Akasha 4 - Earth

by Terra Harmony

  The tension left my shoulders. "So if he is not here – how does he collect the energy? And what exactly does it do for him?"

  Clay shrugged. "No one really knows the specifics. But he has increased his strength significantly since the galas have started. Trust me, if I knew I would've found some way to sabotage it by now. As it is, the most I've done in that department is dispose of all the strawberries in camp."

  I laughed out loud. "Strawberries?"

  "They're an aphrodisiac, you know."

  "So they say."

  We stopped at the perimeter of Erika's tents. "Well, this is as far as I go," Clay said.

  I bent down to hug him.

  "What was that for?" he asked.

  "I'm glad to have you, is all." I smiled. We had to untangle my hair from his beard before we could part fully. "Why do you keep that thing?"

  He ran his fingers through it. "Warmth, mainly. And it makes a handy napkin."

  I ran my fingers through my own hair.

  "Besides, if I ever need to ditch camp, a quick shave – maybe some thicker shoes for height, and no one here would probably recognize me."

  I nodded. "Your hair is pretty recognizable."

  He raised his eyebrow at me. "As is yours."

  * * *

  Before returning to my tent, I sought out a pair of scissors.

  Erika was able to produce them. "You're not going to cause problems with these, are you?" She twirled the scissors on her finger. I had a flashback of someone flourishing a two-fingered salute. I shook my head, now wasn't the time to explore forgotten memories.

  "If you think I'm going to harm myself – or someone else, no. I just want to change up my look." I held out my hand.

  She placed the scissors in it, handle first. "I have some former hairstylists; probably can do it up right."

  I smiled but kept my gaze down at the metal in my hands. Moonlight glinted off the sharp blades. "No thanks, I need to do this on my own."

  I turned, then stopped and asked over my shoulder, "But do you know any tattoo artists?"

  She nodded. "A few."

  "Maybe send them my way tomorrow?"

  "I'll see if I can pull strings – get one of them off their working parties."

  I turned, facing her. "I'll need all of them."

  Once in my tent, I zipped up the door behind me and fell to my knees. No need to delay the inevitable. I snipped off a brown and gold curl toward the front.

  That one always got in my eyes anyway, I told myself.

  Outside, music started up at the gala. Drums, strings, and even a flute gave their all to the party. I snipped another piece.

  And that one had some grey in it. Good riddance.

  Unexpected tears sprang to my eyes, watering the growing pile of hair below me. Bee loved playing with my hair. As a baby, she would wrap her fingers around and around my strands while she fed. Once a little older, we would twist each other's hair on top of our heads and pretend they were crowns.

  Forest princesses, her small voice echoed in my head.

  Would she even recognize me now?

  My hands moved quicker, cutting away without hesitation. Try as I might to block them, the memories came flooding back. Frozen locks breaking off in my hand after I saved Alex from the Chakra's icy lake. Holding my hair back while Micah clasped the butterfly necklace around my neck. Golden brown tresses rising with static electricity when I forced lightning to destroy the handfasting location Shawn desecrated.

  Between sobs, I shouted out loud, "Damn it!" Why is this so hard? It's just hair, for Christ's sake. I moved to the final few curls at the back.

  One more memory came; Micah in bed with me, smoothing back my hair and calling me 'mop head'.

  The scissors snipped my finger, and I dropped them. Holding my bleeding hand, I still cried. Blood, tears, and hair swirled together, making one messy pile of Kaitlyn, left behind. I crawled into my sleeping bag, cocooning myself off from the world and hiding from the building energy within the camp.

  * * *

  "Easy there, princess."

  My shoulders sank. I'd never had a recurring dream that was so damn frustrating. I looked into Shawn's cold, blue eyes. If my nightmares had done one thing for me, it had made those eyes less intimidating. I leaned to the right. His eyes followed. Then I leaned to the left, going a little further. He watched to a point, but then his eyes drifted back to where I should have been standing. I returned to my position.

  "Where is the baby?"

  "Safe," I responded. He had a gun in his hand, pointed down this time. I stepped forward, counting until I reached him. Five paces away. His gun now pointed at my knees.

  Why there?

  I stepped back once, and mist swirled around my ankles. Something was there, in front of him. The harder I looked, trying to piece it together, the more it evaded me.

  "Kaitlyn, is the baby mine?"

  I blinked, now that was different. He asked instead of declared who the baby's father was. Was that how it actually went down? I couldn't even remember anymore. Akasha burned bright behind me, trying to distract me. But the puzzle was right in front of me. I just needed more time…

  Chapter 29

  Tainted

  "What a waste," Shawn said.

  "Sir?" David trailed Shawn, notebook open, pencil at the ready.

  "All that energy last night, left to disperse on its own."

  "Did you lose the Athame?" David asked.

  Shawn continued walking the old, dilapidated power plant for the last time, checking to see if anything else could be salvaged before their trip home. "No."

  "Then why did you order the gala last night, if you weren't going to absorb the energy?" David tripped over a piece of laminate, curling up from the floor.

  "Last night was a test. The energies in the area lately have felt off, and I needed to know why. If anyone significantly strong was nearby, that energy would have naturally gravitated toward them."

  "So did it work?"

  "We are clear." Shawn nudged at a door. "Why won't this open?"

  David flipped through his notebook, as if the answer would be there.

  Shawn rolled his eyes, took a step back, and drove his shoulder into the door. It still didn't budge.

  "Oh, yes – I have it here." David held up the notebook, pointing. "This door is locked."

  Shawn looked at the notebook, then back at David. He turned away before he followed his better instincts to strangle the man. Shawn drove his shoulder into the door again.

  David closed the notebook. In between Shawn's pounding, he asked, "So do you want to go back to camp before we leave?"

  Shawn paused, rubbing his shoulder. "If I have time tomorrow. We need to focus on breaking camp and getting everyone on the move before that storm gets here."

  Shawn turned, and aimed for the door with his left shoulder. The door sprung open into a dark room. Shawn lit a match and stepped inside.

  The small flame glinted off large, metal barrels. Bright white lettering along the side of them read, 'Fuel Oil'.

  David stepped up beside Shawn, "Enough to get us to Denver – I dare say, sir."

  Shawn nodded. "Get a working party; put all the barrels down in the engine room. I'll be in my quarters, and I'll need some privacy. No interruptions."

  * * *

  Shawn stood on the platform once again. This time there were no shimmery forms flying through the air, nor swimming below. They were all in solid, human form, waiting in line patiently on the stairs. It was eerie. Shawn held up his hand, tightly wrapped in bandages from his experience two days earlier. The skin was trying to mend itself, but every time he moved his fingers, barely-healed wounds tore open.

  He sighed, rewrapping his right hand. He lifted his left, gesturing the first in line forward and said, "Come on. Let's get this over with."

  She was an Earth Shade – and Chinese. Energy swirled around her feet as she stepped forward, revealing her unchecked excitement. Dust and grime from
the dirt floor lifted to join the fray.

  Shawn coughed, covering his mouth with his bandaged hand. "In love and in trust, in peace and in wisdom, I release you. So mote it be."

  The Chinese woman nodded once at Shawn, and her silky-white skin grew even brighter. Shawn grimaced as the familiar burn touched his good hand. He wasn't going to be able to hold on to his bike handlebar for weeks. Was this Sarah's way of delaying his plans? If only he could talk to her…

  As the Chinese woman disappeared in a puff of smoke, Shawn glanced up at the cove high on the wall. It was dark.

  A sudden blast of wind hit Shawn. He squinted, protecting his eyes from the sting as his hair and clothes flapped.

  Once the wind died down, someone giggled. "Oh – sorry."

  He opened one eye, then another. An elderly woman—an Air, obviously—stood hunched before him.

  "I have been waiting a long time to return to the open arms of the Goddess," she said.

  Shawn ran the back of his hands over his hair, trying to tame it. "May your return join together body, spirit, and Shade, giving back to the Earth what was borrowed."

  The woman grinned from ear to ear and the wind started up again. Shawn stuck out his hand, turned his head and said the chant quickly before he was blown off the ledge.

  As she floated away, Shawn heard a distant, "Thank you, young man."

  Shawn rubbed his face with his arm and grumbled, "Happy to oblige."

  "Margaret always was excitable."

  Shawn jumped at the voice over his shoulder. Arianna stood there, smiling at the puff of smoke the old woman left behind.

  "You going to miss them? Because we don't have to do this."

  Arianna narrowed her eyes at Shawn. "This Athame was never meant to be tainted. The wrong must be made right again."

  Shawn huffed; righting wrongs was a lot of work.

  "Next!" Arianna called for Shawn.

  Chapter 30

  Inked

  "Are you awake?"

  The voice called me from my nightmare. I opened my eyes and was greeted with pitch black.

  I clawed my way out of my sleeping bag. When the fog cleared from my head, Erika stood at the flap to my tent, staring at my pile of hair from the night before. She stepped in, picked up the scissors, and then looked at me.

  I sat up, running my fingers through my hair. They hit air way too quickly.

  "You certainly did a number on yourself. Mind if I take some of it?" She bent down, sweeping my hair into a tighter pile with her bare hands.

  "Why?"

  "We can add it to our mobile compost piles. Hair takes a long time to decompose, but it is a rich source of nitrogen."

  I scooted out of my stifling hot bag, rubbing my face. "Sure." I looked away. My eyes were puffy enough as it was.

  Erika collected all my hair in a small canvas bag and stood. "I've got the tattoo artists. Ready for them?"

  I nodded, still turned away. Three women entered and set up a cot in the middle of the tent. There was barely enough room for everyone.

  They put down their bags. The tallest one stepped forward. "Hi Lucy – I'm Layla." She had a slight accent, maybe Dutch.

  I nodded my head at her.

  "What you see here," she gestured to our bags, "is the last of our ink."

  Behind her, one of the women's lips went tight. The other glanced at the bags, then swallowed.

  Layla continued. "If we do this for you, we can no longer continue our art."

  Her words hung in the air. Behind me, Erika cleared her throat. She wanted me to say something; she wanted me to answer the unasked question. Why should they use the last of their ink on me?

  I looked at each of the women. None gave away any clues as to what the right answer might be.

  Erika spoke up. "She is interested in the prisoners."

  One of the women stepped forward, standing next to Layla now. "What business do you have with the prisoners?" Her whole body leaned forward, her hand on her hip.

  Layla put her hand on the woman's shoulder.

  To calm her or hold her back? I couldn't tell. Maybe both.

  "This is Marissa," Layla said. That was all she said, but her hand stayed on Marissa's shoulder. They stood together, waiting for me to respond.

  I looked back at Erika. Her eyes widened only slightly. Respond carefully, is what she should've said to me.

  I looked back at the women. "I want the prisoners gone." There, that leaves me open to go either way.

  Marissa tensed. Layla's grasp on her shoulder tightened.

  "Gone, how?" Marissa asked.

  I stood, body going as tense as Marissa's. My hands twitched at my side, ready for a fight.

  Time to gamble, I thought. My heart beat so hard I could feel it in my throat. "Gone as in set free."

  My eyes darted to each of the women, even to Erika, expecting an attack. But Marissa sank back, releasing a breath.

  Layla's mouth turned up in a smile. "Marissa's sister is being held there. But she can't get close enough to even talk to her, much less figure out how to free her."

  My eyes flitted over to Marissa. "Have you tried the latrine area?"

  She furrowed her eyebrow.

  I sighed, "Here – use this." I removed my red arm band and tossed it to her. "It'll get you to the head guard. His name is Clay and he is a friend of mine. Tell him Kai—" I cleared my own throat. "Tell him Lucy sent you. He can at least maybe give you time with your sister."

  "Can I trust him?" she asked, looking at the arm band.

  "Can he trust you?"

  She nodded, then slipped the arm band on.

  "He will do what needs to be done to help your sister."

  "Thank you," Marissa said. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

  She turned to leave, but Layla stopped her. "First, we repay the debt. Okay?"

  "No, no." I interrupted. "It's okay. Let her go."

  Everyone looked at me. I shrugged, "I know what it is to be separated from family."

  Layla nodded, and Marissa left after another round of thanks.

  Layla turned to the bags, "Well, let's begin." She nodded to the other woman. "This is Sheri."

  Sheri nodded. I recognized her as an admin worker. She helped predict weather patterns. "What kind of ink can we slap on you today?" she asked.

  I sat on the cot, meeting their eyes. "I don't care. Just keep them where people are most likely to see them. Arms, face, neck. Maybe shoulders. That tree looks nice." I gestured to the tattoo on Layla's upper left arm.

  They both exchanged glances. "Let's take a look." Layla reached for my hands, surveying several small scars up my arms. "We can cover these up, if you like."

  I nodded, and removed my shirt, baring my shoulder. "What about this one?"

  They peered at my back. "That one looks too fresh."

  I snorted. It was a couple of years old, at least.

  "We don't want to mess with it too much, but we'll see what we can do."

  Erika was still at the tent flap. "Can I straighten up your hair a little? You are uneven in the back."

  "Sure."

  The tattoo artists set up a makeshift table, preparing their ink and needles. The tattoo guns were altered to run on battery power. Thank goodness they still had batteries for them. Erika began snipping away at my hair.

  "Do you know someone named Sabrina?" I asked her.

  "You have some sort of medical problem?"

  "More like a power problem."

  Erika turned my head. "That's what she is good at. I'll see if I can get her here today – you'll probably be at the mercy of these needles until dusk at least. Your debt is starting to stack up, you know."

  "I know." I sighed.

  "What’s your power anyway?" She turned my head the other way.

  I froze – I hadn't though this one through yet. I very well couldn't say all of them. Hello red flag. No matter what I chose, they may be able to detect their own element within me. I could always play dumb if
it came to that.

  "Guess," I said.

  "Well, she ain't an Air." Sheri glanced at me. Layla agreed.

  One down, three to choose from.

  Erika wasn't offering any information.

  "What are you?" I asked.

  "Fire." She snipped at my hair again.

  Earth or Water, which one? I went with the former. "I am Earth."

  "That probably explains it," Erika said.

  "What?" I asked.

  "That I can't detect your magic. I usually can, no matter what the element. But Earths are tricky. They operate on a lower frequency."

  I thought of Susan's words, 'Earths rarely know they possess the ability themselves.' Still – all of them should've been able to detect their own elements within me. Probably another side effect of my concussion. I wondered what else my injury was shielding me from.

  "Ok, ready?" Layla turned on the ominous tattoo gun in her hand. "Back or front first?"

  I lay down on my stomach. "Back."

  She started in right between my shoulder blades while Sheri extended my left arm for an ink bracelet on my wrist. I turned away. A few sharp stings here and there, and my bones felt like they were vibrating, but the pain wasn't nearly as bad as I had expected.

  Erika finished cutting my hair and went to collecting the rest. She came around to the front of the table, opened my hand, and placed a small braided section of my locks in it. It was tied together on both ends with a thin ribbon.

  "What's this for?" I asked.

  She shrugged. "I don't know – your hair seemed significant to you, so I thought you might want to keep a bit." She turned, exiting the tent. I was left to the mercy of the tattooists.

  I closed my fist around the hair.

  An hour later, Layla moved on to my shoulder blades. Here, the pain was worse. It was four men, pulling at each limb while Shawn carved his symbol into me all over again. It was his knife piercing my skin, leaking its poison into my body. I needed more of a distraction than my own thoughts – or my own hair.

  "So – how's the weather been?" I asked Sheri. She moved from one wrist to my other.