Nightmarish Sacrifice (Cardew) (5 page)

             
“Guess,” Cardew chuckled to delude me completely, and negligently relaxed down on the ground to sit at no more than a metre or so away from my head. “I love mysteries –”

             
Too concentrated in rethinking his words in various contexts which included anything but innocent simple flattery, I didn’t give an instant answer, and the boy laughed under his breath and turned his head aside to hide his expression from me by skilfully pretending that he was enjoying the lightest shimmering shades still lingering over the solemn celestial vault above, and I subconsciously followed his eyes in that direction.

             
The evening was slowly spreading the luxurious lucent veils of ink-coloured silk of the night above the horizon, and the pale diluted silhouette of the moon was already standing out, faintly but gaining more confidence after each sunray that was mildly evaporating into the icily violet shades of endless blue.

             
Bored by the silence – or rather worried that I would consider him boring because of it – Cardew turned his head back in my direction, and then noticed the sheets of white paper spilled on the land around him.

             
“No!” fast as a lightning, my hand rapaciously grabbed his wrist before he had touched the paper with my lyrics, and my eyes flashed with a joke and an unfeigned threat at the same time. “Didn’t you love mysteries?”

             
With no obvious effort, Cardew turned his hand in mine without even trying to break free, and the tips of his fingers barely perceptibly fondled the sensitive inner side of my arm with deceptive softness which awoke numerous thrills inside me and made me instantly realize that it was the first time we were touching each other...

             
‘And not the last –’ my inner voice giggled mischievously.

             
“The best mystery is the revealed one,” Cardew smirked with dark gladness and reached for the paper again – my hand was physically far too weak to really stop him, and if he still hadn’t wrenched out of its grip, that was because he had chosen not to do it.

             
“True – but only before being revealed!” I snapped stubbornly and my nails pinned deeply inside his skin in a slightly painful way.

             
But it was not that gesture of violence that stopped him – rather my words provoked him to think, and he – pleased by the smart game of words, delayed his movement with a fraction of the second so as to decide what to answer.

             
“But if it’s never revealed, you’ll never know if it had been a tempting one at all,” he declared, proud of his logic – brilliant and undeniably hard like a diamond, and cast me a victorious glance with his obsessive eyes – the reason why I was becoming to subconsciously associate the gray colour with excitement.

             
However, I just smiled with calm confidence. “But if you do reveal it, it won’t be a mystery anymore.”

             
Obviously pleased, Cardew burst into laughter and I let go of his hand to save myself the feeling of defeat I’d be thrown into if he too demonstratively easily set it free by himself.

             
“You’re sharp,” he praised me without humiliating himself; I could see that my precision was delighting him, proving that I was an enemy against whom he would be proud to win, and in case he failed, he wouldn’t be too ashamed to confess it – not that he had ever imagined failing as a possibility at all.

             
Cardew’s fingers gently lifted the sheet which was closest to him and he cast me an asking glimpse. “You don’t mind my reading it, do you?”

             
“Why would I, when it will make you admire me even more?” I nagged at him self-assuredly, and he chuckled joyfully.

             
“Just beware –” I added more quietly and my eyes half-closed with misleadingly mild cruelty. “It will be a pity if I break your heart but I’d love that opportunity –”

             
The bold provocation was to give him a rather direct hint about what we were both perfectly aware of – that the absurd game of dominance which we had started with such furious determination could easily result into an emotionally exhaustive, devastating love affair – a situation neither of us openly wished for, as the threat of being rejected and thus mercilessly humiliated felt present and real – but still, this relationship was a chance both had ceaselessly and in details been fantasizing about since the first second when we had met...

             
“I will take the risk,” Cardew raised an eyebrow in an irresistible challenge, and I shrugged with my favourite haughtiness.

             
“Try with this one there,” I pointed at the clearly written final version of the poem, and he took it carefully but without fear, as though it could burn his fingers but he was only concerned that he could display fright in front of his enemy if he took any precautions. “Read it in your mind, its impact is greater that way.”

             
He just nodded wordlessly, as his eyes had already darted along the first row, and the tint of pleasant surprise in his expression made me a bit smug – he had obviously expected to read something far worse and even to praise it...

             
Well, I had warned him about it.

             
The poem wouldn’t take Cardew a long time to read if he was only skimming over it, but, keen to discover its profound and obscure, maybe even secret meaning so as to really feel it personally, he had sunk far more deeply into the lines than an average reader would ever dare to. I smiled with contentment: Cardew was not underestimating me.

             
While the boy was reading in the scarce darkened light the dimmed skies were reflecting, I took my time to have a closer look at him without attracting his attention too much, and – as I was trying really hard not to stare at his face as that would let him know how deeply indeed I was interested, I focused on the small about-two-inch-long flat metal tablet hanging on a loose steel chain on his neck, and the mysterious sign engraved on the iron surface made me gasp noiselessly.

             
Inspiring and immediately binding with its hypnotising obsessive charm, this symbol struck me as truly and beautifully unique, even though I had seen the elements building it millions of times before: they were runes, and, maybe due to the origin of my own name, I had had the passionate interest and patience to carefully study their supposed meanings and powers one by one. Nonetheless, in the sign engraved on Cardew’s talisman, many familiar to me runes were merged together into a single mystifying allegory overwhelming with the unconquerable power it was radiating, and mildly seductively subduing my floating imagination and effortlessly locking me into a labyrinth of restless guessing why this symbol was so special to this boy so that he was having it immediately close to his heart all the time.

             
I did straightaway realize that I was staring with obvious insistence at the unknown sign, but yet, I did not force myself to urge my gaze to shift away from its enchantingly secretive shape – there was something so utterly addictive in it that it was alluring me subtly but disarmingly, while hypocritically promising there could be nothing destructive or restrictive about desiring to stare at it for the rest of eternity, for the rest of my life... Harmonious and balanced, this visual combination of runes appeared so natural to my subjective mesmerised senses that I could swear it was truly surprising I myself hadn’t come up with it years ago.

             
Clearly standing out against the background of the smaller but still connected runes, the two dominant ones had instantly attracted my attention, and I made a careful attempt to decode them so as to find a clue about what the whole complex sign was symbolising. The arrow-shaped ancient letter central to the image was decisively pointing towards its master’s distractingly handsome face in a disturbingly successful try to scatter my thoughts, but still, I could recall that I was associating this easily recognizable rune with the concept of deserved and heroic victory. The other main believed-to-be-magical sign – indirectly reminding me of the letter C – was symmetrically laying over the arrow-like one, and I had been left with the impression that its meaning was linked with tameless fire and brave, invincible strength.

             
Victory and strength...

             
Having released my thoughts to roam aimlessly around the symbol that had captured my whole consciousness so hypnotically, I let my stare gently glide over the rune of strength...

             
The letter C...

             
Stricken by a lightning-fast idea, I quickly tried spelling Cardew’s name in runes, seeking each of the letters inside the complex maze of straight and crossing lines, careful not to let my romanticising fancy add inexistent elements to it, and at the same time, striving not to awake the boy’s suspicion with my motionless concentrated gaze...

             
The victory rune was the only unneeded letter I discovered, the single odd-one-out lacking its place in Cardew’s unusual but gripping first name – all the other signs merged in the beautiful harmony of the symbol on his tablet were on guard in their places, faithfully and precisely outlining their mighty lord’s name – and the fact that there were no incomplete runes and no extra lines reassured me that I had righteously guessed the logic of his talisman.

             
Given that it was representing his initial, I could easily understand why the rune of strength was so significant in Cardew’s sign –but why was the arrow-shaped victory one highlighted so heavily as well – why was it there at all?

             
Was it to remind him of a particular success he was to be proud of – of some dearly appreciated achievement proving his doubtlessly impressive abilities to the world and himself?

             
Was it the initial letter of someone who had been vitally important in his life in the past...

             
Or was it standing there for all the aspirations the boy would surely have in his future?...

             
Intuitively, I found this too personal a question to ask him...

             
Cardew inhaled rather sharply and it was just then when I recalled where we were and what was supposed to be happening; while I had been philosophically pondering over the meanings hidden behind the runes on his pendant, Cardew had still been reading my just-finished poem, and I realized that he had been holding his breath while sunk in my elaborate and melodious rhymes, and it had been so flawlessly quiet around us that the thudding of my own blood in the veins must have been deafening.

             
“Skip the wow-part,” I remarked with a thin smile of complacency when he raised his stunning eyes towards me and the admiration inside them poured into mine like sweet vital magical elixir. “I know that I’m brilliant.”

             
“But you won’t mind hearing it again, will you?” he teased slightly and handed the paper to me. “Especially if it’s from me... and when it’s not just empty praise. I have rarely seen a piece of such quality and philosophical depth – it grabs instantly and at the same time, its meaning is not too obvious and easy to be understood, so it captivates you in such a mysterious, lovely way... Can you tell me what you mean with this line here –”

             
“Oh –” I giggled at the overly abstract metaphor he was pointing at, and glimpsed at him to check if it had really confused him or he had just used the opportunity to bend excitingly close to me. “I will... but only if you tell me what your medallion means to you.”

             
“This?” Cardew touched the tablet with his hand and shrugged to downplay it. “I made it myself, it’s supposed to bring me good luck.”

             
“Runes,” I summed up not to let him doubt in my knowledge on ancient signs. “I have heard that Celts used them as well... And to me your name sounds Celtic, doesn’t it?”

             
“It is Celtic,” he nodded to confirm with gratified pride, and then fiery-pale-gray flames lit up in his enticing eyes with riskily ardent passion. “By the way, what does the ‘y’ in yours stand for?”

             
I knitted my brows, not too happy to show him that he had actually managed to surprise me. “What do you mean?”

             
Cardew grinned, playing angelically naive, and I couldn’t help admitting that he was doing it brilliantly, although that role wasn’t really as tailor-made for him as the one of the refined flawless mysterious villain he was usually in – but I couldn’t hide that I was admiring the latter too much to be truly objective.

             
“F is for fascinating,” he started as though this was an undeniable, scientifically proven fact everyone doubtlessly agreed with. “R is for risky... or romantic?” his smile was hiding in his eyes only and this time it was not even provocative, only a bit mischievous; he chuckled gladly, “Or both? Hmm... E is for exciting, I believe... And A can be amazing... or arrogant?”