The Gift of Volkeye (11 page)

Nhad was aghast at the horrific soliloquy. Never before now could he even fathom the existence of such a person. He was quite relieved when Phyllamon stepped away from him. Now his only wish was for Mother Nature to hastily take him, so that he could maintain some of his dignity.

Please hurry,
he prayed.

“Son, I believe it’s time for him to learn his lesson,” Phyllamon said.

Felix, smiling wide, was quite elated with Nhad’s torture. As he walked over to him, their eyes met.

“Toldja’ you were gonna get it, you stingy shit!” Felix smiled.

He pulled a large handgun from the holster of the beast with bad teeth, and looked to his father in a questioning manner.

“How does it work?”

“See the lever on the side? …Pull it up.”

Felix did so.

“Now, do you see how that red light is glowing?”

“Yes.”

“That means that the safety is off. Now you can fire…but stand back at bit, so that you don’t get dirty.”

“Where should I shoot?”

“Anywhere you want. This is your show—have fun!”

Through his weak, fluttering eyelids, Nhad could see a large crowd of people coming towards the flaming spectacle. They’d heard the explosion. Good. He knew now that word would get to Bahzee.

Get away, Baz.

This was the last thought to cross his mind before dying, whilst dangling in the air.

Felix noticed that Nhad’s head had gone limp, refusing him what he wanted once again. The stingy bastard had died, but still bested him, expiring before he could do his vicious part.

“Waaahhhh!”
Felix wailed, resorting to one of his juvenile fits for the second time that day. He raised the gun and fired until the clip was empty. When the bullets were gone, he laid on the ground, kicking and screaming…again.

**

Word had gotten to Asha quickly. After her first experience with Phyllamon, she knew to not take chances with her daughter’s life. She hastily packed up their necessities and set out a few plastic gasoline jugs with shotgun shells taped to the sides. Once outdoors, she tossed a grenade through the window and didn’t even wait to see the explosion before disappearing into the deep of the forest with her daughter.

They fled Mashyuvah.

3

“You understand? You can’t…you’ll bring hell upon us.”

Though she was still fantasizing about a slow torture for both Phyllamon and Felix, Bahzee nodded.

“I hate them, too, and I would die fighting if necessary, but…only
if
it came to that.”

It took a moment for Bahzee to stop scowling, but soon enough she cracked a smile. All serious matters aside, she and Khyeryn turned to the stove, licking their lips as they opened the oven door to see if the bread was done. They inhaled with bliss.

Ahhhhhhh!

Bahzee put on some mitts and pulled the tray half way out, gazing at the bread as it popped and crackled from the heat. The chocolate chips and the glaze of butter had melted over the edges of the bread and compiled into a gooey, delicious mess at the bottom of the pan.

Salivating, they simultaneously yelled,
“Mom, the bread is done!”

They pulled it out of the stove and sat the tray on the counter, watching the bread expand and contract while cooling.

Then they heard the bathroom door open, and Asha made her way down the hallway, soon stepping into the kitchen. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore no makeup, except for a hint of light burgundy lipstick. Asha was garbed in a black silk house gown, which had a long slit up the middle, showing off her legs as she glided over the tiles.

Asha walked to Khyeryn, kissed his forehead and gave him a hug. Then she let go and glanced curiously about the room.

Khyeryn felt terrible now. “Mom, I’m sorry, Dad’s not here.” He sighed.

“Oh, okay…that’s all right. How are you, Khyeryn?” Asha said joyously but with noticeable disappointment. Seeing that she had upset Khyeryn, Asha perked up.

“Really, it’s okay. I just miss him that’s all.” Asha smiled. At this point, there was no sense in pretending as if the children didn’t know. “How is Zynathian?”

“He’s great…he’s always talking about you!”

“Really? …

Go ahead, ask him!

“What’s he been saying?”

As the three sat and ate, they passed information on:
Who said what?
Who flirted with who more?
How often did one talk about the other? How many times had they kissed?
…and so on. Once during the conversation, Khyeryn had become cheerful and bold enough to ask Asha when she and his father were going to get married or at least jump in the sack. This broke Asha and Bahzee up with laughter.

After the lengthy gossip session, Asha realized that Khyeryn had not seen her latest and got up to show him.

“Come with me. I have something for you to see.”

Asha led Khyeryn to a small studio at the back of the cottage. They came to a massive oak table, pushed snug against the far wall. It rested beneath a large window for purposes of working with natural light. Atop it was an object covered with a white cloth. Khyeryn smirked, thinking that it looked like a miniature ghost, but knowing that there was more to it than what met the eye. He leaned close with anticipation, and then Asha unveiled it.

“Aw, Mom, that’s the best one yet! It’s beautiful!”

It was another one of Asha’s resin sculptures. This one was a man standing on a mound of rocks, which appeared to be the peak of a mountain. He held a staff in his left hand, and his entire right arm was immersed in a glow, as if he had some kind of magykal power. Looking more closely, Khyeryn noticed that there were sparks of reddish-yellow flames coming out of his right hand. The character wore a long robe and looked upward to what Khyeryn guessed, in his world, would’ve been the sky. The figure’s face carried an expression of haste and seriousness, and if his assumption of a ‘wizard’ was correct, Khyeryn supposed that the man was casting a spell.

“You like it? His name is
‘DyNavah.’
”

“He’s from
what’s his name’s
stories, isn’t he? …That PoisonTongue guy!”

Asha nodded.

“Lyn reads those…I haven’t gotten around to them yet. You’re amazing, Asha. I wish Dad was here to see it.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll see it soon, because if he doesn’t get his ass down here in the next several days, he knows I’ll have to whack him upside his head! …And you can tell him that I said so!”

They all laughed. Then Khye looked out the window, realizing that the hours were slipping away from him.

“Blast, I gotta’ get going. I have to run into Mashyuvah and get Lynnie’s birthday present.

“Really? What are you looking for?”

“Well, I wanted something fantasy related, because she’s so into those types of stories.”

Asha frowned, trying to remember if she’d thrown it away. She went digging around and found that she hadn’t. She went inside a wooden chest in the corner and unwrapped a miniature version of the large sculpture on the table.

“Here, give this to her,” Asha said. “This is my mock up. Take it…I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

“Whoa, thanks!”

Khyeryn observed the mini sculpture—it matched the large one down to the last detail. The only difference with the one he held was that DyNavah’s cloak was painted blue, as opposed to red in the big one.

“You’re very welcome, love.”

Curious, Khyeryn looked around the room, knowing that Asha had more than just one
hobby.

“Any new guns?”

“No, not this time, dear. I’ve been too busy with the new sculpture.”

As in love with Asha as Zynathian was this was one aspect of her persona that he could’ve done without. Besides being a sculptress, she was an armour and weaponsmith, specializing in guns and explosives. Unbeknownst to her, there was no soul in the whole of Elum that could match her ability. Zynathian, however, wasn’t as naive about her talent as she was. From the first moment that she showed him her work, he knew that (in an unsettling sense) Asha, too, was a genius.

She made a good living off her weapons sales and combat training in Rhameeryla, as most of her neighbours were stocking up for their imaginary revolution against Phyllamon Xyecah. Thinking that the town’s people lacked the conviction of their words, Asha trained them merely to quell their insecurity. However, she made sure to keep her own gunmanship up to par.

Khyeryn smiled at Asha. “My father doesn’t like your guns, does he?”

“It’s not the guns themselves that he has a problem with. It’s the fact that if danger ever came in the direction of someone I love, rather than running, I’d more than likely blow that danger’s head off. Zynathian doesn’t want violence around me, that’s all.” She sighed with affection.

“I don’t blame him. You could get hurt or worse, and what would the world do without one of its greatest souls?”

Asha smiled.

“Thank you, hon,” she said and kissed his forehead. “You better take Lynnie’s present and scoot. I promise not to say anything, but no more leaving the house without permission…and definitely not
without Lyn Sha! You hear me, boy? You know the rule!”

Beware the bald man with the
unibrow!
How could he forget it? He’d been reciting it since he was able to talk.

“Yes,
Mother
.” Khyeryn smiled, shaking his head.

He grabbed the sculpture, padded it with several pieces of fluffy cloth that Asha gave him, and stuffed it in his canvas sack. Khyeryn wrapped himself up again then ran and hugged Asha.

“I’ll see you soon, okay…and if you hear from Teshunua, tell him that I miss him and to contact us as soon as he gets back.”

“Okay, Khye. Be good.”

“Come on, butthead…I’ll walk you out,” Bahzee said, grabbing her coat.

When they opened the door, a frigid gust of wind blew inside, and Asha waved, running to take cover from the wind.

“Sorry, Mom,” Bahzee said, pulling the door shut.

It had gotten very cold over the last few hours. The air howled and wisped through the trees of the forest, and the clouds were so dark, Mother Nature looked as if she was about to raise hell.

Bahzee and Khyeryn stood amazed at the eeriness of the day. To two people, who’d just come from the inside of a home filled with love and warmth, the elements that they met upon opening the door seemed quite strange. Anyone superstitious would’ve said that the mood of the day was a perfect complement to the horrible cascade of events that would manifest over the next five minutes.

Jalum, awake and impatient now, gave a loud squawk in the kids’ direction, which they understood as
“Hello…it’s nice to see you, Baz, but Khyeryn and I really need to get moving! Get your ass over here, boy!”

Knowing that Jalum was serious whenever he gave orders, they didn’t make light of his mandate and quickly said their goodbyes. However, as they hugged and kissed, they had no idea that another pair of eyes besides Asha’s was watching them. An overwhelming amount of jealousy swelled within a certain person.

Khyeryn walked to Jalum and put the sack containing Lyn Sha’s gift inside of a pouch attached to Jay’s saddle. He mounted Jalum and waved to Bahzee, then, in one bound, the two of them were soaring above the trees.

As Bahzee watched them disappear, her hair carried on wildly in the furious wind, landing over her eyes as the elements settled a moment. Upon clearing her line of sight, she discovered that she had company—a most unwelcome visitor, who’d been hiding behind a tree.

She sighed and rolled her eyes.
My goodness, is there no escaping him?

“What do you want, Felix?”

Bahzee looked over at the window and noticed that Asha was watching, undoubtedly worried to death. Knowing that her mother was probably armed, she took care to not give her any reason to come out firing.

(Inside, Asha released the safety of the weapon in her hands.)

“What do I want? I want you to stop cheating on me, you lousy whore! Who in the blazing fires of hell was that?” Felix pointed at the sky.

Bahzee began to crack her knuckles—a nervous habit she had whenever her temper fired up.

Please don’t hit him…please don’t hit him…please don’t hit him. Like Khyeryn said, it won’t bring anything good. Don’t knock the crap out of him, Baz, please! You’re strong—you can resist this. Even though you could do it with such ease…even though he more than deserves it, do NOT whip his ass! …And for the sake of all that is holy, please don’t
KILL
him!

While Bahzee silently meditated, eyes closed, she couldn’t help but wonder who the hell this fool was to question her relationships with other males? Did this arrogant, murdering buffoon actually believe that he could win her heart? How so?

I don’t think that he shall ever succeed by calling me a ‘lousy whore!’