The Lebrus Stone (43 page)

I could hear her walk along the gravel. Briskly. Unsteady.

"It's here," she said, gasping for breath.

The door slammed shut and pressed on the top of my skull. I tried not to squeal.

"Great, thanks," he mumbled. He moved away from the car door. "You know, I could have sworn I put the car alarm on earlier."

Her feet clumsily followed him. "You sure? Maybe you just thought you did."

"You okay?" he asked, concerned, but seeming in a rush to show it.

"Yes." She panted.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I just wanted to see you properly before you left." Her words were jittery.

Come on, Jess, you can do this.

"You've seen me." I could tell he was smiling. A part of me wished to see it. "All night," he slurred.

Not now.

"I know." I sensed she was fluttering her eyelashes.

There was a snippet of a sound, possibly a peck on the cheek, then another silence.

The sound of full lip smacking action came next. I covered my ears and hummed in my head.

Finally, the car door opened and Gal plopped his bulky weight in.

Something heavy was thrown on my back.

I had to bite down on my hand as my eyes watered from the wind being taken out of me. I wriggled it into a safer position, like my butt.

The engine started and Gal reversed with a rough jerk, then sped through the open gates, almost sending me rolling onto the cluttered floor.

He travelled over a few bumps and swerved in and out of awkward lanes. He drove at a smoother speed. It was still too fast, but less like a speed racer on cocaine.

I tried to relax, but I was afraid the crazy driving would start up again, leaving me with no control over my balance. Luckily, he switched on the radio and I could breathe without worrying he could hear me.

Def Leppard blared from one station. He switched to Mariah Carey. He switched again.

After a lot more switching and driving me to the point of wanting to pull out his car stereo and throw it out the window, he settled for some light rhythm and blues. It suited the moment. He sang along sometimes. His voice was far from easy listening.

He seemed to be driving for hours. Every time he slowed down and made me think he was ready to pull up, he revved his engine and bolted forward. The car eventually leaned into a bend and swerved in and out like we were on somebody's trail.

The turbulence stopped and the car slowed, chugging on what I assumed was a paved lane that dipped every few seconds.

It grew darker. Twigs and leaves scratched and swiped across the rolled up windows. A few black berries squished and trickled down the glass. The sun must have been hidden by the wild assemblage of trees.

Gal finally parked, stepped out and lifted the heavy load from my butt. I sighed the moment he left.

When enough minutes had passed for me to feel sure I could resurface and head to my next shelter, I shuffled out of the tangle of sheets and peered out of the windows every now and again to see if anyone was lurking. I had to check nobody was secretly aware of me.

Gal hadn't set the alarm, so I jumped out and ran for cover, hiding behind a tree and a row of shrubbery. I stayed there until I could figure out where I was supposed to be going. The Dia'ac couldn't have been far from where he parked.

Birds didn't tweet, which was strange around such a vast amount of woodland. It was so dark it seemed close to midnight, rather than noon. A shiver ran through me with the sudden overwhelming need to run. The proximity of something or someone drawing close came to mind like a brain storm.

An abrasive wind knocked me to my knees. Shiny red shoes appeared inches from my nose. I could see my horrified expression in them.

"You must be Millisant," a child's voice said, soft but firm.

A girl around three feet in height and wearing a red cape was holding a basket of fresh berries. She reminded me of Little Red Riding Hood. It was once a favorite fairytale of mine.

"Yes, it is me," I replied in my most astute and controlled voice. I had a feeling I should be who she thought.

Her tiny nose wrinkled. "Have you travelled here on foot? You smell vile."

"I, uh, like to walk. I fell on the way here."

"In sewage?" She wrinkled her nose again.

"No, in a ditch," I spluttered, becoming nervous around someone half my size. She didn't act or sound like a child. Maybe she was a minion.

"Never mind. You're here to keep watch, not banter."

"Yes," I agreed, scrambling to my feet.

She walked ahead in quick steps, her hooded head bobbing up and down. I tried to appear as together and sophisticated, all the while fearing I might be caught.

"You're late," she chirped.

"I'm sorry. I was held up in…paperwork."

She peered at me as if I had said something in a foreign language. "You work for Zeron, not paperwork."

Well that was me put in my place.

"Yes, yes, of course."

We stepped under an archway that was stone flagged and entwined with holly.

"What's your name?" I inquired to make conversation.

"Mihad." She sprinted to a high wall and climbed it with little effort. I did the same with great difficulty compared to her gracefulness.

We landed in a bed of lilies. She trampled all over them without a care for their breaking stems, then turned to wave me over.

I bristled at her tsking, and reluctantly followed her under another archway that led into a tunnel. It was narrow, dim, and smelled of damp. Spiders dangled and tickled my face.

I hated spiders. I hated anything tiny that moved too fast. And here I was, swatting zillions of them out of my way while Mihad brushed them aside like a minor nuisance.

I would show her brave, I thought. I could handle this. I could handle anything as long as I kept my eyes closed during it. It was becoming my motto.

We reached an opening that led to a place that was somehow darker than where we left. An ultra glowing moon hovered above a tall building made of a metallic colored stone.

Two oblong towers stood on either side of its complexity. A high-beamed, cylinder-shaped middle was crowned and adorned with statues. On closer inspection, they were gargoyle like creatures lining the front door entrance and around each tower. Their mouths formed a snarl.

Gothic wasn't the word to describe such a classical formation. But I was beginning to devise a clear picture of its occupants: submerged in morbidity.

I was visible to the enemies. Before I could sink into a brink of panic, Mihad pulled me into a side entrance.

The thick stone door grated open, closing just as noisily behind us. I held my hair across my face in an  attempt to shield my identity, just in case I was recognized as being someone other than Millisant, the guard. A guard to what, I was afraid to ask.

There was no one in sight, only large flames burned in glass sconces along the sides of the corridors, warming the cool conditions of concrete.

We stopped at a door which looked to have hanging, dry Bergamot and rabbits' feet still bleeding from a recent amputation.

I wanted to hyperventilate. Not from the sight of blood for once, but the fact that I was actually inside, among the Dia'ac. And as strange as it sounded, I was excited, almost appeased by my half victory.

I couldn't get carried away, though. There was a long way to go. This was only the beginning, and I didn't know what was waiting for me on the other side of the gross door.

Mihad opened it and inside was a bed, one table and a large, lidded box. There were no windows, and the walls dripped with murky water that smelled like rotten eggs.

Mihad stood beside the bed and lifted the sheets. "He's an out waited, porous," she said in a pitying tone that didn't suit her.

I still couldn't see who she was referring to. I didn't want to blow my hopes up on who I needed it to be. Although the way things were looking, it would have been best if I was wrong.

"Watch and wait," she commanded, leaving me alone in the horrible room. No one could be expected to heal in such hazardous and stinky living conditions.

I sauntered over to the bed. The sheet twitched and someone groaned. I couldn't believe it. There was barely a physical form.

"Cray," I whispered "Cray, is that you?"

There was another groan. Something was slightly beating.

"Cray?"

I was about to pull away the sheet, for and against what I was about to reveal.

But there was movement outside. I couldn't risk being seen by anyone other than Mihad. I knew that much. After lifting the lid from the large wooden box, I stepped inside and sat on the bed of dirty laundry and closed it shut a little with the attached rope.

A young girl entered, wearing a red velvet gown and a black leather belt that had a gold and silver emblem around her trim waist. Her shiny black hair was poker straight and knee length. She reminded me of a dark Rapunzel. Who was next?
Lucifer's version of the Seven Dwarfs?

She crossed the room and sat her pert behind on the edge of Cray's bed. I didn't like her one bit.

"Cray, do wake." She lifted the sheet from his face.

There he was, crumpling into himself, like he had been mummified and excavated. It didn't look like him at all. It looked like an imposter in his place, with some femme fatale kissing his inverted lips.

He groaned and muttered. Something caught in his throat, like a chortle or cluck of his tongue.

"What," she whispered. "What is it?"

The room fell silent. She lowered her head and peered down between her pert breasts to scoop out a miniscule glass bottle. Raising the needle thin decanter, she allowed two droplets of deep blue liquid to fall onto his shriveled lips.

Cray's lips began to separate. There was another chortle vibrating from his throat. He seemed to be laughing, but at what? What could have been so funny when he was lying there like a sun dried apricot?

The waxy complexion of the girl's face leaned in closer to the parted cracks of his mouth. But he just coughed in it, splattering her with black saliva that ran down her neck. I wanted to give him a high five for good timing.

The girl snarled something and ran her hands down her neck. Her nails were pointed, sharp, and naturally black. I could tell by the way they didn't shine, and the fact that I could have sworn they weren't that way when she walked into the room.

Even from the side, I could see her pupils had turned red and huge in size.

"Why, you useless pile of half human bones. I could have been your chosen if you hadn't been so careless and desired a part Fallion."

She said Fallion like it was a disease that could wipe out every living organism.

His mouth parted and he shook as he lifted his head. "Ah…ah…I ch…choose n-n-no one. S…s so as t-to die." He dropped his head back onto the pillow.

"Then you are no use to me or the Dia'ac. Go quickly." She pressed a hand to his forehead. "And depart."

She kissed him, long and savored, then stood in the blink of an eye, flicking her lustrous long hair to the side. It slapped Cray on the cheek, making it crumble.

She left and I allowed a few minutes to pass before re-emerging from the box, shaking myself free of dirty laundry. Although Cray's eyes were closed, he was smiling.

I wasn't sure why. He was in the worst state I had ever seen him. He was like a two hundred year old man who refused to give in to nature's will. But this wasn't natural or fair. He was too young to die, especially like this.

"Cray, it's me. Crys."

"I-know," he rasped clenching his chest. "I knew…you'd…find me."

"It's okay. Don't speak." I kneeled beside him and rested my hand over his. It was dry and coarse. "We need to complete the exchange."

His expression turned acrid. He gurgled something. It sounded like, "No."

"You have no choice and neither do I, Cray. How else are you supposed to save me?"

"I'll…" He squirmed, but I held him down as I sliced the knife across the palm of my hand. His eyes bulged and he shook his head.

"Drink up, Cray. Time to turn into a full Sha'lac." I wasn't even sure of it.

He clamped his mouth shut, refusing to open it, as if he knew a way to save me from beyond the grave. I easily pried his lips open and forced my fingers in between his gums since he had no teeth. He gave in quickly and sucked hard, chomping into my hand with a desperate hunger. I tried not to scream as he tugged and pulled me deeper into the growing warmth of his mouth.

Sharp teeth then appeared and bit through my hand, almost tearing out a chunk of it. I could see a zig zag of lights. I wanted to lie down, but he wouldn't let go. His hands gripped mine.

I had to make him stop before he drained me.

The knife was still clenched in my other hand. There was no other way to make him stop. I plunged it into his leg. He yelped and gritted his teeth, teeth that were long and overlapping from top to bottom.