Rising (50 page)

“It’s time?” asked Clara, clearly awake now.

“Yes,” I said, taking her hand and following the
others outside.

Before she walked out of the door, I pulled her
back to me instinctually.
 
I couldn’t
explain why.
 
I just had a sudden urgency
to kiss her.
 
So I did.
 
I may have been a bit too aggressive, but I
couldn’t help myself.
 
I wanted her to know
what I felt about her, in case we didn’t get the chance again.
 
I pulled her close to me and lowered that
wall that held my emotions inside.
 
I
wrapped all that she meant to me into a tight ball in my chest, letting it
slide directly out to her in a slow hum of pressure.
 
She shivered.
 
I remembered what I did the last time that I’d lost control and knocked
her unconscious.
 
This time, I was able
to keep it in check and give her a brief show of what I felt.
 
It was probably the only time I’d ever knowingly
and willingly shown anyone how much they meant to me, especially in this
bizarre supernatural way.
 
It was
definitely the only time I’d been able to control my power enough to use it in
this manner, tenderly and gently.
 
Before
this, it had always been sheer force and violence.
 
When I finally pulled away from her lips, she
had a complete look of shock on her face.
 
For a second, I thought maybe I had done something wrong.

“Are you okay?
 
Did I hurt you?”
   

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, smiling sheepishly.
 
“Can we do that again?”

I certainly wasn’t the blushing type, but I
felt a flush of heat crawl up my neck anyway.

“Stay focused, Clara, during the fight,” I
said.

“You should’ve thought of that before you
kissed me and did that whatever it was you just did.”

I swept a swift kiss on her forehead, tucking
her hair back behind one ear.

“Seriously,” I said, looking intently at her,
“stay focused.”

“I will,” she assured me, and I sensed that her
emotions were strong and steady.

We walked out hand-in-hand to the others.
 
Homer was talking to Ben who was obviously on
edge.

“Whatever feels natural to you,” Homer was
saying when we approached.

“Yeah, I feel better when I run,” said Ben,
starting to jog along the interior of the blue line in our multicolored
bulls-eye.

“Are you sure they’ll all come?” asked Jeremy.

“Oh, yes,” said Homer, “quite certain.
 
The reapers always seek out the greatest
energy in a region, wanting it for their own.
 
Once Benjamin works up his power, they’ll flock here together, thinking
they’ve hit the jackpot, so to speak.”

“Won’t some of them leave then when they
realize it’s only the six of us?” asked Mel.

“I doubt it,” said Homer, “they’ll see that we
are
Setti
and will want to try and defeat us.”

“By defeat,” said Jeremy, “you do mean kill
us.”

Homer nodded.

“Don’t think of our possible defeat,” he said,
“it will only weaken you.
 
Remember that
this would be to their advantage.
 
Instead, remember those who we are fighting for, the ones we’ve lost and
the ones still counting on us for survival.”

Ben had
lapped
around
us three times, picking up speed, and was starting to beam brightly through his
t-shirt, even slightly through his jeans.
 
There was a rumble of thunder in the distance.

“Clara, come to the center now,” said Homer,
his voice becoming more commanding.

She did so, planting her feet right in the
middle of the yellow circle.
 
Homer was
saying something so that only she could hear—words of encouragement, I’m
sure.
 
Mel walked a little past me,
looking out at the swamp not so far away from the clearing.
 
I turned and stared out in the direction of
the thunder as well.
 
There was a slight
ripple of worry coming from Mel.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.
 
“I mean, besides the obvious.”

She gave me a half smile then turned back to
the sound of the oncoming storm.

“Ben,” she replied.
 
“I can’t help but think about that dream I
had so long ago.”

“Forget about that,” I said, “Homer said that
those dreams didn’t mean anything.
 
They
aren’t predictions of the future.”

“Really?” she said in her dry, sarcastic way,
“then why did I dream that he exploded in this exact setting in the darkness of
a storm with circles of color all around him?
 
It all came back to me just now when I heard the thunder.”

I glanced behind us at the spray-painted
circles on the ground, our target for battle.
 
Ben was still running, working up a sweat and glowing like crazy.

“Forget it, Mel.
 
Clara will keep us protected, because you
will keep her calm and steady.
 
Have
faith.”

She looked at me, raising that one eyebrow into
a peak.

“This is pretty pathetic that you’re giving me
the ‘stay calm’ advice, isn’t it?”

I didn’t respond, but laughed, just a
little.
 
I wouldn’t let on that her dream
now had me slightly worried.

“I’m fine,” she finally said.
 
“Let’s get ready.”

She walked back to Clara and Jeremy joined
me.
 
He folded the flap back of the small
bag looped through his belt.

“I need easy access,” he explained.
 
“Hey, where’s your pack?”

I’d forgotten it inside.

“Here it is,” said Homer, coming up behind
us.
 
“That was a very good idea,
Jeremy.
 
You have quite a large
collection of Chinese throwing darts.
 
A
hobby of yours?”

“Yeah, sort of.
 
I picked up the rest this morning at a shop in town,” he said, looking a
little guilty.
 
“I mean, I don’t think
the guy’s gonna be open for business any time soon.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” said Homer.
 

Jeremy seemed relieved that he wasn’t going to
get a lecture about stealing, then he started thumbing through his iPod.
 
I think Homer agreed that now wasn’t the time
to worry about such things, when we now knew that the store may or may not ever
open again.

“Gabriel, do you still have that pouch with the
stone, the relic of Freya?” Homer asked.

I’d almost forgotten about it.
 
I felt around in my jeans pocket and pulled
it out.

“Here,” said Homer, taking the pouch and
threading a leather strap through the short draw strings, tightening the ends
into a knot.
 
“I thought it might do you
some good, keeping it close to you this way.”

He looped the leather strap over my head.
 
The pouch with the black stone that was
literally a piece of my ancestor, a great Vanquisher, fell at the center of my
chest, close to my heart.
 
Homer patted
the pouch.

“Remember what you are and whose blood runs in
your veins,” Homer said, giving me a fixed, sincere gaze.
 

“I will,” I assured him.

“Good,” he said, stepping back, “then we’re all
ready.”

“Let’s rock and roll,” said Jeremy, almost
bouncing with excitement a few yards away.

Homer ambled back to the blue circle.
 
Ben had slowed to a jog, but he didn’t appear
out of breath at all from his rounds.
 
He
seemed the opposite, completely invigorated with a brilliant white light
shining off of every part of him, even his hair.
 
Clara and Mel were talking together.
 
Clara nodded to something she said.
 
Another rumble of thunder pulled my gaze
toward the swamp.

“What’s on the music agenda for tonight?” I
shouted to Jeremy.

Jeremy grinned in that mischievous way he had
about him.

“Iron Maiden, my friend.
 
It’s time for Eddie to do some damage.”

“Eddie?” I asked, completely confused.
 

Jeremy looked at me like I was an idiot, as if
it were common knowledge to know whoever Eddie was.

“You know, dude.
 
Eddie, their skeleton mascot,” he said, like
I was a fool for not knowing.
 
I guess in
Jeremy’s world, I was.
 
Then I remembered
an art project he did last semester.
 
Mrs. Fowler asked us to recreate a masterwork.
 
Jeremy’s idea of a master didn’t include
Monet or Munch.
 
It was an Iron Maiden
album cover entitled “Piece of Mind” where a chained skeleton man, Eddie,
fought to get free from his padded cell.
 
Now that I saw where Jeremy came from, it all made sense.
 
He was mumbling to himself as he apparently
scrolled through songs.

“Yeah, ‘Revelations,’ that’s the one.
 
Perfect.
 
Bring it, man.”

His bizarre enthusiasm made me smile, despite
the fact that anyone else would’ve thought he was a mental patient.
 
Hell, maybe his odd music was his own way of
self-medicating.
 
Who was I to judge what
was weird or normal?

Turning my attention back to the water, I
watched as a bank of heavy, dark gray clouds drew closer.
 
I took a deep breath.
 
It wasn’t six o’clock yet, but the sky rolled
in the smoky darkness, plunging us into an artificial night.
 
There was a rustling sound growing louder and
louder, the only sound other than the wind.
 
I knew this sound.
 
I’d heard it
in my dream where my skin broke into thousands of pieces and the ash-eater
inhaled what was left of me.
 
This was
the very spot in that nightmare where I’d carried the black stone to the edge
of a swamp, watching the storm carry the reapers and other creatures toward
me.
 
I grabbed the pouch at my chest,
holding the remnant of my ancestor long gone.
 
As if Freya knew what approached, even after a millennium of death, I
felt a pulsing sensation quiver out of the stone, moving through my body.
 
The rustling grew closer.
 
A streak of purple lightning splintered
across the sky, revealing the army of reapers stealthily moving toward us,
riding on the wind.
 
My power awakened
instantly, building steadily, waiting to be released.
 
It trembled through my veins.

“It worked, Flash!” shouted Jeremy gleefully
back to Ben, jumping up and down.
 
“All
our friends have come to play!”

An orb of golden light suddenly surrounded me,
pushing several feet past the green line, which was the border Homer wanted us
to stay within.
 
I glanced back at
Clara.
 
Her hands were raised as if she
literally held up the dome of light.
 
There was such a peculiar combination of serenity and strength in her
face.
 
We could do this.
 
I was sure of it now.
 
In addition to Clara’s sphere of protection,
there was Ben, who beamed out well beyond our circle.
 
The reapers were coming into view.
 
Jeremy started to sing his strange tune,
which somehow seemed exactly right for tonight.

“
Bind all of us together,
ablaze of hope and free, no storm or heavy weather, will rock the boat, you’ll
see . . . The time has come to close your eyes, and still the wind and rain
.”

His voice rose loudly, sending sound vibrations
out around us.
 
There was an electric
crackle and five or six shadow scouts popped into view, standing directly on
the other side of the shield opposite me.
 
Clara had created her shield of protection just in time.
 
Their yellow eyes glowed with an unnatural
luster.
 
They hissed at Jeremy for
removing their camouflage.
 
He kept
belting out his song.
 
More crackling,
more shadow scouts appeared, bursting into view around Clara’s shield.
 
I counted as the reapers spread out,
encircling us slowly.
 
All forty-four had
come, and was it ever a sight.
 
Their
massive black cloaks whipped wildly and their wings beat slowly as the wind
carried them over the water onto solid ground.
 
It was like a band of demons had come straight from Hell, wandering out
of the murky gloom.
 
Night was truly
taking over.
 
Ben’s glow reflected off of
cypress trees which seemed more alive with the wind stirring their branches and
gray moss.
 
Where I thought they should
look more like guardians to protect their own, they took on the appearance of
additional fiends, waiting to finish us off if the reapers failed.
 
Another shaft of lightning split the sky,
silhouetting the cloaked creatures rapidly descending on us.