Underworld (Dark Passage) (17 page)

Despite the hours I slept last night I am tired. I shake
of the groggy feeling and swing up into the saddle.
The morning is half past and I need to put miles
between myself and this place. My mind drifts to
Maggie, with her blond hair swept back and her
beautiful oval face. Her eyes seemed haunted and she
looked so lost in her pale mauve seersucker shirt and
jeans when last I saw her.

There was something about her that I can’t put my
finger on. She wasn’t the type to pretend she was
anything she was not but she had an air about her like
she was someone of importance. Or at least she had
been at some time in her existence. Maggie reminded
me of a painting I had seen hanging in a museum of a
grand lady. Sitting in a chair looking off into the
distance with her wide, blue eyes, full of- worry?
What more is there to the story?

and there are trees as far as my eyes can see. The
hills rise higher with each passing hour and in the
distance I can see mountains. There is something
very unsettling about the forest today. I listened,
straining my ears to catch ghostly sounds in the
woods. The sound of branches rustling and wind
moaning through the trees was expected but I thought
I heard the distant sound of hooves galloping.

The valley is cool and pale with weird afternoon
shadows falling on the ground. I think I hear a snort
off in the distance but can’t be sure. A frown creases
my face as the scent of charred ashes is carried on a
smoky wave of heat. I stop Jast, and breathe deeply;
while turning my head to determine the origin of the
odor. It seems to be coming from all around me
which can’t be possible.

A shrill cry sounds off somewhere to the far left. It
sounds like a lost child but my heart tells me it is
something else. Things that live in this old world are
shadows of people that once existed. I had expected
to see blazing faces when I came here but have seen
only a few apparitions. It is desolate and seems to be
void of inhabitants. This is not what I expected to
find here, at the end of the world, where the dead are
said to never rest.

I ride through a narrow canyon which appears so
different than the terrain I have been through in the
past few days. It almost seems like an entryway into
someplace else. The opening starts out broad and
tapers off at the end. When I emerge from the
canyon, I am in a field that is flanked on either side
by thick timber and a mountain on the right. The
mountain looms far ahead and has a dark and
foreboding feeling about it. Guided by a feeling,
almost like a memory, I ride toward the gloomy
precipice. I don’t want to go there but it is drawing
me to it.

I ride another mile and the trees are so thick that I
have to slow my pace to get safely through them.
Then they start to thin out and I can hear the gurgling
sound of stream up ahead. Red rock stands in
contrast to the gnarled trees that line either side of the
slope leading up to the sheer rock of the mountain. I
train my eye on the brilliant red and gold of the rock.
Something in the center of it beckons. I strain my
eyes to see better and I imagine that I see the tiniest
gleam of light flashing off the rock. It may not be a
light but simply the way the shadows are falling on it.

I close my eyes and try to imagine an opening. I can
see the mountains that swell up to meet the sky and
the contrast of the trees to the red of the sheer rock
wall. In the darkness of my closed lids I can clearly
see the flash of light.

When I open my eyes and see only the afternoon
shadow of trees falling on the mountain. Closing my
eyes with new determination I can see the mountain
flanked on either side by trees. I see the sparse shrubs
that lead up the incline between the two stands of
trees. I guide my mind’s eye to the area between the
two stands of forest and there it is. I slowly take in
every detail and then I see a shimmering opening on
the rock wall. I move closer to the wall, and I shiver,
despite the knowledge that this is just a vision.

Above the opening I can just make out some words
carved into the stone. They say
The way is known.
Just inside the mouth of the opening is a very old road
that leads right into the mountain. The road appears
to be made of broken stones that have been carefully
inserted into the ground. The opening is emitting
scents of fresh grass, honeysuckle and the aroma of
fresh baked bread.

I squeeze my legs and urge my horse closer to the
mountain. We travel slowly up the incline passing
the old, gnarled trees on either side. Out of the corner
of my eye I see a girl gesturing at me. I turn from the
path we are on, my eyes still closed, and see Jen
standing there. Her face is pale and her shirt is
stained with blood. The contrast of the white shirt
and red blood makes me gasp. Jen is frantically
gesturing for me to keep going and points to the
opening in the mountain.

My eyes open with a start and Jen is gone. I am
reminded of what the Shining Ones said about the
drifting together of the worlds. My heart is beating
wildly and a stab of fear goes through me. Is Jen
dead and warning me to leave this place? Everything
seems dark. Something feels wrong. Something is
very wrong. My thoughts are cut short at the sound
of a scream.

“Oh God.
-Someone help me”. The sound of wicked
laughter echoes in my mind and the air is charged
with electricity.

Something inside me seems to explode and whirl
around and start in the direction of the scream. Wind
blurs my vision as we pick up speed. The scenery
flashes pastand I hunch over Jast’s neck to reduce
wind resistance. When I reached the canyon I pull
Jast to an abrupt halt and dismount. I free my bow
from the saddle and sling my quiver over my
shoulder.

Below me, I see what initially appears to be a large
man but I quickly take note that he has dark wings.
As I move closer, I can see that it has eyes like a
snake that are fiery red. Two more, of the same type
of demons, stand near the first and their voices sound
as though they are a great multitude. Tied to a tree, is
a young man, with dark hair. A demon pokes him
with what appears to be a stick with a red hot stone on
the end. The victim’s arms are pulled taunt and his
body is slumping down. I can’t tell if he’s dead or
simply passed out.

I am standing just upward from the demons and
position my bow. My feet are shoulder width apart
and my left foot is slightly back. I lock my arm and
hold the bow securely in my left hand. I Pull back on
the string until its taunt and load the arrow in the
center.

I take aim and let the arrow fly. The arrow finds its
way to the heart of the demon standing by the victim.
As quick as lightening another arrow follows the first
one and sinks into demon’s chest.

The other demons turn
to see what’s going on and
their eyes burn with hate when they see me. Their
arms are overlong and end with broad hands, bony
fingers and razor sharp nails. Giant wings fan the air
and they lift off the ground to take flight.

Within seconds I grab an arrow from the quiver, load
it and it pierces the creature. It staggers, pulls the
shaft from its chest and throws it on the ground. The
creature raises itself off the ground to fly and but the
wound is gushing blood and it drops back down. It
staggers for a moment and then falls to the ground.
Its breath comes short and fast as the life force fades
away.

The final creature lifts to the ground and flies high in
the air. It turns toward me and raises a long arm as
though in victory.
You will die today
it calls out with
a voice that sounds like 20 men. In an instant it
moves higher in the sky and is gone in a matter
moments. It will only be a matter of time before it
returns with many more of its kind.

I make my way quickly to the person bound to the
tree. His head is slumped and his hair falls over his
face. I waste no time feeling his neck for a pulse and
expect to find him dead. He has a massive burn to his
thigh and blood pumps from a wound on his arm.

I run to my saddle bag and pull out Anathema. As I
pull the knife out of the sheath it glows as though
alive with white flame. I put my arms around the
man to support him as I touch the ropes. He is
heavier than he appears and I almost fall under his
weight. I brace him with my shoulder and help him
to sit down and lean against the tree he had just been
cut free from.

Surveying his arm I try and decide what I should do.
He is losing massive amounts of blood and from the
shredding of flesh it’s likely an artery has been
severed. Not knowing what else to do I decide to
touch the wound with the flame of the knife. It is
cool to the touch but it’s worth a try to see if the
flame can cauterize.

Anathem
a’s blade is brought down on the wound and
the skin sizzles and pops. There is a rush of steam
from the place the blade touched and when I remove
it the bleeding has stopped.

The skin appears to be closed and the area smooth to
the touch. The wound has the remarkable appearance
of a burn that has healed in its entirety.

The man began to move and tried to raise his head.
When he finally gathered the strength to raise his
head and look at me I had to take a step backwards
from the shock. I turn around and take a few deep
breaths to recover my composure. Once my heart rate
steadied enough for me to regain my thoughts I
slowly turn to face him.

His gaze is unwavering and intense. I stand here not
knowing what to say and utterly confused about how
I feel. Why should I care about what happens to him?
Why did I have to meet him again? The past is better
left untouched but the memories swirl around in my
mind.

He is the one I thought I would spend forever with.
The one that took my breath away and made my
world feel right. There was a time when we could
finish each other’s sentences and I can’t help but
wonder what he is thinking now. So much has
changed since I last saw him. I found my way out of
the dark ally of my mind and have grown comfortable
in my own skin. I had no choice but to move on and
make the best of things. Grandma June and Jen had
told me to stop whining and move on and that’s what
I did. How am I supposed to pretend like nothing
happened?

The memories assault my mind with clarity and I try
and push them back. I can see myself, as I looked
that day, as if it were yesterday. It was finals week
and I stayed late to finish a project. I can remember
the sound of the frozen snow underneath my feet as I
left the school campus. The wind was blowing and
the news had said it was going to snow again.

My green coat was pulled tight around me as I ran
towards home. My backpack full of books
awkwardly slid from side to side as I ran. Cold air
burned my lungs. I remember slowing to a walk to
catch my breath and then hearing footsteps behind
me. I veered off the road and planned to take a
shortcut homebut it didn’t register with me that the
deep snow would slow me down- until it was too late.
The area I ran into was heavily wooded and it was
difficult to pick up the pace as the snow became deep.

Then I could hear many footsteps behind me. I
turned around to look and found that I was being
followed by a group of senior boys. They are
laughing and taunting me.

The boys grabbed me by the hair and ripped off my
coat. The last face I saw, as I was punched in the
face, was Tyler. He just stood off by himself and
watched the events unfold. He said nothing as blood
ran down my face. When I called to him he just
looked away. I called to him a few times and when
another punch connected with the side of my head I
passed out.

It was freezing cold and snowing when I woke up.
No one was around and footprints of the boys trailed
off away from where I was lying. I recall forcing
myself to get up and put my coat back on. Bleeding
and injured, I made my way through the woods. I
could barely rememberthe way to Jen’s house as I
limped through the snow.

The school year went by in a whirlwind and Tyler
never spoke to me again. He passed me in the halls
but looked right past me. I could be standing right in
front of him and he would not acknowledge me. Life
after that was defined by going through the motions
of each day. The idealistic girl who had plans to help
the world was gone. The dreams of the future filed
away in the back of my mind. Tyler had taken all that
away from me. What he did had consumed me and
taken away a part of my soul.

Now he needs my help.
Tyler’s effect on me had not
changed. It was the same as it had been 2 years ago.
My thoughts stumble over each other as I try and sort
it out. I can feel panic rising up in me and I might
have known that if Tyler resurfaced in my life I
would feel this way. The thought of having to take
him with me is exasperating. I am especially
frustrated looking at the renewed hope in his eyes. A
cold angerstirred in my chest. He didn’t even care
what happened to me for almost 2 years and now he’s
turned up again. For what? Why is he even here?

Tyler looked me full in the face and his gaze wavered
for a moment. As though reading my mind he cleared
his throat then started to speak.“I shouldn’t have run
away Ivy. I amnot only an idiot but also a coward”.

I am speechless. There were so many the rumors that
he had broken up with me, and behind it all, was
something so much worse. I can I believe a word he
says? Sitting there acting as though he had no other
options than what he opted to do that day. Well
things were different now. I am no longer the little
girl with the drunken mother that he was too ashamed
to bring home to meet his family. The playing field is
leveled now and he won’t make it here without me. I
should leave him here to rot.