Woman King Page 6

  “She disappeared,” I said, distracted by the buzzing in my ears.

  Lily nodded. “Yes. But she will come back.”

  Very quickly, we found ourselves back in the land of glowing flowers, strolling through an open meadow, dotted with pink and purple foxglove. We crossed a road, climbed a dirt path and after a few minutes of walking, came to stand before Stow Lake, a man-made lake established in Golden Gate Park in the 1800’s. Half-dressed and disheveled, I paused on the sidewalk, transfixed by a small island a few hundreds yards inside the enormous lake from where I stood. The island, shrouded in mist and almost completely covered by a fallen tree and overgrown flowering vines, seemed to be calling to my overheated body.

  It didn’t take much for me to oblige.

  “Hot!” I cried out, and waded into the lake.

  “Olivia, noooo!” came Lily’s frantic cry, as she jumped in after me.

  We swam to the island, but never made it out of the water thanks to a ring of thorny blackberry bushes lining the shore. Rebuffed, we made our way back onto dry land. Standing on the sidewalk and dripping wet, Lily removed a small towel from her pack and handed it to me.

  “It’s not much, but it will help dry you a bit,” she said, rubbing the water off of her arms and legs as she spoke.

  I sat down on a nearby bench and began to listen to the world around me. A cacophony of sounds rang in my ears. I could hear the fish swimming below the surface of the water. I detected the faint sound of owls in the trees rustling their wings. Smiling, I took Lily’s hand in my own.

  “This place is alive,” I said with conviction.

  Lily smiled and squeezed my hand back. “See what you have been missing,” she said gently. “Now, you are really alive, too.”

  ****

  CHAPTER 10

  My first sensation was of something cold and hard pressing into my lower back. Then the smell of damp, rotting plants filled my nostrils. I remained motionless, trying to recall what had happened. Where was I? Then I remembered my adventure in the park and the tea Elsa had given me that caused me to hallucinate.

  I lay still, testing my body. From one limb to the next I wiggled, waiting for injuries and pain. I moved my head from side to side and slowly opened my eyes. As soon as I focused I recoiled, for there, not an inch from my face, was an egret. The small, white bird was studying me. I smiled at him. “Either you are in the wrong place, or I am sleeping in your bed,” I said quietly to the bird.

  The egret opened up his wings and flew away as I sat up to survey my surroundings. I was sleeping on a small patch of dirt inside a lily pond near the side entrance of the de Young Museum. Why here, of all places, I wondered, and then I recalled hearing a man’s voice at the end of the evening. The voice was insistent, urging me to leave my old life behind to join him. I had followed the voice, getting as far as the museum, but could not find its source.

  At some point I must have lost Lily and come back here to fall asleep, choosing to slumber beside a statute of Pan with his lute. Now, as the light of day pressed against my sensitive eyes, the nature of my situation dawned on me. I was a half-dressed woman trespassing on city property, and I needed to get up and leave before someone saw me. The good news is that given the kinds of characters that inhabit San Francisco, I wasn’t too worried about looking odd as I strolled back to my house. I was certain my unkempt nature wouldn’t raise so much as an eyebrow.

  I wondered what had happened to Elsa. I concentrated for a moment and then, one by one, the images of the night returned. I recalled with clarity that Elsa had disappeared into the fountain. I remembered the bright light and her attempt to shield me from it.

  My running shoes were sitting next to me and I reached over to slide them on to my filthy, bare feet. As soon as I climbed out of the pond and hopped onto the sidewalk, I spotted Elsa sitting on a bench nearby. Her eyes shut, and she appeared to be dozing lightly. I walked toward her, intending to gently tap her on the shoulder, but as I approached she opened her eyes with a start.

  “Olivia,” she said, smiling, “you’ve returned to this world. How do you feel?”

  “I feel great,” I said. “My back is a little sore from sleeping on a rock, but other than that, I feel fine.” As I stood looking at Elsa, I began to see some of the same colors I had from the night before. Elsa was gently giving off waves of yellow and orange as she stood before me.

  “You’re giving off colors again,” I said.

  As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt a rush of warmth invade my body. It was the feeling of pleasure, but the feeling was not my own. It belonged to Elsa. “I can feel your pleasure, too,” I said, shaking my head. “Is that what you hoped would happen?” Again, a rush of warmth ran through me. “You’re pleased. I can tell.”

  “I am pleased,” she responded, rising from the bench to stretch. “How much more you can do with your gift remains to be seen. We’re going to work on it a bit, and then I am going to introduce you to a group of people who are very interested in meeting you. They’d like you to come and work for them.”

  We walked back to the house in silence, my mind too preoccupied with the show unfurling before me. As I walked past people on the street I could clearly see the outline of their auras and feel their emotions. Unfiltered, it was disorienting, and by the time we got to the front door, my stomach was churning with all of the morning angst I’d picked up as my neighbors headed off to work. I placed my hand against the door jam and closed my eyes for a moment, remembering Elsa’s advice from the night before. After a few moments of deep breathing, I regained control of my senses. I nearly had been overwhelmed by other people’s emotions, but with some measure of confidence, I realized that I could calm my mind when necessary.

  I was about to reach for my hide-a-key, when the front door flew open. Lily was standing in the doorway half awake, wearing one of my bathrobes. Evidently, she’d had the good sense to come home and sleep in a bed.

  I watched velvety green light coming off of my best friend and felt her happiness at my safe return deep inside my heart. It was lovely to feel that kind of friendship from another being.

  “Thank you,” I said. “I am very glad to see you too. What an adventure we had last night. Did you know that your light is as green as that island we swam to?”

  Lily giggled. “It worked. You can see my aura. I am green and sometimes a little blue comes through. Most fairies are. If you ever see a red color coming off a fairy, you should run and get away as fast as you can. It means something horrible is about to happen.”

  I nodded, distracted by my stomach, which began to grumble.

  “I’m starving. Let’s have some food and we can talk some more.”

  “I can’t stay,” Lily said. “I have to go to work. You know the library is open seven days a week.”

  “Suit yourself,” I said. “I am making pancakes.”

  After I had eaten and taken a shower, I came downstairs to find Elsa sitting on the floor in the living room, meditating. Legs folded, eyes closed, she was chanting softly. I could see very strong orange and yellow pulses coming from her body as she took in breaths of air. I wondered what colors my body gave off, but when I tried to look after my shower, nothing appeared in the mirror.

  “Yellow, orange and a twinge of red,” Elsa said. “I can hear your thoughts now, Olivia. Your mind is very powerful. We need to be careful so that you don’t telegraph what you are thinking to those who would use the information against you.”

  I flopped down in a chair and sighed. “You can hear my thoughts. I can feel your emotions. How is this supposed to be better for me? I feel more vulnerable than ever.”

  “You are more vulnerable… for the moment,” Elsa said. “It will pass and you will come to learn how powerful a woman is when she uses her sixth sense.”

  I sat for a moment contemplating my future. It certainly couldn’t get any worse, I reasoned. I now had the power to read people and know their emotions. If I could figure our how to prote
ct myself, maybe I could get back to work and retrieve my clients from Stoner Halbert.

  “What about the demon?” I asked. “Will it go away now?”

  “Soon you will be able to keep him out of your head and then he will have to move on to someone more vulnerable.”

  Thinking about being vulnerable reminded me of the horrible light and pain from the night before. “What was that light last night? Why did it hurt my head?”

  Elsa paused a long while and then said, “It was someone trying to read your thoughts.” That didn’t sound good at all. “Read my thoughts. Why? Who was it?”

  Elsa frowned. “He’s the head of an organization that’s very interested in humans who have extra skills like yours.”

  “Really, how odd,” I said. “He sounds like a freak. How does he know about me?”

  Again, Elsa didn’t answer immediately.

  “I am a member of the Council, it was my responsibility to tell them that I was leaving my post temporarily to help a human,” she explained. “When I told the director about your gifts, he became very interested.”

  “The Council,” I said aloud. “It sounds like a John Grisham novel.”

  “I don’t know who John Grisham is,” Elsa said, her stern voice returning. “But I assure you, the Council is very real. Gabriel Laurent is the current director. He’s the one who tried to contact you last night.”

  “Does he always try to blind people to say hello?”

  “I told him it was too early to try such a thing,” she acknowledged. “I asked him to wait a few days and promised that I would bring you to meet him.”

  “Is that where you went, when you left? To see him?” I asked. “You touched the fountain and disappeared.”

  Elsa nodded. “I used the portal to jump to the top of the museum, where the Council keeps its headquarters.”

  “How did you do that? I mean how do you make sure you get where you want to go?”

  “I use my mind. It will guide me to where I want to go.”

  “And what does Monsieur Laurent want with me?”

  “It’s nothing, really; he wants to speak to you about a job.”

  I knew right away that Elsa was lying.

  ****

  CHAPTER 11

  From the moment she began speaking, I knew that Elsa was holding something back. I could feel her hesitation. By now, I also knew her well enough to know I should back off and wait to ask her again later. So I let the matter pass, and dressed and readied myself for my first day of learning how to use my reclaimed skills.

  We were headed to the Mission District. Elsa insisted we use the subway to travel downtown. Riding the public trains, she said, would be a good place to practice. As soon as we got on the N-Judah streetcar, Elsa leaned in and whispered my assignment.

  “Focus on one person, and try to block out the rest. Find one person and tell me what you see and feel.”

  I scanned the train looking for my target. A few seats away, I locked on to a well-dressed woman who looked to be about 25. She was tall with long blond hair, held in place by a tortoise shell headband. Her hair, which had been brushed until it shined, cascaded down her back. She looked successful and content—an easy first assignment, I told myself.

  When I examined her more closely, though, I began to see a different story. She was encased in a solid red line of fear. She was worried. I could feel it. Her heart also held another emotion: longing. I sat down on a nearby train seat and watched her.

  “She’s worried,” I said to Elsa under my breath. “She’s trying to reassure herself about something, maybe not reassure, but I think I can feel her trying to soothe herself.”

  Elsa pulled me up and walked us to the second car of the train. “Try again.”

  I was feeling more confident, so I decided to try something more challenging. This time I locked on to a slightly disheveled homeless man, his belongings piled high on the seat next to him. I focused in on his coloring and saw something odd. He gave off a grayish color that looked like smog hovering over the hills. As soon as I tried to read his emotions, he turned around to face me. He knew I was trying to read him. Although he smiled at me, his behavior was anything but friendly. He began to press back, sending some very dark emotions my way. I felt a rush of sadness, and realized that he was trying to drive me to despair. He was persistent, trying to drive negative feelings into my head. Elsa appeared at my side.

  “That’s a demon, Olivia. Can you feel him trying to drive a wedge through your soul? Block him out.”

  Once again, I practiced using my breath to lower a blind over my mind’s eye and closed off my nervous system. Soon, I began to feel like myself again. The demon turned away from us and looked out the window.

  “He gave up very easily,” I said.

  “He probably knew he had no chance with you,” was Elsa’s reply. “Demons, in general, are a lazy lot and do not like to work hard. I think he knew better than to test your will.”

  “Are they always grey?” I asked as we made our way out of the train station.

  “Always. You must have a soul, or some connection to humanity, to give off an aura. Remember that. Grey is the absence of color. As servants of the devil, they have no humanity left inside them, and therefore give off no color.”

  “Wow. That is scary. What would have happened if he’d succeeded?”

  “You would have left the train feeling like your life was not worth living,” Elsa said ruefully. “Demons are responsible for a lot of the suicides you read about that happen in public—the stories about people who jump into the path of a moving train, or leap from the Golden Gate Bridge. Their deaths are often incomprehensible to the people who know them. Now you know the reason for their actions.”

  I shuddered slightly as we rode the escalator up from the bowels of the subterranean train station, trying to shake off the gloom of the demon and Elsa’s story. Would that have been my fate, too, had Elsa not appeared? Would I have been doomed to toss myself over a bridge when Stoner was done with me? I didn’t want to know.

  We exited the station at 16th and Mission. From there, we moved west, walking through the crowds on Valencia Street. There were dozens upon dozens of bodies moving through the neighborhood. I held still, allowing myself to feel the energy of the people passing by.

  “Don’t lock on to it or try to absorb it, let it move past you as if you were browsing titles in a book store,” Elsa said.

  If I had been in a bookstore, the floor would have been a mess. It felt as if I was bumping into everyone who passed. A jolt here, a jolt there, I was being brushed by anger, anxiety, sexual longing, happiness and true love. Each time someone passed, they tickled my senses. I began to regulate it, as if searching a radio by turning a dial. I concentrated, focusing my mind to pull in from one person but not the next. A rainbow of colors passed behind my eyes, and I was enjoying my newfound skills until something began pressing on my skull again.

  I looked up, trying to find the source of the pain and found myself staring into the dark green eyes of a man with long hair and a nose ring, whose piercing gaze seemed to be picking at my head. It was a very specific kind of pressure, but it came with not a trace of emotion.

  “Elsa that man over there is trying to force his way into my head.”

  “Vampire,” was all she said.

  “Vampire,” I replied. “In the Mission?”

  “Especially in the Mission,” she said.

  “He is picking at my skull like a woodpecker.”

  “Make him stop.”

  I closed my eyes and forcefully shut him out. He smiled, saluting me with two fingers as he passed.

  “He doesn’t give off any emotion,” I said as he passed. “Only that pecking sensation.”

  Elsa laughed. “Vampires don’t feel emotions the way humans do. It has something to do with the absence of a beating heart. If you ever get to know a vampire well, you will learn to read their feelings more closely.”

  “Wow, a vampire and
a demon, all in the last hour in San Francisco,” I said, shaking my head. “I never imagined it was possible.”

  “And now?” Elsa asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said honestly. “But I do know that everything I thought I knew has changed.”

  “That is a good beginning,” Elsa said, putting her hand on my arm. “Let’s go find a place to meet Lily for dinner.”

  We settled on Bar Tartine, a quaint bistro on Valencia Street. Lily arrived at about 5:30 looking exhausted. Seeing her made me realize how tired I was, too.

  “I don’t think this will be a late evening,” I said. “We both look like we could use a good night’s sleep.”

  A waiter took our order for three glasses of wine, and a sampling of house-made meats and cheeses. I added on a bowl of warm olives, and Lily asked for some bread. Once our drinks and small plates arrived, I quizzed my magical friends on what really was going on around me.

  “You’re very lucky to live in San Francisco,” Lily said, licking a drop of olive oil off her fingertip. “This city is the most magical of any in the world.”

  “You don’t mean picturesque, do you?”

  Lily smiled. “Nope. I mean magical, with a capital M. After a while you will feel it. The land itself is part of it. Very early civilizations knew it, too, the Ohlone Indians, for example.”

  Lily’s comments reminded me of something from my adventure the night before.

  “I think I saw them,” I burst out, interrupting Lily’s sentence. “I saw them at Ocean Beach last night. I ran there after leaving the park. There were hundreds of people chanting, and I saw a woman—their shaman. I thought I was hallucinating.”

  Both women exchanged glances. “You were having a vision, but it’s extraordinary that you saw the Ohlone,” Elsa said. “Your abilities are very strong, Olivia. You picked up on a very old memory embedded in the land.”

  “You were amazing last evening, but I did have a brief scare,” Lily said, joining the conversation. “After Elsa left and you began to run towards the lake, I thought at one point that I’d lost you. You seemed to disappear from my line of sight, but then I found you again at the foot of the water. I think my eyes must have been playing tricks on me.”