The House of Grey- Volume 5 (19 page)

“Cassius, are you a churchgoing fellow?”

“Not really.”

“But I assume you are familiar with the story of Adam and Eve?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Then you know that Adam and Eve are said to be the parents of all humans born in this world. You know that their creation, preparation and perpetuation were a part of a master plan of the great Creator. If you know the story, then you know that they were special souls given certain privileges and powers because they had a special purpose in the stewardship of their people. I am sure if you had ever gone to church you would have heard something similar to this.”

Everyone nodded dully.

“The story varies depending on the interpretation of historical evidence that recounts Adam and Eve’s trials and tribulations. Of course, I am speaking of the Bible. While these stories do vary, they all explain that Adam and Eve were created in God’s image, that they lived in the Garden of Eden, and eventually left to raise their family. This is their basic story cultivated through human history. Yet what if I told you that there was more to it?”

“More to it?” Grayson shifted tensely in his chair, even forgetting to speak with his accent. “Like what? And what could it possibly have to do with the Brotherhood and the Being of Seven Bloods?”

Brian’s eyes went wide. “Master Garrett, how do you know that title?”

Grayson’s eyes met Brian’s. “The Being of Seven Bloods? I know the title because a silver-haired woman named Sariah told my family that they were needed to find him//her/whatever. I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine, but you first.”

Brian stared at him uncertainly. “Fair enough. In answer to your question, everything has to do with the story of Creation, because it was at the Creation, or right after, that things went wrong. This will not make sense, however, until you understand that while Adam, or Ad-ma in the original tongue, and E-vas were the first humans to walk the earth, they were not the first beings created in the execution of the plan.”

The statement hung in the air. The feeling of suspicion, disbelief and plain old skepticism prickled the listening crowd. They held their silence, waiting, but only because the possibility seemed ridiculous.

“Ad-ma and E-vas were actually the youngest of the Seven pairs, the youngest of the creators’ children. They were the last to be created; there were twelve others who came before them.”

“Let me get this straight,” cut in Casey. “You’re trying to tell me that there are other humanoid-like people out there? Things that aren’t human are roaming the earth and are out to kill us?”

Brian glanced at Casey disapprovingly. “Not exactly, Master Kay. What I am telling you is when the worlds were created, there were not two but fourteen and these fourteen were to inherit the kingdoms of the Creators.”

Monson actually raised his hand. “This might be a dumb question, but if there are supposed to be six other races beside humans, where are they?”

“Most of them live elsewhere. Humans dominate Earth. Very few members of the other races live here anymore, mainly due to the imbalance in the Kei distribution on this planet.” Brian looked at his watch. “There are some exceptions, however; some very important exceptions.”

Brian left it hanging.

“Brian,” said Monson in an unsure voice. “Are you trying to tell us that…that you aren’t human?”

Brian smiled. “No, Master Grey. I am telling you…that none of us is human.”

The creak of an opening door jolted everyone in the room. “We have…to…to get…out….”

Monson looked up to see Cyann leaning heavily against the door to his room. Her eyes looked glazed, her dark hair tousled, and she appeared as if she were about to pass out.

A few people echoed her name in surprise and disbelief. Kylie and Marie were about to jump to her aid but Monson was the fastest.

He rushed to her side and caught her before she collapsed heavily to the ground. Monson picked her up, cradling her like a baby. “What are you doing out of bed, you silly girl?”

“Monson, do you want my help?” asked Marie softly.

“No,” answered Monson, blushing slightly as he realized that Cyann wasn’t wearing any pants, just one of his t-shirts. He desperately fought his embarrassment as he touched her bare thigh. “I—I will…I’ll just take her back to my room and put her back to bed.”

Monson almost kicked open his door in his attempt to get through it, all the time whispering to Cyann. “Are you crazy? You’ve lost so much blood. Hello—that kills people. I’m never going to forgive you if you die, you know.”

“Monson…colors...mix…ground…out…c-coming…hurry….”

Monson gently placed Cyann on the bed. He rested her head on his pillow, making sure not to catch any of her long, dark hair and then tucked the covers in around her.

“You just get better, OK?” he whispered.

Satisfied, he was turning to leave when Cyann caught his hand. Her strong grip nearly pulled him to his floor; it was too strong for someone so close to death. Monson returned to her side. She extended her other hand.

“Coming…I can see…it’s coming….”

Monson grabbed her other hand now, more than a little weirded out. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Cyann. What’s com—
”

Monson did not answer but watched as Cyann’s hand started to glow with silver light. He realized that it was not actually Cyann who was glowing, but rather his stone. He had forgotten that she had been wearing it when she and Kylie left the dance. Why was it glowing?

Monson took the gleaming gem in his hand but instantly went rigid as a sharp probe shot into his mind.
Immediately overcome, he crumpled to the floor.

Chapter 55 – The Adversary Sees All

Four peaks sit in the sky like sentinels above a massive gorging belly, the land like a beast containing an unnatural and unknown horror. Darkness, hollow darkness sits within the belly of that beast, peaceful for now. And then there is a flicker, then a flare; something in the belly of the beast starts to awaken.
First red, then blue.
The opposites seethe and spar in the eyes of the adversary.

The adversary sees all.

See the soft warmth of the River’s Serenity and the violence of the Dragon’s Breath. Commingling the stillness with passion, the light with darkness, the freedom with rage all so the horde may come to the Queen’s aid…. Beware the Darkness of Noonday.

Monson awoke having slept through the night, albeit fitfully. Dreams plagued his rest. Dreams that were of the precise cut and variety he was so accustomed to and yet…these were different. With these new dreams came new insight in a truly physical sense. His eyes looked upon the world and saw monumental differences; there was color in everything, from the air and the rushing wind to the ground and its steadfast solidity.

His world was Technicolor. 

All of it—everything existing in the world—brimmed with bright energy and a godly glow. It was as if Monson was seeing the spinning of Creation itself. Beautiful.

Monson tried to move his arm and realized it was dead; that currently no blood was flowing to it. It felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. His body went limp as something very warm floated over his arm, heightening his rather dull senses. Monson opened his eyes, taking a minute to allow them to adjust. Once they did, he wished he had kept them closed. 

Someone was in the bed with him—in his bed! He saw a mountain of glossy black hair and caught a warm waft of blended lavender. Monson gradually understood, probably not as fast as he should have, that he
was smelling
shampoo, shampoo that was definitely not his. Monson pushed some of the hair out of the face of his bedmate. Comprehension dawned and his mouth dropped open.

Cyann Harrison was fully asleep in the same bed as him and was using his arm as a pillow.

This was bad, really bad. How did this happen?

Monson froze as Cyann’s eyelids slowly opened. He had absolutely no idea what she was going to do. He half-expected her to lash out or at least scream, but to his surprise, she did nothing of the sort, instead merely smiling. Then, as unbelievable as it was, she closed her eyes and snuggled back up against his arm.

Sure enough, after a few long moments, her eyes popped back open. Her lips followed, opening wide. She was about to scream—about to scream bloody murder. Monson sprang without thinking, literally pouncing on her. Using his good hand, the one that did not feel like it was about to fall off, he clamped it over her mouth and used his body to immobilize her. Her eyes widened even further as she breathed heavily out of her nose. He spoke softly, trying to remain calm.

“Cyann, it’s me.”

Cyann gave her head a little shake, attempting to dismiss her weariness. Once she did, her expression changed from a damsel in distress to a damsel seriously pissed off. Her body tightened up to fight.

“Cyann.” Monson used his tingling dead hand to brush her cheek. “It’s me, Monson.”

She relaxed dramatically though her face went beet red. He removed his hand from her mouth and rolled off her.

“Monson? What are you doing in my....” Her sentence trailed off as she glanced around.

“You’re in my room,” whispered Monson, praying to all that was holy that Brian was not in the apartment.

“Why am I in your room?” Cyann’s face was still slightly pink. She stared at him; he stared back. Monson watched as the mental water wheel turned and turned. He waited until a look of comprehension dawned on her face.

“Kylie and I were attacked last night, right at that new ugly slab of marble that Baroty calls a monument. There was a man; he was wearing a black cloak. Just like the one at....”

Her voice drifted.

Monson finished her sentence. “At Baroty Bridge.”

Cyann sat up. “Do you think they’re connected?”

Monson shrugged. “I don’t know what to think anymore, but let’s put that aside for a moment. Do you know why that man attacked you?”

The question surprised even Monson yet it resonated soundly within him. Mr. Gatt and Brian had explained the reason for the Brotherhood’s presence; they had come for him or this Being of Seven Bloods. But that begged the question: If they were there for him, why did they attack Cyann and Kylie?

Cyann shook her head. “It’s a bit fuzzy to be honest. I remember that he seemed surprised to see us. Like he wasn’t expecting it, but then he got really happy.”

She trailed off again, inadvertently allowing herself to slip into evident embarrassment and awkwardness. She looked around the room, obviously disconcerted, as if she really did not want to continue with the narrative.

“Cyann,” said Monson gently. “What’s wrong?”

Cyann bit at the corner of her lip. “I can’t tell you what happened next. You would not believe me if I did.”

Monson laughed affectionately. “Whatever it is, Cyann, I promise I’ll believe you.”

He took a long, steadying breath. “Besides, I don’t think that buying what you have to sell will be such a stretch for me.”

Cyann stared at him suspiciously but almost instantly let her countenance soften.

“Monson, do you believe in magic?”

Monson let his gaze drop. He knew where this conversation was heading. Oddly enough, his answer surprised him. Yes, he did believe in magic and not just because he had by now witnessed several instances of it. No, he actually believed. He felt that belief run deep. It was because of that belief that he answered without hesitation.

“Yes.”

He shot her another warm smile. “I do believe in magic.”

Cyann’s voice grew stronger, becoming more confident. “The man in the black cloak created a sword right in front of me, Monson. I know that sounds ridiculous but it’s true, I swear. It was something straight out of a fantasy novel. He gestured wildly at first, literally drawing in mid-air. You should have seen what happened when he finished. There were traces of color lingering in the air, like he was a child with a glowing magic marker. I’ve never seen anything like that. After his gesturing, he pulled his massive hand-and-a-half sword, but it was unlike any sword I’d ever seen. It seemed completely forged of living flames. It was terrifying.”

Cyann shuddered at some unseen
horror,
lost in something only she could see. She continued a half-second later.

“The man and his goons attacked after that. I tried to fight back but there were too many and I didn’t have a weapon. I took a couple of hits to my legs, arms and left shoulder but was able to get a sword away from one of them. My fencing instincts just took over. I knew I had to protect Kylie and myself, so I let them have it. But before long, one of them struck me in the back and I don’t remember anything after that.”

“I can fill you in.” Monson leaned over, his face resting on his hand and his elbow on the bed. His arm felt all tingly and prickly as it regained its blood flow. “Casey, Artorius and I found you two—”

“And you saved us?” Cyann’s deep blue eyes bore into him. 

“The others helped,” said Monson, squirming under her gaze. “Actually I’m pretty confused on what really happened myself; the events were pretty…irregular.”