by Kali Willows
“Welcome to the conduit to the Elysian Fields.” Cemil approached the cart and greeted them.
“This is so beautiful,” she whispered with astonishment.
Trinity climbed out of the vehicle and followed Cemil into the lush purple flowers. As they walked through the field of feathery lavender, she drew in the most delectable floral aroma. Some of the trees farther behind the cedar and oak were twisted and knotty with massive trunks, widths that would take four people to surround with joined hands to encircle. Magnificent blossoms of pink and red filled them. Trinity wandered away from her guide and inspected one closer. “These flowers look like baby dragons?”
“They’re Dracaena Cinnabari, or better known as ancient Dragon’s Blood Trees. See the red sap that has dripped down the trunks?” The Rowan brother pointed.
“Yes.” Trinity ran her finger over the sticky substance and sniffed the residue. The heady scent was a cross between a spicy lavender and fruity pine. She drew in another exhilarating inhale. “It’s divine.”
“The resin is used for medicine, incense, candles, and it’s a powerful boost for any work with magic. This is Sarka and her coven’s personal stash.” Cemil grinned. “But don’t tell her I said so.”
Trinity glanced up at the monstrous umbrella shape of branches and leaves overhead. “The blossoms are exquisite.”
“They’re indigenous only to conduits that lead to the Elysian Fields. It’s a telltale sign you’re near a magical realm. Other places in the world where you would find Dragon’s Blood trees, you’d never see these blossoms. They possess a magical essence which permeates the air and makes it viable to open the conduit to the Underworld.”
The soft chirp of crickets sounded then, and, above, gentle notes of birds singing lulled her sense of worry. “I never knew that was possible?”
“It’s one of our secret healing prospects on the island. Only to be used in dire situations where more traditional treatments don’t help resolve the grief of losing loved ones.”
“I’ve heard some myths of the Elysian Fields but never about what they really are.” She glanced at her guide, hoping he’d elaborate.
“It’s the final resting place of souls, for both the heroic and the virtuous.”
Trinity’s chest tightened, and her breath hitched.
“What’s wrong?” Cemil cocked his head.
“My mother won’t be here.”
“Why do you think that?”
“She murdered my father and committed suicide. That annihilated any virtue she may have had.” Anger churned in her belly.
Cemil offered a tender smile. “I’m sure the Fates would have a different view, given the Furies manipulated her, as they do with you now. I don’t see you as any less virtuous. You’re still kind, caring, and compassionate to others.”
His words almost held enough power to sway her train of thought, but the fear and doubt still enveloped her.
A low growl echoed to the left of them, in the depth of the trees. She caught a glimpse of a black shadow darting past some trees. Trinity swallowed hard against the lump in her throat.
“It’s okay. It’s Rekkus, and he’s securing the parameter to make sure we’re all safe.” Arawn cupped the nape of her neck and gently rubbed her locked muscles.
“You’re sure?”
“Look, see right there?” He pointed in the direction of a few trees from where she had fixed her stare.
Trinity followed the point of his finger to find a magnificent black tiger strolling out into the open, a majestic and extremely large were-cat. The protector gave a fierce roar, lifted his nose, and sniffed the air. He then let out a grunt and jetted back toward the tree line.
“All clear, according to the boss man.” Kane chuckled.
“My apologies for any distress you suffered last night. Our young guest, Brody….” Cemil began to walk again, farther into the forest.
“Had a nightmare. I heard.” Trinity held her hands open and continued to follow him. The lavender flowers tickled her palms as she walked. The contact of her skin to the flowers released a sweet aroma that cloaked her with a sense of calm. “I can appreciate how he feels.”
“I would have spent more time with you this week, to help sort out all of this sooner. He’s had a difficult adjustment the past few months.”
“Why?” Her curiosity piqued, or perhaps her inner therapist had finally reared its forgotten tendencies.
“I’m not permitted to disclose other guests’ private information.”
“Pardon me. I should know better.” In her profession, it was the first rule when you treated any client.
“I can say,” he offered, “any teen with emerging gifts, coupled with a recent loss, is bound to struggle.” Cemil glanced back and winked.
“Gotcha.” She nodded. “Where is he now?”
“He’s taking a nap back at the barracks. We needed to keep him away from the Haus while he gets things under control, but last night, he didn’t sleep well.”
Technically, Cemil didn’t breach confidentiality. He offered a generic statement about milestones and the obstacles they bring. Every teen, both para and human alike, faced similar challenges with hormonal shifts, but throw in new talents to contend with and, well, that in itself, was a mind-fuck for them, and the people around them.
They arrived at a cluster of five massive oak trees, and Cemil stepped to the side. Trinity approached and stared at the circular base of the trees, where a deep pool of teal water lay. The circumference of the water could easily fit three people like a luxurious hot tub.
“What is this?” She bent over and inspected it with fascination. A steam of pungent sweetness rushed over her face. “This smell is familiar, but I can’t place it.”
“Heather is a magical herb and assists in opening portals to the Underworld realm. Juniper is a protective herb that will intoxicate spirits into becoming visible, as well as increase your ability to see them. It’s what makes the transition into the realm successful.”
Trinity moved her hand above the water, tempted to dip her fingers in it.
Cemil gripped her wrist and prompted her back. “I wouldn’t advise sticking your fingers in there.”
“Why not?” She stood to face him.
“This is the cauldron for the conduit. It’s magical, but there are only a few paras who can touch it. Those who can are essentially the key to unlock the door to the Underworld.”
“And those who can’t?”
“Consider it the extreme security system. Any unwanted visitors who touch or try to enter will perish.”
“Perish as in…?”
“Spontaneously combust. Some have been said to be quite a spectacular fireworks display.” Cemil pressed his lips tight.
“Burst into flames?” She plastered her palms to the sides of her thighs and forced a swallow.
“Arawn,” Cemil continued, “I need your help to open the conduit, and then you both have to wait here with me.”
“We’re going with her.” Kane wrapped his arm around her shoulder in a show of protection.
“I’m afraid that’s not possible, big guy.” Cemil shook his head. “Only the blood descendent or the grief-stricken can enter for the purpose of healing and closure.”
“But her safety?” Kane challenged. Trinity glanced up to catch his cheeks burn red. “She’s in danger. We have to protect her.”
“It’s part of the agreement we made with Hades, so we can have this access to the Underworld, solely for the purpose to send those in dire need to the Elysian Fields. This is the first time we’ve actually had cause to use this in all our time here on the island. It’s non-negotiable. If we break the rules, the conduit will be closed to us forever.”
“First time?” Trinity recoiled with fright. “I’m a guinea pig?”
“Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.” Cemil winked.
Arawn patted Kane on the shoulder. “No one else can ente
r, not even the Furies. She’ll be safe in there. It’s out here that she is vulnerable to attack.”
Kane held her close and kissed her forehead. “We’ll be right here.”
Trinity bit her lip. Nerves clawed at her insides as panic surfaced. She forced her breathing to slow in a vain attempt to ease her rapid pulse thrumming behind her ears. “Will it hurt?”
“No.” Arawn shook his head. “It’s kind of like floating in a blissful daydream, only the mental clarity is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced.”
“What should I say?” She shook her head and looked to Cemil, her mind racing with fear and confusion.
“Whatever feels right at the time. There is no way to prepare to see a loved one who has passed.” The fair-haired Rowan brother knitted his brows. “This journey is about finding peace. Whatever is needed to help you achieve closure will naturally unfold. Trust in the gods.”
“Easy for you to say. You’re not on a para hit list,” she mumbled.
“Actually, we are.”
Chapter Sixteen
Trinity watched as Arawn knelt at the base of the cauldron. He closed his eyes and held his palms above the pool of water.
“Why is Arawn able to do this?” she whispered to Kane.
“One of his talents is the control over magical cauldrons. In the Underworld, he has the power to restore youth and healing from his father’s cauldron to those deemed worthy.”
“Has he ever done this before?” Steam intensified and the water began to swirl like a whirlpool.
“Not here, no.”
“What if he gets…?” She reached out for him. “Stop!”
“It’s okay,” Cemil assured her.
Trinity hugged herself tight as she watched. Beads of perspiration streamed down her immortal’s temples, and he rocked back and forth, keeping his eyes clenched shut. His breathing increased. He crinkled his sweat-soaked forehead, and his outreached hands shook as the force of the swirling water intensified. Arawn’s face flushed dark red, and he rasped, “It’s time, go now, Trinity.” He maintained his concentration. The velocity of the water accelerated, the swirl in the pool deepened, and the center lowered into a hole.
“How?” She shook her head, terrified to move.
“Jump,” Cemil called over the gusts of wind encircling them. “It won’t hurt, I promise you.” He gripped her shoulders and guided her to stand on the curved tree truck in front of her. “Feet first. Hurry. He can’t hold this for long.”
Trinity glanced back to her gargoyle to find a forced smile. “It’s okay, darlin’,” he hollered over the noise of the conduit. “We’ll be right here, waiting for you.”
With that, Trinity squeezed her eyes shut and jumped into the hollowed water turnstile. Her stomach bottomed out as she fell hard and fast. She opened her eyes to find her plummet swift and unyielding. She couldn’t fix her sights on anything as it zoomed past. Dark soil and rock soon transformed to vivid red. Swirls of bright light and orange glows mixed and tightened around her. It quickly encased her like a billowy blanket and slowed her speed. Within seconds, she caught glimpses of tree tops and greenery below. The energy field of warmth and safety brought her to the grassy surface with a gentle touchdown, and she landed on her feet.
As quickly as she dropped, the energy field retreated upward and then evaporated. She glanced around and steadied her wobbly knees as her stomach churned from the warp-speed descent. Trinity took in her surroundings—a perfect extension of the exquisite conduit she had just wandered through. The Elysian Fields held the identical Dragon’s Blood trees with dragon blossoms, a majestic forest of green blanketed with the very same sensational floral carpet of tall lavender swaying in the gentle breeze. High up, among sporadic clouds, shone the vibrant sun, just like the surface above. The only difference was, she was alone, and for the first time in days, completely free of fear, panic, and dread. Calm and serenity washed over every muscle.
Beside her stood the same cluster of trees with the pool of water at the base. Only the water glowed a shimmering gold, not teal. Steam rose and encircled a translucent form. Trinity fixed her gaze on the shifting image materializing before her. A man stood tall, more than a foot taller than her immortal and gargoyle. A dark, brooding man with piercing sea-green eyes and long ebony hair cascading over his broad shoulders stepped away from the cauldron. Draped in a regal toga of white with bronze embroidery and a three-point crown of shiny black onyx, he had the noble presence of an ancient Greek god.
“Who are you?” Her voice was but a whisper.
“I am Hades, son of Cronus, Ruler of the Dead and Keeper of the Elysian Fields.” This being held no hint of humor or hospitality, instead, he presented a stern glare. In his left hand, he held a tall wooden scepter with dark crystals pointing out of the top,
“By the gods….” She dropped to her knees and bowed.
“Your worship is not necessary here. You have a special request?”
“I-I need….” Her lip quivered, the words wouldn’t come out.
“You need closure with your loved ones. Yours is a difficult situation?”
“It is.” She clambered to her feet and dipped her chin.
“There is no need for shame or humility. Cast your eyes upon me, Trinity.”
She snapped her head up with shock. “You know who I am?”
“I do. We have been expecting you.” He waved his hand toward the tree line.
“We?”
“There is not much time. This is the land of the dead, not the living. Complete your business and you must be gone soon.”
Trinity followed the direction of his hand to find a familiar figure approaching in the distant field.
She glanced back to Hades, but he had vanished.
“Trinity,” the voice she knew from her childhood called out. He stepped into the sunlight.
“Daddy?”
Dressed in a similar but less impressive toga, he stood with his long white hair cascading down his back. She traipsed through the flowers to reach him, the urgent need to race into his outreached arms growing with each step. Halting just a few feet away from him, shock washed over her at the virile image of her father. He stood before her, young and healthy, the radiance of his pale skin contrasted against his glistening azure eyes. A single tear spilled down his cheek. The final memory she had of him encased a bloody massacre she’d never recovered from.
“My sweet baby girl,” he whimpered and scooped her up into a warm hug. “By the gods, how I’ve missed you.”
Trinity sank into his embrace. She clutched him tight as relief and joy radiated in her chest. “You’re all right.”
“Of course I am. This is a place of peace, free from harm and sadness.” He released her and stepped back, studying her from head to toe, beaming with paternal pride. “You have grown into a beautiful woman, with such a pure heart and soul. I’m so very proud of you.”
Trinity dropped her gaze to the ground. She folded her hands in front of her as guilt permeated her brain.
“What is it, sweetheart?” Her father cupped her cheek.
“The night I cried for your death….”
“Listen to me, baby.” He prompted her by the chin to meet his adoring gaze. “You were only six. You had no way to know what it meant. I am so sorry for the burden it has placed on you for all these years.”
Sorrow and doubt flooded her chest. “Could I have saved you, Daddy?”
“No, you couldn’t have. The banshee wail is never intended to save but to provide warning so people can bid farewell to their loved ones.”
“Is that why you sent me away with Uncle Conner?”
“Yes. To lose both parents at such a young age was a travesty in itself, but to have been witness to it, I couldn’t bear to have you endure that.” He shook his head and more tears spilled down his face.
“But I did.” The resentment she had carried all these years still festered in her gut, layered wit
h sorrow and dread.
“I know, my darling. It wasn’t my wish for you, but the Fates have wisdoms far beyond what we are able to see.” He swiped away the wetness and sucked in a deep breath. “They have a grand plan for all, and part of your destiny was to see and to be protected.”
“Why?” Tears stung her eyes. “Tell me the purpose of Mother…doing that to you. How could she? You loved her so.” Trinity sobbed.
“All of your questions will be answered, but know this right now.” He held her face between his heated palms. “We both love you. The anger and the hatred you harbor because of your grief has weakened you and makes you vulnerable. At this very moment, you are in danger.”
“With the Furies, I know, Father.”
“The danger lies beyond the Furies, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?” She cupped her hand against his and nuzzled his palm, relishing the contact she had longed for.
“There is much to share, but the story is not all mine to tell.” He glanced over his shoulder, where another man with short, blond hair and dark-blue eyes stood. “Time is short, and we have much to resolve before you must leave.”
“Uncle Connor?” Had she been responsible for his death? She stepped back with angst.
“Fear not, Trinity.” Connor approached and flashed the gentle smile she remembered and always took solace in.
Connor appeared very much like her father did—young, radiant, and so much at peace. Not at all what she’d expected from her very last memory of him. The brutality of blood and gore, the pain and suffering he had to have endured before he finally died.
“Uncle, I’m so….” She whimpered and broke into tears. “I’m so sorry.”
Connor collected her in his strong arms and hushed her. “You had nothing to do with it, sweet Trinity.”
She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I didn’t do this to you?” She pulled back, swiping her tears away with the back of her hand.