5. From Darkness To Dragons
CHAPTER 5
From Darkness To Dragons
Melinda Mayweather
A man with a knife to my throat forces me to face the grisly scene. My father, Margo, Dottie, Lars, and the guide lie motionless–all lined up in front of me, lifeless, their eyes staring into nothingness.
“Look at what you did, Melinda. Look what we had to do to catch you.” The words cut deeper than rope wrapped painfully around my wrists.
Tears scald my cheeks. The unbearable weight of guilt and grief are crushing my soul. They all died because of me, because of what I am, what I carry within me. Their blood is on my hands.
The man’s hot breath brushes against my ear, his words dripping with scorn, the knife pressing hard against my neck. “You’re evil, you know. The magick your parents tried to protect–it’s an abomination.”
“And you’re worse,” I scream. Rage, long suppressed, erupts from me, a volcanic fury I allow to flood out of me and race toward the Inquisitors. The cataclysmic force of my magick sends them all hurtling away from me. Their bodies crumple against the stone with sickening bone-snapping sound effects.
My screams fill the chamber, raw and unending. Every hurt. Every regret. Every solitary pain I’ve ever felt. I scream for my mother, for my father, for every soul I’ve failed, for every life I’ve unintentionally taken and will take in the future.
The magick roars, then fades to a familiar, manageable hum.
I collapse, my wrists still bound behind my back, sobs wracking my frame. The tears don’t stop. They can’t. I’m broken, hollowed out by loss and guilt.
The silence that follows is thick, oppressive, as if the very air waits for me to shatter it again. But what’s left to destroy? I’m already in ruins and alone.
The water in the pool at the center of the chamber ripples suddenly, and from its depths rises a woman dressed like Galadriel from Lord of the Rings. She’s in a sparkling silver gown. Her hair, this bright mix of blue and purple and white, is done up in braids with a small tiara perched on top.
My mind must be playing tricks on me.
She steps out of the pool, right over the short wall like it’s nothing. Like the water wasn’t even six inches deep. And she’s not wet. Her dress, hair, skin–-everything’s dry.
She stares at me for a moment before her gaze drifts around the chamber, taking in all the mess, the blood, the bodies of my family and my enemies.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting quite this when Juan sent for me.” The woman’s voice is laced with a tone of surprise, her fingers absently twisting a large silver ring on her hand. She crouches beside the guide, her movements gentle as she closes his lifeless eyes with a soft touch. “Rest now, faithful one.”
“Who are you?” I ask, my voice strained with a mix of curiosity and desperation.
“Unimportant,” she replies dismissively, her eyes scanning the scene. “What happened here?”
I swallow hard, the weight of my actions pressing down on me. “I lost control,” I admit in a hushed tone. The words taste bitter. “The Inquisitors killed my family. And I killed them.” I brace myself for her judgment, but instead, I find an unexpected expression of surprise in her eyes.
“Why didn’t you kill the Inquisitors before they killed your family?” Her question stings, probing at the raw edges of my guilt.
“If I could control it, we wouldn't be here,” I respond, a harsh, involuntary laugh escaping me as the bitter irony of the situation hits home.
Of course I would’ve protected my family if I knew how to use the power racing through my blood. Instead my unwieldy semi-nuclear magick just continues to wreak havoc.
“My family was trying to get me to Avalon. We followed a map here, but I couldn’t get the door to open.” I use my head to gesture at the large stone door behind me.
“What are you?” The woman steps closer, her presence imposing. “Do you know?”
Confusion swirls within me. What are you? What does that even mean? “I’m human. I was born with magick and I’ve never been able to control it. Who are you?” The question comes out more as a plea.
She waves her hand again. “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re the key to getting this door unlocked.”
“Unlocked?” I echo, my skepticism is mixed with a glimmer of hope. “Is that why it only showed me a glimpse and didn’t let me through?”
Her eyes lock onto mine, glowing fluorescent purple, piercing through the dim, torchlit chamber. “What are you?” she presses, her head tilting to the side like a puzzling border collie. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Melinda,” I say, exasperation creeping into my voice. “You say I’m the key, but it didn’t open.”
“It’s locked from the other side. It can’t be unlocked from here,” she explains matter-of-factly like it should be common knowledge.
“Fucking hell, just tell me what’s going on you weird water-lady. Is that the door to Avalon and if so, how do I get it open?” My patience is wearing thin. My magick hums louder inside me and she sucks in a quick breath, taking a step backward.
Her lips curl into a slight smirk. “Good. You still have fight in you. You’ll need that to survive, but I’m here to help. Put that magick back where it belongs.”
“Fuck you, lady. Tell me what I want to know.” I let my magick spill out a little more.
She drops to one knee, clutching her temple, a grimace of pain etched across her face. Unexpectedly, she begins to sing, her voice weaving a melody both foreign and enchanting. The song wraps around me, lifting the weight of my fears, bathing me in a surreal calmness.
Despite the song, her voice breaks through, speaking to me directly. “You’re asking the wrong questions, Melinda. I can get you to Avalon, but you have to ask me to take you into the water first. I can’t take you unless you do.”
“Please. Take me to Avalon.” I plead from the ground. “Help me.”
She shakes her head. “Ask me to take you into the water.”
“I won’t drown?”
“No. It’s safe with me.”
“How can you get to Avalon if the door is locked?”
“There’s more than one way to Avalon. Do you want my help, Melinda?”
“Yes. If that’s the way to Avalon, you have my permission. Please take me into the water.”
She releases me from the ropes binding my wrists and helps me stand, guiding me toward the pool. She steps in first and the dark seemingly bottomless water only reaches to her mid-calf. Fear and curiosity mingle in my chest.
She holds out a hand, her lavender eyes glowing with promise. “I can answer all your questions, Melinda. Every last one.”
I step into the water and grab her hand before slipping into a vortex of color and light. The sensation is alien, like being submerged in water, yet nothing is actually wet.
We’re moving. Sliding? Flying? I can’t really tell.
Her fingers are still wrapped tightly around my hand. She hasn’t let go. And a glimmer of hope sparks within me. Maybe all the pain and loss wasn’t for nothing. Maybe in Avalon, I can finally find the control I’ve longed for and ensure that no one else is harmed by my powers.
The bright colors fade as we step out of the strange non-water together. What greets us isn't another gloomy cave chamber, but something far more extraordinary.
We’ve stepped into a world that seems to have leaped straight out of the epic tales of Homer’s “Iliad” and “Odyssey”. Towering marble columns rise in the distance, reminiscent of ancient Greek architecture, rise majestically, supporting grandiose buildings that exude a sense of timeless elegance and power.
We stand in the courtyard of a massive building. Columns surround the pool we stepped from. The air is filled with the distant grunts and shouts of men playing sports on a field—huge, bronzed, muscular, tattooed men, glistening in the sun.
…and there are dragons.
In the sky. Flying above us.
Real. Live. Dragons.