The Lebrus Stone (40 page)

"I have not cheated you, Gundulla," Sinclair said. "He has!" He pointed at a fuming Clias. "He chose Marsi over you. I would never have done that."

"I do not care what you would do, Sinclair," she said. "Only what I need to do now."

"Marsi was with child," Clias said in his defense. "My child. You know I could not leave her. I have never used you, Gundulla, that much has remained true. You have the stone because of me."

I crawled into the crowd, not wanting to be any part of what was unfolding. I wanted to find a quiet corner where I could suck my hand and drain myself unconscious.

"Ha, yes, that is why I used
you
." Gundulla smiled.

"And I have allowed you to do so," Clias admitted.

I finally found a corner and sat back. Through the parting in the crowd, I could see Gundulla's guard fade. Her smile withdrew from her painted red lips.

"You know better than to play me at my own game, Clias," she said, her expression worrisome.

"He wreaks havoc on no one but me," Marsi spoke up. "He has no regard for anyone but you, sister dearest, and that stone."

"That stone has you here. Do not talk such nonsense," Gundulla sparked. "I gave you life when I should have given you death; pure and utterly shameless deaths."

"You could have, and still shall if you feel I am worthy of suffering the beating, dearest Gundulla." Marsi bowed.

"Oh, do not disarm yourself unnecessarily, Marsi. There is only one thing above all else. The stone. As soon as she said it, the stone appeared in her hand, floating just above her palm. "Mur, mur ra, shen tor," she repeated three times. The stone vanished, reappearing as a sword. The beam glowed white and blue; the main frame coiled around her arm as gold and silver twine.

An electric pulse seemed to emit from the intensity of its afterglow, ringed by pink orbs that spun around the end of its crystalline shaft.

"Y-you wouldn't dare," Sinclair stuttered.

"Oh, I would, darling, I would," Gundulla crooned.

Sweat dripped down Sinclair's face, the tip of his tongue shot in and out of his mouth.

"Well, it's about time." Clias laughed..

"You need me, Gundulla," Sinclair said, unsteadily.

Gundulla brought the sword up to sit just below his square chin. He didn't flinch or blink, just stared into the deadliest eyes of a woman scorned.

She trailed the end of the sharp edged beam down to his waist, singeing off his belt. It fell like a leathery snake, melting into steam.

"Go ahead," he said, standing confidently now. "Strike me down with your heart, Gundulla." He threw up his hands, his smile wide: relaxed, warped.

Her eyes concentrated on his waist, then returned to the curve of his neck. The cupid's bow of her lips curled inwards until they were spoilt with a sour pout. Her nose pinched to become even pointier. The sword moved swiftly into the air as she pulled him by the scruff of his neck and planted a kiss on his expectant mouth. He held her close, deepening the kiss.

Clias's jaw tensed. Marsi noticed and looked away, her lips quivering.

With a lick of her lips Gundulla said: "Good-night, my love," then pierced the sword in his chest.

Streams of white light pelted like lightning bolts from the sword and around the room. Gundulla pulled it out and watched with greedy relish.

Sinclair froze, his face cracked into pieces. The rest of him followed and dissolved to fine dust.

Then that was it, the end of Sinclair. He hadn't suffered long, if at all. It happened so fast it didn't completely register.

But that was the least of my concerns. Gundulla's eyes surveyed the room,

She was looking for me.

"Bring her here," Gundulla commanded, still holding the sword in her hand and seeming eager to use it.

The crowd pushed me into the center of the circle. It was hopeless to run or hide. Every way was barricaded. Still, I wasn't afraid, the feed from my hands had made me feel stronger from the inside out. I was even feeling euphorically happy; the blaze in my throat had cooled.

"Stand here." Gundulla pointed at the remains of Sinclair before her hidden feet.

Clias appeared at my side, guiding me where she had instructed.

Even in my relaxed state, I couldn't bring myself to look at her face. Instead I counted the many jewels around her neck.

One…two…three...Cray appeared at her side.

"Do not speak." Her hand covered his mouth. "Or I will cut out her tongue as payment."

He backed away. Kellice frowned before pulling him to her. I was disappointed he stayed with her, held her as she smiled smugly. I wasn't feeling so happy anymore.

Four…five…In his place was someone I never expected.

"Mother, have mercy," Gal said, trying his best to sound diplomatic. He failed to reach even the tip of this woman's heart that must have been frozen from birth.

"Giving in so easily?" Gundulla said. "I had thought you better than to settle for the whines of a plump, middle class boot."

"I'm no plump, middle class boot," Jess protested.

Gundulla pointed the sword at her.

I couldn't watch. I closed my eyes and kept counting in my head.

Six…seven…

"Priestess, I think you should reconsider." Jess' tone had lost its eagerness to participate. "Crystal had no baby."

"Are you hard of hearing?" Gundulla screeched. "She has conceived before now. If you fools had kept vigilant watch like I asked, this mistake would never have happened."

"But she didn't give birth," Jess said. "That must make a difference."

I appreciated Jess' attempt to save me. But truthfully, a part of me didn't want to be.

"Blast you all to hell," Gundulla bellowed.

I opened my eyes.

She was frightening her coven with disorderly swings of the sword.

Bending to a half crouch, she aimed the sword at everyone as she turned to face each and every one of them. "I see you sneer and laugh behind my back! You think I have lost!"

You have, I wanted to scream. I closed my eyes and continued counting in my head.

Eight…nine …ten…

"I will show you. I will show you all," her voice echoed. "I will teach you to never doubt me."

Eleven…twelve…

"I am Gundulla. High Priestess. I shall never fail…"

Thirteen…fourteen…fifteen…

A sharpness plowed into me, a surge of excruciating pain shot through my chest. I flew across the room, hitting nothing.

Opening my eyes, I found myself floating six feet from the floor, bleeding painlessly from my chest as I moved in a circular axis from where everyone stared up at me.

My eyes closed again. When I opened them, I was running into a forest, holding onto a hand that belonged to a young girl with thick, blonde hair brushing against my face.

"Come quickly," she said, revealing her cherub flushed cheeks and the spell bounding smile of Arrious.

I hurried along, dodging leaves and twigs that sprang out from arched trees.

"Come back," a desperate male voice called. I turned to see who it was. "Don't go!"

"Shh, don't listen," Arrious warned me, pulling me farther into the forest.

"Please. I'm sorry, Crys, forgive me." The voice was hard to resist. It was distant, but overwhelming. The sadness was hard to ignore.

But who was I leaving? Why did I want to? Why was I feeling torn now that I could hear this voice?

When we reached an open meadow, birds sang and a breeze cooled my step. My feet felt the tenderness of buttercups and the tease of overgrown grass and bluebells.

Arrious had disappeared, leaving me secluded in a wilderness where I had no fear of staying. It seemed like home, a world within a bubble where I would happily have lived.

Suddenly a dot of the most amazing blue hovered beside the bark of a tree opposite me. It  grew in size and length, eventually sprouting arms and legs that connected to a torso and head before progressing into a full bodied male that resembled Jared.

I ran towards it and the figure copied my move. Except it didn't run, it jogged in a stilted motion. The specks of blue still flashed and flipped from every part of the male form. He headed for me much faster, pausing mid-way to stand in the field. A double of himself sprang out and retracted like a boomerang of electric colors.

It really was Jared, and he was fuller and healthier. Not as thin. Everything about him was different. Sure and eager. With a lust for life I hadn't seen since he'd lost Selma. He was how I imagined happiness to be. Easy.

"Crystal." He held out his arms and I didn't hesitate running into them. "I've missed you." He chuckled.

"I've missed you, too, Jared. You don't know how much." I held onto him, so tight, I was afraid of hurting him.

He simply chuckled again and stroked my hair. There was a new vitality to him, even in his laughter.

"Where are we, Jared?"

His smile slackened. "Oh, some place good."

"Heaven?"

He didn't reply.

"Are you dead? Are we both —"

"Shhh…" He pressed me to his chest, rocking me from side to side. "I am alive, just not as you know it."

"How? I don't understand," I choked, unable to believe him. Blaming a desert-like mirage for his appearance.

"I have been ill for a very long time," he said.

"Ill?" I gasped. "How ill? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Heart problems," he said. "I didn't want to bother you. Not now."

"But you should have told me. I could have…I need you," I spluttered.

"And I'm here for you," he assured me, rubbing both my arms. But it only made me feel worse.

"When did this happen?" I asked pulling back.

"T.J. found me in the basement. It happened so quick I hardly remember it." I knew he was trying to make me feel better about his passing. But it didn't. Not unless there was a way to bring him back.

"Why wasn't I told this?" My heart ached at the thought of him dying alone.

I remembered what I had left and why I couldn't return. Gundulla was right. My life was pathetic and no use to anyone. Least of all me.

"Now you listen here," he said, somehow retaliating with my thoughts. "You're going back. It's not your time to stay here with me."

"I can't," I yelled. For the first time, I raised my voice to Jared, and I couldn't be sorry. I wasn't sorry for wanting to stay.

"Yes, you will," he demanded. "My Crys is no quitter."

"I don't want go back. I hate it," I screamed. "Don't make me, Jared, please!"

"Since when did liking it make any difference?" he asked, grabbing my face. "To truly live, comes much hardship, and you're only half way there. If you choose to give up now, I'll be very disappointed."

I stepped back. I no longer knew the man confronting me.

"No!"

"I mean it, Crys. A real daughter of mine wouldn't have been a coward."

"Stop it!"

I covered my face and screamed, disrupting a once ethereal peace.

Birds squawked and flapped around me, pecking at my hands. I released one last earth shattering scream and it brought down the sky.

"Crys, come back."

The same saddened voice from earlier shot through my ears. I didn't speak. I opened my eyes and reached out for Cray's hand. It was warm and comforting. "Do something." He called out to someone moving around me. "Heal her with the stone!"

Another hand gripped mine. Jess'. "Crys, Crys, hold on. We'll save you." Tears fell onto my face.

I was peacefully content. It was finally entering me like it did for many, sealing my sorrows and leaving them behind.

I closed my eyes and found myself returning to the forest, running through the dark trees that branched out in all directions except ahead. An uncluttered tunnel formed from raining leaves.

Just as I had been in my dream, I stood on the edge of a cliff.

Spreading my arms, I was ready to fall forward and bring myself relief. Although Daniel had abused my trust, I hadn't accepted myself as gone because of it. I hadn't been willing to allow myself to think it had been anything other than a dream I had watched while awake; something that had happened to a replica of myself.

Daniel had drunk a lot that night and that was his excuse. I had been unfortunately sober, aware of every second that passed by slowly as he took more and more from me with every painful thrust and violent kiss.

When I was thrown out of his house, I was left internally alone with no one I could turn to, to admit what had happened. I was forced to push it all to the back of my mind as a way to go on.

And by some miracle, I did. Until now, I had been managing, pretending to be alright.

I leaned forward and let myself free-fall to a peaceful end.

~ * ~

I fell through. Just not where I'd hoped.

Instead I was in my room at the manor, tucked in bed.

A candle flitted at the boarded up widow. Jess was sitting there, gazing at the flame.

At the foot of my bed was Cray. His hands at my feet and his head buried in the sheets.

"Crys," Jess said, hurrying over to me. The pounding of her feet made the room seem to shake. "Crys, you're back." She cried against my neck, long-winded cries that made me feel guilty for not wanting to be, for being disappointed.

She let go, stood and wiped her tears. "I'll leave you both alone."

As soon as she left, I had no choice but to acknowledge Cray watching me, waiting for me to notice him, to speak, perhaps beckon him closer.

Considering I wanted to do all those things, I didn't.

I couldn't bring myself to look at him and have the confrontation. I was too ashamed of what he knew about me, too upset from the grief to initiate anything.

Bed sheets moved and his weight lifted.

I concentrated on the ceiling as his weight pressed against my arm. His finger brushed the inside of it.

"I'm here." His voice was soothing but different, almost an outer shell of the once deep richness I remembered.

I shut my eyes, willing myself not to look at him. I was afraid to see the pity in his eyes.

His finger touched my cheek, solid and jagged yet uplifting my wilted heart. "I'll make sure you live," he said. "Don't worry." He kissed my hand.

"I don't want you to," I mumbled.

I groped the sheet, but no screams could release my frustration, my loss, my memories of Jared.

Cray's hands came down on my shoulders. "Don't speak like that."

I tried not to remember the one reason why I should live; it was useless when Cray could never be mine.

His thumbs sunk into my cheeks. "Crys. Open your eyes and look at me."

My head flapped around as he shook me. He stopped and held me to him.

I remained limp in his arms.

He pulled away and I finally looked up. His face was skeletal. His arms were crumpling within my palms. Every ounce of him was deteriorating.

"Not again," I sobbed.

"It doesn't matter. I've told you not to worry."

"It does matter."

"Why?"

"You know why."

"I only think I do," he whispered against the base of my neck. I shivered from the longing I still felt for him, though it had never really left me, and maybe never would. Lifting his head, I took hold of his face. "You know how I feel about you, Cray. It's not something that's just going to go away."

His gaze lowered, his eyelids cracked and destroyed his long lashes. "I know how you shouldn't feel." His gaze returned to mine, glazed with perhaps unshed years.

I paused to think about everything that had happened and changed; everything I still cared deeply enough to keep with me. Cray. It had always been him. It always would be.

"Do you need to feed?" I asked, weakly offering him my hand.

My voice broke from the thought of never having him in my life, to never have any hope.

I could tell from the shift in his eyes he was finding it hard to resist feeding from me.

"I…" He held me to him again. "I can't. It might make things worse."

Worse than this?

"But I can't do this without you, Cray."

"You'll find a way. You have so far." He sighed, easing me down onto the bed and placing a boney hand to my chest.

The press of his still warm hand brought me relief and seclusion from the misery, the way life was once again dealing me with a test. Was I never to be happy? Could I not have the one I wanted, want me back with no reason to fray? Wither from sight?