Wish by H.R. Davison (phonics books .TXT) 📕

Light falls through the entry way of the dark alcove. Stone walls drip moisture that pools into the corners, eroding the stone floor. A never ending plink-plink echoes through the room. The room reeks with the sour stench of putrid water.

Standing in the center of the room is a petite woman, her head bent to her chest, as if in prayer. Her clothes are in tatters and blood stains the torn fabric. Skin pale as the dawn, shines clean and undamaged in any way through the various rips and holes. No chains bind her in place, yet she stands immobile as the flickering light comes closer, illuminating the room.

Dress shoes click on the concrete floor as a man enters the alcove. Glimmering candle light bathes him in an eerie cast, turning a beautiful face into a goblin mask, blonde hair cascades down his back in silky waves. Blue eyes flash wickedly as he exposes a toothy grin at his captive. Moving the candle in a semi-circle in front of his body he glances around the room, seemingly satisfied with the surrounding, he smiles at the woman. “Takes you back don’t it?” He whispers.

She continues to face the floor. Her hair lay in tangles on either side of her head obscuring her face and the movement of her mouth as she speaks one word.“Armaros.” Anger, venom and malice seethes in her voice, the woman must truly despise this man.

The man continues, as if the woman had never spoken. “Modern technology has rendered the flame of a candle obsolete. I prefer the heat of a flame, the warm reminder of God’s love. Don’t you agree?” He says with a charming lilt to his voice, acting as though they were at an art gala not a dungeon.

He pauses for a beat, when the woman does not respond he goes on. “I presume we will feel the warmth of His love again, don’t you?”

Several minutes pass in silence as the woman stares at the floor unmoving. The man stares at the woman in anticipation of a response. “Let us begin.” He finally utters the contempt in his voice unmistakable.

Armaros stands still for a moment, his head cocked to one side. Without warning his voice flows like a raging river, anger boiling over. “I am ready to depart this forsaken place!” He howls, the echo of his last word repeating back through the stone room.

Standing immobile as a statue, laughter bubbles up to her lips.Unable to stifle it, she brays a gleeful wheeze into the dark room. “Armaros, you will never leave this world.”

Ignoring her, Armaros raises the candle high above his head casting the weak light on the ceiling above. With a wave of his hand all the tension in the woman’s body releases, she slumps to the floor in a heap, still laughing. “Tuautemcediderunt… tureliquisti…”She rattles on. A broad grin paints her face, distorting her beauty and exposing the delirious madness beneath the surface.

Armaros grabs her arm with a heavy grunt, pulling her from the room with a fluid motion. Her laughter trails behind him as she is pulled along. “Bezaliel.” He mutters under his breath, almost too softly to be heard over her frenzy. “I hope you retain your lucidity long enough to finish.”

Expecting my mother, I am surprised to see my father waiting in the living room. He is sitting on the tan sofa with his head in his hands. Walking with soft steps I approach him.Unable to see his face I notice his usually pristine hair is messy and dirty. His shoulders sag with weary weight.Sighing heavily he looks up at me. My dad’s normally bright eyes are dull, dark circles surround them like hollow caves. I feel terrible. I never wanted to disappoint my dad, the one parent that cares for me and shows me even an iota of love.

“DJ.” He says flatly. “I have been worried about you. I told your mother I would wait up for you. She knew you would be home tonight.”

So my parents already knew everything. They knew I had spent a torturous week in the pit and did nothing to get me out. Anger boils up inside me, with as much willpower as I can muster I press it down into my empty stomach. My muscles shake with rage. How could they leave their only son, their only child, on the brink of death? I expect such cruelty from my mother, but my dad? How could he? Why? I sit down on the sofa next to my dad, rubbing my temples to release the building tension growing behind my eyes. “Why didn’t you come for me, dad?” I ask, hating myself for whining. “Why?”

“Your mother, she wouldn’t allow it.” My dad answers, leaning back onto the couch next to me. He mimics my movement, rubbing his own temples.Like father like son. “I tried to talk her out of it, but she said you needed to learn a lesson. You know how your mother is.” He waves his hand in the air with a dismissive tone. “When her mind is set, there is no changing it.”

I groan, yes I know how my mother is. I expect to whipped and flayed for my transgression. My body is weary. I haven’t slept properly in a week. My stomach cries out with hunger pains. Knowing my dad wants to stay up and talk to me, I solve one of my problems with a snap of my fingers.

A humongous bacon cheeseburger and fries appear on a plate in my hand. Steam rises from the hot meal. The smell of the delicious food makes my mouth water in anticipation. Without delay I take a large bite of the burger.The flavor hits my taste buds, making me moan in pleasure. Oh food, I have missed you. I devour the burger and fries within minutes. My dad sits silent beside me, granting me the courtesy of eating without having to talk with my mouth full. It’s a good thing because there is no way I could have stopped eating once I started. My stomach rumbles in pleasure as I lick the grease from my fingertips.

Once I am done eating I wipe my mouth clean with the bottom of my shirt. My need to see Kat complete and my hunger finally sated I turn to my dad, ready to accept the punishment my mother is making him dole out. “Well… what’s it going to be?” I ask.

“Nothing.” My dad replies, running his hands across his face, rough callous scraping the stubble on his chin. “Your mother, she thinks a week in the pit was a suitable punishment.”

I stare at my dad open mouthed. That does not sound like my mother at all. I leave without permission, go to Munkarit unsupervised, disappear for a week, and my mother is okay with it? There has to be more he isn’t telling me. “What? She is planning something else isn’t she? What do you know dad?” I ask, narrowing my eyes in suspicion.

“DJ let me tell you a story.” My dad begins. He walks to the bar in the corner of the room and pours himself a drink. Sipping his scotch he makes his way back to the couch. With a drink in hand he starts his story. “When I was your age I fell in love, she was beautiful, and smart, and meant everything to me. But… she was also human.” He pauses to let this part sink in. “You know that our bloodlines are diminishing because Djinn are breeding with humans, and the magic is weakening. My parents would not allow me to be with her. Instead they arranged a marriage with your mother. When I learned of their plan I was devastated.”

My dad stops talking for a moment, his scotch empty. He returns to the bar to refill his glass. It is hard for me to imagine my dad young and in love. My whole life he has cowered to my mother’s will, there has never been any love between them. She is a mastermind at manipulation, and I always knew my dad to be weak willed and spineless, never having the courage to stand up to her, even on my behalf. My dad rejoins me on the couch with the whole bottle of scotch. This is going to be a long story.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this DJ, and it stays between us, got it?” He asks me pointedly, raising his eyebrow in my direction. I nod, accepting his terms. This will stay between us.

“Before the marriage contract could be signed, I made the decision to run off with Margaret. I had packed my bags, had everything ready to go. I was going to meet her at the stables at the back of our house.” My dad paused in his recollection, his head tilted to one side, a ghost of a smile on his lips as if he is remembering that night so long ago. With a shake of his head he starts talking again. “She was stunning, I was my happiest when I was with Margaret, and she brought out the best in me. But your mother...”

My dad pours another drink. He is really knocking them down and his speech is starting to slur. “Claire, your mother, was waiting for me at the stables. I had never met her before that night, she has always been a beautiful woman, but when she was younger, DJ men would have killed to be with her. Any man except me, the one man she was destined to spend her lifetime with. We talked for a long time that night. She told me that she knew I would never love her. And she offered me a deal, Margaret’s life in exchange for being an obedient husband.” He removes the cuff links from his shirt, dropping them on the table with a clink. He rolls the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbows.

I am overwhelmed at my dad’s admission. Everything makes sense now. My dad’s actions, his reasons behind bowing to my mother’s will. He isn’t weak willed. He is in love and pain. He has been doing the only thing he can to protect the one he loves. He let her go. He let go of his own happiness.

My dad wipes tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. Sweat beads on his forehead. “DJ, you know your mother. You know what she is capable of. Even back then, her reputation preceded her. I had no choice. I had to take her deal. I never saw Margaret again. I don’t know what happened to her.” Tears run freely down his face as he talks. His words run together in a drunken blur. “Your mother is powerful. She made me sign a contract, in blood, that