Lola squeezes my hand. “What now?” she says with a scowl. She seems more annoyed than me about being here.
Gabriel takes a step into the garden and the pollen, or purity, clings to him, making his already glistening body shimmer under the sunlight. “You enter the Garden and you will remember,” he says, extending his hand.
Lola’s shoulders drop and she frowns. “What will I remember?” she asks.
Gabriel walks further into the meadow and extends his wings. “Everything. Or nothing. It greatly depends on you, Lola. The mind is a remarkable and powerful source of memories and dreams. Some remain hidden for eternity, while others merely need a trigger to be coaxed to the surface of your subconscious,” he replies.
Lola steps closer to me as though she’s afraid. “What if I don’t want to? I don’t want to see my parents die again.”
“You may leave at any time, sweet Lola. I can take you at once, if that is what you desire,” Gabriel says.
“No. She’ll do it,” I say. We both need some answers and this is the only way. Lola nods, and takes the first step into the garden. I follow, not knowing what I’m about to see.
TWENTY-ONE
Lola
Heaven
§§§
The meadow is beautiful, and the grass is soft and warm under my feet. I’m surrounded by tiny pink and white daisies. In the centre of each, sparkling glitter floats above like tiny puffs of magical pollen. There are no clouds here and the crystal clear blue sky seems endless.
I turn to Belial. He looks out of place with his huge black wings, and I realise I look out of place too, with my black leggings and white t-shirt. I now understand why he wore white. There is something wrong about black here, where everything surrounding us is beautiful and wholesome.
“What now?” I ask Belial.
He points to the ground. “Sit, lay. Whatever. Close your eyes,” he suggests, as though he’s unsure.
I sit on the warm grass beside Belial. He really is beautiful. There’s a strong resemblance between him and his father, and my god, his twin brother is gorgeous. I wonder if he’s the opposite of Belial. Perhaps he’s kind, loving, friendly, and sweet. Maybe that’s the balance Belial keeps talking about. Maybe here I’ll find another version of myself, a better version, one that doesn’t live in a dream world full of angels and demons.
Belial leans back on his elbows. “Okay, start remembering,” he says.
I sigh and lay back on the grass. “Hands off,” I say with a slight smile. I hope to get a reaction. I get nothing.
He lies beside me, focused on the sky. After a few minutes of awkward silence, I close my eyes. There’s nothing at first, except the heady scent of vanilla and honey, and a calming warmth that spreads over my entire body. On the cusp of the gentle breeze, my birth parents appear.
I’m almost eight years old and sitting in the back seat of my parent’s blue station wagon. I can smell the musty, mouldy scent as my nose fills with memories of the past. I remember my father saying there was a water leak in the window. My mother’s perfume was sweet and fruity. She’d let me use some on special occasions. I smile at the memory and feel my heart race.
My mum peers into the tiny visor mirror, and attempts to put her lipstick on as my father drives along the dusty gravel road, lined by bushland and tall pine trees, that leads to our farm house.
The forest was my playground. Somewhere I could run, hide and play. I was alone but I didn’t care. I loved it that way. There was no one to share with and no one to ruin my secret hiding places among the trees.
Dad pulled up in the driveway and shut off the engine. “Don’t go too far,” Mum said, as I scrambled out the back seat of the car and ran.
As I ran, I called back, “I won’t.” I was already half way to my special place. When I reached the old oak tree, I climbed the rope ladder my father made, and I sat in the thick, wide branches.
From there, I could see my house in the distance. Its white shutters were open and the curtains were blowing in the breeze. The beautifully manicured gardens were surrounded by white picket fences and I had the perfect view of my parents sitting together on an antique swing seat my mother bought at a yard sale.
I see myself smiling, rummaging through my back pack for my stash of gumballs. I can almost feel them in my mouth as I remember pushing them in, one by one, until my cheeks were bursting with hard round lumps.
The dream—vision—changes, and there’s a scream. I don’t remember this part.
I’m watching it like a movie now, as if I’m a spectator. There’s a little girl in a tree and I know it’s me. Her emotions flood my system, and it’s difficult to breathe.
There’s a scream in the distance, “NO!”
The little girl hears the scream and her eyes dart around. She’s not sure where it came from. She looks toward her house, still clinging to the tree branch where she braces herself so she won’t fall. What she sees terrifies her. In the sky is a man with huge black wings that spread out wider than any bird she’s ever seen. She blinks a few times, confused. It looks as though he has her mother.
Screams fill the air. The girl wants to jump down and run to them, but she’s stuck in the tree and frozen with fear. Her mother falls, slowly at first, as if she’s floating with invisible wings, then there’s a thud. Her father appears next, and he’s flying too.
“No,” she whispers, covering her mouth tightly with her little hands. Her father has wings? Her father has wings! He’s fighting the black winged man, and he’s losing.
“Where is the child?” the black winged man calls. He’s so loud, she inhales sharply and the cold air shocks her lungs
She scrambles down the tree and runs to her secret cave, a hiding spot her father showed her. A few large boulders positioned with an opening the perfect size for her to sneak into. She wraps her arms around her knees and puts her head down, rocking back and forth, trying her hardest to breathe as silently as possible.
“Lola?” An unfamiliar male voice is calling her name. “Lola,” he says again.
There’s a thud, and she knows he’s close. Two men talk outside the boulder cave.
“Where did she go?” one says.
“No idea,” the first voice responds.
“Fuck it. You know he’ll be pissed. He wanted the whole family killed. You find the kid, and I’ll make sure they’re dead.”
“Got it, brother,” the second voice answers again.
She peeks through her hands and sees that it’s the black winged man, his body covered in blood. In his belt, a long shining sword is glowing blue.
She swallows the lump in her throat and feels a tickle on her leg. When she looks down, she sees a huge hairy spider. She flicks it away but it comes right back. She starts panting, terrified. The man outside the cave squats a few short feet away. As soon as she sees his face, calm envelopes her.
He extends his hand and lips curls into a half smile. “Come out,” he whispers. “I won’t hurt you.”
She shakes her head as she stares at him. She wants to believe him—something is telling her to. But even his shiny blue eyes like her father’s, aren’t enough to entice her out.
His knees touch the dirt and he leans in closer, reaching into her secluded hiding place. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
She shakes her head again.
He drops his hand and his brow creases. “Are you scared?” he asks.
She nods. “A little bit scared,” she admits.
“I can help you,” he says.
She gets to her knees and considers leaving the safety of her little cave. She wants to trust him, but she’s afraid, and worried about her parents. The little girl creeps out, still half inside the cave.
“Good girl,” he says with a nod. His tone remains calm and peaceful as he stands, then clasps his hand around the hilt of his sword and drags it out of his belt.
She doesn’t run or hide, instead she watches amazed at the beautiful, glowing blue sword.
>
He holds it up, turning it back and forth. The fading light of the summer sunset hits it on different angles, making it shine like pretty rainbows on the dusty dry ground. “Are you still scared?” he asks.
She looks up at him, before shaking her head. A calming warmth envelops her mind, and she realises she’s no longer afraid of the man with wings. “Are you an angel? Did you kill my mum and dad? Are you going to kill me?”
The man’s eyes narrow and he tilts his head. “Yes, I am going to kill you,” he says. His voice doesn’t convince her, in fact it only serves to keep her calm.
She’s still not afraid. She’s not quite sure what happens when someone dies. Her only thought is that perhaps people become angels, and that may be why she saw her father with wings. Maybe this man is also an angel. She creeps out and stands up tall. With her hand over her heart she announces, “I won’t cry. I promise.”
The angel looks down at her. She thinks he’s confused. He reaches out and his fingertips brush across her cheek, then he drops his hand and steps back.
He rubs his head and squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them, he says her name, “Lola?”
She wants to ask how he knows her, but his voice is so soft and kind that her words get caught in her throat, and she wants him to speak first. When he reaches out again, he cups her cheek. His hand is warm, but sticky red blood clings to her face. When he kneels so his face is in front of her, she raises her hand to place it over his where he’s still cupping her cheek. He whispers to her, “I will protect you, this time. Next time, I will have to kill you.”
She nods again and asks, “Can I come with you?”
He shakes his head and stands. “No, your place is here. I will return for you. Now, get back in there and wait until dark before you come out.”
She nods, then scrambles back inside her hiding place. When she hears the first man’s voice again, she shivers.
“They’re gone. Did you find the kid?” he asks.
“No, she’s gone. Probably drowned in the river. Let’s go.”
Finally, it’s dark. She remains in her hiding spot, waiting, thinking about wings and blood, and fairy tale princes who rescue beautiful princesses from dragons and horrible demons. She doesn’t know what she is supposed to do, or where she is supposed to go.
When the moon shines through the crack in the boulders, she hears her father’s voice call through the night, “Lola? Lola honey, it’s Daddy.”
Her mouth is dry and her face is wet with tears and dried blood.
Her dad peers into the boulders. “Come out, honey,” he says.
She creeps out and falls into the arms of her father who holds her tight. He rocks her, and strokes her hair as she cries.
“Shh, Lola, it’s ok now.”
When the tears stop, she wriggles from her father’s arms and looks into his bright blue eyes. There’s blood on his chest and face, and a purple bruise forms a circle around his eye that matches the bluish-purple bruises on his arms and shoulders. She puts her hand on her father’s arm and smooths it over his skin, wondering if he’s in pain. If he is, he doesn’t show it.
“Blood, Daddy. I saw blood,” she tells him. The little girl raises her arms and extends them to the sides to flap them up and down. “And wings, big wings! You had wings, Daddy.” She pauses for a moment and looks over her father’s shoulders for any sign of the feathery white wings. They’re gone.
Her father kneels at her feet, holding her little hands tight in his grasp. “Is Mummy dead?” she asks. Her father doesn’t answer, he only pulls her into his arms. “An angel came, Daddy. He said—”
He puts a finger to her lips. “Shh,” her father says before she can finish. “It’s your time now, Lola. It’s time to be brave.”
She looks up at her father. There’s something wrong. His eyes are different. The blue is bright and shiny, like the beautiful sapphire stones her mum showed her once when she was only five years old.
He smiles as he puts a necklace around her neck and fastens the clasp. “Lola, this is your mum’s necklace. It’s going to protect you. You have the power now, soon we shall meet again,” he whispers, then everything goes black.
TWENTY-TWO
Belial
Heaven
§§§
I turn my head to Lola, there are tears running down the side of her cheek. I don’t say anything, there is nothing I can say. I watch her for a few minutes, wondering what she is seeing. A pang of empathy hits me. I want to comfort her, but I can’t. For all I know she’s seeing me, so instead, I finally give in and close my eyes.
As much as I don’t want to, I know I must try to remember something, anything.
It’s Vex and me, we’re flying toward an old farmhouse in Angel Bay. It’s huge, on massive acreage surrounded by tall pine trees and bushland on both sides. Further in the distance, the waves crash against the lighthouse on the bay.
Vex swoops down lower and I follow. “Who’s the target?” I ask him.
He puts his hand on his sword and hovers for a moment. “Adam Aurora, his wife, and the kid. There’s something about that kid. He wants her dead, no matter what.”
I nod and follow him through the sky, in awe of his massive wingspan and the way he effortlessly glides through the air. This is not my mission, it’s his. I’m here to help if he needs it.
When I see the memory, it’s as if it was five minutes ago and I wonder why I didn’t remember any of this before.
“NO!” the female screams as Vex swoops down and grabs her from the arms of the male, while his wings are flapping furiously.
I step back and watch. The male doesn’t look in my direction, and to my shock he reveals white feathered wings before flying into the sky above Vex.
He is an angel.
Vex drops the woman. She tries to scream but she’s so close to death, there’s no hope. Vex fights with the male, throwing punches that sound like cracks of thunder. He draws his sword, each swing misses as the male angel darts through the sky and dodges every attack. The male is strong, but I have no doubt Vex will win.
“The child,” Vex bellows. I jog into the bushes, listening carefully for her thoughts. Vex calls out again, “Where is the child?”
I hear a strangled sob and a rustling sound ahead. I fly up and look down through the trees. I see the child scrambling into some boulders and I land with a thud, and call her name. It’s Lola. She’s tiny, maybe seven or eight years old. I can hear her heart racing and sense her fear. I focus on her mind. She’s thinking about what just happened to her parents. She must have been watching.
I call her, “Lola.”
Vex lands with a thud beside me, shaking out his wings and splattering blood across my chest and face. “Where did she go?”
I shrug. “No idea,” I lie.
He kicks the dirt and his eyes dart around the forest. “Fuck it! You know he’ll be pissed, he wants the whole family killed. Look for the kid.”
“Got it, brother.” I nod and Vex takes off into the sky again.
Back in Hell, Hades is furious, both the parents are gone and the child—Lola— is nowhere to be found, dead or alive. He places his hand over my head, it burns like hell for five whole minutes. He does the same to Vex, then makes me watch in horror as he slices off Vex’s wings and they fall silently to the cold, hard ground. When he’s done with Vex, I’m chained to the altar.
His eyes ignite with flames and the scent of fresh blood fills my nostrils. He leans down and glares at me as black smoke swirls around his head. “I should take your wings for this, boy.”
I don’t speak. I’m not afraid. I’m already used to his torture.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Lucien step toward me. “No,” he says. “If you take his wings he will not get into the Kingdom. We need him like this.”
Hades curses and takes the branding iron from the fire pit, he holds it up and the end glows orange. He brings it down and presses it into my thigh, branding me with his name. T
he burn is excruciating and my body shakes uncontrollably. He leans down, his gaze burns into my skull and my blood feels as though it’s boiling. “You will kill Lola Thorne,” he growls.
“Yes, Father,” I say.
“He won’t remember?” Lucien asks.
“Not now,” Hades says.
I open my eyes and sit. It’s fuzzy for a few minutes, when it clears I turn to Lola.
“You,” she says.
“What?” I ask, but I know what she saw.
With a pained stare, she stutters, “Y— you, you killed them. You… killed my parents. You were going to kill me. I was a child, Belial.”
I reach out to touch her hand, she pulls away. “Don’t touch me! Don’t …I can’t believe it,” she says, “…all this time you’ve been lying to me?” She stands, unsteady on her feet.
I get up. “Lola, I didn’t do it… I don’t—”
She raises her hand and shakes her head. “The Lord of Death and Lies.” She laughs to herself. “You’re right Belial, I am stupid. Stupid for ever trusting you.”
When she walks away, something inside me dies. An ache blooms in my chest, and crushes my heart. Knowing she won’t hear me, I mutter the words under my breath, “I’m sorry, Lola.”
My father and brother land in front of me with their wings fluttering and their damn sparkling purity floating around my head. I scrub my hands down my face. “You’re all bastards, you know that right? She thinks I did it. You know I didn’t kill them!”
My father speaks calmly, “That is true, my son. Lola has good reason to believe you did, does she not?” he says.
I point towards the castle where I see Lola in the distance. “Go and tell her I didn’t do it.”
My father offers an apology, “I’m sorry. I cannot, Belial.”
I pace back and forth, shaking my head. It’s still pounding, and Lola’s face is etched in my mind.
Untamed: Demon Soul Page 16