Renhala (38 page)

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Authors: Amy Joy Lutchen

Tags: #Fantasy, #Romance, #Paranormal, #Action

BOOK: Renhala
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“Oooh. Are you sure? I really probably shouldn
’t.” But I am already at the sword, feeling the grip. It’s much lighter than I imagined. Both Gunthreon and Ladimer are stiff as boards, watching me with deep intensity. “Don’t worry, you two. I’m fine,” I say. Thoughts of battle roll around inside my head, and visions of triumph and waving flags appear before me. Before I know it, I’m slicing the air around me inside my limited-space apartment. Ladimer is suddenly at my back, grabbing my arms. Conner steps forward, quickly, grabbing Ladimer’s arm. Kioto growls at both of them as she comes to my side.

“I wouldn
’t do that,” Ladimer advises, looking at Conner’s hand. “I’m simply protecting
our
Kailey from herself.” Kioto continues to growl, her haunches ready to jump at anyone who attempts to do me harm.

Conner says, “I think you do more endangering than protecting,” as he releases his hand and soulspeaks to Kioto. Gunthreon takes the sword from my hand. But once my hands are free, I slap Gunthreon in the face. Both Conner and Ladimer
’s jaws drop. Kioto’s growling stops and her ears rise.

The speed with which Lupa moves would rival my mom, but Gunthreon tells her to sit. He wipes his face w
here I slapped him. “Foolish me,” he says, “I should have seen something like that coming, considering the situation. Evidently, you cannot handle this yet.” Evlengard ends up back in the everything pack. “Let’s take a try at the pendulum. It’s most likely safer.” He picks up the pendulum and holds it above his opposite hand. “This is known as the Hand of Wohmin.” The pendulum starts swirling around in an even circle, picking up speed. His eyes are closed, and he smiles.

“What did yo
u ask it?” I ask. His eyelids flutter before they open, and I see a sort of haze over his eyes, almost like cataract film. “Ewww.” He briefly shakes his head, and his eyes clear.

“Wow.” Gunthreon still smiles. “I didn
’t ask it anything. It just showed me something—something rather pleasant. Hmm.”

“What?”

“None of your business, that’s what.”

It
’s clear I won’t be finding that out. “Alrighty, then,” I say. “Can I have another try?”

Gunthreon thinks about my question, then must feel that it
’s safe enough, because he puts it in the palm of my hand. “It was given to you after all, not me,” he says. “It is now yours, Kailey, and it seems harmless enough.”

Once I grasp the pendulum, I feel a movement in my hand,
something resembling a snake slithering. I drop the pendulum immediately. “It does move!”

“Yes, that
’s what pendulums do.”

“No, this was different.”

Gunthreon smirks. “It’s a different pendulum, now, isn’t it?”

I grab the chain, and, again, there is instant movement. It feels as though the pendulum is reaching toward the map, pulling me to stand directly over it.

Ladimer comes to stand next to me. “Ha,” he blurts.

My hand moves slowly over the map in the direction the pendulum pulls. It finds a location in what Gunthreon and Ladimer state is only vast prairie, which appears to be surrounded by lakes. The only land access to this area seems to be an area to the west, called Glamor Glen.

The pendulum focuses on the prairieland and keeps circling, until it circles so fast I drop it. “Why is it pointing here?” I say.

Ladimer grunts l
oudly. “Don’t know,” he says. “And if Gunthreon plans on going there, I’m out.”

My confusion must cover my whole face, because Lupa whispers “Pixies” in my ear as she points to Glamor Glen. “Oh.” I understand Ladimer
’s hesitance. “You know, the only way to get past a fear is to face it head-on.” 

Ladimer rolls his eyes at me.

Gunthreon says, “We must go where we must, Ladimer.”

“There
’s nothing there! It’s practically lifeless. I know this from experience,” Ladimer hesitates, “for I’ve sent many a traitor there, to fend for their pathetic lives.” Lupa frowns as Ladimer’s face suddenly looks aged. “And there’s definitely no need to travel through Glamor Glen,” he says.

“Of course he refuses continuing where our mission takes us,” says Conner, angrily. “Not because of putting others at risk, but because of his own selfish pride. Or
maybe
it’s an informant’s move.” Ladimer moves quickly and grabs Conner by the front of his shirt.

Suddenly, my cell phone starts ringing.
I see that it’s Amber, but being such an inopportune time, I can’t answer the phone, so I mute the ring and place it on my table. It then vibrates,
loudly
.

Conner only stares
back into Ladimer’s face, willing him to make a move. After an eternity, Ladimer slowly lets go of his shirt, wiping away the creases, as he says to Conner, “Spoken by another, who, also, has never met a pixie.”

“I
’ve heard tales,” retorts Conner, defiantly.

Ladimer laughs, and says, “Tales, tales, tales. Until you become one of those stories, you have no room to speak! So step back off your high horse, youngling.” He hesitates. “And soulspeak would just be the perfect tool for someone needing to relay information, wouldn
’t it? They would know without a doubt that you weren’t deceiving them, the deceivers.” Ladimer’s eyes penetrate Conner.

Gunthreon jumps in and s
naps, “Calm down, both of you! You will stop insulting each other, now. Focus on something else besides belittling each other. Do you need to be put in separate corners?” Gunthreon stands between them, examining each of their faces. They both walk away in opposite directions. 

Bu and Jenna sit on the floor—Bu petting Cheeto, and Jenna petting Kioto. They both stroke with nervous hands, simultaneously.

Since the first mention of pixies I’ve imagined cute little images of Tinkerbell and her friends fluttering around my head. Ladimer and Conner, in my opinion, clearly want to fight over
anything—
for when near each other their energies flare. I break the tension for everyone by saying, “Are they like the size of Jenna here, or smaller?”  I say, leaning toward Gunthreon with my question because I’ll only get some smartass comment from Ladimer. 

“They are anything they want to be,” says Gunthreon. “Whatever will get them what they want, when they want it, is what they will be.”

“So they’re shapeshifters?”

“I suppose, except they are always women—female to the bone.”

“Any way we can hold off traveling for another day?” I ask. “I understand the importance of finding Neda and Velopa, but we all must keep a grasp on our sanity. We need a break—even just a short one.”

Gunthreon scouts the room and sees the hunkered shoulders and weary eyes. “Your place is a
bit small for all of us,” he responds. “I must ask you all to come to Spirit Cave. Consider it a mini-vacation. You can even bring Cheeto, Kailey.”

I grin ear-to-ear. “You
’re on! I’ve got to pack again. Lupa, need anything?” She just shakes her everything pack at me. I then look to Gunthreon. “You live at the bar? There must be more to the building than I’ve seen?”

Lupa smiles at Gunthreon as she replies to me. “Oh, you have no idea.” 

“Better hurry up, then, because Fidello has returned and is waiting downstairs.” Gunthreon picks up his pack, ready to leave.


How
do you do that?”

Ladimer peeks out the window. “Let me run and grab some stuff, too. I
’ll be back in a flash,” he says.  

“Kailey, the invitation extends to your mother, too, if she wants to com
e—and Kioto,” says Gunthreon. Kioto turns to him as she hears her name and wags her tail. Gunthreon gets up and gives her a biscuit from her treat container.   

“I
’ll call my mom later, because I know she’s gotta be resting now,” I say. “Thanks, G.”

Bu and Jenna stand side-by-side, resembling lost puppy dogs—mastiff on steroids and
a litter runt Chihuahua. Gunthreon laughs. “You’ll be going too.”

Bu starts dancing about. “Yeah! Bu can
’t wait to see SharkBoy!”

“I don
’t even want to ask about that one,” I say.               

Lupa laughs in Gunthreon
’s direction. “One of his
many
strays,” she says. They both laugh together and then it hits me.

“Hey!” They laugh even harder, for a bit too long.

Chapter 47

Shocking

             

 

Getting Bu out of my apartment without anyone noticing turns out not to be as easy as I thought. Bu really wants to travel via limo, so we throw an extra-large comforter over him. Ladimer’s foster mom opens her door right as Bu walks out of my apartment, but she quickly slams it shut. As I run with Bu, hippie neighbor, carrying his Wild Oats groceries, walks from his car with his mouth agape, tripping over the one step to the front door. Thank the Higher Ones he only shakes his head and continues inside. I shove Bu into the limo, then Gunthreon and Lupa slip in. 

Conner comes running with Kioto and Cheeto. Kioto pants heavily, knowing with her animal senses that she’s going on a trip in a way unnatural for animals—a motorized vehicle. Cheeto, wearing a pillow case with hol
es cut out for her legs and eyes, spots Kioto’s anxiety and sits outside the limo, becoming dead weight as I attempt to lift her into the car.

Ladimer comes bounding back from his apartment with a small backpack and allows me to struggle with Cheeto as he watches. “Bit off more than you can chew with
that one, eh?” he says.

I finally shove her inside, then stick my tongue out at Ladimer.

Once we’re all inside the limo, Jenna crawls out from underneath Bu’s comforter so she can peek out the tinted windows. As we pull away, however, she hunkers down and grips onto my pants leg for dear life. Her greenish hue as we drive away makes me break that grip, however; I’d rather her not puke on me.

“Jenna, look out
the window at the horizon,” I advise. “If you only sit on the floor, you will definitely throw up. Here, just in case.” I hand her a plastic grocery bag as I smile to myself, finally justifying five years of carrying one in my purse “just in case.”

“How can this thing move? There
’s no aura! It’s not alive.” Jenna grumbles. She’s on the brink of barfing, but manages to sneak the words out.

Gunthreon holds back a laugh. “It
’s called a car, and more specifically, a limousine. It runs on slightly-altered natural resources. My driver’s name is Fidello.” Fidello, almost on cue, lowers the divider, and I see his eyes in the rearview mirror. 

“Nice to meet you
,” he says. “Got enough room, big guy?” This is clearly directed at Bu.

In a shy voice, Bu
answers, “Yes, thank you, sir.” Fidello nods and rolls the window back up.

Bu leans over to me and, very quietly, whispers, “He
’s a namakon.”

“A who?”

“Fidello is a namakon,” says Gunthreon. “N-A-M-A-K-O-N.” I sound it out as I see the letters appear in my head. “Namakons have a unique gift, which Fidello was willing to share with me. I saved his life and, for this, he has bonded to me as a, well, servant type.”

“That doesn
’t sound like a pleasant life,” I say.

Gunthreon holds up his hand and shakes it, brushing me off. “It’s what he’s born to do. A namakon
’s talent allows him to bond, mind to mind, with one other creature. All thoughts are exchanged between the two, making them wonderful adversaries.”

“Or prying menaces.” Lupa folds her arms, clearly uncomfortable with Fidello’s ability.

“Honey, we have been through this three thousand times—at least,” sputters Gunthreon. “You know damn well that Fidello has come to my aid many a time, and many a time returned the favor of saving my life. I am still here because of that fellow.”

Lupa knows she has struck a sore spot, so she warmly smiles and holds Gunthreon
’s hand. “I’m just cranky and tired,” says Lupa. “A good night’s sleep will cure everything.” She pinches his thigh, and Gunthreon pushes her hand away, as if it tickled.

“We are
all
going to enjoy a good night’s sleep,” I say. The motion of the moving car knocks me out in a minute flat, as I slump over on Conner’s shoulder.

 

*********

             
             

When I wake up, it
’s to the sensation of being carried. I fear that I’ve traveled and landed in some compromising position, but when I quickly open my eyes, I find Bu cradling me like a child. I stick my thumb in my mouth and “wah” like a baby. “Kailey, you silly!” Bu laughs, and it’s a more mature laugh than I remember. Bu places me down on my feet gently past the back door of Spirit Cave, runs inside, and then disappears through the kitchen door.

Lupa heads in after him. “Gunthreo
n, your fridge stocked?” she queries as she opens the ceiling-height refrigerator door. “Pizza it is!” She frowns and closes the door.

“I thought we we
re going to be gone longer,” responds Gunthreon. “And I was not expecting company.”

I offer to call in the pizza, and Gunthreon says, “Be my guest.”

I play waitress and take everyone’s order on a notepad, and make sure that I remember Bu’s request for extra anchovies. He’ll be getting his own special pizza, for sure. But before I dial the number, I notice another missed call from Amber. Right as I’m about to return her call, I see Jenna just sitting on the ground, playing with her necklace, oblivious to what is going on around her. The sadness emanating from her immediately saddens me.

I sit down next to her on the floor. “What
’s up?”

“It
’s just that I miss Renhala already, mostly the forests,” she whimpers. “It’s too noisy here. There’s this constant buzzing in the air, and I can’t hear the trees. Don’t you hear it?”

I hear the hustle and bustle of Chinatown through the closed windows around me, but nothing that resembles buzzing.

Downheartedly, she says, “It’s just different, that’s all.”

Fiddling with my phone, I feel her pain in some strange way. “I have an idea,” I say. “Would you like to call in the food order?”

She brightens up and grabs the phone from me. “What do I do?” I show her the numbers to press, and place the notebook in front of her, adding Gunthreon’s phone number. She dials, starts to breathe quicker with each ring, and practically drops the phone in her lap when they answer and speak to her. I pull in close to her to hear the conversation. “Uhhh,” she slurs. I tap on the notebook. “Oh yeah. I would like to order... ” she says, looking confused, so I mouth the word “pizzas” to her. “...pizzas?”

“What?” says the barely-sixteen boy who answered the phone.  

Jenna furrows her brow, then speaks again, a bit louder. “Pizzas. I want to order some.”

The boy on the line fumbles the phone and I hear, “Dude, I don
’t know what this person’s saying—speaking alien, again, or Polish. Maybe Chinese. Steve, you take it. ”

We hear Steve on the other end, “Hello?”

Jenna tries again, but a bit perturbed. “Pizzas! Can I get ‘em?”

“Yes, of course. What would you like,” Steve says.

She then rattles off the order, adding her own request of fried gundworms (which they don’t seem to have today) and says, “Bye.” She passes the phone to me, and I show her how to press the “end” button. Her eyes wide, she’s junkie Jenna again, which, by me, is much better than sad Jenna.

Gunthreon gives me the tour of his apartment, and it is absolutely stunning, as though he hired the world
’s top interior designers. Every item is unique in its own way, holding some special secret.

“Wow. Can I hire you?” I ask
. “Give me the friends and family deal.” He just smiles at me.

I spy Conner standing in the corner, staring in a mirror. He is motionless, and it
’s kind of creepy. Ladimer walks over to him and pulls him away by the back of the neck. Conner shakes his head, and “What the hell?” escapes his mouth. I stare from afar at the mirror, wondering what he could possibly have seen.

“There is many an item here that will pull you from your reality, but n
othing dangerous,” Gunthreon states, unpacking his bags. “Go ahead, Kailey,” he says, knowingly.

I turn to Conner, who is puzzled, but intrigued. “Go ahead. Nothing bad,” he says.

So I stand before the mirror, staring at myself. Nothing happens. But just as I’m about to turn away, everything behind me disappears, and instead of me in the mirror, I see my mom. She is beautiful, standing before me in my clothes, and as I move, she moves, mimicking each smile, each frown, each raspberry. “How?” I don’t dare turn from the figure just yet. But within seconds, the figure is no longer my mom, but a male figure with red hair like my own. My mouth drops and I suddenly see Gunthreon standing next to me. 

“That
’s enough. The pizza is here.”

“Was that—?”

“Yes.”

“How can that mirror do that?” 

Gunthreon laughs. “Magic, of course.”

The image won
’t escape my mind as I keep thinking about the male face in the mirror staring back at me, and how closely his mouth and nose resembled my own. I am tempted to go back and look in the mirror, but Gunthreon reads my mind.

“It will only show your true lineage once,” he says. “If you look again, it will only be your beautiful face staring back.”

But I can’t help trying again. As I walk by to grab a slice of pizza, I stop before the mirror and stare, but alas, I see nothing but myself, just like Gunthreon said. “Conner,” I say as I pass him. “did you see your parents, too?”

“Yeah. Kind of freaky, huh?”

I shrug. “Where did you get that mirror, Gunthreon?”

He frowns and says, sadly, “One of my many conquests way back when.” His head tilts toward Jenna, and I realize what he
’s trying to get across to me.

“So
where did Bu run off to?” I ask, quickly changing the subject. “He’s got to be as hungry as I am, or more so. I’m surprised he hasn’t smelled it already.”

Lupa, with her mouth full of gooey cheese and vegetables, says, with her finger pointed, “You
’ll find Bu down that hall, through the door on the right. It will have an aquarium scene carved into it, and beautiful work, I must say.” She keeps chewing, drooling a bit out of the left side of her mouth, but she catches it skillfully with her napkin.

“SharkBoy?”

A nod is all I get as she gulps her fruit punch.

“Do you mind if I come, too?” Conner
’s plate is already empty, and he stands with his hands in his pockets, looking cute and innocent.

I can
’t help but allow him to follow. “Sure.” Jenna doesn’t even know what’s going on around her—her pizza is untouched—because she’s still playing with my phone. My cell phone bill will definitely be checked with more gusto come next month, because I wouldn’t be surprised to find a cross-country call to 123-456-7890. “Jenna, call this number and ask my mom if she wants to come over and hang with us.” I write down her number and slide the paper in front of her.

I pile on my plate two more pieces of pizza then go grab a few anchovy pieces for Bu. I decide to put his in a plastic Ziploc I found on the counter because I don’t want any of his anchovies touching any bit of my pizza. Conner grabs one more piece for the road as I shove the baggie in my pocket.

As we walk, Conner clears his throat. “You know, the stupid bickering we’ve been doing is going nowhere. Let’s start from scratch.” The apology—or at least that’s how I’m taking his words—releases tension in my shoulders that I didn’t even realize I was carrying until now.

My pizza balances nicely on my hand as I extend my other to shake. “Nice to meet you. I
’m Kailey,” I state. Conner shakes firmly, and I feel that familiar static electricity dart through my hand. “Stop with that, though.”

“Honestly, I
’m not doing that. It must be you.”

“Uh, no. I don
’t do that. Maybe if you’d pick your feet up more when you walk.” Our walk slows down as our voices get louder.

“I
’ve never done that with anyone,” sputters Conner. “You’re the one with the hidden powers after all, remember? Maybe you’re like ‘Super Shock,’ the superhero, or something. No, better yet—‘Karmelean: your personal defibrillator.’ Yeah!” He laughs at his own joke, but stops quickly as his pizza slides down the front of his shirt.

“No need to reheat later, Sparky McGee!” I prance well ahead of him and find the door Lupa mentioned. The workmanship is indeed superb, giving each sea creature a life of its own, suspended in wood.    

“Wow.” Some of the pizza sauce still lingers on his shirt. “This is a hundred-dollar shirt, you know,” he whines. He speaks without taking his eyes off the door.

“Looks like you got robbed,” I say.

Just as he is about to return the fire, a low-pitch rumbling noise leaks from beyond the door. We look to each other and both grab the doorknob. The shock from that simple touch sends an electrical current up the door, which reaches out to each fish and anemone carved into it. For a brief three seconds, the creatures are alive, swimming to and fro across the door.

But as quickly as their lives began, they freeze and are once again carved into the door where they last swam.

“Beats the Shedd Aquarium any day!” says Conner. He turns the knob and opens the door ever so slowly, revealing the room beyond, foot by magnificent foot.

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