Vitrian Secrets - Dele Andersen (best novels to read in english .txt) 📗

saw the person properly: it was a child covered in a black raincoat with the hood pulled over his head so Wanda could not see the face. She knew the person was probably her age even though she felt she was taller.

The child stood alone some distance away, hiding behind the trees. Wanda wasn't sure who it was; neither was she sure the person was trying to conceal her appearance. She could sense the child needed help from the way the child hid behind the trees and stole secret peeps at the funeral.

“Mum,” Wanda shouted, trying to call her mother's attention to the child by the tree. “Mum,” she shouted again, louder this time.

Wanda turned, ready to rush to her mum, and bumped into a woman. The woman grabbed her by the arm; the exceptionally tight grip scared Wanda. She was about to cry out when she noticed how beautiful the woman was; her hair was platinum blonde, and it was pulled back in a ponytail. Her eyes were a unique shade of deep sky blue. She looked so gorgeous that Wanda fixated on her face. She looked into the woman's eyes, but behind all the beauty, she read fear and despair in her expression.

“Listen to me, listen, Wanda,” the woman said in a rush like she was pressed for time.

Both the words and the fact that the woman knew her name caught Wanda's attention. Wanda tried to pull her arm loose.

“Focus, little girl . . . you can save us all. Whatever you do, don't join them.” The woman looked up and signaled in a direction behind Wanda. “They would—”

“Keep your hands off, Celina.”

Wanda’s mum appeared beside them. To Wanda’s shock, her mother slapped the woman's cheek so hard the sound resonated even in the rain. The woman stood straight.

“I am sorry, Sofia,” she said, taking a deep breath.

Wanda looked between her mum and Celina, wondering what was going on.

Her mum spoke in an embittered tone, cutting Celina off. “Keep your hands off my daughter and take your bastard child away from us. Remember, Marcus Troms had only one wife and two children.” Sofia pointed her right forefinger and spoke in a low, harsh tone that only Celina and Wanda could hear.

Wanda heard and felt the detestation in her mother, like a plump enmity existed between her mum and Celina. She looked at Celina’s hopeless face as Sofia pulled Wanda away.

“Times have changed, Sofia,” Celina shouted. A heavy, thunderous sound broke out in the sky as Celina spoke. Wanda shivered as the entire graveyard shook.

Abruptly, Wanda woke up, her body jerking from the bed at a thunderous noise. She had been dreaming, but the sound continued to reverberate in her head. She heard footsteps, like someone in a hurry, and turned and looked in the other direction just as someone rushed out and slammed the door behind them.

For a moment, Wanda felt like she was still at the graveyard as the image of the shutting door mixed with the sound of rain and filled her vision. Then her eyes adjusted to her new environment as her massive migraine began to subside. She squinted to control the headache before opening her eyes.

The room looked like a hospital room; or like an insufficiently equipped clinic room that was perfect and newly built but rarely used. Wanda noticed the bed next to her; it was a hospital bed but had no I.V. stand, no usual hospital equipment. She was about to turn and observe the other side when her mother came rushing through the door, straight to her with wide-open arms.

Sofia hugged Wanda so tightly that Wanda felt choked for a few seconds. Still feeling weak, Wanda lifted her hands and wrapped them around her mother. Sofia pulled back but kept her hands around Wanda's shoulders.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Wanda's voice was low.

“What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” Wanda managed a faint smile. “I dreamed about Dad's funeral.”

“Oh, Wanda,” Sofia said with sympathy. “I don't want you having sad memories . . .”

“It's okay, Mum,” Wanda replied, trying to disregard her mum's compassion. Her father's past aroused her curiosity, and she wanted to discuss it with her mother, who had waved off such discussions in the past. “He's my dad, and I don't mind reminiscing about his funeral.” Wanda remembered Celina and her mother’s words when she spoke to her at the funeral.

“I’m happy you’re awake.” Sofia hugged her daughter again. “You were asleep for almost twenty-two hours,” Sofia added, and Wanda could hear the anxiety in her voice. “I was afraid, I must confess.”

“I'm all right, Mum.” Wanda could see the joy on her mum's face through her eyes, which had heavy bags of sleeplessness underneath lids that looked like they were going to pour out tears. “Do I have another sibling apart from Jason, Mum?” Wanda asked, trying to start up the discussion on Celina.

“Nooooo,” her mum answered with a squint.

“Celina . . .” Wanda said the name and halted. “Who is she, Mum? You've always avoided telling me who she is and why you treated her the way you did at Dad's funeral.”

Sofia looked down.

“We should discuss this some other time. Not now, Wanda.” Sofia paused. “I watched you all day while you were asleep.” She put a sincere smile on her face.

Her mum was still dressed in the clothes she’d worn the day before. Remembering that day, Wanda's body stiffened in horror.

“What is it?” Sofia tensed as if Wanda had passed an instant virus to her.

“What happened yesterday?” Wanda asked as despair filled her.

“The Vitrians arrived before the demon could . . . could kill you.” Sofia looked down.

“All I remember is the demon hitting you, I was almost unconscious from the panic, and I thought I saw arrows . . . arrows above me.”

“Yes, they were arrows meant for the demon; I thought they were meant for you, too, because they were coming in your direction. And then the demon jumped over you, and the arrows struck it.”

“The arrows would have struck me.” Wanda was fretful.

Bathe stepped into the room, interrupting their conversation and invading their privacy. “Yes . . .”

Sofia turned toward Bathe as he stepped to her side.

“The Vitrians are very precise,” she said. “They claim they knew the demon was going to leap at you. The arrows would have missed the demon if they had directed the arrows at it, so they targeted where it was going—your position.”

Wanda frowned. Shooting the arrows at her meant disaster for her, but fortunately, the creature had leaped as they predicted, so she was saved. It disturbed her that she might have been the actual target. But she waved the idea off, knowing the Vitrians were trying to save her. She was glad they showed up on time.

“I felt its weight on me,” she said.

“What weight?” her mother asked.

“The thing—the demon, it was like a huge rock pressing down on me. But it didn't feel like it wanted to hurt me.”

“No,” Bathe answered from behind Sofia. Bathe was not wearing the clothes he’d had on the day before. He was now dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a navy-blue long sleeve linen shirt with brown and white buttons. His black hair was combed and looked better than it had when the demon was chasing them.

“I mean,” Wanda corrected, looking into Bathe's eyes, but she wasn't concentrating on his features; she was busy mulling over everything. “I felt its strong arms when it held me, but . . . it was not trying to crush me.” She blinked several times, trying to remember, because she was partially unconscious when the incident happened.

“That demon was out to kill,” Bathe assured her in a firm tone. “I've never seen anything like it; it was different and did things I’ve never experienced demons do before. The rebels might be trying to kill you.”

Wanda's heart skipped a beat at the thought. She looked at Bathe's face but didn’t see conviction in his expression. It seemed Bathe didn't even believe what he'd just said about the rebels. The impression she had all through their journey about Bathe not truly being the man to help get them to safety suddenly returned.

“They know you are a threat to them, Wanda.” Bathe’s voice lacked strength.

Wanda was about to question this further when her mother interrupted.

“We should leave discussing the rebels till later.”

Wanda heard the frustration in her mum's voice and knew she hadn’t really accepted that the arrows were meant for the demon.

“Wanda should rest now,” Sofia added.

“Where am I?” Wanda asked as she looked away from Bathe toward her mum. They both smiled.

“You are in the medical section of a Vitrian Fortress,” Sofia answered.

“The Vitrian Fortress?” Wanda looked around the room once more, studying the items. She noticed a hospital room divider folded in the corner of the room. The equipment she'd expected to see was available but looked untouched. The hospital must rarely be used.

The relief that they’d finally made it to the Vitrians' Fortress, the place known to have supernatural protection against demons, overwhelmed her. She turned back to Bathe and her mum with a smile on her face. They were safe from the enormous grayish-white creature that had the strength to overcome the power in Bathe's Praying Méndez.

“Jason.” Wanda thought of her brother and spoke his name at the same time. She raised her eyes to see Sofia's expression instantly turn melancholic. Wanda looked at Bathe for answers but noticed Bath place his hand on Sofia's shoulder as she sat in front of Wanda.

“Jason is still in the emergency operating room,” Bathe answered. “The doctors took some blood when we arrived and went straight to operate on him.”

“And?” Wanda demanded, with some reservations about the outcome and what Bathe was going to say.

“They are still at it.” Bathe was breathless, and Wanda could see he was worried about the issue too.

She stared at Bathe, this cryptic man who suddenly looked concerned for Jason's survival. Wanda could not figure him out.

Uncertainty, despair, and a bit of nausea engulfed her.

“That . . . that's more than a whole day gone,” Wanda said, and instantly regretted saying it when she saw her mother's panicked reaction.

Sofia shook her head. She looked the way she had the day she got the news about Wanda’s father's death.

“Jason will be all right, I'm sure,” Sofia said, but her words broke, and her voice unmasked her lack of confidence.

“Can I see him?”

“No, Wanda,” Bathe replied.

“He's in the operating room now,” Sofia said. “I was only allowed to see him briefly when we arrived as he was being wheeled to the room.”

Wanda looked down, dejected and somewhat frustrated. She was on the brink of tears but realized that would only break her mother down completely. Wanda couldn't help but feel that Jason was her responsibility and she had let him down. She let him out of her sight only for a moment at school, and now he was dying. Her mum's warning, every morning as they left for school that she should watch out for Jason, was painfully drilled into her heart.

Unwittingly, Wanda's mind recalled how Jason would narrate their dad's stories to his friends at school. How he would tell them stories about fighting demons and overcoming them, and how he made the stories sound so convincing, although he wasn't sure of their veracity. She had no doubt whatsoever that Jason would have put up whatever kind of fight he could once he knew he was with a demon. Unlike her, Jason never doubted or stopped fantasizing about the existence of demons and angels. She knew their mother spent a lot of time with him, trying to wipe the stories from his memory.

Reminiscing on how curious Jason was about demons and their tales brought pain to Wanda's body; nonetheless, she withheld her tears.

“I should have gone to the library with him . . .”

“You shouldn't blame yourself.”

Wanda heard a deep and husky voice behind Bathe and raised her head to see a tall,