I sigh. “I’m sorry, Philip.” I get up from my seat and hug him tightly, letting his body lean into mine. I stroke his hair as I talk to him. “Yeah, maybe Gunthreon is using me,” I say, “but maybe I’m being selfish, too. I need something to be strong about—something to bring me out of my rut. And if it’s gonna be a threat of monsters from an entirely different realm than the one I reside in that does it, sobeit.” I kiss him on the top of the head and raise his face so I may see it. I take a step back.
Philip looks at me and j
ust when I think he’s going to feel sorry for me, or agree that Gunthreon may be on to a great plan, Philip sighs and says, “You are one foolish girl,” as he drinks his last sip of milk.
I refuse to feed his jumbo-sized, too big for a seven-year-old, ego. “Thanks for the tea and enjoy your damn muffin!” I say as I storm to his front door.
Just as I reach Philip’s apartment door, tossing the post-it note back on the table, I hear, “Tell Gunthreon I’m willing to see him, as long as he doesn’t try to cut my other eye out, my karmelean friend.” When I exit, he locks the door, most likely reapplying his post-it note.
Why can’t my life be simple? And why the hell does this feel like a break-up with a boyfriend and not an argument with a total stranger?
Chapter 13
Helpless
The whole rest of my day is spent lounging around and watching those horrible talk shows you just can’t ignore, no matter how many educational cable channels you flip through.
Let’s see,
Dr. Phil
or
The Fascinating Life of Dung Bugs?
Hmmm, easy choice.
I start off laughing, telling myself how stupid these people are, but by the end I’m usually egging some baby’s momma to punch the deadbeat father in his head. I don’t even call Gunthreon, even though I know I really should.
Nighttime soon rolls around, and the moon is beautiful, just shining silently through my balcony door, lending me a brief moment of peacefulness. Watching one more TV show, I decide, won’t destroy that many more brain cells than I’ve already lost today, so I sit on the couch sipping a relaxing cup of chamomile tea. I examine my favorite teacup in my lap as I sit, thinking it’s just like me—damaged, but still able to perform its intended purpose. As I stare, my eyelids become heavy and when I slowly start dozing off, I feel I need to get up and go to bed before I spill the tea.
As I rise, Kioto turns toward my front door and I hear the beginning of a low growl from h
er throat. I stare at the door, recalling Philip’s comment about Bu. I watch as the fog of Renhala form before my eyes.
“Bu, you don’t have to sit at my door,” I say as I start for the door, quickly opening it. “If you want to come in—” but that
’s all that comes out before I realize that the horrible thing before me is not Bu. It’s far uglier than Bu. It’s a greble all right, but bigger and grosser, if that’s possible.
I try to slam the door as the fog rolls in around me, but the greble catches it in its hand. Kioto snarls and growls, but I can tell she doesn’t want to go near the creature. The marble ball
my mom gave me lies on the table, catching my eye, so I scoop it up in my hand and throw it at its head, but it catches it mid-air and it crumbles in its grasp.
I grab Kioto by the collar, and as I start to drag her to my bedroom, the apartment suddenly disappears, and I find myself standing in a pool of slime the color of pus, surrounded by fog
, without Kioto. I have no idea where I am. I pull myself out of the puddle, with much force, and stand still, listening.
Kioto barks frantically in the fog, and I yell to her, trying to coax her to me. Her barking abruptly stops, and then I feel soft fur rub against my leg. I feel better knowing she’s safe, and I pet her head, only to find that the head I
’m petting is some kind of giant raccoon with fangs.
Immediately, I scream and start running, but to where, I have no idea. I try relaxing in the hope that the fog will lift.
The greble laughs somewhere in the haze, and I try to pinpoint where the voice is coming from. “Kailey, Kailey, do you think you can run?” he says. “I see you. Mmm, your flesh is so soft and inviting. I’d really like to squeeze the life from it. I should have finished you when you visited last night.”
I realize he must be talking about my dream. Once again, I didn’t distinguish between a dream and reality by realizing the difference—the simple fact that I
felt. Felt their feelings.
“You won
’t escape this time!” the monster grumbles in the fog.
I remember Gunthreon telling me my monk’s spade should always be at my back, but as I grab for it, I don’t feel it. I know it has to be there, but I can’t bring myself to relax enough to really grasp it. The fear of what this creature can do to my fragile body is overwhelming, but I gather my courage and
in a final attempt at defending myself, reach to the creature’s own anger.
Maybe there’s a chance
. I can do this.
Black sludge
.
Just as I grab the energy of the anger, I
’m slammed by something so massive I am literally lifted off my feet. My head hits a huge rock, which resembles a headstone.
The blood is warm as it starts pouring down my forehead, dripping into my eye. As I sit, disoriented, the creature grabs at me, barely touching my shoulder. Then, he starts yelling, trying to swat away something at his feet.
It’s Kioto. She’s found her way to me. She bites the greble’s legs and feet, dodging his blows.
Right before I faint, I see another figure running full force at t
he creature. This time, it’s Bu with his fists raised, charging the larger creature.
Blackness consumes me.
Chapter 14
Tense
The pain is excruciating. I sit up as slowly as I can and feel the top of my head, discovering it’s still in one piece, and as my eyes peek open, I notice my own comforter is covering my legs, so I know I was not admitted to a hospital. Philip sits across from me in my desk chair, sleeping, while Bu, squeezed into the recliner beside him, also sleeps. Gunthreon stands next to me, staring at me intently.
“How are you feeling?” he ask
s very quietly. “I called in sick to your work for you, so don’t worry.”
The pain in my head leaves abruptly. I look to Gunt
hreon, confused. Smiling, he responds, “It was the last thing you felt, so the sensation just lingered. Your brain had to catch up with the rest of your body.”
“What the hell happened? Where’s Kioto?” I try to stand up quickly and almost fall on top of her. She jumps up and puts her tail between her legs, cowering from the surprise. “No, no, it’s all right, baby, come here,” I say, patting her head and checking her over, feeling every bone in her body. She seems to be fine. But me on the other hand, I don
’t feel I’m ready to deal with another realm. “Gunthreon, I can’t do this. I choked.” I hesitate. “I should be dead now!”
“You have all your friends here to thank for your life, Kailey,” says Gunthreon. “You
’ve made wonderful, sacrificing friends, simply by being you. Don’t give up that easily. That greble that attacked you is long gone. Bu and Kioto put up the fight of a lifetime. As for your head, ‘Philip’ fixed you.”
I look at Gunthreon inquisitively.
“’Philip’ has quite a coveted gift, you know,” says Gunthreon, “something so special that wars have been started over it.” He watches as my expression turns to one of worry. “That very being, sitting right there,” he points to Philip, “somehow, magically, knows the genetic mapping of every living creature and how their life force flows. Everything from platelet regeneration to photosynthesis! With this, comes the gift of healing, along with a few other magic tricks. See why I was so excited you found him?” He smiles. “He is known as Ladimer, and as long as I’ve known him, he’s never looked like
that
.”
“I only kept my scar to remind myself.” Philip’s head rises, and his eyes are open, staring directly at Gunthreon.
Gunthreon puts his head down, looking like he’s been run through the mill. “Ladimer, you have got to let go of your anger.” He turns his face to Philip, with eyes suddenly full of power. “You know I can
make
you forget it, right?”
“Don’t use those words on me, you fool.” The anger between them rises, and I can feel the tension between them, as thick as maple syrup—but not so sweet. My lungs feel like they may collapse.
Philip turns to me and sternly says, “I can also take life away. He tends to forget that.” He then turns to Gunthreon. “Oh, and so you know, I told Kailey of
your
special and unique gift.
I
, at least, thought that was of importance.” Gunthreon ignores him.
“No way are you seven,” I state
. “How old are you really? Is this your true form? If I touch you, will you flicker?”
Philip turns to me and gives me the poutiest seven-year-old face he can muster.
“This isn’t Star Wars,” he yaps. “Get real. Come on and use that brain I just shoved back in your head. I can
control
the force that gives life, along with these puny bodies of ours that hold our organs together. I can
manipulate body data
. I can be
anyone
I want to be.”
“Does your foster mom know about all this?”
His laugh holds years of experience. “Karen? I’ve seen more foster homes than you can imagine, Kailey. I’ve probably been adopted forty times in the past century. I’m a nomad. I’ve deceived people my whole life. She doesn’t know what I am, so best we leave it that way, for her sake.” He sighs. “I thought I could lead a normal life, hiding away in her little family, but guess not, huh? Gunthreon here made sure of that. And he’s trying to ruin your life, too.”
I look at Gunthreon and it seems as though his glare at Philip might pierce right through his body. “I had nothing to do with finding you, ‘Philip,
’” spits Gunthreon. “Stop being so damn dramatic!”
The testosterone level in the room is smothering me—and the tiny seven-year-old seems to be the biggest contributor. “Can we stop this petty bickering please?” I say. “Gunthreon, why is Philip—Ladimer—whoever—so angry with you? I turn to Philip
with a finger to my lips, pointing to him with my other hand.
“Well, if L
adimer will let me explain,” barks Gunthreon. “I can clue you in.”
He waits until Philip gives him the floor with a hand gesture and Philip whispers, “Can
’t wait to hear
this
.”
“Long ago,” begin
s Gunthreon in his best fairytale fashion, “there was a disastrous battle, sparked by Velopa over a particular region of Renhala that it was claiming was its own. The fight involved hundreds of creatures and humans, and we two were in the middle of a particularly ugly fight—”
Philip interjects by adding, “—w
here I was falling at least twice the amount of enemies as my partner.”
Gunthreon glares at him as Philip zippers his mouth
shut. Gunthreon, satisfied, continues, “My purse was cut in battle, and as I selfishly scrambled to collect all my fallen gold—I had a lot—I was speared through the gut by a meeple. Ladimer came to my rescue. He laid his hands on me, mending my insides.
“I fell unconscious, and in my unconsciousness,” says Gunthreon, “my power came alive twofold. Disoriented as I awoke, the last thing I remembered was the meeple standing over me, shoving its talon into my belly so I persuaded the one bending over me to tear out his own eye. The pain I felt soon afterward was even worse than that talon, for I had hurt my best friend.”
He turns to Philip. “I am truly sorry for what I did. You have to know this, Ladimer. I tried following your whereabouts for decades, hoping to tell you of my regrets, but since you can change your appearance, it has proved too difficult to find you.”
“Oh,” I say, not knowing what else
to
say. Gunthreon and Philip stare at each other, exchanging no words. I breathe in deeply, and with my mind open, feel the energy emanating from them both. I attempt to caress the hurt they both feel.
“Kailey!” I am suddenly interrupted by Bu and jump in my seat. I look to Gunthreon and Philip who are both stari
ng at me with their mouths open, aware of what I was attempting. Gunthreon then smiles at me.
“I am sorry, Kailey. Bu was bad. Bu was late.” Awake now, Bu comes to me quickly and wraps his giant arms around me. I feel I must remember to discuss with him the importance of hygiene, because man, he stinks. He’s crying, lighting up the room—a daily occurrence, it seems.
“Don’t feel bad, Bu. You can’t protect me all the time,” I say. “But Bu, you have to be honest with me. Have you been outside my door?” He nods his head. I then query, “Did you know this greble was going to attack me?”
His gaze turns to Kioto
and she licks his hand, coaxing him to tell me something. Philip nods sternly toward him, and the look of submission on Bu’s face tells me he indeed knows something of importance.
“Bu heard talking at home,” replie
s Bu. “Big grebles were talking to the ugly bunny. Bu heard your name. So Bu come and watch your door.” He gets up and walks away from us, his anger and remorse fueling his temper. He turns to me and says, “Bu go get them. They hurt you!” And with this, he disappears.
“Damn!” yells Gunthreon, with enough power to slightly shake the room. Philip and I exchange glances, not expecting that out of Gunthreon’s mouth. I
’m not sure why the room shook. “They will kill him, or even worse, not kill him, but torture him. No, this is not going to happen. I need to go to him,
now
!”
I can see how special Bu is to Gunthreon. “Gunthreon, I want to help,” I say. “Don’t go alone, please. This is all because of me.”
Philip sighs. “Me, too,” he adds. “I will help however you can use me. I will travel to Renhala if you will it. I’m bored here anyway.” On his feet, he lifts his head from the bow he has given Gunthreon, his mannerisms not fitting his small frame. Adulthood peeks through the cracks, and I see someone other than Philip—instead, a man doing his best to eat his pride. This is the closest to an apology I think Gunthreon will get from him.
“You have no idea what yo
u are getting yourself into,” warns Gunthreon. “Kailey, you’re so new, and Ladimer, you’ve been gone for so long. Bu’s Gernwood is the worst it’s ever been, its evil multiplying exponentially by the day.”
“I
’m scared shitless, and may faint at any particular moment,” I pause, “but I am drawn to the idea of helping you, Gunthreon. I’m willing to jump in. If I don’t, I may only barricade myself in my apartment. And, ain’t it best that the insane keep the insane for company?” I pause as both of them stare at me. “I just need to know what Bu meant by ‘the ugly bunny.’ That kind of scares me.”
“It’s a meeple, Kailey—a cute little fuzzy meeple.”
I recall the image flashing across Spirit Cave’s television above the bar—the one of the taloned rabbit. Then I imagine images of Gunthreon getting speared through the gut in battle. “You mean to tell me these deadly things are cute, little, fuzzy bunnies with talons?”
Gunthreon nods his head.
“They’re here, in my realm!”
He nods again and says, “They
’ve captured several, but it seems they all oddly disappear.”
Philip stands before us. “If you want to save Bu, we have to leave now. No time for dawdling.” He’s frank, that’s for sure. “The meeples have not kept their distance from me, Gunthreon. They know where I am. I’ve seen them at night, at my balcony door. They’ve begun travelling here in throngs. Something big’s going down.”
“The scratches?” I ask
. “That’s what those scratches are from?”
Creepy
. My pocket suddenly feels heavy and I reach in, forgetting I had put my pendulum there. I pull it out.
Gunthreon sees it and says, “Did you happen to have that in your pocket when the greble attacked you?”
“Yes.”
“Great. We will use it to find Bu. Good job, Kailey.”
“Cool.” I guess I do cool things now, and don’t even realize it.
Gunthreon grabs my hand and says, “Let
’s go.”