Tearing The Shroud (16 page)

‘I could refuse?’

‘Of course, and another would be revealed, somehow. However, the texts appear to reflect your arrival, and my dreams have never been incorrect.’ Sadness entered her voice. ‘Not even when I wished they were.’

Sari eased the moment. ‘They led us to you, didn’t they? At the exact place and time needed.’

‘This Companion you spoke of, where is he? Or she?’

‘I told you I had communicated with those across the Shroud.’

He saw where this was going.

‘I have tried to send warnings to those who might hear, but I also communed with the Companion. Only with a champion from the Realm and the land beyond the Shroud can the Tearer be opposed and, hopefully, defeated.’

‘How did he take this news?’ Coleman raised an eyebrow.

She sipped her tea, and sighed. ‘I don’t know.’ She held up her hand. ‘Let me explain.’

During the time since the ritual, she had recovered her memories of the event. She told them what had happened in detail, from the moment she sat, to seeing the room fade as she lost consciousness.

‘It sounds like he responded thoughtfully,’ Coleman said. ‘I assume since you were led to him as you were to me, that he’s somehow able. But is he truly willing?’

Sari noticed the tenor of his voice. ‘Have you decided to do this?’

He stood and walked to the window, looking at the luscious gardens he had strolled with Jolie earlier. The sunlight had shifted, bringing a completely different beauty to them. He stood for a long while.
A little time, and a slight move in perspective can change the whole of what you saw.
The rightness of the cause settled on his shoulders like a mantle.

Still gazing out the window, he finally spoke, ‘How can I not? This evil threatens innocent lives and endangers the Realm. I’ve trained most of my life for the defense of these things.’ Turning back to them, he looked from woman to woman; Sari with her mouth agape, Jolie smiling and tears glistening on her cheeks, and the Matriarch with her arms crossed and head nodding.

‘So ladies, how do we go about this?’

Chapter 14

Lessons

Vincent slipped into the padded chair in his literature class and swung up the pivoting desktop.

Flea plopped down in the seat next to him. ‘Man I’m beat.’

‘If you wanna play you gotta pay.’

Flea stretched his arms overhead. ‘Hey, if ya land a night out with a
fine
woman, you take it.’

‘Even if it means driving to L.A.’

‘Yep,’ Flea grinned. ‘Even then.’

Flea getting a mid-week date;
it must be something in the October air
. The theater-like room was nearly full.

Flea yawned. ‘I filled the Celica up with gas, too.’

‘You didn’t have — ’

‘Never borrow a car and bring it back empty.’ Flea brought out a Scottish accent. ‘It’s just not cricket.’ His voice reverted to normal. ‘Hey do you have your sunglasses, the mirrored ones?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘I feel like bein’ cool.’

Vincent chuckled and took them from his backpack. Flea slipped them on, opened his notebook and got ready for the lecture. Vincent tapped his number 2 pencil on the desk, and his mind wandered to Julie.

He’d never met anyone like her. Not that he knew many girls. Why would someone so beautiful, intelligent and full of life even give him a second glance? She could have any guy on campus.
Why him?
One thing was sure. He’d better step up his game.
Or find some.
If not, someone else would come along and he’d miss his chance
.

‘Shakespeare.’ A girl behind him called out.

‘Keats,’ another voice said.

‘Byron.’

What’s going on?

The professor raised his hands. ‘All good guesses. Let me read it again.’ He started, delivering the lines with a slow, mesmerizing pace, his voice low and powerful.

“‘Thou hast ravished my heart, my sister, my spouse;

Though hast ravished my heart with one of thine eyes,

With one chain of thy neck.’”

Julie’s light brown eyes, with their almond shape, long lashes making them seem soft, floated into Vincent’s mind. The way she wore her makeup accentuating that softness. His heart danced a jig. The phantom Julie tilted her head in the way that made him tingle from his toes to hairline. Her long luscious neck arched ever so slightly. What he would give to kiss that white skin. It seemed that the words resonated in him, coming from his mind.

“‘How fair is thy love, my sister, my spouse!

How much better is thy love than wine!

And the smell of thine ointments than all spices!’”

He wanted to drink her in; to take her scent, her very self, into him.

“‘Thy lips,’”

Such amazing, full, kissable lips.

“‘Oh my spouse, drop as the honeycomb:

Honey and milk are under thy tongue.’”

To taste that honeyed tongue, to have her lips on his.

The class fell silent, leaving a space where only those words existed.

Someone chuckled nervously.

‘Wow.’ A girl fanned herself in the front row.

‘I agree.’ The prof nodded. ‘This beautiful, erotically charged passage is attributed to King Solomon as read from the
King James Bible
.’

Again, the class went so quiet Vincent could hear a car passing on the road a hundred feet outside the open door. Finally a guy’s voice broke the spell. ‘Solomon had some game!’

The students burst into laughter. The girl who had fanned herself asked, ‘Where can I find that passage?’

Vincent turned to Flea. ‘That was something huh?’

Flea sat, not laughing, unmoving, a pencil in hand touching the paper in his notebook, sound asleep behind the mirrored sunglasses.

Flea waved as they walked from the class. ‘Gotta scoot… Oh, hi Julie.’ He added as she rounded the corner.

‘What’s your hurry?’ She smiled and Vincent almost fanned himself like front-row-girl.

‘He has a nap to catch, I’m guessing,’ Vincent said.

‘Gotta get my beauty sleep.’

‘You got that right.’ His comment turned Julie’s smile into a giggle that weakened his knees. Flea hustled off and Julie slipped up next to him, planting a light kiss on his lips and twining her arm with his. It was time. His heart skipped a beat and his mouth went desert dry. ‘Why don’t we…um…take a stroll up by the business department?’ Yeah, that was him, Mr Smooth.

‘Sure, I’m done for the day, that would be great.’

Good thing Julie was forgiving
. They strolled along and the pack of students thinned to a scattered few as the last classes of the day ended. No one was around,
Go Vincent.

‘So, how was your day?’ he asked.

‘Good. I had bio lab. I don’t know what the deal is with these squealing girls, I think dissections are fun.’

Dissections? How was he gonna transfer from that to —

‘We did pigs feet.’

Feet. That was it!
‘And how are yours feeling?’

She frowned and looked up. Even that was cute. ‘My…pigs feet?’

‘No…I um…meant…how are your feet feeling.’

‘Oh.’ She shrugged. ‘Fine, why?’

He deepened his voice and tried to make it sound velvety. ‘I thought they might be tired, because you’ve been running through my mind all day.’

Her eyes widened and she burst out laughing, clutching his arm with one hand and her stomach with the other. Not the reaction he’d been hoping for. He smiled, trying to cover the fist that slammed into his gut.

‘Did you get that off
Saturday Night Live?’

‘I, um —‘

‘Oh, wait, I know. That guy from
Caddyshack.’
She patted his arm. ‘The one with the eyes…’

‘Rodney Dangerfield?’ She thought his big flirt line was Rod —

‘Yeah that’s him. You did the voice and everything!’

He tried to speak, but the weight of his failure crushed his lungs. He’d never be able to keep her interested, she’d eventually understand what a dweeb he was and get tired of him. They came to the end of the sidewalk at a large lawn overlooking the campus and ocean beyond. A really romantic spot, if he had
any idea
how to be romantic.

‘Oh, Vincent.’ She chuckled and looked over. ‘Oh…Vincent? Are you o…oh,
oh.
Vincent, you were serious.’ She stepped in front of him and put a hand on his hot cheek lifting his gaze off the ground between them. ‘Sweetie, I’m so sorry. I thought…I…well…’

‘No, you got it right. I’m a dork. A joke, and sooner or later, you’ll get it…and…’

‘And what? Walk away?’ Her voice went up. She paused and when she spoke, it was just above a whisper. ‘Do you really think I’m that shallow?’

He’d done worse than stumble around, he’d hurt her. No one would have to steal her, he’d drive her off himself. Sweat broke out on his forehead.

‘No…nonono, Julie.’ He clutched at her hands. ‘I think you’re amazing. The most wonderful girl I’ve…no…the most wonderful person, girl or guy I’ve ever met.’ His tongue was off its chain, over the fence and running down the street. ‘You’re beautiful, kind, feisty, cool, sexy, deep…not shallow…never shallow…so deep I can’t fathom you,’ she started to smile, ‘loving, kind…wait, I already said that — ’

‘It’s okay, say it again, and beautiful, that one too.’ Her eyes twinkled on top of the smile.

‘Beautiful,’ his words slowed. ‘Kind…the kindest person ever to walk the face of the earth…and intelligent…and…that’s what baffles me.’

‘What?’

‘You’re so wonderful and smart, eventually you’ll realize I don’t deserve someone like you.’ His voice trailed off near the end of the sentence, the last words barely escaping his mouth.

Her gaze held his. ‘Why don’t you, Vincent?’

‘Because I’m…’ He shrugged. ‘Me. The guy who doesn’t win, who doesn’t know what to say, who girls walk away from and — ’

‘And they were fools. Those words you used to describe me. Remember them?’

He had no idea where they came from, but he remembered. ‘Yeah.’

‘Good, because they’re exactly how I feel about you.’

He tried to look down but her eyes demanded he didn’t.

The corner of her lip twitched. ‘Except for the “I don’t deserve you” part. I’ve hoped for someone
exactly like
you. After all the frogs I’ve kissed, I’ll take a prince, thank you very much.’

‘A prince?’ Somewhere in all of this his stomach resumed its proper place, but now his heart started to soar upward.

‘Yes.’ She spoke the word slowly, her lips, those amazing lips, parted just a tiny bit. He kissed her deep and full, but after only a moment she drew back. ‘And, Vincent, if you want to be romantic…’

He really did. ‘I do.’ He nodded.

She was so close her breath caressed his cheek. ‘Just…be you.’

Him. She wanted…him.

‘Oh, and those words, they work too…’ She brushed her lips against his neck, sending a shiver down his leg. ‘And…kissing…that’s alwa — ’

He put her advice into practice.

A Tumble

‘It’s wounded. Press the attack.’

‘You can’t. The passage is too narrow, and Olaf is in the way,’ the leader said.

He looked up. ‘The ceiling’s high; maybe I can get over him.’

‘Go!’ A comrade slapped him on the back.

The Warrior ran forward and flipped into a handspring, then another, his momentum carrying him up over the Warrior in his way. Tucking into a tight ball he tumbled through the air and drove his short sword deep into the torso of the beast as he came down.’

‘Roll your tumble check,’ Knife said to Vincent.

Their desperate and dying party had fought this beast for some time. It was a gamble, but could turn the tide for them. All eyes were on him as he picked up his d20, shaking it around before tossing it to the table. The dark maroon die rolled away from him, its ivory and red numbers spinning by too fast to see and came to rest on...

‘Nineteen, plus my tumble skill, makes thirty-four.’ He looked at Knife.

Knife nodded. ‘You made it.’

‘No way — ’

Knife looked sharply at Emily, who swallowed the rest of her comment.

‘Roll your attack.’

They all watched intently as he picked up the die. When he did, there was an audible ‘click’ in his head. That feeling, it was here again, but his hands kept moving of their own accord. Everything slowed and the lights dimmed. He looked across the table at Flea. On the wall behind his head, in blazing letters, was a single word in the strange, vertical script. It resolved itself.

Tonight

The die fell from his hand and time cracked back. It tumbled along the table, bouncing off his small wooden dice container, and came to rest.

‘Twenty.’

‘Oh my gosh.’

‘God dice, I tell you.’

‘Nice.’

‘No stinkin’ way.’

Vincent looked around at his friends. They hadn’t seen what he did. How could something like that even happen? Let alone twice! Sweat trickled from his temple and he fought the urge to bolt out the door and into the night.

Knife told him, ‘Roll again to confirm your critical hit.’

He fumbled for the dice, knocking one onto the floor. ‘Sorry.’ He bent over thankful for a moment where no one could see his face.
Hang in there, Vincent. You can do this
. He grabbed the black die and sat up, tossing them to the table. ‘A sixteen plus my attack bonus makes twenty-eight.’