Jamyria: The Entering (The Jamyria Series Book 1) (23 page)

“Guess we weren’t as sneaky as we hoped,” Cameron mutters.

They slosh their way out of the creek and cross the field.

“There you are!” Ian shouts furiously. “Where have you been? We were about to start up a search party.”

Cameron holds up his hands defensively. “I was just showing Margo the fairies.”

The Witch stands calmly at the threshold of her house.

“The fairies?” Ian says. He sounds as if something is lodged in the back of his throat. “You risk taking her out in the woods with the Beast wandering around, for
fairies
?”

“As you can see,” says Margo, “nothing happened.”

Ian eyes her skeptically. “Nothing?”

“Nothing,” Cameron confirms.

“I don’t get you two sometimes….” Ian mumbles. He shakes his head at the ground.

“What are you doing up anyway?” Cameron asks.

“I had a vision dee girl stormed off,” the Witch speaks up. “I awoke to find you missing, and asked Ian if he knew where you’d gone off to.”

Ian’s jaw clenches. “Just don’t wander off anymore.”

“We’re fine,” Margo repeats, taking a step closer.

The stars still swim in the purple sky above. It is too early to be considered morning, but late enough not necessarily go back to sleep. And with the others alert, it seems Margo and Cameron aren’t going to get the additional sleep they desperately need. The Witch returns inside to reheat the prior night’s stew while the three of them gather around the bonfire.

“Don’t worry about them,” Cameron whispers.

Margo forces a smile, secretly hating their first date ended so abruptly.

Ian keeps his back to them, facing out into the black forest as if searching for something. His two swords are already strapped to his back in a crisscross. Muscles tense. He remains still, fists clenched at his sides as he watches the night woods.

“What’s up with him?” Margo asks. “Another deer?”

Cameron pulls Margo toward the house. “Don’t know,” he says, though he doesn’t seem to really be focusing on her.

Margo’s stomach twists, letting out another growl.

“Go eat,” he orders.

She stares at him, worried by his and Ian’s behavior.

“We’ll be there in a sec,” he assures her. “I just want to have a talk with him first.”

Margo pauses. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

His jaw clenches. “Of course.”

Chapter Nineteen: Destiny Despised

“Can you help me?” It is the first time Margo has been alone with the Witch, so she takes advantage of the opportunity.

“I can try my best,” she says, her accent thick as ever.

“We came here for guidance. I’m the New Mark, yeah, but have no idea what I’m expected to do. And so far no one can tell me where to even start. I’m just expected to figure out how to...save the world”

“Dee task is difficult. Your marks,” she says holding out her hand.

Margo holds out her arms as she once had what seemed like ages ago for Nick. The Witch places her hands above her marks with her fingers moving like dancing spider’s legs up and down her arms. Margo isn’t quite sure what she’s doing, but hopes she’s searching out the meaning of them.

“Marks are tricky things,” she finally says. “Each original is different, each unique. Like a fingerprint, your mark is your own. But,” she pauses placing her rough hand on Margo’s left arm, “if you wish, you may leave your ‘fingerprint’ on anything you desire.”

Margo slides her arm out from the Witch’s hand, unsure how to react.

“I’m not looking to pass my mark on. I just want to get us out of here….”

“And so you shall, Margo Grisby. With dee right direction, you shall….”

Margo had hoped to have been shown that direction, but first…. “Nick said you could translate these marks.”

The Witch’s eyes dart between the marks and Margo’s face. “Nick said dat, did he?” Her lips crack as quiet laughter breaks through. “Translate an ancient script like dis, without da proper research available? I never could depict dee meaning of his marks. So why would he assume I could do so with yours?” The last question sounds directed to herself.

“So this trip was a waste, then?” Margo snorts.

“If it’s translation you seek, yes.”

The short statement stings. They’d traveled so far, fought through so much to make it here, and to find out it was for nothing…

“But,” she continues, “what you need more dan translation is direction.”

She immediately captured Margo’s attention again.

“Translating da marks will do little when it comes to escaping Jamyria, I can almost guarantee dat. It’s a nudge in dee right direction you need.” The frustration builds as Margo remembers Nick saying the exact same thing when he sent them to the Witch. And to discover he knew the marks couldn’t be translated all along….

“What do I have to do?” Margo asks through gritted teeth.

“Begin in dee castle. From da things I’ve studied of dis world, everything seems to fall back to the main globe — dee Queen’s larger one. It brings da people on dee outside into dis world. Destroy it.”

“Where in the castle is it?” Margo asks, relieved to gain some momentum in the conversation.

“Always by her side. Always…”

Cameron and Ian suddenly sling open the door laughing together. Margo’s spirit lifts as Cameron crosses over to sit next to her. She doesn’t ask what happened with Ian, who helps himself to more stew. It feels like a group of friends gathered around a dinner table again. The Witch remains silent in the corner, simply watching their interactions, until after some time she stands and clears her throat.

“I have important messages to share.” She crosses the room to stand before the fire. “Dese messages are from my sightings. Things you must always hold close to dee heart. Remember dem, recite dem, and do not ignore dem — it may cost you your life.”

The three of them glance between each other.

“Ian,” she says placing her tan hand upon his shoulder. “Hold on to what you lose.”

His eyes narrow. “If I lose it, how will I hold onto it?”

“Cameron,” she continues without acknowledging Ian’s question. Her face grows cold as her green eyes lock with Cameron’s. “Abandon love, so dat you can bite your tongue.”

Margo feels a shiver roll down her back. Did this woman just tell Cameron to break up with her?

“And, Margo, trust who shouldn’t be dere for you to trust.” She takes her seat once more and repeats, “Remember dem, do not ignore dem.”

The words flood her mind: abandon love, trust who she shouldn’t, what’s lost….

“I see your future, Mark,” she continues. “Your path is painted in blood. And you hold dee paintbrush on your hip.” She gestures to the sword Margo now wears. “I see death caused by you. Much death, I might add. But it’s all right, yes, dose who die will be all right. She is stronger dan you realize, Cameron. Many will stand in her way, and all of dem will fall.”

“You — I’m not — I’m not some murderer!” Margo splutters.

“Not yet,” the Witch provokes. “Dis world is your happy place now, but you are da new leader. And you will lead us to massacre. Many will die. Even some you love.” Her smile turns wicked.

“That’s enough.” Ian’s voice is firm.

Margo hadn’t realized she was digging her nails into her palms until she relaxes her hands. Some she loves will die…? Her eyes dart to Cameron once more.

The Witch leans away, a cocky expression upon her face. “For now you are a happy girl floating along in dis world. Isn’t dat right?”

“What…are you talking about?”

“Dey want you to help dem escape, but for you, Margo Grisby, dis is your escape. Tell me, what do you run from in da Real World. What makes you love dis world more dan dat one?”

“I —”

“You are hiding from something, am I right? What do you hide?”

Margo looks at Cameron for help until it is too much to bear. Nick was wrong; this woman doesn’t care about them. He knowingly sent them to disaster.

“I quit,” Margo says suddenly, jumping to her feet. She grabs her backpack and begins stuffing belongings back in it.

The Witch laughs. “You cannot escape who you are. It doesn’t work dat way. Isn’t dat right, Ian?”

His jaw clenches.

“Do you know what I think?” says Margo, shaking Cameron’s hand off her shoulder. “I think you’re a crazy lady who’s been alone in the middle of the forest for too long. You’re insane, and when you finally do get out of this world, you’ll be locked away for the rest of your life — immortality or not!”

The Witch’s face warms slightly. She looks as if she pities Margo. “Dis is your destiny, child,” she simply states.

Margo nearly loses her step.

“Ah, I see…. You’ve lost your light. It has burned out.”

She places a hand on Margo’s. A burst of memories flash through her mind. Kylie…

“I am truly sorry to see dis. But I think it’s time you realize dat you don’t need a light anymore. Not when dere is already so much light within yourself.”

Margo snatches her hand away and opens her mouth to retort, but she realizes it isn’t worth the fight. “I have to get out of here,” she mumbles. “I have to leave.”

She slings her bag over her shoulder and disappears behind the door.

“Margo, wait!” Cameron shouts following after her.

The sounds of his pleas fade leaving nothing but the quiet of Ian and the Witch’s breathing.

“Well,” the Witch says. She groans as she lowers herself in her seat. “What are you gonna do?”

The corner of Ian’s lip pulls up. “Lead them to the castle, of course.”

“Very good, yes.”

*

“Margo!” shouts Cameron. “Margo, stop! Just stop for a minute!”

Her chest has a stitch. The woods thin half a mile south of where they met the Beast the day before. She slows her pace, eyes darting about the perimeter and freeze. For a split second she swears she sees the silhouette of a person. Or is it a trick of the early morning light? The stars have settled, and her eyes are still adjusting after the disappearance of the pulsing light.

The sound of shuffling gravel gives her a start. Cameron skids to a stop behind her. She blinks hard and the shape is no longer there.

“Can we talk about —”

“Give it a rest, man!” Ian apparently has caught up with them.

For some reason, Cameron obeys, and they follow her in silence.

Margo wanders off the path, traveling in no particular direction. Neither of the boys oppose, allowing her work through whatever sort of episode she is having. The longer she trudges through the forest in silence, the worse she feels.

I see death caused by you…

Those wretched words ring in Margo’s head. Her cheeks darken in rage.

On the other hand, she worries that the loved one who dies will be Cameron. And if that’s the case, how can she continue to allow him to be around her? How will she be able to ditch him if she needs to? She cannot live through that torment again.

How did she know about my light, about Kylie?
Margo’s expression turns black.

They approach an opening, one she recognizes. The bubbling brook spills into the swimming hole they swam yesterday. Her feet sink into the ground, leaving muddy footprints behind. She follows the shore in the direction away from the Witch. The further they travel, the hillier the grounds become — small bluffs form along the stream, which Margo clambers atop, the boys still in tow.

Her steps slow as she focuses her attention on the dark water below. Though the stars have hidden themselves as morning nears, the sun has yet to rise. Without its synthetic light, the forest almost shares the hues of the Real World.

The Real World.
Margo blinks back hot tears. How could the Witch accuse her of not wanting to return? It’s true, there are things she would rather not face that haunt her still, but that doesn’t mean she’s hiding from them...does it?

“What’s going on, Margo?” Cameron seems to have taken advantage of her slowing down. “Why are you running away, saying you want to quit?”

Margo resumes her pace and treks down the bluff’s slope. “I’m not running away….”

“Well, what do you call this?!” says Cameron. She hears him slide down behind her as she hikes up the next hill. “You’re not really hiding anything, are you?”

She shakes her head.

“Hey — STOP!”

Margo freezes on the peak of the hilltop. For the first time since she ran off, she acknowledges Cameron and looks down at him. His face is red, eyes puffy as if suppressing tears.

“You — you make me feel so stupid!” He grinds his teeth together. “This whole time…. I’ve asked you over and over if you were alright, because something has been off about you. Something’s different. I thought it was this place, but it’s not, is it? So tell me…
. What is it really? What are you keeping from me?”

Her lips part. She catches Ian’s neutral gaze from behind Cameron.

“So much has happened since your last visit,” she whispers, and she can no longer face him. “Something bad happened, Cam.”

She turns to hike on, descending down the other side of the slope. The words are so close now; she knows they will flow from her easily as long as she doesn’t look at him. “Everything sort of fell apart after you left.”

Margo freezes mid-step.

He blended in so well with the scenery that Margo hadn’t at first noticed the man she faces who looks down upon her. He is tall and lanky, yet muscular, with a low buzz cut. Crew Member. He licks his lips as he eyes Margo.

She lets out a raw scream and stumbles backwards, slipping in the mud. His eyes rake over her.

She hears them rushing in, Cameron and Ian, but she cannot tear her eyes from this man. His skin is tan, blending beautifully with his muddy brown eyes and sandy blond hair that she wishes to run her hands in. She longs to touch him, to take in his every detail. His angular cheekbones and full lips, his taut muscles….

Margo blinks hard, casting away the faux desire.
Is this a sick trick from the mark that is surely on the back of his head?
She forces herself awake, just as she had when the globe drew her in.

More men suddenly emerge from behind trees; they approach Cameron and Ian as the first man grasps Margo by wrists. She struggles against his pull and he belts out a twisted laugh. “Find all the men of the group. Kill them,” he yells as he pulls Margo into the trees.

She jerks her arms to try and hit him but cannot break his grip. She aims her knee for his groin instead, but he predicts her move and stomps on her other foot. Margo screams in pain which only sets him off more. He shoves her up against a tree, the bark digging into her jacket.

“You go straight for a low blow,” he growls and presses his knee into her inner thigh to pin her to the tree. He grabs her cheeks and squeezes so tightly her eyes water. His rough tongue licks the side of her face. Then he shakes her head so hard her brain rattles.

“Look at them,” he says gruffly in her ear, forcing her gaze upon the boys. “Desperately trying to survive. It’s futile.” He breathes in her scent. “What’s your name? Come on, don’t be shy….”

She catches a glimpse of Cameron struggling against a Crewman. “M-Margo.”

“Good. That wasn’t so hard, now, was it? My name is Saul. We’re going to get well acquainted, you and me.” His breath tickles her ear. She cringes. “Hold still. I don’t want to kill you; it doesn’t have to be that way. You just do as you’re told, cooperate. Your fate will be decided once I’m through with you.”