Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

other parts of the world.” Jubal hesitated.
     “Do you believe in the existence of evil?”
    “You mean like Satan, the devil?”
    “Sort of, but I’m not talking about God and the angels.”
    Riley forced down her first reaction. Strange things happened in the Amazon. And her
     mother certainly had gifts that couldn’t be explained. There was the trip to the Andes
     every five years and the ritual performed on the mountain. There were also rumors,
     the legends and myths handed down of a great evil having destroyed the Cloud People
     and then the Incas. Of course, no one believed it, but what if it was the truth?
    “Yes,” she admitted, “I believe in evil.”
    Jubal hesitated again. “I—we—suspect that something ancient is out here, an evil being
     that has the power to command the insects and to prey on our minds, to trick us into
     believing things that aren’t true.”
    Riley instantly recalled her mother’s agitated rambling about the evil trapped in
     the mountain. The two of them were traveling to the mountain to reseal it, to keep
     the volcano from exploding, and Annabel was worried about being late. Riley knew generations
     of women had come to this mountain, and the trip had been even more rigorous and dangerous
     in the past, yet they’d continued to travel to that same spot and perform the same
     ritual.
    So could it possibly be true? Was there really something evil trapped in that mountain?
     Something the women of her family had been keeping contained for hundreds—possibly
     even thousands—of years? Riley shivered, pressing a hand to her knotted stomach.
    “Why would this evil thing target my mother?”
    “Clearly it considers your mother a threat to it in some way,” Gary said.
    “Something is happening. The evil in the mountain is deliberately trying to slow me
     down. It is close to the surface and is orchestrating accidents and illness.” Riley shivered, remembering her mother’s fearful warnings. She’d brushed them off
     as shock-induced ramblings, but now Riley wasn’t so sure. Could it possibly be true?
    Jubal shifted closer to her mother’s hammock. Riley nearly leapt at him, but his body
     language exuded protection. He faced the forest, his body alert. She became aware
     of the silence then. The constant, never-ending drone of the insects had disappeared,
     leaving behind an eerie silence.
    Instinctively Riley stepped close to her mother. Annabel writhed. Moaned. Sweat beaded
     on her body. Her hands rose and she began a complicated pattern of movement, a mesmerizing
     twisting of her fingers and hands, a conductor of a symphony, yet each flowing motion
     was precise and beautiful. Riley had seen those movements several times. Her own hands
     automatically followed the pattern, as if the memory was pressed into her bones rather
     than her mind. She made the effort to keep her arms down, but she couldn’t stop her
     fingers and wrists from twisting with her mother’s, or the flutter of graceful motion.
    Her mother’s body turned toward the east and Riley found herself facing the same direction.
     She could feel the flow of earth rising from beneath the soles of her feet, moving
     through her like the sap through the trees. A heart hammered, deep beneath the soil.
     She could feel her pulse syncing to that steady drumming beat. She felt grounded,
     roots spreading beneath her to find that beckoning life force deep in the earth.
    She felt the individual plants, each of them with their own character and personality.
     Some poison, some antidotes. She recognized them as sisters and brothers. She felt
     them take root inside of her, spreading through her veins, into her internal organs,
     and wrapping around her very bones until her veins sang with the lifeblood of the
     rain forest.
    Awareness of every living tree, shrub and plant nearby rose until it was absolutely
     acute. Heart and soul reached out to them and they reached back, feeding her courage
     and resilience, the earth her mother, willing to aid her at any turn. She felt a stain
     of evil spreading through the ground itself, seeking a target. But something else
     was there as well—something strong and brave. Predatory. Protective. Hers. Abruptly she pulled herself back.
    Apparently, Jubal and Gary weren’t far off with their assessment of the situation
     after all. This was no mass hallucination, but a carefully orchestrated plot to attack
     her mother, to delay her trip to the mountain and prevent