Chapter 10 #2
Malik is staying with Balthazar—he’s a darkness like Balthazar.
I think he is under Balthazar’s tutelage.
He is intelligent and interesting. And handsome—so very handsome.
His eyes are a deep jade, the color found at the edge of a creek.
His long, lustrous hair hangs to his shoulders.
But I think his heart is bound to another’s as he looks at me with only the politest interest. We converse when Balthazar is not around.
When Balthazar is here, we act like strangers around one another.
Tonight, when Malik and I spoke after Balthazar had left the dining table, Malik told me he was in love with a woman named Layla. He said his love for her is helping him control the darkness inside.
“Oh!” I said, surprised by his confession. “So, you are a darkness, like Balthazar?”
I sipped the heady wine Balthazar had served us that night.
“Yes,” he said, but he didn’t elaborate. “Layla and I are trying to find a way to help or cure me, so I don’t have to kill to survive. “
“Wait, wait, you have to kill humans to survive?”
“Yes,” Malik said. “If we don’t kill people daily, we lose our strength and weaken. It’s a vicious cycle, and I’m trying to find a way with Layla to stop it. I love Layla and want to be with her, so I shall do what I can to control my hunger for killing.”
After learning what Malik told me, I understood why Balthazar murdered people. He needed strength to survive, and without killing, he would weaken. I told Malik we would help each other. So, we made a pact. But then, many days turned into months with no sign of Malik.
At dinner last night, I innocently asked where Malik was. “I haven’t seen your friend, Malik. Is he traveling?”
A fiendish look washed over Balthazar’s face.
“I got rid of him,” he said coldly. “He became a problem.”
I nodded and spoke of other things, but inside, I was deeply saddened. Malik had become my only friend; now he was gone, killed by my monster lover.
Since so many years had passed with us playing the same game of “flee and find,” Balthazar let me roam his estate.
It was as if he dared me to time travel.
On one occasion, when Balthazar left to conduct whatever madness suited his whims, I decided to explore.
I wandered through the house, trying locked doors, then moving to the next one.
It was a way to kill the boredom of this life.
I was tired of wandering the upper floors and took my search to what I thought would be the basement.
I descended stone stairs, using only a candle to light my way.
The air smelled damp and dank, peppered with foul odors.
I nearly stopped and turned around; the house seemed to be haunted.
When I stepped off the last stair, I peered through the gloom. This was no basement—it was a dungeon.
A single door constructed of iron and softly glowing, as if infused by magic, lay ahead. I cautiously moved toward it, certain an evil ghost, wraith, or devil would spring out at me. But as I approached, I only heard rasping, labored breathing coming from the cell.
“Hello?” I said through the small rectangular window to the room. It was so dark in there that I couldn’t see a thing. It smelled of human waste and vomit. I held my nose.
“Alina? Is that you?” came Malik’s weak reply.
“Malik!” My heart was overjoyed to hear the voice of my friend. I thought Balthazar had killed him.
On a wooden post, a set of keys was hanging.
“I found some keys! I can free you!” I seized the keys and fumbled with them to find one that fitted in the lock. As soon as the key touched the keyhole, a severe shock blasted my hand and arm.
The keys flew from my hand and landed with a jingling crash somewhere in the shadows.
“Don’t open the door!” Malik rasped. “You’ll be killed, and I don’t want you to die.”
I lifted the candle to the opening, trying to see inside. Malik sat hunched over his sick. His hair hung in greasy waves, and a sheen of sweat covered his grimy skin.
When he spoke, he couldn’t even hold up his head. It took extreme effort even to get a word out.
“Balthazar is using us. You’re trying to help him, but he’s too dark and evil.
He threw me in here because I became a threat to his plans.
You need to get away from him.” He paused to catch his breath.
“Layla is dead. Balthazar killed her. He slaughtered her in front of my eyes. I need you to save yourself.
“Layla and I found a way to help me. You must go and look for a man named John James. Time travel to the 1700s. John James is the only one who can help you.” Phlegmy coughs erupted from his throat.
“How can I find John James?” I clutched the candle holder so hard my knuckles were white.
Malik waved his hand at me, still consumed by his coughing fit. “1700s. Americas. John James,” was all he managed to say.
I raced up the dungeon stairs and hastened to my bedroom, where I prepared for bed. It took me nearly an hour to gather my composure. But when Balthazar pounded up the stairs, I had calmed my breathing and erratic heartbeat.
Balthazar flung open the bedroom door, which crashed against the wall.
I jerked in alarm. “What’s the matter?”
“You’ve been talking to him, haven’t you? I could smell you in the dungeon.” His face was a rictus of malevolence.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I drew the bedding up to my chin as if it could shield me from Balthazar’s wrath.
“Whatever he told you—it was all lies!” Balthazar rushed toward me.
I drew away from him when he sat on the bed.
“Look at me!” he bellowed.
I shook my head.
“Look at me!”
Again, I shook my head.
Balthazar took several long, deep breaths, and then his hand landed on my shoulder.
“My beloved, I am sorry I frightened you.” He caressed my neck and jaw. “I’ve missed you so.”
He rolled me to face him and started kissing my cheeks, jaw, nose, and eyelids while murmuring sweet, tender phrases to me.
I had to relax and yield to him. He couldn’t know I was planning on leaving him tomorrow when the moon was full.
His nimble fingers unlaced the front of my nightgown, and he slid his warm hands beneath the fabric.
I pretended to relax and respond. But inside, I was terrified. I cried out his name when I pretended to orgasm and tore at his back with my fingernails, the way he loved.
He slept with me the entire night, no doubt fearful of letting me out of his sight.
But the next night, I sliced my hand with my dagger, intoned the words from my bedroom, and left him again, praying he wouldn’t find me.
December 15th, 1783
I have landed in the Americas. A group of uniformed marauders found me as I was wandering through a forest. They heckled me and taunted me.
They tried to force their way inside me, but I beat them off.
This angered them, so they struck me repeatedly, shouting things I didn’t understand.
They left me for dead, galloping away on their horses to let me rot.
Bruised and broken, I managed to find a stream and quench my thirst, but I was so hungry. A man in a wagon found me staggering across the Plains, tired and famished. He took pity on me, helped me into his wagon, and carted me to his home.
“Do you think that’s Philip?” I asked, glancing at Emily.
“It could be. The date lines up. Turn the page.”
I did—but my breath hitched as I noticed the jagged edge where a page had been torn out.
“Oh no… there’s a page missing!”
Frantically, I thumbed through the journal, searching for the missing entry. But it was gone.
“There must have been something important here.” I tapped the journal’s worn cover. “We need to ask Malik—maybe he knows what happened to it.”
I started to rise, but Emily’s hand caught my arm.
“Let’s finish reading first,” she murmured.
June 5th, 1784
I have been staying with Philip for quite some time. Balthazar has not found me yet. It is only a matter of time, but I am lulling myself into a false sense of safety. To live an ordinary life is divine!
Our life here is quite peaceful. I have grown affectionate with him, and we share a bed now. Even though he is nothing like Balthazar, I have no choice but to enjoy him.
March 10th, 1785
I have met John James! I left Emily with Philip, determined to find him. He was as eager to speak with me as I was to talk to him. We took off together, heading for his cabin.
Along the way, we were attacked by a group of dark-skinned, shirtless men John James called “Pawnee.” John James was able to fend them off with a rifle. After that, we galloped to his cottage, fearful of another attack.
When we arrived at his dwelling, he prepared me some tea by boiling water over an open flame.
Then, he sat me down at his rickety table and told me that men like the Pawnee are always looking for people like me, namely, time travelers.
He said I needed to speak to another time traveler who lives in a nearby tribe called “the Sioux.”
“I can bring him to speak with you,” John James said.
After finishing our tea, we rode toward where the tribe was camped. John James left me with the horses and strode on foot toward a group of dwellings he called “teepees.”
He returned nearly an hour later to find me sprawled in the grass, drifting to sleep, drowsy from the sun warming my face. He introduced me to a serious-looking fellow named Dancing Fire.
Dancing Fire was an average build with long, dark hair hanging in braids. His expression seemed ancient, as if he had traveled to other worlds. He told me he was a Timeborne like me.
I told them of my relationship with Balthazar, and both men grew somber.
“You must find the Sun and Moon Daggers,” John James said.
“That’s the only way you can defeat Balthazar,” Dancing Fire added. “You’ve got to find them. But there are more resources in the future. I will accompany you there.”
“All right, Dancing Fire,” I said. “We shall leave at the next full moon.”