by Earl, Collin
Still, Artorius and Casey’s amazing feats came jumping to his mind: flash fist, getting hit by a car with no perceivable injury, unnatural speed and strength….
Monson cleared it all away. The implications were too much.
The conversation turned from there to lesser subjects. They were tired and their nerves strained. Marie was actually falling asleep in one of the large leather chairs.
“We should probably go,” said Grayson, pointing at Marie. “We’ve had quite the ordeal. Let’s regroup tomorrow.”
Grayson moved towards Marie, giving her a little shake to wake her. “Monson, have you discussed things with Artorius and Casey yet?”
Monson shook his head, shamefaced.
“Why? Why would you—” Grayson stopped and smiled, putting it together. “You’re scared of what they’ll say.”
Monson nodded. “I’ll find the right time. It’s just, I don’t want them—”
“Involved?” Grayson glanced at Marie. “I know what that’s like.”
Monson smiled. “I’ll tell them.”
“Make sure you do.”
Monson nodded again, and without any additional words, Grayson started to move towards the door with a yawning Marie close behind. Monson’s mind was starting to wander when, the moment Marie’s hand touched the door, a knock came from the other side. Assuming it was Casey and Artorius and he had forgotten to leave the door unlocked, Monson indicated for Marie to open the door, awaiting the shocked faces of his friends when they saw her. The shock was all Monson’s, however, when his visitor entered the room.
“Taris?”
Chapter 46 - Colors
“Hi Monson,” said Taris in a slightly sheepish voice. “I didn’t come at a bad time, did I?” she asked, gesturing to Marie and Grayson.
Taris was dressed casually in a tracksuit in her signature green. Her hair was tied in a ponytail and she wore very little makeup, quite the change from her usual covergirl look. Although her appearance was more relaxed, more natural, the forced smile creasing her face made her appear more upset than anything.
Monson stared at her, unsure as to what to say. Oh brother, he thought. As if I don’t have enough to deal with. What was she doing here, now of all times? Not that he was unhappy to see her, but he had not even changed, and he needed to meet Cyann.
Oh crap, thought Monson. Cyann. He had no idea what time it was. What was he going to do now?
“Of course not, my dear.” Grayson said in his southern drawl as he pulled back and to one side. “We were just leaving.”
Monson plunged into panic mode as Marie and Grayson exited towards the elevator. Was it his imagination or had Marie just winked at him? A small clearing of the throat brought him sharply back to the present.
“Would you like to come in?” He tried his best to look Taris in the eye, but found that it was not easy. “I’m sorry things are such a mess.”
“No, it’s fine.” Taris entered the room. “It’s really not that bad.”
He already knew this. He did, after all, have a butler. Though in Monson’s mind Brian could hardly be called a servant, he was expert at cooking and cleaning.
“Why don’t you sit down?” He gestured to the leather chairs in the center of the room. “Would you like something to drink?”
“That would be great.” Taris looked idly around the room, a mild look of curiosity creeping its way across her delicate features. Incredibly curious behavior. If she had come here for a reason, it did not seem to be weighing heavily on her mind. Maybe she was going to officially drop him. He was not sure and it was not like communication, silent or otherwise, was exactly their forte. Well, he was not going to make it easy on her. If she wanted to drop him, she was going to have to do it properly.
“I’m sorry.” Monson placed a couple of sodas on the coffee table and sat next to Taris. “Brian is pretty good at keeping us stocked, but he’s been a bit preoccupied lately.”
“What, no diet?” She turned her lip up in disgust.
He groaned inwardly. “I’m sorry. I just—”
She caught his hand. “Monson, I was kidding.”
She cracked open the can and took a sip. “So, Brian is your servant, right?”
“Yes and no,” he said, relishing the small talk. “I really think that he’s just here to keep an eye on me. At least, that’s the way it feels.”
“Oh. What about the other two?”
She gestured towards the door, plainly indicating Marie and Grayson.
“The guy in the chair is Grayson. He’s in my year,” replied Monson. “Actually, I’m surprised you don’t know him. He’s in our fifth period.”
She looked slightly embarrassed at that.
“What about the girl?” asked Taris, again not meeting his eyes. Her tone was casual, but she was interested and Monson had to wonder why.
“Marie? She’s apparently a childhood friend of Grayson’s. I guess she’s actually kind of a servant.”
“A servant?” Taris sounded a little surprised. “Not a very nice way to treat a childhood friend.”
Monson chuckled. “I suppose you’re right. But it seems to work for them.”
“She’s really pretty.”
He paused. How was he supposed to answer that?
“Taris, if you’re fishing for compliments, you don’t have to. Everyone knows how hot you are.”
Taris flushed and then giggled, smiling broadly at him—something he had not seen in a while. Though he would never admit it to her, it really did make him go a bit weak in the knees. The mood lightened considerably after that, though for some reason she still seemed slightly uncomfortable. Whether it was because of him and their troubles or some other reason, he did not know. He did know that Taris was laughing now. The tension that had filled the room at her entrance was gone. She seemed relaxed, cheerful and glad to be in his company.
“I like what they’ve done with the place.” Taris gazed around at the décor.
“You like what they’ve done with the place...?” Monson repeated in a confused voice.
Taris flushed again. It was actually very cute.
“What–what I mean is,” she stammered, “this is an amazing place.”
Monson had an odd feeling in his chest like a huge vice was squeezing the breath out of him. There was something wrong. Was Taris hiding something? The dots finally connected in Monson’s head. Taris had been here before, but why would she try and hide that?
“Let’s go somewhere, get out of here.”
Monson raised his eyebrow. Just like that? They were making up just like that? What about the crying, the fight, and ignoring of his phone calls? Was it all an act? Monson scowled, considering the situation carefully. Maybe he should just let it go. They were speaking again, and that was what mattered, right? No—he did not like that option either. He needed to know what she was still hiding from him and why. He quickly settled on a plan of action to let it go for now and see where this would take him. “Where do you want to go?”
“I have somewhere in mind.” Taris jumped to her feet. “Just follow me.”
“We’re really close to curfew,” Monson objected. “What if we get caught?” He let out a silent sigh, conscious of hiding it from Taris. He was emotionally and physically drained from his earlier experience and revelations—and also needed food in the world’s worst way—but Taris was giving him this look, a combination that spoke of disappointment and understanding, almost as if she was thinking, “Of course, why would he want to leave with me?”
Monson was taken aback. He wanted to grab Taris, shake her, and yell, “You’re Taris freakin’ Green, woman! Man up and act like it.”
But he threw on the brakes. Telling Taris to man up was like telling Tiger Woods he was good at golf. So very, very unnecessary. Monson glanced at her again. Of course he could not deny her.
“All right,” he agreed as he stood up. “But you are totally taking the blame if we get caught. I’m going to say that you held me
at gunpoint.”
“Deal, but I should tell you, that’s not very gentlemanly.”
He laughed. “Hey, can you wait for a moment while I run to my room?”
“Yeah, but hurry.”
Monson ran back to his room and grabbed a sweatshirt, hesitating as he caught a glimpse of the clock. He should be getting ready for his meeting with Cyann right about now, assuming that Indigo had actually followed through and given her the note. He grabbed his phone; nothing from Cyann or Indigo. Should he text her and tell her to just forget it? He did not want them to grow further apart, but what choice did he have?
“Monson, are you coming?” Taris called out from the other room. “We’d better hurry.”
“Yeah, I’m coming,” called Monson over his shoulder. He had to do something; he could not just leave it as it was. He tapped out a quick note to Cyann, attempting to sound apologetic and contrite.
Hey I know this is going to sound weird (especially considering I don’t even really know if you were going to go in the first place) but I can’t meet with you tonight, something came up. I want to meet with you though. We need to talk. Message me back when you get a chance.
Hope to hear from you,
MG
Not exactly what one would call poetic, but decent enough. At least he would get his point across. He pushed send.
“What are you doing?”
Monson spun on the spot, instinctively hiding the phone behind his back, but not before catching it on the silver chain that hung around his neck. There was a small snap as part of the clasp that held his grandfather’s gem broke, causing the whole thing to fall to the floor. He swore internally.
“I’m sorry I startled you.” Taris reached down to gather the gem and remnants of the broken jewelry.
“It’s OK,” sighed Monson with traces of exasperation in his voice. “You didn’t mean to.”
“What were you doing?” she repeated. She appeared tranquil but something told him that she was very aware of what he had been doing.
“Nothing of consequence.” He tried to appear nonchalant, but could tell she was not buying it.
She gave him a suspicious look, then playfully grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the door.
“Come on! The night isn’t getting any younger.”
Monson decided not to tell her she sounded like an old man right then. They left his apartment and moved to his elevator, doing their best to remain as quiet as possible. They made their way through the Atrium and out into the night, Taris leading them down an unexpected path, probably the last place Monson would have considered going; she was leading them towards the old dorms and the clearing that Grayson, Marie and Monson were in mere hours ago. Monson’s nerves really were at their end. They were out late, he guessed he had just made up with Taris, he was supposed to be meeting Cyann, and now after all that, they were heading towards a place where not long ago, Dawn was telling him to avoid at all costs. Dawn—he had to speak to Dawn.
Are you there?” he asked in the hollow of his mind, praying that Dawn would answer. Dawn answered immediately but something was different about his voice. It was quieter, for one thing.
“Yes, I am well aware of where you are. I cannot feel anything.”
“You knew what I was going to ask?” Monson suspected as much but he still did not like the idea.
“Of course, I do live in your head, after all. I know most of what is going on.”
“Good,” said Monson. “Then why don’t you take a break. I don’t think I need you for this part.”
“And miss the upcoming show?” Dawn let out a burst of laughter. It was very weird to hear laughter in his head that was not his own. “Not on your life.”
“Have I told you lately that you bug me?”
“I love you too.”
Then Dawn was off again, somewhere in the reaches of Monson’s mind, probably doing something that would serve to irritate him later.
“I can hear that, you know.”
Monson laughed, aloud this time, and by the time he finished, Dawn was completely gone. The laugh was not without consequences however, as the previously quiet Taris was now looking at him with concern in her eyes.
“Thought of something funny,” said Monson, trying to play it cool. It was a lame attempt, but it was better than trying to explain that he was laughing at the person inside his head. Just imagine that conversation. Surprisingly, however, Taris replied in a light, teasing tone.
“Having a little conversation with the person inside of your head, huh?’
Monson laughed again, harder this time.
“Yeah, something like that.”
The two of them lapsed into a distinctly more comfortable silence. Monson allowed Taris to guide him along the lighted path, and eventually the two of them came across the old dorm. They easily avoided the scattered debris, vegetation and construction equipment from Baroty’s rejuvenation project and deviated from the path taken by Monson earlier. They veered to the left of the structure, being careful not to disturb the unkempt grounds. An unkempt passage materialized among head-high bushes, and Taris took it without hesitation. An air of potent and intense impatience grew around her. Monson figured some explanation was in order.
“Where are we going?” His light whisper sounded playful. “I thought we weren’t allowed in this section of the grounds.”
“We aren’t, but you should feel special because I’m going to show you something spectacular. Not many people get this opportunity.”
“You’re baiting me,” Monson answered suspiciously. Taris replied with a devious smile.
“Maybe.”
Monson sighed. He was never going to understand this woman. Maybe she sensed his uneasiness or maybe it was just her flirtatious personality, but at that point, Taris turned towards him, catching him on his wrist. She looked at him directly, her green eyes bright as gleaming emeralds despite the darkness surrounding them. She pulled him to her, whispering.
“Trust me a little longer.” She tugged him even closer. “You won’t regret seeing this. I promise.”
Monson did as he was told, moving behind Taris with exaggerated slowness and observing that the grounds became more wild and scruffy. They moved farther and farther away from edges of the old dormitory. As they did, it got even darker and more difficult to see. As far as he could tell, they were steadily making their way into the forest and towards one of the Four Lords of Coren Valley, the mountain peaks surrounding the valley. This made Monson nervous. He needed to say something.
“Taris, listen.” He spoke gently, hoping fervently that he would not offend her. “I don’t think this is a good idea. Walking into the woods at night with no lights or warm clothes probably isn’t the smartest thing we could do.”
“Who said that we were going in without any light?” she answered as she moved farther up the path. Monson raised an eyebrow at her.
She was not making any sense. It was quite obvious that they did not have any lights with them. What was she playing at?
Abruptly, Taris stopped midstride.
“This is the reason you don’t have to worry.” She squeezed his hand before kneeling down in front of an odd-looking shrub. She fussed with some of the foliage. Then there was a heavy click and a creaking sound as Taris opened some sort of compartment hidden within the recesses of...a chest? It was not a plant at all, but a metallic chest concealed by thick brush.
“What is all this?” Monson leaned over Taris to get a better look.
She giggled. “It’s a secret, so you should consider yourself fortunate. What you are about to see only two other people besides me have seen. It’s a very special place.”
“I’m honored,” said Monson with just a touch of sarcasm. If Taris was looking for overt excitement on some level, she was probably going to find herself wanting, at least after today.
Taris stood after shoving a variety of items into his hands. Two flashlights, sunglasses, gloves, a pillow and a very thick quilt.
Monson kept any comments to himself.
“That should do it.” Taris pushed the lid of the chest down with some force, pulled out her cell phone looking at the clock. “We’d better hurry— it’s almost time.”
Monson, despite his misgivings about this adventure, felt a prickle of curiosity. Taris’ preparations and enigmatic actions came across as conspiratorial. It made him think that this little expedition may not have been as spontaneous as he had thought.
“This way,” she said after she plucked one of the flashlights and a pair of gloves out of his hands. “Watch your step—this trail can be tricky.”
They continued along the same path, which eventually took them into the forest. It was a beautiful night, clear and crisp with the scent of pine and cool earth. Monson stayed close to Taris as they crested a hill and then descended deeper into the wood. Recent rains had made the incline of the hill slippery and unpredictable. Eventually, the ground leveled out and a more defined path seemed to spring out of nowhere.
“A couple of friends and I found this our freshman year.” Taris pointed to the pathway. “We originally thought it was a school publicity stunt or something.”
“Why is that?” Monson scanned the dirt path. “I don’t see anything weird. Why would you assume that this path had something to do with the school?”
“You see, Mr. Grey, that’s your problem.” Taris looked at him with a slight glint in her eye. “You are constantly looking at the surface when what’s really important is just below.”
She grabbed his hand and led him deeper still into the forest. Monson waited for her to explain her perplexing comment. She stopped in front of a large break in the path formed by a ravine. More than ten feet across and at least as deep, the ravine was a wicked scar on the landscape. Because there was no stream in sight, the formation was an oddity, like someone with a hand ten feet wide had raked it across the forest floor.
“Can you help me?” asked Taris, giving him a little bump with her hip.
Monson proffered his hand and together they moved slowly into the ravine. The belly of the ravine was a great deal wider than it had initially looked. The space made Monson uncomfortable, causing unbidden flashes of grave-like imagery with creepy undead creatures popping out at every twist and turn. He was happy when Taris increased her pace.