Chapter 9
Spring Resealing year 5
“So you’re telling me Hitler, World War II, and the whole Nazi regime was a wish gone wrong.” I look at Hal, flabbergasted. I push aside the cake I’ve been working on and let the information sink in.
“Do you see now how your idea won’t work?”
Hal and I had been discussing Sylph history when I’d posed what I’d thought was a brilliant suggestion. Why couldn’t I use a Sylph from the Wanderers’ collection and wish for Himyar to be re-imprisoned in his sphere? It would be outside the boundaries of an imprisoned Sylph’s power to wish him dead, so I thought imprisonment was a good second choice.
“No,” I answer, “I mean, what are people doing wrong that makes their wishes turn out so disastrously? There’s got to be a way of phrasing it so there aren’t any loopholes.”
“Haven’t you been listening? There’s not. Heinrich didn’t do anything wrong per se. He and Adolph were childhood friends. He supported him, but he couldn’t stomach all of Hitler’s ideas. The guy basically wished for world peace, Gwen, and his Sylph granted it. Albeit in a twisted way, but he granted it.”
“But he didn’t get world peace!” I exclaim for the second time during our conversation.
“You don’t think like a Sylph Gwen, so I know all this is a stretch for you.” Hal stops for a moment and I watch him collecting his thoughts. This will be his third attempt at explaining to me why Sylph wishes always go wrong.
“The way the wish would have eventually brought about world peace is by uniting the countries under one ruler. If the wish had succeeded and Hitler had conquered the globe, the fighting would have ended, thus you’d have world peace.”
“But we’d all have been under the control of an evil dictator!”
“But nations wouldn’t have been fighting amongst themselves anymore. It would have brought about unity, an ugly unnatural unity, but unity all the same,” he explains.
“I feel bad for Heinrich; he had to watch his dream become so twisted.”
“I feel sorry for Adolph,” Hal counters. “He’s gotten a bad rap for something that wasn’t entirely his fault.”
“Hmm,” I murmur, inundated with more food for thought than I can possibly digest at the moment.
“So how did you guys clean up that mess? No, wait; let’s go back to the wish thing for a minute.” As always, discussing the Sylph is incredibly frustrating for me because for every question of mine that Hal answers, ten new ones seem to pop up during the course of his explanation.
“So if I were in the middle of the desert and wished for a glass of water, what would I get?”
Hal rolls his eyes at my innocence but plays along. “That’s going to depend entirely on the motives of the Sylph involved,” he begins to explain. “If he thinks you could be useful to him somehow, he may choose to provide you with exactly what you’ve asked for to gain your trust. If the Sylph is just your standard trickster, you’d likely get a glass of water that was contaminated in some way and guaranteed to be unpalatable or to make you sick.”
“Okay, I think I see what you mean about loopholes.” It really would be difficult to word a wish in such a way that some aspect of it couldn’t be twisted, I realize. “I thought when you asked for something it was granted instantaneously? But that wasn’t the case with Heinrich.”
“Ah, now you’re on to something interesting,” Hal answers while pulling a pan of freshly baked cupcakes out of the oven. “You better hurry up and finish that cake-your boyfriend will be here before long and we’re currently out of his favorite cupcakes.”
Laughing I spin around on my stool. “Rashid is not my boyfriend.”
“Whatever you say,” he winks. “Now, my theory about the world peace wish is complicated so stop me when you get confused.”
“Such little faith,” I scoff.
“I know you,” he teases, that sexy as hell grin plastered to his face. “Anyway, granting world peace is technically outside of an imprisoned Sylph’s powers. He can’t snap his fingers and “poof” make everyone suddenly like each other, because that alters free will. Thanks to the angels’ curse a Sylph cannot do that. So my theory is that he dug into Adolf’s mind, reinforcing and embellishing his own ideas and designs for power. Then the Sylph spelled him with an unnatural charisma that made him irresistible to people.”
“Okay, I suppose that explains how he developed a following.”
“What bothers you about my answer this time?” he asks, exasperated.
“You said I wouldn’t understand, but what you told me was very straightforward, simple even.”
“Simple! You’ve got to be kidding me. It took me years to come up with that, and I didn’t even mention what I think the Sylph had to sabotage in order to ensure Germany won as many battles as it did!”
“Okay, okay, you’re a genius,” I kiss up. Putting the last dollop of frosting on the birthday cake I grin. “Done! Quick, pass me the cupcakes.” Dumping my dirty utensils in the sink I clean my workspace and set up to begin frosting again. “Oh, answer me this Mr. Know-It-All. Why didn’t the angels just lock the Sylph into their orbs and throw away the key? Why let them out at all?”
“Balance.”
“Balance,” I repeat cluelessly.
“Yes Gwen, all life is a give and take to maintain equilibrium. That includes magic. Care to try another stumper?” He needles me.
“No!” I bark, done trying to one up Hal for today.
“Excellent. Now catch,” he says, tossing a measuring cup at me. Without the slightest hesitation I use my powers to catch the cup in mid air before it hits me. “Very good, your telekinesis has become second nature, like any other reflex.” Shifting my focus I use my mind to float the cup over and gently set it down on the counter. “Today I want to delve into a new skill: deflection.”
“Alright,” I reply as I continue my frosting efforts.
“Sometimes an object that’s thrown at you may be too large or too heavy for you to catch. Using deflection you can protect yourself from becoming injured or even flattened by said object.” Nodding along, I stop what I’m doing and pay closer attention. “In essence, you project a shield several feet out from your body. It won’t stop an object dead in its tracks, but rather it will redirect the trajectory of the object so it avoids you.”
“Cool.”
“The thing I need you to remember is you don’t get to pick which way an object will be deflected, so anyone in close vicinity to you could potentially become collateral damage if you aren’t very, very careful,” he warns.
“Okay, so what do I do?”
“Remember how you described what it feels like when you catch an object? You said it was like opening up a mental hand and absorbing the item into it.”
“Yes,” I answer.
“Today I want you to open up that mental hand and just hold it out several feet in front of you, like you’re telling the object to stop. I don’t want you to do any absorbing just blocking.”
“I think I can do that.”
“Good, then let’s begin.”
Like every other magical lesson I’ve had with Hal, what I start out thinking will be easy quickly turns into a complicated nightmare. As hard as I try, I am unable to keep from catching the objects Hal lobs at me. I get the concept, and I have no problem making my mental hand into a stop sign, but at the last minute I can’t seem to keep from catching whatever he throws.
“Focus on standing your ground, holding still. You aren’t catching or pushing an item away - you remain steady as a rock and allow everything to glance off your shield,” he instructs.
“Hey, what gives?” The sultry sound of Rashid’s voice floats in from the front of the shop. Oh crap, I totally forgot to flip the “be back in 30 minutes” sign over the door before he got here, I think.
“Quick, flip the sign and lock the door before anyone sees you!” I yell.
“Way ahead of you babe,” he says as he saunters throu
gh the partition with a wink. “I know you’re trying to keep me all to yourself.”
Oh gag me, I think. With a sickly sweet smile I hold up a fresh plate of his favorite sugary treat.
“Yes!” He launches himself at the plate, stopping long enough to kiss me on the top of the head before absconding with the whole lot. “Thanks luv.”
Hal hands me the first of three more pans to begin work on. “Hey, you guys got a T.V.?” Rashid mumbles, spitting tiny pieces of cake everywhere.
“This is a semi-sterile environment, watch what you are doing!” Hal yells while pointing to the small flat screen mounted behind the desk.
“Excellent.” Rashid beams as Hal’s reprimand falls on deaf ears. He flips to the national news. “Have you been watching this?” he asks Hal and I. Half glancing at the screen I notice the broadcasters are discussing a boat that went missing again.
“I’ve been monitoring the situation. I didn’t want to worry Gwen but it’s had my attention,” Hal answers.
“I thought they we’re blaming that whole thing on the Bermuda triangle phenomenon,” I point out.
“Gwen, that’s just a myth laced with some truth, thanks to a Sylph from a long time ago,” Rashid chimes in.
For the first time in days I drop what I’m doing and really pay attention to the news. Hal and I screen the global news routinely, looking for any hints regarding Himyar’s activities. Okay, Hal screens the news since I got bored doing that after the first month. Besides, he’ll tell me if there’s anything I need to be concerned about. A week ago a cruise ship, The Monarch of the Seas, failed to make port in Miami. Search efforts for the vessel and the nearly 2200 passengers on board have been fruitless. It’s been all anyone can talk about for days but I haven’t thought anything of it, until now.
“Do you know what to make of it?” Hal asks Rashid, lowering his voice.
“Do you think it’s him?” I interject, letting them both know I’m listening and they can’t block me out of this conversation. Rashid rubs the back of his neck. His body language tips me off that he’d very much like to speak with Hal in private.
“Spill it,” I demand, staring him down.
“Babe, don’t be like that, I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“Then let’s clear the air, out with it babe,” I challenge sarcastically, reusing his pet name.
“The ship... they found it. He was there.”
“And you’re just telling us now? We’ve got to move, pronto!” Hal thrusts his phone in his pocket and grabs his sweatshirt, ready to go.
Rashid shakes his head. “I just got the call. Adil is dispatching you, me, and Hashim to help with clean up. Kade said there’s nothing left.”
Still poised for action Hal takes a step back and asks, “What else did Kade say?”
“I didn’t field that call, but we should go,” Rashid answers him.
A pained expression crosses Hal’s face and when he turns I can read his confliction. “I can’t go, I can’t leave Gwen.”
“You can and you will,” Rashid rattles off like a good little soldier following orders.
“If Himyar’s not on that boat, if we don’t know where he is, I’m not risking Gwen’s safety,” Hal counters.
“It was a direct order, my man.”
“Hal, it’ll take the others hours to get there, and if things are as bad as Rashid’s letting on then you’re wasting time we don’t have. I’ll be careful. I’ll go straight home, and I won’t leave until you call me, promise.” Clutching my shoulders Hal stares into my eyes. I nod my head infinitesimally, reassuring him everything will be all right. Hastily embracing me he then heads for the partition.
“Remember green eyes, if Hal’s not meeting your needs you’re welcome in my arms anytime.” Black eyes the color of obsidian toy with me, the iridescent ring around the irises flashing wickedly. With a shrug he turns, following Hal into the storefront with a suggestive smile on his lips.
“They’re hazel, smart ass,” I call out after him.
“Keep practicing your deflection,” Hal’s voice instructs me before he and Rashid poof out.
How? Does he honestly except me to find a way to launch objects at myself? I think. Sighing, I glance at the television and ponder what may have happened on that ship. Rashid had said there was nothing left, but what does that mean exactly? Flicking the power off, I realize I have no idea and that scares me.
True to my word, I tidy up as swiftly as possible and head home, my brain flooded with what-if scenarios. After all this time we finally have some concrete evidence of Himyar’s activities. Hopefully it means the wild goose chase is almost over and the boys can come home.
“Ah crap!” I blurt out suddenly. I never did get around to asking Hal how the Wanderers cleaned up that whole World War II mess.
Chapter 10
Kade
Spring Resealing year 5
“Z!” I bark, the earnest inflection in my voice bringing my partner barreling topside in seconds.
“Oh shit no! That’s the Monarch of the Seas!”
Turning the wheel so we come up behind the anchored vessel I share a look of concern with Z. “And it’s spelled, can you feel it?” I ask.
He stares blankly at the seemingly peaceful vessel for a moment. I feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins and I fear if this means what I think it does, he’ll be jonesin’ for a fight.
“I can, and what’s worse it’s silent as the grave.”
The trip around South America had been as uneventful as the trip to Hawaii. At some point we’d given up thoroughly scouring the ocean floor and I’d let Z lead the expedition on instinct alone. Sure, we still searched the seabed whenever we anchored but I let Zafir’s history and unique knowledge of Himyar steer our vessel where Z felt he was likely to be. We’d been anchored in the Keys when the news reports about the missing cruise ship had reached our ears.
“Well at least now we know why nobody’s been able to find it.” Securing the anchor, I cut our motor and face the engineering marvel. “Any clue what his angle would be?” I ask Z.
“He’s making a statement,” Z answers definitively.
Glancing between my partner and the ship I frown. “If that were the case why spell the ship? He’d get a bigger bang for his buck if....” I trail off as angry red spots cloud my vision while the dense synapses of my brain piece the puzzle together.
“He’s not finished yet.” Z completes my thought, having made the connection sooner than I.
The ship’s been missing a week already and I cringe and consider what kind of statement would take Himyar so long to put together. Franticly I pull my cell phone out and start punching numbers. “I’m calling it in.” Turning back to Z I witness his insane leap from the boat.
“No time!” he calls back between punching holes in the hull to make his own handholds so he can scale the side.
“Shit.” In the end I settle for a one line text message to Basal and Adil before shimmying up the side after my partner. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let the guy do something stupid and get killed today. Surprisingly, when I pull myself on deck I find Zafir waiting for me.
“This is foolish. If he’s still here what do you expect to accomplish without the others? We should wait, we need back up.”
“Do you feel any life on this boat? Kade?” He asks me.
Casting my senses around, I don’t sense much, if anything, and admit as much.
“These ships carry thousands of people. How can you ask us to wait? If we can prevent the homicide of even one of them we have to try.” The warrior’s grey eyes plead for understanding and I remind myself that this goes beyond duty for Zafir. For him, this is personal. I bow my head to concede his point and Z jets off toward the ship’s interior. Beating feet to keep pace with his longer strides, I worry that emotion has already begun to supersede Z’s judgment. Too late to stop the freight train, all I can do now is tag along and hope he doesn’t do something exceptionally foolish.
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* * *
Entering the first door we come to, we slink through what’s left of the general dining area. Sunlight streams in through the tinted windows and casts a dim gloom over the room. I surmise that the power may be out but now is not the time to test the theory. Silently we wade past the type of debris you’d expect to find from a mass exodus: broken dishware, food, and the occasional random article of clothing. A trampled cell phone catches my eye, and that sinking feeling you get when you know the worst is yet to come invades my body. Motioning to Zafir with my hands, I indicate we should move on to the cabin areas. We take the stairs and silently tread up to the next floor. The buzzing melody of a swarm of insects greets us well before we reach the top. As I plant a foot firmly on the landing the carpet squishes beneath me. Throwing out an arm, I hold Z back while I investigate. I discover the rich, wine colored carpet is soaked with blood.
“Step lightly,” I whisper. Taking the lead, I try to block as much of the hallway as possible by forcing Zafir to walk behind me, but there’s no shielding him from what we find. Bugs gorge themselves on the putrid flesh of mangled bodies that are spilling out of their suites and cluttering the narrow walkway. I focus on the first cabin we come to, because to focus on the corridor in its entirety would be unbearable, and intuition tells me they’re all the same. Cracking the door, I bump the arm of the female occupant aside and step inside. A man lays sprawled off the edge of the bed, throat cut and red blood soaking into the sheets and floor. Positioning myself behind the door I bend down and examine the woman. Her throat has been severed as well. The constant rocking of the sea swings the cabin door back towards me and when I reach out to stop it I see the marks. Scratches in the particle board gouged out by fingernails, no doubt. This wasn’t just a random act of violence - it was an execution. Zafir was right. Himyar is making a statement, but what and to whom I don’t know.
Backtracking out of the stateroom of horrors I close the door on one gruesome scene, only to be bombarded with hundreds of others up and down the corridor. “You’d think with all the humidity the scent would be atrocious, but I can’t smell a thing,” I remark. A pregnant pause follows my keen observation and in those spare heartbeats I fear the worst. “Z?” I call out, louder than intended.
A Step Away (The Wanderer Book 2) Page 7