THE FIRST AND FINAL TRUTH_ Chapter Eight_ THE GIRL WITH SILVER EYES

 

"The wind that sweeps the sun and the other stars across the void swirls within you, my son. Harness it, or it will consume you."

- Amaia, Lucas' mother

"Turning the corner."

Something the mind of a terrified child would conjure to make an incomprehensible nightmare manageable.

Not that it worked.

But the "first and final truth" Lucas' mother had taught him was that sometimes no matter the odds, you just had to try.

If you failed, at least you died with your head held high ... and when you were Basque, sometimes pride was all you had.

Clutched in his right arm, Moira was moaning, her writhing lips wet with drool, her wide eyes no longer comprehending what they saw.

Mother had taken it better ... but then, she was ... Mother.

Still, Lucas had killed her taking her here.

No.

He refused to own that thought.

Sheriff Danvers had mortally wounded her. Lucas simply refused to let Mother die caged. 

She would die free ... or as free as he could arrange.

He aimed his will for the den he shared with his pack of wild wolves.

Mother had been too injured to survive this wild transition.

Mother had simply evaporated in his arms like mist from the hidden surface of a winter lake.

Moira was only the second person he had taken with him here. 

She was still solid.

Perhaps you had to be sane to be translated.

He had, of course, went back for Sheriff Danvers.

Not to be brought here. 

Lucas would not foul the last place Mother breathed with that corrupt soul.

By accident, Lucas had once ended up in Hell ... or a realm close enough to be its suburbs.

He brought Danvers there. 

Lucas let him stay long enough that the sheriff was more than happy to hang himself.

Moira was turning opaque. Not that Lucas could blame her.

Gravity was just a taunting memory, reality was only nightmare, the only sound the howling of the blood hammering within their eardrums.

This wouldn't do.

Lucas had a debt to pay Brigadier General Donovan and Moira ... and Mother had taught him to always pay his debts.

Lucas smiled grimly ... it had always worked out so well in the past, hadn't it? 

But there was always a first time.