Part Eight
Melinda
stepped closer to the back wall not sure of her sister’s intentions. Her mind
was still reeling from everything that had been happening but none of them
impacted her more than the discovery of Angie’s transformation to Tulkoy.
“You
couldn’t stay with me on the path could you? Just couldn’t resist going off on
your own?”
“I
didn’t just go off on my own,” Melinda shot back. “I called and called but you
didn’t answer. What was I supposed to do? And then I came across the fork in
the path and made a choice. That’s all it was.”
Tulkoy
started pacing back and forth. “You’ve spoiled everything Melly. You…”
“Don’t
call me Melly,” Melinda said, sharply.
Tulkoy
stopped and stared at her, thought for a moment, then continued pacing. “What
am I going to do?”
Melinda
didn’t respond.
Tulkoy
stopped to face her. “I don’t have much choice in this. Neither do you Melinda.
So maybe the question is, ‘What are you going to do’?”
Melinda
stared into Tulkoy’s eyes searching for the familiar sparkle that always
resided in Angie’s eyes, but it was no longer there, replaced by a cold
evilness that gave Melinda the chills. “What has happened to you? What’s going
on Angie?”
“It’s
Tulkoy to you now. What’s going on is no concern of yours unless you decide to
join us.”
“Join
what? Join a bunch of murderers! Have you lost your senses?”
Tulkoy
fought back the urge to lash out at Melinda like she would have to one of her
subjects. “We are not murderers, and don’t speak to me like that again or…...”
“Or
what? Put me in a cage like the others?”
Tulkoy
squared her shoulders. “If need be, yes.”
Something
in Tulkoy’s tone made Melinda realize that she was no longer dealing with her
sister but with a malicious person who had taken over Angie’s personality. She
reasoned just as quickly that the danger she was in was real and that her life
most definitely hung in the balance of what she said.
Melinda
cleared her throat. “What exactly would I be joining?”
Tulkoy
studied her for a moment before accepting that she was being sincere. Because
Melinda was her sister, Tulkoy chose to forego the usual short orientation
speech she gave to the new people requesting to join the Dalkum. She filled her
in on the basic knowledge of what the Dalkum consisted of and what was expected
of its members. When she finished, she asked, “Do you have any questions?”
Melinda
shook her head. “No, not yet.”
Tulkoy
nodded and continued. “The Dalkum is from an ancient cult that developed
somewhere near Mycenae. In spite of the fact that it originated long before the
Greek mythological gods, it was still in its infant stages when the Greeks came
into power and was overshadowed by their mythology. It wasn’t until five years
ago that it was unearthed and re-discovered.”
“But
wouldn’t such a discovery be made public knowledge?” Melinda interrupted.
For
the first time that night, Tulkoy smiled. “Normally it would have been but the
discovery was made by one of the people who live in this neighborhood and he
claimed he was overwhelmed with a feeling of secrecy and so never revealed to
the authorities his find.”
Tulkoy
saw the puzzled look on Melinda’s face and before Melinda could ask, Tulkoy
added, “So how did I become the Polcara or queen in modern English?”
Melinda
nodded.
“There
was much confusion at first, but the more the scrolls were deciphered, the
clearer it became that the true Polcara would be identified by a black
birthmark shaped like the head of a Mustela putorius, or as most people know
it…..a polecat.”
Melinda
gasped remembering her grandfather saying that Angie’s birthmark looked like a
polecat and when she had asked what that was; he said it was like a weasel and
a carnivore, an animal that eats other animals.
(continued)
Chelle
Munroe©
May 1,
2014
Chelle, as always, a great writing. You do a great job!
ReplyDeleteThank you Rocky for your continued support and encouragement as I value both. It surely helps to inspire me to write the best I can to satisfy the readers.
ReplyDeleteChelle
The following was sent to me: Love the last two installments. My head is filled with what could be happening, and at the same time knowing there is no way to anticipate what you've created! That's the magic in your writing. This story is so remarkable; true novel material.
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