Dirt (The Dirt Trilogy) (15 page)

Worry clouds the youth on Ruis
’ face. The fear of who he is
about to become takes a toll on him.
“You are going to do great things, Ruis. I know you are.” I try
to give him support. I try to give him something. I wrap my hand
around his forearm and he puts his hand around mine. The moisture
of his hand reveals that his nerves are winning.
“How can you have so much faith in me?”
“Because I know deep down inside, you are good, Ruis.” I
know he isn’t fearful of the caverns, but scared of surrendering to
darkness, becoming evil for eternity. I feel sorry for him. I really
don’t know if he’ll be able to pull this off or not. I’m not about to
let him know I have a bit of doubt.
Rowen’s hand touches the back of my arm. “Let’s go,” he
whispers.
Ruis walks away to meet Coll and Alder on the other side of
the field. Apparently, we aren’t going with them.
“I know you can’t tell me what’s going on…but what’s going
on?”
When he
looks
at me I’m
totally
vulnerable
and totally
comfortable. He doesn’t have to ask. “Yes, I trust you,” I answer.
We stroll toward the stables under cloudy skies. The rain lets
up, except for a slight drizzle. Ruamna sees Rowen and neighs,
stomping her feet shaking the ground beneath my feet.
“Easy, girl.” Marvin brushes down the magnificent sorrel,
attempting to keep her calm. Lucinda, on the other hand, sits in a
chair a few feet away looking worn and tired. Her hair stands
straight on end as if she has been tumbled in a dryer for a couple of
hours. I can’t help, but chuckle. I guess flying on a giant horse at
five thousand feet isn’t something that agrees with her. She is
oblivious to her disheveled appearance.
“Ashe, dear, you’re here. We’ve been so worried about you.”
She puts me in the strangulation hold and Marvin joins in.
After they release me from the choke hold, I catch my breath.
“How’s Dad?”
“He’s fine. He’s worried about you. We told him we would
make sure you’re all right. You are all right aren’t you?” they ask as
if they know something.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I don’t tell them about the ordeal with Straif. It
would make them worry. I’m sure they know what’s going on, but
I’m not going to give them any details.
They dote over me for a few minutes, while Ruamna and
Rowen catch up with one another. Rowen leans his forehead into
Ruamna’s shoulder breathing her in. The sorrel reaches behind and
nudges him on the back with her muzzle, her flaxen mane blends
with Rowen’s blond hair. One completes the other.
Marvin and Lucinda ask me a
thousand questions. It’s
comforting to see familiar faces. “Tell Dad I love him.”
“We will,” Lucinda reassures.
With a concerned expression, Marvin leans in and says to
Rowen,“I don’t know exactly what is going on, but you take care
of her, you hear?” He sounds like my father. Well, he sounds like
my father would sound if my father was normal.
“I’m not going to let anything happen to her,” Rowen answers
respectfully.
He jumps onto Ruamna’s back and puts his hand out. I take
hold without delay. When the horse kneels down, Rowen pulls me
up to join him. As we glide into the sky over the field behind
Congramaid, I wave‘good-bye’ to the Birches, hoping I’ll see them
again soon.
We fly in the rain for a few minutes, until we break the cloud
barrier and we’re above the storm. The warm air blows and dries us
out. I don’t care if I’m wet, cold, or freezing. I’m glad to be with
Rowen. No one flies along with us. It’s paradise. I hold on, my
arms around him tight, and unrelenting. Every once in a while, he
turns
and kisses
me, without
holding
back, without
anyone
watching, without anyone judging.
In the distance, stand the Mountains of Li Sula. Déjà vu visits
me with fear as we land in the valley beneath the mountain. Rowen
slides off Ruamna’s back, and I sit frozen with my hands on her
withers. Terror runs through me like sparks of fire. Ruamna is
agitated. I hold on to her even tighter.
“Whoa, whoa girl,” Rowen tries to calm her.
I can’t scream. I can’t make a sound. I hold on for dear life
when she rears up.
As she stands on her hind legs pawing at the air, my grip
loosens and I slide over her rump and off her back. Rowen catches
me before I hit the ground. As my touch leaves her, the great horse
calms and returns to her normal demeanor.
“What was that all about?” I ask.
“I have no idea.” Rowen puts me down gently, my legs
shaking. He checks on Ruamna, who is herself again. It was as if a
demonic horse spirit momentarily possessed her.
We watch making sure she remains calm, and then we leave
her there to graze as we head up the mountainside. I’m uneasy. The
walk doesn’t seem long, I guess because my mind continues to
wander into the world of‘what-ifs.’
Before we proceed through the entry of the caverns, Rowen
informs me of the plans. We are to hide out until we have a sign
from the others. Ruis is going to transform and approach Straif in
his dark form. That will give us time to find the paintings while
Alder and Coll hunt for the sister key.
After
we
sit quietly
for
a
few moments, Rowen notices
something. “There,” he says pointing. In the sky, are the brethren’s
horses without riders. We see the silhouette of the massive beasts as
they land beside Ruamna. They’re apparently glad to see her,
neighing and rubbing one another with their muzzles. The peace of
watching them has to end. It is time.
We
make
our way
through the entrance. “I’m here,”
he
reassures me. He squeezes my hand gently, and I stop trembling.
Even though he is with me, I’m scared to death. The last time I was
here, I almost died. This time things are different. I have my
protector. I try to convince myself I’ve nothing to worry about. I
take a deep breath and pull myself together. A chill cuts through the
air, with the reminder of my last encounter here as the scent of
disgust fills my nostrils.
I hear movement in the hallways, but no one appears from
behind the sounds. Rowen holds my hand as we make our way
down the stairwell, his sword drawn at his side. We hear voices
coming toward us, and Rowen pulls me into a small breezeway off
to the side of the stairwell. I hold my breath as two dark cloaked
Thorn pass by us preoccupied with chatter. After their passing, we
venture further downward deeper into the underground. I start to
notice works of art I’d seen during my previous visit.
“I recognize these. We’re going the right way,” I tell Rowen as
he speeds up. He never lets go of my hand. The deeper we delve
into the fortress of darkness, the more I recognize and the more
terror seeps into the corners of my mind. I wonder if they have
anyone else in that cell, or if it was intended for me.
“Turn here.” We sneak by the open door to the dining area. It’s
vacant except for a couple of imps leaning back and dozing in the
chairs of the still decorated room. Their obnoxious snores resonate
in the hallway as we slip by unnoticed.
“We’re
getting
close. I
hope
my
paintings haven’t been
moved.” I recall the event before I left the cell. Straif tore them
from the wall and threw them onto the floor. I doubt they’ll still be
lying there.
As we approach the room where I had been previously held
captive, silence soaks the space with eeriness. My homework isn’t
on the wall. I look over to the floor where they had been thrown and
they are no longer there.
“Great!” I hiss in a whisper. “Now, what do we do?”
“He’s probably watching us right now,” Rowen points out.
Voices move toward us from the stairwell and one sounds
vaguely familiar. I recognize thatit’s Duir because of the strange
hoarseness in his tone. “You can go back. I’ll take them to Straif.”
He sends his help away and calls down from the passageway,“We
know you’re here.”
Rowen pushes me behind him as he shoves our bodies into a
small crevice in the wall. Enough space remains for us to breathe as
our bodies press together. I could stay here forever, except for the
fact that Duir is outside.
“Come out, come out where ever you are,” he taunts.“You
can’t hide forever.” He peers around the corner and spots us. He
jerks Rowen out first and then me.
“There you are. Now, that wasn’t so hard,” he says as pride
glazes his words. He grabs Rowen by one arm and me by the other.
Apparently, he isn’t the sharpest tool The Thorn has. In split
second, as he occupies both of his hands in our apprehension,
Rowen unsheathes his sword and raises it toward Duir. The second
rate thug releases me in order to draw his own sword. Suddenly,
I’m not scared, but mad. No, make that furious.
As he engages Rowen, in sword-to-sword combat, I don’t
know what comes over me. I can’t sit back and watch. Out of
nowhere I reach my hands out and clinch Duir around the waist
holding on like a parasite. I don’t have a plan, but I’m crazed with
anger.
“Get back, Ashe!” Rowen yells at me as Duir tries to pull me
off. “Ashe, what do you think you are doing?”
Apparently, I’m not thinking clearly, only reacting. My anger
blazes, Duir screams in pain, and his body becomes rigid. He’s
turning to stone. His waist is hard as rock and the longer I hold on
to him, the more he transforms. His screams burse with torment. I
jump back, releasing my grip, and the morphing stops short of his
face, which remains flesh and blood. His body is stone, complete
rock. A gleam of emerald fades from his eyes.
“What have you done to me?” he utters with his last inch of
breath. His rocky figure stands in the middle of the room, as his
fleshy eyes remain open.
Rowen, walks over to me staring at Duir as he passes by the
malformed dead body. “Ashe, how did you do that?” He face is full
of shock as he touches Duir’s stone arm unsure of what happened.
I inspect my hands. “I don’t know,” I say with disbelief. I’m
clearly capable of something, but what I don’t know. Whatever
came over me scares me.
What am I?
“Come, we must find the others, we must find those paintings.”
He takes my hand, which I’m not sure he should do at this point. In
reflex, I pull my hand out of his. “You won’t hurt me. It’s okay.”
I’m hesitant. “I’m still your protector,” he says with a sensual
smirk.
With apprehension, I give into him and place my hand in his.
We race up the stairwell. I have no idea where we are headed. We
have no idea where the paintings are, but it’s obvious Straif is still
watching me. As we ascend, we hear footsteps coming down the
stairs toward us. We dart off down an alternate stairwell, headed
who knows where. I hear another set of voices. It’s Straif. We’re
getting closer to something.
We find another niche in the wall and scoot into the hidden
place while we listen. Straif is close. He’s talking to someone
whose voice sounds uncomfortably familiar…its Ruis.
“They are here now, my lord,” Ruis says. His voice has
changed so dramatically that finding young Ruis in the tone is
difficult.
“Ruis, what are you doing?” Alder yells.
Our darkest fear has come true. It didn’t take long. Ruis has
converted over. We’ve lost him to the darkness. We creep out of
our safe place and walk quietly down the steps keeping our backs to
the wall. Rowen looks around the corner to see Alder and Coll
strapped to the ceiling by chains.
“Ruis, don’t do this. Remember. Remember what you are.
Remember who you are,” Alder pleads. Coll says nothing while
fury boils within him. Coll catches a glimpse of Rowen as he stands
hidden behind the wall of the stairwell, I hide behind my protector.
Alder tries to reason with Ruis. The darkness has destroyed all
reason. Alder’s voice gets louder and louder, but Ruis is beyond
hope.
“Do you think you could do that again?” Rowen murmurs.
“I don’t even know what I did,” I say. Apparently my whisper
wasn’t as quiet as his.
“We have visitors,” Straif says.
We step out from behind the wall, Rowen with sword drawn.
Straif and his new apprentice, Ruis, immediately hold their swords
up, ready for combat. Rowen engages the two of them, while I try
to free the others, with no success. I hold Alder’s chains in my hand
and imagine breaking them. Nothing. Nothing at all happens. Okay,
if I have some kind of power, I need to know how to use it. When
Straif’s sword flies through the air and strikes Rowen on the cheek
bringing a small bit of red to the surface, rage gushes through me.
Straif hits Rowen with an open hand throwing him across the
room, and my wrath unfolds. Something starts to happen, but I
don’t know what, as the rock above us begins to crumble, Alder’s
chains fall from the ceiling. Alder looks at me as if he’s seen a
ghost. Alder swings his sword hitting the shackles wrapping Coll’s
wrists. They open at the blow and Rowen’s twin is released. With
his sword Coll does the same for Alder, freeing him from his metal
cuffs. All the motion happens in the swiftness of a thought. Rowen
is losing the battle and my anger resurfaces. Now, it’s three on two:
Alder, Rowen and Coll against Ruis and Straif, when two more
goons come in to break the odds.
I see my paintings hanging on the wall. As the battle ensues, I
take Bran’s assignments from the wall and rip them apart as my
frustration steams. As I tear, smoke rises from the canvas and soon
the paintings turn into flames, I step back as my afflicted artwork
burns to ashes. With a demonic look, Ruis grabs me by the wrist
and pulls my back up to his chest, facing the others almost as if we
are in a violent tango. He has a knife to my throat. This isn’t a
dance I want to be a part of.