Tomorrows Child (23 page)

It was so cold,
the darkness so dense, so black. Perhaps this was the space between
life and death where we wait for the light to find us so we can
finally go home. Or perhaps we wander here for eternity.

Warm hands held
me. There was movement. Still so cold, so black, the silence, like
death’s knell, ringing in my ears.

Stillness
again. Nothing, not sound, nor light, nor smell… just cold, I still
felt cold. Even my heart could feel the cold and sense the
nothingness. But wait, my awareness to the cold - surely that
accounted for something?

At least death
was peaceful, easy. It required no effort, no choices and no
regrets. I felt no loss and no sorrow. The cold, though, was
overwhelming.

Time passed.
There were moments when the cold was all that there was; but then
there were times when even the cold ceased to exist. Then the cold
would return again and then nothing. Time passed, I knew that.

Yet, was time
even relevant, here in this space between life and death?

“Psyche,
Psyche? Are you with us yet?”

I heard my
name. That first sound. Like the first flower of spring. I welcomed
the sweetness. I knew she would come for me. My dead mother would
not leave me here forever; she couldn’t leave me here.

“Psyche?”

Slowly, I
became aware of my surroundings, the softness… the warm hands that
held my hand… the voices… not one but many… No, not my mother,
Libby’s voice calling my name.

“Psyche,
honey.”

My eyes
wouldn’t open, couldn’t open, I tried… the darkness was gone. I
could see the filtering of light, a small pink glow through my
eyelids. Still, they wouldn’t open. I tried to speak. I moved, I
know I did… something moved, some part of me moved and I felt the
softness of fabric.

“Psyche, please
wake up.”

This was not
Libby, it was Phoenix. Was I truly dead? Now I wasn’t sure. I
forced my eyes to obey, I saw them both standing beside my bed,
holding my hand. Libby, Phoenix, Tahinah and Abigail were all
looking down at me with expectant eyes and something else… fear
maybe, sadness probably…

“Phoenix,
please bring some water,” someone spoke.

Not dead… the
dead don’t drink… don’t need… I’m not dead… I’m not dead!

“Libby,” that
was my voice, weak and gravelly. “I’m not dead?” It was both a
statement and a question.

“No, sweetie,
you’re not dead,” I heard relief in Libby’s voice. Firm hands
helped me sit up against pillows propped high behind me. Someone
helped me drink. The light was coming fast and my eyes began to
focus. I could see now. I was alive.

~~~~

Pepper nuzzled
my hand and nibbled the tips of my fingers. He no longer scuttled
across the floor like he did when I first found him in the forest.
Now he stood knee-high and was able to rest his head on my bed. His
body had filled out and he looked more like a dragon than ever. His
skin glistened and was smooth like snakeskin and a row of bubbles
had formed along the sides of his back and the top of his tail.
Expression sparkled in his eyes and I wondered if he knew what
happened during the weeks I was missing.

The threat of
becoming a fire-breathing dragon lessened as each day passed. He
still had smoky breath. The earthy smell of spiced timber lingered
in the air, even though he seldom coughed smoke in the house
anymore. Weeks ago, he had moved out of the house and was now
living with the hens in the chicken coop. It turns out he was there
the day I searched for him in the forest and thought he was lost. I
don’t know why he preferred the company of hens. He didn’t eat them
or their eggs; he just snuggled in beside them and went to
sleep.

The next few
days passed. Sleeping, dreaming, waking and sleeping more. I grew
stronger but no one spoke about what happened. For a while, I
wasn’t even sure. The memories were like ghosts on the edges of my
mind, shadows of thought, just out of reach, but I knew they were
there.

While I was
recovering, Libby brought me tea, bitter and strong. Clover and
nettle to cleanse my blood and fortify my heart; willow to help
with the pain; hops to help me sleep and whatever else Libby saw
fit to include.

Libby entered
my room with another mug of steaming bitter tea.

“I’m feeling
much better now, perhaps regular tea or coffee would be nice.” I
stood up to get out of bed, still dizzy, but feeling more alive
than I had in days. “I would really like to get up and not sleep
all day today.”

“Better not
drink this tea then. Tahinah and Phoenix will be over shortly to
look in on you. They will be pleased to see you up and about.”
Libby took the tea and let me walk unaided to the kitchen. Libby
and Phoenix always assisted my short trips from the bed. I still
felt lightheaded and weak, but knew I could manage this alone.

Libby set a mug
of sweet, milky coffee in front of me. The first sip was heavenly,
but the next hit my empty stomach and made me feel sick. “I think I
need food.”

“Of course you
do. It’s been days since you had a meal. I’ve made a pot of my
mother’s “Wellness Soup”… Unless there is something else you’d
like?”

Libby’s
“Wellness Soup” was legendary. Mostly, it was just chicken and
vegetables, but she claimed there was a little magick and a lot of
love in each spoonful. She would simmer an old hen for hours to
make the stock; then add vegetables and herbs at just the right
time to capture the goodness. The soup was stirred in the direction
of the rising sun and wasn’t allowed to boil lest “the goodness”
escape with the steam.

Tahinah arrived
while my soup was cooling. She hugged me tightly, quite relieved to
see me up and about. Phoenix came just as I finished my soup. Both
were courteous and cautious with their words and carefully spoke
about everything except what had happened to me.

“I thought I
was dead.” I commented between “The peas are coming along fine” and
“The wheat looks to be our best harvest ever.”

“I mean I
really thought I was dead, not, I thought I was going to die. I
thought I had already died.” It was all I could think about now
that I was awake, “but I can’t remember anything else.” Tears
filled in my eyes as I spoke and told them what I could remember,
which didn’t amount to much, and they told me what they knew.

Phoenix said he
tried to find me in my dreams, while Libby had been using all her
gifts, searching for some sign of me. Ruben and Navarre had tried
to track me through the forest; but my trail went cold about a
hundred metres from the house. Libby had spoken to her guides and
called on my mother, but received nothing to direct her to my
whereabouts.

“It was like
you never existed.” Libby was shaking her head. “I’ve never felt
the absence of someone so strongly.”

“I tried
scrying,” Tahinah said as she pointed to a map on the table; “but
the pendulum was erratic. It just kept swinging, confused. And then
Phoenix felt you in his dreams.”

“It was just a
slight flicker, everything was dark and cold. Not really a dream at
all, just a hint of consciousness.” Phoenix looked pale as he tried
to recount his dream and his eyes glistened with tears, “I thought
you were dying and worried we would be too late.”

“That was all
we needed, just a flicker of life. By the time Phoenix arrived to
tell me you were alive, I already knew where to look,” said
Libby.

“It all
happened so fast, but you were so far away, only about twenty
kilometres by the old road, but way too far by foot. Seth and
Lachlan took the Jeep with Ruben and Phoenix. They arrived back
here just after dawn.”

“How long have
I been gone?”

“Four
weeks.”

“Four weeks!
You have got to be kidding.” I remembered one or two days at the
most. “No. No, it’s just not possible! That would be crazy. I
remember the room I was in was really cold and dark and I couldn’t
really see any light so I never knew if it was day or night; but it
couldn’t have been more than a day or two - a week at most.”

I tried to
think, to remember, but my head hurt and a wave of nausea rushed
over me. Then I had a flashback and remembered the rosy bruises on
my wrists; but they were now a series of wounds in various stages
of healing. Not one scar but many, five on my left wrist and too
many to count on my right, bright pink and puckered. I pressed
lightly on the scabby skin and winced at the pain.

“Tell us what
you remember, Psyche.” Phoenix took my hand in his and kissed my
palm, turning it over, so the marks were no longer visible.

I told them
about Volante and Caitlyn. I told them everything I could remember
and then I told them about the blood.

“My God,
Psyche, you are so lucky to be alive! It sounds like a nightmare.”
Tahinah was shaking her head in disbelief. “Libby, can you believe
this?”

“Unfortunately,
I can.” Libby wasn’t as horrified as everyone else. “That woman was
always a bitch. She manipulated everyone and anyone to get what she
wanted, but this is going to another level altogether. What I don’t
get is what she wants with Psyche.” Libby was looking for answers I
didn’t have.

“I have known
Volante for a long time, but she left the area about ten years
ago,” Libby continued. “I didn’t expect to see her again, and until
that day at the markets, I didn’t think I would. She spoke to you
there. Remember?” I met many people that day, but I don’t remember
Volante.

“She was the
town’s trouble maker, little things really. Broke up a couple of
marriages, spread gossip, and lied about almost everything, but she
was really nothing more than a stupid troublemaker. I knew she was
into magick and hung out with the new age crowd for awhile. She
went to workshops and took classes, however, I never really knew
what she was up to, but I sensed she was hiding something.”

“It seems as if
she has come a long way from being a bitch and a troublemaker to
draining the blood from a young girl until she is near death,”
Tahinah interjected.

“Maybe not so
far,” Libby said. “She could drain the energy of a room faster than
anyone I ever met, but not everyone is aware that they are doing
it. As far as I know, she didn’t seem aware of it at all. However,
she has Romanian ancestry and claims her grandmother was a gifted
fortune-teller. There’s a Romanian legend about vampires and
witches. Romania is the ancestral home of the vampire and has a
long history of witchcraft. The legend is about children born to a
vampire and a human. The woman practiced witchcraft and everyone
suspected her children did also.”

“So you think
she’s actually from this line of vampire witches?” I asked,
incredulously.

“Maybe, but I
am sure there are many similar stories and people like Volante are
not as rare as you might think,” Libby replied.

“But she didn’t
have fangs, she didn’t bite me; she cut me with a blade.” I knew
there was much more to remember and more to know, so I waited for
Libby to speak.

“That may
simply be the result of a diluted gene pool. The theory is that
‘real vampires’ once had the attributes we know from myth and
legend, but as time passed, they evolved and things like fangs
became less obvious. Many of the legends claim that vampires and
humans can’t have children. But perhaps the vampire is simply a
race of humans, rather than a different species or even the living
dead.”

“There’s been a
vampire subculture for years, even centuries,” said Phoenix. “Most
are found in the cities where people can live any lifestyle they
choose and go unnoticed, but it’s nothing like the movies. As far
as I know, very few bodies are found in the city alleys, drained of
blood. It’s more a voluntary thing. Sanguine vampires take blood;
while psi or psychic vampires take energy or life force. Some take
both. But it’s usually by mutual agreement, and a symbiotic
thing.”

“Phoenix is
right. It’s not as unusual as you might think. If you watch people
long enough, you’ll often see one person sucking the energy from
others in a room,” said Libby.

“You can
actually see the energy flow from one person to another. The
victim’s auras grow dim while the aura of the person sucking the
energy grows stronger. I think the general population are unaware
of this. Sometimes even the psychic vampire is unaware,” Libby
added. “Which really just supports my theory: vampires were simply
another race and the vampire/human offspring are equally
distributed throughout society and as common as mud.”

“It still
doesn’t explain why she wanted Psyche.” Phoenix was angry and held
my hand so tightly, my fingers were turning white. “But if she
thinks Psyche is dead, then maybe the attacks will stop.”

“If she is
truly a witch, then magick might explain the hellhound attacks, but
it still doesn’t tell us why,” Libby answered.

“She told me my
magick was weak and that I was a disappointment.” I hated thinking
about Volante and what she had done to me, but I knew it was
important, “She said she had expected so much more. She tried to
take my energy first. She said it was all she really needed, but
when she couldn’t do that… well, that’s when she cut me.”

“Well, we could
discuss this all day and still not know why she did any of this,
but Psyche needs her rest.” I felt as if I were being dismissed,
“Phoenix, please see that Psyche gets some rest.” Now I was sure we
were being dismissed.

Phoenix
followed me to my room I was glad to be finished with Volante. I
needed some time with Phoenix.

“I must be the
only nineteen-year-old ordered to go to my girlfriend’s room.”

“Did you feel
like we were being dismissed too?”

“It was pretty
obvious. Libby must want to discuss it with Tahinah. I do agree
with her though; you do need some rest.”