Aeonian Dreams

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Aeonian Dreams Page 24

by Morgan J. Muir


  I must nothing, child, Kasha said and waved her away. Mariah found her spirit body forced back as though she’d been physically pushed. Sophus walked cautiously toward the woman, his pale blond hair gleaming in the sunlight as it curled, tauntingly beautiful around his perfect face.

  “Now here’s a curiosity,” he crooned as he walked around her, looking her up and down and taking in her scent. “Your heart beats, blood flows through your veins, yet there remains something very strange about you. Your eyes speak of seeing ages.”

  Nana stood still, unresponsive with her eyes forward.

  “There is something terribly familiar about you, as well,” Sophus mused as he completed his circuit and stepped away from her, tapping his chin as he thought. “Perhaps I housed a family member of yours once.”

  A muscle flexed in Nana’s jaw and Sophus nodded.

  “Ah, I see. And you are here to … what? Exact revenge?” Sophus said, amused. “I’ll have you know that everyone who comes here come of their own free will. I force no one to accept my hospitality.”

  “Of that I am well aware,” Nana said curtly.

  “So you do speak.” Sophus grinned again. “Tell me, what is your name?”

  Nana glared at him defiantly, her platinum hair glimmering in the morning sunlight. “My name is Kasha, and I am of the Zyanya line.”

  Mariah gasped, grateful that her physical body would not mimic the reflexive motion and give away her surprise. Nana was also a Zyanya woman? It made so much sense, but what was the relation? And more importantly, why had Nana not told her?

  “Zyanya. Now that is a name I have not heard in a long, long time,” Sophus said with a nod. “I have heard the tales your people cling to that a woman of that line will destroy me, and so I have a standing policy to kill outright any of that line who come. Hope is a dangerous thing, after all. Honestly, though, what is it that you think you, a mere mortal, could do to me?”

  A memory floated back to Mariah of similar words she herself had spoken to Nana. What could a mortal have possibly done against someone like him? He could have crushed my head with the flick of his finger … Did you just send me there to die? Had Nana come just to be killed? Surely there had to be more to her plan than that.

  “I have come to destroy you,” Nana said calmly, returning her gaze to the distance.

  “Please, tell me, how do you plan to accomplish this feat? I do love a good joke,” Sophus said with a laugh.

  “I am not a mere mortal.”

  Sophus’s face darkened behind a forced smile, reappraising her. “And just what, pray tell, gives you that idea?”

  Nana looked Sophus squarely in the eye before responding. “I am the child of the woman who prophesied your demise. I am the daughter of Ka’í Zyanya.”

  Mariah found herself nodding, the pieces starting to fall into place. Nana had told her that Ka’í was an ancestor of hers and that Nana herself had never had children. If Mariah was from the line of first children, all of whom were daughters, then Nana would have been a younger daughter to this Ka’í. But that still did not explain Nana’s more unusual qualities, qualities that, beyond the dreaming, Mariah had not shared with her as a mortal.

  “Ka’í,” Sophus mused. His voice remained light and flippant, but the dark look of danger remained in his eyes. “Yes, I believe I remember her; she was a most beautiful and amazing woman, for a mortal. I must admit, though, that I have a difficult time believing your story. First, you look almost nothing like her, and second, and more importantly, she lived at least two centuries ago. I’ll tell you what: you are obviously delusional. I shall give you this one chance to turn around and go home before I kill you and put you out of your misery.”

  “And here all this time I thought you liked curiosities, delighted in puzzles,” Nana said scornfully. “Is there nothing at all about this that perks your interest, or has your mind grown dull and useless after all those years sulking in a cave?”

  Why are you taunting him? Mariah cried out. He will kill you!

  “I am hardly dull.” Sophus scowled. “And I do not appreciate being insulted in my own home. This is your last chance to leave.”

  “Bah! You will kill me when my back is turned, you coward. Just as you kill all those who would leave. You’re afraid someone will find you here, that someone will take all that you have and leave you crippled and helpless as you left the Slaver.”

  “You know nothing!” Sophus cried out and lifted her into the air by the front of her shirt. “Nothing.”

  Mariah tried to rush toward Nana to help but found that something held her back — the ghost woman’s hand touching her lightly on the wrist. Unable to return to her body, she found herself immobilized in the spirit world, helpless to do anything but listen and watch.

  “I know that Ka’í escaped,” Nana gasped out, “and I know why she left.”

  Sophus pulled her close to his face. “Humor me.”

  “She left that I might live. You would have killed us both.”

  Mariah was stunned. Ka’í had been pregnant when she’d escaped? But by whom? Men weren’t allowed in Sophus’s domain; they never had been, and the women weren’t allowed to leave.

  “Of course. I should have seen it sooner,” Sophus said to himself. “The hair, the smell …. ” Dropping his façade and shifting his hand to her neck, Sophus demanded, “Who else knows of this?”

  “There are none living who know,” Nana said as she struggled for breath.

  They remained in silence, each studying the other even as Nana’s life slowly drained from her, as she grasped futilely, at the hand on her neck. Sophus’s face hardened into something that frightened Mariah, a look that lay bare the darkness within the man.

  “You are no child of mine,” he said finally, and with a sudden, jerking movement tore Nana’s head from her body. With a snort of disgust, he tossed them both to the ground and turned back toward her.

  The shock of it jerked Mariah back to her body. She watched Sophus as he stalked past, not bothering to even look her way. As he disappeared into the cave, she turned back to the body on the ground. Mariah was stunned. Just like that? After all of Nana’s assurances, the visions of fire; after all the lead-up, Sophus had simply killed her. Mariah’s only remaining friend in this world was gone. She stared down at the lifeless body below her.

  You were supposed to help me even the odds, she whispered bitterly, feeling alone.

  And so I have, Kasha said from beside her. Mariah whirled around to find the spirit of her mentor standing beside her. A momentary relief washed over her as she realized Kasha would still be there to help her.

  How?! You’ve merely angered him and gotten yourself killed. I thought your bones were supposed to be impervious to vampires.

  My bones, I imagine, are made of the same stuff as yours. However, my flesh was, in many ways, granted to me from my mother. It was the flesh that tore, not the bones, Kasha replied calmly.

  And yet you’re still dead! How is this supposed to help me destroy him?

  I have given you all that you will need. It is up to you to discover how to use it to its best advantage, Kasha said softly.

  What do you mean, ‘it is up to me?’ Mariah shouted, her anger, pain, and frustration eddying about her like a wind in the dream world. How is this possibly any better than it was before? I need you here to help me!

  I cannot stay. I am drawn to the land of our forebears.

  But the others — they stayed for so long. They followed me, haunted me. How is it that they could stay, yet you cannot? Mariah asked, desperately clutching for anything that might make Nana remain.

  I am at peace. I have fulfilled my purpose here and, more importantly, I know it.

  How can you say that? Mariah countered, even as she realized it was a losing argument. Sophus and Theron still live. Miguel is still trapped. Nothing has been fulfilled and I still need your help.

  It was never my destiny to stop them or to free Miguel. The only person with
that ability is you, Nana said, gently resting her hand on Mariah’s shoulder. I have given you all that you will need. It is time for me to go.

  Mariah fell into the older woman’s arms, hugging her tightly as though she could hold her there. But she could not, and Nana faded from her grasp to leave Mariah, once more, alone.

  Chapter 24

  Mariah stood for a time where she was, staring blindly toward the horizon. She heard Iráma come out and move Nana’s body from the entrance, taking it away, presumably for the scavengers. Mariah was Nana’s only family left; she would have to ensure the body was properly buried. Then, in a few years, she would dig up the bones and rebury them, following the Wayuu tradition. But she could not right now. It was too dangerous. If Sophus realized she had a connection with this woman, with the Zyanya line, he would certainly destroy her, too. She would need to destroy him first, but how?

  Iráma returned and handed Mariah a letter. Without saying anything, lest they be overheard, Mariah took it. Her name was on the sealed envelope in Nana’s stilted scrawl, with the words “for after” beneath. She didn’t want to read it now. She didn’t want to hear excuses, or reasoning, or kind words. The pain of Nana’s death was still too fresh, and Mariah was too angry. She opened it anyway and two words stared up at her.

  Carry on.

  Mariah snorted, bitter. What kind of advice was that supposed to be? It was no more helpful than getting killed for no reason or cryptic remarks. Mariah blinked her eyes, wishing she could cry. Carry on, Nana had said. Mariah needed to remove Sophus.

  Mariah still knew of no way to actually destroy a vampire, save perhaps by fire. Nothing else in nature could damage them; their bodies were harder and stronger than stone. Sophus was so much faster and smarter than she; how could she possibly catch him on fire without endangering herself as well? That assumed he’d even catch fire. Certainly her hair had burned, but that did not guarantee that a solid body would as well. What if he just smoldered for an eternity? The image of a smoldering, raging Sophus made her shudder. Mariah did not fear the fire as she once had, but still held out hope for a life beyond her fated task. No, destroying him by fire was too risky, too much of an unknown. Perhaps if there were no other alternatives.

  There had to be another way. How had Sophus removed Theron’s limbs? Could it have been simple force? Perhaps she could manage to do the same to Sophus, catch him unawares and disarm him, so to speak. A memory floated back to her, of afternoons spent with Miguel, learning to fight hand-to-hand. Surely they would apply here. That was it, she decided. Somehow, she would find a way to pull him limb from limb.

  With a new determination, Mariah squared her shoulders and returned inside. She would take care of Sophus first. Then she would be free to properly mourn and bury her friend and mentor, Kasha Zyanya, her Nana. She passed a tired and worn out Iráma in the hall. Be careful, she signaled to Mariah before sitting down to rest on a bench. Mariah nodded and continued in.

  It bothered her more than she wanted to admit, to see Iráma so haggard, so old. She headed toward Sophus’s rooms through the darkening halls. Though it had only been a few months since last Mariah had seen her, and the graceful woman still held herself with poise, Iráma seemed defeated. It felt as though her friend had grown old during Mariah’s absence. Mariah hoped it wasn’t the sickness that had taken so many of the younger women. She doubted that it was, as almost none of the older women had been affected by it.

  Returning her attention to what she was about to do, Mariah opened the doors to Sophus’s chambers and smiled widely.

  “What an exciting morning,” she greeted him as she approached. He looked up at her from behind a desk where he stood, studying a map, the fireplace behind him lit and burning brightly. In the past the large fire would have intimidated her, which was likely the reason he’d had it made. Mariah gestured to the map. “That looks new. is it what you wanted to show me earlier?”

  “Indeed, it is.”

  “It’s beautifully crafted,” Mariah said, genuinely impressed at the quality as she took a closer look, the smell of the ink rising off it. It was a large map detailing the western shores that bordered the Atlantic ocean. The islands, though small, were elegantly detailed, and the writing was exquisite and clearly legible. It was as much a work of art as a functional map, and obviously the result of a dedicated master mapmaker. “Where did you get it?”

  “Maracaibo, actually. Your old hometown.”

  Mariah nodded. “So far south? When you said you’d gone to the city, I assumed that was Riohacha, but Maracaibo makes sense.” She resisted the urge to look up at him, certain she could feel his eyes on her as she continued to study the map.

  “Yes, it was quite a prosperous venture. I found many little trinkets and a few surprise gems that I’d never thought to find.”

  “Like this?” she asked, giving him a smile.

  “And some of far greater value,” he said, as he walked around the table towards her. She was startled by what she saw in his face. It was shockingly close to the look he’d worn as he’d decapitated Nana, dark and dangerous.

  “And what would that be?” she asked, trying to sound interested rather than worried.

  “Well, I was passing through a part of the city that I had not been to in years,” Sophus said. “I happened upon a well-kept compound with high walls and a beautiful home inside. I inquired as to the owner of the home. Can you imagine my surprise when he said it belonged to the young master Álvarez?”

  “I can’t see why that would surprise you,” Mariah said, keeping her voice calm. How much could he have discovered? “You know very well my father was a wealthy merchant. Why wouldn’t my old home still be in the family?”

  “Of course it would. I was merely surprised I had never encountered it before,” Sophus continued. “Naturally, I was overcome by my curiosity and decided to see the place that had produced a woman such as yourself, so I presented myself at the gate claiming to be an old friend of the Doña Mariah Álvarez, and so they let me in.

  “One of the household gave me a tour as we waited for the young Don Álvarez. When he finally met me in the gardens and introduced himself, Álvaro Álvarez del Mar”—Sophus paused in his narrative and chuckled—“I thought that surely I must be mistaken. Surely, if he was the child of my dear Mariah, she would have told me.”

  Sophus paused expectantly as though waiting for Mariah to deny it. Frantically she cast about for proof that he was lying. Perhaps he had just heard the name and made assumptions ….

  “Surely she would not have neglected to tell me something so important?” Sophus took one of Mariah’s hands. “But, I could see that it was true. He looked the spitting image of you. Certainly, his eyes were green and his dark hair had more curl, but everything else about him was so similar, even his scent. Then he was kind enough to introduce his foster parents, Bethany and Benito, who had raised him after his mother died shortly after he was born.”

  Mariah’s mind spun. There was no way he could have guessed at this. Whether he had actually met her son or just seen him from a distance, he knew.

  “I never felt that it was any of your business,” she said flippantly, hoping to throw him off. “Honestly, I don’t even remember him much.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he hissed, tightening his grip on her hand. “What else have you been keeping from me? I trusted you with my world, my home, everything I have worked for, and you have betrayed me! Do you really believe I find it coincidental that you ask to stay behind in the native’s village to seek out an ‘old nurse,’ then some loony woman shows up here threatening to destroy me at the same time that you return? I’m not an idiot. What are you planning?”

  “Nothing!” Mariah protested as Sophus twisted her arm around behind her, forcing her down. “Please, my lord, it was just a coincidence! I told you that some nut had found me, but I swear I had nothing to do with what happened!”

  “Why did you lie to me? What else are you keeping from me?” he pe
rsisted, pushing her to the ground. The twisting of her arm didn’t really hurt, but she could feel the joints and the flesh straining and she was frightened of what might happen if they gave. Would she lose her arm forever or was there a way to fix herself? There had to be, else Theron wouldn’t continue insisting that his limbs be returned, but would Sophus return her arm if she lost it to him? What if he burned it?

  “I didn’t, I swear,” she pleaded, pushing back a sudden surge of hatred for him and gambling that the show of meekness would help allay his fears. “I never lied to you. I just didn’t think the child would hold any interest for you, as he holds none for me. There is nothing else.” She dropped her head to the floor, struggling to control her face.

  “There had better not be,” he hissed, loosening the tension on her arm but not letting go, “because if I find out otherwise I will destroy your home, your family, and your son.”

  It was the last straw. She could wait no longer. He had threatened her people for too long, and she could handle that. He had stolen her life, her husband, and her family from her, and she held that in, too. But the thought of him taking the life of her son was more than she would bear. The fiery anger that had burned in her cold, still heart blazed up, and the fires throughout the room seemed to flare up in sympathy. Enraged, she swung her free hand around toward him as Miguel’s self-defense lessons flashed through her mind. Before she knew it, the thunderous sound of a boulder crashing onto a stone floor shook through the room, and Mariah’s hand was caught in the grip of Sophus.

  She tried to yank her arm free, snarling at the older vampire even as he twisted her arm around and over her head, forcing her face away from him, her arms crossed before her. She could feel the anger from him as he pulled her arms tightly across her body and trapped her against him. She pushed herself down, dropping beneath her arms and attempting to spin away, but he was quicker and countered her move. She kicked out, hooking her leg beneath his knee to drop him while she yanked her wrists from his grasp, but he was stronger. Though she managed to kick his leg out from under him and knock him off balance, she could not break his grip. As they fell, she felt him wrap his arms more securely around her, one pinning her arms, the other grasped her head, twisting her neck, and his legs immobilizing hers. When they hit the ground, Mariah realized her situation had gone from bad to worse, and she struggled against him.

 

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