Blood & Ashes

Act III: The Impossible

Chaska's eyes snapped open and he inhaled red dust, coughing. He spat out the rotten essence of sulfur and charred meat. His attention moved diagonally to his outspread arm, and the air evaporated from his lungs. The veins had gone black and, as if serpents writhed under his skin, the darkness seemed to be alive. He attempted to pick himself up off the ground, but when he tried to make his muscles move, the black contracted, forbidding movement. He'd awoken with his heart pounding, but his panic swelled exponentially. A figure moved silently across the cavern floor, appearing in Chaska's line of vision and his heart stopped. Dyani. His reasons for coming here, for doing this, pounded his consciousness like rain. Anything. He'd do anything to right the wrong he had done all those years ago. He started to open his mouth, but the muscles in his neck tightened, the serpents crawling from the bottom of his throat and up his jaw. The veins in his arm pulsed and Chaska only managed to rake his trembling fingers through the dust. He had to warn her; she couldn't be near him when he had no control over his own body.

Dyani's form slipped farther into the light, the planes of her face sharpening in the pieces of shadow. "Chaska?"

Chaska widened his eyes, hoping Dyani would see and understand his silent message to her. With all he had, Chaska fought against the force holding him. He managed to shake his head, but to him if felt like no more than a spasm.

Dyani cocked her head.

He repeated the same small movement but exhaled through his nose as exhaustion blanketed him. Stay away, he wanted to scream.

The force slithered its way up his face, the pressure in his eyes increasing to the point of watering. His eardrums popped and the world was sucked into a vacuum, a gradual ringing taking over. As the high-pitched ring faded, voices speaking a foreign language took its place. They dwindled in and out of perceptibility like a foggy window wiped clear with the cuff of a sleeve. A shiver spider-crawled under Chaska's skin. Dyani's lips moved, but the orchestra of voices drowned her out.

Despite the cold sweat that had broken out on Chaska's skin, a heat replaced the cool darkness flowing through him. His legs muscles tightened and pulled underneath his body, his arms sliding beneath his torso. Without him telling them to, they pushed him into a standing position, wholly graceful and unwavering.

Dyani's hand inched behind her head to grasp an arrow, and from the glossiness of her eyes, he could tell she felt the same emotions as him.

He widened his eyes as much as he could, praying to the Creator that she could see him fighting the darkness. Run! he shouted within himself. Leave me here and don't come back.

The heat morphed into an emotion, a burning desire that terrified Chaska to understand what it was. An urge that had been planted in his core responded to the voices chanting for death. Chaska's head tilted, and his mouth drew upward into a smile. Swifter than he thought his body should be able to move, before Dyani could nock an arrow, his hand wrapped around her throat and slammed her body against the cavern wall.

No! he thought. No, no, no!

Dyani clawed at his arm, and where her fingers dug into the black, tingles shot across his skin.

The cacophony in Chaska's mind demanded he kill her. The voices sang for her blood, pleading to have the ritual completed. His grip around Dyani tightened, the heave of her chest melting into a slight twitch of muscle. Take my breath, he thought. Please, Dyani. Take it, take it, take it. Starting at his feet and traveling up his legs, Chaska released a roar that sent the voices skittering. He ripped apart the black webs that had bound him in his own mind. His throat had gone raw, yet he continued to beg, to fight, praying the Creator would let Dyani breathe just once more. He pried the darkness away from his throat, black leeches pulling out of his skin. Take my breath, he thought and unleashed a bellow that echoed through the cavern, forcing the black ropes over his hand to snap. Chaska screamed until his empty lungs constricted, twisting every muscle in his abdomen. Anything, he begged. I'll do anything—please.

His fingers opened and Dyani dropped to the floor, sucking in a tattered breath.

Chaska reeled away, confusion roiling in his gut. Even though the blackness controlling every muscle had been severed, his arms still felt like they were harboring parasites. He peered into his mind, expecting to see that spider spinning its shadow webs, but it was dark, vacant. "Are you okay?" His throat felt like gravel. She didn't answer. "Are you okay?" he asked again, panic sliding through him. He whipped around, but the fire had gone out. He called to her once more, stretching his hand out, Dyani's cold one grasping his as he pulled her toward him.

"I'm alright." Her voice sounded like Chaska felt—exhausted.

The wind whistling outside the cavern drowned out Chaska's thoughts, and he was thankful for it because he couldn't stand hearing the utter emptiness inside. His muscles, though, felt powerful, and every step—even though his organs felt like they were shaking—did not waver. He turned, searching for the logs in the middle of the cavern, the darkness pressing behind his eyes. He had to get a fire going.

"Chaska, what are you doing?"

Dyani's hands had been so cold, yet heat swept through Chaska's body. He paused his search for the center of the cavern long enough to say, "I'm so sorry, Dyani. I could have killed you."

"You didn't."

Chaska's chest twitched but the chuckle died in his throat. "That's twice now I've put your life in danger. There was a reason I locked you in your room."

"Oh, so it was better to let you come here on your own?"

"Yes!" Chaska dragged a hand down his face, releasing a sigh. He glanced to the cavern opening, disappointed he couldn't see any stars through the clouds. "But," he turned to Dyani, "you're the reason I didn't stop fighting. I saw you and remembered myself. You...kept me here. Thank you."

"Are you okay?"

Chaska nodded. "Fine. Help me get a fire going, would you?" He felt the space between him and Dyani close, her presence a warm breath on his chin.

"Chaska, there's already a fire going. It's been going all night."

"What fire?"

"The one right in front of you! It's right—" Dyani fell silent. "My left eye," she gasped, "I can see the fire out of the peripheral of my left eye."

"But that's—"

"Impossible."

Hands cupped Chaska's face, and as Dyani's voice broke, he realized that the darkness pushing against his eyes wasn't darkness at all—it was nothing. No black webs or shadows, only a void, an emptiness where his sight used to be. He grasped Dyani's hands, frantically kneading his fingers across the inside of her wrists as he fought to catch his breath. "Dyani—"

"What did you do?"

Anything.

Chaska angled his face toward Dyani's voice. "I told it I'd do anything."

Dyani yanked her hands away. "So, what, this thing that's now inside you listened?"

Chaska swallowed, trying to wrap his head around everything that just happened. He attempted to speak but stumbled over his words. "You can see?"

Dyani must have nodded her head because she stuttered an apology and then said, "It's like the accident never happened."

Chaska's eyes burned as he pulled his sister to his chest, nuzzling his cheek on her head. Her hair smelled of lemon verbena soap laced with wood smoke. He held Dyani tighter, letting her presence ground him.

"The stars are beautiful tonight," Dyani whispered, her cheek bobbing against Chaska's sternum. "A'tse'ets'ozi is up. I wish you could see it."