Two Halves Series (39 page)

I knew this was a dream even before she spoke, from the pattern of lines on her face and the slight squint of her eyes. Her face was as readable to me as anyone else’s. She smiled. My head hurt trying to remember where I fell asleep; perhaps that would give me some answers. But it was hard to recall. Seeing my mom confused me.

“Sarah, you’re in trouble. You have to remain strong to get through this.” She turned for a moment to look behind her.

“What do you mean? Where did you come from? You’re not alive.” My voice rose hopefully, but I knew it was too much to ask for; seeing her was bittersweet, nothing more.

“No, I’m not alive. I don’t have much time.” She glanced behind her again. “You will soon wake up, Sarah, and you’ll find yourself alone.”

“What do you mean?” Again, I strained to remember where I’d fallen asleep, trying to identify where I’d wake up. It didn’t work. The throbs in my head intensified.

“Saraphine, he’s coming,” I heard a hushed voice say. “Hurry!” Helen appeared beside my mother. Her silhouette was faint and ghostly.

I stopped doubting my dreaming state. “Helen?” I smiled, unsure why my aunt was there.

“Sarah, listen to your mother. We have to go back, Saraphine.”

“Look where obeying the rules got us!” My mother rested her hand on her sister’s shoulder, but Helen disappeared into a mist.

“Sarah, listen,” my mother said hastily. She looked so wistful, as if there was so much she wanted to say, but time would not allow it. “You have to find the ruby ring. It’s the only way he’ll see you and leave Xela. She’s not who she seems.”

“How do you know about Xela? Who is she?” I asked.

“You, Sarah. Don’t look for us; your safety is most important. Don’t give up!” She checked over her shoulder again before adding, “I love you. I always have.” She thumped her fist on her left breast and disappeared.

“Mom!” I reached out, but she was gone, faded into pink mist.

No dreams came to me after that one and I couldn’t concentrate on any thought, either; it felt as if my mind wasn’t connected to my body and its dreams. It was odd that my mind would wander off and disengage from me this way. I got nervous and expected cold chills to climb my spine, but they didn’t. Cool wind curved around my face. Strong wind, as if I were riding a bicycle downhill at full speed.

Identical feelings swept through me when I’d run at my fastest, but I knew I wasn’t running. Someone’s strong arms carried me. I couldn’t understand why I felt detached from my body while my thoughts were clear, recognizing what the body was going through.

“Let’s go! No need to burn her. She’s as good as dead here,” a familiar voice said. I recognized it as Xander’s, but these words would never leave his mouth. This voice was deeper, hoarser. I pictured sharp fangs and an elongated tongue.

As
good as dead? Urgh! Wake up, Sarah, wake up!

THUMP!

Neither dreaming nor waking but perhaps semiconscious, I fell to the ground and I felt pain. Normally, a fall from a few feet high wouldn’t register any pain, but this one did. It bent my limbs in peculiar ways, denting everywhere at once. The way the blood clot into tight, small balls in specific spots on my arms and legs, and the way they throbbed as they did, made me doubt the bruises would disappear quickly. I tried to move, feeling my body roll over marbles. Bruises and rocks. The pain didn’t wake me, and I lost consciousness.

* * *

I inhaled the scent of sweet lilac, rose, and jasmine from the bubble bath. The scent was mine and William’s, blended into one fragrance. It covered my body like an invisible silk scarf. The tub was set in the middle of a jungle. Flower petals floated on the suds. Orchids bloomed as far as I could see. The trees were wrapped in flowery blossoms, orchid shrubs grew around their bases, and the ground was covered in petals: pink, fuchsia, yellow, orange, purple, white, blue, and black.

The hot water penetrated my body, warming it. I couldn’t get enough of the heat and wanted to stay there for as long as possible. My fear and anxiety gone. The atmosphere was serene and I wanted this dream to be real.

My feet rested on the end of the tub. Steam evaporated from the tips of my toes, illuminated by the glow from two multicoloured candles on either side of the tub, their ruddy wax dripping down their sides and dribbling in ever-building ridges toward the forest floor. I breathed slowly, trying to isolate the aroma of each flower. The pollen travelled through my body, strengthening my limbs. I was at peace, unafraid, ready for a new life with William.

It was a peaceful, but brief, dream. I woke too soon—to a living nightmare.

A nightmare I’d once dreamt and had always known it would become part of my life I’d avoided it, denied it and tried to forget it. I’d convinced myself I was confused—after all, I couldn’t scar.

I was gone; dead, yet alive. When I reached out, I felt I would touch William, yet I couldn’t. My eyes lied when I saw him with me because I knew he was nowhere near. I lived a reality that seemed more like a dream. William appeared too far, and too close, for my liking.

With a great cry, I opened my eyes to find myself in the middle of dark woods. The relief of being alive washed over me in sweat. Droplets of moisture rolled from my underarms, back, and forehead and soaked my strange new clothes.

“Where am I?” I mumbled.

No one replied.

Am I still dreaming?
I hoped but knew I wasn’t.

A hollow sound came from the pit of my stomach, and it wasn’t from hunger. My gut warned me of something strange. With hesitation, I denied what I knew to be true, then quickly unbuttoned the top of my dress to touch the middle of my chest. I ran my finger along a path I remembered and leaped to my feet when I touched the cut.

No! It’s not possible!

The incision burned. The slow oozing of blood felt like hot water. I swept my hand across my chest and licked the red goo with my tongue, tasted the bitter, irony tang. My breathing became heavy and uncontrolled. My heartbeat was unfamiliar. The changing rhythm didn’t scare; the heart itself did. A foreign lump thumped inside my chest. I placed my other hand five inches below my throat and traced the incision down to the floating ribs. The small ripple of the score under my forefinger reminded me of sandpaper, covered with sticky blood that dripped from the cut. It smelled revolting. The scar hadn’t formed yet, but I knew it would.

What happened to me?

Hyperventilating, I fought to control my breathing. The air wheezed from lungs.
Breathe, Sarah. This can’t be real
, I lied to myself.

My knees weakened, and I knelt on the ground where I’d lain a moment before. My palms felt sticky where they touched the fallen leaves and dirt.
How much blood did I lose?

“William? Are you here?” I called in a whisper, with no hope in my voice.

As quickly as the words left my mouth, my hand flew up.
What happened to my voice? It’s not mine!
Fearing to speak again, I stood.

Dark shadows covered the forest, but morning neared and the sky had lightened enough for me to see my surroundings. Fog hovered above the ground; the night’s frost still covered the surface of leaves, dried grasses, and moss. The air was crisp, signalling winter’s nearness.

A stink of spoiled eggs, rotten potatoes, and old raw chicken drifted around me from the ragged clothes on my body, clothing I didn’t recognize. Wet boots were laced to my knees. Long, unkempt hair stuck to the back of my neck and the front of my wounded chest. I ran my tongue along crooked teeth, feeling nicks and chips on some, a thick layer of tartar and plaque on all. I could almost taste the yellowish stain.
But I brush my teeth
, I thought in confusion.

What did she do to me?

My hands aged, wrinkled and painted with blemishes. Broken nails trapped dirt beneath them. I placed the palms on my head and slid them slowly along the thick, snarled hair. Long hair.
No!
I thought in disbelief—in denial.

I dragged my hands on their downward path to touch a wider nose, thick lips, and a pointy chin. My features were not my own. My face did not feel like mine. Down further, I cupped breasts that had enlarged two sizes.

Tears spilled from foreign eyes to roll down unknown cheeks. The droplets were not mine; the face was not mine. A painful throb passed through me—not my heart, for the heart, like this body, wasn’t mine.

“Where is my body!” I screamed, terror and anguish driving me to my knees. Someone else’s echo vibrated throughout the forest. The breathing I thought I had under control picked up momentum. I struggled will small, quick breaths. The inhales didn’t satisfy the new lungs I owned. The threat of panic lingered.
How could I let this happen?

I closed my eyes and saw what, at first, brought a smile to my face.

William and I sat with our family at a dinner table in the hill. Mira, Xander, and Mrs. G were there, too. We were all happily celebrating our reunion. I saw myself, smiling. William had his arm around my waist in a tight embrace. We did not twitch in pain as we usually would have.

Alex’s spell worked.

The glint of a familiar shape in the back pocket of my jeans became visible when the long sweater I wore had shifted up as I sat. Alex’s dagger.

Then I heard what I dreaded. I wasn’t having a premonition or a vision of an event that would happen in the future. Some cruel joke allowed me to watch my stolen life unfold in front of my eyes.

Mrs. G looked to Xander. “Did you take Xela’s body far away?”

“She’s close to Drake’s hideaway. Once the vampires get a whiff of a witch nearby, she’s as good as dead.” His laugh was harsh, cruel; I’d never heard him sound so cold.

“It’s Xela you’re talking about. Don’t underestimate her.” Mrs. G sounded disappointed that the witch was left alive.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, Ma. I doubt she’ll even wake up,” said Mira.

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t burn her,” Mrs. G said. “Then it would have been certain.”

Mira and Xander looked doubtfully at each other, as if questioning their decision to leave the almost-dead body intact. Yet I also saw they
couldn’t
do what they wanted to. Something inside them told them they shouldn’t; they didn’t want to protect the body, but they couldn’t harm it, either.

A small flame of hope sparked in the new heart, but it was quickly extinguished.

I tried opening my eyes to stop the image playing before them, but every time I thought of William, he was there with Xela, in my stolen body. The head throbbed as I struggled to control the show in my mind.

William took Xela’s hand and drew it close to his mouth to kiss each individual finger. Xela smiled at him with my turquoise eyes.

Doesn’t he know it’s not me?

He didn’t. To him, it was the Sarah he had known and a body he had longed for—longing which he could now satisfy.

“No!” I cried instinctively, knowing where this could lead.
She stole everything I had!

Pain struck my heart, a different ache than touching William. I could handle the physical ache but not the sorrow, distress, and grief. To have gained a family and their love, to have overcome Aseret and the seekers had meant nothing.

Now, I was worse off than when I lived in Pinedale. Alone, with no newfound senses to guide me, I had no friends to ask for help. Once again, I didn’t know who or what I was.

My left wrist began throbbing, burning. I lifted my hand in what seemed like slow motion to look at the source and sank lower to the ground.
Where is my orchid?
The inside of my wrist was red, as if it had been scorched. A new shape was forming, the dark outline shone with blackness as it became more visible.

The sphere I’d been warned about. It almost glowed while imprinting on my hand.

But I’m good.
I started to cry.

The sphere darkened even more, as if mocking me. I turned my hand away in disbelief.

Blood rushed to my head in waves. I wasn’t familiar with such increased flow in my veins. Even at my fullest, I was sure I’d never had so much blood inside me.
Is this what humans feel all the time?

My face warmed, but it wasn’t from the bright glow of the morning star. My cheeks heated up and probably flushed pink under the wrinkled skin. The forest spun, blending the trees into mush. My eyes showed me a forest from behind a haze and under a glare.
Is this the way humans see this world?

Small flakes of what looked like first snow fell from the sky. A drop of melted snow splattered on a leaf, then parted and each half found a new path down toward the ground.

My stomach contracted, forcing its contents up. I couldn’t control this new body. It didn’t respond well to my physical needs and emotions. Somehow, it didn’t seem capable of having emotions at all. Suddenly dizzy, I looked up, wanting to see the sunrise on the horizon, but I only saw white light with two purplish ovals. The spots whispered in a familiar male voice,
What happened?

The white light faded to gray, then to black. The two purple dots were the last to disappear. I collapsed face first to the ground. I did not dream.

Chapter 24

My chest rose as I drew in more air than I could before. The volume of blood in my veins swelled. My chest was sore, and it felt as if there were golf ball-sized bruises on my thighs, ribs, and buttocks. Then I remembered: my body was gone.

Wake up, Sarah. Wake up. I know you can hear me.
I heard a familiar male voice in my mind, but couldn’t open my eyes. It wasn’t William, but as soon as I thought of him, I saw them.

“I have a surprise for you.” Xela tightened her grip around William’s arm. They sat in front of the fireplace at the hill.

“I love surprises.” He nuzzled his nose into her neck.