by K. R. Bowman
“Sloane, what don’t you understand about me saying, leave me alone?” his voice came out hollow and hard.
My heart thumped loudly in my ears, and I was having trouble swallowing. I was able to squeak out, “What happened? What happened those two weeks you were gone?”
He never released his stare. I could see anger, fear, and hate coming through his eyes, but what I could see the most was sadness. He blinked and glanced away. The grief from his eyes flowed onto his features. The hard lines of his face cracked. His mask of certainty tainted by his emotions.
He shook his head, “I’m sorry. I can’t tell you, but don’t worry about it.” He took a step closer to me, and this time he brought his hand up slowly, brushing my hair away from my face. As if the tender touch could erase the harsh, angry words. “It’s something I’m going to have to figure out on my own.”
“Let me help you. You know I can. My powers have grown since you’ve left,” I pleaded with him.
“Sloane, I know you probably could help, but you have all these powers for a reason, and I won’t have you waste them on my problems,” he shook his head again and turned me in the direction of the dining hall, “time for you to go back.” He pushed me toward the archway.
I stopped and looked back at him, “Just ask me for help if you get too deep, okay?”
The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he nodded. The darkness in the hall covered him, so I couldn’t see his eyes. “Go on,” he waited for me to continue down the hall before going back to the patio.
I traveled back inside the loud dining hall, picking out Ashlen and Harris at a far table in a corner with food piled high. I pushed through the crowds of people and finally made it to the table. Ashlen pulled a seat out for me. I sat beside her, and she pushed a plate in front of me. I felt like I was sitting in the background with the world passing by.
I couldn’t get the way Graham’s eyes had been so haunted out of my mind. He was planning something, and I knew he would act fast. I hoped he didn’t do anything stupid.
17
Graham stepped out onto the stone patio. The moon casting deep shadows along the brick buildings. The small amount of light glinted off his bare arms. The night breeze blew strands of his hair across his shoulders and face. The air caressed his skin.
He took a deep breath of the night air, maybe one of the last he would take.
Worry and sorrow creased his usually smooth features. He was going to need to plan. He paced across the stones, trying to come up with something that he could maybe do, something that would save her and keep her safe.
He was going to have to move fast so no one would know what he was up to because he was sure someone would try to stop him. He had no doubt about that.
He never thought he would be contacted by them, that they would have something to say. Who knew they could even say something?
His shoulders and back tightened with the stress coursing through his body. His mind spun with questions.
“If I’m going to act, it should be now.” He tilted his head back to look at the moon, the tiny sliver barely giving off any light.
He made his decision, turning from the door that leads to the dining hall, and going to another door that would take him to his room. He moved quickly through the door and up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Walking quickly down the hall to his room, he did not pass a soul. He entered his room quietly and grabbed his bag to pack. He stuffed it with some food, more knives, some matches, and a small blanket, also putting some weapons into the bag. He strapped the bag onto his back, tightening it across his chest. He picked up his bow and arrows as he left. He went down the same way he had gone up to the room. He stepped out onto the stone patio and in the direction that would take him away from people. Quietly walking away from the main building, he made his way to a small clearing.
He took another deep breath, pulling the air in deep to fill his whole chest. His chest and shoulders moved up and down as the air filled his lungs. He turned his face up to the night sky. The space around him became charged, bits of electricity flickering around his body. The air crackled and sizzled. His ears filled with a humming noise that changed into a loud droning sound. He spread his arms out wide.
Electricity erupted from the ground, traveled up his legs, along his body, and out his fingertips. A bright light erupted from his heart and burned through his veins down his arms transforming the light into fire. The light and energy cascaded from his fingers, forming a large orb suspended in the air directly in front of him; it glistened and glowed. The energy powering it hummed. The orb hovered for a moment then began to bend and lengthen, forming into wings. A body could be distinguished. The skin along the body moved and shifted into scales and gold feathers. The wings spread out wide, flexing, and stretching. The large head rose and spread its mouth wide, exposing rows of gleaming white sharp teeth. Smoke curled out its nostrils. The enormous black eyes turned and blinked at its creator.
He patted the creature’s scaly neck. He made sure his pack was tight then climbed on top of the giant dragon’s back, making sure to sit above the wings, so he had a good hold around its neck.
“Alright, little man, let’s do some hunting.”
The Czar looked around him then, spread his wings, and pushed off with his feet, soaring into the night sky. He turned in a wide circle and aligned himself toward the shadowed mountain that sat in the North like a dark beacon.
New York City, N.Y
6:00 p.m.
W.A.F.F. Broadcast Station
A woman with short dark brown hair, wearing a dark blue tailored suit, sat at a stained cherry desk with a stack of neatly placed papers on the right-hand side. The news anchor kept her eyes on the camera, waiting for her performance to begin. The cameraman started counting down the seconds before air time. The red light flicked on, and the woman quickly set a compliant smile on her doctor-enriched face.
“Good evening everyone, we have a special report tonight that is a cautionary warning to all of us, and will be disturbing to younger viewers. We have been in contact with local Police and residents about their neighborhood disappearances, the death of pets, vandalism, thefts, and other forms of violence. The findings are disturbing, to say the least, but our problems are a part of a national crisis. Violence of all kinds are rising all across the nation,” she paused dramatically.
“Police have confirmed that muggings, as well as senseless beatings on streets, have risen twenty percent from last year. Homicide has had a ten percent increase. Car accidents have even increased fifteen percent, with motorists claiming complete loss of control of their vehicles. Those involved have vehicles of varying makes, models, and production years. The Police Chief says they are adding more men on the streets for prevention. The added manpower should help deviate criminals, and hopefully, save on time if there is an emergency.” The broadcaster brought her hands together and pursed her lips.
“The police have stated to take the usual precautions during your daily tasks. Make sure to park and walk in well-lit areas. Keep all doors and windows locked and secured. Bring your pets indoors. Most importantly, do not travel anywhere by yourself and possibly avoid being out after dark. It seems these monsters are using the darkness as a shield.” She shook her head in anger.
“We will be keeping a close eye on the increase in violence and keep you posted on any more occurrences. Please feel free to call our hotline if you have any information on this story...”
18
That night after eating, I made my way to the library. It had been almost a week since I had last been there.
I found my man, Clifford, where I had first met him at the big table in the center of the library hiding behind a stack of books. His large glasses seemed to have made his eyes appear larger. His bushy eyebrows were bushier, and he seemed to hunch over slightly more. When he spotted me, he hopped off his chair and came around the table to take my hand.
“Sloane, where have you been off to?” His eyes twinkle
d with happiness when he noticed me.
“I know I’m sorry that it has been so long since I’ve been here. I have no excuse except for my memory.”
He grinned, “Oh dear, I have heard about your adventures, so I forgive you, but I’ve wanted to tell you that I took it upon myself to keep your research going during your absence.” He immediately turned from me and headed down an aisle.
I knew he was heading for my table, so I didn’t try to keep up. I wound through the aisles of books, running my fingers over their spines, feeling the rough leather and paper that made the covers; dust and sand covered each shelf and the floor. I came out at the end of the aisle where my table was placed near the windows. The papers, books, and journals were still where I had left them. Clifford was rifling through the papers like some kind of fiend. He pulled out one very crinkled paper; the paper’s edge had been torn away and was now a light tea color.
Clifford brandished the paper in my face, “Come, come look at what I found. I think you will enjoy this very much.”
I smiled softly and walked around the table to stand beside him. He handed the paper to me. It was a journal page dated 1990 the year my father had disappeared, but it wasn’t signed by anyone.
* * *
17 November 1990
Today was a slow one. I miss home. I miss movies and air conditioning. Cars. Regular shower times. I even miss school. I wish I was at home with Anna. I hope she’s okay. She must think I’m the worst…
Training was as usual today. My Protector abilities have begun as the training has gotten more strenuous. I have been using Artemis a lot more lately. She helps me get out of trouble. I try not to use her when I don’t need her, but it’s hard not to use her for the little things too. These aides are supposed to help me, but I think some of them can cause more problems because I rely on them so much. Masada has yet to be used. He is patiently waiting, though.
My father passed the aides on to me to help me with my training and for when I become a Hunter and then maybe the Leader. He always keeps Willow by his side. He says he will never part with her, which I guess I’ll have to live with. He says that even in death, he will not part with her. I don’t understand his reluctance or stubbornness about her, oh well. Jacob was given Yumi, which I really didn’t think was fair. I’m the best at archery. Yumi is beautiful, and it always hits its intended mark, much like Willow.
* * *
The rest of the paper had been burned or torn. Wrinkles creased my forehead with confusion and concentration.
“Can you tell me what this means exactly?”
Clifford smiled and nodded excitedly, “Yes, of course, the author is giving you the names of their aides.”
“Okay, I know it’s a stupid question, but what is an aide?”
“Well, that’s what your necklace is, Artemis is her name?”
“Uh, yeah, how’d you know that?”
“Well, I figured that out from reading one of the other pages, but I assumed you had learned her name already?”
“Yes, I did learn its name. Um, why do you call the necklace her?”
“They have always called the aides a female or male. It is a way to hide the true identity of the aide to keep the name safe from those who don’t own it. As I’m sure you have learned, the name is an immensely powerful tool in using the aide,” his eyes watched my face to see if I understood. “Of course, if someone learns the name, but is not a part of the family, the aide cannot be used to the greatest of its ability, only because their blood is not an ingredient.”
I nodded to show I was listening, “So according to this, my dagger’s name is Masada?”
Clifford took the page from my hand and scanned the page again. He began nodding, “Yes, I believe that is what this document is telling us.” He handed the page back to me.
“Would you know where…” I looked back at the page, “Willow and Yumi are then?”
“Hmm, well, no. Jacob disappeared, and I think along with him, Yumi went too. Now, as for your grandfather,” Clifford scratched his head, “I think Willow was indeed buried with him just like he wanted. Charles was buried underneath this building in the hall of legends.”
My eyebrows rose, and my mouth forming a small O, “There’s a cemetery underneath this building?” My voice kind of squeaked when it came out.
Clifford nodded his wrinkled head, “Yes, it has been there since this Realm began. The tomb was built first, and when they decided to build the city, they put the main building on top as a way to secure the restfulness of the bodies below.”
Just hearing him talk of bodies underneath us, made my skin want to crawl off my body and hide under a rock. I’m sorry, but I get squeamish with talk of blood and dead things. I can’t help it. I shivered, and goosebumps appeared along my arms.
“So, is there a way I might be able to retrieve Willow?”
This time it was Clifford’s eyes that grew larger, “Retrieve Willow? Why would you want to get her?”
I shrugged, “Wouldn’t she be helpful if we’re going to have to do some serious damage to the Nightlins?”
Clifford turned his back to me to look out the window. He stayed quiet for several minutes before he turned back to me. “I think you might be right, but I know that it won’t be easy to retrieve Willow. If I remember correctly, Charles was a sneaky fellow, and like your father says in that note, Charles would never give Willow up to anyone even in death. He might be stingy.”
“Alright, I will need a plan.”
Footsteps echoed in the library; they were moving fast between the aisles. Stephen appeared at the end of an aisle, searching for someone, he spotted us and quickly made his way toward us.
“Have you seen Graham?”
My heart instantly pumped harder.
“No, what’s wrong?”
“No one can find him. We’ve been looking all over the grounds for him.”
“The last time I saw him was at dinner. He was out on the patio, but I haven’t seen him since. That was hours ago.”
Stephen ran his fingers through his dark hair and then balled his fists. “This is when I hate it when we don’t have fucking technology like in the Norm, we could be using fucking cell phones! Instead, we have to live like dumb ass cavemen.” His sea-colored eyes were pinpoints of anger. I knew exactly how he felt.
“So, what can we do?”
Stephen growled, “Absolutely nothing. We have no way of finding him or contacting him. Damn Realm.” A long line of expletives flowed out of his mouth.
“Wait!” I pulled my necklace up and over the collar of my shirt, “I can use this.”
I took off through the hallways until I found the patio. The crescent moon was beginning to disappear. The cool night air was refreshing after being in the moldy library. I stood on the edge of the stone and held Artemis out in front of me. Stephen arrived a few seconds later and stood behind me. Clifford announced his arrival by way of breathing heavily.
I whispered to her, “Artemis, find Graham.” The needle started spinning rapidly around then, slowed. It swung to the North and stilled. A mountain broke the line of the horizon. I looked at Stephen and Clifford.
“She points to the North at that mountain.”
Stephen’s eyes flickered to the mountain and then away. He grumbled some more. Pretty sure I heard a few more curses. He came over to stand by me.
“Why would he go near the mountain?” he spoke low, it was a rhetorical question. Stephen’s eyes locked onto the black mountain; strands of his black hair blew across his forehead, making his hair more disheveled.
“What’s the significance of the mountain?”
Stephen turned his attention to me, “It is the beginning of the Nightlin territory. We’ve never been able to penetrate the area, but we know they are there. We believe they live under the mountain in some sort of underground system.” He shook his head, “I need to go tell the others. Why would he go near that place?” He headed for the door, “thanks, Sloane.” He di
sappeared through the doorway.
I stared at the mountain. The massive dark peaks were barely visible in the night sky. Could someone even climb it? Clifford came to stand beside me.
“Only trouble will he find if he goes to that place,” Clifford stared fixedly at the mountain. Sheesh, Yoda much?
“Is there something we can do? We have to go after him.” My heartbeat faster, and thoughts rushed through my mind, thoughts of actions to take, what might be happening to Graham, and the consequences if we didn’t act.
“No, you cannot. You will surely die; then how would you find your answers?” Clifford asked. His bushy eyebrows were pushed together, making a straight line above his eyes.
A headache pounded behind my eyes again, though this time, I was sure it was because of Graham and the Nightlins. I massaged my temples in clockwise motions, trying to ease the tension.
“So, what can we do?”
“We can only wait. You can’t be going off to fight thousands of Nightlins by yourself. You still need training, and if need be, we will find Willow too.” Clifford patted my arm, “Graham left without a word because he knew some journeys must be taken alone.” He paused and looked me in the eyes, “One day, I’m sure you will have to take the same kind of journey. Come, let’s go back inside, they will tell you what they plan to do.” He took my hand and tugged me in the direction of the hall.
I followed him on auto-pilot. My mind was in a haze. There must be something I could do to help Graham. Surely, there’s something. Why else would I be here, but to help in any way I can? Clifford led me to the stairway.
“Can you make it to your room?”
I nodded slowly.
“Okay, I will see you tomorrow. We have work to do.”
This time I met his eyes and nodded again. I smiled slightly, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
19