Things That Should Stay Buried

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Things That Should Stay Buried Page 25

by Casey L. Bond


  “Don’t bother anyone else for five minutes.”

  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” she said, searching my eyes for something she probably wouldn’t find.

  Sometimes I forgot they weren’t human. She handed me my knife and leg harness and I cinched it on as she vanished. It couldn’t have been more than a minute before she reappeared with a bundle of baby blue fabric spilling from her arms.

  “It matches your eyes… and it’s calming.”

  I was thankful she hadn’t pressed for something the color of blood again. The amount I lost in the nightmare was disturbing enough.

  And calm was good. Calm, I needed.

  I let her twist and knot in silence. Today… I didn’t go bold, and she didn’t even ask if I wanted it. She knew I was still upset, and she was being really nice. The first time she came to help me, it was because she owed Kes. This time, she was just being a friend. She was being thoughtful.

  I saw it in the careful way she watched me as she combed through my hair and sprayed it with hair product that smelled like coconut. She didn’t braid it and didn’t ask me if I wanted makeup. And when she was satisfied, she lingered. “Aries would like to see you when you’re ready to see him. He’s… upset.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he cares for you and you were upset when he saw you last,” she explained so simply, it made the invisible hole Taurus left in my chest hurt.

  “He shouldn’t. It’ll just hurt him worse when I’m dead.”

  She sighed. “Larken.”

  “I need to see my brother for a minute first. Can you tell him I’ll be on the balcony?”

  She gathered her bag. “Sure.”

  “Thank you for everything,” I told her, in case I didn’t get to again.

  “Larken, it was just a dream.”

  “Except it wasn’t. We both know that.” I strode out the door and made my way to the balcony.

  Kes was already waiting for me, sitting on the plastic chaise, his knee nervously bouncing. He shot up when I came up the steps. “Hey,” he greeted.

  “Hey.”

  His eyes were sharp as he looked me over. “How are you?”

  “Taurus killed me last night in my dream and it felt real. It still does, even though I’m awake.”

  Kes went still. “He killed you?”

  I nodded. “Why does it actually hurt, Kes?” I pressed the heel of my palm over my heart.

  He cursed. “I need to get Aries.”

  As soon as he spoke his name, Aries appeared beside me. He glanced over me, concern shimmering in his pink eyes as he raked them over me, frantically searching for what was wrong.

  “I’m fine,” I whispered.

  “No, she isn’t,” Kes cut in. I looked at him and he nodded to me. “Tell him everything, and don’t leave anything out.”

  “It was just a dream,” I argued weakly.

  Kes looked at his hands, and I noticed something dark stained around his cuticles. “Then why did I spend the last hour scrubbing an enormous puddle of blood from the courtyard?”

  My heart thundered. Am I dead?

  “Were you there? In your dream, were you in the courtyard?” Aries asked carefully, his words seeming to plead for me to tell him I wasn’t.

  I opened my mouth. It couldn’t have been my blood. If it was, I’d be dead. I watched so much pour out. My heart pumped so fast, I thought I was going to pass out. Sounds and voices were muted by the roaring in my ears. I felt like I did in the dream. I was dying.

  Falling…

  “Larken?” a gritted cry came.

  “Tell me she’s okay.” Kes.

  His voice was there. I was dying and Kes was there, watching with Kestrel’s eyes. He saw me fall. He would see my chest go still and stay that way, even as they dragged him away.

  I came to in a dark room, lying in a bed with black silken sheets that felt cold against my clammy skin. Aries sat beside me wiping a cold rag across my forehead, and I realized I was in his room.

  I tried to sit up but he pushed me back down. “You need to rest. And when you feel better, you need to eat.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re not fine, and I wish we had more time for you to recover, but we don’t. I need you to trust me and tell me exactly what happened in your dream; where you were, what you wore, any smells you remember, what was said and what happened.”

  I didn’t want to relive it, but maybe he could tell me more.

  So I told him every detail I could think of. Down to the grit between my bare toes and the feeling of not being able to breathe or scream because the pain had stolen my breath, because Taurus’s spear pierced not only my heart but my lung.

  I told him that I died and described the sinking feeling that came with the ebbing of my consciousness. The way I stood for a moment after the impact, only to waver and crumple, and how Taurus pressed his head against mine. Then how everything faded away.

  In the end, it was quick. It felt slow, but I’d died quickly.

  It hurt, but it wasn’t a drawn-out, agonizing pain. The blow Taurus dealt was quick and precise.

  Aries listened to every word. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe.

  He was motionless for so long, it scared me. The only way I knew he was alive was that I could feel the pulse in his wrist. He’d held my hand at my request and placed his index finger over the pulse-point in my wrist, so I was holding his hand the same way. Blood whooshed through his veins. I clung to the feel, knowing he was absorbing what I told him.

  “I could give you the memory,” I rasped uncertainly.

  He finally blinked and looked at our hands. “That’s not a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I feel the ache in my chest as it is. If I experienced it through your memory, there’s no telling what I’d do.”

  “There’s nothing to be done. It was just a dream.”

  “It was a threat – a wish – from Taurus himself,” he rasped. “He wanted you to know he’s coming, and that he intends to target you. He’ll plan to separate us, so we must stay together. We can’t let that happen.” He stood, jerking his hand from mine, and paced across the floor, tearing at his hair.

  I sat up and scooted so my back was against the headboard, ignoring the swimming lightheadedness I still felt. “Aries?” When he turned his face to mine, the anguish I saw made me throw the covers back.

  “Stay in bed,” he ordered, stopping his steps.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” he echoed. “I want to tear the stars from the heavens! I want to shred the sky! I want to end them all…even those I respect.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because even as they draw breath, they are a threat to you. I can’t tell friend from foe right now, so I have no other choice than to believe they’re all against us.”

  “Aquarius saved me,” I reminded him. He gave me a sliver of advice I hadn’t forgotten, and I’d finally started to believe him.

  Aquarius seemed like a friend.

  Virgo, however, had done nothing but spit venom in my direction.

  When I really thought about it… Aquarius might be the only Zodia on Aries’s side.

  Taurus, Gemini, Pisces, Cancer, Leo, Libra, Sagittarius… they were clear enemies. Virgo’s allegiance was blurred, at best.

  That only left Scorpio and Capricorn. They hadn’t attacked with the others, but didn’t come to help, either. Maybe they wanted to remain neutral, or maybe they hadn’t shown their hands yet.

  I was convinced the Zodia would come after me. They would attack Aries as a team, then while Aries and his Guardians were distracted, Taurus would stalk and kill me. They didn’t care about the lives of his people or Guardians; they just wanted him gone.

>   “I think you should take back the pledge,” I rasped.

  His eyes, now dark pink, flared. “The thing about one’s word, Larken, is that it cannot be taken back once given.”

  “Damn your pride, Aries! It’s going to get you killed. It’ll get my brother killed, and then all the people born under your sign.” My outburst sapped all my energy and I wheezed, pressing a hand to my chest where the invisible puncture ached again.

  “Sit down,” he said, rushing to my side. “What… Why are you holding your chest?”

  “Because it hurts!” I cried in frustration. “It’s been hurting since I woke up.”

  Fear shone in Aries’s eyes right before they flicked to the library. “I need to check something. You should lie back down.”

  “Can I just sit in there?” I asked, looking at the shelves visible from the doorway longingly. “I love to read. And I feel safer near you.”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  I probably could have asked for a pony and he would’ve made one appear for me right in the middle of his chamber, or in the beautiful library just beyond it. The guilt swimming in his eyes was as dark as a monster lurking in deep water.

  He stopped at the mirror and waited, the question in his eyes. “I’d love to see them right now,” I told him.

  The glimpses were so short, but they were everything. Mom and Dad were sleeping. So far apart, but doing the same thing… they looked peaceful.

  Somewhat satisfied by the brief glimpses of my parents, I walked into the library, Aries by my side. I felt incredibly weak, like I really had been gored and lost all my blood. My legs barely had the strength to support me. How could a dream, or any sort of threat, do that?

  Maybe one of his books held the answers. They were usually chock full of them. Even in fiction, my favorite authors could highlight universal truths and word them in such a way that they became a tattoo on my heart. I scanned the spines. Every book was written in a language I couldn’t recognize, let alone read. My shoulders sank in disappointment.

  “You can read them now,” he said softly, his voice raking down my spine like a caress.

  I glanced up, letting my fingers drift among the spines, and pulled a soft, leather-bound book out, flipping it open. The pages were like silk, and as I watched, the symbols inscribed inside shifted and rearranged into words I could read and understand.

  “Thank you.”

  He stepped closer. I could feel the warmth radiating from his body against my back. He trailed a finger down my arm. “You can come here whenever you’d like. You don’t have to ask.”

  I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to invade his privacy again, and waltzing through someone’s bedroom whenever you wanted would be doing just that.

  “Don’t,” he breathed. “I want you here.”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “That doesn’t stop me from wanting you. I need you close to me.”

  He leaned his forehead against the back of my head. His breath toyed with my hair. I didn’t know if his eyes were open or closed, but when his claw gently raked up the center of my palm, I let out a faint gasp.

  “I’ve never been so afraid as when I felt your fear,” he admitted.

  “Felt it?”

  His hand went to cover my mark.

  “Oh,” I said, swallowing thickly. A war raged across his beautiful, enigmatic features. “You won’t break me, Aries.” I brought his hand to my waist and laid my head on his chest.

  “I’m afraid I might. You’re weak right now.”

  “Your heart is thundering.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m afraid.”

  I raised my head. “You?”

  He nodded. “Taurus must know what the nightmare would do. If he attacks now…”

  “I wouldn’t be strong enough to run away or fight back.”

  He kissed my temple and ran his hands up and down my back.

  “Are there any books about you – the Zodia, I mean?” I asked, finding my voice.

  He nodded. “Several.”

  He dragged his eyes away to walk across the room. “This will explain a great deal of things,” he rasped. He crossed the floor and held it out for me. I tried to take it, but he clung to the tome. “The information in here…”

  “I won’t share it with anyone.”

  He shook his head, letting go of the book. I brought it to my chest and held it there. “It’s not that. It… Well, just read it. Come to me with any questions you might have.” He held my eyes for a long moment before finally looking away.

  I glanced around the room. The desk that was here when I snuck down before was gone. In its place was a lush loveseat, upholstered in sumptuous black fabric. No, not black, I realized as I sat down. Midnight blue. The color of the sky long after sunset, but before the darkest part of the night took hold. Of the dress I chose for prom.

  “That used to be my favorite color,” he said.

  “What is it now?”

  He studied me and I felt a flush rise to my cheeks. “The clear, cool blue of your eyes. Sharper than crystal but transparent, like pure, thick ice.”

  I smiled. “I hated the color pink my entire life, until you woke and looked at me.”

  He nodded toward the book still clutched against my chest.

  “Who wrote this?” It was written in first person, in present tense, and read like a diary.

  He took a deep breath and answered, “I did.”

  My mouth fell open. He wrote this entire book? It was so thick and heavy, it barely fit in one hand. “Wow.”

  “I wrote all of these,” he said softly. “Some are just thoughts. Some are experiences.” He gestured to the book. “You’ll see.”

  I had no words.

  I turned to the book and began to read, imagining him speaking each word, settled at a desk illuminated by candlelight, dipping a quill into ink and baring his soul. I curled my legs up and read, barely aware when he sat down beside me and started flipping through the pages of another.

  I could tell this wasn’t the first journal he’d written, so I was entering his stream of consciousness between his first thoughts and… Was he still writing? Did he have time to? There was so much drama lately, I didn’t think he had any downtime at all. It suddenly hit me.

  “It’s been a week, hasn’t it?”

  Aries stilled beside me, a page standing straight up between his clawed fingers. “I believe so, yes.”

  I turned back to the page.

  Aries’s words sparked an image in my mind.

  When we were created, there was only one rule that could not be broken, much like when the humans were made and were forbidden from partaking of the fruit of the tree in the midst of the garden. The first humans were unable to resist the temptation of tasting the forbidden fruit, and we were not so very different.

  We were more powerful, possessing powers they couldn’t begin to fathom when we crashed onto the earth. We had been forbidden from intimately knowing a human. From mothering and fathering generations of what amounted to mutts. While the female Zodia partook in the flesh of humans, they were careful not to bear children.

  Some of the males fathered children with human women, mostly the product of a mixture of lust and irresponsibility.

  Others procreated on purpose.

  Taurus is chief among them.

  His eldest born, fully grown and nearly as brawny and ruthless as Taurus himself, challenged him weeks ago. At first, he was stronger than Taurus realized and almost beheaded him. Taurus was shaken and enlisted Sagittarius and Leo to join him in the sport of hunting his offspring.

  Some were easy for them to find, sporting his physical attributes. Others were more difficult. They looked more human than Zodia.

  But the Creator never blessed what he forbade.

  And so he m
ade it so that the only thing that could end us without our people paying the price… was the blood of our blood.

  Their own children.

  This was disgusting. I could imagine a young boy running toward his father, horns gleaming, so happy to see him… Taurus extending his arms to lure him closer, only to spear the child the way he stabbed me in my dream. I could imagine the boy’s eyes widen in shock and hear him struggle to draw in air he desperately needed. I knew the pain he would feel and the despair of feeling his life slipping away, along with the knowledge there was nothing he could do about it. He would leave the people he loved because of the one who fathered him and gave him life in the first place.

  Aries had stopped flipping pages and was watching me. “How many,” I rasped, “did he kill?”

  “Fifty-seven before I put them to sleep. There were a few others he had not hunted down, though.”

  My heart dropped. Fifty-seven children.

  I knew some of them must have been older if his eldest was a man when he went to kick his father’s ass, but some of them might have been babies. He may have even murdered the women still carrying his babies. The idea turned my stomach.

  Aries showed me this for a reason. Taurus was more depraved than I realized. If he was capable of committing such evil and hell-bent on ending me, my future looked bleak.

  I had lasted more than forty-eight hours, survived attacks from Pisces and Cancer, reunited with a friend only to have him torn away, and experienced the most lifelike and brutal nightmare I’d ever had. A threat directly from Taurus.

  I read more passages, flipping through many of the pages quickly. Some were scribbled with just thoughts, like he’d said. Other pages were written so thickly and angrily, I couldn’t make out all the words. Those were the pages detailing the attack on his people. He’d meant to abstain from the in-fighting to keep them safe from the battles the other Zodia insisted on, but in the end had damned them.

  It was disgusting. The others valued nothing but themselves.

  This book was a turning point for him, written as he was planning and building the temple. There were even sketches of the layout and details of its progress here and there.

  Aquarius helped him design it. I bet that chafed him, knowing he’d unknowingly built his own tomb. Aries had told him it was to honor them and give them a neutral place to meet. That in the temple, their differences would be put aside. That he was willing to make peace, even after what they’d done. Aquarius hadn’t attacked his people. Nor had Virgo’s or Capricorn’s. But the other Zodia’s armies overwhelmed them. They took them by surprise and slaughtered many. He thought it was to weaken him. He was probably right.

 

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