Arizal Wars Series

Chapter 3: Escort Part 3

Three sprinting strides and the ground's been slapped out from me. It slams into my back and head again, jolting my body with a sting before everything tightens to a paralyzing state.

"Boy, you can move," he sails in front of me, landing on his feet with catlike ease. "I expected it but..." and he exhales to himself, surprised.

I try to run but my ankles are bound, magnetized by invisible restraints. I sit up too quickly and without help from my arms, my stomach roars with instant regret. My hands are stuck, glued to the small of my back, bound by tangible space, like handcuffs made of air. Clarence approaches, standing over me, his body cut out from the grim, gray sky behind him.

"Now wasn't that fun?"

I search, my eyes darting fiercely, trying to find some way out of this. What are my other options? What else can I do? Is there someone nearby? I'm as good as dead anyway but I've got to try.

"Fallon..."

I let it out. The one good scream I've got in me. It's a blood-curdling cry that rips all the air from my lungs, alarming someone - anyone - that I'm here. That I'm about to be gone if they don't come and help. I know it's a long shot but what else can I do? Screaming is the best reaction to this. And also, the only reaction to him. How is he on the house one second and running side by side with me the next? Who is he? And better yet... what is he?

"There's no point in screaming..." he laughs, indicating the obvious openness, "no one can hear you."

I'm tempted to do it again, to let out all fear pumping through me, but his light heartedness distracts me, boiling my insides with contempt. I'll be another dead body in a few seconds and he seems utterly amused by it. I'm not giving him any more pleasure.

"Do it!"

"Do what?" his nonplussed expression takes me off guard. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you," and now his voice strengthens. "I'm not here to hurt you."

I roll my head back to the upside down trees, searching, seeking. But there's nothing, nothing that can help me. If he hasn't killed me by now, there's got to be a chance. Maybe I can talk him into letting me go. He enjoys conversing. Maybe I can trick him into freeing me.

"What do you want?" I look to him, trying to keep the anger from my tone.

"Are we to have the same conversation?"

"Tell me the truth."

"I've already tried," he tilts his head condescendingly, just enough to make a point. "You won't listen."

"Explain it again."

"Which part?"

"What you are!" I shout, casting a stare out to the trees. It still seems like a dream. How did he get there so fast? And then back again?

"I don't think we went over that..." he brushes a finger to his chin, considering. "Although you rushed out so quickly..."

"Clarence," I speak through gritted teeth, unsure whether its anger or fear fueling the tone, "tell me again."

"What do you want to know?"

"Everything!"

He's kneeling on the ground in an instant, his azure eyes shifting between mine. His mouth curves into a smirk. "You'll figure it out... when you understand what you're looking for."

Is this a riddle? Or is he trying to push me over the edge now he knows I can't escape? It must be punishment for fleeing, for attempting to save my life. But what would he have me do?

"But I don't know what I'm looking for!" I scream at him again. "You're not telling me anything!"

"You didn't want to hear any of it before..." Clarence scratches his chin again, weighing his options as if either could work toward his benefit, "but if you really want to know the secret to it all, here it is," he leans closer, holding my focus with his. He wants to make sure I hear him. Make sure I'm listening to what he says. "Your memories are powerful... but your dreams will give you truth."

Another riddle. What am I supposed to do with that? He smirks as if he'd revealed the location to Atlantis but I, a mere land dweller, can't sail a ship. Back on his feet, he casts a view north.

"It's time."

"For?"

"Our departure," he looks to me as he begins to pace, hands casually in his pockets. "I told you I prefer the term 'escort.' The others just don't quite fit. I'm not introducing you to a new religion - not yet at least. Once you get to Harrizel, you can decide for yourself. And I'm not snatching you under a cloak in the middle of the night."

"Just the afternoon?" I tug at my wrist restraints behind my back. Something hard like brick presses deep into my skin so I stop.

"And liar," he goes on, "well, that's not really an occupation - just a way to get what you want. So again, it comes back to escort."

"Can I still call you Clarence?"

He stops, offering a slight bow. "You may."

"Then why does it matter what you call yourself?" I ask through gritted teeth, struggling to sit up. "You're taking me regardless."

"This is true..." he nods, peering down, "but I'd rather you feel accompanied rather than taken. You're going home, Fallon," he waves his hand slowly, as if wiping something clean from the air, the restraints disappearing from my hands and feet. "To start your new life."

I massage my free wrists, rubbing release into the joints. The thought of fleeing rises but the field is too wide to run off in any direction. He'd catch me. He'd catch me in less than a second. And I'd only be bound again.

"You are correct," it's as if he's reading my mind, his focus off on the distant trees. "Better to just come along with me. It'd be less painful for you."

"And these are my options?"

"Sadly."

I scowl, angered and terrified all at once. "Where are you taking me?"

"To your new home, Harrizel."

"Which is?"

"Jeb will explain things further. I haven't done a very good job and for that, I apologize. You'll learn soon enough and if Jeb doesn't teach you, the others will."

"Others?"

"Yes - the other survivors. You think you're the only one who escaped the war? Harrizel hosts a little over four hundred humans."

Other survivors? Humans? Then this is real? I shut my hanging jaw and replay his words. Harrizel hosts a little over four hundred humans. Is that all that's left of us? Or all that he's taken?

"And growing?" I try to gauge an idea.

"Hopefully," he nods, "that's my job. To find you... and escort you to Harrizel," he offers his hand.

Escape is futile. But if I go with him, there's a chance I'd never be able to leave. I could try and make my way back... but to what? I don't even remember this place. Not yet at least. But what other choice do I have?

"Will I ever come back here?" I ask, slipping my hand in his. It's oversized, like a catcher's mitt and he uses it to pull me from the ground.

"To what? This is no longer your home. This is no longer anyone's home," he threads our fingers as the same invisible air restraints lock our wrists together. "Ready?"

The wind sweeps through the distant trees, shaking them in unison as if waving a final goodbye. I nod, squeezing Clarence's hand tight.

And then we're up.