Quenched

  Copyright © 2015 by Z.L. Arkadie

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ISBN: 978-0-9849884-2-6

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  1. The House of Benel

  2. Half of My Light

  3. The Longest Short Trip

  4. Enter the Mountain

  5. The Resolution

  6. The Black Hills

  7. Through Mirrors

  8. Collecting the Sun

  9. Zill’s Times Past

  10. Take to the Road

  11. The Cure

  12. Empty Places

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks to the following:

  Edited by Red Adept Editing

  Cover by Z.L. Arkadie Books

  1

  The House of Benel

  I walk up 1st Avenue. In only a matter of days, the snow will layer the trees planted along the sidewalks. Usually I relish in this time of year because I like to watch the white ice rain down. But I’ll miss this season of snowfall and many more after—maybe hundreds or even thousands of them. I’m on my way to Enu, and it doesn’t snow there.

  Never in my life have I nursed this sort of broken heart, but certainly, that has changed. As each step takes me closer to the Enu portal, the blood-pumping organ in my chest aches more and more. I can’t imagine remaining on Earth while knowing Baron Ze Feldis is in love with another Selell. I can’t go back to my day job, either—not as long as Lang, Bender & Jenison Advertising, where I worked four years ago as executive creative director of fashion and beauty, maintains an account with Red Yard, Baron’s energy drink company.

  Last night when I looked Baron in the eyes for the final time, he was entering a Red Yard event at the Met here in Manhattan. I imagine my old firm gave him his money’s worth and put his company on the map. So much has happened between us in the last three—almost four—years, I never stopped to wonder what sort of everyday life Baron lives.

  These are the things the public knows about him: he’s rich, super-sexy, and dating a woman who looks like a supermodel. These are the things I know about him: he used to love me, but for some strange reason, he doesn’t anymore, which makes him a very good deceiver. He once said he would love me forever. That brings me to the fact that I know he’s a vampire and the world doesn’t. Yes—he’s the perfect deceiver. Now my heart aches even more.

  The city streets are bustling like usual. It’s dusk, so those who put in extra time at the office are hoofing it on the sidewalks, wearing heavy coats and layers of clothing. Their warm breath generates misty clouds of frost in front of their faces. They can’t see me because I created a veil of invisibility over myself, but I can see and hear them; I know what they’re thinking and feeling.

  A time existed when I too was worried about what was for dinner, tomorrow’s meeting, and the many other practicalities of life. But never again. I’m going to be gone for a long time. A day in Enu is nearly a year on Earth, so who knows what this world will look like when I return a hundred years from now. I’m committed to discovering just that.

  I hear, Is that all it takes?

  I look around, trying to locate whoever said that.

  The lives of millions sacrificed because you’re grieving over Ze Feldis?

  “Who are you?” I ask out loud.

  A tall, thin woman wearing a dark-green scarf whips her face toward the space I left behind.

  I’m on your shoulder.

  I look and see the black-and-white polka-dot butterfly creature.

  You’re the Wek, I say but not out loud this time.

  I am a Wek.

  I take another glance at the creature. The first time I saw and heard it speak, I’d thought I had lost my marbles. That was also the first time the blinding fog rolled into Manhattan, the day Baron Ford—who I now know as Baron Ze Feldis—returned to my life five years after we first met.

  You didn’t answer the question, the Wek reminds me.

  I don’t know what you mean by sacrificing the lives of millions, I reply quite curtly.

  Two fire trucks scream past us, blasting their sirens and casting flashing lights against the tall buildings. Cars try to navigate to the side of the road to let them pass, but traffic is too thick. Now horns are honking all over the place. It’s chaotic.

  The prophecy of the Seven Seeds is unfolding; this is not the season for you to return to Enu, the Wek says.

  My pulse accelerates, but my pace slows. I see myself back in Ethiopia at the burial site of my five-thousand-year-old actual paternal grandmother, Zillael. I feel myself being stabbed through the back by Zina all over again. She was a deranged vampire who would rather have killed me than let Baron love another woman. I’m also seeing how his two silver-bladed daggers sealed her fate. Wounded, I dragged myself to my grandmother’s grave and recovered the Script that tells of our future. I’m the only daughter who’s able to translate the writings. I have the Power of Mind, and I’m only beginning to scratch the surface of knowing the scope of what that power is.

  I sigh with a renewed sense of resolve. I know there’s more of the Script for me to read, more battles to fight. Although I’d rather run home to lick my wounds, I’ve been burdened with the task of guiding all seven sisters to our final destiny.

  I stop in my tracks to glare up at the lofty, glass-mirrored United Nations building. I remember standing here, on days long past, doing just this—admiring how nearby skyscrapers reflect on its mirrored skin. A lot has changed since then—a lot.

  I remember the Script and know it’s unfolding, I finally admit to the Wek on my shoulder.

  Then what do you choose, Cl’auta, fifth daughter of the House of Benel?

  I twist my neck to study the Wek. What a strange thing it is. Its beady white eyes are watching me.

  Where next? I whisper.

  We’re riding the wind, whizzing past the tops of tall skyscrapers. This still feels unreal, as if I’m living in the pages of a comic book. Like Superman over Metropolis or Batman swinging through Gotham City.

  We journey northeast, over dense woods and small towns. The sun continues to dip westward. We’re slashing through a familiar forest. Soon we’ll reach the house where my sister Fawn lived with a man who was once a vampire. Lario Exgesis became human again, then transformed back into a vampire. My sister loved him, and he betrayed her.

  We come to a grinding halt at the edge of the property. I gaze up at the sky. There’s my glowing protection shield left over from the last time I was here, but a second layer blankets my initial broken coating. The new sheet is resilient, blazing blue, and casts a light over the entire property.

  “Did Felix do this?” I ask the Wek.

  Yes, he did. The butterfly-like creature flutters its wings, lifts off my shoulder, and charges forward. Follow me.

  We bolt out of the tree line and cross the field of plush green grass, which is a lot healthier than before. The house is Tudor-style with gray brick walls and a roof covered with black shingles. I can feel the emptiness of the inside—it’s just swallowing me up.

  The front door opens on its own the moment I step on the gray cement porch. My senses are heightened; the last time I was here, I had to save my sister from her demented boyfriend. I found Fawn curled up on the floor of an underground prison built with walls of silver to keep her in while keeping vampires out. Lario was brokering a deal with another Selell—her blood in exchange for transforming him back into a vampire. To keep the vampire interested in the pact, Lario supervised little taste sessions of Fawn’s blood. Visualizing how that went down only infuriates me more.

  But this memory is interrupted by the lights cutting on. I see that Lario’s entire collection of books is gone. Actually, the entire place is empty. The furniture is gone. The grandfather clocks are gone.

  “What happened?”

  The books have been secured, the Wek replies.

  “And the clocks?”

  They’ve been secured as well. Everything else has been searched and either kept or destroyed.

  I stare across the room at the empty bookcase that opens to an elevator shaft that descends to the depths of the property. My pulse races. When I was here before, in the belly of this house, I energized Fawn with enough power to help her fight back. Instead of using that power to blast off Lario’s head, Fawn used it to shove him into the prison he’d kept her captive in. That was after he begged her not to kill him in a pathetic display of cowardice. Before I could reach into his heart and snatch the leaf from the Tree of Life, the vampire he’d made a deal with had begun the process of changing him back into a Selell.

  But I was the one who’d had a moment of weakness. The sheer horror on Fawn’s face, the way wanting to kill him and save him tortured her, made me suggest she put him in her prison. During that rare flash of anger that afflicted her, I should’ve urged her to finish him off.

  “Is he still here?” I ask. “Lario Exgesis, I mean.” I stare daggers at the bookcase.

  “No, he isn’t,” the Wek answers. “But I must show you something.”

  I look quickly to the left and see a man standing beside me. Then I glance at my shoulder. The butterfly is no longer there.

  “I’m Lorenzo, the Wek,” he answers before I can ask who he is.

  I can’t lo
ok away from Lorenzo. His skin is a vibrant russet, and his eyes are sable but bright like the moon. Everything about his face is soft: nose, cheekbones, jaw, and chin. He’s feminine but masculine, a stunning creature.

  “This is my humanoid form,” he explains.

  I study his inflections. He sounds the same. Deliberate with his words, but lacking a harsh tone. He’d make a great PR person. His voice could convince people that all is safe and secure, even while their house is obviously on fire.

  “Wow,” I marvel, stunned by this reveal. Finally I’m able to refocus. “You said you were going to show me why you brought me here.”

  Lorenzo nods and steps toward the bookcase that hides the elevator. I can’t stop watching him. First of all, he appeared in his human form fully clothed, and I wonder how that could be. Were his hair fibers actually clothes? But there he is, wearing a white T-shirt that gently kisses the ripples of his chest and a pair of white cotton pants. He moves gracefully and powerfully, like a prize-winning stallion.

  When the bookcase slides across the wall and the elevator opens, I’m still studying him. I’m trying to find a flaw—nobody’s that perfect. At least, that’s what I’d thought until this being graced my eyes.

  “Cl’auta,” he says, nudging me on.

  I blink myself out of this state of fascination and trot across the floor to enter the elevator. The pit of doom feels just as bleak as it did before, maybe worse since I’m here in my full physical form. Like the upstairs, this room has been gutted. The cot Lario laid upon while being changed back into a vampire is gone, and the silver chains no longer dangle from the doorway of the silver-walled prison.

  “And what happened to Lario?” I ask.

  “The prison didn’t contain Exgesis because he wasn’t a full Selell.”

  “Which means he crawled out of there,” I conclude past gritted teeth.

  “That is the case.”

  “So he’s free?”

  “He’s free.”

  “Then where is he?” I ask. I want to hunt him down and bring him to justice.

  “He’s lost on Earth.”

  “Does that mean he can’t be found?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you try?” My tone is unintentionally harsh.

  “No,” he answers calmly.

  “Did Felix try?”

  “He’s not permitted to search for Exgesis in the earth realm. Only the Seven Seeds can enact his power upon the beings of Earth.”

  I have six sisters; I make seven. Each of us has a power. I have the power of the mind. Fawn has the power of force. Adore has the power of light. I’ve yet to meet my other four sisters. Some of us live on the earth; some live in Enu. According to the prophecy of the Seven Seeds, one day we will all meet, and that’s when the full power of the House of Benel will be unleashed.

  I give the room another once-over. I’m frowning so hard my face hurts. “I don’t understand why he went through all of this. From where I stand, it looks like he flipped a coin, and we came up on the wrong side of it.”

  “On the contrary. Exgesis knows the scroll has been found.”

  “But it’s in Enu.”

  “The scroll couldn’t stay in Enu because it’s made of earthly materials. Exgesis knows it’s being read, and if it’s being read, then you are working to fulfill the prophecy.”

  My heart stops. That’s news to me. I just left Enu two Earth days ago. The scroll is a remarkable piece of textile. It’s made of a papyrus-type material, and the symbols and words are burnt onto its surface with a black dye.

  Lario hadn’t been with us when we fought and retrieved the scroll. He couldn’t tag along because we rode the wind along the eastern coast of Egypt, through Sudan, and into Ethiopia. Being human, he couldn’t walk on air with us; however, he did insist that we return the book to him. What he hadn’t known was that Felix had already warned me to return our findings to him and only him. I kept my father’s directive from Lario and Fawn, since he could hear everything she was told. Of course, Fawn hadn’t been privy to that detail until I told her. Another deception on his part.

  “Then where is the scroll?” I ask.

  “I’ll show you,” Lorenzo says.

  He walks right through the wall that’s opposite the elevator. I hesitate. For a second, I wonder if my eyes just deceived me. Of course they haven’t. Anything and everything is possible these days. So I follow him into a dusky portal lit by flaming sconces attached to the thick crystal walls. The fresh scent of untainted oxygen lingers in the air. I look at the surface I’m moving across at a rapid pace; it too is made of crystal. We’re not in Enu, but the essence of that world surrounds us on this peaceful journey. No threats linger before or behind us. This sanctuary feels like a warm hug.

  After a few twists and turns, we reach a dense, white vapor mixed with light. I walk through it, following Lorenzo, into an open-air vestibule and climb a cloudy stairway that shoots straight up. Tree branches lord over us. We step out into the woods. The climate is warm and clammy, nothing like the cold November day I just left.

  “The tunnels touch on the edge of Enu,” Lorenzo says. “Any mortal who enters will die.”

  “What a security measure,” I mutter.

  I can’t take my eyes off the bulbous trees, rich and green. Birds are singing. There’s a blue one and a yellow one, and I do recognize the red robin. They’re all perched on the branches, observing us.

  “Are we somewhere in South America?” I ask, remembering that birds migrate south in the winter.

  “This plane is positioned on the northern tip of the state of Vermont.”

  I flinch, taken aback. “Well, did we pass through the winter? It was freezing cold and close to nighttime in this part of the country fifteen minutes ago.”

  “The time-variance continuum under the veil of the protection for the House of Benel is slightly behind the Earth’s rotation.”

  “So it’s summer here?”

  “The end of July.”

  I look at the sky; storm clouds hover. Now I know why. However, that’s it for explanation. Lorenzo starts off, and I follow him. We pass poplar, cedar, oak, and pine trees. There are other types too, maybe maple and birch. After about a mile, we stop in front of an iron-rod fence that easily stands a hundred feet high. Sprawling evergreens are planted behind the bars; the needles of neighboring trees weave into each other, forming a curtain. I can’t see a thing behind the green thistles, not even one centimeter of space.

  I search left and then right for a gate or some other formal entryway, but I don’t see one. “Are we able to go behind this?”

  Without replying, Lorenzo scales the bars as easily as a spider climbs the bark of a tree. He doesn’t have to order me to follow; I know the drill. I take a deep breath and remind myself that this is real and I have the ability to copy his movement.

  I jump and grab the bars. Reach by reach, I pull myself up. Once I flip over the top, exerting great body control, I drop to my feet. There’s barely any impact on my knees. Every time I push myself to these supernatural limits, I have to remind myself not to be shocked. Only the smallest part of me is human. The bigger part of me is Enuian.

  My wide eyes fall over an expansive château-styled, cream-colored mansion with a steeple-topped roof that gives the place an enchanting appearance. There are also lots of high-arched windows, and bay doors cut from fine glass are positioned behind protruding iron-rod terraces. We’re standing on a full lawn of pure green grass, adorned with fountains formed out of pillars of water gushing from spouts dug in the soil.

  “This is the House of Benel, built for the seven daughters of Felix Benel,” Lorenzo says.

  He continues forward and I follow. The inside is just as lavish as the outside. I study the design in the stained-glass domed ceiling that covers the foyer, but Lorenzo gives me no time to figure out what’s taking place in the scene or admire the way the sun sets the colored glass ablaze.

  As we journey through the hallways, we pass lots of rooms. One section seems to be designed in the modern American Minimalist style. The limited amounts of angular furniture in bright colors sit on high-glossed hardwood floors. There are abstract paintings on the walls, shag rugs, and lots of wiry floor lamps. I wonder to whom that area belongs.