Authors: Lindsay Bassett
Picking up my tray I stared at the wine in the wooden cup. I didn’t want to burden him to remove the alcohol, so I began to lift it up to my lips. As it touched my lips I heard him say “don’t.”
Peering through the bars I saw him approaching. “I didn’t want them to see me awake.” he said, whispering to me through the bars. “They only put you next to me because I haven't moved from the corner in ages. I've been the equivalent of a dead immortal. We have to keep our talking a secret.”
I smiled at him through the bars, and he smiled back. There was a twinkle in his eye. “I was thinking.” he said. “I was trying to remember my life before I came here. I have remembered some things. I am a prisoner of war.”
“What war?” I asked.
“Well,” he said. “I was fighting alongside my brothers and sons, for territory. So many of us came out west, for solitude. The Corrupt had moved in and pushed us north, overwhelming us with their numbers. We pushed back, and I was captured. The year was 1710.”
I tried to imagine being in the dark cell, listening to the sorrowful cries for that long. I shuddered. “I would go insane.” I said.
He chuckled. “There is a way to be in a place, without being in that place.” he said. “I sleep. I figure maybe one day I will wake up and be free from my cell.”
Standing up, I paced around the cell. I would be out of the cell in another twenty days. I had to think of a plan. Crouching down close to him, I put my face near his through the bars. “I will get you out of here.” I said.
“You will leave here,” he said, “and go on with your life. I will go back to sleep. Don’t bother with me.”
“I
will
get you out of here.” I repeated.
He leaned in closer, searching my eyes. “I believe you.” he said.
“The name is Emily.” I said.
“Mine is Vidar.” he said, putting his hand through the bar. I put my hand in his, and he squeezed it.
Waking up I felt my body aching from head to toe. I would have given anything for just a pillow. I tried healing myself, but still nothing worked.
“Vidar.” I said, turning my head towards his cell. I saw his figure approaching, and I crawled on the floor towards him. I felt too weak to stand. “Have you ever had your, um, abilities leave you?” I asked.
“No.” he said, leaning his back against the bars and speaking to me over his shoulders. “But they have become weakened.”
“If you still have your abilities,” I said, “then why don’t you just open the door and leave?”
“I cannot.” he said. “I am too weak. They caught me when I was wounded and drained of nearly all of my blood. There is no life in here. No light, no wind, no trees or flowing water. I cannot fully recover.”
“There was a time, before I was wounded, that a woman like Muriel would be no match for me. I would have burst through this silly cell, tied Muriel up, carried her under my arm as
my
prisoner, and left this place before they could even blink twice.”
Imagining Muriel struggling like I did in her arms, I smiled at the thought. Then I remembered being thrown into the cell and feeling the back of my head bleeding. Healing the wound was the last thing I did before my abilities left me.
“My abilities are gone.” I said. “I have no power left in me.”
“Power?” he asked. “The abilities you were born with have nothing to do with power.”
“I drank blood.” I said. “Human blood. It gave me power.”
“Ah.” he said. “You don’t know much, do you?”
I laughed. “I do know some things. I have a bachelors degree in chemistry.”
“A woman?” he asked, laughing. “With a bachelors degree in chemistry?”
“That’s what I did, about sixty hours a week, for years after college. Until I walked into a Jewelry shop that was only supposed to allow immortals in.”
“You didn’t know?” he asked.
“No.” I said. “I thought my dad had died in a car crash while my mom was pregnant with me. As it turns out, he is immortal. He had been watching me my whole life.”
“I have an idea.” he said. “Would you like to barter? You could tell me about how the world has changed, and I could tell you the things that you
should
know about yourself.”
“I like that idea.” I said.
“You start.” he said. “Tell me something.”
“There is a thing, called the Internet, that allows people from all over the world to share and see pictures, news, information and messages.”
“Internet.” he said, trying out the word. “How do they see this Internet?”
After trying to figure out how to describe it, I finally said “Glowing screens. There are glowing screens that display the images. People even have these glowing screens on their phones now.”
“Phones?” he asked.
“Oh.” I said. “A phone is a device that you hold up to your ear, and you can talk to other people that have the phones just about anywhere in the world.”
He was quiet for a bit and I waited patiently. “I have one for you now.” he said. “Have you heard of the divine order?”
“I just began reading about it before I ran away to trade myself in for my mom.” I said. “I don’t know much.”
“The ability that allowed you to speak to things, like your own blood, is your connection to the divine order.” he said. “After you drank the blood, think about how you changed your speech.”
I thought back to the first time when I’d spoken to tiny microbes in my microscope. I was polite. I was gentle. I asked instead of making demands. “I was being rude.” I said. “I was commanding.”
“Correct.” he said. “That is not the way of the divine. You need to find your way back to it.”
“How?” I asked.
“You’ll think of something.” he said.
It all sounded like riddles to me. Standing up, I paced around my cell. I tried to take myself back to who I was when I first discovered my abilities. I was in love, and happy. I enjoyed the purring of my cat George. I enjoyed a good joke.
It was difficult to feel happy in a dank cell in an underground prison. I sat back down next to Vidar with my back to his, against the bar. I began humming and remembered a song.
“This little light of mine.” I sang, quietly. “I’m going to let it shine.” My heart felt lighter, and my aches dulled down. I began singing a little bit louder.
“Oh-oh, this little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine. This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine. Let it shine, shine, shine. Let it shine.” A tear trickled down my cheek, and I wiped it away. I missed the light of the sun. Closing my eyes, I remembered the sensation of the sun on my face. “When was the last time you felt the light of the sun, Vidar?” I asked.
“Oh,” he said, “it’s been a long, long time. A hundred years, maybe.”
“Do you remember what it felt like, on your skin?” I asked.
He was quiet for a minute. “No.” he said.
“I remember.” I said. “That it was cold this winter. I went for a walk early in the morning when the sun began to rise. The sun rose up and broke through the trees. It felt warm on my face. It was like a kiss.”
“Ahhhh” he said, as if he were being kissed by the sun himself.
I thought about watching the seasons change in Hollywood, California. It wasn’t as dramatic as the icy cold winters in Ashland, Oregon transforming into Spring.
In Hollywood, it always seemed warm to me. I enjoyed the winter chill as much as I enjoyed the warmth and smells of dew and rain in the Springtime. I missed Ashland, with its contrasts. I missed home.
Suddenly I realised something. “My birthday.” I said. “My birthday was in February, and I forgot all about it.”
“How old?” he asked.
“I’m thirty now.” I said.
He chuckled and said “You’re just a baby.”
I looked down at my hands, and they looked soft like a baby’s skin. “I wonder if I will ever grow old.” I said.
“You won’t.” he said.
“But I am mortal.” I said. “My heart still beats.”
“The burning bush.” he said, reverently.
More words that sounded like riddles. Taking in a deep breath, I continued to examine my flawless hands.
“Something about that eternal beating heart seems to turn you all into heroes.” he said. “At least, that’s how it begins.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Every one of your kind in history has fallen to darkness, eventually.” he said.
My mind raced through my own history and I examined the vast, empty hole I’d made where my dad had been. I shivered. I was well on my way there.
Vidar and I exchanged our knowledge, one piece at a time. I told him about technology, science and industry. I told him about the nations of the world, and the wars that had happened while he was locked away. I told him about modern life and relationships.
Vidar was feeding me information about my immortal side, but it all seemed like riddles to me. “To find your way back to the divine you must look within yourself.” he said.
“You sound like a fortune cookie.” I said, with a laugh.
“What’s a fortune cookie?” he asked.
“It’s a little cookie with a message inside on a piece of paper.” I said. “You get them at Chinese restaurants.”
“Interesting.” he said.
Sitting with my back against the bars I began running the palms of my hands across the smooth stone of the floor. The palms of my hands felt tingly. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the stone touching my palms.
I felt a connection with the stone. The best way I could describe the feeling was that we understood each other. Humming, I came up with a sweet little song just for the stone. The song turned sorrowful as I told the stone the pain I felt, inside and out. The stone softened beneath me. “Ahhhhh.” I said.
“Vidar.” I whispered, over my shoulder and through the bars. The shuffling sounds moved closer until I felt him sitting with his own back against the bars. “Do you feel stronger?” I asked.
“Yes.” he said.
“So do I.” I said.
“I think we are good for each other.” I said.
Getting up, I sat in the center of the cell and meditated with my legs crossed under me. Pushing away things in my mind, I set about to search for the source of my strength. My mind honed in on the image of Vidar’s face as he seemed to smile with his eyes.
“Love.” I thought. I was beginning to love Vidar as a friend. In my mind I looked beyond the face of Vidar, and straight into the love. I saw a thousand sunrises all happening at once as if time had slipped away and woven them together into a brilliant glowing tapestry.
Gasping for breath, I opened my eyes. I could feel the light growing inside my chest, and I lifted my hand to feel my heart beating. I felt nourished.
Vidar’s words, “look within yourself,” echoed through my mind. Closing my eyes, I looked for it again. I saw myself walking through the Sycamore grove in Ashland, running my fingers across the trunks of the trees. I felt their life flowing beneath my fingertips in my mind.
I looked up to the sky in my memory and saw the sunlight flickering through the tree branches as they swayed their eerie dance in the breeze. The little branches reached towards the sky, like reaching fingertips trying to touch the sun. I wanted to touch the sun.
After opening my eyes I crawled towards the back of the cell, facing the wall. I began whispering to the sun, sweetly and gently. I asked the sun to find me, to let me touch it with my fingertips. I whispered the words over and over again, for hours.
Then it happened. A tiny crack opened up in the wall, and a little stream of light poured through. I ran my fingertips over the light, feeling it warm them. Bowing my head I felt the little ray of light pour over me.
I bathed in the light until I heard footsteps approaching far off in the distance. After thanking the light with my whispers I said “You have to go now, it’s not safe.” The crack in the wall closed up, and I touched my fingertips to where it had been.
I heard the sound of my tray being removed and a new one replacing it. After the sounds of the figures footsteps trailed off in the distance, I looked over to the cell next to me. Vidar approached the bars, then looked through at me with watery eyes. “Light.” he said, with a big grin on his face.
After standing up, I stepped towards the bars. I crouched down and looked him in the eyes and said “I found my way back.”
He nodded, silently.
Looking over at the door to my cell, I whispered in a sing song voice. The door made a clicking sound and opened. I promptly closed it.
Vidar looked at me with a mischievous smile. I wagged my eyebrows at him, and he laughed. I laughed along with him, a deep laugh erupting from my belly.
Apologies
Rising up from the center
of the cell where I’d been meditating, I rolled forward and backward on the balls of my feet. I did a half cart wheel, pausing on my hands, and then did a back flip. I landed softly on my feet, without making a sound.
After taking in a deep breath I looked over to Vidar’s cell. Walking over to the bars I crouched down with my hands around the cell bars. “Vidar.” I whispered.
Vidar approached, and I could see his twinkling blue eyes staring back at me through the bars. “I’ve been counting the days, Vidar.” I said. “I’m going to be leaving soon.”
“I know.” he said, putting his hands over mine on the bars. “I will miss you Emily. You have been the light of my world.”
“I will be back for you.” I said, looking intently into his eyes. “I promise.”
“Emily. You have the heart of a hero.” he said. “But do not put yourself in danger for me.”
“I care about you, Vidar.” I said. “Something tells me that you would do the same for me.”
“I would.” he said, nodding seriously.
“Be ready.” I said. “Try to get stronger. When I come back for you we will have to run.”
Sitting cross legged in the center of my cell, I meditated for days. The sound of the ocean, miles and miles away, roared in my ears. I heard the swaying trees of trees and the chirps of birds in the wilderness of Northern California. I listened in to the conversations of Muriel and her masters. I was ready when she came for me.
Her heels clicked familiarly as she approached me. My weeping was ringing through the prison before she had even descended the stairs. The wine was full of alcohol that morning, and I made sure to spill some down my dress so that I reeked of it.
My body was weak because I had asked it to be. Laying on the cold stone floor with my face pressed against it, my head hurt and my body ached, genuinely. I knew I had to suffer so that I wouldn’t rouse suspicion.
The barred door to the cell creaked open opened. I didn’t move. “Emily.” said Muriel. “It’s time to go.”
I tried to move, but my body ached too much. “Muriel?” I said, beginning to weep again. “Oh Muriel, I’m so sorry.”
Muriel lifted my ragged body from the floor. She held me like a baby. “Shhhh.” she said. “It’s over now.”
Muriel carried me gently, ascending the stairs. Feeling like I was floating, I rose through the air. The musty taste of the prison disappeared from my mouth, replaced with notes of springtime.
The floating ended and the softness of my bed cradled my body. When I cracked open my eyes the brightness of the room was overwhelming. Closing them again I feigned sleep.
Muriel’s heels clicked away, leaving the room. The soft steps of another person entered. Looking sideways cracked eyelids I saw a man standing in the corner with his arms crossed. I had a babysitter.
Hours later I was being propped up and a tray of food sat on my lap. I tasted fresh fruit, salad, and milk for the first time in a month. Everything tasted bright and pleasant.
Muriel stood next to my bed and said “Don’t overdo it, or you’ll end up praying to the porcelain god in the bathroom.”
I let out a laugh. Looking over at Muriel I saw her smiling. She shifted her posture and relaxed a little.
I feigned sleepiness again, with an orange slice resting in my fingers. “Emily.” said Muriel.
“Sorry.” I said. “I’m just so
weak
.”
She leaned in close to me and said “There will be no blood for you dear, if
that
is what you are thinking about.”
Looking down at the food tray, I made my face look sad. She grabbed me by the chin with her hand and made me face her. “I don’t trust you.” she said, pressing her fingers into my skin. After I cringed she let go, turning on her heels and walking away.
“Perfect.” I thought. It was exactly what I was hoping for. Setting the food tray aside I curled up in my bed feigning sleep again. As I lay still in my bed I listened to the world around me. I listened to the house, and to Muriel giving orders to the guards. I memorized the routines of the men taking shifts, and the sounds of each of their movements.
Paying close attention to my own movements, I memorized the pattern of my breathing and the sound of my own beating heart. As I pretended to regain some strength over the days, the guards moved from inside my bedroom to outside the bedroom door. Still, I knew they listened.
It was for that reason, that when I rose out of my bed and began moving around that I made sure my breathing and heartbeat matched the same sound as if I were sleeping. As the guards assumed I was sleeping, I became an expert at moving quickly and quietly. I danced like an ice-skater throughout my room, spinning and moving with grace, landing softly on my feet without making a sound.
Sitting in the window with an audience of robins sitting on the windowsill, I felt like a woodland princess. I quietly sang songs from my childhood to them, like “You Are My Sunshine.”
I spoke and sang to the birds, the trees, the plants, the insects and the water in the pool. I made waves in the water and watched as trees stretched their branches towards me.
After a week of training myself, I knew I was ready. I asked the air around me to mimic the sounds of my breathing and my heart beating. As soon as it had the pattern down, I surrounded myself in silence and walked into the bathroom. Opening the large window over the bathtub, I stepped out onto a tiny ledge, into the darkness of the night. Holding my body against the outside of the second story of the mansion, I felt a breeze whip up against my face.
Politely, I asked the breeze to carry me. Feeling the wind pick me up like a feather, I dove from the high ledge towards the ground below. Curling up into a ball in the air, I flipped and landing upright onto my feet on the ground. I stopped, and listened.
I could still hear my dad in the place where I’d found him earlier. I had been searching for hours, lying in my bed with my eyes closed, when I found my dad sitting in a nearby hotel.
Turning myself to the direction of the hotel, I ran. The world passed by me in a blur of lights and color streaking through the black of night. Stopping in front of the large hotel building I listened again. I looked up to a window on the thirst floor.
Walking into hotel like I belonged there, I proceeded to the stairwell. After climbing three flights of stairs, I stopped and listened again. Walking down the hall toward the room my dad I knew my dad was in, I stood outside the door and knocked.
The door opened slowly and there he stood, with his eyes wide. “Emily?” he said.
“Dad.” I said. “Can I come in?”
He looked past me and moved out of the doorway, gesturing for me to enter. He closed the door behind us.
“Why are you still in Hollywood?” I asked, pacing back and forth in the room.
“I’ve been doing everything I can to try to get you back.” he said.
I stopped pacing and faced him. “I’m sorry dad,” I said, “for putting you through this.”
“Will you come home?” he asked, reaching towards me with one hand. Stepping closer, I let him wrap his arm around me. Putting my arms around him I hugged him back. He pulled back and looked into my eyes.
“I can’t.” I said.
“Emily.” he said, “You can. You have nothing to worry about. If it’s shame, or guilt…”
“I have to go back.” I said, interrupting.
“Why?” he asked.
“I gave my word to Vidar,” I said, “that I would come back for him.”
He held out his hands to his sides, like he was confused. “Emily,” he said, “you need to come home.”
“For what?” I said. “I love you dad, but I
know
I hurt Peter, badly.”
He looked down at the floor and said “It is true. He’s very hurt. He’s gone back to live with his parents. It will just be me, you, and George at home. Come home, for me.”
I thought of my fluffy orange cat, George. I missed him terribly. I missed my dad, and my mom. The image of all of them was quickly overshadowed by the memory of Vidar looking at me through the bars.
“If you are worried that The Corrupt are going to use me, don’t.” I said, pacing again across the room. “I have this handled.”
“Emily.” he said. “I think that’s what you thought when you left to trade yourself in for your mom. How did that work out for you?”
I froze, and my shoulders stiffened. Marching towards him, I stopped just inches from his face. “You call yourselves The Pure.” I said, in a low voice. “Yet what do
you do about the evil that goes on this world, except stand by and watch?”
I put my finger on his chest and said “Someday, it might be you sitting in a dark cell for a hundred years. I wonder how you’d feel about how pure your people are after they leave you there and forget about you.”
Walking over to the door I put my hand on the knob. He put his hand over my wrist, to stop me. “Emily.” he said.
“Dad.” I said, turning my head and looking into his eyes.
“I love you Emily.” he said. “Please don’t go.”
“I love you too, dad.” I said. “But you have to let me go.”
I waited for him to remove his hand, and he finally pulled away. He stepped back and looked at me with sad eyes.
“I will be here, Emily, waiting for you.” he said.
“Go home.” I said, and then darted out the door.
Sneaking back into my room just in time, Muriel entered to tell me that I was going to a party. It was at the mansion of the actor that I had met on my first night with The Corrupt. His name was Johnny. As I stepped through the front door, all eyes turned to me. I hadn’t lost my touch.
Stepping through the crowds, I mingled and socialized until I stopped right next to Johnny. “You have an amazing house, and you look absolutely stunning.” I said, repeating his line from the first time I’d met him.
Johnny tilted his head back and laughed. “Em.” he said, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m honored by your presence.”
He pulled back and grabbed a drink from a passing tray. He turned and placed the drink into my hands. “Thank you.” I said.
He began walking, and I followed him into another room full of fast music and dancing people. I looked into the dancing crowd as I approached with the drink in my hand, instinctively scanning for Tim’s face. He wasn’t there, of course.
Stopping just before the dancing crowd the memory of my last moments with Tim flashed through my mind. “I love you, Em.” he said. It echoed in my mind. It sent waves of emotion that I felt tingling through my arms and legs and settled in the pit of my stomach.
I felt sick. It was all my fault. We both knew from the beginning that we were in too deep. Our love was dangerous, but we went ahead and let it happen. Now he was gone.
I became aware of Johnny standing next to me. After drinking down half of my drink I then looked over at him and smiled. “Will you dance with me?” he asked.
Placing my drink on a side table I took Johnny’s hand. He pulled me into the crowd and began moving to the music with his hands on my hips.
With my hands raised in the air, I let the music move through my body. As the music became a part of me along with the buzzing of the alcohol, I had an idea. It may have been a drunk idea, but it was perfect. It would take time, and careful planning. There was a risk of losing myself again, and the risk of failure - but I had to try.
Staying with the crowd, I became a part of it and then rose above it. Dancing on a platform, I coaxed the crowd into move with the music along with me. Time slowed down as I threw my back my head with my eyes closed.
The music became single notes, hanging in the air. The emotion of every note moved through my body and guided it towards its destination. I looked down upon the crowd and saw that they had entered the trance that I’d guided them to.
The next day I was invited to more parties. I attended them all, night after night, sometimes moving from one party to another. I was a party goddess.
I wore the dresses and the hair, playing the full part of the party queen. Muriel and her minions suspected nothing.
Muriel stood at the side of my bed, looking upon me with both suspicion and pride. I was glad that she still didn’t trust me. It was her offering of blood that I feared the most.
“Muriel.” I said, rubbing my eyes and sitting up in my bed. “Have you forgiven me yet?”
“No.” she said, coldly. “But I do still like you. You sure do know how to party.”
I smiled. I felt relief, but didn’t show it. I had learned to cover the emotions I’d felt inside.
“Your time in prison has hardened you, Emily.” she said, studying my face.
“I have fun with the mortals and all,” I said, ignoring her comment, “but I have to wonder what a party with immortals is like. Do your kind even know how to have fun?”