A tarot reader aids a mysterious man who believes she is the only one who can help him return to his true home in the eerie Manaan caverns where they must fight the natural and supernatural to stay alive.
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Maxine Shepard is a tarot reader who h...
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The water was colder than I remembered, it only served as a reminder that the lake I had previously crawled out of was completely different than the water I currently treaded. It was either that or the adrenaline of being followed and possibly confronted by my double that made me oblivious to the water's temperature. Either way, Balmore and I quickly approached the center of the lake.
"What do we do?" I glanced to him.
"I'll check under the water to see if it's safe." He took the flashlight and disappeared beneath the ink-like liquid. I patiently waited for his return as blackness closed in around me. It was silent except for the sound of my breathing and the melodic drip, drip, drip from the naturally formed stalagmites overhead.
With a startling splash, Blamore appeared. He swiped his stray hairs aside to prevent them from obscuring his vision. "Let's go."
"What about the jagged underwater rock wall?" I examined the liquid, trying to peer through the reflective surface. No matter what, I was determined to remain above water.
"If we stay at the surface, we'll be fine." He nodded confidently. "Even though it looks like the other lake, it's not. It's different."
I continued my gradual swim toward the other side of the lake and wondered if what he said applied to our doubles. They looked, sounded, and acted like us but what parts of them were different? Did they have the same feelings, worries and desires as we had when entering the cave?
As we paddled across the frigid lake, I allowed my curiosity to get the best of me. "Why were they repeating our past experiences?"
"Who?" Blamore kept his eyes locked on his destination, the dry, stone landing. "The others?"
"Yes, the others." I continued to kick my feet, bobbing along the surface. "They act like ghostly imprints, repeating significant events of our past. How much of that was real?"
"None of it." He seemed so sure. "Just like my wife and everything else I left back there, your past is no longer relevant. It's futile wondering what was real or not. Everything you've experienced a second ago is now just a memory. What happens in the future is yet to come, but what happens at this very moment defines you. And that's what matters most."
I glanced to him, feeling a sense of awe at the man at my side and the extraordinary transformation he had undergone. It was only hours before that he seldomly spoke, and when he did it was short and to the point. Now, the range in his vocabulary stood out, his conversations held more meaning, and his words were more profound.
Although I held onto a strong sense of awe, an uncertainty overcame me. What if I had been connecting with a different Blamore this entire time? What if I had been connecting with his double all along?
"How do I know you're the real Blamore?" Suddenly apprehensive, I paused in the water, doing my best to stay afloat.
He stopped short of the landing and turned to face me. The glow of the flashlight illuminated the inquisitive look on his face and his expression said more than any words could. "Because the other version of us is repeating the things we've already done."
