Page 77 of Anatomy of the Immortal Species
Nyavolski was already moving the driver’s seat to adjust it to his large size, lips curled up into a displeased grimace. From Amelia’s work with him, she knew that even if he appeared on edge, he never crossed the line, completing each task with precision and perfectionism. Still, Nyavolski’s barrage of swear words and emotional outbursts progressively escalated as he went about this particular task.
Hearing him, Helena said she’d ride with Zacharia – but not before stowing her small medical kit in the trunk. She then popped her head through the open window of the car. “Amelia, come ride with me. I want to discuss something with you.”
Feeling a bit relieved to have an excuse to avoid another round of Nyavolski’s colourful swearing, Amelia settled into the back seat of Zacharia’s vehicle. Alex and Viktor Volk remained with the surgeon, and the two groups set off northwards towards Triglav.
The cars glided alongside green fields and tall trees speckled with vibrant flowers. Occasionally, small villages with well-kept houses peeked through the branches. Farther out in the fields, herds of animals grazed under the watchful eyes of shepherd dogs. Spring was in full bloom, Amelia realised, and she hadn’t even noticed winter slipping away.
Zacharia’s large palms rested steadily on the wheel, now andthen stroking it to keep the car aligned on the winding road. In the passenger seat, Helena’s red hair fell like a veil over her face. She tossed it back with a flick of her hand and focused on a crumpled geographical map with faded colours.
She glanced back towards Amelia. “What do you think? Will Korovin be out of Prokaliya soon? I mean… have you received any information from above?”
Amelia pursed her lips. “No, I haven’t.”
Bitterness rose in her throat. She’d joined this trip because of her medical background, but maybe Helena wanted her in the car only for her visions. Was a clairvoyantallthe others saw in her, as well? Did they reduce her entire worth to her ability – or inability, as it were – of producing a vision?
Helena clicked her tongue. “Let’s hope he stays in there a bit longer. At least until we’ve proven there’s a genetic anomaly to explain our little trip to the temple. Otherwise, he’ll hunt us to the edge of the world and back.”
Her laughter rang through the car, while Amelia gazed out at the blossoming elms lining the road. A stab of guilt pierced through her.
Whatever lay behind the regeneration issues, genetics was the path to finding some answers, she reminded herself. If she could help, maybe she’d feel a bit… more justified when the time came to run off with Mikhail’s ring.
The thought sent an icy chill coursing through her. “Why is Mikhail against us obtaining genetic material from the temple?”
Helena grunted. “Because he’s so stuck in his ways, he can’t see beyond the ghosts of his past that he worships.”
Amelia stifled a huff. Mikhail worshipped no one. “You keep saying that desecrating the temple would unleash a curse. What curse, exactly?”
“Who knows? We’ll probably burn in Hell. But even without desecrating any temples, I’ve racked up enough sins toguarantee myself a spot there. So, I’m doing everything I can to stay on this earth as long as possible. Which means finding the reason behind the problems with our regeneration, fixing it, and continuing my happy life! We’re getting close!”
She tapped a finger on the map. “We’ll enter Triglav near the town of Kranjska Gora, which is located in the mountains. From there, we head towards the Varshik Passage, a crucial route through the terrain. I haven’t been here in forever, but the road was reconstructed in the early twentieth century. It should make things easier than they used to be…” She traced her finger along the map. “Right… It should be the twenty-third bend on the road. We’ll start counting the bends after we pass the Devil. The map indicates the location is further into the forest, so we will need to walk there.”
“What’s ‘the Devil’?” Amelia asked.
“A marker in the cliffs.”
The car climbed up the winding mountain road, the asphalt twisting into tight hairpin turns that revealed the steep drop forming on their right.
“There it is!” Helena exclaimed a while later. “Stop at the lay-by. I want to be sure, so we don’t mess up the counting.”
Zacharia pulled the car into a small pebble-covered expansion at the bend. Moments later, their companions arrived in the other car. Helena jumped out, her eyes fixed on the cliffs towering over them from the opposite side of the road.
Amelia got out and followed Helena’s gaze. The Devil stared back at them from the rock. It resembled a human face, sculpted into the cliff by nature itself. Two asymmetrical horns jutted out from its head – one long and reaching upward, the other shorter, broken and patched with the grass sprouting from the cracks in the rock.
“Nature’s creations are often more extraordinary than the agile hand of any sculptor,” Alex remarked, slipping past Amelia. “I’veread everything there is to know about the temple and this park. Actually… everything about Slovenia. Want to hear something interesting? The Devil is just a rock with a peculiar shape, but it’s also a key landmark for any creature trying to find the Temple of the Dead Immortals. Yet, the Devil is located within the Triglav National Park, a popular destination for locals and tourists alike. And there’s not a single human text, encyclopaedia, or travel guide that mentions it. But he’s impossible to miss! Makes me wonder if it’s invisible to humans. Someone would’ve mentioned it otherwise, right?”
“Itisinvisible to humans.” Viktor studied the cliff.
Nyavolski muttered a curse under his breath. “I get the creeps from that dude! Let’s move.”
Amelia found herself meeting the gaze of the stone face. For her, he wasn’t a devil. He was a human figure, imprisoned in the rock.
She returned to the car, but before closing the door, she used the SUV’s height to peer down into the precipice beyond the guardrail. The depth seemed to pull at her, and she slammed the door harder than intended, retreating into her seat and curling up against the lingering chill of unease.
***
Amelia was trying to avoid counting the bends in the road with Helena, fearing it might trigger memories of her past panic attacks and compulsions. That chapter of her life, which her shrink had labelled as post-traumatic stress disorder, seemed closed for now. The urge to count had been gone for months, but the rising anxiety tightening in her stomach threatened to provoke it again.
“Five…” the nymph counted.
