Crossroads and the Dominion of Four Page 7

  “It burns!” Conner screamed. “It’s sizzling!”

  Shayna grabbed his arm, but he quickly pulled away.

  “No, Shayna, don’t touch me! Get back, ’cause it might get on you too. I think they’re spreading!”

  “Let me see it, Conner. Is it really that bad?” asked Shayna as she held her breath, and her heart tightened in anticipation. She knew the answer by the horrid look on his face. He was dripping in sweat. The blisters were throbbing and appeared to be multiplying.

  “It’s probably not as bad as it feels,” said Conner. “Those flying devils were spitting green fire at us. Some of it must have hit me.”

  “I could smell something foul each time they flew by, but I had no idea what was coming out of them,” said Shayna. “I was too disgusted to let them get close—their noises were nauseating.”

  “Each time I put my arm up to block, it seemed like they were intent on going after it.” Conner groaned as he raised his arm to get a better look at his injury.

  “Conner, that looks really bad. Seriously, it’s not good at all,” said Shayna.

  “I guess I was wrong. It is as bad as it feels,” moaned Conner. “My whole arm feels like it’s on fire.”

  “What are we going to do? I don’t know CPR. Where’re Jake and Seneca? This is so totally out of control right now!” said Shayna.

  “I’m not sure CPR would help. Probably first aid and maybe a doctor or two.”

  “No joking, Conner!” Shayna yelled. “You know what I mean. You need some major help. We are totally out of sync and clueless with this Otherworld.”

  Shayna took a step back and bumped into something hard. She turned around quickly as she readied to battle the threat, her sword illuminated in her grasp; it had appeared with a simple inhalation. She bit her bottom lip as she tilted her head upward to see bright, glowing green eyes staring down at her. She stumbled back a few steps but recovered quickly as she shifted into a defensive position.

  “I did not mean to startle you. However, you ought to remain aware as to the danger that surrounds you,” he said. His voice was deep and had a gruff tone.

  “Are you part of this so-called danger surrounding us and attacking us too?” Shayna asked. Her eyes narrowed.

  She closed both hands around the handle of the sword and eased closer to Conner. The blade’s brilliance intensified as she raised it above her head. She widened her stance, arched her back, and prepared to strike.

  “It is not I that you should worry about. I have taken the liberty to cast a protection charm that will shield you from detection. However, it is only temporary,” he said.

  Shayna remained focused on the stranger and refused to back down. She wasn’t taking any chances, especially not after all she had witnessed.

  “Oh—that’s good, right, Shayna?” Conner whispered. He did not feel up to asking questions or putting up a fight. He felt feverish and was on the brink of vomiting.

  Shayna shifted her eyes momentarily to Conner but didn’t reply. She held her breath as she surveyed the tall man. She was mesmerized by his handsome face and piercing eyes. She had never seen anyone with eyes so beautiful. She noted that they were a complementary contrast to his dark skin. He was dressed in a long black cloak with elaborate gold brocades that draped over the shoulders of the garment and reflected the dim moonlight. She could tell he was extremely muscular by his broad build. She caught a glimpse of his bulging biceps. She didn’t realize she was staring until he spoke.

  “Your friend needs immediate treatment. If the boils turn brown, there will be no stopping the spread of the bacteria. Once it reaches that point, it will infect all major organs. Death is inevitable if he’s not treated in time,” said the stranger.

  “Excuse me. Who are you? How do you—I mean, what are you saying?” stammered Shayna.

  “He said something about dying, I think,” said Conner, his voice nearly inaudible. His shirt was soaked in sweat and clung to him. He wanted desperately to discard it, but he was afraid there might be more blisters forming beneath. He didn’t think he could bear seeing more.

  Shayna remained transfixed by the stranger’s eyes. She quickly forgot where she was, the potential danger, and Conner’s need of assistance. Her brain told her not to trust the stranger, yet she knew in her heart that her instincts never betrayed her. She believed he was there to help. She lowered her sword but kept it visible as a warning.

  “I am Rileau,” he said. He bowed his head slightly. His expression showed no emotion, and his eyes stayed locked on Shayna’s. She shifted her weight and then stepped closer to Conner.

  “I’m Conner, and I’d shake your hand, dude, but I can barely raise it. This is Shayna. Are you friend or foe? Not that I could put up a fight at this point.” He felt weak and light-headed as he leaned against the nearest tree.

  “I am neither, but I mean you no harm. You were to be escorted to my dwelling to begin your lessons. I was made aware of the attack and came straight away,” said Rileau.

  “Who made you aware? And why didn’t you come sooner?” Shayna asked. She flexed her fingers around the grip of her sword. She could feel it heating up in her hand, as it did each time she used it.

  “I received word from Dreya. She tried to divert you away from the attack, but unfortunately, it was too late,” he replied. He lowered his head slightly, causing his long dark hair to drape forward. “I am sorry for your loss.”

  “You know about Dreya, my grandmother, don’t you? About what happened to her?” Shayna shook her head in an attempt to push away her sorrow.

  “Yes,” he replied. His eyes met hers as he allowed his acknowledgment to linger. He elected to say no more.

  “It was awful. They just kept attacking until she tumbled over into a deep ravine. I knew she was gone. There was nothing I could do. We tried to reach her, but it was too late,” Shayna said.

  She trembled as she recalled the tragedy, and her mind replayed it in slow motion. She and Conner had witnessed the horror of her grandmother’s death firsthand.

  “Then we had to fight like crazy because those flying rats came at us,” she said. “We took a lot of them out. I wanted to smash every single one of them!”

  Shayna realized he was allowing her the choice to continue rambling. He made no attempt to interrupt or pry for details. That was fine with her since she didn’t care to have the experience dissected. She knew she would not soon forget what she’d witnessed, and she would relive the dreadful experience repeatedly. It felt good to let her feelings out, because she hadn’t had a chance to mourn or even discuss the fact that her grandmother had fought ferociously to the end.

  “They killed her!” She allowed herself to say it out loud. Her tone was deadpan and sounded nothing like her. The reality of the entire ordeal washed over her. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can’t talk about this anymore!” Shayna shouted as she threw her arms into the air. Her voice carried through the trees. Slight rustling could be heard before all became quiet once again. The pain was too fresh and hurt deeply.

  “Understood,” he said. His eyes stayed fixed on hers.

  She cast her eyes away momentarily; he made her uneasy, but she believed he could be trusted.

  “Ahem! In pain here,” Conner said as he slid down the side of the tree until he came to rest at the trunk. He moaned in agony.

  “Reveal your injury,” Rileau commanded.

  He eased past Shayna to get closer to Conner. She made no attempt to stop his approach. She prayed that her instincts hadn’t betrayed her. Conner stretched out his arm. He grimaced from the excruciating pain. Rileau scanned it quickly but resisted making direct contact with the damaged skin.

  “Do you have other infected areas?” asked Rileau. His voice was calm and authoritative.

  “No, just my arm, I think. That’s enough—believe me,” said Conner. He cl
osed his eyes and pulled his arm close, cradling it against his chest. He had never experienced anything so painful. He muttered to himself as he trembled and groaned.

  “He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?” Shayna moved in to get a closer look at the blisters.

  “If we act quickly, I believe we can save his arm,” Rileau said flatly.

  “Save my arm? What are you saying? I could lose my arm?” Conner tried to stand up straight but remained hunched over. He stared at Rileau, who towered a good six inches above him. “Are you serious, dude? My arm?” He was panic-stricken and hoped he wasn’t hearing him correctly.

  “It would certainly be the first thing to go, followed by your life,” Rileau replied.

  His voice remained steady and serious. Conner began to feel faint. Shayna saw his eyes rolling back, and she reached out to steady him.

  “Breathe, Conner—you’re going to be fine,” she whispered. She was careful to avoid touching his arm, for fear of causing further injury. “We’ll get through this.”

  “He said I could lose my arm, Shayna. You know it’s my pitching arm. Or army. No, I would prefer being a marine, actually,” Conner said, slurring his words as his head rocked forward.

  “What are you saying?” asked Shayna. She noticed he wasn’t focusing on her but seemed to be drifting off to sleep. He slumped against the tree, and she guided him to a sitting position in the moist soil. “What’s wrong with him?” she asked as she turned to get answers from Rileau.

  “The fever is setting in. He will be quite delusional until he is treated properly.”

  “Eh, it’s a strike for me. Betta batter up!” Conner announced. His head rocked back and forth.

  “So, he’s going to talk gibberish? Is that what you’re saying?” Shayna asked.

  “I’m not familiar with the meaning of gibberish, but if it implies that he will be speaking incoherently, then yes, gibberish it is.” Rileau stepped away from Conner and began surveying the area.

  “What are you looking for? Those flying pests are long gone. I saw to that,” Shayna said. She knew she sounded smug, but she also felt it was an accurate assessment of the results.

  “I am in search of something to aid Conner,” he replied as he pushed back a hawthorn bush.

  Shayna noticed that he was unaffected; the thorns slid across his arms like feathers. His movements were deliberate and not clumsy in the least. He was large in stature but moved with regal ease and poise. She knew she was gawking and felt the sudden need to fill the silence with conversation.

  “Just to clarify, you’re our trainer?” Shayna asked.

  He turned toward her and smiled for the first time since they’d met. She couldn’t control the blush she felt rising in her cheeks and was thankful for the darkness. She suddenly panicked as she wondered if he had the gift of mind reading. Oh no, please, not that, she thought over and over.

  “I prefer mentor or teacher, as training implies that you are knowledgeable. From my observation, you each have much to learn in all areas of the Otherworld and your abilities,” said Rileau. He was stern and direct.

  Shayna didn’t follow his explanation, since all she could focus on was his physique. She thought he was the most perfect man she’d ever seen. She tried to think of a comparison to a movie star, model, or famous athlete but ultimately decided he was in a class of his own. His facial features were sculpted in perfect symmetry. His skin was flawless and masculine, and he had a square jawline and full lips. Those lips. Those eyes. She realized she was still staring when Rileau made a low growling sound. It jarred her out of the daydream. She wondered if she had said anything out loud. She was slightly embarrassed but also a bit peeved by the interruption.

  “I’m sorry. You were saying something about Conner’s injuries, right?” asked Shayna. Her voice quivered an octave too high. She sounded like a small child. It was not the impression she wanted to make. She couldn’t figure out what had come over her. She was not feeling like herself in that moment, but she didn’t want the sensation to stop.

  “Conner needs assistance. We cannot delay much longer. Do you comprehend, Shayna?” asked Rileau.

  He leaned in, inches from her face, and she nodded multiple times. Her mind flashed an image of her as a desktop bobblehead doll. She huffed in disgust.

  “Sure, I understand, but—” She stopped.

  Shayna didn’t really understand the situation, but she resisted talking more. All she knew was that she felt an unexplainable urge to know more about the handsome stranger, their teacher and mentor.

  “Good. Now I must locate the others before they perish,” said Rileau.

  “You mean they might die?” Shayna asked. She hoped she had misunderstood what she had heard.

  “The murkgoblins are uncompromising and vicious. They will not show mercy, as the fairies of the Terrain did. Once the fairies strike, they have a tendency to retreat. They are confident and acutely aware of their venom’s potency. That is not the case with the murkgoblins,” he explained. “They prey on anything that is pure when it crosses their path in the night.”

  “Murkgoblins,” Shayna repeated. “The name alone sounds awful.”

  “We defeated them in the bottom of the ninth, right?” Conner mumbled. He faced the tree as he continued his ramblings. “It’s gonna be a no-hitter for you, son, and no noise from the peanut gallery, eh? Do you hear me talking to you?”

  “It’s okay, Conner. No more noise from the gallery. Just sit down, and lean on that tree,” said Shayna as calmly as she could manage.

  “Okeydokey artichokie,” Conner replied as he slid his back down the side of the tree and collapsed on the ground. “Hello, tree.”

  Shayna smiled as she turned her attention back to Rileau. It was a serious situation, and she really needed to concentrate.

  “You were saying something about murkgoblins,” Shayna said. “They sound nasty.”

  “Yes, they are quite nasty, as they are creatures of filth. Presently, they are attacking your friends, and they will fight to the death,” said Rileau. “Murkgoblins are inherently vicious and reside as the Otherworld’s scavengers. They have no regard for life and are void of remorse.”

  “Are they like the things that came after us? Tiny little vicious gnats!”

  “Not in slightest,” he replied. “They are as big as men and are night dwellers that stay hidden by burrowing deep in the dampest areas of the earth and blending into the landscape. They can go undetected by even the most observant elementals, and they will emerge and attack without warning. This gives them an advantage to the dismay of their prey.”

  “Prey? They think that Seneca and Jake are their prey?” asked Shayna. “What are we waiting for? Let’s help them! Where do we go?” She was riddled with concern. Fighting off the flying fairies was bad enough, but this sounded much worse.

  “You must remain here with Conner, as he does not have much time,” said Rileau. “He has been exposed to the fairies’ deadly venom. I would surmise they targeted his arm in retaliation for the injury you inflicted upon Brigara.”

  “C’mon! She did that to herself. We didn’t tell her to try to jump across the threshold,” said Conner. He whistled a few notes and then shut his eyes.

  “He’s making sense now, and he’s right. She asked for it!” Shayna bellowed.

  “Ouch! This hurts seriously—no joke!” Conner cried. “Don’t poke at the blo—” He screamed out in distress and pain.

  His body shook violently. Several boils appeared on his arm, bubbling and throbbing as they spread unrestricted across exposed skin. The infected area began emitting an odor that prompted Conner to pull the top of his shirt over his nose and mouth in disgust. He moved to a fetal position and whimpered.

  “Oh, Conner,” said Shayna softly. “This is terrible. I’m sorry. Please try to calm down.”

  “It is futile to discus
s the particulars of the murkgoblins or Brigara at this moment. Shayna, retract your sword. You must grab a handful of leaves from the black currant bush just behind you,” instructed Rileau.

  “Hopefully they help with this major stench,” said Conner. “It is stinky, stinky. Oh yeah, so ooh la-la stinky.” He sang melodically. He lowered his shirt from his mouth slightly before quickly raising it again.

  “The evidence of a foul smell is the final stage prior to eruption,” said Rileau. “Shayna, your sword. You must disengage and gather the leaves now!”

  “Yeah, okay—fine!” she snapped.

  Shayna knew she was overreacting, but her response was an automatic reflex since she disliked taking orders from anyone. She hadn’t realized she was still in a battle stance with her sword drawn. She looked down at the sword, and it vanished. She was still not accustomed to having such an ability, and she couldn’t resist smirking in satisfaction. She lost focus momentarily as she recalled the first time she had used the sword to stop Brigara from crossing the threshold. She had never felt that much power in her life. Although she had a knack for always getting her way, she had never felt quite in control. Commanding the sword was different. It was a connection like no other. It made her feel grounded and secure.

  “Earth to Shayna. Time to log back in,” said Conner. He cleared his throat to draw her attention. “I believe it is suppertime, and then it’s off with his head!”

  “No, he has a rather nice head. Let’s leave it intact,” she said with a smirk.

  Conner whined slightly and shrugged. His face was absent of any color. Shayna was afraid he was close to dying. He was her friend, and she felt a surge of determination. She was not about to lose another person that evening—or ever again, if she could help it. She knelt down next to him and looked into his eyes.

  “Conner, you’re going to be okay. I promise,” she said as she smoothed his drenched hair away from his brow.

  She jumped to her feet and turned toward Rileau. He was looking down at her with a scowl. She hadn’t anticipated that reaction, and it caught her off guard.