing her new workout regime.
Coffee had started to percolate, flooding the air
with a rich aroma of roasted beans and just a hint of bitter chocolate. Such a simple thing, easily taken for granted, but after the day she’d had, Sage allowed herself time to breath it in, appreciate it, grasp at normalcy. There had been so little of that today.
Matt took the page, snickering as he ran his finger down the days and assignments. “If nothing else, you’ll be too tired to be mopey after this workout. And he still wants you to come in twice a week for sessions with him?”
As if she’d absorbed the caffeine from the air, Sage began to rouse from the doldrums. “One personal class and one group session, yeah.”
“Damn, killer.” Matt threw a faux punch at her upper arm. “You’re going to be the Terminator after all this training.” He pulled back into a boxer’s stance, bobbing and weaving as if ready to take her on.
As amusing as that idea was, Sage didn’t engage, but managed a giggle at her roommate’s attempt to make her smile. “Assuming I survive.”
“That’s the kind of can-do attitude I’ve come to expect from you.” Matt glowered playfully and brought up his fists once more, ready for a strike that would never come. “What’s it going to take to perk your ass up?”
“I just need time.” She shrugged. “That’s all.”
With a frustrated sigh, he stood and turned back to the counter to prep the coffees. “Well, while you’re taking your time, you can go through the boxes that arrived today.”
Those words hit her harder than any punch he could have thrown. She’d sworn she’d never open them. Even after Mark had pleaded with her, she’d instructed him to put them in storage. Of course he wouldn’t listen. She needed them to properly mourn the loss of her mother – his words. Mark doing his best impression of a father. Damn him. He would overnight the boxes just to rub salt in the wounds. “That was fast,” Sage swore under her breath.
A Weapon Of Magical Destruction Page 7