Chosen (16 page)

             
It wasn’t the cold stone floor that pressed into my bare shoulders or the pounding of my head that woke me.  It wasn’t even the uncomfortable way my left leg was tucked up under my body, or the vague knowledge that there was blood trickling down my temple.  It was the sound of her voice as it exploded inside my head, awakening the tightly twisted rage that had been woven within my heart.

             
“The itsy bitsy spider crawled up the water spout,” Nadia’s breath heated the side of my face as she ruined one of my favorite childhood nursery rhymes.  I felt a slight tickling sensation on my right arm, jerking it spastically in an effort to rid my body of an unknown invader before my eyes flew open.

             
“Get away from me!” I growled at her.  The fact that I was in a reverie did nothing to dull my irrational panic, as the tickling on my arm remained despite my attempt to swat at it.  My movements were measured and labored, and I groaned when my hand completely missed my arm; instead flopping down onto my stomach.  My panic quickly changed to a very rational fear as I laid eyes on the dark brown spider that was making its way up my forearm.

             
“I wouldn’t fight her if I were you,” Nadia wore a sharp grin as she crossed her arms over a gray silk blouse and watched the spider with tenderness.  A shiver ran down my spine as I swallowed and tried to suppress my rising hysteria.  It was just a spider, a simple, harmless insect.  So what if it had eight hairy legs and black beady eyes?  I was a thousand times larger and a million times smarter.  Unfortunately for me, something about those eight legs trumped any amount of intelligence or size.

             
“She’s a Darwin bark spider,” Nadia explained proudly through dark plum lipstick. “Isn’t she beautiful?  She chose me to be her master.”

             
“You should
choose
to lay off the drugs,” I muttered in disgust.  Her eyes flickered, razor sharp, before a wistful smile crossed her lips and she diverted her gaze back to the spider that was literally making my skin crawl.  The mountain-size goose bumps that had risen on my arms only amplified the tickling sensation, and threatened to expose the true horror I was feeling inside.

             
“I found her magnificent silk web spanning the banks of my river,” she sighed. “I would watch for hours as she expertly weaved her deadly web.  She’s the perfect predator.”

             
So her role model was a spider.  How fitting.  My arms shook involuntarily as the tiny torture device made its way around my forearm, and stopped in the crook of my elbow.  Its thick body was only the size of a quarter, but I could see the black hair covering its eight legs quite clearly.  I could also feel the bile collecting in my throat, on its way to the outside world.  I pushed it down and fought to harden myself.

             
“Get it off of me,” I demanded with what I hoped was an unimpressed tone.

             
“It can also kill with one bite of its venom,” she cackled knowingly.   So much for the ‘its-just-a-spider’ angle. “And these are her children.”

             
Nadia swept her arm out to the suddenly crowded room I now found myself in.  My vision zeroed in on at least a hundred identical spiders littering the mass of webs that spanned the rooms’ walls and ceiling.  The sunlight shining through the lone open window lit up the strands of silk, which glittered and swayed in the slight ocean breeze.  Ocean?  My senses sharpened and I tucked away the dizzying déjà vu feeling I was beginning to feel into the back of my mind.  The white stone of the walls poked at my memory, but the air that smelled of sea salt and sand only caused a thick longing for the safety of the sea.

             
I shut my eyes and focused on my body back at the villa on Cyprus.  Unfortunately, just as in her underground cavern, nothing happened.  I felt the spider being snatched off of my arm as Nadia chuckled at my increasing number of failed reverie-ending attempts.

             
“I have to admit, that never gets old,” she snickered and waited patiently as her spider crawled back onto one of the webs nearby. “I love watching you fail miserably.  It just proves how little you belong in our world.”

             
“Where am I?” I asked calmly, refusing to take the bait.  She stood with grace, brushed off her black skinny jeans, and swept her golden hair off her shoulders into a low pony tail. 

             
“Exactly where you should be,” she retorted matter-of-factly.  I watched as her golden eyes darkened and the light evil smoke twirled off of her skin. “Out of my way.”

             
“You think a bunch of spiders are going to stop me from escaping?” I tried to laugh convincingly. I was pretty certain a bunch of spiders was the
best
way to keep me from escaping.  I pictured my body wrapped in the webs as a hundred spiders ate me alive, and shuddered.

             
“Of course not,” she grinned sharply. “The absence of your essence should take care of that for me.”  My heart hit the floor as she picked up a full syringe from the window sill.  My trace had faded to gray, and understanding filled my mind, quickly trumped by rage.

             
“Why are you doing this?!” I yelled at her, and tumbled backwards as I tried to move toward her.  With a twitch of her finger something tightened around my ankles in a faint glow.  Enchanted chains connected to chains secured my ankles to the stone wall; further ensuring that I had no access to my abilities.  Nadia twitched toward me with a smile and pointed at me with one red manicured finger.

             
“Because I can.” In one quick motion, something solid and cold connected with my skull; taking my breath away and knocking me unconscious.

             
“
He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me….not.  Well, crap.” I chucked the bare flower stem aside and plucked another yellow flower from the thick, lush grass beneath me.  The neighborhood park had proved to be a formidable safe haven that was rarely frequented by any of the any other kids.  They were too busy playing video games or spending time with their normal families.  I wasn’t jealous at all.  I shifted my attention back to my flower and plucked the first petal.

             
“He loves me.  He loves me not…”

             
“Love is never left to chance, dear.”

             
“Huh?” I started a little at the raspy voice behind me.  I spun around to see an older lady with a cane peering down at the daisy in my hand with an amused grin.  Her starched light blue pants matched her striped white and blue top, and I looked around to see who she was with.  She must have grandchildren playing on the swings or the jungle gym, but I was the only kid around.  I looked up at her, confused.  “Do I know you?”

             
“No, dear.  I’m only visiting.” As she smiled warmly, the corners of her bright blue eyes crinkled from age and I was instantly captivated by those kind eyes.  They held such tenderness and wisdom, I found myself unable to look away.  They danced with joy, and I got the odd feeling that I should know who she was. 

             
“Who are you visiting?” I asked curiously.

             
She chuckled, and her wrinkled fingers played with the shining pendant that hung from her necklace. “It would seem the only one I’m visiting with at the moment is you!  How’s that sound?”

             
I straightened, but my ankle rolled over a rock and I pitched sideways.  The old woman grabbed my arm to right me, but I cringed as pain exploded from several fresh bruises.  She released me when I cried out, but surprisingly asked no questions. She simply shuffled her feet and turned toward me with empathetic eyes.  I realized just how short she was.  The disfiguring hump on her back forced her slight body to bend over at an odd angle.

             
“Do you have grandkids?” I looked around again, wondering how an old woman who could barely stand got to the park. 

             
“I will someday,” she laughed again and gestured to the flower I still clutched in my hand. “May I?”

             
I handed her the fragile flower and she inspected it with interest.  She had to be at least ninety years old.  If she was going to have grandchildren, wouldn’t it have already happened?  Another odd feeling of familiarity passed over me, as I watched her hold it to her nose and breathe deep.  She closed her eyes and smiled as if it were the sweetest thing she’d ever smelled.

             
“They say Sweet William will always find his Black-Eyed Susan,” she mused.

             
“Who’s Susan?” I asked. I had no idea what she was talking about. “Why does she have a black eye?” 

             
“Their story is one of America’s oldest and least known romance tales,” she explained, and held up the flower with raised eyebrows. “Actually, this particular flower was named for her.  This is a Black-Eyed Susan, named such for its dark center.”

             
She handed the flower back to me as she continued, “After meeting beneath the silver light of a full moon in a field of wildflowers, William asked Susan to marry him, presenting her with a bouquet of those very wildflowers.  Only one day before their wedding, sweet William was taken prisoner on a war-bound vessel set for the high seas. Throughout his plight-ridden journey, her memory kept him alive; the hope of seeing her again pushing him to survive. Upon his release a year later, William was informed that Susan had run away to evade an arranged marriage.  After searching for his true love for months and months, sweet William decided to return to the field where they had first met.  That night as the full moon rose, William finally arrived at the field to find his dear Susan sleeping.  She clutched a dried bouquet of wildflowers in her hands…the very same kind of flower you hold in your hand today.” 

             
I glanced down at the yellow flower in my hand and smiled. “I want a sweet William.”

             
“Maybe you already have one,” she wondered with a conspiring grin.

             
“I doubt it.  Plus, I don’t really want a black eye,”  I clarified with a giggle.

             
“I told you I would figure it out.” Nadia’s muffled voice scratched across my eardrums. “How could you have ever doubted me?”

             
I groaned and painstakingly forced my way into a sitting position against the cool stone wall.  The leftover lightness from my dream disappeared, and I leaned my head back in an attempt to hear Nadia’s voice more clearly.  I couldn’t tell if it was coming from next door or below me.  The acoustics of the stone room created a confusing echo, and made it difficult to discern the origin of the sound.  At the contact of the jagged wall, my head exploded into a million shards of pain.  I automatically reached up to touch the throbbing knot that Nadia had bestowed upon the side of my head, and I regretted it just as quickly.  My hand came away covered in warm, sticky blood.  I tried to wipe my hand on the floor, but only succeeded in spreading it across my entire hand and the floor beneath me.  The thin tank top and cotton shorts I was wearing gave me a hint as to what had happened right before I woke up at this god forsaken spider web.

             
The last thing I remembered was resting on my bed after a warm shower, but I didn’t recall falling asleep.  Could Nadia force me into a reverie, or did she have to wait for me to fall asleep before taking me captive?  Whichever her method, it was successful every time.  I had to figure out a way to block her advances. 

             
I concentrated on the sprinkling of sand near my feet that had been tracked in by Nadia’s shoes, and sent my energy flowing towards it.  I willed it to draw together and create sole pile, but not even the smallest of grains so much as moved a millimeter.  Next, I concentrated on the breeze that flowed in the window. I tried to wrap my energy around it and pull it towards me.  Still nothing.  Had she taken all of my essence!?  Was that even possible?  Or had she just created a vacuum similar to the one in her cavern?  The inability to draw on my essence resulted in a sharp pang of panic and a dread that hovered over my throbbing head.  Although I knew I didn’t know how to harness most of my abilities, it was still comforting to know they were there.  The army of spiders that surrounded me did nothing to ease my nerves.  I closed my eyes and forced my ears to strain and listen.

             
“Don’t crown yourself Queen of the Underworld just yet, Nadia. There is still much to be done,” a smug voice replied with contempt.  A smug voice that I recognized from my vision on the plane.  A smug voice that belonged to the woman with the glowing, pulsing orb…the same orbs the Auras wore around their necks.  Suddenly the woman from my vision, the Auras, and the velvety voice floating up to me in that moment collided into a dizzying mass of understanding.  Selene, the moon goddess.  She was the woman in my vision.  She had descendents at Eventide.  And she was…working with Nadia? Things were going from bad to worse.

             
“Selene is right as always,” purred a third voice. I recognized it, but its owner eluded me.  Most importantly, there were three voices belonging to three women.  My vision couldn’t be far from coming to fruition.  My eyes darted toward the window, which glowed with the colors of the sunset.  Night was approaching.  “Tonight’s ritual will prove to be the turning point.  Without the Prime’s full essence, there is a good chance this will not be successful.” Unfortunately, the speaker’s next words revealed her identity and clicked the last puzzle pieces into their final resting place; tombstone and all.  “We don’t know the extent of her powers yet, so it is imperative that I am as strong as possible.  I will NOT be overthrown by Thetis’s bastard child.  Do you hear me!?”

             
Keto.  Keto wanted our essence, not Nadia.  And she was going to use it against me!  So the worst possible scenario had come to pass.  Keto and Nadia had teamed up against me.  Add the goddess of the Moon to the equation, and you’re left with one very screwed Stasia.

             
Nadia’s laughter singed my ears; reheating my anger.  “Which brings me to my next announcement.  I have a little surprise for you.”  I could picture the proud smirk on her face, and my blood boiled.

             
“Oh?” came Keto’s intrigued reply.  As their voices faded, I had a bad feeling I knew exactly what Nadia’s surprise entailed.  Footsteps sounded outside the wooden door that sealed my arachno-prison, and I struggled against the enchanted chains around my ankles.  They instantly squeezed tighter, cutting off the circulation to my feet.

             
“We may not have all of Finn’s essence,” I heard Nadia’s arrogant voice outside the door as it creaked open “…so I brought us someone with an even more powerful essence.  I give you…Thetis’s bastard child.”

             
As they swept into the room, a shocked expression filtered through Keto’s wild green eyes, while a calculating glimmer shone from Selene’s silver ones.  Each woman’s presence was magnified by their proximity.  Keto wore a long, simple black dress that accentuated the green highlights throughout her hair and the scales running up her arm and neck.  Selene was as ethereal and stunning in person as she had been in my vision; her pale skin standing in contrast to her dark, unruly hair.  The calculating instability of her silver eyes matched the shifting layers of her silver dress.  The same strips of fabric I had seen in my vision hung from her wrists and gathered around her ankles.  As a cold wave of evil washed over me, I instinctively pushed back Nadia’s essence and locked my eyes onto her golden ones so she would know that I was aware of her attempted violation.  She sneered happily at me as if she had been expecting my reaction.  Her arrogance only angered me more. 

             
“Let me go!” I countered; resulting in three very toothy smiles.

             
“Ugh, give it a rest.” Nadia rolled her eyes at me and regarded the other two women under her breath, “I don’t know what he sees in her.  She’s really quite annoying.”

             
“Go to hell,” I growled with hatred.

             
“And quite rude as well,” Nadia scolded me with a smirk. “She certainly needs a lesson in etiquette.”

             
“Quiet,” Selene held up her hand and sent us piercing glares. “Both of you.”

             
“This is quite the accomplishment, Nadia.” Keto glided across the stone floor to stand over me with a smile. “Well done.”

             
“Defeating her will be no problem if she is already under your control,” Selene added.

             
“Yes – however, her essence shall not be left to its own devices.  I will still require your assistance, dear friend.” She gazed at Selene lovingly, but I didn’t miss the threat in her voice. “She could prove very valuable down the road as well.”

             
“You will not control me, and I refuse to let you take my essence!” I threatened her.

             
“It would appear that you have already been proven wrong on both accounts.” Keto nodded at Nadia. “More.  Collect as much as you can.  And make sure she cannot escape.  We will begin the ritual when the moon has reached the highest point in the sky.”

             
“No!” I protested uselessly.  With a gallant twist of their heels, Keto and Selene disappeared from the room; leaving me with the Princess of the Underworld, who clapped her hands together in delight before retrieving the now-empty syringe from the window sill. 

             
“Maybe when Keto makes me Queen of the Underworld, I’ll let you live in my underground room,” she quipped. “But don’t get your hopes up.”

             
“The only throne you should be sitting on is your toilet,” I shot at her with venom.

             
“After mother’s taken care of, I’ll decide who should and should not do what.  Lucky for you, you’ll be scrubbing my throne and toilets for the rest of your pathetic existence.” She knelt down beside me and grinned wickedly. “You’re welcome.”

             
As she grappled my arms and brought the syringe closer to my trace, I realized how weak I had become when my muscles wouldn’t budge beneath her hold.  The last thing I remembered was the sound of her humming my now-most-hated nursery rhyme, the Itsy Bitsy Spider.

-------

              The next time my eyes cracked open, it was to a slight knocking sound farther down the same wall I was leaning against.  Instantly on the defensive, I instinctively searched my surroundings with my sixth sense, only to realize it just wasn’t working
. 
All I felt was the cold stone against my bare skin and the throbbing of my weakened heart, as it strained to push blood through my constricted veins. 

             
The knocking commenced several feet away, more urgent this time.  With every ounce of energy I had left, I scooted several inches toward the sound, and then rapped my knuckles against the wall as hard as my pain threshold would allow.

             
“Hello?” A deep voice murmured from behind the wall. 

             
“Who’s there?” I asked hoarsely.

             
“I heard you crying out.  You sounded like you were…in pain.” His voice trailed off.  I gently touched my face to find fresh tears.  I swallowed thickly before answering.

             
“Who are you? Why are you here?”

             
“I’m a prisoner.  Like yourself,” he answered solemnly.  A vision of the group of people floating above the sand, their souls hovering above their bodies flashed in my memory.

             
“How many others are there?”

             
“I’m not positive,” he conjectured. “Fifteen?  Maybe twenty?”

             
“My vision’s coming true,” I muttered in defeat.  All of those people would die.  All of those souls would be drained of their essence. “Are you a Tyde?”

             
“No.  I’m…nothing,” he said with bitter finality.

             
“Where are we?”

             
“The ancient Isle of Doulos, which means the ‘Island of Slaves’ in English.”

             
“Slaves…” I repeated breathlessly.

             
“You have to find a way out!  You must escape as soon as possible!” His voice took on a more urgent tone as his emotions rose.

             
“I can’t…” I managed, the effort of talking leading me closer and closer to sheer exhaustion. “They’re draining me…I can barely move.”

             
“You have to find a way!” he yelled desperately.  I knew he believed I was his only hope.  But at the moment, I was the one who needed rescuing.  I wasn’t capable of rescuing anyone else.  I heard him gasp as a door slammed.  I closed my eyes as a woman’s voice yelled, and a loud thump shook the wall behind me.  The door slammed once more and then…deafening, absolute silence.

             
“Hello?” I whispered as loudly as I dared, fearing for the man’s life. “Are you okay?”

             
After no response, I slumped down and followed the light of the moon sweep across the floor as it rose higher and higher in the sky.  The silver moonbeams collided with the silk webs that cascaded from the ceiling, creating a spectacular display of nature.  The bark spiders were beginning to stir; busily weaving new strands or repairing old ones.  Their magnificent works of art were dazzling in their intricate designs and artistry.  They worked in tandem, creating one massive web of silky death traps;  just waiting for unsuspecting prey to flutter by or walk into it.  My hand dropped to the floor and landed in something sticky.  I groggily contemplated my blood from earlier in the day that had begun to coagulate on the floor. 

             
Had Finn or my roommates found my body? Had they tried to wake me up?  Were they looking for me?  If I couldn’t return to my body, I had no way of telling them I was in trouble.  I had no way of warning them about what was about to happen or where I was.  Someone had to stop this, and unless Nadia’s vacuum imploded in the next couple of hours, it would most certainly not be me.  Did my body reflect the pain I was in?  Could they see how dark and dull my trace had become?  Could they see the bruises and the blood?  I was reminded of the pain from my wounds after returning from the Underworld.  Every bruise, every scratch had been visible.  That was it! 
Every
scratch
was visible!
  My body!  That’s how I could send them a message!  I looked down at the smooth skin of my arm above my dulled trace, and couldn’t believe that I hadn’t thought of it earlier.

             
My eyes and hands frantically inspected my surroundings for anything remotely sharp.  A sliver of shell that had been tracked in with the sand would have to do.  I ran my finger over it and decided that it would suffice for breaking skin.  I took a deep breath and attempted to justify what I was about to do.  I had a high pain threshold, but I’d never inflicted any amount of pain upon my own body.  Looks like I’d be able to check ‘disfiguring one’s own body’ off my bucket list.