A Prim and a Prophet - Cover

A Prim and a Prophet

Copyright© 2019 by Christopher Podhola

Chapter 18: Pelt the Prim

The sun was already reaching into her window to tickle her cheek when she awoke. Dreams were funny things, because she had felt as if she had barely been asleep for an hour, and yet she had clearly slept for the entire night, and didn’t wake up until the sun was beaming.

Everyone else in the house was clearly awake. Their shadows gathered out back, so Whitney climbed out of her bed and made her way to greet them. Blake, Carol Anne, Tommy, their new acquaintances Jim and Raris, all surrounded Jo-Karna, as Whitney went through the back patio door. She slipped her mind into Tommy’s to see what they were up to.

She didn’t expect to see what she saw as Tommy’s vision filled her conscious mind.

They all stood golf balls in hand, throwing them at Jo-Karna, and not just tossing them. They were throwing them at her as hard as they could.

Jo-Karna wasn’t completely defenseless. She had a broomstick, cut down by half, in each hand, and every time they threw one of their golf balls at her, she quickly, gracefully and easily batted it away. The feat was impressive, because of all of them throwing balls at her repeatedly. She was deflecting golf balls from five different directions at the same time, and it didn’t seem like they were holding back. They were all firing them at her as rapidly as they could. Jo-Karna smiled hungrily, as if she were playing a game. She spun, swatting balls with her makeshift swords, cutting across, arcing her stick in front of her, smacking another one, and then spinning as she knocked away more. What made it even more impressive was that her eyes were silver which meant she was not piggybacking with Raris. She was accomplishing this without seeing any of the balls thrown at her—from her radar like senses, and not from visual input.

Her eyes turned from silver to the color of her bolainin’s eyes and she spoke. “Jo-Laina! Do you remember this exercise! Pelt the Prim! We used to play this all the time to see who could last the longest!”

“And who usually won?” Whitney said as she made her way down the patio steps onto the back lawn.

“Jo-Viel--when you were first introduced to the game. She outmatched you for a number of years, but once you caught up to her skill, you quickly passed her, and she could never again match your record. She was your mentor, and my sister, if your awakening hasn’t included her into your memories yet.”

“What was her record?” Tommy asked as the group stopped throwing balls at her.

“Jo-Laina’s record was seven-hundred-and forty-six, thrown from twenty-two sets of hands! Nobody has ever even come close to that! Jo-Viel’s best was three hundred and fourteen thrown by sixteen.”

“Wow,” Tommy said, and Blake and Jim agreed. “Wow,” each of them agreed, with their eyes focused on Whitney.

“You should try it!” Jo-Karna said. “I should give you a few pointers on using your bracelet anyway.”

“Nah, that’s okay,” Whitney said. “I’ll leave the showing off to you.”

“Yeah. I don’t think Whitney’s ready for that kind of thing,” Carol Anne said. “She’s too delicate for that”

Jo-Karna’s eyebrows raised and then lowered. “Is this true, Jo-Laina? Are you too ... delicate?”

“No,” Whitney answered. “It’s not that.”

“Oh, you are too,” Carol Anne said. Her aunt came up from behind her, wrapped her arm around her and hugged her close. “Whitney isn’t very athletic at all. Tommy’s the athletic one in the family.”

“Mom, she...”

“Fine,” Whitney said. “I’ll give it a try.”

“Good,” Jo-Karna said. “I was starting to worry there for a second—thought maybe Isolem Treff had somehow replaced you with an imposter!”

Whitney shook her aunt’s arm loose and she took the center of the back yard. She reached her hand out toward Jo-Karna. “Hand me the sticks,” Whitney said.

Jo-Karna responded by tossing the sticks aside. “You don’t need the sticks. Your bracelet works by mental command. Use your own weapons.”

“Weapons,” Carol Anne said. “Whitney doesn’t have any wea...”

As Carol Anne spoke Whitney’s bracelet began to grow a metallic looking black fabric from it. It crawled her way up her arm and seemed to replace her clothing as it went and it didn’t stop until the transformation was complete. One minute she was standing there in sweatpants and a t-shirt, the next minute she was dressed completely in black, wearing boots with sharp horns sticking out of the front and backs of them, a bandolier strapped around her with throwing daggers and knives, two scabbards hanging from her back with the hilts of swords sticking above her shoulders.

“Now I see why Jo-Karna won’t call you Whitney,” Blake said. “Wearing that, you look nothing like a Whitney.” His comment prompted a backhanded smack from Carol Anne. The smack said he shouldn’t encourage her.

“How does this work anyway. Where does this stuff come from?”

“The weapons were made by your name-sake, the first Jo-Laina. She created the weapons from correllium. Even the suit that covers your skin is made from fiber from the metal. She was a very creative woman. The bracelet you are wearing is also made from correllium, but was changed by the original Jo-Laina’s request. A wizard altered them to link to the Prim wearing them and to send and retrieve the weapons to and from the grey itself. I wish your sister had thought to give you your Pocket too. Together they are very powerful. Hand one of your swords to Jim,” Jo-Karna said.

“Wait? There are wizards?” Tommy asked, prompting a nod from Jo-Karna.

Whitney drew one of her swords from its home on her back, walked over to Jim and handed it to him. As soon as her fingers let go of it, it began to fade into nothing.

“Now call forth a bow and a quiver.”

Whitney did as instructed, a bow, and a quiver appeared on her back.

“Now give both of those to me.”

Whitney reached around, pulled the bow from her back, and handed it to Jo-Karna, and Jo-Karna helped her unstrap the quiver, strapping it to her own back. “You can lend your weapons to another Prim, but they will only last for as long as you wear yours. When you put yours away, hers will also return to the grey, whether she is done with them or not.”

“How come we didn’t bring them with us?” she asked raising her wrist to signify her bracelet, and therefore her weapons.

“I don’t think your mother would have appreciated having to carry weapons around in her womb for nine months,” Jo-Karna said with a laugh. “We tried, Jo-Laina. At least I know I was wearing mine when I crossed. They obviously didn’t complete the journey, because we didn’t know that we would have to be born on this side of the veil. We also had no idea time was so different over here than it is there. I left two weeks before you were supposed to leave, and had to wait almost one hundred years for you to get here. It is a good thing that Prim live so long.”

Whitney thought about what Jo-Karna was saying and it matched the claim Jo-Vanna made. She said she left only the day before, and yet Whitney aged almost seventeen years on this side of the veil. Time truly was different.

“How long do the Moog live?”

“You are wondering how much Isolem Treff aged while he was in between?” Jo-Karna questioned.

“I don’t know for sure. I wouldn’t have thought a Moog could survive in the grey at all. He may not have aged a single second while he was there. There is neither space nor time there. The grey does not work that way, but we have never known any other being to be capable of surviving the grey for even a second.”

“What? Wait,” Whitney said. “I thought I was supposed to take others with me back across.”

“That is different. You will skip the grey. Anyway, we waste time. You and Tommy have a lot to do today. Tommy, gather up the golfing balls.”

“Golf balls.”

“Golf balls, golfing balls—gather them up and pass them out.”

Tommy grabbed a bucket lying by one of the lawn chairs and began to go around, scooping them up. Jim and Blake both ended up helping and they finished within a few minutes. They returned to the group and Tommy began to go around and let everyone scoop them.

“I really don’t think Whitney should be doing this,” Carol Anne proclaimed.

“Mrs. Leighton, I understand you love your daughter...”

“My aunt,” Whitney corrected.

Jo-Karna’s eyebrows furled but she continued talking to Carol. “I understand that you love her, and that you want to protect her, but your impression of her is incorrect. She is not who you think she is. Watch, and you will see.”

Whitney withdrew from Tommy as the group began to ready themselves. It was their job to pelt her with golf balls. It was their job to throw the balls at her as hard as they could, trying to peg her with them. That was the game and it ended as soon as one of them was able to connect their ball with any part of her. If that happened, it would mean she lost the game. Jo-Karna suggested that on the other side of the veils, she could handle having seven hundred balls thrown at her by twenty-two people. That was a feat she wouldn’t mind seeing herself but, for now, she didn’t have to. All she had to do was avoid balls by five different people. It would have been six, but Jo-Karna hadn’t grabbed any.

Whitney drew her swords and lowered them toward the ground. She quieted her mind, focusing on everything around her, waiting. She could sense their shadows, and watched as those shadows, at first, remained still. She wasn’t sure how she would know when the balls were coming at her, but according to Jo-Karna, she would know and she would react instinctually. Her limitations would be her lack of training. She had forgotten that as much as she had forgotten anything else, and her lack of conditioning wouldn’t help either. A factor in which Jo-Karna insisted she begin to rectify immediately.

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