By Ouanessa Nana
Bobby’s brown hair is slicked in sweat and his teeth are stained black. I placed my hand in his and squeezed it, his fingers are sharply cold, the chill nipping the warmth from my skin.
He trembles in return.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. Malachi and I have been hovering over him ever since he got sick, trying to think of some way to save him, to stop him from dying.
The Bavaria weather was hasty today. Our hair is disheveled from the vengeful winds. They brisk through the city, so sharp and so stimulating, I don’t know how we managed to escape whiplash.
Malachi stepped towards the large window alongside the withering door, supporting Bobby with his right arm to get a better look at the dark red letters on the broken wooden sign: Lady Cybele: Fortune Teller, Healer.
“Are you sure about this Malachi?” I breathed. “We still have time to seek out other options.”
Malachi stares at me and sighs. “What other choice do we have Robin?” There are dark circles under his eyes and his voice is coarse.
This is a huge mistake, I think to myself but the thought quickly vanishes from my mind as I look at Bobby’s and Malachi’s pleading eyes, desperation threading them to the point of collapse.
Bobby is short of breath, his amber eyes in protest as they fought to keep themselves open and alert. I could hear his weak heart beating, searing against the pressure of his bones turning to dust.
I just hope she doesn’t bring up the last time I was here. When I was covered in grime and dry blood, dragging the body of an old corpse, the molting skin between my fingers and their name tattooed on my tongue.
I nod and place my hand on the doorknob and twist it open. A small old woman is wearing a black dress and a long pale yellow caftan embedded in green pearls.
“I’ve been expecting you.” She reaches out and grabs our hands one by one. When she takes a hold of mine her fingers dig into my wrist and she pulls me so close to her face that I could feel her warm breath on my skin.
Her eyes are midnight black, shiny obsidian, and I try not to stare at them but I can’t. It’s like there’s an invisible pull that won’t let me look away. I quickly wriggle out of her grip and swallow hard.
“We are here because we need your help,” I say, trying to breathe as I felt my heart pounding under my chest.
“Yes of course.” She replies, a small grin playing on her lips.
Malachi stirred, a glint of ambition in his green eyes, his cheeks flushed. His blonde hair was almost white in the glare of her lanterns. Most days he was an assortment of unyielding courage and pristine edges, razor-sharp jaw, crystal white teeth, his black blazer with our school crest closely fitted around his shoulders. But there was a bit of a quiver that danced beneath his veins, something I had never seen before.
“Our friend is dying,” Malachi says. “Please save him. You’re the only one that can help.”
“Follow me,” Lady Cybele says.
I catch Bobby’s eye, he hasn’t moved and he’s staring at her, deep in thought. Then I notice the glint of a sharp blade tucked away in the back of his pants.
“Is everything alright?” I ask him.
He leans towards me and whispers. “What are we doing here?”
“You know exactly why we’re here.”
“To waste money on an overpriced physic?” He said.
Who said we were paying her with money?” I muttered.
“What?”
I linked my arm with his and followed her through the narrow hallway. “Nevermind. Let’s go.”
When we arrived in the room there was a round table with a black cloth over it and at the center was a light blue crystal ball.
Lady Cybele gestures her head to the chairs surrounding the table and when we all take a seat, Bobby stumbles towards the chair, and a surge of black sludge spills from his lips.
She rushes towards him and helps him to his seat. “When did this start to happen?”
“Just last weekend after a birthday party that was in the Timberland Woods,” Malachi says.
Lady Cybele looks at me with her beady black eyes, her lips in a straight line and I know she is scolding me. It was the same place I found the body and the place she told me to never return to.
She shakes her head. “You’re lucky you came to me when you did.”
“So you can save him?!” Malachi shouts, practically jumping from his seat.
She smiles at him. “Yes. But first I need to see the full picture.” She places her hands on the crystal ball and her head jerks forward. Then her eyes glow, blasting a blinding light.
I take Bobby’s hand and Malachi takes mine.
“Robin Clem, a headless apparition, anchored to a deceased earth in a colorless force.” She shrieks.
Bobby barely raises an eyebrow at me but I shrug my shoulders but it doesn’t numb the fermions twist that takes over my stomach. I look over at Malachi but his gaze is focused on Lady Cybele.
“Malachi Burns, “A shimmer of gold among the sacred, your deceit will fester and scar the people you love. You can’t allow your false passions to determine your life.” She continues.
Malachi’s eyes were green flames, tinged in flickering blue, yet he still kept his composure. His face was still masked with the emotions he wanted to portray.
Then he looks at me, his expression soft. “I love you, Robin. I always have. But my love isn’t like yours. If I had to choose between my family or following you into the dark, I wouldn’t choose you.”
The dark. So he knows what I truly am. I nod, understanding, and still an ache in my chest blooms with a fierce intensity that I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself from screaming.
“Bobby Nash, the blemished default. One day your hands will be tainted by time stolen from your very own.”
Malachi leans over the table, gripping the cloth with his fingers. “Blemished default. What does that mean? You can fix it right?”
“Yes, I have just the tincture for this.”
I pick at my fingers refusing to look at her anymore.
“Expectations are transmissible,” she says. “With the right amount of pressure they can give you every miracle, offer absolute content.”
I clenched my teeth. “So is fear.”
She ignores me and gets up to leave. When she returns, she places a glass of dark brown liquid in front of all three of us.
“Bobby is the only one sick. Why do we have to drink the tincture?” Malachi asked.
“The two of you have been in contact with him and are possibly exposed. So this is just a precaution.” She says.
Bobby picks up his glass and finishes it in three gulps, most of it streaming down his neck.
We quickly see the effects, Bobby’s skin has returned to its natural color and the tinge of pink is back on his cheeks. He stands and jumps around the room laughing.
Malachi is wiping tears from his eyes. I can’t even help but smile. Then Bobby takes a deep exaggerated breath and pulls us into a tight hug.
Still, miracles aren’t just granted. They are eroded and marred from the dark. As long as we bask in this light, a debt will have to be paid for it.