by Renea Taylor
However, that tiny revelation of weakness, that darned vulnerability, was an emotion I couldn’t fight, then as the tears began to rapidly chase one another down my cheeks, I sunk to the ground, sobs wracking my frame, never aware of the sickness within the eyes that watched me from within the darkness.
* * *
Several hours later found Dante staring into the black depths of the coffee within his cup.
Reaching up, he ran a shaky hand through his hair, he felt sick to his stomach, his emotions raw, and drawing in deep breaths, he attempted to gain some resemblance of calm as he sat wondering what the blazes he did form there, unsure of what he could do at this point.
Jesus Christ, he couldn't be around Kira without wanting to be buried up to his balls inside her.
A need that was causing an ever-increasing battle to just make it to her birth place, for with each sexual encounter between them, he transgressed that much further from his light, hastening his fate towards the darkness, and it had reached the point that he now needed help to stay away from her.
Standing, Dante tossed the dregs in the bottom of his cup to the ground, and then crumpling the Styrofoam within his hand, he blew out a breath of frustration and fear, then went in search of Sirrus.
Chapter 18
Time doesn’t bring answers I’d found, and though I'd blindingly trusted Dante, following where he led, I'd begun to question what we were even doing out in this God forsaken jungle.
We’d been traipsing through it's denseness now for days, and I’d lost track of time so early in our journey it could have, for all I knew, been months since we'd first entered its depths, and day after day, smothering hot, moisture and humidity riddled days, we’d continued, the lot of us, placing one foot in front of the other until I thought I’d go mad with the predictability of it all, as well the incessant insect buzzing, the daily drenching and the green!
Lord, I was beginning to hate any tint of the color, for it seemed to be the only thing on the palette in this portion of the living hellhole we were making our way through.
Hell, a splash of pink, a glimpse of orange or the purple hues of the vegetation we'd encountered at the beginning of our journey would have been pure heaven, but not here, no, here there was only green!
As well, never in my life would I have suspected I’d begin to hate the smell of vegetation, but within the cocoon of green, their was no air, no way to draw a fresh breath of oxygen, and the odor of vegetation was everywhere, over powering and pungent in its stifling heaviness!
Jesus would it never end!
And, what in Gods name were we actually in search of? I was quickly beginning to have a shifting of opinion of what this hallowed ground must be, for when we'd started into the jungle, I'd carried within my mind the idea that it was something close to what heaven was often described as, but now I'd decided that it must be closer to hell!
It didn’t help matters any that Dante was doing every thing he could to avoid me, and I'd become irrationally irritated over it.
However, already on edge from a morning I thought would never end, I found the second half to be much worse as I couldn't help wishing Dante had continued to ignore me, for through out the afternoon, he'd gone out of his way to dig at me, not even trying to pretend otherwise, and when the days trek had finally drawn to a stop, I was in such an emotional state over the days battering, that when he glanced in my direction with what I considered another condescending look, I burst into tears
Glancing in my direction, he took in the tears, his expression shifting to where it became unreadable, before with a brief hesitation, he snorted and sneered, “jeez what a fucking baby!”
In an instant I'd covered the space that separated us, and raising my hand I brought it against his cheek in a stinging, open handed slap, at which I heard Heather breath, “oh holy hell!”
Realizing my mistake to late, I swallowed quite audibly as Dante shook his head, the slap seemingly having rattled his brain, then face darkening, he lunged towards me as, with a snarling hiss he yanked me up off my feet and over his shoulder.
Pivoting around in a ferocious twist, I found myself glancing at the ground behind us, fully expecting to see a hole he’d dug with the move, then jerking my eyes up, I watched the uncertain movements of the others as they faded behind us, except for Sirrus, as he was shadowing Dante's every move.
Dante stomped into the trees, and if the way a person walked could be described as snarling, then every step he took was a roar, expressing quite clearly that he was livid with me, however he seethed in silent anger as his stride ate up the ground and spit it back out behind him with each ferocious swipe of his legs and feet, their movement taking us deeper and deeper into the jungle.
Then, in one smooth and unexpected move he stopped, and I found myself on my feet before him, his glare raking across my face and making my flesh shirk beneath the anger that spiraled out of the depths of his eyes.
Expecting a good thrashing I flinched visibly, then found myself floored when, never releasing his hold on me, his head whipped up, and I watched him literally sniff the air around us, before gripping my waist tighter he picked me back up and tossed me up and onto his shoulder again, as he and the shadowing Sirrus took off at a run back towards the others.
A short time later I was to find myself being rapidly moved through the forest as, knees now tightly gripping Dante’s waist, we advanced through the jungle, limbs, vines and thorny ropes be damned, for the lot of us moved as one, Sirrus and five other men to the front of us, three to each side and four orderly rows of six wide behind us.
Distance I'd quickly discovered, was of the utmost importance, and I could do nothing more than close my eyes and hang on.
For hours we continued to move, never slowing as on through the night and into the sunrise of the next day we traveled, where from time to time I would find myself, during what seemed to be the longest, most endless and darkest hours I’d ever endured as I was shifted about in a game of musical piggyback.
Though my chauffeurs never slowed, nor missed a step in their stride, I found myself shuffled from Dante’s back to Sirrus’s as they traded places then back to Dante again several hours later, all the while Arreon, though right behind us, didn't offer, nor was it ask of him, to share in the burden of carrying me.
Which, if I’d had my preference, no one would have been doing at all.
However, as I was not capable of covering the large amount of ground as they could without tiring, I was forced to sit silent, watching as Arreon’s face grew darker and darker, more angered with each mile that passed behind us as he glared at Dante every chance he got, yet never expressed his thoughts vocally.
After one such incident I could sense, no, make that feel the resulting anger within Dante as his frame grew tighter, more taut beneath me until I finally snapped, “what the hell is it with you and Arreon?”
Dante remained mute, even though I knew he'd heard me, for I'd felt him stiffen, and with a huff, I found myself wanting to throw up my hands in disgust, however, the inclination was all but forgotten in the next instant, as we finally broke out of the thick vegetation, the sun startling in its brightness after the green cocoon, and I felt myself sag, nearing the point of mental exhaustion, and wondering how much more I could take.
A question I was to later, much later, wish I’d never had, for I was to find out just how much more I could.
* * *
At last, the grueling pace of the commute that had begun hours, many hours earlier ended as Dante and Sirrus, though obviously still uneasy about the decision, decided it necessary to allow a rest period.
I slid off Dante’s back, and immediately my legs began seizing, cramping with severe pain and uttering a cry I sunk to my knees.
Finding no relief, I flopped over to wreath in agony, unaware that Arreon had quickly moved to my side until he reached out and lifted me, then gripping me against his chest he glared at Dante roaring, “I ought to rip your god-damn balls o
ff and shove them up your ass you know that?”
At which Dante roared back, “come get'em!”
Loosening his hold on me and rising to his feet Arreon took a step towards Dante, however at the feel of my hand on his leg as I reached out and grasp him, he glanced down into my face watching my face, already pale with pain, blanch even paler washing of all color until it was nearly iridescent, and stilling he stood glowering at Dante before finally snapping, “how much further then?”
Absently rubbing at my throbbing legs, trying to ease the cramps that were still ripping at the sinuous tissues that made up my muscles I glanced between Dante and Arreon, seeing Arreon's features infuse with the purplish hue of rage as Dante's stood mute, then with a ripple of intense fury shaking his frame Arreon snarled, “you have no fucking idea, do you Dante,” then jerking his leg free of my hand he turned and moved away.
The words he'd uttered had barely faded before I was again perched on Dante’s back, a position I wasn’t in the least happy about, for I was still suffering the occasional mild muscle cramp. However, I nonetheless remained quiet, non-complaining, for though I disliked the pain, I disliked even more the war that was brewing between Dante and Arreon over me, however the moans of pain I made within, were an all together different matter, for I was the only one to hear them.
Several more hours passed before the whole procession came to a complete standstill again, and I found myself being slowly lowered off Dante's back towards the ground my eyes bugging, as out of the trees figures began to emerge, looking much like the vaporous mists of ghosts, and I felt my legs begin trembling, threatening to collapse beneath me.
One after another they came, the men came until three dozen stood before us.
I stood cowering behind Dante as he stood beneath an onslaught of eyes that glared in our direction.
Shudders rippled down my back as I peeked around Dante's wide shoulders, and felt myself let out a slight relief of breath, for though a tall, massively built redhead stepped forward, presumably a spokesperson for the other me, or possibly their leader, he wasn't an unholy, however, glaring at Dante he snarled “what business have you here?”
Then without another word, Dante turned slightly and reaching out began pulling my protesting form forward before, grasping the thin gold chain around my neck, and pulling the loose, where all could see the amulet, he snarled, “she is our business!”
The Amulet hadn't even completely cleared the neckline of my shirt before a smile began to flirt around the edges of Dante's mouth as the men began to mutter in hushed voices among themselves as they shot nervous glances at me, then finally with a nod the redhead muttered, “we are the keepers of the Hallowed Forest.”
* * *
Soon afterward, I found total confusion consuming me, for Heather had begun to act strangely toward me, as if somehow I'd been transformed, turning into something other than who I'd been just hours earlier.
Someone or something, that she was seeing in a new light, something that apparently she and everyone else, found uncomfortable to be within close proximity of.
A situation I didn't care for in the least, as the oddity of having everyone barely making eye contact with me, as if I were something to be feared…made me uneasy, a feeling that was beginning to border towards paranoia, for an uneasy atmosphere hovered within the air anytime I was near.
On through another night we traveled however, but this time there was no musical piggyback, for instead my butt and legs found themselves thoroughly established on Dante's back, his hips my saddle and hands my stirrups, the support much needed as there were unexpected reprieves from my emotions, as I was so exhausted and bone weary, that my mind would shut down, sleeping even while my eyes remained open.
I saw nothing while the seconds, minutes, and on the rare occasion even, hours passed as my brain slumbered.
So it was when I startled awake again, that I couldn't perceive what was before me, for as we stood on the edge of the tree line, I caught a glimpse of yet another impossibility, for I was gazing upon a city of Gold!
Blinking stupidly, it took several moments for the realization that it was just the rising sun bouncing off the golden toned rocks that made up the city, and that it wasn't actually made of Gold.
Yet the splendor of it made me gasp, for it was beautiful, and so far out of place that it was alien in this horrid jungle of green.
Suddenly the redheaded Adonis's voice caught my attention as he gazed before us, then spreading his arms wide towards the city he turned and stated, “welcome” just as at that exact minute a crackling laugh rang out around us.
I gave a start as the oldest, and tiniest person I'd ever seen stepped out of the shadows of the trees. It, for at this point its gender was indecipherable, shuffled towards us in a long flowing brown robe which reminded me of Yoda's.
Then drawing to a stop, the gender-less being stood before us, cloudy brown eyes gazing out at us from a face wrinkled so badly it looked as if it had been submerged beneath water for many, many years.
Its head supported a shockingly white mop of hair that framed the pruned face, yet even as I took all this in, I couldn't miss the wizened aura that practically shimmered in the air around it as, peering in our direction it breathed, “it's about damn time, where the hell you been?”
I choked, a bubble of laughter spilling forth before I could stop it as I found myself totally captivated by the tiny being, for the words it uttered were the last thing I had expected to pass its celestial lips.
Maybe some type of prophecy or biblical phrase yes, but not that!
Then it continued, “I was beginning to think I was going to be called to Heaven before you got her here!”
Suddenly feeling ashamed and contrite, for exactly what I didn't know, I nonetheless found myself whispering, “I'm sorry if you were kept waiting…” hesitating to say more as I remained unsure of how I was supposed to address this…person.
Another cackle reached my ears, as if it knew of my inner struggle, and leaning forward, as though it thought I was deaf, shouted, “you may call me Gran dear!”
I stared, for I couldn't help myself as I squeaked, “…Gran?”
Turning, Gran eyed Dante for several seconds, then finally with a sigh stated, “you did well Dante” before turning and beginning to shuffle away.
Eyes still wide I watched it slowly put distance between us, the words “you comin' or gonna stand there all day” trailing out behind it.
* * *
Fifteen minutes later I stared down at what had been placed within my hands, having no idea of just what exactly I was supposed to do with it, for I really had no clue as to what it even was.
Gran had reverently given it to me and now stood back, waiting, as though having no doubt either it, or I, was going to do something spectacular.
It was a bizarre item, approximately thirteen inches wide, maybe fifteen inches in length, and an inch, maybe an inch and a half in thickness.
It supported strange symbols from the top to the bottom, yet each and every one, meaningless to me.
My eyes shot open wide though, as the symbols began to shift, the strange drawings changing shapes, shortening and lengthening, some going flat while others rounded or squared, and glancing up I saw Gran nod, almost in a manner of affirmation.
Still staring down at the odd object I murmured, “what is it?”
Cracking one eye open, Gran peered in my direction and murmured, “your confirmation” then both eyes popping open, the aged mouth cackled, “it appears we better get busy” before breathing “much to teach, and much to learn!”
Then, with cloudy eyes penning me beneath their gaze, the wizened being stated, “come girl.”
* * *
I found myself a short time later in a tiny, dusty, cluttered room as Gran puttered about mumbling, “now, where has it gotten to” as poking and sorting through row after row, as well jumble after jumble, of books, papers and an assortment of other items, Gran finally cam
e up crowing, having unearthed what was being sought.
Then, quite energetically and nimbly for one of such advanced age, whipped about and peering intently at me whispered, “this belongs to you child.”
Within the ancient and gnarled hand was a small, green bag, no more than two inches in size.
The words of “open it” were softly whispered, and taking the bag I stared at it a few seconds before with a shrug, I pulled at the drawstrings that held it closed, then tipping the bag towards my palm, I allowed its contents to spill forth.
I gazed at the locket in my hand, somehow knowing instantly what it contained, and I felt myself begin to tremble, my breath catching in a hitch as, with shaking fingers I lifted the small object from my palm.
Carefully I began to pry it open, only to find I could do nothing but stare at the features of the woman I’d seen only once before, when I was locked within one of the horrible nightmares after being attacked by Jabar.
Then, as if from a long distance away, I heard Gran whisper, “its was your mothers dear, and in has been kept safe for you all these many years for when you arrived.”
For several hours, Gran sat with me, and though I learned the aged being was male, I never learned exactly where his place was in this strange odyssey.
I was, however, told of my mother and of how shortly after my birth, she had passed, and that shortly after, I'd been placed within an orphanage.
My identity had been stricken from existence for my protection, leaving no trace of my bloodline, except within the small crystal, a symbol that bore my placement within the seed of things, but only to those who knew how to read it.
Gran spoke of my mother, and of the fact that it was through her, that I came about being a descendant of a line of powerful spell invokers, and that the locket held not a portrait of my mother as I had had first assumed, but that of a long ago ancestor.
Finally, when it appeared as if Gran had said all he would of my mother, he begun teaching me of the powers I would one day yield as well.