Authors: Kathy-Lynn Cross
A blanched hand remained extended. Deep down, I knew I should be afraid of him but had to make a choice. Should I grab onto the unknown or face demise? With my heart seemingly pushing out of its cage, confusion and anxiety made me start to cry again.
The soft voice didn’t match his appearance. “I have given this much thought, watching you for the past three flips of the Nightglass, Child-of-Balance. Against my clan’s wishes, I will grant you the answers you seek.” His beautiful eyes narrowed.
I was drawn to them as he spoke, like a moth to the flame of death.
Why did it sound so comforting?
My subconscious socked me upside my cranium as I pondered his words.
Answers to what questions?
The main chest muscle momentarily stopped beating as bewilderment pulled back the shroud from my eyes.
“You once asked, ‘What do you want from me? What is our connection? Why are you here’?” He shook his head in dismay, placing fingers from his free hand over the bridge of his nose, pinching. When he released it, his eyes seemed to fish around my soggy brain for one of my used memories. His frozen stare warmed my heart into beating again. Then…
Snap, crack.
The trance we shared broke a second time when the limb gave out from under me, and the sound of splintered wood echoed. I was hanging in midair, suspended on wires of apprehension, while he still held out his hand. Shock and trepidation overcame me. I hadn’t fallen to the ground yet but panicked when I saw his fingers begin to curl into his palm. Eventually, he sighed and his patience embraced me as he spoke. “You need to choose, Vessel. But I warn you, either path you take will eventually end in death.”
Fingers opening, he stretched out farther for my hand. In a nod of agreement, we clasped hands and with one swift motion, I was on the roof. A jolt of ice ran up that arm. My breath stopped. Wild-eyed, he embraced me and leaned his face close to my neck so I couldn’t see his features. His breath sizzled and skipped over the hollow curve behind the right ear to my chin. Frozen, I could only watch as his cloak violently spun around us, weaving a foggy cocoon. Parts of it probed through locks of hair, around my stomach and traced swirls over exposed skin. Both eyes fluttered, trying to focus, as his presence settled in view. Then he fused his body to mine. Startled, I inhaled some of the cloak’s mist which caused my temperature to plummet.
Floating beyond the realms of inner subconscious, my next thought was of a winter’s wind, biting at bare skin. I pictured myself small, about five maybe six years old, skating on ice with someone very tall. We were bundled in winter attire all the way down to my light blue mittens and his hunter green gloves. This boy’s smile made my heart skip in childlike excitement. When we were close, I didn’t feel the cold surface beneath the skates. We held hands, moving in time as if this routine had been programmed into memory.
I was having a difficult time looking straight into his eyes. Once in a while, I would get a chance to steal a glance, but the dual suns in the afternoon sky blinded me. Sneezes gave away my intentions, causing him to laugh, knowing full well what I was trying to do.
We spun and glided, jumped and landed. My giddy laughter grew louder when he lifted me into the air. And then, he chuckled even harder when I clung to him, to keep from falling. His hair was thick and softly feathered in a messy wind-blown look. When he carried me, I would cling to his neck, and then playfully pat his short locks of silk.
Every time I got the chance to wrap my arms around him, I would breathe in a mixture of smells. The boy’s raven black, rust-tipped hair was an intoxicating aroma of frost, kissed by the sun. Combined with his skin’s rich, airy smell of rain before a storm, I’d never felt so connected to anyone like this before. Sheer joy filled me while fear controlled me. Something in the trees around us bobbed.
Time ceased.
I consciously forced my head to turn and take a good look around. Horror shook me as I came to the conclusion that I was very far away, somewhere with him in a world made solely from a nightmare. Trying to rip myself away, to get as much distance between us as possible, my small legs were no match for his. Sobs faded, and I found myself yelling at him about curses and magical powers I didn’t understand. The tall boy turned into a dark, shadowy figure. He frowned. Skating away from the darkness, I stopped in the middle of the pond, eyes burning with red, thick tears. Protection from him was all I wanted now. Without thinking, I spun around and screamed at the sky,
“Eh-tu-nook, Callcrys.”
Gigantic blackbirds took to the sky, blocking both of the suns’ bright light, casting everything in an eerie, red eclipse. The screaming I heard came from me more than the winged monsters from my teenage night terrors. I didn’t want this. Really, I didn’t. He reached out and grabbed me by both shoulders, but I tried to break free. I wanted to make a different choice. Although terrified beyond my own comprehension, the screams bounced along each rib unable to find their way out. My body collapsed in his arms.
The moisture in the air brought me back. We were so close his breath filled my mouth with hoarfrost.
Hard breathing was all I heard from either of us. Blinking at the stars, I was instantly back on my roof, still in his arms. He held me tight, in more of a protective way than a romantic intertwine. His slow laughter sent a rush of elation through me from the familiar tone. I dug my nails into his back, and he laughed harder from the pain.
If I was dreaming, why did he feel so real?
I wanted to speak, but my tongue burned from the taste of snow. It seeped into my parted lips, but soon my entire body went numb as we remained connected.
A chortle as quiet as a whisper escaped his lips, curving them slightly. “I forgot all about that day. Damn it, Alexcia. Ten years and you still amaze me. How did you manage to do that?” He’d taken on a unique demeanor when his eyes held a need of hunger, but I didn’t know how I could fulfill his new yearning. Arms and legs began thawing, and I brought cold fingers to my lips. They were tingling from the rush of blood trying to warm them. We both shook with excitement and anticipation as we parted. He panted, trying to regain control over his normal composure while speaking to the other cloaked creatures encircling us. His eyes never lost focus on me.
“Ashens, we will accompany Miss Stasis tomorrow night from a safe distance. Quint, get in touch with one of the other clans to cover for us. K, Archer, and Imp, you will take scouting duties and report back every five shadows of the sundial. Michael and Raven, you need to join me to work flank guard.” A few of them growled in disapproval. My head lowered, not wanting to see who had disagreed with his commands.
He continued speaking, apparently unaffected by his protesters, “Death is different for each Vessel, but in the end the outcome is the same. I wish to see more from the other side of death’s hold.” His hand grazed my cheek wiping away actual tears. “I do not understand why you cry for what cannot be changed.” In the end, his tone sounded unfeeling.
I couldn’t pry my eyes from his. The cloaked figure licked his lips when he was done speaking. Moisture mixed with the moonlight made them glisten. A feeling of possession overtook me. I was envious of the night’s light, touching what I could not have. My eyes throbbed and stung with hardwired emotions, responding to inner thoughts. I longed to taste his emotions of fear, torment, power, and most of all, his new one… desire.
The pair of glowing eyes before me widened in complete surprise as I advanced with slight trepidation. Raising my right hand cautiously to caress his face, I brushed my thumb across his lips. Molding his hand over mine, his voice became breathless and quivering as he tried to gain his composure.
Dropping his head until he was a whisper away from the cusp of my ear, he said, “The answers you seek from me are as follows: Balance, a Bond-Rite, and to protect you… especially from me.” The other six creatures started to close in on us, and I barely heard his last words as I leaned forward, deeper into his embrace. The mist engulfed us, and I woke up whispering, “Balance.”
***
Lying in bed most of the night shivering, I watched the morning’s light filtering in between the cracks of the black curtains. The day of Tod’s funeral. Pulling the covers over my head, I wished Rae-Lynn would come tell me it was Thursday.
Thinking back to when I had woken up on Monday, I had told Mom I wasn’t feeling well. Then I came clean and told her I needed more time to deal with everything. Going to school and having to discuss what happened to all of us that night certainly wouldn’t be pleasing to relive.
She wasn’t upset but approached me, concerned. I was acting out of character. Under normal circumstances, I would have become agitated from being so weak, hiding behind ire. Emotionally, I couldn’t handle facing everyone on unrestful fumes of sleep. But, I also wasn’t going to tell her about waking up with blood caked under my nails and the new shade of dried blood eyeliner.
Had all my sanity vanished with the dream?
The inner sound of a heartbeat brought me mentally back to my bed. I flipped the covers off and limped over to the full-length mirror. Squinting at my reflection, I made a disgusted back throat noise. I touched the puffy eyes, picking at the corners of dried blood.
What if I did try to scratch my own eyes out while I slept? You know what they say about crazy, you’re not crazy if you say you are because crazy people never do. So, what does that make me?
Raising both eyebrows in a show of skepticism, I answered myself, “Yeah, I thought so too.” I blinked at the reflection staring back. It had lost the luster even makeup couldn’t fix. The face in the mirror appeared thinner than I remembered. My hair was stringy and full of knots due to the climb through the trees branches while escaping the world in my head. Leaning closer to the glass, I noticed some missed blood crusties.
Wiping them away, I held back a yawn, settling for a muffled groan instead. Ever since I decided to move back upstairs to my room, four nights ago, I had survived on broken slumber and lots of instant coffee. The medication wasn’t working anymore. Well, it did for the physical pain, but not with the nightmares. Regrettably, Mom kept the narcotics under lock and key. She was afraid I would overdose or become addicted. But, the way I felt right now, overdosing would at least grant me some rest in peace.
My life was full of torment. By day, I was reminded of death from the living. At night, I fought against it taking me. The nightmares were back with a relentless vengeance. Sadly, that part wasn’t the only thing different about them. Each morning, fear stained the thoughts that controlled me from the repeated nightly onslaught. Dreading the morning outcome had become routine. Checking my face for the unexplainable or searching for new scratches down my neck, arms, and back. One morning, I found my hair soaked in sweat and blood. I must have attacked myself instead of fending off the misty shadow creatures. At this point and time, I doubted I would ever enjoy the peaceful slumber my body craved.
Looking back at the mirror and into my eyes, I noticed they had become a faded shade of green mixed with blue, a black ring circling each iris. I frowned at the stranger staring back at me. Growing up, I’d always been told my eyes altered color with mood change. What I saw now dried my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
Studying both irises, I actually witnessed how they changed in color. The black ring was growing thick, and I watched the blue become absorbed by it, leaving light green. My vision began to burn again, and out marbled the black filling where the blue had once been. The irises changed to a deep, dark green with thin black streaks. With lids closed tight, I pressed fingertips into them hard and crumpled to the floor—trembling from what I’d seen in the mirror. The overall effect appeared sinister.
What is going on with me? Not only am I insane, but I’m mutating too?
The burning slowly subsided, and I released the pressure. The light in the room had faded, turning a darker shade that matched my detached mood. Unenthusiastically, I crawled over to the bed pulling myself up. Sitting on the messed up sheets, I grabbed my favorite zebra print pillow, placed it over my face and screamed.
I was tired of feeling like crap, of crying, hurting, not sleeping, scared, and most of all, of being unable to share any of it with anyone. Never so alone.
How did anyone deal with this pain?
Rolling over on my side, I cried and punched the bed over and over until I couldn’t feel anymore. Why couldn’t I have my old life back from before the accident? At least I could handle the bad dreams then. But now, I was living for the sheer purpose to survive them. Unsure if I wanted to endure it any more. This wasn’t my idea of living.
Wednesday: afternoon
I had managed to catnap in between snivels and hiccups until I noticed the clock was telling me to get up. The display showed 4:05 p.m., and it took all my energy to rise up off the bed, lean over, and knock the clock onto the floor. Time no longer meant anything to me, unimportant at best.
Still unsteady and dizzy while I tried to get dressed, I secretly hoped I’d fall over and break the other leg so I wouldn’t feel guilty for not going to say goodbye to my boyfriend. Yes, those thoughts about the situation were pretty ludicrous.
Rae-Lynn worked it out with my father to pick me up for the funeral and stay during the service, but I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. Bad enough the entire ordeal would be unbearable. Why not make it awkward, as well? Plus, I didn’t want him with me when I found Tod’s parents.