I knew I had to get him free. No matter the price, I would get him free.
Geth’s men still held me, their grips tight enough to pinch off my circulation. Geth walked forward and stood between me and the pixie prisoner.
“This man was in possession of the bloom of the Everblossom tree until recently. We know he possessed the bloom when he crossed into the human realm, yet he claims to have no knowledge of its location. Isn’t that right?” Geth walked to the man and kicked him, hard, in the ribs.
I cringed, feeling a phantom pain in my own chest.
Mochazon gasped, his eyes wide and pain-filled. “I do not know!” he said.
Geth spit at his feet. “Be careful how you speak, for if you tell the truth and truly do not know the location of the bloom, then you have no further use to me and I will be forced to kill you.”
My stomach sickened. I couldn’t watch Geth kill Mochazon. I had to stop him.
“Please,” Mochazon said through gasps, “once I crossed into the Earth world, the bloom disappeared. I do not know… where it went. The portal… the magic… must have transported it somewhere else. Please, I speak the truth! I do not know its location!”
“You lie! Tell me where it is!” Geth slammed his fist into Mochazon’s face. The snap of breaking bones echoed.
I tried to rush forward, only to have Geth’s men hold me back. “Geth, stop,” I said. “Please, you must stop!”
I shuddered under his hate-filled stare. “This man lies, and he will pay for his treachery. Hiding the bloom from me will solve nothing. My purposes will be fulfilled, no matter the obstacle. I will succeed. My people will rise up. We will conquer. Even without the bloom, we will still be victorious.”
“If that’s so, if you don’t need the bloom, then you no longer need this man.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Let me take him with me. Please, he does not need to suffer.”
He leaned forward. “Do you really believe you can save him?”
“Yes,” I said with resoluteness.
“Then you are a fool. I will kill him the same way I will kill you.”
A knot formed in my throat. The pain in my cheek, still raw and stinging, didn’t hurt as much as the pain I felt inside. Somehow, I had to get through to Geth. I’d dealt with mental patients all of my adult life. I’d been trained in psychology and magic. There had to be some way to reason with him.
Suddenly, the answer came to me, almost as if Geth had given it to me himself. His mother was the key. “Geth,” I said quietly, “you spoke of your mother, of how her strength kept you alive even through the direst of situations. She loved you, even when your father did not. She taught you the value of life. She would have given anything—even her own soul—to make sure you survived. How much is humanity worth? Is it something to be tossed aside? How would your mother answer?
“Let me take Mochazon with me now. He can be of no help to you anymore. He has told you the truth, just as I have spoken the truth. We are of little consequence. We can help you no more. Please, if your mother means anything to you at all, then you must repay her kindness. You must let us go free.”
Geth grew still. I wished I knew what he was thinking.
“You speak bold words,” he finally said.
Wind howled somewhere in the distance. I didn’t speak as Geth pondered my words, although I prayed that my pleading had struck a chord with him.
Please, let us go free!
Geth turned to his men. “Release them both,” he said, “and do not question me.”
The men’s callused hands held my arms a moment longer as Geth watched with guarded eyes. After untying my wrists, the men walked to the tree and cut the cords binding Mochazon.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. Had I really gotten through to him? I felt certain I would die, but I thanked the Almighty above that I hadn’t.
Once again, Geth pulled out his knife. As he waved it through the air, a gray mist formed. The fog gathered around me and Mochazon, but before it touched us, Geth walked to me and grabbed my arm tightly, his gray eyes wide and full of fire.
“Do not think that you have thwarted my plans, for I have already sent my spy to follow your every move. Everything you do, I will see.” The mist gathered thicker, and soon he disappeared from sight. “This will not be our last meeting,” he said, although his voice sounded as if it came from a great distance.
Viscous mist wrapped icy tendrils around my body. The world faded. My ears popped with the change in pressure, an indication that I was traveling from one world to another. Wind rushed around me, spiraling and howling as colorful lights bobbed in and out of appearance. I was weightless for a moment, and then I collapsed onto a bed of cracked asphalt. The humid air was thick with the salty scent of the sea. Waves crashed in the distance as Mochazon stirred next to me.
I sat up too fast, making the world reel, so I closed my eyes until the dizziness receded.
“Olive?”
I heard Mochazon’s voice. When I felt ready, I opened my eyes. Mochazon sat beside me, minus his wings, although his skin remained a deep black and his hair white. He looked at me through yellow irises. The blood on his skin had dried, and most of his cuts had closed up, leaving only scars where the open wounds had been.
Crossing worlds came with unusual side effects. While it tended to leave most healthy people dizzy and disoriented, it also worked the opposite way, and more often than not, would try to repair damaged cells on those who were sick or injured in order
