Chapter 3

A little deeper we plunge now, down into the depths of the plot.

CHAPTER 3

 

 

     Jalil hadn’t bothered to shake her hand or to reintroduce himself in front of the fountain. Instead he had reprimanded her for not taking initiative and finding him last night when she had arrived. How he had known she was there last night was beyond her, but the fact that he thought he could reprimand her like some child had not went over well at all. She was preparing to tell him just what she felt about his delusional authority, when he turned his back and walked away from her. She had stared at his fleeting back for a good twenty seconds before her anger got the best of her and she rushed after him.

      “Are all messengers this rude or is it just you?” He didn’t say anything, just walked on with his eyes trained in front of him. For a minute she had thought he hadn’t heard her, but then he spoke.

       “Forgive me. I have not been around humans for the past three hundred years. I have forgotten the methods of humanity. It is customary for a handshake upon greets.” He stopped walking so abruptly, she barely had time to avoid colliding with his backside. He turned and extended his hand. She looked at it for a moment. From his hand to his face and back. It was only a moments hesitation. Her own hand reached out to grasp his.

His hand was warm. She had, for some reason, expected it to be…she didn’t know exactly. Inhuman maybe. He was a being from another plane, after all.

     “This is adequate behavior for a human, yes.” It wasn’t a question. She responded anyhow.

    “Yes. Yes this is fine.” She couldn’t bring herself to say anything else, because within the five seconds that they had touched hands, something had passed between them. She had felt it, like a tiny prickling sensation on the back of her neck. It was rather unnerving. If he had been hit by the same feeling, he hadn’t shown it. He still possessed the same stoic expression.

    “Now that greetings are over, I assume we may presume our search?” A question.

    “Um, yes. Yes, we can continue.” He was an odd one, this messenger. If all messengers were as bizarre as him, then she hoped to never meet another again for a very long time.

   They pushed onward throughout the city for another two hours before he finally decided to stop. No doubt realizing that he had forgotten another tradition of humans. Eating. They had been out by the docks, asking questions of the docking master, when Lily’s stomach had let out an unflattering, unfeminine growl. It had been loud enough for him to hear a mere two feet away. He had looked at her, for the first time, without that impassive expression. His expression was funny actually. He looked horrified, and upon seeing the expression, Lily had burst into laughter. It was the first time she had laughed, wholly laughed, in three years. Sure she had chuckled at certain things while in the sisterhood, giggled every now and then, but she had not laughed a true, from the stomach laugh, in three years.

      He hadn’t said much since that moment. He had looked at her with those all knowing eyes of his, said not a word to her, thanked the docking master, and then usher them away. They were now seated at a table in Mallory, an Italian restaurant. Lily had always wanted to partake there. Jalil sat across from her staring mindlessly, almost as if the thought of food was foreign.

     “I take it spirits don’t eat?”

     “We do. Although I doubt our choice sustenance is the same as yours.”

    “Really? What do you normally eat in the Spirit World?”

    “Weaker spirits.”

    “Oh.” Ask and you shall receive. Some things should just never be asked.“So, um, I take it you aren’t going to be eating? Can you…eat I mean?”

    “I can. Because I possess this human body, I must be able to digest and provide for it the nourishments it requires. I just do not know what any of these foods are.”

    “Seriously, you’ve never ate Italian? Pasta?”

    “I was born in Egypt.” That was all he said. Nothing else. Well, what else was for him to say. Egypt didn’t really have a supply of pasta materials, did it? She didn’t know, and she didn’t bother to dwell on it. A woman, no doubt the owner, came over to greet them and asked for their food wants.

ô ô ô ô

    Aileen skirted her way back through the crowds and out of eyeshot to where Lucien awaited her. His shaman’s abilities were apparently right. He had led them throughout the city, from their place of residence, to this quaint little shop bared within the heart of the city. She had been skeptical the whole way, until she got her own glimpse of the two. The male was quite attractive. His powers were rather striking as well. But it was the female that really piqued her interest. Just standing near the woman, Aileen had felt the energy radiating off her. She had power. Massive amounts of power, stored neatly, behind the facade of that scrawny little frame. The woman, if provoked, could more than likely do some major damage.

    “So?” Lucien was seated on the far side of the restaurant. A giant bowl of shrimp tortellini before him.

     “Yeah, that’s them, except it isn’t like you thought.” When they had tracked the pair down back the docks, Lucien’s first impressions had been that the woman was the weaker being and the man was the one with all the powers. “Your theory is a vice versa.”

     “What?”

     “It’s the woman.” Aileen shoved a hefty forkful of tortellini into her mouth and moaned. Lucien’s heartbeat skipped.

     “Um...so, you’re telling me that the woman is the one with all the power? What about the male? He feels weak. Fluttery like.”

     “Mm. He’s a spirit.”

     “What?” Well that was news he hadn’t expected. A spirit? This was colossal. A freaking spirit, walking around, living and breathing right here in Halcyon. Never had that happened, not in all the years he had been living here. And he had no doubt, that Aileen was right about her findings. That was her gift, after all. Aileen could identify anyone with a paranormal ability once she was close enough. She could identify power level, type, and if at all possible, as was the case with the spirit, origin.

     “Yeah. I wonder what he’s doing here. I mean, have you ever heard of a spirit wondering around in human form? No, so what’s up with that?” He didn’t know.

     “I don’t know, but I plan on finding out.”

     “So we’re tailing them?” Through the tortellini shoved in her mouth and the hand to cover it while she talked, Lucien knew there was a smile.

     “Oh yes, my dear. We are.” He reached out to grab his own fork. His eyes loomed across the room to the awkward, yet powerful pair. Oh yes, this was going to be a fun.

 

ô ô ô ô

     The room was dark. Dank. Dreary. There was an irrefutable smell of death hanging over her. The presence of evil. The presence of one who meant harm, she knew, for he walked the perimeter of the room as silent as death itself. She didn’t know where she was. Who had her? How had she gotten here? She couldn’t remember. Didn’t want to remember as it slowly resurfaced. She remembered.

     He had come upon her like a tidal wave, crashing her to the ground, and plummeting her into darkness. She knew the why of the action now as she felt him pace. He had power within his being. Power that was steady, steadier than her own. That was why he was here. Why he had her. That was why, and that was also how she knew, her life would end soon, unless by some God-given miracle.

Author's Note

If anyone read this before i went through to fix it, it's been fixed. I cannot stand for my paragraphs to not be indented.