Mother of Darkwaters: Book one of the Vessel series (48 page)

    “Good morning sleepy head,” Martha greets her granddaughter as she steps off of the last stair entering into Julianna's room.

   “Morning, grams,” Julianna answers with a raspy early morning tone. She watches Martha walk over to the white oak mini tree. The older woman takes the family amulet within her right hand and flips it over before allowing it to dangle freely once more.

   “There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about,” Martha explains her early intrusion, “Yesterday was a full day. So I put it off.”

   “Shoot,” Julianna gives permission while sitting up in her bed.

   “How is that you are in the blue room when there's no way you could have finished with all of the yellow books?”

   “Does it matter as long as I'm still studying in the yellow series, too?”

   “It wouldn't have bothered me. But you went after that red key. And I know for a fact the blue series has nothing about that key in it. That means you're jumping around way too much. It's dangerous and careless.”

   “I learned about the red key from a sub-prophecy.”

   “What sub-prophecy?”

   Julianna points towards her desk. Martha glances over and sees a book entitled:
Mother of Darkwaters
.

   “The red marker,” Julianna explains.

   Martha picks up the book and takes hold of the red make-shift book marker. She opens it before glancing up to look at her watchful granddaughter.

   “You do realize we have thousands of
real
book markers in the jewelry room, right?” When Martha sees the clueless expression her granddaughter gives her, she continues.

   “I'll show you later.”

   Martha looks back down to the pages within her hands. She begins reading aloud.

   “Thy eyes reflect every green living thing.

     Thou hast been blessed by Death himself.

     Through the words of a child's lips thou hast plucked the flower from the sun.”

   Martha's blue eyes shift upward until she regains view of her granddaughter.

   “What do you see here?”, Martha questions.

   “My green eyes, the event at Lady Lanecia's house, the nursery rhyme mom taught me, and finding the yellow key,” Julianna answers.

    Martha nods a little surprised. She feels the truth within her granddaughter's interpretation. She looks back down and begins reading.

   “Thy breath is cold like unto frozen water.

      Thou hast frozen the sun with thy lips.

      The sun shines no more. It has no more heat to warm thee.

      The sun is unable to sustain thy life.”

   Whenever Martha glance back up, Julianna responds.

   “I will break the standard of following the book's orderings. I will find the yellow key, but will replace it with the blue key. The yellow series becomes obsolete. It is destroyed by my choice to pursue the blue series.”

   Martha rescans the prophecy silently. She shakes her head.

   “But how could you have found the blue key without reading the yellow series?”

   “Mathematics and the language of Lilith.”

   Martha shifts the book to her left hand in order to place her right palm around her hip.

   “Julianna Cora Atwood,” Martha's tone becomes serious, “Explain yourself.”

   Julianna gets out of bed, walks over to her desk, and pulls out a pen and pad from the top center drawer. She begins drawing. When she finishes, Julianna steps back.

   “It's a clock,” she explains.

   “And?”, Martha doesn't sound like she is in any mood for a cryptic game.

   “And,” Julianna steps forward to write some more. Martha watches as she writes
yellow
next to the one and
blue
by the number two.

   Julianna points with her pen, “These are where the keys are located. When you multiply twelve by one you get twelve. The numbers on the clock represents the natural order of the series. The key for the yellow series is found in book twelve of the white series. Twelve times one.”

   Martha's right brow lifts slightly as she begins to understand. She points at the number three.

   “Twelve times three is thirty-six,” Martha observes, “And the blue key is definitely found in book thirty-six of the yellow series.”

   “You got it,” Julianna agrees.

   “I don't understand how you figured this out.”

   “The neutralizing zone upstairs,” Julianna reveals her secret, “It has twelve pillars that are shaped like a clock. I was drawing them on a piece of paper and seen the resemblance.”

   Martha pauses while contemplating her granddaughter's findings. She, finally, speaks to the patient girl awaiting her response.

   “And this works for all of them?”, Martha questions.

   “No,” Julianna admits the flaw in her formula, “There's a divisor that's needed, but I don't understand what it is. And the red key isn't associated to the twelve pillars at all. It can't be because it's not in any of the books.”

   “And how do you know this?”, Martha isn't sure how her granddaughter figured out such a thing without going through all of the keys first.

   “First off,” Julianna explains herself, “The red key is only accessible after a blood ritual.”

   “Yes I know,” Martha interrupts her granddaughter, “That's why Frank had such a mess to clean up.”

   “Sorry about that,” Julianna sincerely answers. She shakes her head, “But that's not what I mean. Matt was just part of the overall picture.”

   “More killing?”

   “You could say that,” Julianna answers with disappointment.

   “What are you not telling me, Julia?”

   “It's me.”

   “What's you?”

   “You know,” Julianna continues her cryptic approach, “I'm the second part of the blood ritual.”

   Martha scans her eyes back over the book within her left hand. She reads aloud.

   “Thou hast taken the yellow flower.

     Thou hast frozen the sun from its life giving light.

     Thy breath of frozen water returns it to life.”

   “Is this not you replacing the yellow key for the blue one?”, Martha interprets the meaning herself.

   “Yes - but...”, Julianna is interrupted as Martha continues reading.

    “Thou hast known starvation from thy power.

      Thy hunger yearns for the blackness to feed thee.

      Thou hast stricken thy hand against the One who has created all things.

      A life no more will please thy body.

      Arise O' Mother from thy slumber.

      Awaken with the blood thou hast stricken down.

      Thy heart shall delight with each passing breath.

      Thy legs tremble when thine eyes fall upon a red moon.”

   Martha quickly gives her next interpretation, “Is this not when you lashed out against the God of heaven at nighttime?”

   “It is. But...”, Julianna's words are cut short again as Martha finishes reading.

   “Prophecy of Lilith. Sub prophecy - Mother of Darkwaters.”

   Martha closes the book and shakes it at her granddaughter, “Now you show me where it says you are part of this blood ritual.”

   “My virginity,” Julianna answers without taking the book from her grams, “That's my part.”

  Martha sits the book on Julianna's desk, “Where did you ever hear this?”

   Julianna's reluctant pause causes Martha to narrow her brows.

   “Out with it,” Martha instructs.

   Julianna nervously fidgets with her fingers. She takes a deep breath before speaking.

   “Lilith told me.”

   “Lilith?” Martha retorts, “You mean at the cleansing ritual?”

   Julianna shakes her head.

   “Tell me you haven't been going there by yourself, Julia. That mix is dangerous. You shouldn't ever...”

   “I know, grams,” Julianna takes her turn at interrupting, “I've been really careful.”

   “That's not the point,” Martha criticizes, “If something were to go wrong, you wouldn't have anyone to help you.”

   “I know,” Julianna looks down regretfully.

   Martha calms herself before speaking again.

   “You need to fully understand how Lilith exists. She is a spirit-soul.”

   “I get the whole spirit-soul concept.”

   “And what law applies to ensure you are never manipulated, tricked, or guided by devious hands?”

   “The law which carries a death penalty.”

   Martha grins as Julianna's head retreats from her own words. The girl looks up and stares into Martha's blue eyes.

   “How can you die if you already dead?”, Martha questions.

   Julianna's brows narrow with her new insight.

   “Crap,” Julianna voices her frustration, “She freakin’ lied to me.”

   Martha excuses her granddaughter's potty mouth under the circumstances.

   “I didn't say that,” Martha clarifies, “I only pointed out that she's not bound by the only law designed to keep your best interests intact.”

   “So she could have been telling the truth,” Julianna calms her tone.

   “Or she could have lied,” Martha counters, “It's up to you to find the truth.”

   Julianna walks over and hugs Martha.

   “Thanks, grams.”

   “You’re welcome, dear,” Martha pats her granddaughter's back.

   Julianna steps back and smiles appreciatively.

   “Oh!”, Martha puts up her right index finger, “Before I forget. Devia called and said the rest of your order will be here today. I'll give you a hand when it gets here.”

   “No,” Julianna rushes her response too quickly. She attempts to play it off, “You shouldn't be lifting heavy boxes. I can get it. But thanks.”

   Martha may not know exactly what her granddaughter purchased. But she is quite familiar with the length of time it takes to receive an order from one of Devia's fun time magazines.

   “That's alright, dear,” Martha gives her response, “I'm not that old yet.”

   When Julianna shifts her body uncomfortably, Martha laughs.

   “Relax, Julia,” Martha pats her granddaughter's shoulder on the way out of the room, “You old grams has no intentions of finding out anything. Privacy is important. I like mine. And I'm sure you like yours.”

   Julianna's heart races as she watches her grams ascend the stairs leading into the library. One thing is for certain. Her grams has a mean streak.

Chapter 9

   Veeek-tor-riahhhh

   “The one and only,” Mandie answers the excited cheerleader.

   Jennifer can hardly believe her own ears. Her mouth opens, but words refuse to form on her lips.

   “What about her?”, Rebecca ignores her flabbergasted friend. She, herself, is choosing to play the
Who cares if it is Amy Lee
card.

   “She's going to be in town,” Mandie explains, “Tomorrow.”

   “Here?!”, Jennifer panics.

   “Shut up, Jen,” Rebecca orders, “We don't even know what this is about yet.”

   “We're kinda like friends,” Mandie elaborates, “She wants to hang out Saturday and then do a small jam session before heading back home. But I don't have any place for her to go.”

   “What are you getting at?”, Caroline's heart begins racing with anticipation.

   “I need a big house. Amy will play some of her songs. But it won't be like a whole concert or anything. It's just for fun. More like a friendly get together than anything else. She said I could invite the seniors and their friends, but was specific about not playing for the whole school. Plus, she wants it to stay private. No posting on the internet at all.” 

   You better not be lying, Mandie,” Rebecca halfheartedly threatens. She, too, is now being bitten by the star bug.

   “Why would I lie about Amy?”, Mandie questions.

   “Amy?”, Jennifer chimes in, “You're on a freakin' first name basis with her?”

   “Friends,” Mandie settles the matter.

   “I've got the house,” Jennifer raises her left hand like she's about to be called on by a teacher in class.

   “What are you doing?”, Rebecca stares at Jennifer's long arm.

   Jennifer responds by lowering her arm. She briefly glances around to see if anyone is looking at her before speaking quietly.

   “I'm just saying I've got a place where we can go,” Jennifer narrows her brows at Rebecca, “Relax.”

    Rebecca raises her brows to let Jennifer know she's about to cross a line.

   “Pfft,” Jennifer counters Rebecca's silent threat.

   Rebecca gives in and calms her demeanor. But her blue eyes remain fixated on Jennifer's daring stare.

   “It's no good, Jen,” Rebecca's tone is void of any anger or sarcasm, “My place is parent-free. They'll be in Paris for two more weeks.”

   Jennifer calms her expression.

   “You're right, Becca,” Jennifer concedes to her captain, “We need a parent-free spot.”

   Rebecca turns her attention to Mandie, “Call her.”

   “Not here,” Mandie refuses.

   “Restroom,” Rebecca give Mandie her only other alternative. The four girls stand and abandon their lunch for their trip to the meeting place.

   Mandie places her smartphone on the long counter housing the row of sinks in the girl's restroom.

   “No screaming,” she warns while waving her right pointer finger.

   “Just make the call,” Rebecca ignores Mandie's playful nature.

   Mandie touches her phone, selects contacts, and slowly slides the menu down to the picture of her friend, Amy. She could have just voice dialed, but what is the fun in that? The growing tension among the S.V.C. is sweet to behold. And she's not passing up on this moment for anyone – including Rebecca who seems to be currently having trouble tearing her eyes away from Mandie’s phone.

  
Ring-ring. Ring-ring.

   “Hey Mandie,” a female's voice greets, “What's up?”

   Jennifer sways. Mandie quickly grabs her left wrist and places the cheerleader's long palm on the counter.

   “Hi, Amy,” Mandie greets, “You're on speaker phone. The women I told you about wanted to say hi…if that's okay with you?”