by Kade Cook
“Now that is cool.”
“Yeah, I guess Magik does have its perks sometimes.” A click of the door crackles in Gabrian’s ears, and a chill of her own runs up the back of her neck, sensing an intense and eerie strain of darkness nearing.
“Symone,” Rachael cheers out.
“Sorry, I didn’t know you had company.” A tall slender girl stands in the opening with dark hair, wild and unruly. The hint of an arrogant smirk rides on the plumpness of her lips, and her black pensive eyes bore into Gabrian, already irritating her patience, knowing exactly who this girl is.
“No worries, come in.”
Gabrian’s senses sting as the girl enters the space. Her purple aura flares in bursts with each slow stride she takes, reminding Gabrian of a predator. There is a strange darkness to her, different from the aura she saw on the girl’s father. Where his is bright and vibrant hers is potent and murky. The girl smiles sweetly, eyeing the two friends as she approaches, but it is sickly-sweet, and it gnaws at Gabrian’s core.
“Gabrian, this is Symone, Cimmerian’s daughter,” Rachael chimes out.
Gathering her manners, and her self-control, Gabrian returns the smile. “Hi.”
“Hi,” she softly hisses.
Did she just hiss at me? Gabrian pinches the edges of her eyes for a second. The dark aura around the girl grows in its murkiness and whips out, violently sending strands of its presence to lurch and wind invasively around Gabrian’s form. Irritated, Gabrian purses her lips and pushes her own energy out. A strange wave of sizzling light blocks the intrusion and sends the invasive strands of light to scurry back to its owner.
Symone’s sickly-sweet smile flinches in the retraction, and she flexes a twisted brow. “So, you are the girl all the fuss is about.”
“Um, pardon me? Sorry?”
“Adrinn and Cera’s child,” she tries to spit out politely, but Gabrian can hear the disdain through her nearly gritted teeth.
“Yes, I guess I am.”
Symone glides over and sits on the side of Rachael’s bed, almost in the same spot Gabrian had just vacated. Gabrian’s skin crawls at her close proximity to her friend, and a growl grows just beneath her throat as she cozies up to Rachael.
“You two know each other?”
“Oh, sorry, yes. Symone is in the room just down the hall, and we met a couple weeks ago.”
“Ah, right.” The odd sting to her senses, from the day she found out Rachael was awake, ghosts over her. Remembering passing by the room, and its familiar offence lingers over the girl only mere feet away from her. It must have been her room that she had passed by on the way here.
Symone paints a bigger smile, more sickly-sweet than before—one that curdles in the pit of Gabrian’s stomach. “You know,” she says. “I think I am going to go.”
Rachael smile dips as the words leave Gabrian’s mouth.
“You don’t have to go on my account,” the girl taunts.
Gabrian forces a polite smile. “Oh, it’s not, trust me.” She makes the point clear to the girl. “I have some things I need to take care of.”
“Oh, okay,” Rachael hums.
“I will come back. Maybe tomorrow.” Gabrian slides in and leans down, wrapping her arms around Rachael, and feels the light of her soul burn brightly in contrast to the girl beside her. She whispers a soft ‘I love you’ before letting go.
“I love you too, Gabe,” Rachael replies, letting Gabrian slip out of her arms, and starts for the door.
“It was nice to finally meet you,” Symone says, way too chipper for Gabrian’s liking.
“Yeah, you too,” Gabrian lies, not even bothering to pretend to smile this time.
As she steps through the door, and it slips closed, a wave of high-pitch giggles stings her ears. The heat from her boiling blood flushes her cheeks. Her fists clench, aching to punch clean through that smiling rat sitting on Rachael’s bed.
“There is something not right with that girl.” Gabrian purses her lips, looking back at the door. “I am not jealous. I’m not.”
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Forgiveness is a Four-Letter Word
The sun drifts through the clouds like a ghost in the darkness when they enter the Covenant of Shadows. Its faded light mixes with the colours of the cauldron’s fiery prismatic glow, flickering in Gabrian’s presence, but nothing more. One remains just as barren as the day she first saw it.
Tynan releases her wrist and drapes his arm around her as they walk through the corridor, sensing the frayed edge of Gabrian’s nerves as she bites the tip of her thumb. “Are you sure you want to do this?
She looks straight ahead, gearing up for the encounter, and unsure of how it will all play out. She needs to do this, regardless of her own sanity. She must face her fears before they consume her. “No, I’m not, but I have to, Uncle Ty. I can’t go on living this way—afraid to close my eyes because of all the monsters that wait for me when I do.” She tucks her arm around him and takes in his strength. “I have to let go or at least try to.”
He knows she is right. Tynan has witnessed firsthand the flood of terror her eyes hold when she wakes. Instead of going to the left, as usual when entering, they take a right and walk through the giant pillars and into the center of a large oval opening in the marble wall. She has never seen this part of the Covenant, her desire to look farther into the place tainted.
On the other side, small vendor kiosks are scattered in a chaotic order. Different colours of their banners breach the boredom of the white and black speckled floors. People are busy straightening displays and chatting gainfully with potential buyers—that is until Tynan and Gabrian stride through the middle of it. Voices cut out mid-sentence and switch to hisses of whispers and pointed fingers—not to mention the mixture of dirty looks with hopeful but meek smiles under nodding heads.
Gabrian’s head fills with the internal dialogue of the people scurrying about to catch a glimpse of her. Words like ‘not much to look at’ to ‘she is too young to be trusted’ flair through her mind. She lifts her chin as she has before, blocks out the barrage of mental murmurs, and looks straight ahead, not wanting to see or hear anymore. She is here for a reason and will not let the doubts of unfamiliar people waver her determination to see this through.
Feeling her tension, Tynan guides her through the market with more hurriedness toward a large slab of dark marble just a few meters away. Gabrian stares as the darkness shifts and sways within the wall. Two large forms stand on either side. Their serious faces ease in to smiles as the large Guardian closes the distance between them. “Tynan, it is good to see you,” one says. The other, “Where have you been hiding?”
His inner glow bubbles out over his tongue as he speaks with kindness to his friends—both of them no doubt having trained under the Shadow Walker. Standing patiently, Gabrian waits for the pleasantries to subside and lets her uncle get down to the reason for the visit. “Guardians, this is my niece, Gabrian.”
Their eyes lower to the small woman and dip their heads, knowing exactly whom and what she is rumored to be. I wish people would stop doing that here.
“Gabrian requests a visit with the Elder of Derkaz, Cimmerian Cole.”
“Of course. He should be in his chamber. Just tell Murphy inside. He knows which row he is in.”
“Thank you, gentlemen. I will see her in.”
Tynan grips hold of Gabrian’s wrist, and she follows her Uncle’s lead, fading in the shadowy wisps of the space between the two men. On the other side, they step out into a narrow hallway, take a left, and step out into an open space filled with rows upon rows of small open cubicles. An array of different Fellowship colours lightly drift in front of them. A few people dressed in light blue common tees and jeans come and go as they please in and out of cells.
A wave of nervousness flips her stomach, and she tugs on her uncle’s shirt. “This is where you keep all the prisoners?”
“Yes, most. Why?”
“Where are the locks a
nd keys? There are no bars or doors on the cells.”
“It is okay, don’t worry. The people here are under strict monitored watch by Guardians just within the Veil. No one steps out of line before they are quickly put back in and given a proper reminder that there are other places they can be kept. It is just an illusion. Some small freedoms given help keep the prisoners’ mental state a little more intact.”
“Oh,” she says, not feeling any better about the set up.
“Being caged like an animal isn’t good for anyone’s state of mind. Besides, where are they going to go? No one gets in or out unless it is through the shadows.”
“Okay, if you say so.” She raises her brow and keeps her hold on his shirt.
A tall young man greets the two, and Tynan makes his request, pointing to the row of cells where Cimmerian calls home. They both thank him and head in that direction. Not everyone seems to be awake. Only the early risers are up and moving, she notices, taking a quick peek into the open cells as she glides by, closely shadowing her uncle’s large form.
Tynan slows his stride, making Gabrian suck in her breath. A haze of purple light drifts out from the cell. Sitting up against the pillows of his already made bed, the dark Elder peers up at them above his glasses. A snug grey tee hugs his torso, matched with a pair of faded black jeans. His hands hold the leather-bound edges of a book. Her heart rattles her chest, and a rush of stinging heat flushes her face as she meets his black eyes. He looks way too content to be a prisoner in Gabrian’s opinion.
“Good morning,” he says, sliding a strip of paper into the cream-coloured pages of his book, and closes it, resting it on the bed beside him. “To what do I owe this pleasure, young Gabrian?”
Tynan steps back, eyeing the Elder, and senses his energy levels for any signs of aggression then looks at his niece. “Would you like some privacy or do you want me to stay?”
“Do you mind if I speak to him alone for a few minutes?” She wants him to stay but with him physically lurking over her shoulder, she is not sure she will find the right words. But the Veil will do. She knows there are others watching, so privacy isn’t really a big concern right now.
“Sure thing. I will be just on the other side if you need me.”
“Thanks.” She watches his physical form fade into nothing. Even though she has seen this parlor trick a hundred times now, it is still fascinating to watch it happen.
“So, I say again. What do I owe this pleasure to?”
Inhaling, she turns to face her fears—well, at least one of them. “I just wanted to talk to you about some things.”
“Certainly, my dear,” he offers, getting up from his bed and stepping out of his cell. “Shall we take a walk then?”
Is he serious? We are in a prison full of bad guys, and he want to go traipsing through the muck of them. “Sure, okay.”
He tucks his hands behind his back and starts to go, but Gabrian’s feet are stuck to the floor, paralyzed by the very thought of perusing nonchalantly through the prison.
“Don’t worry, it will be fine. I have no desire to hurt you. If it makes you feel better there is a constant watch on all of the inmates.”
“Yes, Uncle—I mean Tynan mentioned that.” She sucks up her hesitation and starts after him.
“Before you say what you have come to say, I just want to tell you that I am sorry. I feel horrible for what I let happen to you,” he says, his words soft and sincere.
Her body almost jerks to a stop at his unprovoked confession. “But why did you do it then?”
“It was never really about you, child.” He slows his stride, letting her catch up. “I will admit that I did not hold any concern for you and your Borrower beginnings. You were just a pawn. A disposable player in the game I had chosen to play with your father.”
My father. Another demon she must soon face on her trek of forgiveness.
“I will make no excuses for what I have done. And I deserve to be here. It is just, sometimes life offers you an unorthodox opportunity to obtain what you want. But, in return, it creates a tunnel vision, blinding out all the wrongdoings of your actions, only allowing focus on how to achieve that one thing you so desperately desire to have.
“For me, it was the chance of getting my daughter back.” His eyes graze down the small girl at his side. “I held no regard for what it may have been doing to you or your loved ones.” Cimmerian still feels the sting of casting the blocked shadows around Gabrian’s adoptive parents. His tunnel vision had cost them their lives, but he will never speak of it. He wants to eventually be released from this prison and if this secret were to be let out, his chances would be slim to none. “Unfortunately, this kind of thinking can make you very dangerous.”
Gabrian purses her lips, listening to the Derkaz Elder explain his reasons for his actions—his words earnest and heartfelt. Understanding completely what he is saying, she is not here to cast judgement, only to find forgiveness. She has her own demons to slay when it comes to doing what she needed in order to survive. At least he is coming clean on his own, and the pill he offers is easier to swallow.
“The same kind of blindness, I do believe, was the undoing of Caspyous as well.”
Hearing the name sends shivers down her spine, a replay of his heinous acts toward her setting her skin to crawl. Gabrian does a scan over every face they meet on their walk, knowing he is here somewhere, and prepares herself for an encounter.
Seeing the youngling shudder, Cimmerian curves away from the ex-Elder’s mention. His intention is not to burn the bridge before he can build it. He needs to move forward and strengthen his frayed connection with her, especially if she is to be the new head of the Table. “Anyway, all I am trying to say is that I am sorry. I know we are scheduled to work together in the near future, once I have served the mandatory amount of time of my sentence, and I am hoping that I can redeem myself in your eyes.”
This Cimmerian that is before her is not the man she came to forgive. It is like all the darkness that had loomed over him like a cloud is gone. The anger and the hatred that seeped from his soul toward her is nothing more than a distant memory, another life. Gabrian turns to face the Elder, letting go of her fear of the man, and finds a meek smile.
“Alright. I have said my peace, and I will reap what I have sowed. The stage is yours,” he says, guiding them toward a large open area of the Hollows, and stops before a table. He slides into one of the chairs, offering the other to Gabrian.
Slipping her small form into the stone chair, she exhales. All the words she so carefully cultivated in her mind, everything she had wanted to scream at him, hold no meaning anymore. Her heart is lighter and the twisted knot of stress she had carried in here with her unwinds as forgiveness is lent to the man who sent her to Erebus. “So, um, I was just wondering if there is anything I should be doing to prepare for our sessions together.” The words ring easy on her tongue. Not hatred, no malice, the hatchet has been buried in her mind, handle and all.
The two sit for a few moments, discussing some small pointers she could work on while waiting his clearance for temporary leave. A few inquisitive stares float over them as they speak, but no one approaches, not even Tynan who is just on the cusp of the Veil.
Gabrian’s skin prickles as one prisoner closes in and interrupts her visit. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”
Cimmerian tenses. His violet aura stops its flowy display and switches over his form, snaking out to shield the girl, knowing the boiling hatred that runs rampant within the intruder. “Caspyous, do you mind?”
“Oh no, I don’t mind at all, Cimmerian,” he spits out. “It is not every day we are privileged with a visit from such an esteemed new member of the Covenant.”
Gabrian’s fingers burn like wildfire biting at the ends. Her body tingles with the stream of adrenaline pumping through her veins and shadows shift in her peripheral. She knows the shadows are watching now.
“Caspyous, we are in the middle of a lesson, could you plea
se move on.”
“It is alright, Cimmerian.” Gabrian clenches her burning hands and finds her voice. “I came here to see Caspyous as well.”
The Hydor member switches his brow at her, his eyes digging into her to try to stir her fears, and steps in to invade their small bubble of comfort. Gabrian’s breath hitches, and she cannot seem to find enough air to fill her lungs.
“Is that so? Alright, you came to see me so here I am. What do you want?” he hisses, sliding his hand around the back of his hip, tapping his side, then brings his hand forward again.
“Well,” she croaks out, her eyes sneak a peek at Cimmerian then around at the shifting shadows just within reach, and finally land on Caspyous. “I just wanted to tell you that I want to forgive you for—”
A loud crack of haughty laughter claps in her ears. His eyes burn wild with the same glare of hatred he has always shown her. There is no guilt in his eyes for the attack he had orchestrated, nor a plea for sympathy in his attempted murder. No there is nothing good or kind in those eyes. He leers at her and steps in. Cimmerian rises from his chair and blocks the wild man’s advances on his young visitor. “Forgive? I don’t want your forgiveness. I meant every single vile act toward erasing you from this Realm.”
Cimmerian pulls Gabrian behind his back and puts a hand out to the ranting ex-Elder. “That is quite enough, Caspyous.”
“I hardly think it is,” he continues his tirade. “You are the spawn of evilness, an abomination of existence. These people are stupid to stand by and watch you claim the throne of their world. The Elders are so eager to pass the torch, and when they do, you will burn them all to the ground. Even if no one else can see the truth for what it is, I can.”
Cimmerian, steps away from the irate man and tries to pull Gabrian along with him, placing her out of Caspyous’ reach. “Come on. I think it is time for us to go.”
Tears well at the edges of Gabrian’s eyes as she glances back at the seething glare being thrown her way, then moves along with Cimmerian’s demanding tug to leave.