by Angie West
I sighed and placed a hand on her tiny shoulder, trying hard to think of something comforting to say. I gave her what I hoped would be seen as a reassuring smile, hugging her close as we walked out the door.
“That’s right, Ash, Mommy did say that. And usually it is better to wait for the daylight to take a walk, especially a long walk like the one we are about to take, but I promise you we’re going to be perfectly safe. Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Good because I don’t want you to worry. I am going to take care of everything. We are going to be fine. You’re safe now and you always will be.” I led her firmly from the room, not wanting to risk discussing our plans in the middle of the hotel lobby, even deserted as it was at such a late hour. Although I had not seen Jones, his men, or any other suspicious-looking people lurking about, and even though I was reasonably certain we had not been followed, I was still on edge and chose to err on the side of caution. I kept a watchful eye on our surroundings as we moved farther away from lights and civilization, each and every step taking us deeper into the shadowy, sketchy, predatory world that made up the wilderness at night.
We had walked a little over a mile when Ashley’s steps began to slow. Her thin shoulders drooped and I could tell that the poor thing was getting tired. I could only imagine what she must have been feeling.
The heat was not as intense as it would have been in the bright, sweltering light of day, but we weren’t accustomed to the significantly warmer climate and had a long way yet to go.
“Would you like to sit down for a minute?” I asked, halting our travel.
“Yes. Can I have some water?”
“Of course.” I set my pack on the ground and plunked her down on top of it, uncapped one of the bottles I had packed for our journey, and handed it to her. It was not only hot, but muggy and humid outside, and she drank nearly half of the bottle in three enormous gulps.
“I’m sorry I drank so much.” She was embarrassed.
“That’s okay. We have plenty of water. Trust me when I say we’re in no danger of running out anytime soon. Besides, we should get where we are going a lot faster than that,” I assured.
“Where are we going?”
“Well,” I took a deep breath. “We are going to a place called the Cave of Shadows.”
“It sounds scary.”
“Yes, perhaps it does,” I agreed. “The Cave of Shadows is a very old place. Ancient, really. It is documented to be over five hundred years old. Do you know how old that is, Ashley?”
“Older than Grandma?” She was awed.
I couldn’t stop the sudden spurt of laughter that escaped at her response. “Well, I don’t know about ‘older than Grandma,’” I joked. “But to answer your question truthfully, yes. Five hundred years old is definitely older than Grandma. There’s a very interesting story about the Cave of Shadows. Would you like to hear it?”
“Okay,” she nodded eagerly.
“Should I use the flashlight?” I switched the hand-held device on and held it under my chin the way I had seen her do with her friends when they told ghost stories before bed. “Five hundred years ago, an ancient high priest had a vision. And based on his vision, his dreams, really, the tribe’s elders forged a very special key. To this day, how they did it remains a mystery. But the fact is that the key was forged—created. They soon found that it led to a very magical place.”
“The place from the man’s dreams?”
“That’s right.” I nodded approvingly. “You catch on quick. Yes, the key led to the very place that the priest had seen in his vision. It was a magical place, full of strange and wonderful things. And although not all of them were good, there were wonders in this land beyond what anyone could ever have imagined.”
“So what happened to the priest?”
“No one knows. But at least one of them returned from the strange land and passed through the Cave of Shadows. And for five hundred hears, the story of the priest’s vision remained just that, a story. A legend really.”
“A legend is an old story, right?”
“More or less,” I acknowledged, impressed anew with her razor-sharp mind. “Anyway, the priest returned, and soon after they decided it was wrong of them to make special keys to special lands. So they buried the key deep in the earth.”
“Why was it wrong?” she asked with innocence that only a child could possess.
“Well now, that’s a hard question without a simple answer. Maybe it’s because they were afraid of change. Or maybe some people have a natural tendency to fear the unknown. Maybe it went against the religious code of the time. Heck, maybe they thought it just wasn’t a normal thing to do and that it would have scared people—and they would have probably been right in that assumption. But whatever their reasoning, the outcome remained the same. They buried the key, and for nearly five hundred years to the day, it remained hidden. Until the day your uncle Mike found it.”
“Did he find it at his job?”
“Yes. As a matter of fact, he did find it at his job. He was out on a site digging for his job. He was trying to find ancient artifacts for the museum so that scientists could study them and learn all they could from them, and so that people like you and me could come to the museum and learn about them as well. Artifacts from long ago people are very important pieces of our history, and we should learn all that we can from the special ones that are found.”
“Things that long ago people leave behind,” she helpfully supplied.
“Right. Things that the ancient people left behind. And that is when he found the key. Well, your uncle Mike, being the history buff that he is, remembered the story of the legend. He remembered hearing the story of the priest with the visions who had forged the key. So he read and he studied and he vowed to find the magical land. And do you know what? He did.”
“Did he go to it?”
“Yes, he did go to it. He passed through the Cave of Shadows and into the other land.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “He didn’t tell anyone where he was going, though, and I became very worried. So I found his books and papers and I figured out where he was going. I went there to try to find him,” I explained.
“You went to the magical land?” Ashley was awestruck.
“You bet. I did go to the magical land. And the most wonderful thing ever happened while I was there. Do you remember what that thing was?” I paused, peering through the darkness, trying to catch a better glimpse of her face in order to gauge her reaction. From what I would see, she looked confused. “I found you, Ashley,” I said quietly. “You came from the magic place. Do you remember that?”
“I really came from the magic place?”
“You most certainly did. And that is how I know it’s magical.”
“I don’t like the magic land.” Ashley hunkered down and whispered after a lengthy silence, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs.
“You remember it then?” I pressed on.
“A little.” The admission was followed by more silence.
“I see. You know…it’s not something that you and I ever talk about. But I would like to.”
“I didn’t know that the magic land is where I came from.”
“You did come from there, sweetheart. In fact, I’m pretty sure you were born there. You don’t remember anything about those days?” I queried, studying her face in the dim glow cast by the flashlight and a spattering of stars high above our heads.
She merely shrugged in response. I kept trying. “Do you remember anything at all about the magic place?”
“No, just the bad men,” she confided in a hushed tone.
“Like the bad men who came after us last night?”
“Yes, I guess so. But these bad men were different. They all wore the same clothes.”
“Uniforms.”
“They all had a funny drawing on the clothes. Right here.” She pointed to her right shoulder. “It was dark yellow and looked like a bun
ch of curly q’s and circles. I think.” She frowned. “Well, maybe I can’t remember.”
The Mark of Kahn. The mark of evil. I shivered in the thin night air. “Ashley, did the bad men ever hurt you? The bad men in the magic place.”
“No, not me.”
“Your mom and dad, then?”
“I guess my old mom and dad. I don’t really remember. I just remember the mean people.”
“You mean the men with the uniforms? The guards?”
“No, the mean people were friends with the bad people. They took me to them when I was little.
Well, I’m little now. But when I was really little.”
I cocked my head to the side and regarded her thoughtfully. It was the first time she had spoken of the “mean people,” whoever they had been. The people who ran the orphanage? I wondered. It was hard to say and doubtful I would ever find out for sure one way or the other, but it didn’t hurt to try.
“Ash, who were the mean people?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well…was it a woman and a man? Or a group of men?”
“A man and a lady. The bad men took me to them so they could take care of me.”
“What happened?” I leaned forward on the hard-packed ground, the flashlight forgotten as it hung limply from my fingers, brushing against my leg and plunging us into deeper shadow.
“They didn’t like me. They said I was bad,” she whispered.
“Was that who hurt you?”
“Yes. I had to sleep downstairs if I was bad. Or outside. I liked sleeping outside best because of my friend.”
“Friend?” I sat up, alarmed. “Was there another child with you?”
“No, a dog.”
“Oh.”
“I left the mean people and walked a long time. But I just remember it was dark. Then I saw you. Now you’re my mama.”
“Yes, I am.” I sniffed, raw emotion threatening to take over. “And I’m going to take very good care of you. Forever and always. You got that?”
“Okay, but why are we going to the magic place with the bad men if we are trying to get away from bad men?”
“Well…” I trailed off, struggling with the question. “I guess all I can say is…we’re going there because it can also be a safe place. There are some very important people there. Some very good people who can keep us safe and help us get rid of the bad men,” I explained.
“I’m still scared,” she admitted, not looking reassured in the least by my explanation and logic.
“I know you are, sweetie. Look at it this way. The magic place is just like anywhere else. There are good people and bad people.”
“And we’re gonna find the good people?”
“Yes.” I nodded and smiled for the first time that night, truly starting to believe that.
***
The remainder of our travel was smooth and blessedly uneventful. It was also remarkably fast. I alternated between carrying Ashley and letting her walk for the first five miles of the trip. The remaining ten miles was another story altogether. I chose to carry her piggy-back style since the ground was so hard and uneven, with roots jutting here and there. I didn’t feel that it was a good idea to let her try and navigate the rough terrain; she didn’t seem to mind the decision and merely clung quietly to my shoulders till we reached the cave. It loomed black and imposing in the distance and I forced myself to breathe normally as we came upon it.
I took the entrance that lay to the right, stopping to explain that the rest of the journey would be through the cave. That no matter what happened, we had to keep going. It was every bit as dismal and dank as I remembered it. But if nothing else, the trek through the cave went twice as fast as it had the first time around, and thank God for that. The thick spider webs that I had not been able to get out of my head for a year and a half still hung from the ceilings like a bad Halloween prop. Ashley paused and gasped upon seeing them, then promptly hid behind my legs. She had flatly refused to take another step, and it had taken a good five minutes for me to convince her that there were no giant spiders lurking about. I finally reminded her that should we happen to encounter any spiders, I still had my gun.
“So if we see a big spider, you can shoot it?” Her voice was tiny yet echoing in the cavernous space.
“That’s right.” I nodded, and we moved deeper into the cave. We reached the fork in the cave in under an hour, crouching down to fit through the small doorway that led to the long tunnel. It was the last leg of our journey, and the one most likely to cause us the greatest amount of discomfort. The passage was so low and narrow that the only way to pass through it was to crawl the two miles on all fours. I took the short length of nylon rope I had stowed in our pack and used it to fashion a tether that went from Ashley’s wrist to my ankle. She still had plenty of room to crawl freely behind me, yet would still be securely attached to me at all times.
Two hours later, we crawled through the opening and into the mountainous chamber that stood at the end of the tunnel. The doorway was directly in front of us, a simple hole surrounded by etchings. I felt the chill creep across my skin as I deftly steered Ashley around the crimson stain on the floor and approached the back wall of the cave. I closed my eyes and ran my fingers over the warning that was etched into the stone.
Long, harsh-looking lines had been carved into the rock in a circle formation. The carvings were so deep it looked as though the rock had been viciously slashed over and over again. A chill crept across my skin, refusing to be held at bay. There was a deep gash in the smooth center of the carving. Above that was a tiny picture. Someone had carved what looked to be a picture of a rudimentary, unadorned coffin.
There was a single long straight line above the coffin and a sun several inches above that. A representation of the ground, I assumed. A spiral cut through the line and into the coffin.
With a final glace around the rest of the cave, I took a deep breath and pulled the key from my bag.
Ashley stood close by, her eyes widening as she took in our less than homey surroundings. “Mom, what are all those lines and drawings all over the walls?”
“I don’t know,” I responded semi-truthfully. “I never did figure that out. Ancient writings of some sort, to be sure. As for what it says, I wish I knew. Okay, Ashley, I’m going to put this key in that lock and it’s going to take us to the magical land.”
I picked her up and settled her securely on my hip, instructing her to hold on tight. In one hand was the key; in the other, the gun was loaded and at the ready.
“Mama, are you scared?” Her face was pressed tight against my throat.
“No, of course not,” I immediately lied. There was no way I could have ever admitted to her that we were about to be transported and dumped into an unprotected area of Terlain. No way to tell her there might be guards waiting for us in that forest. Though, honestly, enough time had passed, I didn’t think they would be waiting for us. Still, I tightened my grip on the gun, took a deep breath, pressed the key into the stone, and turned.
The darkness engulfed us.
Chapter Six
Broken
We were on the forest floor. Much like the first time I had crossed the portal, I hadn’t a clue as to how much time had elapsed. And just like the time before, there was no way to know what waited to greet us in the woods. It was a disconcerting feeling to say the least.
“Ashley?” I whispered, attempting to gently rouse the child. She lay next to me on a blanket of pine needles, her tiny hand still clutching mine. Thick, dark lashes were motionless against her baby soft cheek.
“Ashley, you have to wake up now,” I continued to whisper, unwilling to disturb the relative silence of the forest that surrounded us. There was no breeze here. The tall trees with their golden leaves effectively blocked out both light and wind.
“Mama?”
“Yes, I’m here. Are you feeling okay?”
“I feel strange.”
“Strange how?” I asked, instantly al
armed.
“I just feel funny.”
“Do you feel sick? Are you in pain?”
“Maybe a little sick.” She clutched her midsection.
“Do you feel sick like you’re about to throw up, or sick like you’ve been riding an elevator?” I questioned.
“Elevator,” she said, then nodded. “A giant elevator.”
She was disoriented, I realized with some small degree of relief. The effects of crossing the portal were mostly the same for me both times. Still, I had been stressing over what the possible effects would be for Ashley. It was a relief to know she was largely unaffected.
“Do you think you can walk a little bit?”
“Yes.”
“Good girl.” I smiled and set about thoroughly surveying our surroundings. There was no one in sight. I was surprised and elated all at once. Perhaps Kahn’s guards had tired of guarding these forests.
Even better, maybe Kahn had been defeated and had taken his evil army with him. I doubted that very much, but it was still a comforting thought.
I raised the gun from my pack, motioning for Ashley to stay close to my side as we made our way through the woods. The cold steel served as a harsh reminder of the very real danger we could face. I still hated having to bring a gun on our journey. Guns didn’t exist in Terlain. Swords, knives, bow and arrow, and spears were the preferred weapons of choice for the people here. One false move and my weapon could fall into the wrong hands. I held in my hand the potential to change the entire course of history in Terlain.
I shuddered to think of any one of Kahn’s guards in possession of a firearm; the citizens of Terlain wouldn’t stand a chance. Kahn’s men were brutal enough without any outside help.
“Are there bad men here?” Ashley’s voice was barely audible.
“I don’t know, baby,” I answered in truth.
She promptly hid behind my denim-clad legs, apparently not finding my answer to be even the least bit reassuring. I didn’t blame her; the truth was all too often a harsh reality, but I considered it a necessary evil. Besides, I rationalized, recalling my brother’s words, it was better for Ashley to learn how to deal with problems, and telling her that danger didn’t exist wouldn’t accomplish anything. I had to admit that Mike was right on that point. She would only end up disappointed and, worse, unprepared when life’s inevitable mishaps fell upon her. Although, really, our situation was beyond unusual. Most people did not have to face and defend against repeated attempts on their life. Normal people didn’t, as a general rule, find themselves in alternate...what? Dimensions? Realms?