Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 74(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
In her mind she had always known the danger she was thrusting her daughter into, but to her credit, she had never imagined throwing her alone or unprepared to Remo Drammen.
She whirled around before she did something she’d regret later on. Not killing him, because that would be very satisfying, even if he’d return after a few weeks. But if he was telling the truth, which she suspected he was, then the portal could activate at a time when Remo wasn’t present and other creatures of the quasar stellar would start pouring in unchecked. The land here was already dead and there was a possibility that nothing would happen, but if the creatures learned to travel through the paths like Arianna, Remo and Zantry had . . . and the three of them had killed an entire planet just to be able to physically manifest . . . Arianna didn’t want to think about the consequences if Remo wasn’t present to guard the portal, to bind whatever came through to his will by taking from its essence – even if it made him more powerful in the process.
Furious with herself and the sense of futility, Arianna balled her hands into fists and began marching away; searching the path in the ether she had once made long ago for emergencies.
“And Zantry?” She paused to wait for a reply, but when only silence met her, she flashed to earth, to the only person she knew would give her the space and solace she needed.
Chapter Five
The Grieving…
Arianna fell right in the middle of her friend’s living-room in Brooklyn, on the middle of a glyph that had been carved into the mortar during the building of the two-story home.
Matilda spilled the mouthful she had just sipped onto herself and jumped to check on her friend. She wasn’t surprised with the sudden appearance, no; she had been expecting her friend to arrive ever since she had heard about the dreadful news, although she had been waiting for her friend to arrive in a more conventional way. She hid the shock that jolted through her at Arianna’s unkempt appearance, the torn and bloodied clothes, the hair wild and loose, knotted and greasy.
Matilda touched a tentative hand to her friend’s shoulder, unsure if the blood on her clothes was her own or something – someone – else’s. She felt the tremors that shook Arianna’s shoulders first, heard the silent sobs next. Her heart went out to her friend, hurt for her, for the horrific loss she had endured this past week. She understood tears didn’t come easily to her, so she crouched beside her, gathered the grieving woman to her chest, let her purge her grief, met her husband’s eyes before he silently stood and left the room to give them privacy.
When Arianna was spent, Matilda helped Arianna to stand, then lead her to the spare bedroom on the second floor. Without a word, she helped Arianna to undress, cataloguing the injured palms, the raw knees before helping her to the bathroom, under the hot spray. It was comfort Matilda offered. Both understood so.
When Arianna emerged clean and naked from the bathroom a few minutes later, she found soft, worn pajamas neatly folded atop the single bed, dressed mechanically. She hadn’t cried before, hadn’t shed a tear even when she learned her world was turning upside down, upended in a way that dropped away all she had gathered and nurtured and tucked inside that basket of life. But the hopelessness of today, of realizing she couldn’t take her revenge on her foe, on the murderer of her daughter without dooming the entire universe, broke a fundamental piece of herself. She wished for Zantry, the brother of her soul, but he too had mysteriously disappeared. She believed Remo was responsible for that too, but his lack of gloating over his victory had yet to worry her. She believed Zan would show up soon, as he always came back, that together they would figure something out.
Matilda brought her chamomile tea, sat with her in companionable silence as she drank it all, knowing that the witch had used some soothing spell in the tea, though neither women commented upon it. When she was done, Matilda picked a hair brush from the nightstand, brushed Arianna’s glossy black hair slowly, gently. Then she braided it down her back. Tucked her in. Woke her for dinner, watched helplessly as her friend retreated deeper and deeper into herself.
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For months Arianna stayed with Matilda and her husband, tucked inside her own world, in a guest room in a town house in Brooklyn. Rarely did she come out to the living room, rarely did she ever speak. She asked only after her friend Zan, but Matilda was sorry that she didn’t hear anything new. He hadn’t returned, the hunters were beginning to lose hope. Every now and again Archer would call, ask if Matilda had any news about Arianna or Zantry, hang up the moment he heard the expected negative reply. Matilda informed Arianna about the calls, of course, but her friend seemed not to care that the world believed her dead.