The Lotus Flower Champion, page 27
How do I fight back against so much certainty? How do I ignore what seems to be my gut? How do I trust myself…when that’s the very last person that I should trust? I weep. At the unfairness of it all. At the maddening nature of my disorder. At the strangeness of my mind, which gives me the strength to walk on hot lava…but not to take off my shoes.
I don’t trust myself. I don’t trust Bodin, who’s lied to me for the bulk of our relationship. I can’t trust Papa, who’s losing more and more memories with each passing day. Each passing hour.
So who do I trust?
The answer—although hard to remember, easy to forget—has always been clear.
Mama. Oh, not the fallible human being who walks on this Earth, but the person she is in connection to me.
I imagine her soft skin, her guileless smile, her clear eyes. She’s not perfect. She doesn’t belong on any pedestal. She loses her temper; she gets frustrated. She’s super cranky when she’s hungry. Sometimes, she says things that she doesn’t mean. Sometimes, the things that she says are mean.
But there’s one truth in this universe that I will never, ever question. She loves me, to the depth and breadth and height her soul can reach.
Maybe playing my game isn’t about acting independently. Maybe it’s not about following a trusted person’s advice. Maybe, just maybe, playing my own game is a combination of the two: following the advice that I imagine someone I trust would give.
What do I do, Mama? What would you say I should do?
I take a deep breath, channeling Mama. And then, my fingers are attacking my laces. My breath speeds up as though I’m running a marathon. The voice tries to intrude, but I push back against it. I fight.
I kick off my shoes, and I jump from foot to foot. Even the brief contact my bare skin has with the ground floods my mind with images. The germs crawling up my feet, coating my feet like slime, sinking into whatever crack they can find.
I don’t need to eliminate the feeling of distress entirely. I only need to accept my distress—and tolerate it.
I take my first bare step onto the lava. The hot liquid rushes under my soles, tickling but not injuring them. Something soft and silky sprouts under my foot. I peek down: a lotus flower. Delicate, pale pink petals that come together to make a powerful splash.
I take another step. Another flower, even more delicate and more powerful than the last.
The distress fades. So do my fears. Instead, effervescent joy fizzes out of me. It worked. The words that an imaginary Mama whispered to me worked. I’m not walking barefoot over the hot lava. I’m wearing shoes of lotus flowers.
It takes eleven steps in all for me to cross the lava. My magic number. But because I can, I take one more minuscule step, leading to one more minuscule flower, making the number twelve.
For better or for worse, my OCD is a part of me. It’s never going away. But more and more, I hope I will continue to play my own game.
I touch down on the other side and raise my arms in triumph. Before I can truly celebrate, however, I hear a slow…and very deliberate…clap.
Xander.
I turn, and all of the peace drains out of my body when I see him standing next to Bodin.
Chapter Forty-Two
I can’t breathe. It’s like my lungs have collapsed and my three-dimensional heart is trying to beat in a flattened world. This…this can’t be happening. Bodin couldn’t have betrayed me…twice.
But the truth is standing right in front of me. There he is, cowering by his father’s side. Not my friend but my enemy. Lying in wait for me in a trap that he carefully set up, his eyes trained on his shoes.
Glad he’s protecting his feet, because mine are naked and vulnerable and planted squarely on the dirty ground.
It hurts even more that he turned on me while I’m not wearing shoes.
Xander’s grin takes over his entire face. “Surprised to see me, my Lotus Flower Champion?”
Understatement of the century. How I’m still standing is anybody’s guess.
“Thank you, by the way, for crossing the lava on your own initiative,” he continues. “Somehow, I thought it would be more difficult than this. Hell, I thought we’d have to drag you, kicking and screaming, over the lava. But here you are, leaving a trail of lotus flowers in your wake.”
He gestures at the hot lava, and I turn to see the flowers, as fresh as ever, floating on top of the hot, bubbling liquid.
“Amazing how the flower retains its structural integrity.” Xander snaps his fingers and points at the lava. Obediently, Bodin walks to the lava’s edge, drops to his knees, and leans over to fish out a flower.
I should push him right into that molten orange ooze. It would serve him right. But his reflexes are quick, while my knees are still magma. I’d be more likely than him to end up in the moving lake.
Bodin snatches up a flower, bouncing it from hand to hand, as though the traces of lava burn him. Good, I think meanly.
Soon enough, though, he passes the flower to Xander, who examines it with the scrutiny of a scientist, with the eyes of an awestruck child.
“Just amazing,” he says, his tone hushed. “I’ve seen many wondrous things during my decade on this island. But this…this tops them all.” He looks at me. “So, I thank you, Alaia. Your friends, I’m sure, thank you as well. You’ve saved me the trouble of torturing them.”
“Torture?” I echo weakly.
“Why, yes.” He smirks as though I’ve said something highly amusing. “How else did you think I was going to get you to cross? I would’ve started by dipping Lola’s darling toes into the lake.” In one swift movement, he crushes up the flower and tosses it back into the lava. “What a nice spectacle that would’ve been. Worms would’ve dropped from her mouth as she screamed out her curses. I can just see those segmented creatures frying to a crisp as they drop into the lava. After that? So many wonderful options to choose from.”
He taps a finger against his cheek. “It would’ve been fun to rotate Mateo on a spit over a molten fire. Roasted crocodile is quite tasty, you know. Or I could’ve stuck a burning ember into Preston’s pinhole mouth.” He slaps his leg in hilarity. “Can you imagine the look on his face as he tries to spit out the ember—and can’t?”
Xander sighs. “Ah, it would’ve been a good show. The memories of those tortures could’ve entertained us for months. But I suppose it would’ve been a lot of work. And I’m just like you. I hate to get my hands dirty.”
He holds up his hand and wiggles his fingers. And Bodin—he just stands there, not doing anything. He doesn’t even flinch at his father’s tasteless joke at the expense of my OCD.
“You coward,” I spit out at Bodin. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Apologize? Offer one single sliver of remorse? You lied to me—again. It was my fault, I suppose, for trusting you. I let my sympathies get the better of me. But I was wrong. I thought you were a victim, too. What I didn’t realize was that you allow yourself to be a victim. You participate in your own torture.” I shake my head, disgusted. “My mistake.” I put as much derision into those two words as possible.
Bodin doesn’t respond. How could he? There’s not a single thing that he could say or do that can justify his actions.
“Now, now,” Xander says mildly, as though he’s refereeing a disagreement between two children. “Leave the poor boy alone. For once in his life, he stepped up. He took the initiative, made a plan, and executed it. He may grow up to be a worthy man yet.”
At this, Bodin hangs his head. Any lower and he’d be kissing the ground.
“Is this what this was about?” I continue to direct my words at Bodin. “Earning the approval of your dear old dad? Well, congrats,” I say tightly. “You got it. Was it worth it?”
Bodin doesn’t even bother to shrug. I need to rein in my anger. He’s an easy target to direct my frustration at…but he’s not the true enemy. He’s not the one who holds my—and my parents’ and my friends’—future in his hands.
“What are you going to do with me?” I ask Xander.
He blinks. “I thought that was clear. You are my Lotus Flower Champion. You are going to perform what the human mind believed to be impossible and bring my dead son back to life.”
“And what if I can’t?” I never truly believed Xander’s wild theories. But I also never thought I’d walk across hot lava, either. “So what if lotus flowers sprout under my feet? So what if darts break in midair? What does any of that have to do with reversing death?”
“Ah, I’m glad you asked,” Xander replies, his eyes bright. “I’ve spent most of my life studying this discipline, and my audience is woefully few. My son, who’d rather be plotting a way off this island.” He side-eyes Bodin, who’s studying the lava as though he expects a naga to leap out of it. “And a pit of reptiles who lose more of their human minds with each transformation.”
He turns back to me. “My new theory is that the Lotus Flower Champion doesn’t possess a bunch of disjointed abilities, each one separate from the last. Rather, the champion has one ability with different manifestations: the ability to bend the natural and unnatural world to keep themselves safe. That’s why your energy was revived when your stores ran low. That’s how you were able to navigate through the treacherous dark. These so-called abilities are simply ways that you protect yourself.”
I shake my head, trying to wrap my mind around his words. “So what you’re saying is…my ability is that I can make myself immune to danger?”
“Something like that.”
I massage my temples. “That’s wild.”
“It’s more than just wild,” Xander says. “It’s damn near miraculous. You have so much life force in you, so much will to survive. It’s so strong that when you choose to share it, this life force will bring back the dead.”
“But how?” I’m nearly pleading now. Xander has so much belief in this power. But I don’t even understand it, much less know how to wield it.
“How?” Xander blinks at me as though the answer is obvious. “Why, any way you choose. The folktales can serve as a guide. They detail several methods of reversing death. It can be as simple as chewing on an herb and blowing it on a person you want to revive.
“Or, you might want to use a sacred object, such as a fan. Fluttered in one direction, the fan can kill; wave it in the other direction, and the fan will resurrect the dead.
“There are other, more complicated procedures. For example, one story tells of a boy whose heart is put inside a double-edged sword. When the sword is burned, the person to whom the heart belongs dies. And if you want to bring the boy back to life? You simply clean the sword once more.”
Xander spreads his arms wide. “Take your pick, champion. You may use whichever method appeals to you.” He jostles Bodin, catching him off guard and almost knocking him over. “Bodin here favors the double-edged sword, don’t you, boy? He thinks it appeared in the sand on a moonlit night for a reason. As for me? I’m not choosy, so long as you bring my son back to life.”
“How very kind of you,” I say drily. “And how very generous of Bodin to share his infinite wisdom.”
The sarcasm is lost on Xander, however. He’s already backing away from me, from Bodin, exiting the warm glow emitting from the red-hot lava and ducking into the night. No doubt he will reenter his compound through the back entrance and resume running his evil empire.
“Bodin!” Xander’s disembodied voice calls out, after his physical presence has blended with the shadows. “Please escort our champion to her cell. She needs to rest. Tomorrow is a big day. For me, for this island. For us all.”
Chapter Forty-Three
I look at Bodin. He looks at me.
My mind whirls. It’s just the two of us now. He outweighs me by a good fifty pounds. He has multiple inches on me, not to mention superior strength. Ordinarily, I’d never dream of taking him on. It’s just not a fight I can win.
But now…I have the ability to bend the world to my will in order to protect myself from danger. That changes the equation. It evens up our skills. It might even tip the scales in my favor.
I crouch into a fighting position, my muscles bunching as I prepare to charge.
“Don’t do anything foolish, Alaia,” Bodin says, the first time that he’s spoken tonight. “Let me explain—”
Too late. I rush at him at full speed, trusting that my abilities will kick in. I will the cave to rise up and slap rocky handcuffs on him. I summon the double-edged sword to fly into my hands from…wherever it is.
I crash into Bodin, and we both fall to the ground, our heads inches from the molten liquid. I hear it sizzle—and then the smell of burned hair fills the air. So much for my immunity.
Before I can check on my singed locks, however, Bodin flips me over so that he’s trapping me against the hard rock.
“You—you shouldn’t be able to do that,” I stutter. “I’m supposed to be immune from danger.”
He shifts onto his elbows so that he can hold his body weight off me. “That’s because you aren’t in any danger from me. Your ability knows that, even if your mind doesn’t. Will you please listen?”
“I don’t have much choice, do I?” I slide out from underneath him and retreat several feet away.
“I’m not escorting you to any cell,” Bodin says, rolling to a sitting position. “I’m not going to lock you up. I didn’t betray you, Alaia. I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
“Same thing,” I mutter. I keep my eyes trained on his collarbone, the muscular curve of his shoulders, so that I can avoid looking at his face.
“No, it’s not the same thing. At least I don’t think so. Xander’s got me so messed up that it’s hard to figure out right from wrong.” He hangs his head, which brings his forehead closer to my lips. “We needed to know if you were the Lotus Flower Champion. But I didn’t want you to cross the lava Xander’s way. You heard what he said. He was planning on this big torture show to persuade you across. He didn’t mention your parents, but I know for a fact that he was keeping them in reserve. I wouldn’t be surprised if he took them into custody as soon as you left camp. If all else failed, their torture would’ve broken you.”
I blink. “My parents?”
“Yes. Xander gave you a glimpse of joy, just so he could rip it away. He granted you time with your parents so that it would hurt even more when you lost them for good.”
So we were right. That was the true reason behind his “kindness.”
I glance up at Bodin. My mistake. Because his eyes capture mine, and I’m unable to wrench my gaze away from his.
“I know you,” he says softly. “I know you would walk over hot lava to save your parents. But I also know how much it would hurt you to see them suffer. I didn’t want to put you through that, but at the same time, we had to know if you truly are the Lotus Flower Champion. Our next moves depend on it. I…compromised. I’m sorry that I tricked you. But it was the only way I knew how to get you across the lava while keeping your parents safe. If you knew it was one of Xander’s challenges, I don’t think you would’ve crossed of your own volition. Am I right?”
Yeah. I have such an aversion to playing Xander’s game, to being under his control, that I probably would have flat-out refused. My OCD would never have allowed it…until I witnessed the torture of my friends, my parents. And Bodin’s right again. That would’ve broken me. Bodin’s way is gentler, kinder—even if it is deceitful. The story is a good one, the explanation solid…but only if it’s true.
“Why should I believe you?” I ask. “Give me one good reason why I should trust anything that you say.”
“I’ll give you two.” He stands, holding out his palms. “I am no threat to you. Your ability knows this. But I want your mind and your heart to know it as well. Check out that corner.” He gestures to indicate the one he means, next to the yawning black space where Xander disappeared.
I catch a glimpse of something shiny and metal. A warm glow outside of the cave glints off the blade, and all of a sudden, I know what I’m looking at: the double-edged sword.
“I stand before you, vulnerable,” Bodin continues. “You held a blade to my neck before. Do it again. I won’t stop you.”
I walk to the sword. True to his word, Bodin doesn’t react as I arm myself. He simply stands there, motionless. Watching me.
I stride over to him and hold the sword at his throat. “Let me get this straight.” I press the blade against his Adam’s apple. “I can do anything I want—even kill you—and you won’t try to stop me?”
“No. I won’t lift a finger.” He looks directly into my eyes, trusting, calm. I can feel the peace in the slow, steady beating of his pulse. In contrast, my heart beats erratically. I don’t know how this scenario will end…even as I settle on a course of action.
“Why?” I ask.
“I like you. I trust you,” Bodin says immediately, as though he’s been giving the matter some thought. “Your ability is a powerful one. So immense that I’d be very nervous if almost anyone else had control of it. But I’m not nervous, because it’s you.”
I raise my eyebrows. “You might change your mind after I do this.”
And then, I lean over and kiss him.
He startles at first, but he recovers soon enough, his hands coming up to lightly graze my back. I shiver into his lips, and he groans as his mouth moves deeper. It might be the most intimate kiss we’ve ever had, since it holds so many emotions. Forgiveness. Fear. Trust. Hope.
I’m used to an amalgam of emotions coursing through me at all times—but they tend to be negative. Sticky, intrusive thoughts. Doomsday what-if scenarios. Self-reproachment over my past behavior.
But this…this is the calmest my mind has ever been. I wish I could keep kissing him…for more reasons than one.
