Viator (The Viator Chronicles Book 1)

by Ralston-Brooks, Jane

  “He wasn’t so kind to me. One of the first times I saw him he threw me against the wall of a cavern—almost knocked me senseless. I think I still have a lump on the back of my head,” Erin said.

  Concern showed in Michael’s eyes, and he frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to throw you so hard.”

  “My two favorites.” A very tall young woman walked up to them, and her long white gown seemed to float over the ground. Her dark hair was piled on top of her head, held in place by silver cords and gems that glittered like stars. She reached out and grasped Michael’s and Bruce’s hands in her own, leaned forward, and brushed a kiss across each of their mouths.

  “Salve, Salina,” Michael said.

  Bruce draped one arm around Salina’s shoulders. “It’s good to see you.”

  She caressed Bruce’s cheek with the palm of her hand. Then she looked at Erin. “What is this, this little one dressed as a viator?”

  “My name is Erin.” She almost took a step back, away from the penetrating gaze of the woman’s silver-blue eyes.

  Salina laughed, her voice almost musical. “Are you a viator?”

  “Erin is a worthy viator, Salina. She’s the one who helped me,” Bruce said.

  Salina opened her eyes wide and looked at Erin more closely. She tucked her hand into the bend of Bruce’s arm and pressed herself against him. “What would we have done if we had lost Bruce? But tell me, little girl, how did you manage to help him? How were you there at just the right time?”

  “What do you mean?” Erin asked.

  Michael laid a hand on Erin’s shoulder. “Erin has fought with me, too, and I was happy for her help. I am sure of her motives. Come, Salina, she has only been here once before, and she may not remember that visit. We want her to be willing to come back again.”

  Salina leaned toward Michael and kissed him. “You are so charming, dearest Michael. Come, Erin.” Salina took Erin’s hand. “Let me show you around Domus. There are people here whom you must meet.”

  Without looking back at Bruce or Michael, Erin followed Salina, who kept hold of her hand and led her to a table laid out with refreshments. She picked up a silver pitcher and poured golden wine from it into two tall, delicate crystal glasses. Picking up both, she handed one to Erin and raised hers. “Virtute et veritas.” “Courage and truth.”

  “Ita vero,” said Erin as she raised her glass to Salina’s, then drank a sip. The wine tasted like fresh pears, crisp and light. She immediately felt its effects, becoming more alert, more aware, as well as more relaxed. It truly did seem to give her courage and the ease to express the truth. She took another sip while Salina watched her over the edge of her own glass, smiling as if to herself.

  “So, little viator, you are truly the one who saved my dear Bruce?” Salina asked. “Tell me about it. Were you there when he was attacked and wounded?”

  Erin shook her head. “No. I was far away from him, looking for someone else. My son told me Bruce needed me, so I went after him but found a mortifer stalking him, ready to attack. I destroyed it before it reached him. But Bruce had already been injured, and I followed him to a tower, where he stopped and I was able to help him.”

  “Who stabbed him?” Salina asked.

  “I didn’t see. That happened before I got there.”

  “What did Bruce tell you? Did he tell you who it was?”

  “He said it was a friend—a dreamer. He said it was a dreamer’s treachery.” Erin frowned. “I am shocked. I don’t understand how such a thing could happen.”

  Salina paused a moment, regarding Erin. “After the loss of our beloved Sean, nothing surprises me. But come, let me introduce you to a few of the others here today.”

  She looked around, her blue eyes bright and intent in her fair face. A dark curl had come loose from its silver cord, and she casually brushed it out of her eyes and tucked it back into place.

  “And you, are you a viator?” Erin asked.

  Salina looked at her, a slight smile curling her rosy lips. She said, “No, I’m not a viator. I have never been in the world as you are.”

  “You’ve never … what?”

  “Ah, veni hic,” Salina said. She had spotted someone in the crowd.

  She led Erin toward a group of people standing around a fire blazing in an enormous fireplace. A dark-skinned, herculean man was speaking enthusiastically, swinging his muscular arms over his head as they all laughed. They were dressed similarly to Erin, with long, dark pants, jackets, boots, and some with hats in their hands. They all held full mugs.

  Salina stood at the edge of the group. “I rejoice to see you again, Ariston,” she said.

  The large man turned to her and bowed low. “Salina! Your beauty and grace overwhelm me.”

  Nearly as tall as Ariston, Salina rested her hands on his shoulders and kissed his mouth. “My dearest,” she said. She turned to the others seated there. “Salve, Eric. Quid agis? Et tu, Camille? Are you well after that surprise attack? Frank, it is good to see you here again. Quid agis, Elsie; is your daughter well?” Salina kissed each of them, and they all greeted her in return.

  “Have any of you met Erin yet? She has not been here before—or maybe once?” She turned to Erin with a questioning glance. “Erin, here is a handful of our finest: Camille has helped hundreds of dreamers over the years, and Frank has spent every night of the past seven years doing our work. Elsie was injured recently, but is now healed and fighting again, and Eric has fought steadily for more than twelve years.”

  “And what will you say about me, my lady?” Ariston asked, grinning broadly, his arms folded across his massive chest.

  “What can I say about Lord Ariston that he hasn’t already said more eloquently himself?” laughed Salina, caressing his arm. She kissed him again slowly this time. When she broke away, she turned to Erin. “This is Lord Ariston.”

  Erin bowed slightly. “I am very pleased to meet all of you. I have been fighting for only two years now, and until recently I didn’t know there were any others. This is a real pleasure.”

  Salina smiled. “Erin saved Bruce’s life when he was knifed. She has fought alongside Michael as well.”

  They murmured to each other, and Elsie said, “I am glad you were nearby to help him, Erin. It is a pleasure to have you here.”

  “Yes, it is always good to meet another viator. There are too few of us these days,” Eric said. “You are most welcome here.”

  Salina, who had been whispering into Ariston’s ear, now began to move away. “Erin, enjoy your visit. Vale, my friends.” She glided away, shimmering as the sunshine fell on her.

  Ariston pulled up a chair and sat down. He looked Erin up and down and said, “And what brought you here, little one?”

  “I … I don’t know for sure. I was on the beach across the river, and knew I needed to come here.”

  “No, I mean the first time. Who brought you here the first time?” asked Ariston again.

  “The first time?” Erin paused. “I don’t remember the first time.”

  “Hmm. You don’t remember anything?”

  The others exchanged glances.

  “Who brought her here?” Eric asked.

  “When did you say you started fighting?” Elsie added.

  “It has been about two years now.”

  “It is strange that you don’t remember your call,” Elsie said.

  “I do remember speaking with someone, but it was very dark, the night my husband William was killed. I … wandered far across a river trying to find him and bring him back to me. I wasn’t fast enough, though.” It all came back to her as if it had just happened. Sorrow washed over her, and she bowed her head.

  “We all remember who first called us and brought us here,” Ariston said. His face was angry, his voice harsh. “Since Sean, one of our own, was betrayed, we’ve seen others ambushed, and we know it was through deception. But who?”

  Erin stared at him with horror. The group was silent as they watched her.

&nbs
p; “And you think I may not be who I say I am … that I may be responsible?” She shook her head. “No, no, I fight those creatures. I destroy them. That first night—the night my husband died—I remember this: I was attacked by a mortifer, fought him, and made my way back across the river, where a young man came to me. He was dressed in brown. I think his name was...” She paused, looking up as she concentrated, and then she closed her eyes. “He said his name was Conn.”

  They stared at her.

  Camille whispered, “Conn. It was Conn.”

  The others nodded.

  “There you are, Erin. I wondered what Salina had done with you.” Michael strode up to the group. He turned around in front of the fireplace, leaned his back against the mantel and spread his arms out across its width. He was as tall as Ariston. He frowned as he eyed them, and finally he looked at Erin.

  “Have our friends been entertaining you?” Before she had a chance to answer, he went on, “They are naturally cautious. As you have seen, sometimes when we trust, it comes back to bite us. But come with me. More time has passed than you realize, and I can show you an easier way home than the one by which you came.”

  “I am very glad to have met all of you,” Erin said as she looked at each and paused to hold Ariston’s eyes with her own.

  He touched his lips with his fingers and bowed slightly. “May the light go with you, little one.”

  Michael led her through the room, filled with people now, and greeted those he passed with a smile or a quick hello. Some wore long robes similar to Salina’s, and possessed the same translucent beauty, but most were dressed plainly, in simple pants, jackets, and boots; some of the women wore long skirts, many with knives or swords fastened to their belts. Erin noticed Bruce and Salina sitting on a small couch somewhat apart from everyone else. Salina sat next to him, their heads were close together, and they spoke quietly. Then she kissed his face as she unbuttoned his shirt. Erin saw a huge red gash on his stomach, and Salina spread her hands across it. Erin turned away to catch up with Michael, and they continued weaving their way through the crowd.

  When they reached the front door, Erin turned around to look once more at the people in this strange room. Sunshine poured through the windows, and in the distance a tenor’s voice rang out in song. She wanted to stay.

  Michael had stopped, waiting for her. She looked up at his face. “Must we go?”

  His eyes softened. “Yes, you’ve been here a long time. You need to get back.”

  She nodded, and they turned to leave.

  “Salina must keep very busy with so many viators to caress,” she said.

  “What?” He looked at Erin and knotted his brow. “Salina has her own work to do, and she does it well. Things are not always what they appear to be.”

  They walked down the street the way Erin had come, past the pastel houses and lovely gardens. The sky blazed red and purple as the sun set, and a slight breeze carried the fragrance of honeysuckle and stirred the leaves on the trees.

  “What is she?” Erin asked.

  “Who? Salina?”

  “Yes, she told me she had never lived in my world—our world. Where does she come from?” Erin asked.

  “Salina and the others like her live here between the branches of the great river. They help us with our work and help others in different ways as well. I’ve seen her heal a deep gash on a man’s arm with a song. Her touch is even more potent.”

  “Michael, why did the others distrust me so?”

  He slowed his pace. “We have all become wary, and you should be wary, too.”

  “Of treachery?”

  “Yes. Here we are—we can take this boat across.”

  They had walked down to the river’s edge where a small pier jutted from the shore into a little bay. No houses stood nearby, only a few trees in the grass and the rocky shore of the river. A boat was tied up to the wharf with oars resting in the bottom. Erin stepped into it while Michael untied the line and jumped in after her. He picked up the oars and started to row while she turned around and watched the shore fade into the twilight.

  Michael’s strokes took them out into the middle of the river, and all was calm. The first stars glittered in the dark sky above. He stopped rowing.

  She couldn’t see his face in the shadows, but she could tell he hadn’t stopped to look at the stars; he was looking at her. Her heart beat faster. She looked back at him even though she couldn’t see his eyes. He was black in the shadows and sat very still.

  “You went to Gary Arthur in his dream. Do you know him?” Michael asked.

  Erin was startled. “Gary? I know him in day life. Why? Do you know him?”

  “I know him only in his dreams.”

  Erin’s heart beat several times in the silence.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Will you remember this in the waking world?” he asked.

  “Probably not. I try to remember these dreams, but they fade quickly. I get so frustrated.”

  “You don’t know who you are.”

  She waited for him to explain, and he finally said, “You would be wise not to visit Gary in his dreams. He puts you at risk because he doesn’t allow you to use your power. His beliefs prevent it.”

  Erin nodded. She didn’t like it but knew it was true. “Why don’t I remember these dreams?”

  He began rowing again and shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe you want to forget.”

  She frowned. She barely remembered Conn. The memory was as faint as her memories of being a toddler. A pain stabbed through her chest—William died the night she had met Conn.

  Michael stopped rowing. “Are you all right?”

  She caught her breath. “Yes. I was trying to remember more, but it’s painful.”

  “Just give it time.” He resumed his slow, rhythmic rowing.

  There was so much more Erin wanted to ask him, and she remembered something Salina had said.

  “Salina and the others mentioned someone named Sean. What happened to him?”

  He was silent for a moment, and she felt his eyes on her. “Sean was my youngest brother. A dreamer led him into an ambush. He was killed by mortifers.”

  “Killed? How? Surely not really killed.” Erin’s heart pounded harder, and her stomach felt queasy.

  He whispered, “Yes. In life, he suffered a brain aneurysm and never awakened.”

  The night was suddenly icy cold, and Erin shivered. She bent her head to her hands and covered her face, crumpling with exhaustion. Michael pulled out a blanket and handed it to her, and she gratefully wrapped it around her. The rough warm wool helped calm her trembling. She wanted to try to stay awake, though. She had so many more questions, but she lay down on the bench and held the blanket close.

  The sound of Michael’s rowing soothed her, and her consciousness drifted with the rise and fall of the boat. Time didn’t seem to matter any longer, so she was surprised when the hull of the boat finally scraped against rocks. Michael shipped the oars and reached over to touch her shoulder. She could barely open her eyes as he tucked the blanket more firmly around her and picked her up. Her head rested against his shoulder and neck, and she felt the roughness of his face. He smelled like pine trees in the evening, and it made her think of camping, warmth, and firelight. A sense of intimacy with this man rushed through her. She wrapped her arm around his neck and turned her lips to his warm skin. She pressed her face closer to him.

  “Are we already there?” she whispered.

  “What is it?” The voice sounded like Gary.

  “What?” she asked and opened her eyes. Gary was lying next to her, leaning on his elbow, his eyes drowsy. The room was dim and the blankets had fallen onto the floor. He smiled at her. “You were talking in your sleep.”

  She still felt as if she were in her dream, still felt as if Michael were carrying her. She could almost feel his arms, his face, and smell his scent.

  “I was dreaming,” she said. She pulled the blankets over them.


  Gary pulled her closer to him and buried his face in her hair. He relaxed and dozed off again, but Erin woke up completely. The dream had vanished. She was in bed with Gary. How had she let this happen?

  She waited a few minutes until she was sure Gary was asleep, and then she eased herself out of his embrace, slipped into her robe, and tiptoed down the stairs. Without a sound she went out the kitchen door and ran barefoot to the beach.

  Chapter 31

  The high tide lapped against the shore, and a cutting wind sent shivers through her body as Erin climbed onto a large driftwood log and sat down. The clouds hid any possible light from moon or star, but Erin welcomed the dark. Waves slapped against the log, splashing salty water into the air. She pulled her bare legs up close to her body and let the wind whip her robe around while her skin became a mass of goosebumps. She sighed and rested her head on her knees.

  How foolish she’d been to drink so much. And then to be so swept away that she slept with Gary in the same bed she’d shared with William, and with her children sleeping in the next rooms. Her stomach ached. She looked out over the water at the dark swells bringing in the tide. How did she feel about Gary? He was intelligent and fun. She liked him, and she was sure he cared about her. That was a start. He had been wonderful during the fiasco of a day on Orcas Island. His attention and obvious attraction to her were as intoxicating as the wine she’d had with dinner. Her grief had left her parched, and he had come into her life like a rainstorm.

  The sky grew lighter, the tide began to ebb, and Erin climbed off the log and stood still on the rocky beach. The cold wind had made her stiff and numb, and she felt chilled through to her bones. She picked up a handful of rocks and threw them one by one into the water.

  Pieces of her dream flitted through her mind—she saw the pastel houses, the sunshine, the laughing people. She saw Michael’s face and remembered his soft pine scent. She stood still on the beach, her heart pounding.

  She turned around and looked up at her house. A light switched on upstairs in her bedroom. Gary must be awake. Erin ran back into the house and up the stairs, where she could hear him talking to someone. He was on his phone. She quietly opened her bedroom door.