Two Halves Series (24 page)

“What is it?”

“Shh. Did you feel that?”

“No.”

“Don’t move,” he ordered as he closed his eyes.

“Is it a demon?” I breathed, almost afraid to open my mouth, but I had to ask.

“I don’t think so.” He kept his eyes closed. “There’s something blocking my senses.” When he opened them, confusion beamed through his eyes.

“William! Sarah!” a deep male voice called.

We froze, our heartbeats picking up their rhythm. Our eyes met. My first instinct was to run, but I didn’t, remaining still and silent. Concern carved William’s face with new lines; he didn’t recognize who had called us, either. He slowly turned around, squeezing my hand.

An old man stood in front of us. He looked extremely familiar.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said like a teacher trying to compose an agitated class. With a posture of a seventy-year-old, he seemed unnaturally agile. Wrinkles covered most of his face and hands, but there was youthfulness in the creases I couldn’t imagine. The wisdom in his eyes gathered from centuries of experience shined. He didn’t look like a demon. His long gray hair and beard made me think of a wizard. It wasn’t a mien you’d come by on Earth, so I guessed he wasn’t from the upper world.

I took a deep breath. His lilac scent calmed my nerves. My gut told me we were safe, but I wasn’t sure if I could trust this new instinct.

“My name is Castall.” He smiled like an old friend.

We exhaled long-held breaths at the same time. William spoke first. “Castall? Of course. I’m sorry. You look much younger in person. How did you find us? I thought we were discreet.”

“You have been discreet.” He waved that line of conversation away and glanced around the parking lot before saying, “I cannot stay long. They’re working to break my spell.”

“Spell?” I asked.

“To hide my whereabouts.” His tone softened. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you—both of you.” His mouth curved up in a smile that seemed unfamiliar to him, as if he had kept it hidden for a long time, saved for a special occasion.

“Wait—how do we know it’s you?” I cut in. “William, didn’t you say there are shapeshifters all over?” I took a step back, the memory of orange glowing eyes of the fire demon still fresh.

“Here.” He held out his wrinkled hand to display three wavy lines on his pale wrist. “Any warlock with this birthmark means you well. Fear those with the sphere—on demons, warlocks, and any other creatures you may come across. They are your enemies.”

Still sceptical, I didn’t move closer.

“Sarah, I’m the reason you’re here.” He stepped forward to touch his index finger to my forehead before I thought to retreat. “Close your eyes.”

As if he’d cast a spell on me, I obeyed. Colours swirled in front of my eyes. A mix of centuries-old scents passed through my nostrils. Something told me I was now looking at 1856.

Two young women picked wildflowers in a field by a forest. In the shadow of the trees at its edge, two pairs of vampire eyes followed the maidens’ movements. Instead of killing at the first pulse they heard, they stood like hunting beasts mesmerized under a spell.

A dome of colourful lights loomed over the valley.
Where did the light come from?

Castall stood near the northern edge of the field, arms raised above his head. The bright rays spread outward and up from his hands.

I heard Castall’s voice in my head:
“The spell was meant to counteract Aseret’s curse to control vampires. They’d be able to live together.”

My mind’s eye zoomed in on two couples standing in front of one another.

“The vampires could no longer hurt humans. Their appetites were under control; they now craved only animal blood. They fell in love with the maidens at first sight, and they became inseparable.”

My gaze was drawn to one of the vampires.

“That’s your father, Ekim,” said Castall.

I gasped. This was the first time I’d seen him. My stare was directed to a female. A dozen or so freckles were scattered over her nose.

“That’s your mother, Saraphine.”

My eyes welled up, but I couldn’t open them to release tears. I tightened my grip on William’s hand. I knew the other pair of star-struck lovebirds were his parents.

I’d explained to William what I’d just seen. “Did you know about this?”

“Yes, my parents told me.” Then he asked Castall, “Do you know anything about them? Where are they?”

“I can only show you the past, not the future. I do know your journey will be hard. You will have to let Sarah go, only to find her. Here.” He handed William a shiny stone. “Squeeze this crystal when you think there’s no hope.” Turning to me, he held out a small wooden stick. “Thump the bottom of this stick twice when there is no way out, and you’ll find an exit.”

“How do we know we’re using them at the right time?” I asked.

“You’ll know. I must go now. I bid you well on your journey. Stay strong, and don’t lose hope—your mission means more than you think.” He looked around before whispering a warning, “Beware of Xela.”

Castall hit the side of the Hummer with his cane. A rectangular doorway with edges that sizzled with a purple glow materialized. He walked into the opening, disappeared, and the portal closed behind him. I stared at the lavender mist that carried a lilac scent dissipating around it.

“Who’s Xela?” William stared where Castall had disappeared.

“You’re asking me, Mr. Know-it-all?”

William closed his eyes as if sensing underworld energy. “I don’t think we should stick around here.” He nudged me toward the car. “I certainly do wish I knew it all, though,” he added, climbing in the driver’s seat. He fastened his seatbelt, started the car, and floored the gas pedal.

An hour and a half later, the two-lane road turned to dirt. Another two hours passed as the dirt road narrowed into a track that wound its way between taller, older trees. It wasn’t too long before the track shrank into a trail. Large fern fronds brushed against the Hummer’s sides and roof, and I felt as if we were bouncing along in a buggy amongst the overgrown vegetation.

Deeper in the Amazon, the luscious greens reached higher toward the sky, and the forest floor began to clear. Three hours passed before we stopped at the edge of a river. We opened the car doors, and I stepped out, welcoming the hot but fresh air and its dampness. The thick warmth reminded me of my store, and I promised myself to one day return and fix the damage I imagined the seekers evoked.

I looked at the murky water. “Where to now?”

“Now we wait at the crossing.” William pointed to the narrow path leading toward the riverbank. “For Agubab to bring the boat.”

“Agu-who?” I shuffled my feet, eager to see the secret place William spoke of so obliquely.

“Agubab. He’s an Amazon native and he knows this forest better than anyone.” William tilted his head up to the sky, stretching his arms. “He’s also a good friend of the family. He’ll help us cross the river.” He leaned forward to peek around an acai tree toward a curve in the river. As if summoned by his gaze, a wooden raft appeared, sliding through the muddy water.

“That’s a boat?” I lifted an eyebrow and pointed an imperious finger at the wooden contraption. “We’re getting on
that
?”

“Yes,” he drawled, then laughed. “With the Hummer.”

“But that’s impossible. We’ll sink,” I said in a high-pitched voice.

“Don’t underestimate the strength and precision of the Amazonians in constructing a raft. It’s sturdier than many North American yachts.”

I sniffed. “If this is anything close to a yacht, I think I’d rather swim.” Even
though I can’t swim
.

“Yeah, and the water bugs wouldn’t bother you at all,” William muttered as if to himself.

I wanted to believe William—that the thousand or so twined bamboo poles would hold us up—but it was difficult. The raft was steered by a long wooden stick. Agubab, an older man with dark skin and deep scars across the top of his arms, gripped the pole near its top, pushing the end back and forth in the river to gain momentum. Native jewellery decorated his neck, wrists, and ankles. Beside him stood a small boy, maybe seven, who seemed to stare, unblinking.

Only when it floated closer did I notice that the raft widened into a larger area at the back, almost large enough to load a car. At the rear of the raft, a wooden box covered something that resembled an engine. My gaze returned to Agubab.

“Panther,” William supplied, following my gaze. He jerked his chin toward a thick white line smudged down the middle of Agubab’s forehead. “Tribal marking.”

“Stop reading my face.” I punched his arm, laughing.

He laughed.

Agubab leaped on the shore. He and William pulled the front of the raft on the bank and secured it to the trees on either side. A small ripple of water touched the shore as they loaded the Hummer, but the raft didn’t wobble under the vehicle’s weight.

I tapped my toe on the bamboo deck before stepping aboard. It didn’t budge. Adrenaline mixed with something else pumped through my veins. Whatever it was, it allowed my body to better absorb the natural elements around me.

We cruised through the jungle for over an hour. The raft turned into a narrower passage, then another. I ducked under long vines that hung from a lowering forest canopy while William crouched near Agubab, talking about the weather and activities in the forest. When he and his son Nats helped us off, William handed them a brown bag full of supplies. I smelled a mixture of chemicals and pharmaceuticals. The natives guided the raft farther down the river until they disappeared.

Soon I was enjoying the air-conditioned interior of the Hummer scented with the smells of the jungle. I ran my finger over my damp arm, then held it to my nose. Images of the jungle’s wild denizens appeared in my mind, conjured by traces of odour each one had left in the droplets clinging to the hairs on my arm. It was impossible to block out the littlest creatures. Just thinking about them sent chills down my spine.

The dense canopy didn’t let much light through. I looked around for the animals I sensed, but couldn’t spot them. Everything melded into a green backdrop. The trees were as tall as the Eiffel Tower, their branches dense with foliage casting dark shadows over the landscape below. Branches of several trees intertwined, further knitted by vines and creeper plants that created snarled green nests and spidery lattices between the trunks. The shades of green ranged from blackish corbeau to the palest breath of verdure and eye-popping citreous tones; most I’d never seen before. High atop the canopy, where the sun still oozed amongst all the leaves, a rainbow of flowers bloomed.

Paradise. We are in paradise
, I thought in awe, my eyes never stopping their perusal of the exotic vegetation. I opened the window and stuck my head out. Hot wind curled around my face.

“You like it?” William asked.

“I thought my store was a rain forest, but this . . . this is beyond beautiful.” I pulled my head back in. “How much farther?”

“Another hour, no longer—I promise.”

“How do you not get lost?” I asked.

“GPS,” he answered.

Not seeing the typical device, I looked at William and noticed the digital watch on his right wrist displaying our coordinates. Which struck me as odd; he was right-handed.

“I don’t like to cover up my tattoo,” he said as if reading my thought.

I smiled and allowed nature to sink into my heart—the sounds, the smells, the changes in temperature, the fauna, the flora—everything worked so well together, one dependant on another. The same way I depended on William.

As we neared the end of the drive, a spot of bright pink slid past the corner of my eye. I craned my head to the right toward the dark forest floor, trying for a better view. “Was that an orchid?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“It grows with so little light?” I knew these orchids existed; but had never imported them.

“Yes, it’s a rare species.”

“Look, another one!”

William laughed. “Turn and look out the other side.”

I did and gasped. Dozens of flowers, bunched together, glowed amidst the greenery, so many I lost count. Their numbers grew to the thousands, their species into the hundreds. The explosion of colour was endless. How could something this magical be hidden from the rest of the world? I was sure the glow of this exotic paradise must be visible from space.

“We’re almost there. Just . . . around . . . the corner . . .” William turned to the right, guided the Hummer down a steep hill and straight through a wall of bush, then onto a narrow track that magically appeared beyond it. At its end, a rustic log cabin sat nestled amongst the trees in the middle of a circular clearing of freshly mown grass. Given the amount of shade here, I was surprised the grass took so well. This was clearly not a natural floor for the rainforest. A dozen or so sunrays squeezed through the canopy in thin streaks to touch on the clearing, forming oval patches of light on the green carpeting. The long, ribbon-like rays seemed like a touch of heaven that watched over the hidden clearing.

The cabin had round trunks stacked horizontally, corners interlaced at the sides, and two wooden chairs and a small round table were on the front porch. The structure was old but well taken care of; someone had planted flowers in deep pots, and ivory sheers fluttered in the front window; two candle chandeliers hung at opposite ends of the porch.
I’ve seen this place before. Not in my dreams, though. I’m sure I would have remembered a dream this beautiful.

“Helen was here,” I said, remembering the photo of her sitting on the porch.

“Yes, just before you were born.” William’s voice was quiet. “And awhile after, to take care of you.” I felt his intense eyes on me, watching my reaction.

“The shadow of a man in the photo—”

“My father.”

He knew the contents of the chest, then—at least some of them.

We parked on the left side of the cabin.

“Agubab?” I didn’t have to elaborate; William read my facial expressions all too well.

“Yes, he’s the only one who knows about this place, maintains in when I’m gone. We can trust him.”