Discovery at Nerwolix

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Discovery at Nerwolix Page 13

by C. G. Coppola


  Deciding to ignore it for now, I head inside and plop down on my bed, my entire body giving out.

  I need a nap.

  And to not think anymore. Especially about today. There’s too much on my mind, too much to think about and I don’t want to concern myself with any of it. Staring at the golden veins in the wooden ceiling above, I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. My stomach still hurts. Just a slight throbbing now, I wish there was something like Vilbrees that I could put on it to make the ache go away. It’s not terrible, but I could do without the discomfort. Too exhausted to move, I follow the strands in the wood until a throat is cleared.

  Bolting up, my stomach roars in protest. I’m distracted when I see Reid in the archway. “Hey.”

  “Hi.”

  He smiles. “How’re you feeling?”

  I slip a hand over my belly. “My stomach hurts a little.”

  He frowns. A mixture of guilt and anger sweeps his face as he glances down, contemplating something. Finally he looks up again. “Want some company?”

  “Sure,” I nod him on and he moves into the room, the curtain flapping closed behind him. I bite my lip, watching his body work, all pain in mine evaporating. Suppressing a gulp, I do my best to clear my head. “So what did Sampson want?”

  “Wanted to talk to me about Walker again,” he sighs. “Says I should be acting more mature.”

  “You did kind of freak out on him in the tunnel.”

  He crosses his arms, leaning against the wall. “I wasn’t really going to kill him.”

  “Sort of looked like it.”

  “Good. That’s what I was going for.”

  “You convinced the Rogues.”

  “Maybe I should be an actor.”

  “Reid.”

  “Huh?”

  “You can’t kill him.”

  “I know… but when he says things sometimes…” he shrugs. “I just want to knock him out.”

  Replaying my conversation with the tribesman, a sudden wave of guilt stirs. Part of me wants to explain it to him, explain the reason behind all his comments and attitude, and the other says to leave it alone; the past is past and hopefully the two will move forward. “Just… don’t kill him.”

  “I promised Sampson I wouldn’t. Doesn’t mean I can’t get a good swing in,” he smiles, pushing himself from the wall. Slowly approaching me, he emits an intense, feral energy. “I don’t want to talk about Walker anymore.”

  “W-what do you want to do?” my throat goes dry.

  He flexes his brows.

  My heart races as fire burns through my blood, heating every inch of my body. “Reid…”

  “I love that sound…” he crawls up the bed, leaning me back.

  “What?”

  “You saying my name,” he kisses my neck, sending me into a frazzled dizziness. “It’s my favorite sound. Well…” he chuckles lightly to himself, “...one of them.”

  I bite my lip as he trails his fingers up my stomach. They sail higher and higher, my breath coming in short gasps, especially as he finds me with a gentle squeeze. I arch beneath him, trembling as a soft whimper escapes my open mouth. His lips work my sensitive skin, his fingers softly kneading me as fire rakes my body. Reid begins to grind his hips against mine.

  “Boss?” Tucker clears his throat outside the curtain. “Got a minute?”

  “Christ,” Reid pauses and drops his head with a grunt. “Yeah…” his voice comes out gravely, “give me a sec?”

  “Sure thing,” Tucker answers.

  “This may take longer than a minute,” he whispers against my neck. “We can uh… pick this up later?”

  I’m too heated to let him leave. “Sure you want to go?”

  A deep growl emits from the back of his throat. “No.”

  “Then stay…” I run my fingers down his chest and over the hard planes of his stomach. My fingers slip into the hem of his jeans and he shudders, a low groan escaping. Holding my face, he kisses me hard, grinding his hips against mine again. I pull on his button.

  “This need to be now?” Reid calls gruffly over his shoulder.

  “If it’s not a problem,” Tucker calls back.

  “Shit,” Reid drops his head in a pant. With a gulp, he runs his tongue over his lip and looks at me. “We’ll pick this up later, okay?” he kisses me once more. Forcing himself back, he climbs off the bed and with a final glance over my flushed skin, he smirks. “I’ll be thinking about it. Especially my spot,” he winks and heads past the curtain to Tucker. “Hey, let’s get the…”

  Leaning back on the bed, I let out a deep exhale. Maybe this is good. I did need to relax… and possibly take a nap. After everything today, it wouldn’t hurt to just close my eyes for a while. Listening to my own advice, I end up sinking into darkness as my eyelids grow heavy.

  ***

  She stares at me with wide, silver eyes. White hair billows around her face, occupying everything else. But I can’t even see it. It’s only her. It’s only those silver eyes, piercing through me, calling to me with their own majestic power.

  “It is time...” her mouth sits in a hard line but her voice echoes, ringing like chimes. “It is time. You must come find me.”

  “Where?” I hear myself ask.

  “They will lead you.”

  “Who?”

  “You must come find me. Follow them, and they will lead you.”

  “Who?”

  “You already know.”

  My eyes open.

  It’s dark—much darker than earlier. How many hours was I asleep? Rubbing my eyes, I sit up and glance down to my knees and shins. The scrapes are nearly healed. My stomach rumbles slightly and I place my hand over it. I should probably eat. Standing, I head for the curtain but pause, glancing back to the bed. There was something I needed to do—something important to remember.

  But what?

  I was only sleeping… maybe it had to do with Reid?

  Deciding I’d go find him after I get some food in me, I head past the red curtain and come to a complete halt.

  Chapter Eleven: Lynzees

  A pair of white wings float a foot from my face.

  We stare at each other for a second before it flutters back, another set of wings joining it. They circle one another, keeping mere feet from me as a third adds to the mix. Suddenly, I’m hit like a windstorm, the dream playing out again. This—this is what she meant.

  We are Lynzees, a soft voice echoes musically in my head, messengers of the Lost Princesses.

  You must come with us, another sings, you are expected.

  By who? I ask internally.

  The one who calls for you, the third answers. The one who has been calling for you.

  I glance around the city. The bridges are lit up with jars of the oversized fireflies, some glowing through the cracks in the swollen Eckle trunks, illuminating the homes around Zinnollo. Everything is still. Quiet. The others are probably in their own homes or grouped together in Sampson’s. I think about telling someone about the Lynzees… about what I’m about to do so they don’t worry.

  You must come with us, Fallon, the first one sings. She awaits.

  Where will you take me? I ask.

  To learn the truth, the first voice musically rings, drifting further back.

  What truth?

  The only truth there is, another sings, the only truth there ever was.

  I want to ask what that means, but I stop—they’ll lead me somewhere to have that very question answered. But what kind of truth? And about what? I should tell someone that I’m leaving. Just so they know. Just so they don’t worry.

  You must follow now, Fallon, one of the Lynzees drifts further back, it is time.

  I’ll come right back, right after all this, I rationalize. With a deep breath, I exhale. Okay.

  The Lynzees withdraw further, the three softly floating down the bridge and toward the closest post. I follow, and once on the ground, they lead out into the darkness for the Hylas Mountains where
we were earlier. That’s where I saw them before! It wasn’t my imagination. There was so much going on then, with the sparring Ludins and my knees and stomach screaming, I wasn’t sure if what I was seeing was real. But now I know it was. I should’ve known. They wanted me to follow then.

  Keeping up, I trudge further into the darkness, pass the low-hanging Yulus and around the heavy Eckles trunks, their six glowing wings the only guiding light in this blackness. I’m not sure how long I’ve been following them. I’m keeping to a steady and swift walk, but it’s night and I don’t want to crash into anything. Holding my arms around myself, I continually glance behind me. Has anyone noticed I’m gone? Will I be back in time before they worry?

  I push forward. Is it much further?

  It is not as far as it was.

  You will understand soon, another sings. She has been waiting for you, waiting for you to learn the truth.

  What is this truth? I ask again.

  It is not as far as it was, the third repeats, we will be with Her soon.

  I walk for another fifteen minutes or so, carefully treading through the dark trees as their white wings guide me. I’m not sure how far north I’ve wandered when they finally stop advancing. They swirl in and out of each other, inches from my nose.

  We are here.

  Five ancient Eckles open to a small clearing of grass between them. But these are different Eckles—trees from another time. Another reason. They sit in perfect unison, forming a precise hexagon with equal distance between their warped, knotted trunks. Their branches reach out to one another, as if hugging an old friend, keeping this secret place private and shielding it from the outside world. Yulus drip in full, rounded blossoms, glowing a slightly sharper green, illuminating the grass which shimmers beneath my feet. Interlocked in the lime leaves are glistening strands of billowing silver, like sparkling Christmas lights all around me. I don’t need my Callix. There’s enough light here to see everything and I know—I know this place is different. Ancient.

  Holy.

  “What is this place?”

  “The Origin of the Gifts,” a silky voice responds behind me.

  I spin as the tail end of a white dress disappears behind one of the five Eckles.

  “H-hello?” I step closer but pause, glancing around. Silence answers me and I try again. “The Origin?”

  “Where the Gifts were first given,” her voice travels from another direction. I spin toward it, finding a mere glimpse of her sparkling gown. But it disappears again, gone behind another trunk. I walk for it but her voice calls from behind me. “It is the oldest place of the Three Worlds. All kinds were created here.”

  “Who created them?”

  “I did, just as I have created everything.”

  “My home?” I try following the direction of her voice, but it keeps moving. “Earth?”

  “Everything,” she’s behind me, “just as there are different countries,” she’s up to the right, “there are different planets and galaxies,” over to the left, “so there are different Worlds. But it is all the same. Some much older than others… but there is no real difference, other than the separations you give it.”

  “Are you real?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you God?” I inhale.

  “There are several names…”

  “Why am I here?”

  “You do not know?” her voice sails from behind me again and I’m tempted to turn. But she’ll be gone, so I keep my feet planted in place. “You have questioned this several times.”

  “I can’t go back,” I give in, spinning to find her passing behind a tree. Long white hair cascades down her back but she disappears again before I get a good look.

  “Back?” her voice comes from the far right.

  “To Earth,” I say, turning again. “To my old life.”

  “Why go back when you can go forward?”

  She keeps moving, appearing and just as fast, disappearing, all over the surrounding trees. I turn, looking for her again, hoping she’ll finally stop, finally reveal herself to me. “Are you the one from my dreams?”

  “I speak in several ways,” she’s on my left, “when there is something that must be heard.”

  “They—the Lynzees—told me it was the truth. That I would find out the truth?”

  “The Lynzees do not lie.”

  “What is it?” I spin again, searching for her. “What’s the truth?”

  “You,” she’s behind me. “It is you.”

  “What?” I spin again, my heart stilling as I see her.

  It’s the same silver eyes from my dream. They sit like diamonds in her aged face, tiny wrinkles pulling at their corners and around the edges of her mouth. White hair cascades over bare shoulders, curling down her bodice which shimmers like wet webs of lace. Her entire gown is made of delicate, gossamer strands that glisten with beads of fresh rain, from the slant of her arms to the slender curve of her wrist and down to the ground where it billows, turning the dark dirt into a glowing silver. Ethereal. Breathtaking.

  She steps forward and I inhale.

  “Do not be afraid, Fallon,” she moves closer. “It is time you returned.”

  “Returned?”

  “Your time on Earth is concluded. You belong here, with the remainder of your family, with those who share your ancient blood.”

  “My—what?”

  She steps closer, her silver eyes sparkling into mine. “Ruth Gillian was not the last who shared this connection. Nor are you. There is another, here on Nerwolix. He will reveal the truth if you simply ask for it…” she slowly fades until she vanishes completely.

  “Simply ask for what? What do you mean?” I spin, looking for her. “I don’t understand!”

  “There is much you must learn…” her voice echoes, dying into a whisper, “much you must do…”

  “What do you mean?” I spin again. “Wait! Come back!”

  But there’s nothing. Only silence.

  I jet forward, dodging behind each tree, checking every one. Where did she go? She just disappeared, evaporating right in front of me. What did she mean ancient blood? And ask who what? I keep going, keep searching, my heart racing as I deck in and out of the five Eckles. She’s got to be here, behind one of these trees. Have I checked them all? I jet from one trunk to the next, hoping I’ll find her. Hoping for some glimpse of her.

  But she’s gone.

  And I’m alone.

  Except for the Lynzees. Three pairs of wings float inches from my face, circling around each other, and me. I have no idea where I am—no idea how to get back to the treetop canopy of Zinnollo. But I’m not sure I want to go. Not yet. I want to stay and talk. I want to ask more questions. I’m not ready to leave.

  We will take you back, one sings inside my head, the others are worried about you.

  Will She come back?

  Not tonight, another’s voice musically echoes.

  Will She come back at all?

  If there is something you need to know, the first withdraws. Come, we will return you to Zinnollo.

  With their glow and the pinkish light from my Callix, I scan the area again, hoping for one last glimpse. But She’s not here. I’m alone near the Hylas Mountains and it’s time to go.

  The Lynzees sail through the dark night air, guiding me back toward Zinnollo. It takes the same thirty minutes to return, but the entire time I replay what happened. I replay what She looked like, what She said and how part of me knows that it’s the truth. There’s something inside me, something unique that I’ve been trying to understand this entire time. I’m different. She says I have ancient blood. But how? And what does that mean? I play our conversation over and over, trying to memorize it so I can tell Sampson and the others. They’ll want to know the details. And I plan on giving them as many as possible.

  Once I reach the city, I jet up one of the posts and head for Sampson’s home as fast as possible. He’s probably wondering where I am. And Reid. I should’ve told him where
I was going before I left. But there was no time. They’ll understand once I tell them. They’ll know I had no choice but to follow.

  Pulling back the red curtain, I pause. Everyone is squeezed in the compact space, a tense air suffocating the room. Most of the Rogues lean against the walls with anxious frowns while Able, Pratt, Mae and Walker pace in the middle. Reid is in the back with Sampson and the others, arguing.

  “Fallon!” Pratt races up and throws her arms around me. “You’ve got to stop doing this!”

  “Fallon?” Reid calls, running over. Pratt lets go just as he wraps his arms around my body, squeezing it against his. He nearly crushes me, his arms steel bars around my body, refusing to let go. Finally he pulls back, and just enough so he can look between my eyes. “Where were you?”

  “The Lynzees,” I look past him, between Sampson and Blovid. “They came to me. Took me—”

  “You saw them?” Blovid steps forward.

  “They appeared. I had to follow them to—”

  “Okay,” Sampson cuts me off, scanning the space. He moves forward and taking a deep breath, starts with his usual authoritative tone. “Fallon has returned. There is no more need for panic or to carry on with our current plans. Why don’t you all return to your homes, gets some rest and we’ll reconvene tomorrow for breakfast?”

  “What happened?” Pratt asks. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine…” I glance toward the Fychu, aware he doesn’t want me to discuss this in front of the others. “I just need to talk to Sampson.”

  “You’re filling me in later, bestie,” Able winks. “Alright?”

  “You got it.”

  Everyone shuffles out and I’m left with Reid, Sampson, Clarence, Blovid, Qippert, Jothkore and Vix.

  “Reid?” Sampson raises a brow.

  Instead of retreating, he threads his fingers with mine, cementing our hands.

 

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