Martin & Marcella

Three

Along the cliffs they ran, always afraid, never resting for too long. Every time a crow flew overhead or a hare crossed their trail, they feared She had found them. He, Martin, the brother, held firm to his hope that they'd eventually be left in peace, and she, Marcella, the sister, made honest attempt to do as her brother asked of her and not worry. In this manner, with high hope and an effort to be strong, the two continued.

Even they could not know all that crept behind them, searching for the one whose time had drawn near, beseeching in words of dooming fate. Those She spoke to must find truth in what She bid. Those whose fate She foretold had no hope of carrying on the memories of mankind. In Her unceasing efforts to follow, to track the brother and sister down, She would not be deterred. The Battlements of Destiny could allow no mortal any other course; She was their messenger. She was the harbinger of finality. Two such as Martin and Marcella could hold little hope against Her.

For several days, Joel worked hard. He went directly into the tower after classes let out and didn't leave until nightfall had darkened the attic so much that it was impossible to accomplish anything more. Great energy filled him when he was there, surrounded by the sacred presence of ancient saints and winged guardians that some believed sat at the massive gates at the entrance of worlds above. Even in the eye-straining dimness the boy carried on with his work. Even when the shadows seemed to possess more than just spiders, he swept and dusted. At times, he felt a strangely familiar fear deep inside of him, throbbing more like an instinct than any new sense of alarm. But Joel worked hard. He wasn't going to be frightened by shadows, that was for sure. He looked forward to the time he spent alone in the obscure, hazy museum.

And he knew that the sooner he finished cleaning, the sooner he could return to those statues. Joel had promised himself that he wasn't going to look at the figures of the boy and girl until he had completely cleaned out the rest of the attic. That way, he knew he'd get the job done. Also, locked away in the back of his mind along with the memories of his father, was an odd dread clawing at his brain--a dread that another look at the statues wouldn't mean what it had to him the first two times--a dread that it may mean something even more inexplicable. That was why he couldn't chance a look at them until everything else was cleared away. He wouldn't allow himself to jeopardize his own imagination.

On the sixth day of his work in the attic, Joel left the church to find Lysander waiting for him in the alley between St. Raphael's and the school. Night had settled across the buildings in dark gray shawls. Lysander stepped out of the black as if he was a slinking criminal, which startled Joel severely.

"What were you doing in there?" Lysander demanded to know. The air was chill, but he was dressed in a sleeveless shirt.

Joel could tell that his friend hadn't been outside long. Shrugging, he merely replied, "I needed some time to myself."

"In there?"

"Sure." Joel didn't appreciate the doubtful attitude of his friend.

Lysander laughed, although a frown was clear on his face. Before Joel could cross the alley and enter the school building, the redhead caught hold of his arm and stopped him in his tracks. Turning serious, Lysander looked reproachfully at his friend. "Listen. Where have you been lately? I hardly ever see you. You've turned so quiet and sour."

For a moment, Joel felt sorry for his friend. He really hadn't told Lysander anything that had recently happened. The two of them had been great friends, and now they seemed more distant than either one of them had thought possible. "Lysander," began Joel, "there's so much . . . so much I don't want to think about right now."

"Like what? I'm your friend, don't you know? Don't you even trust me anymore? You used to tell me everything. Now something's eating you from inside, and I can't help unless you tell me what it is. Don't you get that?"