Sapphire (8 page)

She recognized the voice. The same frigid arrogant
voice that had demanded her from her father right before falling,
falling, falling from those protective arms.

More silence. Then a different female voice broke
the forest symphony of crickets and frogs.

“
Are you an angel?”

Shawna finally recognized the voice as Mary’s and
knew the male voice must be John’s.

“
An angel of your salvation, but my power wanes
here. I must leave. I will return for her when she is
sixteen.”

“
We will keep her for you,” said Mary,
practically in tears as she spoke to the apparition.

“
Pray for my return,” said the being that called
itself an angel. “And you shall be rewarded for your
services.”

But the words were surrounded by snares.

The visions were fading. She blinked her eyes. Dark
tree trunks were blurring past.

“Ouch!” snorted Mira. “Don't yank my mane out, I'm
rather vain of it.”

“Huh,” Shawna said, still recovering from the
visions.

She frowned, trying to remember the voices, but the
long-forgotten memory was fading. Rays of early sunlight set the
hills ablaze as they galloped into an enormous field. The cold
darkness of the forest was quickly dissipating like her memories.
Morning's warm glowing arms wrapped around her face and hands while
Lula stirred from inside the pack. Mira slowed to a canter and
finally to a walk far from the forest's edge. Her sides were
heaving, and Shawna realized they must have been galloping half the
night.

“Why’d you do that?” Shawna said, touching her
temples. She whirled around. “Where did it go?!”

She expected to see the monster leap from the
shadows, but everything was still; only birds chirped their morning
greetings.

“I had to blind you from it.” Mira’s legs trembled
for a moment, but she kept walking.

“Did I faint?”

“You did. I nearly lost you once, but I kept you
aware enough to hold onto me.”

“I don’t like it when you do that. It makes me feel
so—”

“Vulnerable?” Mira rolled an eye back at her.

“Um, yeah. Can you also see what I see?”

“Only if I open my mind to yours as well. In this
case, I did not.”

Relief washed over Shawna, stemming more from the
embarrassing memory of Jarred than the mysterious one with the
apparition. “Just don’t do it anymore. Please.”

“I give you my word. I felt it was necessary in that
moment. You were both giving it too much power. Molochs feed on
another’s energy, in this case your fear.”

Shawna glanced back at the receding forest. “That’s
what came for me at my house. Why? Tell me what they are.”

“Not now,” Mira laid her ears back. “What did I just
tell you? Keep your thoughts away from it. I will explain later in
a safer location. We’re nearly there.”

“What?” said a drowsy little voice before Shawna
could ask
where.

Lula emerged with something wiggling on her head.
“What happened? Is it gone?”

“Um, Lula,” said Shawna, pointing at her. “I

think there's a worm on your head.”

Lula looked unconcerned. She slowly raised her hand,
grabbed the worm, and flung it into the tall grasses.

“I
told
Capella nobody likes worms except
her.”

She settled down between Mira's ears and blinked a
few times.

“I fell asleep. What did the fuzz-ball have to
say?”

It seemed Lula had remembered everything but the
race for their lives all night.

“You don’t re—” Shawna started to say before Mira
laid her ears back at her.

“Say nothing,” she privately said to Shawna. “I
don’t like to use such power because using memories to cloud one’s
mind can be dangerous. You never know what might be brought forth,
but in this case it was best.”

“Hello?” Lula said directly into Mira’s ear. “Can
you
hear
me?”

“All too well, Lula,” Mira said, twisting her ear
away. “The LorLor warned us of the risen molochs. It sensed the
dark intent in their souls, so we left. And yes, you fell
asleep.”

Shawna wondered what kind of memories were buried
deep in Lula’s mind. It was hard to imagine that any of them were
bad.

Mira turned an ear back at Shawna. “Do not dismount,
just in case.”

“No problem.” She nodded and looked at the ground
like it had become molten lava. “What aren’t you telling me? Why
can’t you just
explain
everything? What’s the big
secret?”

Mira snorted like a parent exasperated with their
child’s tantrum, then said so only Shawna could hear, “You are
impatient, angry, and afraid, three reasons it would be unwise to
tell you anything right now.” She went on before Shawna could spout
her frustration again. “Simply being
told
certain knowledge
is useless. Discovering it for yourself makes all the difference.
You were told that souls exist but did you believe it? No, you
didn’t. There is more at risk here than your own self. The molochs
are growing stronger since you have come back.” It seemed like she
wanted to say more but fell silent.

Something in the way she said that last phrase
chilled the words on Shawna’s tongue and she let them drop,
unspoken, like icicles. Mira turned her head to look at her.

“Woo!” shouted Lula, waving her arms. “Tell me when
you're going to move your head next time. I almost fell in your
ear.”

Mira tossed her head, and Lula flew head over wings
into the air.

“Hey!” she glowered, fluttering above their heads.
“You want a pink mane? I’ll do it. I will.”

“You want six legs to go with those wings?” Mira
bantered back. “I’ll do it.”

Lula suddenly found something very interesting on
her dress and started fiddling with it. Shawna looked behind at the
receding forest again. There was no sign of their pursuers. Only a
large hawk circled in the distance then disappeared towards the
mountains.

“By the way,” Lula said, flying over to Mira. “Where
are
we, and how in flapping-arms did we get here?”

“I galloped all night because there’s something I
want you to see that happens here only at sunrise.”

“Wow,” said Lula, “that’s, uh, spunky…and nice of
you.” She gave Shawna a look of
and-you-thought-
you-
were-crazy.

Shawna tried to keep her features straight and not
tip Lula off to Mira’s blatant lie. She was spared the effort when
they stepped to the hills summit and beheld what lay in the valley
below. She gasped in amazement.

Giant spires of crystal, some as tall as sky
scrapers, dominated the land as far as she could see. They
glittered and shimmered in the early light, shivering for the sun's
touch. The magnificent mountain range hunched its huge shoulders,
allowing a few spears of light to fly and glance off crystal
towers, splintering them into shards of color. The sparse trees
dotting the landscape were completely overpowered by this fantastic
spectacle. She first thought it was a natural phenomenon, beyond
any world wonder she could ever conceive of, then noticed the
crystals seemed to bend and lean, forming castle like
structures.

“The Monoliths of Kryos,” Lula whispered. “I thought
they were a myth.”

Shawna cough-laughed and decided not to say
something sarcastic to the mythical fairy's remark. She watched
breathlessly as the sun finally rose over the regal mountain range
that bowed before the marvel below. A million spears of light
collided with the crystal citadels, shattering them into waterfalls
of rainbows. The colors arced skyward in bridges of flaming hues
and created a web of fractured light.

“We found it,” said Mira. “The first realm.”

Her black coat was tinged with morning fire as they
descended into the valley.

Long white fingers, untouched with age, swept over
the dead rose bushes. For a moment they blossomed then flew from
the vines, creating a gentle whirlwind of colorful petals. They
continued to swirl, changing colors, from orange to red to violet,
following their conductor's dancing hands. The figure, with long
blonde hair like sunlight melting down her back, continued sweeping
her hands over hundreds of bare rose bushes in the crumbling
courtyard, leaving a cyclone of petals in her wake.

She flicked her wrist. Where the petals once floated
now fluttered hundreds of purplish-black butterflies. She glided to
the stairway, regally advancing up them towards a solid
stonewall.

“Oh there you are,” chided a crackling voice as she
materialized through the wall into a plain chamber.

The hidden door sealed her inside with her guest.
She raised her chin at the stooped old figure awaiting her
arrival.

“Are you sure we won’t be detected?” said the old
woman. “I cannot stay here long. Her power is still very
strong.”

“Yes. I’ve wound concealing spells into the stones
themselves,” the youthful woman answered. She stopped a few inches
from the infested nest of hair before her. A frog peered out at her
and blinked. She wrinkled her nose at it. “What do you have to tell
me?”

The frog croaked.

“Shut up, you,” said Capella, jabbing it with her
finger. “Pestering amphibian. She is
not
a Gorgon.”

The frog croaked again.

“Yes, well, I suppose she
might
be. Shall I
put you on
her
head then?”

“Enough, enough. We don’t have much time,” said the
beautiful blonde woman, waving a hand. “Did you give her the
fragments?”

“Of course. She’ll know what to do with them
eventually. Don’t worry your pretty face, or you might get
wrinkles.”

The woman looked past her, eyes staring blankly at
the opposite wall.

“Where are they traveling to?” she said.

“The Monoliths.”

They were both silent for a moment, then the younger
woman spoke, “The Monoliths, why? Does the unicorn suspect
anything? Are they being followed?”

“I doubt it. Maybe she has another reason for going
to the soleon’s lair.”

“Why is Mira taking her there?” Her face was taught
as she turned on Capella. “They’re wasting
time
.”

Capella shrugged. “If the minds of dragons are
slippery, then the mind of a unicorn is even more so. Far be it
from me, or anyone, to tell a unicorn what to do. Easier to clip
its horn.”

“
Silence!”
The woman spat, clenching her
fists.

“Forgive me,” Capella said, bowing her head. Chester
eyed the ground. “That is not what I meant to imply.” She looked up
into the woman’s blazing eyes.

“We have to be careful, Capella. You can’t be
discovered. We test the boundaries of these walls already. Her
power is weakening, yet…what if it’s all too late.” It was not a
question, but a statement of fear.

“You’re getting a wrinkle.” Capella pointed a bony
hand at the woman’s forehead. “It’s right there.”

“This is no joke.
Everything
depends on
Ava.”

“Shawna.”

“What?”

“She likes to be called Shawna.”

The woman pursed her lips and extended her hands.
“Watch her, guide her, and find out what the unicorn’s motives
are.”

“I will,” Capella said, taking the unblemished hands
into her own.

The woman whispered the next question so quietly it
was almost lost in the sighing wind outside the window. “Have you
found him?”

“No, but Sparkle and I search everyday. You
will
be together again.”

Capella scrutinized the calculating face unaltered
by time. She wondered, through blurred vision, what thoughts
chiseled the marbled mind of her sister, Adhara.