Thank you, she said wrapping her arms around his neck. He licked her face and ran off in the direction the bird had flown. I am coming for you, Miguel. Please hold on, she called after him, touching the kiss he’d left on her cheek.
Startled, she looked at her hand. It was clean. The blood and shadows that had tormented her for so long were gone. Mariah touched her face with both hands and it, too, was clean. She looked around again, noticing once more that she and Kasha were alone. She had let go of her ghosts. She was free.
Beaming, Mariah turned to Kasha and gasped, realizing that she’d never seen her so clearly. Kasha was youthful and beautiful, her face unlined with years of worry. Her dress was simple and elegant, a dress that so profoundly matched the woman’s personality that it seemed it was a part of her. Her platinum hair shone in the sunlight, offsetting her tanned skin and deep brown eyes.
Welcome back to the living, Kasha said, pulling Mariah into an embrace. I am glad to know Miguel still lives. Come, let’s get back to our bodies. My bones may be made of stuff that can withstand vampires, but I can still catch cold.
Filled with the new warmth in her heart that fueled her soul and pulsed like a heartbeat, Mariah followed her old mentor home.
Chapter 22
Elisa sat placidly on the rail of Miguel’s little ship, watching the sunset behind her city and listening to the sounds of the busy docks. Miguel would be back soon with a place for them to stay, having already taken care of all the other tedious tasks, such as registering their ship with the dock master. She twirled a parasol over her shoulder even though it looked to be a clear night. The city was different now than it had been when she and the other girls had run about it. Perhaps it was that she was older and more mature, or perhaps it was simply what time did to a place.
Or perhaps both, Theron interjected. She smiled at him, comfortable with his closeness.
Do things ever stay the same? she asked.
Only us.
She smiled again, gazing down at the water lapping at the dock to which they were tied. It was too agitated to show her reflection, but she could imagine well how she would appear. Young, flawless, and beautiful, just as she had been the day Miguel had returned for her. Wouldn’t it be grand to see her friends now? Imagine the shock on their faces when they saw her. They would be old and worn with wrinkles around their eyes and mouths by now, with aches that they would try to hide and failing eyesight, and she not looking a day past nineteen. Oh! they would exclaim, how did you do it?
Elisa gave her non-existent reflection a bashful smile and turned away modestly. Some people just age better, I suppose.
Theron chuckled and sent to her an image of Narcissus endlessly gazing at his reflection, and Elisa laughed, embarrassed. She stood and straightened her skirts, then turned her gaze to the remaining passersby on the docks. To her surprise, she saw a man she recognized. Without stopping to think, she rushed down the gangway and dodged the traffic until she slipped her hand into his arm.
The man, with his gorgeous blond curls, jerked around, startled.
“Señor Sophus,” she said, dropping into a curtsy and flourishing her beautiful skirt.
“Señorita Elisa, what a pleasant surprise!” Sophus gave her a slight bow and held out his elbow to her. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this lovely evening?”
“I was made to wait aboard that dreary boat, when what I longed to do was take a walk among my lovely city. Perhaps you would care to accompany me? I could show you the sights.”
“I’ve seen all the sights, my dear, save for your lovely face among them.” He gave her a smile that charmed her through. “However, I should very much enjoy a walk with you. My business can wait until later. I think I would love to see the places that brought forth such a pearl.”
Elisa glowed at the praise as they began to walk. Theron, be a dear and let Miguel know I’ve gone out for a bit and not to worry.
Be careful of him, precious one. He is devious.
I will, she promised. I intend to get your body back. Theron’s response was like a pat on the head, but he didn’t stop her, so she went forward.
“Shall we take a cab?” she asked, looking about for a taxi.
“There is no need. There.” Sophus pointed toward a waiting trap with a glossy black horse.
Elisa allowed him to lift her in. She arranged her skirts as he gathered the reins and joined her.
“Where shall we go first?” he asked as he maneuvered them out into traffic.
“It occurs to me that in all this time, I have never been back to my home since the day I left it. Let’s take the scenic route and go around the city.” She gestured to him the way, and they turned.
“Tell me about it.”
“It’s a large plantation out to the west of the city, with a grand house. Casa de la Cuesta.” She smiled at the memory, and then prattled on as they went, pausing occasionally to direct Sophus. She trailed off as they neared the place she had meant to pass by. She had hoped not to bring attention to it, but Sophus had already begun to slow the carriage.
“And what of this place?” he asked as they stopped before the closed gates.
“The Álvarez estate,” she said, trying to sound dismissive. Sophus waited, clearly expecting more, so she continued. “The home of a childhood friend, nothing more. Miguel worked for the family when he first arrived with nothing more than the shirt on his back. It was how I met him, actually.”
She smiled fondly, hoping it would be enough.
“And this friend?”
“We had a falling out when Miguel chose me over her.” Elisa waved dismissively. “She found herself some stray sailor to have a baby with and then ran away with him, abandoning her child. My sister and her husband took the foundling in and got to take over the house as well.”
“Indeed.” Sophus paused a moment longer, his voice suddenly lightening. “Well, if you’ve seen your fill, shall we move along?”
“Absolutely. There’s nothing but sadness for me here. Sometimes I worry that her sorry fate is all my fault, since Miguel ended up with me and not her, the poor girl.” Elisa tried her best to sound remorseful over the tragedy. “We’ve never come out this way, Miguel and I. His memory suffered horribly during his transformation, and he has difficulty sometimes letting it go.”
“No doubt.”
***
“I’m still disappointed you didn’t bring any of Theron with you to experiment on,” Nana said as they walked along the edge of a stream.
Mariah’s month with Nana was nearly up, and she felt she had learned so much, yet couldn’t shake the feeling of having only scratched the surface at what could be done. She had also begun to feel uneasy, worrying that she needed to return.
“Yes, but I think Sophus would have been suspicious if I’d brought anything. He likes to travel light. Besides, I am certain that Theron would know it if we actually harmed any bit of him.” Mariah shuddered at the memory of the agony that had been the burning of a single hair of her head.
“You seem anxious today. What is on your mind?”
Mariah shrugged, trying to dispel her nervousness. “I just feel that I should go back soon. I don’t want him to get suspicious, and it’s as though there is … something coming.”
Nana crossed her arms and gave a disapproving look, but Mariah rushed on. “I’ve quite enjoyed it here, though. Especially assisting the healer.”
“I never thought you would take so well to something like the healing arts.” Nana accepted the change of subject with a shake of her head.
“It’s easy when I only have to see something done once and remember it perfectly thereafter. It saves a lot of time.”
“It does indeed.”
Mariah walked quietly behind her friend and mentor, comfortable in the silence and knowing that, if Nana had something to say, she would say it when she was ready. Mariah reflected over some of the things she had learned to do, or started to learn. Access to the dream world
was limited to places she’d already been, which she already knew, and places she could get a guide to take her. She had already figured this out as well, following Sophus to Theron’s lair, and the Si’a bird who had first led her to Miguel. But it wasn’t just places she could see, but times. The past and present were simple, but though Nana had instructed her on the theories of viewing the future, she had not yet shown her how.
A large portion of their time was practical and spent in the real world, working and learning the responsibilities expected of an elder daughter of the Wayuu. Nana would also lecture her on the meanings and theoretical workings of the dream world, how to interpret things or guide her visions. They also practiced moving in the dream world and the real world at the same time, but even with Nana’s help, her progress was slow. To be able to move her body independently of her mind when she was in the dream world held so many possibilities. Mariah committed herself to continuing to practice that skill.
Mariah’s favorite thing, though, was learning to manipulate objects in the real world with her thoughts. Nana had given some lengthy and highly detailed explanation about how everything possesses a spirit and her spirit being attenuated to certain types of spirit so that she could reason with it, or convince it, or some such thing. It was surprisingly confusing for Mariah, who was unused to not understanding how things worked. For once, it was just enough that it worked.
They reached Nana’s home and Mariah immediately lit a candle, hoping to move enough air to snuff it out. Thus far, she’d only managed to make some air stir and the candle flicker. Perhaps this time would work better.
“Why can’t I move anything else?” Mariah asked, managing to stir some leaves on the floor with the air. “I’ve no luck at all with earth, water, or plants.”
“The fire and air are connected more closely to you than the others,” Nana explained, pulling out her yarn and susu bag she was making. “Some people are artists; some are musicians. Some have a way with numbers and others with words.”
“Which is yours?” Mariah asked, focusing on the flame, but Nana didn’t answer. Mariah watched the little flame move and dance, a tiny life on a wick. An idea formed in her mind, and rather than destroy the little life, Mariah decided to shape it. Could she perhaps use the air to bend it …?
“A war council has been called,” Nana said solemnly, cutting in to Mariah’s thoughts. “The elders from the other villages should all be arriving sometime today.”
“What?” Mariah looked sharply up at the older woman. “You mean they still intend to fight? Despite knowing that they’ve been manipulated? Despite the fact that the war was orchestrated so Sophus could own more of our blood? They’re doing it anyway?”
“Do you really believe that is all there is to this?” Nana asked in her usual soft voice as she continued her weaving.
“What more is there? Our men will die, their men will die, and when it is all over and done with, what will be left? No matter who wins, there will only be more orphans and widows, and Sophus and Theron will continue on as the victors,” Mariah said passionately, the candle flickering along with her words.
“Tell me, what do you foresee happening if we do nothing? What if we stay here, in our homes and our fields, and do not prepare for war?”
“Then the crops will grow, and there will be enough hands to bring it in. There will be enough food to go around. There will be fewer sacrifices to our captors, until they will be forced to seek elsewhere,” Mariah said as Nana stopped and turned back to her. “We would have peace!”
Nana regarded her for a long moment, but shook her head as she turned back to her bag. “You are missing something of great importance, child.”
“I don’t see what. It is Sophus who starts these things, riling up the villages to anger until they organize a war. If Sophus were removed from the equation, these things wouldn’t happen.”
“How old are you again, child?” Nana asked acerbically. “Are you truly so innocent as to think that men, especially young men, are content to live in peace? Are you really so blind to the nature of your father’s people, so uninformed about your history?”
“My history?” Mariah asked, confused at the change in topic.
“Do you mean to tell me that, if we went docilely back to our herds and fields, your conquistadors would leave us alone?” Nana looked at her. “It wasn’t Sophus who drove them to our shores. It wasn’t a vampire who slaughtered our cousins, who stole their lands and their lives.”
“But they’re good people, as good as yours!” Mariah defended. “My father was a good man!”
“Yes, he was.” Nana’s voice softened a little, and she set down her weaving. “But he was rare. Most men are like Sophus, like Theron. They yearn for power in whatever form they can find it. Sophus knows this, and he uses it against us all. He comes here and plants seeds of hatred in our hearts, but we are the ones who nurture the plant. Then he goes and does the same thing with the Europeans. Sophus didn’t start the wars. He merely fanned the flames.”
“Regardless,” Mariah said, crossing her arms, “I will not support it.”
“You are not invited,” Nana said simply and walked out.
Left to her own devices and with little else to do, Mariah sought out the village healer. The healer was with an elderly woman who was dying, her family waiting calmly around her. The healer motioned for Mariah to stay without, so she watched silently from the door. The eldest daughter, a woman with children of her own, waited patiently to dress the body once it was vacated. She sang quietly a tune Mariah was unfamiliar with, but, like all the Wayuu music that Mariah knew, it touched her soul.
It was certainly not the first death Mariah had witnessed, but it was the first of its kind. The woman passed away quietly, and Mariah watched her spirit rise from her body, a perfect younger version of the woman. She was at peace, and though her family cried quietly, the woman smiled radiantly, touching the heads of her children and grandchildren. This was the first death Mariah had ever seen that had not been filled with violence. Even the women that she and Sophus assisted to die were always followed closely by the biting, the bloodlust, the tearing of flesh and consuming of blood.
The spirit of the deceased woman turned toward Mariah, giving her a warm smile. Mariah returned it and looked over the people in the room, her eyes falling on the eldest. The elder daughter, being considered closer to death, had the responsibility of caring for the body and burying it. Then, after so many years, the bones would be retrieved, cleaned, and buried a second time by the same daughter. It made Mariah wonder what had happened to her mother’s bones, if they had been cared for with due ceremony as Mariah had certainly not been old enough to assist.
A commotion outside told Mariah the war council had concluded. Hoping they had thought better of things, Mariah went out to search for Nana. There were cheers and whooping from most of the young men, while the older men remained somber. Mariah was afraid she’d had her answer before she’d even asked the question.
“This must stop,” Mariah said when she saw Nana.
“It must indeed,” she said, walking past her without slowing. Mariah fell into place beside her.
“I will do it. I will go tonight if I must. Tell me how to defeat Sophus, and I will finish it tonight,” Mariah said quietly, urgently.
“No, I will go alone,” Nana returned.
“I don’t see why you —” Mariah began, but Nana cut her off.
“I will go because I have as much grievance with that thing as you do,” she said harshly. “You said you came to me to help even the odds. Well, I’m offering to even the odds. Besides, if I fail, you will still remain to try again.”
“No,” Mariah said firmly. “I won’t let you do it. You’re the only friend I have left in this world. I can’t lose you too.”
Nana stopped walking and smiled at her fondly. “You won’t.”
That night there was a great celebration asking the spirits for help as they embarked on their war. There
was feasting, dancing, ceremonies, and tales. Mariah watched from the outskirts of the events, enjoying the sight of Nana in her natural element, telling the familiar tales as Mariah had first heard them as a child. As she watched, she decided that now would be as good a time as any to try to reach Miguel again. She closed her eyes, searching for the pull that always drew her toward him, the pull that she had been hiding from for so many years. It was faint, but it was there.
She threw her mind into the air, feeling as free as a bird as her spirit took the shape of a falcon, racing over the land toward Miguel. She gave in to the faint pull, letting it guide her and feeling it grow stronger the closer she got. Mariah let the pull direct her toward the sea. For a moment she worried that Miguel had abandoned the necklace, perhaps throwing it into deep, but as she neared the water, she saw a small ship skimming the surface in the darkness.
She was certain it was Miguel, even from a distance. She tucked in her wings and swooped down, circling the boat once before landing near the stern. She arranged her dress carefully beneath her and sat, soaking in the sight of her husband.
***
Mikhael stood in the darkness, adjusting the sails of the tiny fishing boat, and enjoying his moment of peace and quiet. Enjoying the rise and fall of the waves, the feel of the ocean spray on his skin. Enjoying being alone. As alone as he ever was, anyway. Elisa was busy working some political party back in town, and Theron was preoccupied watching her, coaching her on what to say. It was late, and Mikhael had managed to plead that he needed to rise early to attend to business in the morning before Theron or Elisa could protest. His excuses made to the host and fellow guests, they had no choice but to let him go.
Feeling daring, he had commandeered a small sailboat and set out into the bay. The nightly catatumbo lightning storm brewed in the distance; it would be a few hours before he would need to change direction to avoid it. Mikhael had no fear for his own life, but he did wish to return the boat in one piece; he did not want to deprive some small family of their only means of income.
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