Light and Dark Eternal Ch. 02

The Sentinel Stands

Darby breathed deeply, the roses and irises always the first scents to greet her. She kept her eyes closed, soaking in every sound and smell, letting it transport her. Rushing to the garden never worked, patience was necessary. The wind picked up, tossing her long auburn curls around and bringing her closer with every scent. Under the roses and irises, she picked out strawberry, lime, barley, salty sea air, and layers of other smells she didn't have names for, but was familiar with nonetheless. They were her garden gateway. The whisper winds swirled through the branches speaking to her, reminding her of who she was, vexed that she'd forgotten again. She apologized, as she always did, and promised to remember. The chirps and purring of a barn owl made her smile, the night sounds of the forest comforting. Focusing her senses she caught the faint crash of waves. That was always the last key, and she felt the click as everything fell into place. Opening her eyes, she smiled. She was home.

The woods were thick, the canopy hiding the stars and the full moon above. But she could see just fine. Twilight was gathered within every leaf, berry, shrub, and tree trunk. Even the ground reflected the bioluminescent glow of the waves rolling in on the shore. Each step her bare feet snuffed out the soft blue light only to have it spring forth as her heels left the earth.

The smile never left her face as she stretched her arms out to the side, running her fingertips along the hanging branches, feeling the life of every living thing in the woods flow through her until their cores sang their songs as one. She was flooded with joy, and her eyes brightened, glowing the same color blue beneath her feet.

Winding through a tunnel carved out of the center of four massive weeping birch trees, she pulled a curtain of leafy vines aside and stepped through. Surrounded by green, the garden was bathed in moonlight, the canopy appearing to bend backward creating a natural skylight above. Four stone pillars, seven feet high and three feet across, were on the outskirts of the garden's largest circle at the most north, south, east, and west points. Symbols had been carved into the stone; suns, moons, stars, and others she never got a close look at. Vines draped over each, their flowers in full bloom, and roses, cultivated into trees with hanging branches, filled the space between the pillars. The rose bushes on the ground beneath creating rose walls of striking red, white, yellow and blue. Four overlapping circles, a few inches wide, of smooth colorful stones were embedded in the ground. They caught the light of the moon and glowed softly, reflecting the heart of the garden and the love it represented.

Darby stepped over the stones until she was in the center circle and glanced towards his path. It was broader, sloping down into the woods, and much less hidden than hers. Who arrived first was a toss-up, but they always waited for the other in the center of the garden. She looked at the blanket of stars above, tracing the constellations. The whisper winds blew through the garden, ruffling her simple off the shoulder white dress, announcing his arrival. A hand slid around her waist, while the other pulled her hair over her shoulder, the breeze trying to tug it from his grasp. A tender kiss to her neck sent warmth cascading down her limbs and she leaned back into him. After a moment he turned her around and rested a hand on the small of her back. Holding her hand tucked under his shoulder he began to sway. She smiled and raised her eyes to his. Shadowed, with only the barest hint of jaw and brow, his face was never visible. But it didn't matter, she knew him. She loved him. And while she couldn't see his smile, she felt it. Resting her head on his chest, she got lost in their dance. He hummed the tune, the winds mimicking the sounds, bringing the song from their shared heart into the world. Nothing was ever spoken, it was felt.

He danced her back into the center circle and grasped her chin, coaxing her head up. The lines of his face just tugged at her perception, but if she tried to focus the shadow shifted, as if the faces of multiple men were trying to push their way to the fore, to be seen. His lips enveloped hers and the currents running within the earth roared upward, spiraling through their limbs setting them on fire. The heat pulsed behind her eyes, the blue glow brightening. Suddenly her dress pooled around her feet and he held her closer, the stiffness in his pants igniting that ache between her legs only he inspired. They didn't have sex every visit to the garden, but with him it was always worth it. When she started to remove his shirt, he scooped her up in his arms and knelt down. His lips drifted across her neck, the slight flicker of his tongue mini explosions of pleasure. Laying her on the soft, downy grass, he looked her over and she felt the change within him, saw it as his own eyes began to glow. Burning orbs the color of the sun trapped her and her breath caught in her throat. Lust and domination. She'd never felt this raw, bestial instinct to claim, to possess her. What surprised her even more was how she reacted.

She stretched her arms over head and arched her back up, inviting him to take, to make her his. His clothing came off and she quivered in anticipation, his large solid frame, blocking the sky. He took hold of her wrists in one hand, and the other slipped under her back. Forcing her chest up, he bowed her torso, presenting her body to him as an offering. An offering he devoured. Squeezing her breast, he brushed his thumb back and forth over the nipple, while feasting on the other. Then he switched, giving each the same punishing and titillating attention. She wanted to run her fingers through his thick black hair, and tried to pull her wrists free, but he tightened his grip and a growl reverberated through him. Claiming meant her complete submission, and that was her one warning. A part of her wanted to push to find out what he'd do, but he didn't give her a chance.

His rough calloused fingers slid between her legs, caressing her with a feathery touch that was akin to torture. She writhed, curling her hips up, begging, and he threw a leg over hers immobilizing her. He pressed his fingers into her flesh, stroking and pinching her clit, the pain and pleasure making her hips twitch. She did beg then, a silent scream for completion. Satisfaction surged through him and the weight if his body settled onto hers. But his tortuous manipulations weren't over. He gently caressed her neck with his cheek, kissing the flesh just under her ear, and softly growling, the vibrations a bell striking chords of lust throughout her body. The heat behind her eyes intensified and the aroma of his desire swirled around them like a cloud. She begged again, and he slid his throbbing cock between her folds sending her into a frenzy. Mine, floated up from the depths of his consciousness, his entire being encapsulating hers. He increased the pressure until she was screaming she was his over and over again.

He crowed in victory and buried himself inside of her. The relief was instantaneous, the sensations so exquisite tears welled up in her eyes. He switched his grip, taking hold of her hands and stretching them out wide, curling her chest against his, and pushing his cock upward, rocking her hips back. She gasped the pleasure unfamiliar and her hips bucked forward after every rock back enveloping him greedily. The possession was complete, and she wanted it. She needed it. Hooking her ankles around his thighs she tightened her muscles with ever thrust, pulling him in deeper. The beast within responded and he drove himself into her hard and fast, sounds of pleasure rolling across his chest. Steam rose from their bodies, the heat pouring off them like lava and rolling across the garden. The soft glowing stone circles were suddenly blindingly bright, their light soaring towards the heavens. Pleasure pulsed throughout her body and she moaned continuously, wishing she could dig her nails into his back. His grunts got deeper and louder, and mine roared through their shared heart setting them both ablaze. The pulses of pleasure coalesced in her core and she erupted, the blaze consuming her as euphoria flooded her limbs. With one final hard thrust, my love echoed through her soul, and he held himself there, his ragged breathing hot against her skin. After a minute he engulfed her in his arms, his kiss a promise. One he made every time.

She felt the familiar tug and held onto him, not wanting to leave. The whisper winds swirled through the garden and she was suddenly back in her dress and holding onto to the leafy curtain. She looked at him, standing at the edge of his path, and knew instantly something was wrong. A deep growl welled up from his chest, and suddenly the man was gone, swallowed entirely by the beast. A beast in immense pain and enraged. The winds whipped through the trees and the curtain was yanked from her hand by an unseen force. She was pulled backwards through the tunnel, the whisper winds reminding her to remember. An anguished wail tore through the night and guilt squeezed her heart like a vice.

Darby's eyes flew open her heart aching. The wail was already fading away, as well as the dream. She'd been to the garden, like she had thousands of times over the years. It was her only recurring dream, at least the only one she'd been having since she was thirteen. She tried to recall it fully, but it was in bits and pieces. She'd filled notebook after notebook journaling the many variations of the dream, but something important was always just out of reach, and no matter how hard she tried, she could never remember what that was.

***************

Larken looked out the window as the plane started its descent. The excitement washed away the fatigue of the flight and she glanced at her mom. She had just woken up and was shaking out her hair. At forty-three, her round cheeks still made her look about six years younger, and her blue eyes caught the morning sun, giving them an almost ethereal glow. Larken still marveled at how different they looked. One summer her bangs turned curly, and just her bangs. So she'd spent a few years straightening them until they grew out. Now, they added waves to the front, framing her heart shaped face, and depending on her mood, her hazel eyes could turn green or brown. But what she and her mother did share were curves. When she was younger it had been rough not being rail thin like so many of her peers, but as she got older she came to appreciate who she was and what she had.

"Well rested?" Larken asked.

"It's the only way to fly."

The sleeping pills had worked like magic, knocking her out for the majority the flight, which was a relief. Her mother's nerves were on the edge of raw. She'd been almost uncooperative with the Blakes, who'd bent over backwards in their eagerness to meet them. At first she'd declined the invitation of a visit, saying she didn't want to impose on family she'd never met, and suggested the possibility of meeting halfway. Since that was either in the ocean or Greenland, Larken refused. She wanted to see the island her family had called home for hundreds of years. Then her mother kept pushing the visit back until Larken threatened to go without her. When the Blakes hinted this particular week wasn't the best time, her mother jumped on it, insisting this was the only time she could get away, blaming her job. Larken had been bewildered by this, it wasn't like her mother to be so standoffish and difficult. Unlike Larken she didn't seem at all thrilled about finding their roots and the family that came with.

The green of England filled the window and Larken practically pressed her face against the glass, the joy she felt reminiscent of that first phone call from the Blakes. Her grandmother's family. Her family. Researching the Island of Frith was like falling down a rabbit hole of myth and legend. So weeding out truth from fiction presented its own problems, but she loved the mystery.

The wheels touched down and Larken's heart raced, the nervousness and excitement making her stomach flutter. As they taxied to the gate her phone vibrated. "Lilly says welcome. She's been tracking the flight and can't wait for us to arrive. They're already cooking up the feast for tonight."

Her mother smiled. "I'm glad you two have gotten so close."

Larken was tempted to tell her she could be close to their family too, but bit her tongue. Her mother was keeping the Blakes at arm's length until she learned more about why her own mother ran away and hid her true identity. The explanation the family gave wasn't enough, and while Larken could somewhat understand, she preferred to give the Blakes the benefit of the doubt. Especially since her grandmother, a stickler for honesty and integrity, had lied to her about their family her entire life.

Once they retrieved their luggage Larken started leading the way to the train station. "We need to get on the Heathrow Express to London, so we can catch the next train to the coast."

"You don't say?" her mother said, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Alright," Larken said, without slowing. "I can't help it. We're here. We're actually here!"

Her mother smiled, and they managed to get on the express right before the doors closed. Once they got to London Paddington Station, Larken searched the schedule and found a train to Bellhaven leaving in less than ten minutes.

"Come on," she said. "We can get there even earlier than expected."

"Are you sure you don't want to take a side trip into London?" her mother asked. "We could take a ride on the London Eye, see Buckingham Palace?"

Larken stopped dead and said, "London? It's almost four hours to Bellhaven as it is, and we're supposed to meet the whole family tonight. Are you serious or just messing with me?"

Her mother's eyes got really wide. "Me? Mess with you? Would a mother do that to her daughter?"

Before Larken could give a sarcastic retort, her mother rushed off forcing her to chase after in order to keep up. They got on the train with minutes to spare, and Larken pulled out her phone and texted Lilly, letting her know they were on their way. Once the train started moving she finally relaxed or tried too. The train kept picking up speed and she looked at her mother surprised.

Her mother grinned and said, "Not like the Metra back home is it?"

"Holy crap," Larken muttered.

The countryside flew by and Larken loved every moment. Everything was so green, and listening to the various English dialects, as well as a few people speaking French and Italian, filled her with joy. She'd always hoped to travel and now she was in England.

Her mother pulled a book on the history of Bellhaven and the Sentinel out of her bag and said, "You should try and get some rest. Maybe even a little sleep."

Larken smiled and said, "I'll try."

She laid her head back and looked out the window while her mother read. But rest was elusive. She was too excited, for the first time in twenty-one years she was going home.

*************************

Thomas was about to get in the car when he noticed a change in the air. He looked towards the woods. Six of them were hidden in the brush, their eyes on him. It was like they knew.

Howling had been heard all over the island the past few days. Even a few of the tourists had noticed. They'd been appeased easily. The winds being the most logical and believable explanation.

Thomas smiled and said, "I'm on my way to the Sentinel. I'm bringing them home." They didn't respond, but he didn't expect them too. Thomas got in the car and drove for Pinter's Cove. He need to get the boat ready and head for Sentinel. They were only an hour away.

*************************

Larken snapped awake. It felt like she'd just closed her eyes. She tried to grasp the dream as it slipped away, but she couldn't, and after a minute she brushed it off entirely.

"Bellhaven," her mother said. "I don't know if sleeping for half an hour is going to be very helpful."

"I'll be fine," Larken said. "Let's get to the Sentinel."

The rolling hills of Bellhaven surrounded them, the salty tang of the ocean carried on the breeze. Signs pointed every direction and when Larken started walking up the hill, her suitcase rolling behind, her mother laughed. "We can get a ride to the shore you know."

I want to see it from the top of the hill," Larken said. "The old Bell house has the best view, and it's where Bellhaven began. If you looked at the history Aunt Vi sent us, you know there are more than a few Bells scattered throughout the family tree."

"I wish you'd been this interested in history when you were younger," her mother said.

"If it were as fascinating as our own, I would have been," Larken replied.

The street was filled with shops and cafes, the stretch between the train station and the Bell house, a main tourist thoroughfare. Before they even reached the top, the peak was visible. Coming up over the ridge, Larken stopped, the old gate to the Bell house on her right. A path wound around the house, enabling people to look inside the widows and see the home as it was when the Bell farm became coastal property.

"The storm has passed, and the sentinel stands."

Larken looked at her mother, who was standing in front of a grey stone monument on the other side of the gate at the exact place Marcus Bell said those words. They were chiseled into the stone, with the names of those lost on one side, and a tribute to Marcus and Maggie Bell on the other.

In the late sixteenth century a solar eclipse plunged the countryside into darkness, terrifying the populace. Some believed it was a portent of death, and in a strange twist of fate, death followed two days later. Heavy storms ravaged the hills, culminating in a series of earthquakes that redrew the coastline. The loss of life could have been catastrophic, but Marcus and Maggie Bell rode through the torrential rains, rounded up everyone they could, and brought them back to the Bell family farm. A few families refused, choosing to ride out the weather on their own. They all perished when the earth opened up. Those who'd taken sanctuary with the Bells survived.

The most popular myth was a witch made a deal with the devil, and he dug his hand into the earth and dragged away her enemies, and those innocents unlucky enough to get caught in his grasp. Other's swore it was the hand of God, punishing the citizenry for their wickedness. But regardless of the myth, and there were others, the sloping hillside leading down to the water resembled a curled hand.

Low tide meant boats dotted the beach on one side of the harbor. When the tide came in they'd be in fifteen feet of water. During summer the water in the bay was the calmest, and at its lowest level, exposing the causeway that connected the town to the Sentinel during daylight hours.

"The Sentinel stands," Larken whispered, her eyes on the peak that gave the island it's name.

A quarter mile away, a high wall surrounded one side of the island, protecting the buildings from rough waters. The other side was sheer rock and jagged cliffs, which absorbed the brunt of the ocean's fury.

The causeway was full of people going to and from the island, on foot and by shuttle bus. The only vehicles on the island were owned and operated by the few residents who made the Sentinel their home. Further out in the ocean, obscured by monolithic rocks rising out of the churning water, was the Island of Frith. Larken's heart swelled and a smile spread across her face. Home was so close.

She joined her mother by the monument and read the dedication. "How did they know?" she asked.

"According to the Bells, they saw fissures, and none were on their land. They were a well-respected family, and thankfully most people listened." Her mother smiled at her surprise, and said, "I read about it on the ride here. So I don't suppose you have any interest in exploring Bellhaven?"