Hero's Journey

Chapter 61

That's when it occurs to Delia, the difference between the Amazons and Zoya. Where there was brutality in the Amazons, there is humility in the huntress. Inside, Delia pats herself on the back. For a girl who spent most of her life in a narrow minded village, she really has adopted the art of understanding people from all these months of travel. The girl is too soon humbled as the pessimist inside of her rebutted the good.

You'll never be a woman like that, a warrior as mighty as the Amazons and perhaps Zoya.

Zoya is yet another woman she feels clunky to in comparison.

"The boy rests here." Zoya gestures to the lump of furs at the opposite end of the tent.

Delia squats down on her haunches beside him and gently turns Kip over so she can see his face. It is ashen, yet his cheeks are flushed to the color of poppies. "Not again." Delia murmurs, eyes filling with tears that refuse to fall.

"I thought you said that nighttime air is a great medicine, then why isn't he outside?" Delia asks, though her eyes never leave Kip's pallid face.

"I tried to let him sleep outside as I did to you, but...there was a strangeness that occurred whenever clouds befell the moon."

Delia's eyebrows kneed together in confusion. "What kind of strangeness?" She asks, this time turning to look at Zoya.

Zoya hesitates. "The shadows...they snarled."

Bells of alarm ring inside of Delia, but she swallows back her fear.  "Snarled?"

"As I said."  Zoya responds, crouching down beside Delia and Kip.  She touches a hand to his forehead, but immediately jerks it back as if she's been burned by fire.  "His fever hasn't gone down," she puckers her lips in a wince, "apparently."

Delia bites her lip and gnaws on it in worry.  He's so hot Zoya can't even touch him.  What can possibly be wrong with him now?

Delia barely notices when Zoya straightens to her feet.  "You should go to sleep, you need rest."

Delia hesitates, but then relents.  "Alright, but may I rest in here?  I don't want to leave him alone."

Zoya nods and ducks out of the tent, leaving Delia alone with her unconscious friend.  It is then that the tears formed in her eyes fall.

"Why can't you just be better, Kip?  I chose the life of an adventurer, but it's much more complicated then any of the stories my mother told me where curses like yours could be lifted by something as simple as a True Love's Kiss, not meaning the plant that I had to track down either."  Delia sighs.  Rubbing away the wetness on her cheeks, she lays her head beside  Kip's and enters into a fitful sleep where her dreams lie in wait.

〰〰〰

In Delia's dream there are swirls of misty green that surround her.  Strangely enough, Kip and Kagon are both at her side walking along the glossy black ground. 

She looks at Kagon, his eyes are filmy and dazed, his features are slack and dead.  Shivers crawl up her spine, so she looks away and at her other companion.  Unlike Kagon, Kip's eyes shift to her in startling alertness.  However there is something off...they are orbs of amber, pupilless and full of depth.  It is as if the color of his iris has completely taken over the whole eyeball.

Delia jolts, nearly falling into Kagon.  However, Kip's hand shoots out and grabs her by the waist, steadying her.  With his other hand he presses a finger to his lips.  Kip's arms drops back to his sides and they resume walking, staring ahead at the blackness and emerald fog ahead of them.  However, Delia is aware, agonizingly aware.  She can feel pin pricks of feeling stabbing at the nape of her neck.

We're being watched.  Delia realizes, terrified to turn around and face what is behind them.  She can feel her skin crawl as if a bony finger is tracing up her spine...

Steeling herself, Delia halts her torturous steps and goes to whirl around, but Kip's arm sweeps out once more, throwing it around her shoulders and forcing her to look forward. 

That does not stop her from getting a glimpse of what is behind them, following their every movement.

Eyes.  Twin red-violet eyes that glare at them with such menace and hatred that Delia feels all the color drain from her face.  They are the kind of eyes that belong to a person with a rotten soul, one that hungers for power as much as Gahenna does.

Delia's stomach clenches tightly like a wound knot.  Her frayed nerves scream and ache with a sort of horror that is painful.  She's never been so scared in her entire life, not even when her father locked her in the dark labyrinthine cellar or when she faced all the many creatures that she has come upon during her travels. The only thing that comes close is when she was yards from the pit, Gahenna.

Kip's arm tightens around her shoulders and he brings her close to his side. His hot breath whispers in her ear. "Do not let him know that you see him or that you are aware."

"Wh-who is he?" Delia asks, her voice a fragile quiver of a whisper.

"He is Dacqa the Soulless, the head Priest of Gahenna and he is watching."