Chapter Two
When Ahamo came to once more, it was because he was being forcibly lifted from his sandy bed from under his arms. He was groggy, like he'd somehow slept for hours, but a quick review of the quality of the sunlight told him that he'd only been out for moments, for the sky was still the same shade of blue, and the balloon hadn't really moved much. It wasn't until he could lift his own head from his chest that he realized his legs were half submerged in lake water, and the tide was lapping gently at his calves, drenching his jeans, as well as his boots and the socks within. He was admittedly relieved when the hands pulling him up began to drag him away, but he groaned all the same for the aching sensations it soon brought on.
"Damn," Thomas grunted, "You're heavy when you're playing dead."
He stopped dragging Ahamo when he'd reached a boulder, sitting in the sand like it owned the shoreline. Ahamo was now fully awake and took over the task of positioning himself against its cool surface, and he leaned his head back now to fully gauge their surroundings. Thomas stepped out from behind him, meanwhile, and studied his friend carefully before he too turned to gaze out at the sight, his hands on his hips while he stretched his back. By the look of Thomas, one might have thought that he'd just stepped out of a mild windstorm. Although his clothing was still intact, his denim oxford had come undone from the waistline of his khaki slacks and hung out at the back, and bits of grass clung to his tightly curled, black hair. Looking down on himself, he was comforted to find his own state not so much changed either. Apart from his white button-down shirt now being covered in fine sand where his corduroy jacket had hung open, a small tear in the elbow of said jacket, and soaked shoes, he was satisfied that he was otherwise unharmed, and brushed the sand off his chest and legs in moderate gratitude.
While Ahamo was relieved that he and his friend had survived their journey relatively unscathed, he was admittedly more concerned by where they'd landed, he thought, and he gazed about uncertainly. They had definitely landed on the edge of some kind of lake, and its deep blue waters barely moved apart from the slight rippling tide at its edges, and all of this was surrounded on all sides by ancient looking mountains. He could barely make out the opposite shoreline, which told him that this was, indeed, a vast body of water, and the snow caps on its bordering sentinels warned him that its depths were probably icy even now, despite the temperate climate around them. If it had not been for the short amount of time it had taken them to be tossed from the storm, he might have thought they'd landed somewhere in the Rocky Mountains, where mountain lakes were as plentiful as their craggy counterparts, but the presence of two suns hanging above them instead of one told him another story.
This was not the land of their fathers, he told himself, and he gawked at the twin orbs for a moment while he absorbed what he was seeing. "Well, we're definitely not in Nebraska anymore," he finally muttered, and he scratched his head uncomfortably while he continued a mental inventory of their situation.
Thomas turned from this sight and shook his head as he moved to sit next to his friend. "Then where the hell are we?" He asked himself aloud, knowing that his friend would have no better answer than him.
Ahamo considered Thomas's question, primarily because he recalled asking this question before he'd lost consciousness. Now that he remembered, he'd believed he was either dead or dreaming at the time, because he swore that he'd seen an angel before his concussion finally won. Since his head was still throbbing, he knew he wasn't dreaming, and his wet feet told him that he wasn't dead. Having established this, he was only left with one question: Where was the woman with the lavender eyes?
Ahamo's eyes scanned their general area, and sudden concern for her disappearance clouded his judgement of all other matters. "Was there anyone here when you woke up?" he asked in barely muted concern.
Thomas had taken to leaning his head back on the large boulder, and his eyes opened only as wide as slits to spy his friend, and he closed them again when he'd determined that Ahamo was alright. "No," he answered while he adjusted himself more firmly against the natural backrest, "and you won't hear me complaining either. I thought we were dead for sure back there."
Ahamo's brow furrowed in deep thought. He knew he hadn't imagined the woman, but why she'd suddenly disappeared was a mystery that he couldn't seem to work out in his state. There wasn't much, in fact, that he could work out while his head pounded between his ears, and the state of his feet was something that would need to be rectified sooner rather than later. Although a part of him had hoped to see her once more, and to hear her voice again as she untangled the knots in his head, he had bigger problems now, and they wouldn't be solved by sunbathing on the shore of some mountain lake.
Ahamo laboriously clambered into a standing position, and while he stretched his legs, he spoke with resigned acceptance in his voice. "Well, I don't think we'll get too far today, wherever we are. I think it might be best to make a fire. That'll do for a signal, and I might actually get my feet to dry out while we wait for help."
If Ahamo had been looking at Thomas, in that moment, he would have noticed the younger man scanning the shoreline in both directions, looking somewhat skeptical at what his friend suggested. He didn't need to, however, because Ahamo could see the same thing; absolutely nothing in either direction except rough, uninhabited terrain. The only possible help Ahamo could think of had vanished, along with any hope of figuring out what this place was. The Outer Zone, he thought she'd called it, and its similarity to the term "landing zone," so often used in the military, was so oddly juxtaposed with his experience of such a place that a wave of relief washed over him despite their bleak situation. He almost smiled, except the remembrance also gave him pause, as a sense of grief seemed to accompany that levity of apparently having escaped ever having to go back there again.
"You're doing it again," Thomas stated flatly, pointing directly at Ahamo's face, which had become unreadable once more while he considered his past.
Ahamo glanced at Thomas before he began to search for firewood, and asked defensively, "What?"
Thomas climbed into standing and walked in a parallel path to his friend, and he continued to corner him uncharacteristically while they both searched for firewood. "Every time you think about the war, you shut down. Why do you do that, Ahamo? We've been friends since I could barely walk. I thought you could trust me."
Thomas' assessment of Ahamo's state had been so pointedly accurate, and so painfully expressed that Ahamo could not help but stop and sigh to the sky. "I'm sorry, Elijah." He replied regretfully, "I guess I just thought I shouldn't talk about it. Up until we landed here, I thought you'd be going to Vietnam with me soon, and frankly, it wasn't something I wanted you to know about before you had to."
"What a load of elephant shit, Ahamo!" Thomas burst out, and he shook his head as he picked up another stick and added it to the stack forming in his arms. "You just didn't want to face it yourself, admit it." Ahamo shook his head in a clear refusal to admit anything, and Thomas added for good measure, "You're not doing yourself any good keeping it locked up, man. The darkness will kill you if you let it. Trust me. If you want to be a righteous man, you have to start by being an honest one, that's what my momma used to say."
Ahamo was still silently chewing on this morsel of wisdom when they both returned to the sitting rock, now both laden down with firewood. When Thomas noted Ahamo's thoughtful expression, he completed his thought in a compassionate, sagely manner. "Look, I know the war was bad. You don't gotta tell me. I've seen enough war of my own, being a black man, that I've never even told you about. Just don't shut down on me anymore, okay?"
Ahamo was working in earnest on building a fire now, but he paused long enough to meet his friend's eyes, and he nodded mutely when he did. Thomas watched his friend in silence now, periodically handing him wood when his hand reached out. It was a companionable silence overall, one that you might expect of family. Much of their reconciliation was done now through the passing of firewood and kindling, until a pleasant fire was finally crackling before them, and the young men had reclined their backs against the rock once more, shoulder to shoulder in both the figurative and literal sense.
Ahamo began pulling his boots off, and while he was primarily focused on his task, a wicked grin spread on his face, and he broke their silence with a clear jest. "You know, your mom was really great. Did you know that she was the one who taught me how to run games on the fairgoers? She always told me that 'you'll get more flies with honey, Ahamo.' True story!"
Thomas elbowed his friend hard and cried out indignantly, "Don't you go talkin' about my momma, Ahamo. You might be two years older than me, but I can still whoop ya." He'd grinned when Ahamo fell onto the sand with a chuckle, and he scoffed good-naturedly while he shook his head at the fire before them.
"Forget about me, you could probably take on a bear or two without breaking a sweat!" Ahamo cried out as he gasped for breath between laughs. When the laughter died down, Ahamo pulled himself back into sitting with his arm flush with his friend's and he continued speaking now in utter earnest. "There was a woman on the shore, just before we crashed." He glanced at his friend, who he could tell was moderately interested. "I think she might have helped us, somehow, but you'll think I'm nuts if I tell you why."
"You're not going to ruin your record yet, are you?" Thomas warned him darkly.
Ahamo shook his head and sighed, "I think she slowed down our fall. It felt like it anyway." He glanced at Thomas, who remained completely silent, and clearly bewildered. Ahamo shrugged in a half-hearted attempt to assuage his friend's disbelief, indicating with the rise and fall of his shoulders that he was rather uncertain himself, and he continued with a thoughtful frown, "I don't know what happened to her though. One minute she was here, telling me her name, and the next thing I know, you're pulling me out of the lake. I wish I knew what happened to her."
Thomas let out a loud sigh and chucked a scrap of wood into the fire. "Man, I don't know. I'd be more worried about where the hell we are. I mean, look at that," he paused to gesture to the suns just beginning to fall behind the mountains ahead of them. "I don't think she could point the way to the road back to Nebraska or nuthin. Did she tell you anything useful?"
"She called this place the Outer Zone. The OZ for short, I guess you might say, but I'm not sure what that means." Ahamo grumbled to his feet, wiggling his toes to stretch the tendons as a way to distract himself.
There was an audible silence from Thomas after Ahamo completed his thought, and for a moment, all that could be heard was the pop and hiss of driftwood being consumed by the fire. It was so quiet that they could hear a lone cricket chirping a great distance away, and so when a voice sounded just behind them, they were visibly shaken.
"It means, you're a long way from home," A smooth voice rumbled, causing the two men to jerk their heads around as they scrambled into standing, looking wide-eyed and startled to come face to face with another person.
The unexpected arrival of the smooth-talking stranger had so startled the men, that their stances as they turned to face him were low to the ground. Ahamo's body tensed, and his arms were out as if he was getting ready to wrestle, and Thomas had the look of a boxer, with his fists already made into tight boulders and his forearms ready to block a blow. It hardly seemed necessary when they assessed the man standing before them, leaning his old, bent body on a knotted piece of driftwood as he smiled on them curiously. His dark skin was wrinkled and hung about him and created shadows on his face like lines in a gnarly oak tree in the firelight that licked at his face, making his amber eyes glitter like jewels in the growing dark.
The man shifted his weight and stepped casually around Ahamo on his way to the other side of the fire, and he chuckled darkly while he slowly sat down and pulled his dark cloak tighter around his body, rubbing his shoulders as if cold. "Now, now, I don't mean ya' any harm. I was just wantin' a bit o yer fire for a spell, warm my old bones."
The old man's eyes seemed to bore into the young men, like he was daring them to be disrespectful to such a harmless and ancient creature. Ahamo was the first to crack, and dropped his defensive stance, and let his fatigue show when he stepped forward and joined the old man at the fire. Thomas was slower to move, and while he dropped his fists, he continued to stand somewhat apart from them while he eyed the man suspiciously.
"Suit yourself, youngun," the old man called out to Thomas when he continued to keep his distance, and he withdrew a flask from within the folds of his cloak, and took a long, leisurely sip of it, before he replaced the cap and returned it to its home.
Ahamo was entranced by the old man and found himself oddly at ease with his manner; like he was being lulled into a sense of security that was in itself unsettling for the unusual circumstances of his arrival. Even when the man was not looking directly at him, Ahamo felt as if he had the man's full attention, and when he took a drink from his flask, Ahamo swore he could feel the smooth liquid sliding down his own throat. It should have troubled Ahamo, how the old stranger had mesmerized him so easily, but with as disoriented as he already felt, it was an odd comfort.
"What's your name, old man?" Ahamo asked with a lopsided smile.
The old man's eyes were fixed on the fire for a moment while he considered his answer, and he smiled secretly to those flames before his eyes returned to looking between the pair of them when he answered thoughtfully, "I've been known by a lot of names over the annuals, but my given name is Ardat Lilith."
The man's eyes stopped on Thomas, and they were like focused laser points on the man's soul, reminding Thomas of a viper before it struck its prey. Thomas bristled internally, and a chill went up his spine. This had the direct effect of making the young man's shoulders square up as his body seemed to grow in size, and he stared right back with an intense and knowing expression. The old man's face was briefly unreadable, and Thomas sensed that this Lilith was just as troubled by his inability to sway Thomas' mind as Thomas was being pandered to. That look was gone in a flash though, and just as quickly, the old man's face broke into a wide, almost seductive smile.
"I bet your momma told you to be wary of strangers, boy, and she was right." The old man spoke cleverly, "but I'm not much of a threat. Matter of fact, I might be able to help ya, if you'll let me that is."
Ahamo glanced at his friend and frowned disapprovingly when he realized how unfriendly he had appeared to their new acquaintance. "Show a little respect, Thomas, come on. Come sit."
Ahamo had waved his friend over to them, and Thomas finally relented, seeing as his friend was already so at ease. He tried to shake off the bristling chill that kept him aloof, and sat down instead, as he'd been asked. His distrust of the old man was still apparent, however, and he continued to eye the man cautiously, like he might burst through the fire that separated them at any moment.
The man seemed to ignore Thomas's expression now, and returned his attention instead to Ahamo, who had so expertly swayed the other where he hadn't. "Well, I told you my name, youngun, so why don't you tell me yourn?"
"The name's Ahamo," he replied easily, and gestured to Thomas when he added, "and you already know that that guy over there, is Thomas."
Thomas' eyes locked on the old man as Ahamo introduced them, and the old man held his gaze, saying so much with his eyes, which glowed like hot pokers in the firelight. This did not seem to create any discomfort in the younger of the two, and he continued to stare hard at the old man when he asked pointedly, "You said you could help us. You gonna wave some magic wand and send us back to Nebraska, or what?"
Ahamo balked, and he opened his mouth to chide his friend, except the old man chuckled and waved him off. "It's alright, Ahamo. I did promise to help, after all." He paused to sigh, after which he explained, "I might could, do a little magic, but not right now. I'm old, and I'm tired. I need to eat, and I expect you do too." Ahamo nodded in agreement, and he continued suggestively, "I've got a cabin up there a bit. That's how I sees you down here with your fire. I was just puttin' a pot of soup on the stove just now, before I came down to see ya. Maybe you could come up and take a meal with me, and in the mornin' I'll see about sendin' ya where ya' belong."
Thomas and Ahamo both turned to follow the line of the man's gnarled finger, pointing to the outcropping of stone behind them. Earlier, when they'd glanced to where the sandy beach was cut off by a line of pine trees climbing up those rocks, they'd seen nothing to make them think that they'd landed on someone's doorstep. Now, however, there was no mistaking the comfortable little stone cabin nestled between two massive trunks, its chimney puffing happily with bright, white smoke. It was like something out of a postcard, and it was just the kind of image that had filled Ahamo's mind when they'd first sat down before the fire, and he wondered at the sight in silent awe while he scrambled to pull his shoes back on. Thomas, on the other hand, spied the structure with growing suspicion. There was something too perfect about this scenario, and the fact that his usually cautious friend was somehow lulled into an oddly dopey stupor made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Even though the old man was nothing like the odd stranger who'd set them on this wild ride in the first place, that same sense of foreboding loomed in his mind. Ahamo seemed more concerned with food and comfort, however, and grew listless the longer they sat. Even if Thomas didn't want to follow the stranger, he knew he'd have to, if only to keep Ahamo safe.
"Well, I guess, mister. Better than starvin' I suppose." Thomas finally grumbled, drawing a delighted laugh, deep and full of dark promise, from the old man.
The old man slowly raised himself back up into standing, and he was still smiling delightedly when he replied, "That's real good, Elijah Thomas, real good."
They say that when a person's secret name is so called, the person uttering the name is granted a kind of power over them, and so it seemed to be the case with Elijah Thomas and Ardat Lilith. When he'd uttered Thomas' name, Thomas found he could hardly keep himself from rising with Ahamo as the man had indicated with the movement of his hand. Then, like they were puppets tied to some invisible tether, they followed along a suddenly clear path to the cabin in the clearing, the man hobbling along ahead of them all the while.
The idyllic picture of a homey cabin continued its appearance when they stepped through the threshold, and the small, one room space surrounded them in roughhewn granite and pine wood. A friendly fire crackled in the grate to their left, and the old man had already crouched before it and was ladling soup from a heavy, cast-iron pot into stoneware bowls when they stopped to stare around them. He pointed to a plush looking couch that was planted before the fire, beckoning them to sit while he prepared their modest meal. The pair did as they were asked without complaint or implied displeasure of any kind and settled into the soft fabric with easy sighs. In short order, the bowls were handed out, and the moment the spoons were provided by the man, both Ahamo and Thomas dug in with the relish of starved men. The old man merely sat back in his armchair and watched the young men with a dark smile spreading slowly on his face, is own hands free of the food he'd provided to his guests.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Ahamo asked, his mouth full of food as he spoke in a muffled voice.
The old man nodded his head slowly, and he replied in a deep, almost gleeful way, "Oh yes, I'm definitely going to eat well tonight, dear boy, but first, tell me about the girl."
Ahamo's head was feeling heavy again, and he glanced at his friend, who had suddenly stopped eating. The room had begun to spin quite suddenly, and although he had quickly become disoriented, he could distinctly hear the man's timbre and manner of speaking change markedly, telling Ahamo that there was much more to this man than he'd initially thought. Thomas, meanwhile, was staring between Ahamo and his bowl like he'd just been poisoned; his eyes were blinking hard as if he was struggling to grasp something. He then dropped the bowl suddenly, and made to lunge at the old man, but he swooned as he rose, and suddenly crumbled on the floor in a heap. Ahamo stared at his friend in horror, all while the stark realization continued to hit him. He'd been played, and he suddenly wondered if he would live to tell anyone about it later.
Instead of panicking though, his training kicked in rather suddenly, and he rubbed his face with the heel of his hand before he answered groggily, "I don't know what you're talking about. We didn't come here with any girl."
The old man rose to full height, and as he did, his face twisted into something sinister. Then he walked forward, slowing only to step in between Ahamo's open legs. Placing his hand on either side of the couch just behind Ahamo's head, he leaned forward, making his breath come in deathly cold in the young man's face. "There was a girl on the shore before you landed. A stupid, meddling, little witch. I know you saw her. Where is she?" The man interrogated Ahamo, his voice deadly and quiet and near to hissing when he described the dreamlike girl who'd helped them earlier.
Ahamo's sight was beginning to blur again, and he could feel his consciousness slipping despite his best efforts to remain alert, and he murmured nonsensically just as he finally succumbed, "Momma always told me that you'd get more flies with honey. Righteous man is an honest man." He could hear the old man growl in furry, but his mouth felt suddenly full of cotton, and his body slumped over while his eyes drifted shut.
The old man was still looming dangerously close to Ahamo when he'd slumped over on his side, now fully unconscious and unaware. Ordinarily, he would have taken this opportunity to feed on the soul of such a ripe young victim, but this was a special case. Before the young man had dropped into an unconscious state, he could taste the desire on him, which would have normally been caused by his unique gift. This time, however, it had been caused by the lingering effects of that dark haired girl's magic that still hovered around the young man like a perfume. Ardat rose to his full height and glared down at the boy while he considered this, and his eyes then roved over to the other, slumped over on the floor in a dreamless sleep. This one, he thought, had resisted him where none other had in all of his hundreds of annuals walking this earth. He'd have to keep these two alive a little while longer and discover the secrets that they still hid within their drugged brains, he determined with a deep growl.
With that decided, the dark man twisted his head, acting as if he was cracking his bones after a long day. As he did, his body seemed to inflate and grow plump, where before he'd appeared as a shriveled up ancient. His stature nearly doubled, and his muscles began to bulge, until finally, a young, virile man stood in the center of the room, glaring down on his prey in the menacing dark. The only sound in that room, beyond the soft breath of the sleeping boys and the crackle of the fireplace, was the low growl of the creature, whose very existence was a threat to anything good or wholesome. Anger glowed in his eyes, which unlike the rest of him, had changed very little during his metamorphosis, and these were focused on the prey that would not satisfy his intense hunger.
It was decided, it seemed, and the beast called Lilith picked Thomas up with one hand and slung him over one shoulder before he did the same to Ahamo. It was as if he was hauling sacks of feed instead of people, the way he walked so surefooted across that stone floor, barely making a sound, all while his prey continued to slumber. With a flick of his massive wrist, a secret door appeared in the wall, and he swung the door wide before he swept through, not even stopping to shut it behind him before he started the trek down the long stairs to the hidden rooms below. This was a feat that no man could have managed on his own, and certainly not without being out of breath by the end, but when Ardat Lilith finally deposited his prey onto the floor of a dark, cold room somewhere below, he was barely winded.
The room where he'd dropped Ahamo and Thomas was nearly the size of his small cabin above, and was almost entirely made of stone, except the hard dirt that formed the floor. There was almost no light in this space, except a dim bulb that hung, solitary and unadorned, in the center of the room. The place was cold too, like the light of that bulb, and it could have made a decent root cellar if there were any shelves for a person to store their dry goods on for the winter. Instead of this, there were only two chairs in the center of the room, and these were occupied by two young men of equal age to the newcomers, tied tightly by their arms and legs so they could not escape. The bound pair had been completely silent when Lilith appeared in the doorway, framed by stark light that made their eyes burn, and when he'd deposited Ahamo and Thomas on the floor, they'd only stared in wide-eyed terror, afraid of what could be coming next.
The massive man did not even note them while he bound the hands and feet of his newest guests, as if they were little more than ants on the floor. It wasn't until he'd stood up again that his eyes roamed to them, that both young men held their breath. First, Ardat considered the younger of the two: younger men were by far a better meal, for their souls were still so pure and ripe for tasting. He was a pretty thing too, with dark, glossy curls, and nearly effeminate features. His rich garments of fine linen and silk gave him away though, and he turned away from him with a displeased scowl. Instead, he grasped the chair of the elder and raised it to his face; he was a boy of perhaps two and twenty, who was more rugged and seasoned than the other, and wore the deep blue coat and pants of a royal guard. His soul would not be as fulfilling as the other, but it would at least satiate him until he could get a handle on his witch problem.
When he began to turn towards the door, taking his silently crying prey with him, the younger cried out very suddenly, his clear voice making even Ardat pause in curiosity. "He's just an innocent guard, it's not his fault. It's me you really want. Please, take me instead."
Ardat turned his head and smiled darkly at the boy, and he returned in a chillingly knowledgeable way, "You would, indeed, be a good morsel, my lord, but I'm afraid that I might need you later when your little friend arrives."
He laughed when the curly-headed man's face grew pale, and he returned his gaze to the door beyond as he strode the rest of the way out. His laughter could still be heard after he'd slammed that heavy, iron door shut and locked it, and above this, the frightened cries of the guard echoed loudly on the stone. It was enough to wake the other men, and they only just jumped into waking before they were completely silent again, eyeing the room and their co-inhabitant in quiet alarm while the screams continued down the hall. Although there were clear questions flashing on the faces of his new roommates, the young man in the chair could not speak for the cries that continued beyond. He'd considered introducing himself when his guard finally stopped yelling, but quickly snapped his mouth shut again when the whimpers replaced the former. They were a pleading kind of sound, and all within that room could only imagine what was happening. Then the whimpering changed again, from pleading to almost pleasure; and then a moan, low and animalistic, until finally, a soft and relaxed sigh eased through the air, like a kind of release had been reached. These kinds of sounds were so at odds with their predicament that any imagining they could dream up only caused their bones to chill and their teeth to chatter in fear. This was not a pleasant kind of release, they were sure, but one of absolute surrender that could only result in death.
It was absolutely silent now, and Ahamo took this opportunity to groan quietly at himself, admonishing himself for his apparent stupidity. "Of all the stupid things I could go and do. What am I always saying, Thomas?"
"Everyone's got an angle," his friend whispered back.
Ahamo nodded back, his face reading with a fair amount of fear and disgust. "I'm sorry I got us into this mess, Thomas. You'd think I'd know better after getting shot at for two years, but no. I get one look at a pretty girl with dark hair, and I completely forget myself."
Thomas didn't think this was a fair assessment of what had happened, but he didn't get an opportunity to speak, because the other boy cut in, sounding almost excited when he asked in a quick wave, "A girl? Where? Was she close?" Ahamo's eyes silently pointed at the door, which hadn't yet budged. Despite that, it was still possible that Lilith was listening, and so he only shook his head in warning. The other boy seemed to understand this and shifted his speech to less sensitive topics. "I only ask because she's the reason I'm out here in the first place." He paused as if to consider how to explain himself, and he blurted out quickly, "My name is Oliver Sewel, you see, and Lavender – the girl – is my friend." He had another false start when certain information he very nearly divulged seemed too sensitive and he finished blandly, "She likes going on these little adventures, you see, and I was worried, so I followed her."
Ahamo's curiosity was peaked to say the least, and a faint glimmer of hope was in his eye for the briefest of moments before the door swung open again, and Ardat Lilith reappeared, huffing so deeply that his bare chest heaved and glistened in the pale light. He was honestly a sight to behold, even to them, and the mere suggestion that they might find this beast even remotely alluring made them all recoil deeper into themselves. When he reappeared, the body of the guard was slung over his shoulder, and he dropped him unceremoniously to the ground after he'd set eyes on each one of them in turn, daring them to move. The only man appearing unaffected by the form of Ardat Lilith had been Thomas, of course, and he stared defiantly on him through the entire scene. This incensed the man, and when he'd released the crumpled form of the guard to the ground, he stalked over to him, intent now on determining how the younger black man could so effectively resist him. He was almost on him too, and had his fingers curled around Thomas's biceps as if he'd intended to raise him from the ground, except a sound, slight and barely audible, floated into the room, and made him pause. His head jerked around, and even he stopped breathing for the moment it took him to try and discern what he thought he'd heard. When he couldn't seem to make it out, Lilith growled low and released Thomas, turning at the same time to stalk out of the room. The door shut silently behind him, and they could hear the lock engage, preventing any hope of escape while he was gone.
Despite this, Ahamo didn't waste a moment. Adrenaline seemed to be pumping through him now so fast, that his breath was quick and shallow, and his eyes were wide as they scanned the room and rested on the guard. Until Lilith had returned the man to them, they'd all thought he was dead, but upon his return, they'd discovered that he'd somehow survived his encounter, for although he was still crumpled on the floor before them, he was breathing, and completely free from any bonds. Logically, the three men knew that Lilith would only have left him like this if he thought he'd be less than a threat, but still, it was a small silver of hope that Ahamo grabbed onto with both hands.
"Hey, mister," he hissed, stretching his bound feet out to try and nudge the man's leg, "can you untie us?"
It only took Oliver a moment, and then he too was coaxing the young guard, calling him by name. "Willoby, wake up. Please, say something at least, tell me you're okay."
Willoby groaned deeply, and he balled up into a fetal position, whimpering when the realization of what he'd just been through hit him. Oliver's eyes scanned his friend thoroughly meanwhile, trying to determine what had been done to him, and when he could find no evidence, he gently coaxed his friend into turning to face them.
"Willoby, please, let me see you. What did he do to you?" Oliver pleaded quietly.
Willoby seemed to have heard Oliver's soft request, and for a moment, it seemed that he would refuse, for his head shook emphatically and he balled up tighter. Then Ahamo spoke, now sounding commanding, but with an edge of kindness when he let his voice carry a little louder. "Come on soldier, this isn't the time for cowering. We need to know what happened to you before he comes back. I know you're hurting, but this isn't over yet." The boy stopped whimpering at Ahamo's command, and his body seemed to relax somewhat. "Now turn over. Willoby, is it?" Ahamo commanded, "And come untie us if you can."
The young man did as he was asked, although he moved sluggishly as he turned and began to crawl in their direction. Ahamo wouldn't have known, of course, never having met Willoby before now, that this had been a young man not so long ago. The face that met them now was middle aged and ashen, and his green eyes were dark and vacant. Oliver did his best to maintain his composure, but a silent alarmed glance at Ahamo had told his new companion enough; there was clearly something very wrong with their friend. Despite this knowledge, Ahamo continued to encourage the young man, talking to him reassuringly as he reached forward to unbind him.
"You're doing real good, Willoby, and when we get out of here, we'll get you to a doctor as fast as we can." Willoby did not really respond to this and continued to work on the bonds like he was in a trance.
When Ahamo was completely unbound, he smiled kindly on the man, and pointed to Oliver, knowing now that he'd have to treat the man-boy like one of his soldiers if he was going to get him to comply. "Alright now Willoby, why don't you go untie Oliver, and I'll work on my friend, Thomas. Okay?"
Willoby nodded lamely and turned to Oliver to do as he'd been requested. He was completely silent, all the while, and continued to act as if he were in some kind of dream state. Ahamo and the others were nearly as silent, and the only sounds they made were those of exertion while they labored to free themselves. When all was done, the three freed men stood around the room, quietly trying to pick out any noises from the space beyond the door.
Then Willoby let out a cry, piercing and agonizing, as he doubled over and crumpled to the floor. A wave of shock and terror ran through the faces of the others while they looked on the guard, who was now writhing on the dirt floor and clutching at his own body in sudden excruciating agony. As hard as he clutched himself, one might have thought he was trying to hold himself together, and in many ways he was. For the longer he whimpered and wailed, the more his body shrunk and shriveled, until the middle-aged man was gone, and an ancient body lay before them, completely silent now and unbreathing. The others could only stare in wide eyed shock at what they'd seen, too surprised yet to be scared, and too full of adrenaline to let their brains process any more than exactly what they needed them to.
Ahamo had just begun to breathe again, and his chest heaved from the heavy, quick breathing coming in and out of his chest. In his mind, he knew that he was probably the most capable of the three of them, having been trained to handle hostage situations. This was no ordinary captor though, and his mind raced while he considered how they might get past the hulking monster that had drained the young man at his feet. Then, before another thought could leave his brain, the door suddenly swung open, and it banged on the wall behind it from the force done on it. Ahamo knew that he'd have no more time to consider his options, and he would have to move fast, for Ardat Lilith stood framed in the doorway, ready to deal with them. Ahamo prepared himself mentally to deal with the hulking man, and had gotten himself into a battle-ready stance, except Lilith seemed to ignore him. His eyes were fixed on Thomas, and he made a move as if to pounce on him, except the moment he stepped inside the room, a bright flash suddenly filled the room, and blinded all within. This blinding light was accompanied by a thunderous bang from the hallway and Lilith cried out, sounding angry and wounded, just before he crashed to the ground next to the unmoving guard.
When the light died down, and the men could see once more, they looked about in shock. The giant, hulking man had been so easily subdued, that it hardly seemed possible. What was more, it had been the girl, Lavender, and she stood in the doorway with nothing more than her hands outstretched as weapons. Ahamo was awestruck, to say the least, and he stared unblinking at her, even when her stance had relaxed and she blinked back at him, smiling demurely. Her lavender eyes had been blazing at first when she was expecting some kind of reaction from Lilith, and wisps of her dark hair, which was otherwise tied into a braid at her back, waved around her slender and pale face. Her breath was equal in Ahamo's in how it came in fast and shallow, and she panted as if she'd just ran a race. This made her cheeks flushed, and when she'd realized how Ahamo was looking at her, they'd turned a shade even darker, and she dropped her hands at her sides with a relieved sigh.
"Lavender!" Oliver cried out, "boy am I glad you're here!"
Lavender's eyes flickered to her friend for a moment, and she grinned breathlessly at him before her focus was back on Ahamo, and she raised an eyebrow in challenge when she asked sardonically, "Well, are you coming or what?"
Just like she'd come, she turned quickly on her heel and darted up the stairs without so much as a look to ensure they were following. The others didn't need any further coaxing and picked their way carefully around the unconscious monster before they too rushed away. Somehow, Lilith had been knocked out so effectively that he did not make a sound, not even when they'd reached the top landing, and burst through the door separating his torture chamber from the cabin. Neither did the man make a sound when they'd reached the outer door, and this spurred the group, which was now dashing away in a pack, with Lavender in the lead.
It was dark outside, and the only light they had to guide their way through the towering pines was the moon, bright like a spotlight as it reached through the arms of the many pines, making a lattice of light on the forest floor. Lavender led them on a meandering chase, and she hopped over tree trunks and weaved around shrubs and boulders like an agile deer escaping its hunter. Ahamo was just behind her, and he continued to marvel at her, for her speed was almost unmatched, and she barely puffed as she moved like she had been choreographed. Then finally, she led them to the mouth of a cave that curled down deep into the stony ground and ushered them in while she reached out once more with her hands, casting a kind of light on the mouth of the cave to close them inside. Then she turned around and sent another wave of light through the rocky corridor, and the friendly little ball bounced past them on a mission, until it finally zoomed back into her hand and hovered there like an obedient puppy. She then sent it overhead, where it hung and buzzed happily, throwing light on the small room they'd discovered as it hummed and danced in a tight circle.
While Thomas and Oliver were both doubled over and gasping for breath, Lavender and Ahamo stood on opposite sides of the cave, seemingly frozen while they stared the other down. It seemed as if time had stopped, and they were wholly alone with the only sound being their own breath as it came out in mildly winded pants. It was an alluring spell that they'd found themselves in; thrilling and confusing for the feelings bubbling up unbidden or sought after, but there nevertheless as if they'd known each other all their lives. Neither moved nor spoke a word while they gauged the other, almost afraid that the enchantment would be broken the moment they did, and it wasn't until Oliver stepped between them that their silent communion was broken, and a flush rose on the young woman's lovely face.
"Lav!" Oliver bust out, and he pulled the girl into a tight hug while he continued to exclaim in happy shock, "Boy am I ever glad you found us!"
Lavender accepted her friend's hug with a kind smile, and her eyes flashed momentarily to Ahamo while she embraced him, before she returned to Oliver and scolded him in a sisterly fashion. "I wouldn't have had to if you had just stayed put like I told you. You knew that monster was preying on young men, why ever did you come after me?"
Oliver was clearly put out, and scoffed at his friend, "Are you kidding? When I finally pried the truth out of Artie, I flipped. You know the Queen –" Lavender shook her head, and her eyes flickered onto the other men, silently warning him to watch what he said next. It was too late though, and Oliver self-corrected in a way that gave away everything that she'd been so careful thus far to keep hidden. "Your mother, sorry. Anyway, she'd be furious if she knew you went out on another mission. You're just lucky that your brother is covering for the both of us. She still thinks you're in Finaqua, not on another crazy crusade."
Ahamo had been gazing around the room during this interchange, making silent note of the space, and finding more reasons to be interested in this woman. This wasn't any ordinary cave, and it appeared as if she'd been here for a few weeks at least. A bed roll was arranged on the wall behind Lavender and Oliver, and she'd somehow managed to tack up a series of notes on the stone above it, apparently having been working on the clues to the monster they'd just escaped. Next to this, a satchel was propped against the wall, and he could tell how the gear was strapped to it, that she'd been doing this kind of thing for some time. If that wasn't enough of an indicator, a glance at the girl's attire told him the rest. A pair of men's slacks, looking of similar issue to the uniform worn by the late Willoby, hung loosely from her hips, and she'd secured them with a belt that was definitely too big for her as well and had extra notches poked roughly into the leather so it would fit snuggly around her small waist. Her button-down shirt seemed borrowed as well, but this was a nicer material that appeared smooth and light in weight, and she'd made it more so by rolling the sleeves up past her elbows. The upper most buttons of this shirt had been left undone, and her throat could be clearly seen, making the man's heart thump a little harder in his chest when he noted how her smooth, creamy skin was only marred by the dirt she'd been so closely acquainted with lately. Ahamo quickly averted his eyes when he realized he'd be staring at her again, and it was only when he glanced down that he noted that she'd been doing all of this in a nothing more than a pair of silken slippers. A grin broke his face, and he noted that despite these little quirks, she'd make a good soldier, if that was even an option here. His eyes glittered back at her when she'd glanced over Oliver's shoulder to meet his eyes briefly, almost as if she'd heard him, and he glanced away nonchalantly, as if nothing had moved him at all. Ahamo continued his scan, and now ambled slowly in a line towards the fire pit she'd made, that now stood cold in the center of the room, indicating to Thomas with the movement of his hand that he should retrieve some of the firewood that had been left by the now closed stone opening. Thomas and Ahamo worked silently while the other two continued to chatter at each other, and only stopped mid-action and wide eyed, when Oliver divulged the woman's identity.
A wicked smile spread on Ahamo's face with this information, and he twisted his head around to stare at Lavender, who was now groaning to the ceiling like an impudent kid. "So, we just got rescued by a princess?" Ahamo laughed, causing the woman's face to return to him. Her eyes were narrowed in mild irritation, and she offered him a sardonic smirk before she stomped up to the fire and set the now expertly arranged logs on fire with a flick of her wrist.
She flopped down onto the ground between Thomas and Ahamo now, ignoring their clear surprise at what she'd done, and indicating with a jaunty wave that Oliver should join them. When Oliver sat himself opposite her at the small fire, she explained herself, sounding suddenly tired and resigned. "It's not a crusade, Oliver. Something had to be done, and she refused to do anything about it, even after an entire mining crew of young men and boys went missing. I thought she would certainly do something when we found the one remaining survivor, but she just assured me that it's happened before and always worked itself out in the past. Like what's been happening is some kind of weather pattern." She was clearly upset by her mother's indifference, and nearly yelled the last part, her exasperation boiling over and making her flushed once more. "In any case, I'd just about found him, I thought, but I could never find that cabin. I must have stared at that outcropping for days, and then today, I heard a travel storm, and there you both were."
"I meant to thank you, princess. You saved our lives." Ahamo muttered quietly, averting his eyes in deference while he pretended to gaze at the fire.
The princess seemed gratified, and smiled slightly before she continued with a sigh, "Well, you might have been killed. I thought that your friend here –"
"Elijah Thomas, your highness," Thomas cut in politely, offering the woman a nod of his head before he added, "and that's Ahamo."
Lavender nodded to Thomas in polite reply and continued her tale, "I apologize, Elijah, because I thought you might be that man. When you began to arouse, I hid. Then, of course, the old man appeared, and I knew that it wasn't you I was searching for, but I couldn't let him harm either of you, and I knew Oliver was still missing besides, so I waited for my chance to overpower that evil man."
"Beggin' your pardon, Highness, but that was no man. That was a demon." Thomas cut in, his eyes meeting hers this time in silent and unblinking earnestness.
Lavender blinked back, seeming somewhat bewildered for this othersider's acute knowledge of one of their world's darkest creatures. He reminded her somewhat of a viewer for how keen his sight seemed to be, but she shook it off quickly to nod in reply.
"You're both from the Otherside, aren't you?" She asked instead, hoping to deflect her sudden bemusement, "I suppose you'll want to go back as soon as you can."
Ahamo and Thomas exchanged a look, full of discussion and agreement without any words, and Ahamo finally shrugged and replied, "Yeah, we're definitely not from around here, but to be honest, I don't think either of us wants to go back." Oliver and Lavender's eyes narrowed in confusion, and he explained, "there's a war going on where we're from, and a lot of young men aren't making it back home alive. I'm a soldier myself, but I'll admit I have no love of war. If you can find a use for me, I'll stay and serve you, rather than die for a hopeless cause."
Lavender's mouth screwed into a thoughtful frown as she considered her answer, and she finally shrugged while replying, "If you're a soldier, I'm sure my father could find you a commission in our army," her eyes flickered onto Oliver and they shared their own secret smile, and she added hopefully, "or perhaps you could be a royal guard. My guards are always quitting. Something about not getting paid enough to race after me."
Ahamo and Lavender shared an impish grin at this notion, and a small laugh escaped her, which she covered over with her hand.
"What about you, Elijah? What do you want to do?" Oliver asked brightly.
Thomas' countenance was clouded in thought until Oliver brought him out, and he glanced up to meet Oliver and Lavender's eyes, looking troubled. "Is there anyone we can call, like police or something, to catch that thing?"
Lavender's head dropped, and she replied sadly, "There are Tin Men, besides our army, but he'll be gone by now. Especially since I'm the one who found him. We probably won't hear about him for a while now." Thomas looked disheartened by this, and his eyes scanned the flames licking the logs between them. "So, these Tin Men. They're cops, right?"
Lavender and Oliver nodded in affirmation.
"How do I join them?" Thomas asked, sounding all together determined and driven where he'd been uncertain just moments before.
His eyes met the princess's again, and in them, he found a kindred. Perhaps with Lavender's help, he thought, he could do what he was now certain he was destined to do all along: to find and stop the monster, Ardat Lilith.