Order of Vespers

by Matilda Reyes

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Mikael laughed so hard that juice spurted from his nostrils. He wrapped his arms around his middle and slid to the floor from his perch on my small couch.

  “But it’s so, so bad. I didn’t realize old American movies were so awful.”

  “Flash Gordon was one of my dad’s favorites. We watched it all the time.”

  “Your father must have had fascinating tastes. Do you know of other bad movies? If you make me a list, I will purchase the titles for our library.”

  “Our library?”

  Mikael gave me a toothy grin. “Yes, ours.”

  Mikael had been my constant companion over the last week. Once we’d gotten past the initial awkwardness, it had become apparent that we were destined to be friends. Our natures and humor complemented each other. There was nary a lull in the conversation, and those few were filled with comfortable silence. Mostly, we laughed.

  “You must be plotting shenanigans. What’s your game, pal?”

  “Your rooms are bigger than mine, and you have been given a better television. We will have our movie nights here. It only makes sense to keep everything in one place.”

  I wanted to pinch his red cheeks. Mikael’s tragic upbringing hadn’t allowed him the comfort of physical touch or affection. Now, as an adult, he was too shy and embarrassed to ask for the simple pleasure. There was little I could have done to erase his past, but I was determined to ease his pain in the present.

  “See? Shenanigans. You’re lucky that I like you so much.”

  “Yes, Milaya. It is my luck indeed.” He leaned into the hand that ruffled his hair and smiled to himself. “It’s getting late, and you need your sleep.”

  My stomach rolled as Mikael stood and stretched. He didn’t need to elaborate. Our little vacation from the world was over. Whatever precautions necessary to ensure I didn’t kill anyone else had been taken, and it was time for me to resume my studies.

  “When?”

  “Dakarai and I will come for you just before dusk.” Mikael’s smile did nothing to mask the sadness in his eyes. The mischievous little boy was gone and the somber man, my guide and mentor, had returned.

  I nodded and walked him to the door. “Before dusk.”

  “It’s an important time of day.” He grasped my shoulders. “You know this. Why?”

  I searched my mental card catalog for important times of day and came up blank. I knew I was looking in the wrong section. Dusk.

  Something clicked.

  “Vespers hour.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  DAKARAI LED MIKAEL AND me into a small meditation room located on the bottom level of our Tower. He said nothing as I took in the plain space. The Order was a fan of anything ornate, so the unadorned red walls, fat wax candles, and low pillows seemed out of place.

  The only object of note was the shrine in the back corner. On it rested three statuettes. The two on the sides were archetypal renderings of the Judeo-Christian God and Devil.

  It was the center image that sent ice through my veins. A replica of the image I had seen in the High Council’s chambers watched me from beneath the bodiless hooded cape. The tattered hem was carved to give the appearance of an eternal wind. The message was clear.

  No apocalypse, earthly or heavenly, would move this being. It was as eternal as the deities we’d long worshiped, and it would endure. Its children and our mission would endure.

  The strangest outcome of the New Year’s Eve tragedy was directly related to my senses. She had gone all but dormant. She was angry that a new entity had encroached upon my mind. It was as silent as it was massive, taking root in every part of my brain and claiming a portion of my soul.

  I could sense people from a distance, especially those familiar to me. I knew when Dakarai awoke each day, not because I heard him, but because there was a subtle shift in my awareness. I knew when he had visitors before they exited the elevator. Mikael, who lived on another floor, had become just as palpable a presence in my mind.

  My new abilities weren’t confined to being their personal locator. I sensed everyone nearby. Their identity or signature just wasn’t as clear. I’d had a vague sense of when Jordy was making repairs in his gym and office. Danny and Cecilia were weaker signals, barely a blip on the horizon.

  They felt different. Some felt inherently good and appeared in various shades of white on my mental landscape. And while no one registered as inherently wrong, some, like Danny, felt malevolent and seemed darker than most.

  Dakarai, Jordy, and Mikael, however, didn’t register as any color. I had my suspicions but wasn’t quite ready to voice them or face the ramifications.

  Mikael tapped my shoulder. “Focus. What do you feel?”

  I took a few calming breaths and closed my eyes. This room had a signature distinct from anything I’d experienced. In the hallway, I’d felt the pressure of a thousand beings press against the edges of my awareness. They disappeared from my consciousness the moment I stepped inside.

  “Nothing,” I whispered, “absolutely nothing.”

  Dakarai smiled. “Neutral ground. It’s the perfect place for us to try my newest idea.”

  “As long as it doesn’t end with my death, I’m game.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Beyond the threshold lay a stone tunnel. It sloped gently for a couple of hundred yards before it curved out of sight. I had a gut feeling that it led to a chamber deep underground. I was certain that I’d find the answers to my questions there.

  I was completely and utterly positive that I didn’t want to find out. My experiences in the High Council’s chamber had all but sated my desire to traverse secret tunnels and hang out in caves. Whatever creatures lay below could suck a big toe if they’d anticipated getting their hands on me again.

  What were they thinking taking me somewhere underground? If their fears were correct, an uncontrolled explosion would be nearly as dangerous. We needed a Plan B, one that included a cabin at the edge of some woods. Ideally, I’d be near a large body of water, but I’d accept a nice lake. I’d live alone, and the monotony would be broken by visits from Dakarai and Mikael. They’d bring everything I’d order online, fresh food and supplies. And when they found the people who killed my parents, they’d hand them over and let me have at them. Hell, I’d be open to being the executioner on the lake.

  Anything was preferable to going underground.

  As if I had a choice.

  I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and strode forward as if I was the biggest, baddest monster to walk those halls. Mikael and Dakarai followed a few beats behind.

  Unlike the trip to the High Council’s chambers, nothing was foreboding or threatening about our descent. No dark creatures of the night or magic attacked us as we descended a dizzying circular staircase. Even the wraiths stayed away.

  Less than ten minutes later, the tunnel ended at an oak door, a twin to the one above us.

  Dakarai came up to my side and smiled. “Welcome, sister.”

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  Dakarai invited Mikael to join us on the low cushions in the middle of the room and lit a single candle.

  “Where are we?” I asked in a hushed voice.

  “We are in a room specifically designed to repel strong energies, both negative and positive. It’s a place where one can meditate without the world pressing in on you.” Dakarai smile was brief. “I am often here.”

  Mikael nodded. “I come here sometimes when the visions are bad. Others use it although I don’t ask why.”

  “Why are we here?” I gestured around the room.

  “Meditation.”

  I groaned. Since my arrival, I’d learned every form of meditation from Dakarai. The goal had been to teach me how to find my center of calm whenever She decided to join the party. It hadn’t worked.

  “Today, we will try to focus on the connection between your emotional state and the raw power inside of you. If you can remain calm, we can begin teaching you to manipulate that po
wer safely.”

  “Will this help?”

  Dakarai rubbed his forehead and muttered his doubts under his breath. “We won’t know unless we try. Shall we?”

  Mikael patted my knee with a kind smile. “You’re in good hands. The good news is if it doesn’t work, you’ll be able to check it off your list.”

  The adage “it can’t hurt” no longer applied to me. If it didn’t work, I’d likely kill my only two friends and cause structural damage to the compound. If it did and I could learn the kind of control Jude and Livie had over their powers, there was a strong possibility of regaining my freedom.

  “Okay. I’m ready. How are we doing this?”

  Dakarai smiled. “Trataka. Candle flame meditation. In our previous sessions, we’ve worked on mindfulness. Tell me the core principles.”

  School was in session.

  “By focusing on the present, my current task, I can learn to shut out the surrounding noise. The goal is to be at the moment at all times.”

  “Has this technique worked for you in other situations?”

  I thought for a long moment. “At the gym,” I said, “I block out the noise from the machines and the voices from everyone else. My attention is on my form and my body’s performance. It’s cut down on injuries.”

  Mikael smiled. “Excellent example, sestra. You told me you meditate at night.”

  “Yes. When my brain is on overload, I use the breathing techniques to quiet the monkey mind.”

  “Good. Trataka will bring your focus away from your breath and will focus your attention on just one thing - the flame.”

  Dakarai must have read the confusion on my face. He smiled slightly. “The flame is an external manifestation of the power within you — your energy, Jude’s manipulation of the wind, and Olivia’s control over thoughts and memories. Your task is to identify the source within you and remain mindful of it at all times. As you sit with that power, you will learn how to control it because it will be an extension of yourself, not an invasive supernatural squatter.”

  I snickered as I imagined my consciousness standing next to Her on a picket line outside the building where my squatter currently resided. We held signs that said, “Go back to where you came from!” and “Eminent Domain does not apply to our body!”

  She threw rocks at one of the slimy tentacles descending from one of the highest windows and missed. We briefly considered a rocket launcher but decided against anything that could cause permanent damage to the building itself.

  Mikael snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Where did you go?”

  “Away from this lesson.” Dakarai’s disapproval made me feel like I was ten years old. “How can we teach you control if you go off on mental side trips?”

  I ducked my head in shame and willed away images of the building and invasive tentacles. “Okay, okay. I’m back and ready.”

  Dakarai let out a weary sigh. “That’s fine for now. As I said, as you gain control internally, your relationship with your abilities will transform from parasitic to symbiotic.”

  “That means it will no longer take over as it pleases. There will be cooperation and trust,” Mikael said.

  “Yeah, thanks. I figured that part out.” I winced at his hurt expression. “Sorry. I’m just anxious.”

  He nodded and closed his eyes.

  Dakarai’s patience was wearing thin. He glared at us and spoke louder. “You’ll learn to summon those abilities at will. Watch.”

  His eyes returned to the flame and remained silent as the tension flowed from his body. He lifted his right hand slowly and wiggled his fingers.

  The overhead lights in the room flickered on and off several times until he closed his hand in a fist. Then he directed his hand toward the empty pillow to his right. Like a puppet with strings, it rose and hovered two feet above the ground. Without warning, the pillow was thrown across the room and exploded into a mess of feathers and stuffing.

  Gone were the humor and gentleness from Dakarai’s expression. His features had hardened and made him look like a predator. A killer. All that power at the mere snap of his fingers.

  I was intoxicated.

  “This is child’s play, a mere taste of my abilities. Shall we explore yours?”

  “Yes.”

  Dakarai’s hypnotic voice enveloped me. “Close your eyes. Sit with your spine straight and relax your muscles. Take five deep breaths. Feel the air enter and exit your lungs and find that comfortable breath.”

  I adjusted my posture and focused on my breath until I found the space between each inhalation and exhalation.

  “Now, open your eyes slowly. Allow your gaze to come to the flame. Ignore the wick. Keep your eyes trained on the flame itself. Let it occupy all of your focus. When your mind wanders, acknowledge the thought and put it away. Focus on nothing but the flame.”

  My peripheral vision began to disappear, and soon all I could see were gradients of light that flickered and frolicked with joy. It was the kind of light I associated with evenings, the moment when day fades into night. It was beautiful. I wanted to merge with it and remain in this place forever.

  As soon as the thought formed, an invisible force pulled me away and threw me into the void. I screamed. I begged and tried to barter pieces of my soul. I offered deals to the devil and made promises to God. They remained silent and allowed me to be dragged away from the one place I’d been happy.

  The void disappeared, and a city began to form in the distance. Around me, men and women walked along dusty roads, too intent on their destination to notice my arrival. The sun’s intensity evaporated any hint of moisture. Sweat disappeared from my skin almost instantaneously and left a layer of dried and cracked salt. I wanted to crawl into the shade and wait for this experience to end.

  Across the road, however, I spied a boy no older than ten staring at me. He had deep chestnut skin, eyes that seemed too big for his body, and a mischievous grin. He stuck his tongue out at me and ran into the market.

  I ran after him. As the only person who apparently could see me, I figured he probably knew who or what could send me home. He weaved through the rows of stalls with practiced ease. Every hundred yards or so, he paused to turn, point, and laugh at me. As soon as I got within shouting distance, he dashed away.

  I zigzagged around women in long dresses and beautiful hijabs who examined the wares of various stalls and men who laughed as they shared their meals. The boy was nowhere to be seen. I pushed my way to the edge of the market and leaned against a building to catch my breath.

  This area wasn’t safe. The women here were different from those in the market. They were hard and angry. They shouted at the men in the stalls and brandished weapons until their prices were met.

  The men scared me just as much as the women. They gave off a predatory vibe. They stalked the women and weaker men, pulling them into dark corners and committing unspeakable acts. Victims walked out dazed, bloody and broken if they walked out at all.

  The boy screamed nearby. I chased after the sound and froze at the mouth of an alley.

  Men were beating the boy with sticks and leather straps. He sobbed as a foot connected with his ribs. The men were going to kill him.

  I tried to run into the alley, but something rooted me in place. A deep male voice whispered in my ear.

  “You can do nothing to help him. Watch, Jasper, and see your fate.”

  The boy’s cries transformed into howls as he wrapped his thin arms around himself and curled into a ball. His attackers, those sick bastards, exalted in his pain and redoubled their attack. Each strike was more violent than the last, spraying the child’s blood on their clothes and faces.

  Helpless and broken, the boy stilled. The men cried out in surprise and bumped into one another as they scrambled away from him. For the first time since the attacks had intensified, I saw him. His eyes, once playful, were a glassy white. He pushed himself to his knees, flung his arms out to his sides and let out a scream of hatred and defiance.
/>
  White light exploded from within the boy with the force of a bomb. Its destruction passed over and around me, the intense light overwhelming my vision. The boy’s screams transformed into sobs of abject terror.

  The bonds that had immobilized me earlier loosened their hold. I grabbed onto the wall next to me and used it to guide and steady me as I crawled toward him. My hand touched a hot, sticky puddle. I raised it to my face and smelled rust. Someone’s blood dripped through my fingers. My stomach roiled, but I kept moving. The boy needed me.

  My vision returned. I glanced around once and vomited. The boy stood in a circle of destruction, drenched in the blood of his enemies. Their bodies had been reduced to large chunks of charred flesh that radiated out from him in a perfect circle.

  The boy’s sightless eyes found mine. His lips formed a single word.

  “Run.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  THE BOY LIFTED A skinny, trembling arm and pointed at me.

  “Run,” he screamed. “Run!”

  My feet propel me backward until I reach what used to be the end of the alley. The boy spared me one last glance before curling into himself and let out an agonizing wail. Armageddon had arrived. The market had been flattened and scorched to the ground. The smell of blood and burnt skin and death clogged my nose and clung to me like a second skin. It was too much.

  I ran.

  The market was a scene from a horror movie. Everyone around me was either dead or dying. The blast hit them before they could register the danger and died mid-sentence. Old men in the middle of a chess game were gone. The vendors and the wares they’d been hawking were nothing but ashes.

  The knowledge that they hadn’t suffered allowed me to keep moving forward through the rubble. Beyond the center of the market, the landscape changed. Damaged buildings had become makeshift shelters. Those whole enough to walk picked through the bodies and carried away the barely living. Women sobbed over their loved ones and children huddled and rocked in groups.