The knife I was given by Tom is called Anathema which means set apart. Could it be that it is an ancient weapon from the time of the Shining Ones? Why would Tom give something so valuable to me? I can’t help but wonder if it will find its way back to its true owner. I pull out Anathema and pay attention to every detail. It is a work of art with the tiny, lifelike horses carved into the ivory handle and the detail of a tree winding its branches around the handle. As I take in every detail I remember a class I took in school that studied root words in Latin and Greek. “Ana” means to set apart or was it to set apart as sacred? I can recall seeing that word in that class. Anathema. Anathema. I think it means set apart for destruction. It’s all guesswork but these days that’s the only thing I have to go on.
I guess it doesn’t matter what it is designed to do. It’s mine now to do with as I feel appropriate. It looks like a sword from the handle but is too short to be one. The blade is razor sharp and if I could get close enough to an enemy to cut them it would be ideal. It doesn’t make sense why something so carefully forged would have such limited span. I hold my arm as far as I can and move it counterclockwise to get a feel for the weight. The metal begins to emit a white glow the faster I rotate my arm. I rotate faster and mist comes off the blade. After a few rotations there is a defined circle that is glowing white hot and mist begins to form in the middle of the circle.
I step back and the mist turns from white to grey and then turns clear. Inside the circle I can see people sitting around a table holding hands. When the mist clears the mist clears one of the men stands up and looks right at me. I step back quickly until I am against the wall of the cave. I know instinctively that he can see me. He has dark hair and blazing eyes that seem to burn into me. He stares at me for a moment and then smiles while reaching out his arm.
“Come Ivy. We have been waiting for you”. As he speaks he is gesturing for me to come through the portal.
Jast lets out a shrill whinny and I break the man’s gaze. He continued to gesture to me to come. “Bring your horse too Ivy” he says . His lips tightened for a moment and a flicker of anger flashed across his face.
I don’t know what to do but if I don’t do something fast he may come through and take me. I jump forward to cut the circle and white flame shoots out from Anathema and I am encompassed in the light. It moves around me and I feel as though I have become one with it. An emotion that I can only describe as sacred is flowing through me. I am aware that there is a person in the light but I cannot see anyone. I know instinctively that I am on the precipice of a doorway. A mist filled doorway to the otherworld and a presence that knows me intimately.
Then I have the feeling of being alone again. The circle turns to mist and then fades away. The knife is now extended four plus feet and is emitting a light unlike anything I have seen before. It is searing hot but also cool to the touch. I pull my arm back and the flame retracts and disappears. Reality shifted in a matter of seconds and I was between worlds. Something in the mist embraced me with a peace I have only felt once before in the white light from my locket. The light had held me in what felt like pure love and gave me a rush of happiness. It was a living light and something dwelled just inside its mist. A fountain of energy sprang up in the center of my reality and now that it’s gone I feel a sense of longing- to be part of the spirit realm.
In the past few months I have had an almost overwhelming desire to do something meaningful with my life. I wanted to make a difference in the world-even if in a small way. Fear of failure or the humiliation of rejection kept me from doing the things I wanted to do. That old childhood insecurity was a difficult persona to shrug off. Life had changed so much that none of that matters anymore.
It’s funny. I don’t really like Lisa or David but if it hadn’t been for them I would never have met Tom, found Jast or been given Anathema. For the first time, I allow myself to think about the possibility that I may have a destiny. Something more than the daughter of the town drunk or the girl who always ends up in various kinds of trouble. No more of that for me. That was never who I was but the idea that I may be something more; more than what I am, well thatkind of scares me. I don’t want to face any more disappointments. Every time I have allowed myself to truly think about the possibility that I could be happy then something happens. I guess all I can do is take it as it comes. For now, I need to break down camp and do what I came to do here.
Once I roll up my sleeping bag and tie it behind the saddle my mood shifts to serious. The man in the portal most likely has an idea where I am hiding and I sense that someone will be coming for me. I am not only the hunter but also the hunted. I feel like I am a kid again sneaking into neighbor’s house to find food.
Despite the hours I slept last night I am tired. I shake of the groggy feeling and swing up into the saddle. The morning is half past and I need to put miles between myself and this place. My mind drifts to Maggie, with her blond hair swept back and her beautiful oval face. Her eyes seemed haunted and she looked so lost in her pale mauve seersucker shirt and jeans when last I saw her.
There was something about her that I can’t put my finger on. She wasn’t the type to pretend she was anything she was not but she had an air about her like she was someone of importance. Or at least she had been at some time in her existence. Maggie reminded me of a painting I had seen hanging in a museum of a grand lady. Sitting in a chair looking off into the distance with her wide, blue eyes, full of- worry? What more is there to the story?
The forest seems to go on forever. The land is wild and there are trees as far as my eyes can see. The hills rise higher with each passing hour and in the distance I can see mountains. There is something very unsettling about the forest today. I listened, straining my ears to catch ghostly sounds in the woods. The sound of branches rustling and wind moaning through the trees was expected but I thought I heard the distant sound of hooves galloping.
The valley is cool and pale with weird afternoon shadows falling on the ground. I think I hear a snort off in the distance but can’t be sure. A frown creases my face as the scent of charred ashes is carried on a smoky wave of heat. I stop Jast, and breathe deeply; while turning my head to determine the origin of the odor. It seems to be coming from all around me which can’t be possible.
A shrill cry sounds off somewhere to the far left. It sounds like a lost child but my heart tells me it is something else. Things that live in this old world are shadows of people that once existed. I had expected to see blazing faces when I came here but have seen only a few apparitions. It is desolate and seems to be void of inhabitants. This is not what I expected to find here, at the end of the world, where the dead are said to never rest.
I ride through a narrow canyon which appears so different than the terrain I have been through in the past few days. It almost seems like an entryway into someplace else. The opening starts out broad and tapers off at the end. When I emerge from the canyon, I am in a field that is flanked on either side by thick timber and a mountain on the right. The mountain looms far ahead and has a dark and foreboding feeling about it. Guided by a feeling, almost like a memory, I ride toward the gloomy precipice. I don’t want to go there but it is drawing me to it.
I ride another mile and the trees are so thick that I have to slow my pace to get safely through them. Then they start to thin out and I can hear the gurgling sound of stream up ahead. Red rock stands in contrast to the gnarled trees that line either side of the slope leading up to the sheer rock of the mountain. I train my eye on the brilliant red and gold of the rock. Something in the center of it beckons. I strain my eyes to see better and I imagine that I see the tiniest gleam of light flashing off the rock. It may not be a light but simply the way the shadows are falling on it.
I close my eyes and try to imagine an opening. I can see the mountains that swell up to meet the sky and the contrast of the trees to the red of the sheer rock wall. In the darkness of my closed lids I can clearly see the flash of light.
When I o
pen my eyes and see only the afternoon shadow of trees falling on the mountain. Closing my eyes with new determination I can see the mountain flanked on either side by trees. I see the sparse shrubs that lead up the incline between the two stands of trees. I guide my mind’s eye to the area between the two stands of forest and there it is. I slowly take in every detail and then I see a shimmering opening on the rock wall. I move closer to the wall, and I shiver, despite the knowledge that this is just a vision.
Above the opening I can just make out some words carved into the stone. They say The way is known. Just inside the mouth of the opening is a very old road that leads right into the mountain. The road appears to be made of broken stones that have been carefully inserted into the ground. The opening is emitting scents of fresh grass, honeysuckle and the aroma of fresh baked bread.
I squeeze my legs and urge my horse closer to the mountain. We travel slowly up the incline passing the old, gnarled trees on either side. Out of the corner of my eye I see a girl gesturing at me. I turn from the path we are on, my eyes still closed, and see Jen standing there. Her face is pale and her shirt is stained with blood. The contrast of the white shirt and red blood makes me gasp. Jen is frantically gesturing for me to keep going and points to the opening in the mountain.
My eyes open with a start and Jen is gone. I am reminded of what the Shining Ones said about the drifting together of the worlds. My heart is beating wildly and a stab of fear goes through me. Is Jen dead and warning me to leave this place? Everything seems dark. Something feels wrong. Something is very wrong. My thoughts are cut short at the sound of a scream.
“Oh God. -Someone help me”. The sound of wicked laughter echoes in my mind and the air is charged with electricity.
Something inside me seems to explode and whirl around and start in the direction of the scream. Wind blurs my vision as we pick up speed. The scenery flashes pastand I hunch over Jast’s neck to reduce wind resistance. When I reached the canyon I pull Jast to an abrupt halt and dismount. I free my bow from the saddle and sling my quiver over my shoulder.
Below me, I see what initially appears to be a large man but I quickly take note that he has dark wings. As I move closer, I can see that it has eyes like a snake that are fiery red. Two more, of the same type of demons, stand near the first and their voices sound as though they are a great multitude. Tied to a tree, is a young man, with dark hair. A demon pokes him with what appears to be a stick with a red hot stone on the end. The victim’s arms are pulled taunt and his body is slumping down. I can’t tell if he’s dead or simply passed out.
I am standing just upward from the demons and position my bow. My feet are shoulder width apart and my left foot is slightly back. I lock my arm and hold the bow securely in my left hand. I Pull back on the string until its taunt and load the arrow in the center.
I take aim and let the arrow fly. The arrow finds its way to the heart of the demon standing by the victim. As quick as lightening another arrow follows the first one and sinks into demon’s chest.
The other demons turn to see what’s going on and their eyes burn with hate when they see me. Their arms are overlong and end with broad hands, bony fingers and razor sharp nails. Giant wings fan the air and they lift off the ground to take flight.
Within seconds I grab an arrow from the quiver, load it and it pierces the creature. It staggers, pulls the shaft from its chest and throws it on the ground. The creature raises itself off the ground to fly and but the wound is gushing blood and it drops back down. It staggers for a moment and then falls to the ground. Its breath comes short and fast as the life force fades away.
The final creature lifts to the ground and flies high in the air. It turns toward me and raises a long arm as though in victory. You will die today it calls out with a voice that sounds like 20 men. In an instant it moves higher in the sky and is gone in a matter moments. It will only be a matter of time before it returns with many more of its kind.
I make my way quickly to the person bound to the tree. His head is slumped and his hair falls over his face. I waste no time feeling his neck for a pulse and expect to find him dead. He has a massive burn to his thigh and blood pumps from a wound on his arm.
I run to my saddle bag and pull out Anathema. As I pull the knife out of the sheath it glows as though alive with white flame. I put my arms around the man to support him as I touch the ropes. He is heavier than he appears and I almost fall under his weight. I brace him with my shoulder and help him to sit down and lean against the tree he had just been cut free from.
Surveying his arm I try and decide what I should do. He is losing massive amounts of blood and from the shredding of flesh it’s likely an artery has been severed. Not knowing what else to do I decide to touch the wound with the flame of the knife. It is cool to the touch but it’s worth a try to see if the flame can cauterize.
Anathem a’s blade is brought down on the wound and the skin sizzles and pops. There is a rush of steam from the place the blade touched and when I remove it the bleeding has stopped.
The skin appears to be closed and the area smooth to the touch. The wound has the remarkable appearance of a burn that has healed in its entirety.
The man began to move and tried to raise his head. When he finally gathered the strength to raise his head and look at me I had to take a step backwards from the shock. I turn around and take a few deep breaths to recover my composure. Once my heart rate steadied enough for me to regain my thoughts I slowly turn to face him.
His gaze is unwavering and intense. I stand here not knowing what to say and utterly confused about how I feel. Why should I care about what happens to him? Why did I have to meet him again? The past is better left untouched but the memories swirl around in my mind.
He is the one I thought I would spend forever with. The one that took my breath away and made my world feel right. There was a time when we could finish each other’s sentences and I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking now. So much has changed since I last saw him. I found my way out of the dark ally of my mind and have grown comfortable in my own skin. I had no choice but to move on and make the best of things. Grandma June and Jen had told me to stop whining and move on and that’s what I did. How am I supposed to pretend like nothing happened?
The memories assault my mind with clarity and I try and push them back. I can see myself, as I looked that day, as if it were yesterday. It was finals week and I stayed late to finish a project. I can remember the sound of the frozen snow underneath my feet as I left the school campus. The wind was blowing and the news had said it was going to snow again.
My green coat was pulled tight around me as I ran towards home. My backpack full of books awkwardly slid from side to side as I ran. Cold air burned my lungs. I remember slowing to a walk to catch my breath and then hearing footsteps behind me. I veered off the road and planned to take a shortcut homebut it didn’t register with me that the deep snow would slow me down- until it was too late. The area I ran into was heavily wooded and it was difficult to pick up the pace as the snow became deep.
Then I could hear many footsteps behind me. I turned around to look and found that I was being followed by a group of senior boys. They are laughing and taunting me.
“You are nothing but a whore Ivy. We know you want it. Tyler told us all about you”. The boys grabbed me by the hair and ripped off my coat. The last face I saw, as I was punched in the face, was Tyler. He just stood off by himself and watched the events unfold. He said nothing as blood ran down my face. When I called to him he just looked away. I called to him a few times and when another punch connected with the side of my head I passed out.
It was freezing cold and snowing when I woke up. No one was around and footprints of the boys trailed off away from where I was lying. I recall forcing myself to get up and put my coat back on. Bleeding and injured, I made my way through the woods. I could barely rememberthe way to Jen’s house as I limped through the snow.
The school year went by in a whirlwind
and Tyler never spoke to me again. He passed me in the halls but looked right past me. I could be standing right in front of him and he would not acknowledge me. Life after that was defined by going through the motions of each day. The idealistic girl who had plans to help the world was gone. The dreams of the future filed away in the back of my mind. Tyler had taken all that away from me. What he did had consumed me and taken away a part of my soul.
Now he needs my help. Tyler’s effect on me had not changed. It was the same as it had been 2 years ago. My thoughts stumble over each other as I try and sort it out. I can feel panic rising up in me and I might have known that if Tyler resurfaced in my life I would feel this way. The thought of having to take him with me is exasperating. I am especially frustrated looking at the renewed hope in his eyes. A cold angerstirred in my chest. He didn’t even care what happened to me for almost 2 years and now he’s turned up again. For what? Why is he even here?
Tyler looked me full in the face and his gaze wavered for a moment. As though reading my mind he cleared his throat then started to speak.“I shouldn’t have run away Ivy. I amnot only an idiot but also a coward”.
I am speechless. There were so many the rumors that he had broken up with me, and behind it all, was something so much worse. I can I believe a word he says? Sitting there acting as though he had no other options than what he opted to do that day. Well things were different now. I am no longer the little girl with the drunken mother that he was too ashamed to bring home to meet his family. The playing field is leveled now and he won’t make it here without me. I should leave him here to rot.
“What makes you think I would ever - ever- forgive you”? The words came choking out of me, almost in a rage.
“I would have to agree you are an idiot but don’t think I care to hear your excuses”. Blood rushed to my face as I spoke and my voice quavered. How arrogant of him to think that I can simply pretend that nothing happened. The thought of him being left here alone in this miserable place is appealing to me.
Underworld (Dark Passage) Page 12