Storm Tamer, The

by M. Garnet

  The cream that the cook had left was just in a small bowl with a lid and smelled a bit off, but it felt good to the burn on her left foot. During the shower, she discovered many burns. Sparks had hit her shoulders, her arms and back, and even her legs and the cream eased away any pain.

  Deciding there had to be some pain relief within the lotion; she hoped it also had some medicinal products that would help heal the burns.

  Sitting now on her bed in the large warm robe and feeling the work done to make these gloves, her thoughts were not on her burns or the storm and not even the unbelievably enormous eruption she had witnessed.

  It was on the kiss.

  It was in the mint taste of his mouth and the feel of that lower lip. It was the heat that it now brought to her body as she ran her tongue over her own lower lip.

  Was this whole thing some kind of magic show? As a modern woman, she didn't believe in the old type of magic with witches and some type of hokum. On the other hand, she knew there was a whole world of modern magicians who created theatrics that fooled large audiences.

  It led her back to hypnosis, but it added illusions. So hunting out her notebook, she added #5 Eruption and then on the next page she put Hypnosis and Illusions.

  Letting out a sigh she decided these notes weren't helping her…they were just getting her deeper into a mystery and confusing the issue.

  What exactly did she know? Rahm Maaker was an unbelievable beautiful man who seemed to be in the middle of ugly rainstorms. He seemed to be able to instantly take her from one situation to another. Was that real or an illusion or hypnosis?

  As a woman who watched the Science Channel and others like it she found it hard to believe that it was real. She found Dr. Kahn didn't make sense and the other guy who also believed in dimensions didn't believe in a lot of different ones, only a couple.

  She went back to the word Dimensions and underlined it. If there were multiple dimensions, how did you get from one to the other? This was stupid.

  An illusion or hypnosis made more sense, yet why would he choose her to perpetrate such an act? Why the kiss?

  Shit, she was back to that kiss, and she was licking her lower lip. She had to make some kind of plan and get away from him. She began to wonder what would happen if she didn't return from one of the illusions?

  Well, she wouldn't want to stay on the side of a volcano with the sea rising or on a hill. On the other hand moving down the hill in a land where there were men on horses, a woman might be able to survive.

  Besides, Margo only wanted to survive long enough for the illusion to come to an end. Her hope was that she would wake up in the middle of her Florida street with a rainstorm and nothing more to threaten her or her dog.

  The idea would be she would not resist him when it was time to do what he did in storms and when she found one that she thought she would survive, she would escape away from him into that situation.

  The next couple of days were nerve wracking for Margo. There was rain, but not a heavy thunderstorm with the lightning that called Rahm to the front door where she waited.

  Finally, while eating lunch in the dining room since the thin cook wouldn't let her eat in the kitchen, the house shook from the noise of thunder and lightning. Margo left her food and walked slowly to find his dark outline at the front door.

  Taking a deep breath, she was ready. On a table in the hallway was the backpack. She grabbed it, put her arms into the straps, and went to him.

  There was no kiss and no comment, as he grabbed her wrist and they were on another mountain, watching what looked like rockslides moving down from each tall wall in all directions. The ground shook not only from the storm but from the earthquake that was bringing these mountains down.

  Rahm pushed her back to the rocks that were the sheared off portion of this mountain, and he stood out on the edge of the cliff and raised his arms. He looked like a god with the wind whipping his hair and his long coat flying out around his legs that were spread wide.

  Between the sounds of the earthquake, the lightning and thunder, she covered her ears to mute the sounds blasting and shaking her and the rock cliff she stood against. She knew this couldn't be real, but she was still wondering how this amazing male could use a storm to stop the earth from shaking itself apart.

  With the noise and the storm and the fear of the earthquake, Margo huddled down with her hands over her ears and eyes closed as dust and stones pelted her in all directions. The rain was blowing in the wind, but small pebbles like sand were abrading her skin. She pulled her shirt up trying to be a turtle.

  The thunder and noise kept getting louder and the ledge they were on shook again and again. Margo hid within her shirt and decided that this was not working for Rahm when suddenly it was quiet.

  Her ears rang from the silence, and she started to pull her shirt down, just as Rahm clutched her wrist. They were on his front step just outside the door with a quiet rain falling on the trees in the valley. She was still down with her heels on her butt and had only her eyes up above her shirt collar.

  Rahm had one of her hands and arms above her head that he let go immediately and in his usual manner…left wet footsteps in his dark hallway.

  Falling back against the open door on one side, she stretched out her legs and pulled her shirt into place. She wondered if that was an allusion and who could create such an apparition?

  Although he had retired up the stairs with vigor, Margo had to use the banister to help her slowly up to her room. These nightmare situations that he was perpetrating on her were taking away her strength.

  Margo decided she needed the Vitamin D from Florida's sunshine. She needed away from this gloomy dark manor house built into a mountain.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Margo had two days to rest up, to walk on the gravel path in the cooler weather with the sun, and to eat the good food the two cooks produced in the old-fashioned kitchen.

  Adding #6 Earthquake in her notebook, she went back to Illusions and decided to do some research. The dictionary was no help, but in Kahn's secret admirer's book, there were references to illusions that might tie into the other dimension that had happened when the big bang had first happened. This guy was nuts.

  Finally, toward the end of the second day, she heard thunder and saw lightning through her window. She pulled on her boots, grabbed her heavier jacket, and jumped from step to step down to the hallway.

  There she grabbed her restocked backpack and holding out her arm ran out to Rahm who stood just outside the front double doors.

  Turning, those amazing black eyes looked from her face to her arm. "What are you doing?"

  Hearing his voice, Margo decided it was as dark as his eyes. She liked the sea blue eyes better, but she didn't think he would appreciate hearing her opinion right now.

  "You can't go where you want to go without me, can you? So here I am." Margo waved her hand in front of his straight patrician nose. If at least once someone had broken that proboscis and taken a hint of his beauty away, she would be able to stare him down. Instead, she looked at her hand, pushing it closer to his face.

  "Stop that." He ordered, but he grabbed her hand, and they were on the side of a hill in a violent storm. Rahm threw her hand away from him and turned into the tempest.

  Standing in the wind and rain, she watched Rahm take his usual position with his arms up to the clouds and the lightning. He looked like the God of all that he could behold with his legs apart; his black hair pushed away from his face and his long coat spreading like a cloak.

  Still standing, Margo began to look around. This was a prepossessing scene. They were on a taller hill with a valley below and many more hills to be seen in the distance. Everything was covered with tall green trees, but very little undergrowth.

  Finally, she saw the shadows of men on foot moving in amongst the forest. Some seemed to be dressed in black, and some were in dark green. Because of their colors and the fact that they were covered from head to toe, she only caught sig
ht of them in flashes of bright seconds from the lightning. It was like stop motion camera action.

  Something moved off to her side, and she thought one of the people in disguise was close, but it was a deer running away through the trees.

  Within the stop motion action, she watched a couple of groups fighting. They were using swords and knives and even with the thunder she heard no gunfire. It was what she was waiting for, a place to hide with the possibility of food and water besides what she had in her backpack. It was a natural place that wasn't going to kill her faster that life.

  Fighting the wind and the rain and ignoring the thunder and lightning, she turned and ran. She headed around the slope of the hill into the trees and found the spread of the tops began to protect her from some of the beating water. The underbrush was in clumps near the base of large trees, yet most of the area was clear with heavy grass bending downward from the wind and rain.

  With the heavy clouds and under the trees it was as dark as midnight. In fact, it might be midnight in this forest and on this hill for all she knew. Suddenly, she slipped on the wet grass and began to roll down the hillside.

  Desperately hanging onto her backpack she tried to spread her legs to slow her downward movement. Some of it worked. She continued her downward movement, but it was now on her stomach.

  At last, she stopped, but it was with help. She slid into the legs of a guy dressed all in green with only his eyes showing through a slit in his head covering. If his eyes had been slanted or almond-shaped she would have said she was in the Far East. His eyes were dark, but they were Caucasian or maybe Middle Eastern.

  Rolling over on her back she looked up as more of the men in green came out silently from behind trees. Okay, she remembered that the Assassin groups started in the Middle Eastern culture, but that was an arid flat area, not hilly and covered with bountiful trees that were over the heads of the group surrounding her.

  There was no speaking, but with a couple of hand signals, two warriors had her up and hands tied and a gag over her mouth. She didn't resist and was grateful that they allowed her to pull the backpack up over a shoulder before tying her wrists together.

  They moved without any noise away from the storm's center and her boots made more noise than all of their feet together. There was a rope looped to the ties on her hands, and one person was leading her. Margo saw no reason to resist as they were moving away from the storm and the place where Rahm was standing as he directed the thunder and lightning.

  She had no idea where she was at or what country this was, but eventually, she hoped she could either talk to her captors or get away and find someone else for help.

  The rain was letting up, and they seemed to be walking on a path or at least on level ground. There still was no talking, but the person in front raised a hand, and everyone stopped. The one holding her rope pulled on it to hold her tight and in place.

  At this point she still wanted to show them that all she wanted to do was cooperate so when they began to go down on one knee she knelt, taking the same position. Margo didn't hear anything, but her guard's heads turned in one direction. They had trained, and this was their forest.

  Figuring she was already messing up their progress with her loud steps and slower movement, she wanted to prove to be willing to work with them. As long as they kept moving away from Rahm and let her have her backpack, she was happy as their captive.

  One made a hand signal, and they rose, so she got up and at the pull of her rope, she moved forward with the group. The group had grown in number, as silent, unseen figures joined from the trees on each side. They walked for what she thought was hours, but the pace was reasonable. She was still comfortable.

  At last, she heard some low whispers and a branch broke under someone's foot. They must be getting into a safer area. They came to a halt, and on the wet ground, someone began to build a small fire in a flat pot. They seemed to be using coals or black wood that did not send up much smoke as it began to glow.

  Margo was pulled down to sit on the damp ground, and she saw people around her begin to unwrap their heads. The green wraps were some type of long material that they had swathed around and around their heads and necks until with one long piece they had covered everything in a tight snug protection except their eyes.

  She was surprised to see that there were just as many women as men in this fighting collection of what looked like assassins. Yes, that was the word that came to her mind remembering about the movies and books she studied as a child of people that dressed like these people.

  There was talking, but it was low so it would not travel very far among these trees. Now there were a couple of small pots on the glowing coals, and something smelled good. Her stomach reacted, and she moved so that her pack slid off her shoulder and scooting she got it to a side. Even with her hands tied she was able to pull it around so that she could open the flap.

  A hand reached over, and she stopped to look up. A woman's smiling face just helped her open the backpack. This woman had a thin face to match her toned fighting body. The woman was sitting comfortably with her legs crossed and her lean body tilting without strain to help with the backpack.

  The female warrior smiled and nodded and leaned back, giving Margo permission to get whatever she needed from the open pack. Okay, in some ways they trusted her. Probably because they thought any one of them could kick the shit out of her and she believed they could. Hand-to-hand was not something she would win at with a trained fighter.

  Pulling out some dried fruit she took a bite and offered some to the woman beside her. The woman hesitated then took the piece and tasted it. A smile showed she liked the flavor.

  The woman handed a piece of the fruit to a man and got up to go to the fire. She took a short stick and speared something out of one of the pans and brought it back, sitting down in one swift movement. Blowing on the piece she then held out the stick to Margo.

  Margo took the stick with her tied hands and carefully tasted the warm meat. Yes, it was meat with a sweet sauce that was very pleasing out here in the damp woods.

  Margo nodded. "Thanks. It’s good." She knew they would not understand her language but maybe they would understand her expression.

  The woman said something then pounded her chest and said, "Me Lee…" as if saying her name.

  Margo waited a moment and repeated the same motion. She fisted her chest once and said, "Margo."

  "Mar Go." The woman nodded and said something to the people near her. "Mar Go." With the break in the middle, her name was repeated in the group, as if she was being introduced.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Margo was learning a new language from a child who looked to be about eight- or nine-years-old. So far she knew the girl's name, Am Me, and the name of her cat and her doll and her favorite food.

  She knew the giggling child's name for her socks and her hut and for her brother. That word came with a glare that probably was an insult.

  What she was getting were childhood nouns. She needed to learn to understand how to talk to these people. It had taken them two nights and the third day to get to the hidden village, and she picked up a few words as they traveled.

  Watching carefully she decided there were some in the group that were hunters for food, some that were watchers for the enemy, and a few that guarded her. There were the ones who carried supplies, and they were in charge of the fire.

  By the time they stopped for the first night, the storm had passed, and they slept under the trees in slings attached to the limbs that put them above the ground. She needed help getting into the sling or hammock, but once in they were comfortable. Margo even ended up on one side with her backpack as a pillow.

  Once they reached the village that was built from natural material that blended into the forest, she was assigned to a family. She had not seen the village or even any paths until they walked into the front of the first gate. These people were amazing at camouflage. She also realized her large group was not walking in toget
her. They had broken up and were walking in from different directions. The staggered walk would prevent a beaten entry path.

  Once shown inside her hut, they untied her, and everyone just left except for the giggling child, her language teacher. Margo learned that meals were a community affair and under an outside roof made from limbs and leaves. From what she could tell, everyone contributed, and there seemed to be several of these community tents scattered off in the distance for about a mile.

  This faction was made up of several thousand people who seemed to live off the land. Still, she found in the food varieties some standard roots like carrots and potatoes, so someone somewhere had to have some gardens. Margo never saw any farming in the time she was with the Em Gols. That was the name the little girl said when she pointed to all the people.

  Becoming frustrated at learning nothing but children's nouns, Margo decided to see what would happen if she went out for a walk through the collection of huts without her giggling companion.

  After lunch on the third day, she slipped away into the crowd of people, allowing the grown-ups to hide her from the short child. She wandered around amazed at how clean everyone and everything was. Men and women alike were moving and picking up items and repairing huts and their own clothes.

  It took Margo about ten minutes of walking before she became aware of the first thing that was wrong. There were no elderly. The oldest person she saw couldn't have been above mid-life or forty years of age. There were also no really young children or babies.

  Her language teacher seemed to be about the youngest. She did see some training groups, and they included the younger ones and some teens all taught by people her age.

  She discovered one thing—she couldn't learn a foreign language from a child in just a couple of days. Margo was frustrated because the only words she was learning were childish nouns except for no. It was yo, and the child used it often with her brother.