Suddenly he stops and presses his forehead against my mine. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you, Ad’ru,” he exhales and then takes a deep inhale. He’s drinking in my fragrance.
His eyes are closed and he faces the sky to fight a growl that wants to escape him. I watch him closely, and I’m no longer frightened by the way his fangs touch his supple bottom lip. Oh, how he just kissed me! I’m all flesh and blood and breath; he stirs the human that I am.
We stand still, waiting for these impulses to pass. When he’s recovered, he opens his eyes and gazes deep into mine.
“No one’s ever gotten to me like this. Ever,” he divulges.
“Me neither,” I say likewise.
“No,” he shakes his head. “You don’t understand. You’ve been in Fairytale Land. I’ve been a goddamned vampire. I don’t fuck and drink the thirst away; I kill it away.”
“I’m confused,” I say, frowning. “I don’t understand how you’re using the word ‘fuck.’ You sometimes use it as a verb, other times you use as an expletive, and also an adjective. Na’ta only uses it as an expletive and sometimes an adjective.”
He throws his head back and releases a hefty laugh—I love the sound of it. The tone enlarges my smile. But then suddenly I’m on my back, on the prickly soil, and he’s on top of me. Our lips are connecting and tongues dancing again. This time his hand is under my shirt and he’s indulgently kneading my breasts. A moan crawls up my throat and escapes past my lips. Our tongues are no longer touching because he is now sliding it around my firm and tingling nipple. What he’s doing to me is very sensual. The sharp tickling in my thighs, my private parts, and my breasts has returned.
He takes my hand and guides it to his groin. “You feel this?” he asks throatily.
It’s hard, like a rod. “I do,” I whimper; my words are slippery.
“I put this…” His hand is now inside the pants I’m wearing and it touches me in a very hot and wet place. I’m being devoured by pleasure. “In here.” He slips a finger inside of me, and out of me, inside and out, and circles it and repeats the action.
I’m panting. I can’t think. What is this? I expand my eyes and try to look down to see what he’s doing but this intensity is wakening deep inside of me.
I hear a high-pitched cry and I can hardly believe that is surely myself who is originator of such a shriek. I don’t grow silent until that sensation subsides.
“Hey,” Na’ta grunts. I flick my eyes open. She’s standing over us.
Chex steadies me quickly onto my feet and I’m standing with wobbly legs. He has an arm wrapped around my waist to steady me.
“I can’t leave you alone with her for five minutes, can I?” She says, directing her anger at him.
“She’s defiling me. It’s not the other way around,” he says, simpering at her.
“Whatever.” She throws the black canvas bag at the arm he’s using to embrace me. He lets go of me to catch it before it hits me, which was her intention.
“See… She can stand on her own two feet,” she says snidely.
Chex sniffs dismissively and then puts his full attention on the bag as he pulls the drawstring. It unfolds, revealing an arsenal of peculiar objects attached to the material. Chex runs a finger down the edges of the sharp ones, slicing his flesh open. I expect blood to pour out of the wound but it heals before that can happen.
“What the hell are these?” he wonders.
He’s sliding a finger down metal balls.
“Those are trikes,” Na’ta says, “The Olligark are all bone. No skin. No Flesh. They’re like pure steel. Your blades won’t be able to penetrate them but all of that will.”
“So we throw balls at them, and then what?”
“Correction,” Na’ta lifts her eyebrows as she drops the same kind of canvas bag off her back and onto the grass. “It takes at least five balls and then, Pow! - they explode.”
“Humph,” Chex grunts flippantly. “I won’t need these.”
“Oh yes you will,” she insists.
“And what about these?” he continues, ignoring her. He’s touching objects shaped like various leaves.
Na’ta grins. “Those are gutters,” she replies happily. Apparently she has a certain amount of affection for the weapons. “You’ll never beat the Olligark in hand-to-hand combat, but these…” her grin deepens, “….they can.”
He frowns studiously at them. “How?”
“How good is your aim?”
“Flawless.”
“Good. When the time comes, just let one go and watch it work,” she sings.
They’re sort of getting along which I very much prefer to the squabbling. I try to push the memories of what I just experienced out of my mind as I watch them load up with these objects. He made me “come,” as he called it. What a potent sensation.
I observe his hands as he swiftly makes room for the extra instruments inside of his coat. There’s preciseness in the way they move. He refuses to part with his Earth weapons, even after Na’ta offers to carry them to her compound in the kark forest. I sense he also has a strong emotional connection to them.
Na’ta detaches parts of the canvas bags and wraps parts of it around her waist and the upper part of each of her arms. She insists that I carry at least five trikes in each of my pockets, as well as a strip of gutters around my arm. Initially, I protest. My weapon is the light and only the light. But Na’ta suggests I hold these things ‘just in case.’ If I don’t need them, then that’s fine; but if I do need them, then I will have them. Chex strongly agrees. It is such a relief to see them in agreement that I decide to lug these weapons.
“It’s pitch black in Ol,” Na’ta warns. We’re riding the wind but this time journeying eastward. “Wherever the Olligark go, they bring the darkness with them. I imagine that’s how they were able to steal the Scepter of Gant. But we’re going to travel through the southern end of Zrr, their darkness doesn’t work so quickly there.” She stares farther into the distance. “They won’t be able to get a jump on us there, even if they do see us coming. I’ll outrace them, and Adore - you’ll blind them with the light.” Her tone is jovial, excited. For thousands of human years, this is how she chose to live her life—picking fights with strange beings.
“Are there creatures in Zrr?” I ask. I glance at Chex and he’s staring at me.
“Once upon a time the Aarap lived there but from what I know, the Olligark wiped them out.”
“Is that so?” I ask, fascinated by the thought of another peculiar species. “What did they look like?”
“Lizards.”
“So where the hell is this Scepter of Gant?” Chex asks; it’s strange because I’m sure he’s speaking to Na’ta but he’s still gazing at me.
“Are you asking me or her?” Na’ta asks snobbishly.
“You.” He’s short with her.
She sighs hard and rolls her eyes. “The hell if I know,” she answers even though she’s annoyed by his fascination with me. “But it can be in one of three places.”
“I know where it is,” I say before they can start quarreling. “It’s in an enormous spider made of stone.”
The look on Na’ta’s face is asking me how I knew that.
“Exgesis’ lar’im revealed it to me.”
Chex shifts his eyes from me to stare straight ahead after hearing that name.
“Oh,” Na’ta nods. “But no—it’s not made of stone, it’s made of bones,” she says. “Those bastards kill one another to build their cities.” She looks disgusted by it. “But that place you’re referring to is called the Tarantula.”
“Tarantula. The spider?” Chex ask dubiously without turning his head.
“Yeah.” She chuckles cynically. “Trips me out too.”
“You really know a lot about these worlds,” I say, impressed by her scope of knowledge.
“That’s because I get out and you don’t. Just think Ad’ru, you’re the first. You’ve had thousands of years to find all
this shit out.”
Chex takes a curious side-eye glance at me. “Thousands of years? How old are you?” he asks me.
“Eight thousand years old, give or take. But really, who’s counting,” Na’ta answers before I am able.
“Get the hell out of here!” Chex exclaims. Now he’s studying me, but in a different way. He’s searching for something.
“The truth is,” I say shrinking under the intensity of his gaze, “I don’t have an age. I was born and now I live, and I’ll live until I die.”
“You won’t die,” Na’ta mutters slyly under her breath.
“You’re a fool Na’ta if you don’t think we’re susceptible to death.”
Chex’s eyes move back and forth between us.
“Then I guess I’m a fool.” She winks at me with a smirk.
I shake my head. I’ll never get through to her.
“What about you?” Chex asks, Na’ta. “How old are you?”
“Older than you,” she snaps, reveling in the fact that he asks. “Fifteen hundred, give or take,” she finally answers only because she loves the way it sounds. The longer she lives, the more invincible she feels.
Chex doesn’t say a word. Instead he’s pondering something. It’s as if he’s finally understanding that we are not humans—we are truly unique beings.
All of a sudden the environment changes. It’s white and hazy all around us. It’s the only color in the sky. But beneath us the surface looks made of salt crystal. Bulky clusters of the material are spread across the terrain as far as my eyes can see. There’s no tree or plant or flower or greenery of any kind in this universe. It’s white and dreary and lifeless here.
“Look,” I say, pointing ahead at the top of one of the clusters.
“I see it,” Chex says, glowering at the strange creature.
“It’s an Aarap!” Na’ta cries, surprised to see it.
She was right. It looks like a lizard. Its very presence beckons us to stop in our tracks to study it. The creature has the body of a gigantic chameleon with scaly gray skin, a hunched back, and coiled tail. The heels of its two reptilian hind legs resemble that of a human but its toes are curved and clawed. The same goes for its arms which are reptile-like with human palms and clawed fingers. And then there’s the head: a cross between a tortoise and a man, with big white eyes that blink rapidly, purple lips, and two holes right in the middle of its face to breathe.
“I guess they’re not all wiped out,” Na’ta whispers, still marveling at the sight of the creature.
“Are they aggressive?” Chex asks with one hand already digging in his coat.
“No,” Na’ta whispers, taking care to keep the volume of her voice low. “Not if we stay high.”
Suddenly, the Aarap curves its neck so far backwards that the top of his scabby head touches his bulging spine and lets out an ear-piercing hiss, so loud that I have to cover my ears with my hands.
Loud rumbling mixes with the creature’s shrill. Down below the ground starts to shake and, although we are in the air, the quake rattles us too.
Now I feel Chex’s hard body against my back. He’s holding tightly to me. Then, all at once, a vast number of Aarap creatures emerge from the depths of the salt crystal with their bulbous eyes fixed upon us.
The last thing I hear is Na’ta shouting above all the noise, “Let’s get out of here!” But now I’m covered in some sort of web material that has me so bound I can’t struggle against it. Chex’s arms are no longer around me and I feel his absence.
I try to gather my bearings as I’m being pulled downwards. Just when I think I should hit the surface, I don’t. I’m unable to hear, see, or smell anything. I call the power of the light to my command and force it out of every pore of my body. I’m waiting for the light to devour this weapon of evil, freeing from me this wicked web which has me bound.
Ad’ru, stay calm, Na’ta says to me telepathically.
I can’t free myself… I try to squirm but the web has me securely fastened within its grasp.
Finally, I’ve stopped descending and I’m lying down on a hard surface. The fibers binding me begin to unwind until my mouth is freed and then my eyes. I can see again. When the rest of me has been liberated. I leap to my feet and press my back against Na’ta’s as we instinctively take a defensive stance. Scores of the reptilian creatures encircle us, but they are split between watching us and focusing on an enormous wall made of crystal where we can see two battles playing out on the surface of Zrr.
First, the Olligark have brought the opaque darkness with them and it tries to shove the hazy daytime out of existence, but the light refuses to concede. Then, using their stealthy arms, the Treesh are winding up a thick linked chain with a solid stone ball attached at the end of it to deliver blows to the seemingly indestructible Olligark. If it weren’t for their methods, the solid pink, human-like Treesh would be easily annihilated. They work in unison to bring the Olligarks to their knees before delivering a deathblow to their heads. Yet, the Olligark are clearly winning. They fight with their skeletal hands and, once they clamp down on their opponent, they’re able to rip their limbs apart, even those of the durable Treesh. Bubbling thick purple blood and mammoth-sized bones coat the battlefield. It’s sheer violence. I turn my face because the sight is difficult to absorb.
“The Ol,” an Aarap says, rolling the l in Ol “saw you through the eye of the world.” The creature buzzes; it’s not exactly speaking in Enu or English, but its words slither off its tongue in sharp hisses. “We honor our pact with that of Benel. We protect you in Zrr.”
Na’ta cringes at the mention of our father’s protection and asks, “The eye? The Zkr?” Her voice rings with curiosity. “That means they lifted that from the Mtknv too.”
“Wait,” I nearly shout, suddenly realizing we’re short one companion. “Where is Chex?” I twist and turn, searching frantically for him.
My pulse starts to race. I’m forced to gaze upon the violence and the slaughtering has not ceased. My eyes desperately search for him in the mess of bones, blood, and death.
“He is vampire…” the Aarap begins in his decipherable hiss.
I’m hanging on his every buzz, wondering where this explanation will lead when the Aarap’s scaly head flies clean off its neck, hitting one of the crystal columns before dropping to the floor.
All the Aarap cry out in an uproar that’s so deafening it feels as if my head has split into two. To my left, I see Chex standing over the headless creature, grasping a dagger in each hand. And he’s not finished. He fixes his eyes on the nearest Aarap and is on the verge of calling his reflexes in motion. He’s quick. But for the grace of the Creator, I’m faster. I’m able to get in front of him and take him by his massive shoulder.
His eyes are glazed over as he curls his neck to observe the grip I have on him. Before I can shout his name over the incessant buzzing to get him to fully focus on me, he shoves me away. I’m flying through the air until my body stops short of hitting a column because Na’ta has caught me. At the same time I see traces of Chex’s rapid speed as he evades the Aaraps’ streaming web.
The Aaraps grow angrier, evident by the intolerable noise they’re making. But Chex is also mad. It is clear the two factions will duel to the death. Without hesitation, I pull the light out of me and fill this entire space with it. My powers obey me. The daggers drop out of Chex’s hands and clink against the durable crystal. The Aaraps have stopped shooting their constraining string.
“What the hell just happened?” Na’ta mutters.
She’s watching me closely; they all are. I walk over to the head Aarap. The lids of its eyes are still blinking and there is no blood of any sort oozing out of the cleanly sliced wound. I bend over to pick up the head and take it over to the body of the creature, which is crumpled on the floor. Unlike the head, the body is not alive.
I know what I must do. I fit the head back in place on the creature’s neck. That’s when its eyes close and it’s finally at rest. I r
ub both of my hands over its skin. The texture is rough but warm. The Aarap is consumed with goodness. There’s no evil within this species, which makes it easier for the light to work.
After a moment the body and head are both aglow; the Aarap reclaims life and then flips over to stand on all four legs. The creature shows its gratitude by opening its mouth and sliding out his thin tongue to lick me on the forehead. It tickles. I smile tentatively at the Aarap because nothing has changed; we are still in the same sticky predicament.
“I apologize for the Selell,” I say to the Aarap. “He is a creature of war.”
“He is of ek,” the Aarap buzzes, The Evil in my native language. “He cannot rest here in our universe.”
I look over at Chex, standing there, still dominated by the light. My gaze caresses him sympathetically. He is loyal and he cares. He has helped me get this far, striving toward my objectives, not his own. Those are no traits of dek ek, the evil. The evil is self-centered and aids none beyond its own ambitions. It cannot conjure affection for any being outside of itself.
“I understand,” I’m forced to say because those are the laws of this universe. “But he is traveling with us and he must go where we go. If he’s banished, then we all must be banished with him.” I widen my eyes at Na’ta, which is my way of asking for her support.
She sighs hard, shows me a tiny roll of the eyes and then nods once. “Any ideas on how to cross over into Ol without being seen by the Eye of Zkr?” she ask apathetically.
Without moving its head, the one Aarap shifts his eyes nervously at Chex.
“He’s subdued,” I promise.
The creature slithers toward Chex and circles him. The Selell does not move. He remains under the control of the light, although he eyes the creature cautiously.
“The darampeer cannot escape the eye within our borders. It is why you were discovered,” the Aarap squeals.
“Darampeer is the Selell,” I clarify.
“Yes,” the Aarap hisses, still circling Chex. “With the I’lek’u of Benel he may enter Ol of the Olligark, but only through the portal of the Ugu Mag of Dag, the plane of the separated humans.”
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