I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to collect myself, collect my dreams, and bury them somewhere safe.
I take one last look around. “I’m ready.” It’s a lie, but what else is there to say. I’ll start over one more time. But that’s what life is, for better or worse, a series of new starts. I just need to find my footing.
Harpoc approaches, and I look up into his metallic eyes, remembering the eyes, that presence that has never left me, no matter what’s happened; those eyes have been the only constant in my life. Things will be okay—I make myself believe it because it’s all I can do.
“No more beings will be brought back. No one else will come to harm,” Harpoc says.
I bob my head, then put an arm around his waist.
He draws me close and holds me, longer than either time before until I look up.
“I’m here for you.”
“Thank you.” It’s a nice sentiment. At least he’s trying, it’s more than most guys even if it can’t be true—he entered my life just the day before, and I don’t know him. Once we deal with… whatever we have to deal with, he’ll be gone, and with him my window for understanding secret magic. I’ll be left alone to figure out how to restart my life again.
I glance at Irik. His gaze locks onto mine, and I suck in a breath.
“Let’s do this.” Harpoc’s baritone voice is flat, monotone as the scrolls disappear from the shelves.
“Hey! Hey!” Irik scrambles up. “Stop, thief!”
Blackness embraces us, disorientation and nausea assaulting me.
I successfully swallow back the contents of my stomach as my feet find something solid seconds later, thank god. It’s pitch-dark. A musty smell fills my nose and the sound of dripping reaches my ears.
Harpoc ignites a small ball of light in his free hand, and it gives off just enough glow to illuminate the interior of a cave hewn from white stone, probably more limestone.
“Where’d the scrolls go? Are we still in Greece?” The questions spill from my lips.
“I’d rather not say,” Harpoc says, scanning the space, his arm still around me.
“To which question?”
He doesn’t answer, just inhales deeply, then shakes his head. “No, definitely not this one.”
I furrow my brow.
“Let’s try another.”
I squeal again as discombobulation along with darkness fill my consciousness.
You’re right, Pell, this guy is crazy, my inner voice wheezes five spaces later. What in the world is he doing?
We flit between locations so quickly that I don’t have time to ask. Reality has become a continuous blur.
I pant, and I’m no doubt pale. I certainly feel pale judging by my stomach’s profane rumblings. Harpoc’s arm tightens as I sag against his side wherever we next stop.
Please have found what you’re searching for. I can’t handle one more tripping-anything.
I close my eyes still hugging him.
Breathe in, breathe out, Pell.
Except for the sound of him beside me, inhaling the stale air, everything’s quiet.
Breathe, calm, Pell.
I open my eyes again despite my stomach being only a little calmer.
He’s ignited that ball of light in his free palm and is looking about again. Progress. He hasn’t bothered doing so the last two places we stop.
“This could do,” he says at last, and I exhale.
“Where are we?”
“I shouldn’t say.” He releases me, and I try to steady my wobbling legs.
I roll my eyes. “Afraid I’ll blab your deepest darkest secret?”
“As I’ve said before, the less you know…” He stops himself, looking at me.
I furrow my brow. “What?”
His look lengthens, his expression remaining unreadable. Will he finally speak?
At length, he shakes his head.
No… of course not. A sarcastic tone fills my inner voice. Surprise, surprise. I’m getting sick of it.
“Here, let me help you sit.” He eases me down to the rough, but dry, stone floor.
I’m guessing I’m pale because concern mars his face. I’m prone to motion sickness and being stuck in the heart of the earth with no horizon to get my bearings isn’t helping.
Still bending over me, he holds up his pointer finger. “Wait one minute.” He straightens, then disappears in a swirl of shadows.
I’m alone, but he’s at least left his hovering ball of light.
I lay down in a fetal position, holding my stomach with a hand and using my arm as a pillow.
Shoot me. I haven’t felt this bad in years.
I focus on my breathing as I wait.
Several minutes later, he’s smiling when he steps out of his shadows, then walks over and sits down beside my head, holding out a can of ginger ale. “I’m told this will settle even pregnant stomachs.”
My eyes go wide.
“I mean… not that you’re… you’re not are you?” His baritone voice trembles.
My jaw drops as I push myself up to sitting.
“No, of course not.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Please… drink it. The ginger…”
I snort. My soda joins in, hissing with the escaping carbonation. “Thank you,” I say grinning, then take a sip. “That was very sweet of you.”
Harpoc’s rings glint in the dim light as he draws a hand to his lips, covering a cute smirk. It’s too dark to see if he’s blushing. I certainly would if it was me, but then my cheeks turn red at the drop of a hat, thanks to being a redhead. His olive complexion probably covers a multitude of blunders… assuming he makes blunders. His secrecy probably prevents most.
Maybe you can take a few cues from him, keeping your thoughts to yourself a time or two, Pell.
I roll my eyes and take another sip.
“Feeling better?” he asks, as I tip the can up for a final swig.
“Yes, much, thanks to you.”
He rises, then helps
