by A L Hart
To her surprise, she did just that.
Ch. 19
“Peter, what’re you doing here?”
I dropped my duffle bag beside the bench and glanced around the dojo. Empty. As could be expected at 3 in the morning.
“Couldn’t sleep,” I admitted sheepishly. The dreams, foggy and elusive as they may have been, left an unsettling haze in my mind. “What are you doing here? I didn’t think you had Sunday classes.”
“I don’t. But this is the best time to get my workout in before the Sunday crazies come out.” She was dressed in her usual joggers and sweatshirt. Sweat still clung to her from her match against the punching bag.
After I stretched, she tossed me a pair of gloves and together we lined up at the punching bags.
“You know, I usually charge to use the equipment during non-class hours,” she said as she started up.
“You know, I usually charge people who come into my shop and drink my coffee.”
“Ouch, feeling testy today?”
I shook my head, boxing the bag in a form nowhere near as glamorous as hers, but I didn’t care. The building burn in my arms, I liked it. A distraction. From the pixie, from Jera, from the Shatters.
“Trouble in paradise?” she teased.
“You could say that.”
“Ah, she who must not be named?”
I hit the bag harder now. “I don’t get it, Nat. I tried to be her friend, tried to be her boyfriend,” A word that was comical in and of itself given who I was referring to. “And she pushes me away. After having admitted that she cared for me. But a few days ago, she did something . . . something I don’t think I can forgive.”
“Put pineapples on pizza?”
“We are not going down that road,” I laughed, but then the ire rose up in me again as I remembered what’d gone down at the Sanctuary. “Why are women so weird and hung up on mind games? Why can’t they just be up front?”
“Biology?” she suggested, our tempos syncing.
“Biology?” I echoed.
“I mean, if we’re speaking biologically, women are enticed to play hard to get so that the man can prove their worth.”
Not her too. She was no different than Graves and his belief in having to prove your worth to earn respect, or in this case, her heart. “You can’t possibly believe that.”
“Nah, I don’t. Just sounded right. In truth, knowing what I know about that woman from the outside looking in, I’m pretty sure it’s just insecurity and you just have to romance her a little. Go all out if you really want her, though, honestly, I don’t see the appeal in her that you do. Plenty of other simple, easy women out there.”
I didn’t mean to laugh so loud. “Jera, insecure?” But then again, that fear I’d sensed our first time here in the dojo, when she’d strained herself and retreated to the bathroom. It had been fear I’d seen. But of what? She’d made it perfectly clear she didn’t fear me.
“Peter, I’m never wrong, so take it from me, she probably has daddy issues or some past abuse and therefore, the more you push to get close to her, the more she’s going to push you away.”
Daddy issues. That was a thought. “Yeah, but when I give her space she acts like everything is fine. Doesn’t do what . . . two people in a relationship should.”
“Are you even in a relationship? Even if you kissed or shared a lovey moment, it doesn’t qualify as a relationship.”
“True, but we have to—” I stopped. There was no way to explain it to her without telling her the whole truth, of how a relationship was a necessity in order for the succubus to live. I fell back into rhythm with the punching bag. “Forget it. I told her off anyway.”
Natalie stopped. “You what?”
“I told her I didn’t care anymore. She wants to act five years old, fine, but it won’t be at my expense.”
Her brows rose, breath fanning out. “Didn’t think you had it in you, but good for you, I guess.”
“Thanks.”
“But, next time, try to remember one thing: love isn’t expressed the same between everybody, and some people don’t know how to show it at all. My dad? He used to beat my mom until she was black and blue and in return, she took that out on us. But she still loved us, even when Dad altered the way she saw people, she still showed us love in the smallest of gestures. Sometimes, with certain people, you have to look at the little things that might seem insignificant.”
At that, I stopped, breathing hard, turning her words over in my head. And when they threatened to make sense—threatened to make me question if I’d been wrong to say what I had to Jera, I picked back up with the punching bag, saying only, “Jeez Nat, when did you become a relationship guru?”
But that night, when I got home and collapsed into bed, I couldn’t get her words out of my thoughts. And the succubus herself, she invaded my dreams.
******
Plush bedding, silent night, what better time to recline and wait? She lay in her boudoir, arms crossed atop her head as she gazed blankly up at the upside down spires. So often did she wonder if one day one of them would fall, pierce right through her beating heart—ah, but then what would he visit her chamber for?
As though summoned through her dismal thoughts, there came a soft knock on her door, and moments later, the scent of rain and shine spilled over her.
For a moment, she dared pretend he came to visit her through yearning alone. That when he crossed to her bedside and gazed down at her, it was in want of her—not what was inside of her.
“How predictable your visits have become,” she murmured quietly up at him. “All for that female.”
“She is your sister,” the Maker said.
“Your lover.” When it’d been her who’d been by his side from the start.
At his silence, neither denial nor concurrence, she plastered on a smile as shallow as her love for Ophelia. How helpless was she to deny this male anything? How pitiful was her affection for his bright eyes?
“How many times will it take for you to learn?” She searched his gaze. Clouded with desperation. “Ophelia cannot be healed. The power she harnesses is too great for her body, and no matter whose heart you place into her, her energy will always lash out and destroy the organ. And her body can only withstand so much.”
Pain entered his eyes, wings of grey-iridescence darkening. “I will not lose her.”
What she failed to say—was unable to say—was how her body, too, could withstand only so much. Her heart, it was the only one Ophelia’s body did not reject, as they were cut of the same cloth.
“This will be the last time I ask this of you,” the Maker whispered with a voice so sad and sweet, she almost mistakened him for the child he once was, the one that would chase her through fields of everlights and teach her how to count to infinity by the beat of his heart.
“And what of its inevitable failure? Could you stand by and watch my sister perish?” If only he could create a heart that would sustain with his ability alone, but she shuddered to think of the first time he’d tried.
“This time will be different,” he promised.
“And why is that?”
With the snap of a finger, a glass vial appeared in his hand. Inside flowed a crimson liquid that could only be blood, which was impossible, as Ophelia had demolished all life on this world. Unless he’d retrieved it from another.
“In this vial could be the answer to Ophelia’s sickness,” came his hopeful reply. “The blood and essence of one nearly as strong as I. With it, I can create a barrier around the new heart to forcibly suppress her dark energy.”
What could go wrong? she thought to herself bitterly.
“Jera, dear one, will you offer me your heart one last time?” He extended his hand. Kindness, warmth, all that was lovely and pure, how these natures saturated him.
Smiling, imagining they were in the ballroom below and that he’d finally asked her for but one dance, she placed her hand in his.
For him, she knew no objection.
For him, she would offer her heart as many times as he asked—even if he did nothing more than give it away.
Ch. 20
Confusion. Thoughts blotty.
Jai came to with a head as heavy as lead, her body singing and humming all over. Where was she? Her tongue, it felt swollen behind her teeth.
All inconsequential in light of the fact she was sure she was being watched.
“I trust you’re feeling better now?” Inoli.
Creaking her eyes open, she saw that she was in her suite, the dark elf seated on the lip of the bed, a glass of water outstretched to her.
A glass Jai found herself hurrying to grab, its contents sliding down her throat in a cool bliss, and when it was gone, she grunted.
Her head, it swam.
“You’re going to need a few more days of rest, I’m afraid,” the elf spoke. “But other than that, allow me to congratulate you on the successful merge. You’re a first among, well, a few. I know you must feel awful.”
“When do we leave?” she asked with a thick tongue.
Inoli’s lips parted, then a light chuckle fell from them. “That is the last thing you should—”
“What’s next?” she demanded. This sudden agitation, ire scratching at her mind, she could only attribute it to having finally understood the irreversible truth of what she’d done. She didn’t believe in souls, but whatever mysterious force that made a human human, she’d had it taken from her, tainted, infused, then shoved back inside of her anew. Darkened. Not that she felt particularly evil.
All speculation.
“Next would be assigning you your gears.”
She glanced half-heartedly around the room in search of Graves. “Gears?”
“Yes. I will show you when you’re strong enough to walk—Jai, please. Rest.”
She’d already pushed herself up with a sapping bout of strength she didn’t have, flopping back against the headboard, collecting her breath before shoving her feet over the side. She used the bed’s post to drag herself to a stand.
“Where’s Graves?” she asked.
She hadn’t forgotten what he’d done. His presence in the back of her mind, whispering commands into it with disturbing ease.
“He’s handling other business currently.”
“Take me to the gears.”
“What’s the rush? We have a week before you are to set out. It might be best we wait for Jera and Peter to return so you all get the same presentation.”
“I’d like to know everything as soon as possible so I can prepare myself.”
Inoli took a deep breath, then released it in a long wind. What was so important that she couldn’t get an early presentation? What more, did she not know that the best way to prepare her was to get her acquainted with this supposed gear early so she wouldn’t blank out entirely come time to use it?
The elf must have come to the conclusion just as Jai thought it because with a sigh, she stood and inclined her head for her to follow.
Weak, bones of jello, she followed numbly.
They walked the long halls and at some point, she must have leaned into Inoli for support because by the time they arrived at the designated room, the taller woman’s arm was cast around her, the only thing keeping her upright.
“Before dark elves were driven to the brink of extinction on Earth, they would often possess something called a shala.” Inoli led them into a room of glass encasements like you’d find at a museum and the artifacts enclosed inside of them looked the part of ancient and untouchable. Everything from a small, simple dagger to a spear carved with unfound symbols.
“They’re soulbound,” Inoli said, taking her over to the enclosure with the tiny dagger. “Tied to the soul until released upon their death.”
Jai studied the dagger, its jagged and interrupted head. It didn’t look all remarkable at surface value.
“I want you to pick one,” Inoli instructed.
Jai frowned. “Why?”
“Though you may have sold your humanity, you are not superhuman. When you enter the Shatters, you have to level the playing field in every way possible—even if it means corrupting yourself further.”
“What do you mean?” How could she become more tainted than she already was?
“Soulbound weapons, Jai, are deadly. Not only to their targets but to their wielders. Upon each use, different weapons damage different aspects of their wielders.”
Everything truly did come with a price when it came to them, didn’t it?
Jai glanced around the room, unsure what to do with that news. On the one hand, if she used the weapon, there was a higher level of protection against whatever she faced in this other world. On the other hand, that protection meant squat if, in the grand scheme of things, she was harming herself just by using the thing.
“You’ll only want to use it in times of life or death, where the alternative outweighs the consequence—”
“That one.” She pointed to one of the many disclosed weapons, knowing without a doubt it was the one. Not that there was a moment of revelation. It didn’t call to her or beckon her.
Simply put, it looked the easiest to carry without being tiny and laughable like, say, the baby dagger.
Inoli’s face fell at her choice. “A-are you sure?”
Jai crossed her arms, leaning against the wooden encasement. She nodded. “Without a doubt.”
She didn’t think that particular weapon had an official name. It was a chain with two blades linked at either end via a loop at the hilt. The chain wasn’t too long and neither were the blades themselves. It looked like something she could easily fasten at her back and remove when needed.
“That shala . . .” Inoli crossed over to the glass, seeming to shiver. “Its price, you of all people may not appreciate.”
“I think I’ll manage,” she assured.
Inoli shook her head. “Perhaps, perhaps not. But you should know, its price would be your sanity.”
“My sanity? I think some might say I lost that years ago.”
“This isn’t a joke, Jai. If this is truly your choice, understand that upon each usage, your mind will deteriorate in ways not even I can predict. Your mind, which is a crucial element to the mission. Unfortunately, just like the bond, this is not something I can force on you. If you choose this, I must abide, but I’m telling you now, you will regret it.”
“What’s regret but a little fun?” she asked. She’d already sold her soul to the devil. She didn’t see this getting any worse. Besides, if it was that distasteful, it was likely equally as powerful.
But Inoli seemed anxious to move along, disappointment in her voice. “If that is your wish, so be it. Though there is one more thing before you have to rest.” Beneath one of the enclosures, she opened a drawer and pulled out the last thing Jai could have expected.
A metal helmet that looked like a cross between a motorcyclist’s headpiece and some virtual headset. When Inoli extended it to her, Jai found it was heavier than it looked. Confirmed when she put the cold material on. Its exterior was a solid chrome, the face made of black, tinted glass. The slate only descended halfway, stopping just above the brink of her nose, leaving her mouth and nose exposed. The back of it covered her head and nape entirely.
“When entering the Shatters, due to its . . . location, there is a drastic change in atmospheric pressure, which in turn can cause—”
“Intracranial pressure,” Jai guessed. “But it would take time before that happened, right?”
“Some things are catalyzed in that world.”
Duly noted. When the human body experienced intracranial pressure for extended periods of time, there were often cases of bilateral papilledema—momentary blindness—until the swollen optic discs resettled.
“But I’ve used my magic to calibrate it, something you’ll have to do on your own every 36 hours to reset its effects. You don’t want all of that pressure to slam into you at once, the longer you stay in that world. Here,” She f
licked a tiny latch at the side of the headgear and through the tinted glass, Jai saw numbers appear. “Given time is an uncertain concept in that world, you’ll want to go by this clock alone to determine when to recalibrate. Do you have any questions?”
Aside from a million?
There was literally nothing better this creature could have showed her than the magically enhanced tech helmet.
“Yes,” Jai said. “How many more toys do you have here?”
Ch. 21
I left that evening in the middle of a shift. I told myself it was so that I wouldn’t be on the road tomorrow when it was supposed to snow, but as I got in the car and headed towards Mary-Luanne’s house, I knew it was because mid-evening was the shop’s busiest point.
And no one would notice I’d left.
Under other circumstances, I’d have asked Jera to come with me—anyone, really—but when remembering my talk with Natalie, I’d thought better of it. I would do this alone. Which was how it should have been. This deed, it was for me to bear.
Mary-Luanne’s house was the same as before, untouched by snow for a good radius, but there was something more lively about the radiant green grass and hanging vines dangling in front of the door. I tried not to dwell on it, telling myself it wasn’t because Breone was likely doing better.
But when I knocked on the door and the little only lady and her pixie answered, I couldn’t deny the truth as I took in the duo.
Breone hovered above Mary-Luanne’s shoulder, vibrant wings flapping as fast as a hummingbird’s. They’d gained color to them, no longer translucent but a stark purple with red streaks for veins. Her wings weren’t the only things to gain color, but also her cheeks, her eyes. She absolutely shined.
“I told you he’d come, Mary!” she said gleefully, flying from one side of the lady to the other.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Have you found someone already? Mary and I made a large batch of cookies to greet him!”