The Protector of Esparia (The Annals of Esparia Book 1) (5 page)

“What a great lamp.  I could have used one of these in that whirling tunnel.  And speaking of tunnels…” she surveyed her new shelter. 

This was indeed a small cave.  Vines covered with long, thin, lime-green leaves covered the entrance.  The cavern, however, was not gouged from stone, but was a man-made earthen dugout, reinforced with rib-like timbers.  Hardened, jet-black dirt formed the floor, walls and ceiling of the enclosure.  Undisturbed spider webs hung from the wooden supports and tufts of aqua-green moss grew around the entrance.

Rummaging through the contents of the cloth sack, Jessica removed the leather flask and several of the small packages.  She unraveled two of them.  Chunks of salted, dried meat were in the first and what looked like dried green fruit, and bread wafers in the second.  “Are you hungry or thirsty?”  She offered some meat and fruit to Varnack, but he shook his head. 

“Me neither, just tired,” she yawned involuntarily.  “Ya know, I’m trying to decide if I should freak out…or not.” 

Varnack padded to her side and without warning pushed her with his mighty head.  She fell over with a thud, barely able to keep her grasp on the food in her hands.

“What was that for!” she yelled at him in shocked surprise.

“Sleep.”

She stared at him, her annoyance bubbling to the surface.  “Fine.”  She muttered and jammed the food back into the cloth sack.  “I had perfectly good hysterics all ready to go and you pushed them right out of me.”  Jessica took off her jacket.  Using it as a barrier between her hair and the dirty floor, she laid down to rest.

In the quiet of the cave, with the soft, rhythmic splatter of the rain outside, Jessica’s mind wandered over her predicament.  “My dad’s going to be worried sick when he finds I’m gone.  He’ll never know where I am.  I don’t even know where I am!” 

Varnack did not respond, but trotted to the cave entrance.  He inclined his head toward the bushes and closed his eyes. 

“What are you listening for?”  A low sense of danger dabbed at the edges of her imagination.  Watching the great hound, she realized if someone were to surprise them, they would be in for quite a thrashing.  She would not want to tangle with Varnack. 

After several minutes, he opened his eyes. 

“Well?  What did you hear?”

He shook his head.  “Safe.”

“Your name, Varnack, that’s a pretty cool name.”  Before she really thought, she blurted out.  “Hey, could I call you V-dawg?”  She put a lot of attitude into the appellation, complete with rapper-like hand gestures.

The mighty animal was trotting from the cave entrance to another small pile of supplies when she made her comment.  He stopped in his tracks, his front paw in mid-air.  He slowly turned his head and stared, unblinking at her.

“Oh…um…well,” she sputtered, “Never mind.”

He gave a curt nod before continuing to the pile.  He seized a blanket in his teeth and brought it over to her.

“Where am I?”

“Planet Edia.  Country Esparia.”

“Can I
ever
go home?” 

He curled up next to her, his warmth, along with the blanket, helping her relax.  “Don’t know.” 

The answer came as a surprise, but if he didn’t know, then there was still hope.  The jar’s light gave simple comfort from the surrounding darkness.  She was exhausted, completely exhausted.  Panic…fear…She knew she should be feeling both emotions, but she simply did not have the energy.  Maybe tomorrow she could freak out.  Within moments, she fell asleep.

For the third time in two days, Jessica found herself surrounded by dream mist. 
Not again.
  Passing her hand through the phantom fog she felt disheartened.  Yes, it was the same stuff.  Knowing motion would prove no danger, she closed her eyes and pressed forward.  With sight of little use in this murky, impenetrable cloud, its elimination allowed her to better concentrate on her sense of hearing.  After traveling for what seemed an hour through the endless vapor, she finally caught the low drone of men’s voices and turned toward them. 

To her surprise, the closer she approached the voices, the colder the dense fog became.  This was new.   She folded her arms across her chest.  When she drew near enough to hear the men, she knelt down into a tight ball, trying to conserve her body heat. 

“Victory is mine,” an icy voice proclaimed.  “Haesom is gone, and Larone cannot hold Esparia together.  Your information gave my force the edge it needed.  The Dorsett fell with little effort.”  He gave a small laugh.  “My Elitet are thirsty for more victories.  You’ve done well.”

Jessica was grateful she was curled up, because her legs went weak at the sound of this familiar voice.   

“Thank you, My Lord.   As you know, I’m privy to many confidences at Ramadine and I’ve come with startling news."

“I already know Larone has summoned his brother.”  Daenon sounded confident.

"Yes, Anton’s at Ramadine, but this is not what I’ve learned."

“Well?  What's this news that's so urgent you rushed here, against my orders, to tell me?”

“I’ve learned the Protectors are not all dead.” 

“What?” Daenon snapped.  “Explain yourself!” 

“An heir of Graesion’s still lives.  Larone and Anton have conspired to bring him here.” 

“That’s impossible!  Haesom’s sons are dead.”

“Yes, my Lord, but his younger sister lived.”

“What?”  The question was barely a whisper.

“Haesom wanted everyone to believe she died, but his sister lived.”

Someone paced on a carpeted floor.  The rhythmic thumping of his feet betrayed uneasiness.

“Only one heir?” Deanon asked.

“That’s my understanding.”

“You said, ‘him’.  How do you know this protector is male? 

“Well…I just assumed…”  The voice trailed off.

“Idiot!  Never assume anything!  Haesom’s sister…Shallenon was her name…would be fifty by now.”  The pacing suddenly stopped.  “In what manner does she come?  By land?  By sea?  By magic?”

“That, I…I also do not know.”  The man’s voice held real fear.

“You come with no details?  Where has she been hiding all this time?”

“My Lord, I…I…”  The informer barely whispered.

“You fool!”  A loud smack caused Jessica to flinch.  She tried in vain to see through the thick cloud swirling around her.  The pacing began again.  "How certain are you that this information is accurate?  Could this be one of Larone’s ploys?  Are you suspected?”

“No.  I believe my authority is still without question.  I’m always your faithful eyes and ears, my Lord.”  Under the persuasive tones of this smooth voice Jessica could sense alarm.
Oh this guy’s good…oily and reeking of insincerity.  I wonder if Daenon will even notice.

“Remember, once in my service, always in my service.  Never give me cause to regret our arrangement.”  The cold edge in the voice sent a shiver up Jessica’s back.  “Go back to Ramadine and learn details.  I’ll begin an immediate search.  The teams I’ve sent to kill Larone must now be diverted to find Shallenon.  She must be found before we attack.  I want no Protector leading or even inspiring these people.”

“Yes, Lord Daenon.  I’ll learn all I can, I swear.”

“Don’t get caught.  Now go.”

The retreating footsteps of the informer faded away, but the dull, rhythmic pacing continued.  She counted each stride.  One, two, three, swish…One, two, three swish
.

“I will not be denied my victory by some brat of Graesion’s.”  Daenon spoke aloud.  The pacing stopped.  “The green persite.  I wonder if her coming caused it to glow.”  His heavy footsteps echoed off into the distance. 

Jessica shivered in the cold fog.  It was time to find a way out, but… where was ‘out’?  The chill set deeper into her bones and her fingers were numb.  Warmth, she needed to find warm.  She started to run.  Faster and faster, her speed increased.  She tried to escape from the mist and the terrifying cold.

In the first mist-vision, Sneakers incessant purring opened a channel to reality and with the sauna experience, Sophia’s call pulled her back home.  Now, however, she did not know where to find ‘home’.  Fighting the rising tide of panic, she tried to remember where she had last been.  A cave…the remarkable dog.  The dog!  She seized upon the thought. 
Varnack!  Help!  I’m trapped!

Within seconds, Jessica felt herself rolling over and over.  Something warm and moist touched her cheek.  An inner voice called, bringing her out from the icy prison.  Her eyes flew open.  Varnack’s face filled her field of vision, his nose nearly touching hers.  Throwing her arms around his neck, she clung to him.  He crouched next to her, not pulling away until she herself broke the embrace. 

“You heard me.  Thank you,” she managed to whisper.  He licked her cheek.

Gaylee Goes Home

John was in deep sleep when a scream jolted him awake.  He sat straight up, his heart pounding.  His pulse raced.  “What the…”  It took him a few seconds to recognize his room, and when he finally did, he flopped back onto his pillow. 

“I
never
dream,” he muttered half-awake.  “Never.”  The clock showed twelve forty-three.  Stumbling out of bed, he shuffled over to the window which overlooked the driveway.  Jess’s car was there, so she was home.  He listened, but the house was quiet.  He crawled back into bed.  Like a dull barb, unease prodded at the edges of his consciousness, but he could not identify the nagging discomfort.  While he lay there, trying to fall back to sleep, he thought of Jessica.  His little girl was growing up, graduated today.  Soon she would move away to school.  He turned onto his side.  He should have been there more.  He would make it up, travel this summer.  That’s it.  Show he cared…give his time.

* * *

The kitchen lay in early morning shadow.  John crossed to the bay window next to the door and pulled the wooden blinds.  “Huh, Jess always pulls these.”  The usual ‘gone running’ note was not on the refrigerator door. 

She must be sleeping in.  She would be bouncing down any minute and then he would hit her up about the summer.  They could ask Grandma Gaylee to come with them.  There would be Disneyland… no…no, maybe eight years ago.  Perhaps New York, see some plays, shop, whatever Jess wanted to do.

A half an hour later he still sat alone at the round kitchen table, a half glass of tomato juice accompanied by a piece of cold, partially nibbled toast were in front of him.  The morning paper lay open on his lap, but he found it difficult to concentrate.  Where was she?  He wanted to hear about the party and tell her about the planned trip before he left.  The clock on the microwave showed 7:50.  He would check on her.  He had barely passed through the kitchen threshold into the hallway when the side door dead bolt turned and Sophia strolled in. 

Humming the last few bars of ‘Amazing Grace’, she spotted John.  The tune died in her throat.  “Dr. John, you’re still here.”  She hurried over to him.  “Are you ill?”

“Sophia, could you go check on Jess?”  He held his voice calm.  “She’s not down yet, and that’s not like her.  I was about to go up myself, but since you’re here…in case she’s in the shower or dressing.”

“No problem, I’ll be right back.”  She slipped past him and hurried up the stairs.  John went to the granite counter.  He absently brushed a few toast crumbs onto the tiled floor.  Sophia was back in less than a minute, her brows knit together in concern.  “Her bed hasn’t been slept in.” 

“Are you sure?  Maybe she made it already.”

Sophia shook her head.  “I know it hasn’t been slept in because as a surprise, I placed a rose on her pillow yesterday.  The rose is still there, right where I put it.”

Sophia’s normally ruddy face lost its’ color, fear filled her eyes.  John's pulse increased.  His mouth went dry.  Without a word he walked out the kitchen door and straight to Jessica’s car.  The doors were locked.  Her wallet and party bag were on the backseat, nothing seemed out of place.  He circled the automobile twice, checking everywhere, but found nothing suspicious. 

“What are you doing?” Sophia watched from the kitchen doorway, wringing her hands.  “Should I call the police?”

John did not immediately respond.  How could he tell her he was looking for scuffmarks or dents or even blood?  “I’m looking for some sign, some clue of what could have happened.”  Slowly, he walked up the brick path leading from the driveway to the kitchen entrance.  Not an inch of ground escaped his scrutiny.  There was nothing unusual, until he reached the door.  On a rosebush under the bay window, dangling from a small branch, were Jessica’s car keys. 

“At least she made it to the door.”  He pointed to the keys, but did not touch them, they were evidence.  What an idiot!  He hadn’t dreamed the scream, he’d actually heard it.  Why did he assume things were all right last night?  Why didn’t he look in her room!  Shame, disgust, but most of all guilt welled up inside of him.  Shaking his head, he rushed past Sophia and went to the phone.  “I’m calling the police.”  When he reached for the receiver, the sound of screeching tires on the driveway filtered into the kitchen. 

John hesitated, his hand in mid-air.  “Who?”  He glanced toward the door.  Sophia still stood in the opening.

“Gaylee!”  Agitation filled Sophia’s voice.  “Jessica, she’s missing!”

“I know!”

John turned to face his mother-in-law when she ran into the house.  “You know?” His heart nearly stopped.  “Where is she?”

An athletic woman with a pleasant, but no nonsense manner, Gayleena Saylon never ceased to intrigue John.  Always carrying herself with poise and confidence, she personified elegance.  By her own admission, she had seen nearly eighty-three years of life, but she did not look a day over fifty.  Her short, bright red hair was barely showing signs of gray.  Her attractive face carried but a few forehead wrinkles while several small crow’s feet creased the edges of her sapphire blue eyes.  Tall, though not quite as tall as Jessica, she emitted a noble air.  She never interfered in John’s life, but always managed to call or show up just when he needed a friend the most.

“John.”  She hugged him.

“So where’s Jess?”

“On Edia, my home world.”  She said it matter-of-factly, as if he should know what she meant. 

“Your what?” he stammered. 

“Sophia, here.”  Gaylee handed her friend a thick manila envelope.  “Those are legal papers, giving you and Jacob power of attorney over my estate.  Pull out the top paper, that’s the one John needs to sign.”

“Gaylee!”  John was thoroughly confused.  “Where’s Jess?  Explain yourself.”

She appeared to not have heard him, for she crossed the kitchen and began rummaging through a small broom closet next to the bay window.

“What are you doing?” he demanded.

“Looking for your gun.  Sophia,” she ordered, “get me a fresh shirt or two for Jessica, and a pair of her jeans.  You know she’s our fashion princess, so get her favorites.  We’ll take those with us.”  Without a word Sophia left the kitchen.  “And grab a fresh shirt for John while you’re at it,” she yelled after her.

John, feeling thoroughly irritated, grabbed her arm.  “Have you lost your mind?  Where is Jessica?”

Gaylee pulled her arm free and faced him.  “John, I’ve never lied to you before.  I don’t plan on doing it now, but there’s a lot about me you don’t know.  I can explain later, when we have more time, but I don’t know how much longer the portal will be active, so we need to hurry.  I came here…here as in Earth…fifty years ago with Shallenon, when she was just a new born baby.”  Gaylee turned back to the closet and pulled a box off the top shelf.  “My home was under attack.  My husband died in the battle, but my two uncles were able to save me and Shallenon by sending us here.”  She pulled the gun, a 9mm Beretta semi-automatic pistol, from the box.  “Where’s the ammunition?” 

He glared at her.  “What?”

“Ammunition…where is it?”

He reached around her and grabbed a box of bullets.

She snatched a small duffle bag hanging from a closet hook.  “I left my country behind,” she talked while packing the gun and bullets in the bag, “my uncles, and my son.”

“Your son?”  Sophia had just entered the room.  In her arms were an assortment of shirts and pants, both Jessica’s and John’s.  “You left a son in Esparia?”  She deposited the clothes on the table.

“I never told you, Sophia.  It was too painful to talk about.  Haesom.  My little boy.”  Gaylee plucked two shirts and a pair of jeans from the pile and stuffed them in the duffle bag. 

John was at a loss.  “Haesom?  But Jessica…”

“…thought he was made up.”  Gaylee finished the thought.  “She assumed her dreams were in response to her mom’s death, but they were very real.  Haesom was her uncle, Shallenon’s older brother.”  Gaylee stopped packing.  “And two nights ago she saw them murdered.”  Her shoulders drooped and she took a long, deep breath.  “Which of these shirts do you want?”  She held up a button up and a pull-over.

John ignored her and turned on Sophia.  “What’s Esparia?”

“Her country…Gaylee was a Protector.”

“Since Shallenon’s dead, and now Haesom and his family are gone, the birthright falls to Jessica.  She’s the last of the Saylon blood line.”  Gaylee managed to cram both shirts into the bag.  She zipped it and thrust it at John’s chest.  He instinctively caught it.  “Will you sign that paper already?  We need to go
now
.”

John had never seen his mother-in-law so agitated.  He slung the bag’s strap over his shoulder, grabbed a pen lying on the counter top and scribbled his name on the legal document.

“Okay, I’ve signed.”  John put his hand on Gaylee’s shoulder.  “Where do you think we’re going?”  His voice was calm, quiet.  He knew she had snapped.

“To Edia…To Esparia…To where ever my uncles took Jessica.  We’re going to follow her.  I’m going home.”  She looked around the kitchen.  “Where’s your first aid kit?”

John pointed to a kitchen cupboard.  He looked to Sophia, hoping for some help, but she was weeping into a dish towel.

“I’m going to miss you Gaylee,” the smaller woman sobbed. 

Gaylee paused after retrieving the small pack of medical supplies and put her arms around her friend.  She kissed her forehead.  She too had tears in her eyes.  “Tell Jacob good-bye.”  Sophia silently nodded.

Gaylee walked out the open kitchen door, down the path to where the cars were parked in the driveway.  John watched from the bay window as she retrieved a hooded cape from her auto.

Sophia stood beside him.  “She’s telling you the truth.  I know her whole story.”

“Hey, you two,” Gaylee called.  “Come out here, and Sophia, be sure to close the door behind you.”

John shook his head, feeling completely bewildered, but decided to humor the woman.   He would go along with her delusions, only to prove them false, before calling a psychiatrist.  Sophia closed the door behind them and scurried to safety behind John’s car.  There was fear on her face as she crouched behind the vehicle.

John poked the first aid pack into the duffle, then he and Gaylee walked from the cars, up the brick path to the kitchen entrance.  At the door, Gaylee felt around the trim, the deadbolt and the door itself.  Nothing happened.

The brass handle remained the only hardware untouched.  “How appropriate,” she murmured, “a doorknob is the link to another world.”  She stared at the latch, her body rigid.  She gripped her cape so hard her knuckles turned white.

“So, what now?”  John was losing patience.  He really wanted to make that 911 call.

“Jessica didn’t tell you about all of her dreams from the other night, did she?”

“More dreams than Haesom’s death?”

Gaylee nodded.  “My uncle said that he set the mechanism with his own life force, so only family could activate it.  If he hasn’t shut it down yet, then this should work.”  Reaching out, Gaylee touched the metal knob.  The moment her fingers connected, a small arc of electricity jumped from the metal to her hand and from her hand to John’s leg.  His muscle involuntarily contracted when the shock connected with his body. 

A low rumble came from the other side of the door, like the soft purr of a contented kitten, but within seconds it increased in volume and intensity.  The door trembled.  John thought an earthquake had hit, but then the door dissolved away.  Each molecule was drawn backward with such rapidity that it took only a few moments for the entire wooden structure to disappear.

John stared, open mouthed, in disbelief.  He heard Sophia call from behind the car.  “Good-bye.  I’ll take care of everything here.”

A black oval materialized where the kitchen should have been.  The shrill sound of rushing air exploded around them, immediately followed by a faraway whistle.  Gaylee grabbed John’s arm, her nails dug into his flesh.  “I nearly died the last time I was in this thing,” she yelled into his ear.

“What?  You never said anything about dying!”

As the distant whistle grew in volume, an iridescent funnel of wildly spinning air appeared deep inside the hollow.  The rotating cone hurtled forward until it reached the mouth of the opening.  John glanced over at Gaylee.  Her eyes were closed, her mouth was pinched tight.

He stared back at the hole to see the inside of a wild twister.  Together, they were sucked into the funnel.  Side-by-side, the two shot through the long dark tube.  A loud, high-pitched swishing sound filled the conduit.  Nothing in his previous life experience could be remotely compared to the reality of the spiral.  He closed his eyes.  Now he understood why Jessica screamed.  She must have been terrified!  He gulped at the air, trying to push enough oxygen into his lungs to avoid passing out.  It took every ounce of concentration to control the buzzing in his head.  His muscles cramped, his ears rang, and he wanted to throw up.  With each passing second, he felt the powerful, forward pull on his body, as if he were attached to the end of a tightly stretched elastic string, snapping back at lightning speed to its point of origin.