Destiny Gift (The Everlast Trilogy) - By Juliana Haygert Page 0,35
one in here.” He halted across from the table where I was working.
Hoping he didn’t notice the accident that had occurred before his arrival, I continued cleaning up the mess while we both remained silent. The silence was killing me. What was he doing here? Why was he looking for me?
I glared at him. “What do you want?”
“What do you think?” he asked. That was when I realized his hands were trembling.
“God,” I muttered, taking off my gloves and offering him my hands. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”
He shrugged, placing his hands over mine. The warmth spread. He gasped and the quivering eased.
Once it was done, he pulled his hands back and placed them inside his pockets. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.”
And he walked away. Just like that.
My legs gave out, and I found a stool to sit down before I fainted from breathing the toxic substance I’d been working with. Or because of my response to him.
Oh my God! I was just an object to him. A thing that he could use whenever he wasn’t feeling well. I felt like a recyclable soda can that he used up and then threw away.
A tiny explosion forced me to return my attention to the lab and my project. I cleaned up the mess and, fighting tears, went back to work.
Then, after a light pang in my chest, warmth and tingles filled my body, the room revolved in darkness, and I wasn’t in the lab anymore.
I was in a forest, among many tall and thick trees, in almost absolute darkness. The heavy smell of moss and wet leaves engulfed me.
I jumped back when a spot of light came from my right. I saw a cloaked figure approaching, her arm extended, her palm facing up, a bright pink flame hovering over it.
She stopped right beside me, but didn’t seem to see me. I was in one of the ghost visions. I leaned to look at her face from under the cloak, but that wasn’t necessary. Ceris. She looked sideways, her piercing and unforgettable blue eyes searching around, anxious and fretful. After making sure she was alone, Ceris ran and I darted after her.
We ran fast—it wasn’t easy to keep up with her—dodging trees and roots and small animals.
I concentrated on her, wondering why I was seeing her and what she was doing in the middle of a forest. The questions distracted me from the fear building inside my chest. The total darkness and the sounds of wild animals didn’t help.
After a great distance, she slowed and, suddenly, after passing a few more trees, we entered a clearing. A wooden cottage stood in the center. Light emerged from its few windows and smoke came from its chimney.
Appearing relieved, Ceris marched to the door.
Before she could knock, it opened.
In the tiny living room, there were three identical women. They had no wrinkles or aging marks, long silver hair, knowing gray eyes, and translucent, pale skin. Even though I couldn’t tell their age, I knew they were old. Very, very old. They wore simple white clothing. One was seated on a ragged brown loveseat, knitting a red scarf. A second sat on a pillow over the faded beige rug and read an old book with torn pages. And the third was knelt before the fireplace, stirring a rusted kettle placed over it. None of them appeared to have noticed Ceris’s presence.
As the goddess and I stepped in, the door closed—by itself—and the silver-haired women kept on with what they were doing.
Ceris took off her black cloak, letting her white-blond hair flow freely behind her.
She placed herself among the three women. “I need your help.”
After what seemed an eternity, the one knitting spoke. “We cannot help you anymore.”
The one reading added, “We already altered too much of the future to help you.”
“He needs her. I may not know how she does it, but he would have died without her,” Ceris yelled, her eyes wide.
“Yes,” the third one said. The way they kept to their activities and did not look at Ceris was disturbing. “He would have died without her. However, you did not think of her, did you?”
“No, you did not,” the one knitting said. “What do you think will happen to her once this all is done?”
She shrugged. “I promised her life to you. After the deal is done, she won’t matter anymore.”
“Oh, won’t she?” The one reading stood up and her gray eyes glowed. “How do you know she won’t matter?”