Doria Falls

by Michael Pierce

“Do you see anything?” Cassandra asked.

  “No.”

  I was glad I wasn’t the only one.

  The bigger clusters of vertically traveling sparks moved around the water. They seemed to be alive—with some type of invisible intelligence behind their movements. The spark cluster over the island grew brighter like it was being bathed in direct sunlight.

  A door appeared beside Nicholae and then another at the edge of the water. Nicholae looked perplexed. If he’d created both of them, then why had he placed them only a few feet apart?

  “Erik, you try,” Nicholae said. “I can’t transport a door to the island.” The two doors disappeared.

  Erik appeared to fall into a trance, and moments later, two more doors appeared, not much farther apart than the two previous ones—both of them on the rocky shore where we stood.

  “No, I can’t either. You want to give it a try?” Erik said to Cassandra.

  “I don’t see the point if you two can’t do it,” she replied.

  I bent down next to Logan’s lying body. He was breathing. I checked his pulse and it appeared to be strong. But he continued to sleep soundly. I nudged him, lightly at first, then shook him violently—both attempts to no avail.

  “What can we do about them?” I asked to anyone listening.

  “Are they all right?” Cassandra asked.

  “Logan seems to be. I haven’t checked the others.”

  “Let’s prop them against the wall,” Erik said. He approached the three fallen members of his team, checked their vitals, and dragged them one by one to the closest wall of the cave.

  I grabbed Logan under the armpits, heaved him into a seated position, and dragged him to the others. He was a lot heavier than I would have imagined, or I was just weaker than I wanted to admit to myself.

  When I turned back to see what progress Nicholae was making with the doors, I saw him take a step onto the surface of the water like it was frozen over. The moment his foot touched the water, a column of blue flames not much larger than his foot shot up ten feet in the air like a pyrotechnics stunt. He retracted his foot immediately and fell back onto the shore.

  His pant leg, as well as a few other spots on this body, was on fire. The articles of clothing engulfed by the blue flames wilted, broke apart, and fell away. Yelling obscenities, Nicholae rolled on the ground and slapped at his burning leg, which was finally extinguished and left him looking like a blown-out candle. Dark plumbs of smoke rose from numerous burn marks to his clothing and skin. But his skin was already healing.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, rushing over, not that I could really help.

  “What was that?” Cassandra asked, gazing down at the water, which had returned to normal.

  Nicholae rose to his feet, brushing off crispy flakes, and cracking his back and neck.

  “That’ll wake you up,” he said.

  “Or kill you,” I said. “What else do we have to watch out for?”

  “There’s only one way to find out.” Nicholae turned to Erik. “I take it you didn’t test the water last time.”

  Erik glanced sheepishly at Cassandra and shook his head. “If I did, I would have warned you.”

  “That would have been nice.” Nicholae stepped to the edge of the water for the second time and stopped.

  I broke into a sweat just watching him, waiting for him to be set ablaze again. I figured he could handle the fire, but what other dormant dangers awaited him out there?

  Nicholae charged into the water, his feet remaining on the surface like it was just a solid extension of the shore, taking long strides to get across as fast as possible. More pillars of blue flame erupted with each footfall connecting with the glassy surface of the underground pool. But he seemed no longer affected by the searing heat. His clothes continued to burn, but he appeared to be beyond the fire’s reach.

  It took less than ten seconds for him to leap back on shore, onto the small island amidst the downpour of silver sparks. The flames still on his person dissipated and died, leaving a good portion of his clothes in ashes.

  “Great job,” Erik shouted. “Now what?”

  Nicholae shrugged and paced around the deserted isle. It was merely a mound of rock like the shore we were still confined to—nothing more.

  “It has to be here,” Nicholae said. “Do you see anything? Has anything in the cave changed?”

  “Yes,” replied a familiar voice, but one not from our group. “You just ran out of time.”

  I spun around to find Kafka standing at the exit of the tunnel. As he strolled into the cavern, a few more Lornes poured in from behind him, three of whom I recognized immediately—Malakye, Lazarus, and Alexandria.

  “Hello, Oliver,” Alexandria said in her beautiful, soothing voice. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

  Oliver Remembers (vi)

  What had been a meadow surrounded by trees became a metropolitan oasis surrounded by skyscrapers stretching so far into the air that the tops of them disappeared into the clouds. They were gargantuan pillars of metal and glass, shining different shades of red and blue. A pulsating glow emanated from the buildings, and exterior glass elevators zipped up and down.

  We appeared on a busy sidewalk. We were passed in all directions, but no one stopped to marvel at the group that had just materialized out of thin air, like we had been here all along. The sounds of this new place steadily gained in volume until I was completely enveloped by the busy city life.

  Mom, Jeremy, and I stopped in the middle of the glistening, oversized sidewalk that separated two rows of towering edifices. Ahead of us was a road where dark angular cars with no wheels raced by, gliding elegantly a few inches off the ground. I had no idea what I was seeing back then. Logan had tried to describe the city, but he couldn’t paint the picture I saw before me.

  “Where are we?” Mom asked.

  “Provex City,” Nicholae said.

  “This is like no place I’ve ever seen.”

  “We are on a new plane of consciousness that alters the reality of everyone on it.”

  Mom looked at him blankly.

  “There isn’t time to explain. Let’s get out of all this commotion.”

  “Is this where we’ll be safe?”

  Nicholae surveyed the nearby area and led us to a bench by one of the blue buildings. The bench was encircled by young trees. Nicholae instructed Jeremy and me to take a seat, leaving us with Mr. Gordon while he took Mom aside.

  They spoke for a few minutes and then I saw Nicholae reach into his pocket and pull out a small jewel-adorned wooden box. He slid the cover to open it.

  Mom took a step away from him in noticeable alarm.

  “Why are you giving this to me?” she asked, speaking loudly over the city noise.

  Mom looked more distressed then I’d ever seen her. I hopped off the bench and approached, despite Mr. Gordon’s objections. He grabbed for my arm, but I wiggled free.

  “Where you’re going, you’ll be safe. But the boys are young, confused, and could be easily influenced. I believe it would be better if they didn’t know they were in hiding—being hunted. They can live through this dangerous time in blissful ignorance and, when the time is right, they can relearn about their past. I don’t want one of them to wander off and try to reunite the family too soon, while it’s not––” Nicholae lost his train of thought when he noticed me standing beside them.

  “What do you mean reunite the family? We will all be together, hiding or no hiding; we will stick together. Won’t we?” Mom’s voice cracked on her final few words.

  Nicholae slid the lid of the box closed before I could see what was inside and placed it delicately in her hand.

  “Oliver, please give us a minute,” Nicholae said, trying to usher me along.

  Mom snatched my hand before I could leave and pulled me next to her. “No, Oliver, it’s okay.” She kissed the top of my head and turned her attention back to their adult conversation. “Won’t we be together?”

  “I love
you so much,” Nicholae said.

  “But why aren’t you coming with us? How can you be so sure we’ll be safe?”

  “You’re not coming with us?” I asked.

  “I’m leaving you in good hands.” He looked back at Mr. Gordon, with only Jeremy left to entertain.

  “Why aren’t you coming with us?”

  “I can’t; I’m sorry. I can’t go where you’re going, but neither can Kafka. It’s a boundary neither of us can cross. So you’ll be safe, and I’ll take care of things back home.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s so different about where we’re going?” Mom asked.

  “There isn’t time to explain. I regret I didn’t take the time to earlier. You must understand, this is the only way I know you’ll be safe.” Nicholae looked deep into her eyes and ran the tips of his fingers down her cheek.

  “Do you want me to forget about you?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to take the pill?”

  “What pill?” I asked, but it was like I wasn’t even there anymore.

  “I don’t want you to,” Nicholae said. “But if too much time passes, then I would understand. I don’t know how long this will take and I don’t want you to spend the best years of your life waiting for me.” Nicholae cleared his throat and wiped the sides of his mouth with his palm. “I want you to know how much I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” Mom took a hand from off my shoulder and leaned in to kiss him. She nestled her body into his chest, and he wrapped his arms protectively around her.

  I hugged the legs of both of them, determined to keep us together forever. Nicholae wasn’t going to leave us in this city like Cornelius had done to Logan.

  “You must go,” Nicholae finally said, breaking our three-way hug.

  Mom took a slight step back, revealing tear-stricken cheeks that she quickly wiped away with her baggy sleeves. “Nicholae, where’s your daediem?”

  Nicholae didn’t answer. “We are not going to say goodbye. Believe that we will see each other soon.” He forced a smile and tousled my hair.

  Mom slipped the small box in a pocket within the folds of her skirt and we both followed Nicholae back to the bench where Mr. Gordon and Jeremy still sat.

  Birds chirped wildly in the young trees overhead, and the sun snuck a peek through the ivory clouds, shining down on us like a heavenly spotlight.

  I took back my seat next to Jeremy.

  Nicholae placed a hand on each of our knees and cleared his throat before speaking. “I can’t go the rest of the way, but your mother and Daniel will be there for you. Behave yourselves and I promise I will see you both soon.” He shifted his gaze up to Mr. Gordon. “My friend, thank you again.”

  He rose to shake Mr. Gordon’s hand while Mom stood off to the side, disconnected from the rest of the group. I saw her shaking her head in discontent and realized her voice had returned with its own special kind of advice—just like Nero had done for me.

  “Time to leave,” Nicholae said. He bent down and gave us each a quick hug. He firmly shook Mr. Gordon’s hand again. And he gave Mom one last embrace.

  Mr. Gordon gathered everyone together and was just about to transition with all of us until I broke away from the human chain.

  I scampered back to my father.

  “Oliver, what are you doing? You need to go,” Nicholae said, as he dropped to one knee and welcomed me with outstretched arms.

  I hugged him and clumsily took off my backpack, pulled out the stuffed animal dog, and handed it to him.

  “Here, Daddy. Frolics will protect you,” I said, and with that, I jumped up and returned to the others.

  Daniel instructed us to close our eyes, and when I reopened them, the city was gone—as was Nicholae.

  17

  Guardian

  There were three of us on the shore, with Nicholae on the illuminated island. Kafka had six other Lornes with him—or at least I believed they were Lornes since they all remained standing. I could see a wolf-head tattoo on one of the blonde women I didn’t recognize since she wore a ribbed black corset and black pants so tight they nearly looked painted on. The woman to her left had to be her identical twin—her exact mirror image—and not in the new sense of the word I’d been introduced to in the asylum, but in the traditional sense. The man standing next to Alexandria was also someone I had never seen before. He had short hair slicked to one side, a pencil-thin beard, and a rock-hard physique.

  “You’re not getting this guardian,” Nicholae shouted from the island. “You’re too late.”

  “No, Nicholae,” Kafka said. “We’re right on time. I’m here to destroy this guardian, and I will destroy this guardian, regardless of anything you can say or do. After all this time, are you so delusional as to think that you can stop me one-on-one?”

  “This has to end now! Nothing else matters.”

  “I agree.” Kafka smiled at me and then turned to face Nicholae, standing at the edge of the shore. “This will end now. I will remove this guardian like I’ve done to the previous three, giving birth to a whole new Acanombia.”

  “No,” I said. I meant for it to come out like a battle cry, but it ended up escaping my lips as nothing more than a croak. Nevertheless, my arms shot up, weapon in hand, pointed directly at Kafka’s head.

  He laughed when he saw my barrel aimed at him, abandoned his spot by the shore, and took a few steps in my direction. Kafka didn’t even seem to be carrying a gun, only some kind of ornate dagger sheathed at his hip.

  “Put down the gun,” Erik said to me.

  Cassandra walked behind me to take a position on my right side.

  “I’m right here,” Kafka said. He held his arms out, daring me to shoot him. “I’m sure you’ve dreamed about this moment for months. Here’s your chance.”

  I remembered our confrontation on the top of Lorne Tower and it was still so strange looking at the boy before me and picturing him as the man that had haunted my dreams for so long. The voice was the same. The eyes were the same. If I could get past what my eyes registered, then I could recognize him for the bogeyman he truly was.

  The gun quickly grew heavy in my hands and as I went to squeeze the trigger, the pistol was pulled from my sweaty grip by an unseen force. The weapon sailed through the air, straight for Kafka—but before it reached his hand, I used all the force I could summon to pull it back.

  I knew I could do it, no matter who did the pulling on the opposite side.

  The pistol boomeranged back to me and I pulled the trigger as soon as my finger slipped into the trigger guard. The crack of the gunshot rang throughout the cavern.

  Kafka remained standing without a wound, but in the last second before pulling the trigger, I had adjusted my aim and took a shot at Alexandria, standing behind Kafka to his left. The bullet soared straight through her stomach—through her in the way that left a hole and produced a lot of blood. She had been standing about twenty feet away and I had been aiming for her head, but I was no expert marksman. She wasn’t going to die, but she was knocked off her feet, which still gave me a small sense of satisfaction.

  She gasped and writhed on her side, her eyes wide in disbelief, one hand covering the entrance wound. Blood seeped through her fingers, trickling down the side of her form-fitting black shirt.

  “Not prepared for that one?” I said, thankful my bullet wasn’t completely wasted. “That was for Anna!”

  The blonde twins ran to her side and helped her back up, the flow of blood already plugged. The expression on her face quickly transitioned from shock to rage.

  “Rather impressive, Oliver,” Kafka said, slowly clapping his hands. He walked right up to me and placed a hand on the top of my gun, which was now pointed back at him.

  I tried to pull the trigger, knowing it wouldn’t produce the outcome I’d want, but the trigger wouldn’t even depress. It was stuck. I pressed so hard it felt like the metal was going to cut through my finger, but it still didn’t budge.


  Kafka plucked the useless weapon from my weakening grasp.

  “This is not a toy,” Kafka said condescendingly. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt someone else, or yourself.” He collected Erik’s and Cassandra’s guns as well, and tossed them all into the lake. Small bursts of blue flames ignited where each gun hit the water.

  “You’re mine, you little shit,” Alexandria roared.

  “For now,” Kafka said. “I’ll let you have some fun, but the deathblow comes from me. Do you understand?” His gaze was hard on Alexandria, who nodded in compliance.

  “I want him back in my hospital,” she said. “I want to test out some new toys.”

  Nicholae was standing at the edge of the island, hands up like they were pressed against glass.

  “Nicholae, are you stuck out there?” Kafka asked.

  “This is between you and me,” he said.

  “It has been for quite some time, but these are not innocent bystanders—not that innocent bystanders have stopped me in the past.”

  Two hands clamped down on my arms from behind like vices.

  “No one escapes from me,” Alexandria said menacingly into my ear.

  But I knew better.

  The other Lornes were on Erik and Cassandra in a flash. Once the fight broke out, they were all a blur of bodies and limbs, punching, kicking, falling, leaping.

  Besides Alexandria, Lazarus was the only one who didn’t rush into battle. He sauntered up to Kafka, who quietly exchanged a few words. Kafka clapped him on the shoulder and stepped out onto the water. Blue flames shot up from the surface with each footstep, but Kafka moved across the water unfazed. Lazarus seemed to have been left in charge.

  Alexandria’s nails dug into my skin like talons.

  “You get to witness the end of your pathetic little rebellion before I take you back to my hospital to live out the rest of your short life in constant pain. I’ll find a way to rip that daediem right out of your body. It’s never been done before. You’ll be the first—the guinea pig. I’ll open you up and look inside, look all around until I find him.”