Authors: Heather Bserani
“
Leish?”
Dori paused. She realized a little late that this poor man didn’t speak English. The man simply shook his head and stooped over to once again pick up his box. Now that she was closer, she could almost hear the box calling to her. She stared at it, wondering what could be inside. A strange urge to snatch it away bubbled up from inside her; she had to have it. She moved to take it from his hands and he gripped it more tightly than she anticipated. For an elderly man, he certainly was strong. They stood locked in that silent tug-of-war for a few seconds before she ended up ripping the box from his hands.
The old man, surprised, finally raised his voice, but it was mixed with tears. He turned his head upward, but was still shaking it from side to side. He balanced precariously with one hand on his cane and the other extended toward the sky.
“
Leish, ya Allah, Leish?”
He kept repeating the same mantra with a voice full of pain and confusion. Dori saw the tears spill down his wrinkled cheeks. His knees began to wobble and she feared the old man would fall down. Questioning her own actions, she quickly tucked the box under her arm and turned to apologize. She hoped her eyes could communicate her feelings better than her words.
Intrigued by the foreign world that seemed to be surrounding her, she decided to press her luck with this poor man. It took a moment for her to recall the words she wanted to ask about, but eventually she remembered. She pronounced them gingerly, hoping for understanding. She knew it was a monastery, but she needed to know why it was so important.
“
Sed Naya?” She dropped her voice and her eyes as she asked this. The man fell silent, except for his involuntary sniffling. He didn’t respond, but raised a scrawny arm with an outstretched finger. The man was pointing toward the mountains beyond the city. She met his gaze and once again tried to thank him with her eyes while she offered a few words of gratitude. Shegraox un turned toward where the man pointed and began walking again.
She was pondering what had just happened when she heard her name. She spun around surprised to hear it in this place where clearly no one spoke English. It was like she was being called from far away and whoever was calling her was using her full name.
“
Dorianna!” The third syllable was longer than the others. The only person in the street was the old man, and she was further away from him than she thought. He called out to her again.
“
Dorianna!” The man beckoned her to come to him, but Dori’s feet were pulling her backward. She wanted to go to the man and ask how he knew her name, but couldn’t fight against whatever was forcing her backward. The man got smaller as he became a part of the horizon, but he continued to call to her.
“
Dorianna! Dorianna! Dorianna!” It was with his voice echoing in her mind that she awoke to a day that wasn’t so much about new beginnings, but tragic ends.
Chapter Twenty
June 6, 1598
The heat is oppressive as we shift from spring to summer. It
’
s as if the doorway to Hell itself has opened up and released its too, too fiery winds upon us. Heavy it hangs upon me like a seconde skin. The winged insects sing a peculiar song at the height of the day, disturbing the slumber of all nocturnal beings. Tempers flare in myself and all those around me as we are all shorte on patience and driven to madness by the climbing mercurie.
Night brings no respite from the temperature. Nary a breeze moves the trees. It is thus I discerned Mr. Barwicke and his newest talente. It seems with all the deathe he drank in, he has become quite the gifted opponent. As he kills, his power continues to grow and any remaining humanity has disappeared outright. Two eves ago I watched him drink from a child of barely a half and three years. The Master was not sating his hunger, merely enjoying a fine wine. I sat atop a tree and watched as the babe whimpered in his arms and then faded like a flower in the midday sun. Barwicke looked up at me and then chortled like a sick cat, breath hitching through the hole I pierced in his heart.
I could not sit idle any longer. I jumped from my perch, fangs bared, ready to drink his blood and rid humanitie of this scourge, but as I descended
,
his bodie faded into a clinging mist and disappeared before my very eyes. T
’
were I who landed on the tinie cherub. Grabbed him I did, and swadled him to safetie in my arms, only to watch his eyes go wide and roll back in his head. He were with God. I held that child and prayed for him while the mist danced around me, licking at my hands and face.
I swore at the Master. I uttered oaths that never before passed my lips. I cursed Barwicke to the fiery, fiery pits of Hell and promised to take him there myself. The rattling laughter that filled the nighte was his only response.
I cradled the innocent of l The ra until his skin grew cold in my arms. Then I dug his grave and buried him myselfe. I didn
’
t know his name, but I said a few words to the God I hoped listened to all of his sheepe, no matter how loste they had become. I pleaded with him for the wisdome I needed to overcome Barwicke. Certainly defeating my Master would please the Good Lord above, even if it were another Evil creature that caused it. I prayed until fatigue overcame me. T
’
was then that I retreated to my lair to rest and await the night once more.
Chapter Twenty One
The dream left Dori unsettled and anxious. She felt like there was some big piece of the puzzle that she was missing. It was as if the man in her dream was trying to tell her something. Questions filled her mind and the more she came up empty-handed, the more aggravated she became. All of this added to the stress of the impending battle between the clergy, Addison’s father and Percy’s coven. Dori felt as if she had been sucked into a twister. She couldn’t grasp anything solid; she was being tossed around by things that were out of her control.
Just like any other Monday morning, Michael headed off to the gallery and then the library while she made her way to the theater. The daily routine should have provided the solidarity that she was looking for, but she felt frustrated. Her entire world was being forced upside down and yet life pushed on exactly the same as it had before. She wanted answers and she wanted action. The mundane repetition irritated and stifled her. She had tried to share her aggravation that morning with Michael, but he was ever the voice of reason.
“We can’t rush in without more information. We aren’t really sure what we are dealing with. You don’t want to risk being discovered, or worse, defeated. We need answers.” With that he kissed her head condescendingly and left for the day.
Obviously, Dori couldn’t talk to Addison. She couldn’t exactly open up to her friend about what lurked in the forest or her true identity. She was ever more frustrated by her situation, feeling alone despite the people around her. She scowled and her mood continued to plummet.
Rehearsal began with the scene where Dori had missed her step. The director had chewed her out in his office, but now he was bent on calling her out in front of the rest of the company. The dancers waited on stage while the middle-aged man slowly descended the aisle and climbed the stairs to stand on the apron.
“It seems as though the choreography may have been too complicated for some of us. We need to practice this piece until I am confident that it will be performed flawlessly in the future. We can’t be taking any chances, can we, Mrs. Corso?” He crossed his arms as he added the last part. His bald head was shiny in the glowing lights.
The director began to slowly pace the apron as the music began. Never relaxing his posture, he frowned as he watched all of the dancers. Finally he paused in front of Dori and her partner. She continued with the choreography as the angry man watched, his lips growing more taut. She felt her own anger well up and she pushed it into her movements. foretheAs she pressed into an arabesque, she lifted her leg well above her head. Dori knew she was outperforming every other dancer on the stage and she had yet to break a sweat. The director’s mouth contracted minutely, but she caught it. What was his problem? Did he want her to falter? Here she was performing just as well as his primas and he was even more upset.
“Cut! It appears we have a show-off here. Mrs. Corso, you are part of the corps, which means you are supposed to look the same as everyone else on stage. There is no room for someone who can’t perform as part of a team here. You will all rehearse this piece until you look like a single body dancing the assigned steps, no mistakes, and no alterations. Again!” The fire in his dark eyes nearly caused her to snap, but she sensed that was what he wanted. He was looking for a reason to fire her. She wasn’t about to give it to him.
The rest of the day went on much the same until the cast had to break to begin prepping for the evening performance. It was clear that Dori had made no friends that day. Many of the ballerinas were quietly cursing her for the hellish rehearsal. It was just another thing to add to the list of things pissing her off. She kept to herself, resigned to do exactly as the director wanted and then get the hell out of there for the night. As she was brushing powder on her face, Addison came up behind her and wrapped her in a gentle hug.
“It’s not your fault. The critics crucified him in the papers. He had to do it or he would have lost face with the rest of the company.”
“I don’t know, Addison. The way he looked at me...He wanted to call me out today. He wanted me to snap.”
“Well then, it’s good that you didn’t. You showed him what you are made of. People will respect that.”
“Yeah, they all want to kill me now.”
“That’s because they are exhausted. Not one of them could have dealt with him as coolly as you did. I’m proud of you.”
“At least someone is. I don’t know how much more of that I could have taken without losing control.”
An office worker burst into the dressing room. The short woman was toting a small bag that was overflowing with brightly-colored tissue paper. She waddled over to Addison, breathing heavily with the effort it took for her to move, and thrust the bag under her nose.
“Here, this just came for you and I was told to deliver it. Now.” The way she said the last word made it clear that the woman wasn’t happy about being told what do to. Addison took the bag, muttering a quick word of thanks and the grey-haired secretary turned with a whirl of floral print and shuffled away.
Like a three year old distracted by candy, Addison dove into the gift and tissue paper immediately fluttered through the air and littered the floor.
“Oh! There’s a tiny box in here!” Addison squealed with delight. “The best gifts come in small packages!” More paper drifted to the floor. “Wait! There are two cards...here Dori, one’s for you.”
Dori reached for the card in slow motion. Addison almost dropped it; her focus was turned toward what was in the bag. She pulled out her card, tore the envelope and looked at it for a split seconda slast word before seizing the box and dropping the bag. In that moment, nothing else existed for Addison. All her attention was focused on opening the black leather box. She was suddenly still, a smile spreading on her face. She was enjoying the anticipation of the gift as much as the gift itself. Her fingers slowly unfastened the snap on the top of the box. Little by little, the two halves of the top were peeled back revealing a stunning pair of sparkling ruby studs. There they sat glistening in the dressing room lights like two drops of blood glaring at Dori. She licked her lips. Silence filled the dressing room.
“Percy, you shouldn’t have!” The hair stood up on the back of Dori’s neck. “They’re beautiful!” Addison sighed with delight. She handed the card to Dori and she began fastening the earrings to her ears.
“These stones, beautiful on their own, pale next to you. I hope you accept them as a token of my continuing affection.
-- Always,
Percy.”
Dori was speechless as Addison turned her head in the mirror, admiring the way the rubies caught the light. She returned her attention to the card in her hands. In slow-motion, she turned the card over and began to peel back the flap. Addison continued to appreciate her gift as Dori tore the envelope open. The simple ivory card inside seemed very benign, but its subtle, duplicitous meaning screamed at her.
“Those we surround ourselves with bring us joy. You are lucky to have such a devoted friend. Perhaps someday others will enjoy her too. True friends bring happiness to all and help us overcome tragedy.”
-- Percy”
Dori set the card on the counter and turned back to applying her stage makeup. She was suddenly pensive. The desire to lash out, which had annoyed her all day, was suddenly quelled. Percy’s card was a warning. Michael was right. They needed more information and a plan to annihilate the terror in the woods.
“Well, don’t you like them?” Addison beamed at her reflection in the mirror.
“Sure, they’re great.”
“Someday I am going to have to thank this Percy face-to-face for his generosity.”
Dori was on her feet without consciously realizing what she was doing. The need to protect her friend overpowered everything else. Her hands had an iron grip on Addison’s shoulders. She forcefully tuned the glowing blonde from her reflection and was staring deep into her eyes. Their faces were only inches apart.