I Am the Storm

by Trisha Lynn Halaas

  32

  The lock releases its hold with a click. This door swings open easily. Assuming it would stick, our force makes a loud thunk against its hinges. We peek out. Lush greenery surrounds us. We are deep in a wooded forest. It’s getting dark now. I think it’s dusk. The trees are dense. Yet, we can hear water. Perhaps a Crystal waterfall; it doesn’t seem far away.

  “After you,” Brooks says with a gentlemanly wave.

  “Thank you, kind sir,” I respond.

  He kneels on one knee and helps me prop myself up on the other. He hefts me through the entrance. I tumble on the uneven forest floor. Brooks swings his body up and out with ease, an acrobat in a circus. The door swings shut behind us with a soft click. I do a spin and find only more trees in every direction, no glowing Holy Path in sight.

  “I don’t know if it glows. Doubtful. That would make this way too easy,” I reckon.

  “Ask Persephone,” Brooks says with a nod to my bag.

  “Great idea, Brooks,” a muffled Perseph responds.

  I pull her out and she materializes. Looks as if she’s fully prepared for our expedition. She’s got on an old-fashioned safari exploration outfit. Khaki stir-ups, tall lace-up hiking boots, and a breezy cream blouse. She’s wearing round magnified coke-bottle eyeglasses and a beekeeper’s hat, complete with netting. She’s Jane surveying the woods before she discovers Tarzan.

  “What do you have for us, Seph?” I ask her.

  She waves her hand and a scroll appears. She unfurls it to reveal another map. This one is much more detailed than Iris’s. Oh yeah, Iris.

  “Seph, did you get a message from Iris?” I ask.

  “Oh yes. She made it back with no problems. She’s got Pandora’s box locked up safe. All is well in Dark Shire.” I breathe a sigh of relief. Good.

  “Okay, show us the map,” I say.

  Seph spreads the map out on the ground. Brooks and I kneel down next to it. It looks 3D. It depicts our exact location with a flashing light. Into the tiny trees adorned on the paper I see a gold glowing path.

  “Seph, will it glow for us?” I ask.

  “No,” she replies. A tiny pinprick in my hopeful pink balloon. Pop.

  “Ugh.”

  “It’s going to be okay, though. You’ve got one better,” she tells me. “The nails will gravitate toward the path. You won’t see it, but your shoes will get you there. And you will know when you’ve reached it.”

  “That’s cool,” Brooks says.

  “Yeah, I’m pretty attached to these things,” I say with a glance at my sandals, which choose this moment to morph into tall stylish hiking boots for the terrain. They’re similar to Persephone’s although still made of what appears to be flexible hammered metal.

  “Back to the map,” Persephone tells us.

  Brooks and I head in her direction and look at the mini-forest splayed out in front of us.

  “Doesn’t look far,” Brooks says, pointing to where we currently reside and the opening of the Blessed Path.

  “Doesn’t matter. We have to assume Damien has made his way up here. And, who knows? The others as well,” I answer.

  “True,” he says.

  “Do you see them, Seph?” I ask.

  Her radius is pretty extensive. We haven’t tested her exact boundaries, but she should be able to supply us with immediate surroundings. She vanishes into thin air but reappears moments later.

  “Nothing of note yet,” she replies. “Empty woods. I do think I may know where they would come from.” She points to the map. “You see, the path from Crystal Proper empties into the forest here…” Her finger touches a clearing to the right.

  It’s smack-dab in the middle between our current place and the clearing to the Blessed Path. Naturally.

  “I’m gonna get you to that path, Vee. I’ll distract or hurt whoever shows up,” Brooks says. “Persephone, they can’t see her once she’s standing on the Holy Ground, right?”

  “Right,” Persephone confirms, adjusting her googly eyeglasses. She nods her head and the beekeeper netting falls down. She replaces it.

  “Are there any markings to lead the way?” I ask.

  “No, but you’ve got your watch, right?” she asks.

  I blindly feel through my bag until my hand lands on an ancient gold pocket watch. It was a family heirloom, many great-grandfathers ago.

  “It has a compass,” she says. “Open it up.” I flick open the tiny round golden door that protects the watch. I had never noticed that the inside of the door contained a compass.

  “I’ll give you a list of the number of steps between each direction change. Count and then adjust, count and then adjust,” she says. “It’ll get you there.” I pull out a notebook and jot down our instructions.

  “‘Nothin’ left to it, but do it,’” I say. The saying attempts to wiggle a memory free. Who told me that? The figure is there and definitely male, but features are indistinguishable. It’ll come back. Can’t concern myself with the originator of that adage at the moment.

  “Should we do our handshake?” Seph asks, barely containing her excitement.

  “Sure, Seph, count us down.”

  She does and on three: “Let’s do it.” We all chime in.

  Persephone disappears and I put my Slab away. Brooks leads the way with the map and compass. I do not feel a pull in my hiking boots, yet. We follow the steps and shift direction according to my quickly jotted notes. We seem to be making good time, which is great because we are rapidly losing sunlight. We continue on.

  “What comes after this?” Brooks asks. Seems as if he’s been holding on to that question for a while. He’s a quiet one, he is.

  “That’s kind of a mystery, Brooks. Once I get to the tomb, I have no idea what awaits me.” Brooks stops and turns to face me.

  “You’ve got to be careful, Vee,” he says in the moonlight. Nightfall is official.

  He tenderly moves a lock of hair from my face. “I can’t lose you.”

  He leans down and our lips meet, or I should say, reacquaint. The memory from the beach comes rushing back. It’s muscle memory, but somehow this kiss is even better. After a while, probably too long, yet not long enough, we part lips.

  I look up into his eyes. Our gaze says more than words.

  “I will. I promise,” I say, finally breaking the silence.

  He leans down and kisses me again.

  33

  We are interrupted by a twig snap. It’s not in the direct vicinity. We both look around and see nothing. A disembodied voice comes through.

  “Oh, Levi’s gonna love this. Just like he did the last one.” Damien.

  I swiftly shove the map and compass into my purse.

  “Damien, you should just start minding your own business,” I say to the darkness. “Maybe, oh I don’t know, become your own man. Leave Levi and his evil business aside. You’re more than this.”

  I remember a time when I would call Damien a friend. Sure, it was before I knew who Levi was, but Damien was a confidante. Long, lonely nights when Levi commanded the stage, Damien made sure I had privacy and someone to talk to. No, it was never romantic.

  “Lyvs, come on,” he replies. “You know I have a vow.”

  “A vow,” I laugh, sadistically. “To Satan. Wow.”

  He emerges from the shadows. He has a slim metal pole fitted with an impossibly sharp point in his right hand. It has a leather cord wrapped around it. A javelin.

  “What? Run track in high school, Damien?” Brooks asks.

  “No, Brooks,” Damien laughs, facetiously. “This javelin belonged to an old friend of Levi. You might know of him. He was a big guy. Name was Goliath.”

  Oh great. As in, David and Goliath. One good thing: pretty sure in the Biblical entry, the underdog, David, won. On the flip side, that particular javelin slaughtered many a foe before David came along.

  “Uh, didn’t he lose?” Brooks asks, voicing my thoughts.

  Damien launches the javelin without a word.
r />   Brooks expertly ducks the metal point with ease. He pulls something from his pocket. I think I know what it is. It’s at this point I notice the leather cord on Damien’s weapon is attached to his wrist. He pulls back and the javelin soars back to his hand, a giant magical yoyo trick.

  “You know what I’m here for, Lyv,” Damien states. “Some footwear.”

  “Yeah, I know all about what you minions have been sent to retrieve, and it’s not going to happen. Not in my lifetime anyway,” I reply.

  I look back over my shoulder at Brooks and see his fishhook transform into the spear. I swiftly kick off my boots and the nails find their place home. One in each hand, I swing them toward Damien. He bats them away easily with the javelin.

  “Gotta do better than that, Lyvs,” Damien snarls before releasing the javelin in my direction.

  I use the nails that have made their way back to my palms to dodge the javelin with a handspring on metal points. It sticks straight up from the ground three inches from where I land, then swings back to Damien.

  “This is really getting old,” I say to Damien with a deep sigh. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

  A nail shoots toward him. It drives through his shoulder and attaches to a massive tree trunk behind him. He cries out in pain. The javelin drops to the ground. I saunter toward him and shoot the other nail in his untouched shoulder. He’s completely pinned to the tree. His cries of pain almost make me smile. Almost. Hey—I’m not Levi.

  About three inches from his face, I point underneath his chin and tell him: “When you get back to Hell, please let your master know he’s never getting these skates.”

  Brooks has appeared behind me with his spear.

  “I’m leaving now, Damien.” I tell him. “Like I said, I have a prior engagement.”

  “You’re not going to make it. You really think I’m the last obstacle?” he asks through gritted teeth. “Levi will get those skates, and you—one way or another, bitch.”

  I look at Brooks.

  “Will you do the honors, Brooksey?” I ask.

  “My pleasure, Vee,” he responds before swiftly stabbing his spear through Damien’s heart.

  He disappears from the tree. Back to Hell. That’s my guess, anyway. The nails are back to boots. I slide them on and pull out the map and pocket watch.

  “Let’s find that yellow brick road, shall we, Dorothy?” Brooks asks, linking his arm through mine.

  “Lions and tigers and bears, oh my,” I cry.

  We start off when a muffled voice begins singing: “We’re off to see the wizard, the Wonderful Wizard of Oz…”

  Brooks and I share a smile as we head deeper into the woods in search of the Holy Path—and eventually—the tomb. We’re almost there. I can taste it. The trek through the trees begins to get steeper and the compass starts to fail, its tiny dial spinning in rapid circles.

  “What now?” I ask my bag.

  Seph replies: “Now you rely on your shoes-ies.”

  As the last word seeps through the fabric of my purse, my shoes begin to pull. It turns into a very strong tug. Forceful. I struggle to keep up with their momentum. Brooks follows closely behind. It’s almost comical. My feet seem to be yards in front of my body. I struggle to remain upright. Brooks has no trouble keeping up. We travel through trees thick and thin; the forest floor grows steeper and the sound of water grows louder.

  “I think we’re almost there,” I call through the rushing sounds surrounding us. “Shoes are slowing down.”

  Just as the last word escapes my lips, the shoes halt. Sure enough, there is a path in these dense woods. No, it’s not glowing as the yellow brick road seems to. The moonlight, however, does cast a grey sheen on the forest floor. The path snakes up the steep incline toward the Crystal cliffs, and more importantly, the tomb. Shane.

  We hike the trail side-by-side. It’s twisty and becomes more and more vertical. We struggle up the winding trajectory for quite a while. Suddenly, the incline gives way to a flat clearing, behind which stands a giant red rock wall. The cliffs.

  From what I see, there is no way continuing upward besides climbing the rock. We move to the mountainside. It goes straight up. So high, you can’t make out the summit. The dark doesn’t help.

  “Shit,” I say. “How am I gonna do that?”

  “Got any clips or rope?” Brooks asks.

  “I’ve got the nails, and I have used them to climb before. It’s going to be time consuming,” I reply, peering up past the rock to the night sky. The stars shimmer back at me. As I contemplate the ascent above, one of the stars shoots across the sky.

  “Did you see that, Brooks? A shooting star,” I call.

  “No—I must’ve missed it,” he replies, looking upward.

  “That wasn’t a star,” Persephone’s voice says. “Look closer.”

  I do and see that the white glittery star hasn’t disappeared. In fact, it moves along the skyline growing in size as it descends.

  “She’s right, that’s no star,” I tell Brooks.

  “Well, what is it? A bomb?” he asks with concern.

  “Nope, it’s my ride,” I reply.

  The “star” begins to resemble a glittery flying white horse. Charley has arrived. She settles down between us. I rub her massive head.

  “Oh, how I’ve missed you, girl,” I punctuate with a soft kiss.

  Brooks looks on aghast.

  “I always knew they were real,” he says in awe, while patting her torso.

  “Well, you were right. This one’s a friend of mine. We go way back, don’t we, Charley?” I reply, turning my head to make sure she’s still in good health. She nuzzles her head on my shoulder while I look her over. No boo-boos to be seen. The vet would give her an A+. I look up at the mountain again and realize it’s time.

  “Brooks, I can never repay you for everything you have done for me,” I tell him.

  “I’m going with you. She can fit us both.”

  “I’m sure she can, Brooksey. But, to be brutally honest, I must do this myself. I need you to go back to Turquoise where it’s safe, until I come find you. Because, wherever I’m going, I will make it back to you.”

  “Lyvia, I just want you to know—”

  “No,” I cut him off. “This isn’t goodbye. This is ‘see ya later.’”

  I step onto my tippy-toes and give him a long, languid kiss. We pull apart, and I jump on Charley’s back before he can try to say goodbye again. We turn to the sky and lift off.

  Through the wind, I hear his faint voice: “I love you, Vee.”

  “I love you too, Brooksey,” I cry, hoping he can hear those four final words before I enter the unknown.

  If anything does happen to me, I need him to know that.

  34

  The journey upward is smooth. Charley’s large muscled body flies through the air as if she was made of silk. We fly higher and higher. The anticipation is killing me. I have no idea what waits for me at the tomb. I spot waterfalls to my left and right. The red rock seems to end shortly. Charley breaches the precipice and sets us down on flat rock. I look to my right and see the boulder. The very boulder I secured so long ago. Seems a lifetime ago.

  I made it.

  I kiss Charley goodbye. She nuzzles me before lifting off to do unicorn things, I assume. I look out over the water. The ocean is mean today. The giant waves fight each other like bickering siblings. The black sky has begun to lighten, dreary grey now. I realize daybreak is around the corner.

  I turn around and make my way to the boulder that guards my brother’s body. Once I reach the rock, I take off a shoe. It spins to reveal a Holy Nail. I’m about to drive it in the crack between the boulder and the mountain, when I hear flapping. I spin around only to be greeted with the terrorizing vision my friends have described. Six massive, ghoulish faces surround Levi’s head. I know for a fact, this time—he’s real.

  “Missed you, Lyvs,” the head that resembles Levi says.

  “We all have,” a blob fish-lookin
g head adds.

  “Shut up,” Levi sneers. “I told you all to zip it and let Lyvs and I speak in private.”

  The mouths are replaced with crude zippers at this command. Not a peep comes from any of them.

  “Wow, Levi, had I known your true form, I would’ve married you years ago,” I say sarcastically, while attempting to keep the rising bile in my stomach down.

  “Lyvs, let’s not get nasty. I hear you slipped my goons.”

  “Yeah, some goons you got there,” I laugh cruelly.

  “Well, they’re not the most intelligent, I’ll give you that, but they are loyal,” he replies.

  “Well, they didn’t get the skates, and neither are you,” I say, indignantly crossing my arms over my chest. A nail still resides in my right hand. I stand with one bare foot and one boot.

  “You’re right about that.” He returns my cruel laugh. “Couldn’t touch those if my existence depended on it, but I think you’ve already figured that out.”

  I remember my parent’s house and how he forced Brooks to get them. Then had Damien on the task. What’s going on with these skates?

  “So what do you want, Levi? You’re not going to stop me from getting into that tomb.”

  “I know that, Lyvs. Why would I want to stop you? You’re about to be in my house. It’s all I ever wanted in the first place.”

  With that, I hear a snap and see that Levi has disappeared into thin air.

  Okay, back to the tomb. I walk toward it, nail at the ready. I drive it into the space. It vibrates wildly and pushes with an unseen force. It continues drilling when I lift my hand off.

  My other boot swishes into the other nail and drives itself into the bottom crevice as before. The boulder sneaks out, an inch at a time. When the opening is large enough, I peer inside.

  I notice with a huge sigh of relief; Shane’s body has not moved. He is still draped in the cloth and resting on the driftwood. I’m overwhelmed with emotions. I can barely think but notice deep swells of tears streaming down my face. I don’t even realize I’ve been crying.