The Hour of Dust and Ashes

grabbed the shirt and blew the corks of packed dirt from my nose, thinking maybe I should just accept the fact that Hank would always see me at my worst.

Hank pulled his button-down back on, and I finally got a good look at him. Streaks of sweat-soaked dirt on his face. Pants, hands, and forearms covered in dirt and grit. Mostly dried blood had made tracks on his fingers and hands from where he’d broken nails or sliced his skin and palms against sharp rocks, digging me out.

“Jesus,” I managed, staring at him.

How long had he been digging for me?

“Nothing compared to what you look like,” he said, pushing to his feet and extending a hand. “Well enough to stand?”

“Yeah.” I rolled onto my hands and knees, and stayed there for a moment to regain my equilibrium. Then I brought my legs in one at a time and slowly stood. A little wobbly, but otherwise okay. I went to brush the dirt from my clothes, but what was the point? It wouldn’t help. I could feel the small, gritty particles on my scalp, in my bra and underwear, in my shoes and socks …

Hank picked up our flashlights and handed me one, his light beaming over me in a quick downward slash. “You look like a deranged cavewoman.”

“Gee, thanks.” I sniffed and gave him a haughty look. “I have dirt everywhere,” I said, walking past him. “I’m going to Bryn’s to clean up.”

Oh, the looks that were thrown our way as we made our way down Solomon Street, into the plaza, and then down Mercy Street. The walk was brutal. Dirt rubbed me raw in all my delicate places.

One foot in front of the other, that’s all I could concentrate on until I made it to Hodgepodge and Bryn’s apartment above the shop.

Shower. Rest. Food.

Or maybe shower, food, rest. I wasn’t sure yet, but Abracas was smelling pretty damn fine as we hobbled by. And they delivered.

I used my key and let us inside, barely able to make it up the stairs and refusing Hank’s offer of a “lift” at least three times. At the top of the stairs, I paused to catch my breath before inserting the key and entering my sister’s dark apartment. Hank came in behind me, shutting and locking the door and then proceeding to find the light switches.

The couch beckoned me like never before, but I bypassed it and went into the kitchen, where the dirt could be swept from the floor. I grabbed the counter for support and then slowly removed my boots. Dirt fell in streams onto the tiles. And more fell as I held them over the trash can and shook.

Hank and I worked in silence, things coming off—our shoes, socks, weapons, harnesses, and belts, all of it piling onto the countertop in a dusty heap.

Once I was down to my pants and T-shirt, I glanced at Hank to see him still dressed, but shaking the dirt out of his socks and shoes. Even sweat-soaked and grimy, he looked obscenely good. I rolled my eyes, bent over, and shook out my hair. His lure never seemed to take a day off, but I guessed I couldn’t really fault him for what was as natural to him as breathing.

Get used to it, Charlie, I told myself. Then frowned inwardly. I thought I had.

“I’m taking a shower,” I said, straightening as he sat on the stool, pulling his socks back on. “What are you doing?”

He grabbed his boot off the floor and shoved his foot in, not bothering with the laces. “Going back to my place to shower and get clean clothes. There’s nothing here for me to wear. I’m just one street over. I’ll be back before you even get out.”

The other boot followed and he stood as I pulled Bryn’s key off the counter and tossed it to him. “Bring some food back with you,” I said.

“Planned to.” He shoved the key in his pocket and grabbed his wallet, leaving his other things. Then he leaned down, kissed me on the cheek, and walked out. As normal as you please. As though he’d been doing that for years.

I blinked, staring at the closed door for a long moment, trying to wrap my mind around this new and sudden step—no, leap—in our relationship.

There was so much mud in the tub that I worried about clogging Bryn’s drain. I had to keep mashing it with my feet to thin it out, but finally the water ran clear and nothing backed up from the drain. My wrist ached, but I could move it without too much trouble. Soap stung the scratches on my face and the tender skin around the corners of my eyes, mouth, and nose.

As I massaged my scalp with suds, my eyelids closed and I let my thoughts drift into the background. The natural energy inside of me took over, working and healing.

I went into a calm, meditation-like state, relaxing every muscle and letting go of the worry, anxiety, and pressure to make things right.

The vision started so slowly, sneaking up on my unprotected mind, overtaking me before I knew what hit me.

* * *

Gray landscape. Valleys. Mountains. Cloud-laden sky. Mist-covered ground. All moving below me at great speed. Down over foothills covered in grass to flatlands that eventually turned to sand. To a desert and a sparkling river under a blazing white sun. To the walls of a massive temple rearing up on the other side.

Straight up the wall face and over the balcony. Through the massive columns. To a courtyard.

“No!”

“Our purpose is at an end. Our lives here, in this state, are over. It was always meant to be like this. You know this.”

Denial. Anger. Shouting.

And then the scene speeds away again, going back through the temple columns so massive I can’t see the roof. Over the land, to a darker place of mist and gray jagged mountains.

The blinding light comes next.

I’m on the rooftop of Helios Tower. Dawn of the winter solstice. Llyran removing the sarcophagus lid.

The agate no longer masks the power inside. The pulse of energy steals my breath and flows through every fiber of my being, so deep and powerful, it feels as though it has taken part of my life force with it as it ebbs.

And with that pulse the scene shifts to the black Earth. An eye blinks open.

I came out of the vision with a heart-pounding gasp, losing my balance in the tub and flailing for the wall before I slipped. The water still ran warm, and the suds were still in my hair. I ducked my head under the spray.

Apparently, only a few moments had passed, yet it felt like I’d been gone for a lifetime. It was exactly the same as before, but this time I couldn’t call it a dream. It was much more than that.

A tingle of fear crept over my wet skin as I turned the water off, stepped out of the tub, and grabbed a towel.

As my body morphed into something more than human, I had experienced some odd things. Seeing through and inside solid objects, hearing voices … All things I hoped would go away once my body decided on what it wanted to be. The vision could be just another one of those things.

But still it was hard to shake the ominous feeling that came along with it.

I went to my assigned drawer—Bryn had gotten so tired of me coming by and borrowing her clothes if mine were ripped, bloodied, or soiled that she gave me my own space for my things. I pulled on a pair of underwear and a tank, and then crawled under the covers, curling onto my side.

It was dim in the room, the blinds drawn, the light off, and I was so spent that even just a few minutes of sleep would do me a world of good.

I heard the voice before I saw it. Deep. Ancient. Powerful. Familiar. Vibrating with a natural echo, the language containing hints of Elysian, Charbydon, Aramaic …

I turned onto my back. My eyes widened. The shadowy creature was back.