Unbound, page 23
Staring directly into her vivid blue eyes, I thought of glaciers. “I’m very grateful.”
Her smile was deferential. “The honour is mine.”
Eaden’s calm countenance belied the small twitch of a smile as he turned towards Stuart. “Sita, I believe you’ve met Stuart?”
Alarmingly, Stuart’s face had become almost purple; his eyes wider than an owl’s. His fists clenched and unclenched rapidly at his sides.
She swung her gaze towards him with a warm smile that seemed genuine. “Yes, I remember Stuart,” she said. “How are you?”
He seemed to let out his breath in a rush. “Smashing, all good. And you?”
I didn’t hear Sita’s reply, distracted as I was by the look of amusement that swept across Eaden’s face. He had the devil in his eye.
Sita dipped her head towards me slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll need to start preparing for tomorrow.” Her small steps were graceful and sure as she departed.
Stuart groaned. “I thought you were on my side, mate.”
“I am.” Eaden grinned. “That’s one of the reasons I brought her over.”
Scrubbing his forehead, Stuart shot Eaden a reproving glance. “Some warning next time, please.”
Eaden arched a brow. “Next time? Stuart, a chara, if you can’t find an opening now, there’s nothing left I can do for you.”
“Right. Right.” Stuart mumbled. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glanced over his shoulder. Brightening, he straightened quickly and chucked Eaden on the arm. “I think I’ve got an idea.” He turned his broad, smiling face to me. “A pleasure to meet you, Rachel. It’s about time.” Directing that last bit towards Eaden, he then he strode off, an eager set to his broad shoulders.
As Eaden watched him leave his smile faded and a look of resigned sadness replaced the grin that he’d worn so briefly. “Will you walk with me?”
I nodded and he led me quietly back out through the arched doorway of the Great Hall and then outside. The cool air was refreshing. Lifting my head, I watched the way my breath danced and hovered in the air as we walked. Following the same rock-strewn path I had watched a few of the Sisters take this morning, we wound our way down towards the water in companionable silence, the grey sky spread like a blanket over the loch.
Reaching the shore, we stood and watched the small waves roll in and break gently over the rocks a few feet away until Eaden took both my hands in his so that I faced him. He looked down into my eyes without pretence, without the careful barrier he usually held in place. The enormity of his life experiences laid bare in his gaze.
“You know that I love you.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” My doubts seemed to have existed in an entirely different lifetime.
His sad grey eyes searched mine intensely. I couldn’t tell what he was looking for. Was he really unsure that I felt the same way?
“No,” he shook his head, guessing from my troubled expression what I was thinking. “I know how you feel. I’m just hoping it’s enough.”
“What’s enough?”
He swallowed thickly. “Love.”
I squeezed his hands tightly, trying to understand what he meant.
He looked down at the rocks we stood on, his voice soft. “I’ve tried to live an honourable life, no matter how long it has lasted. Tried to be moral, decent, trustworthy – all of the things my father would have wanted me to be. And yet...loving you, having you love me, seems more important now than anything else I’ve ever done. My mind is telling me that I must protect you because it is the right thing to do, but my heart...” He sighed. “My heart demands that I keep you safe because everything else is irrelevant.” He looked up to meet my eyes and I felt staggered by the honesty that filled them. “Rachel, the world and everyone in it can be blown to pieces for all I care. You’re the only thing that has any value for me now.”
His words, as sweeping as they were romantic, were bittersweet. More than anything else, Eaden’s decency was at the core of who he was. “You might think that, but I don’t believe it. You will do what is right, you always have.”
He shook his head, doubt and uncertainty radiating from his gaze.
“It will be enough Eaden, it will be enough because that’s who you are.”
He pulled me into his arms then and for a long time we were quiet. His chin rested lightly on the top of my head as we both tried to imagine what the future may have in store for us.
Eventually, he shifted and sighed. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning for London.”
Letting go, he stepped back and looked out over the loch.
“Okay,” I wrapped my arms around myself and looked with him. They grey surface was a perfect reflection of the stormy-looking sky.
Bending down, he picked up a small stone, tested its weight in his hand and then pulled his arm back. I watched the stone skip once, twice, three times before sinking quickly. I searched the ground, looking for a stone the right shape and size. Finding it, I stood and with a snap of my wrist sent it skidding lightly over the surface of the loch. I counted five bounces before it plunged heavily into the dark water. Triumphantly, I smiled at Eaden and held up five fingers.
“Lucky shot,” he said.
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” I assured him.
Within a few seconds we had found two more stones of the right heft. Counting together we launched them simultaneously and watched as they skipped over the waves side by side. Laughing as my rock bounced one final bounce after his, I scrambled to find a few more. We skipped stones until my shoulder ached and even then I was reluctant to stop, pleased to have found at least one activity where I could hold my own. Pleased to simply be with him; for a short time able to forget what was behind us, and what was to come.
We walked slowly back up to Nanog, hand in hand.
“I like Stuart,” I said.
He eyed me sardonically. “He’s hard not to like. But the boy is trouble.”
Boy? He was 65. “Really?” I laughed, “He seems rather…hapless.” Like a big friendly dog, Stuart seemed eager and guileless.
“Oh, he might be that, too. But trouble just as surely.” Despite his stern words, there was nothing but fondness in his tone. “I’ve had little peace since he was assigned to me.” Something mournful swept across his features, however briefly. “I’d thought he’d be passed along to another, but…” Eaden cleared his throat. “I’m glad to still have his training.”
The silence stretched as I realized that Eaden’s feelings for me had changed more than my own life.
“Do you know what would be perfect right now?” I asked.
“I could think of several things,” he said. The twinkle was back in his grey eyes.
“Hot chocolate,” I said, blithely ignoring the bait. I had no intention of living in a constant state of sexual frustration. The next time we found ourselves so entwined, I intended to make sure we finished what we started.
“As you wish, my lady.” He made a formal leg before opening the heavy door that led into the hall.
Playing the part of the princess, I turned my nose up and haughtily stepped inside, only to come face to face with a tall blonde haired Sister who waited patiently for us in the front lobby.
She smiled prettily at him. “Amerlyn sent me. He’d like to speak with you immediately.”
Eaden sighed and turned to me, resigned.
“I know, I know. I’ll see you later.” I stood on tiptoe and whispered in his ear. “Bring hot chocolate.”
Grinning, he nodded and strode off in search of Amerlyn.
Ignoring the openly curious stare of the blonde sister with the amber-coloured eyes, I climbed the stairs slowly, not in any great hurry to return to my room alone.
Seeing the door ajar, my heart fluttered for a moment as my vision clouded with déjà vu. Pushing open the door, it sped up in earnest as I recognized the person who stood by my window.
“Hello, Sannah.”
“Rachel.” It was not a friendly tone. Her red hair was tied neatly back and she was dressed more casually than I’d seen before this. She seemed younger in the small room, without the formal trappings of her position. Beautiful and self-possessed, but only a woman, after all.
The green-eyed monster twitched its tail and growled as she walked past me to perch on the edge of my bed. Our bed, I thought fiercely.
She eyed me thoughtfully. “He loves you, you know.”
I guessed that we weren’t going to mess around with social niceties. Good. As long as I knew the rules, I could play the game.
“Yes,” I agreed, moving over to sink into the armchair across from her, “he does.” I would not dissemble in front of her.
“I wonder if you know what that means,” she said. She peered at me. “You seem bright enough.”
I sighed, no longer in the mood for a duel. At any rate, I was pretty sure she would win. “I’m eighteen years old, Sannah. I’m not a witch or a priestess – just a girl who’s had a rather unusual week. I won’t pretend I understand half of what I’ve seen since I left home. Why don’t you just tell me what it means?”
To my surprise, her answering smile was not entirely lacking in warmth. “Fair enough,” she said. “But remember that you asked.”
She was silent for a few moments, her eyes resting on her elegant hands, which lay neatly folded in her lap. When she looked back up, I saw the softness that had been visible, if fleeting, yesterday when we’d arrived. “Eaden is the best of men – loyal, courageous, honourable.” Her soft expression faltered, her bitterness undisguised. “But he is still only a man, Rachel. And men are fools in love. Even you must see how he tortures himself with self-reproach for revealing himself to you. He is sickened that he placed his needs above yours…and yet,” she whispered, “he can’t seem to help himself.”
Sannah’s soft words stabbed sharper than any barb she might have hurled at me. Mostly, because I knew them for truth. I’d seen what it did to Eaden to love me, against his better judgement, to try to find some of his own happiness after denying himself for so long. “I know.”
Her eyes hardened slightly at my admission. “For him to request the help of the Sisters of Cailleach, to bring you here, to risk the lives of those who accompany you...” She shook her head. “It is unlike him. He is not a selfish man, but like all men, he is capable of acting selfishly. There will be a price to pay.” She looked directly at me, her gaze unwavering. “If things do not go well, mark my words, it will destroy him.”
Angry now, my words were sharp. “I don’t see what other choice we have. Maybe you have no investment in the world as it is, but I do. There are people I love, mortals I love, who stand to lose everything if I am given to Amun. I won’t stand by and watch the world I know be changed beyond recognition.” My voice surged with conviction, with confidence.
“Oh dear.” She pressed slim fingers against her lips, shook her head lightly, eyes muted with pity. “Of course I want to protect the world, Rachel. The same as you do. Don’t you see? The surest way, the safest way to do that does not require anyone you or I love to be placed in jeopardy. Not my Sisters, not Amerlyn, and most importantly to us both, not Eaden.”
Whatever I had been about to say crumbled in my mouth like dust.
“Eaden will betray everything he has stood for, everything he believes in, to save you. If you really love him, as much as he loves you, you will spare him that agony.” She stood and walked towards the door. Looking back at me, her eyes were kind. “You are only a brief moment in time in his very long existence. He will survive the loss of you.”
She left, gliding quietly out the door and pulling it gently closed behind her.
Chapter Eighteen: Landslide
Staring blankly at the back of the door, I pulled my knees up to chest and wrapped my arms around them. With long deep breaths I tried to quell the nausea that had erupted as surely as the despair that filled me. Rocking slightly, I struggled to tear apart Sannah’s words, to poke a gaping hole through them, all the while knowing it was hopeless.
God help me, she was right, though she hadn’t said the words out loud. Eaden was fighting to keep me alive, when my death, my utter destruction was the surest solution to our problem. And I would let him; I wanted him to. Because I didn’t want to die.
My tears spilled down my cheeks onto my knees, a dark patch widening into a puddle on my jeans, my father’s words echoing in my head from a day long ago when I’d sat at the kitchen table, staring down at the pale yellow exercise book, picking idly at a metallic star sticker. With perfect penmanship, my teacher had written “Great Work” at the top of the page, followed by several exclamation points.
My chest hurting, I’d put my head down on the table, folding my arms over top of me. Maybe I was too sick to go to school tomorrow. The table smelt like lemon furniture polish.
I heard the chair beside me softly scrape back along the floor and then my father’s voice. “Having a rough time, Rabbit?” He placed a gentle hand on my head and let it rest there. “Can I help?”
The tears that I had been holding back leaked out of the corners of my eyes. I shook my head imperceptibly. “No.”
He waited. I could hear the ticking of the stove timer and smell the freshly mown grass through the open window.
Raising my head, I wiped a hand across my runny nose and stared mournfully at him. My father’s eyes were gentle.
Taking a deep breath, I blurted it out. “Mrs. Woolsey said I had to read my story out loud tomorrow...to the whole class!”
He nodded seriously, considering this. It was only the second week of fifth grade. No way Mrs. Woolsey could have known that public speaking ranked above liver and onions and vaccinations on the list of things I hated most.
“Did you tell her that this is hard for you?”
I sniffled. “I tried, but she didn’t listen.”
“I see. What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know!” I wailed. My tears flowed in earnest now.
My father rubbed my arm. “Shhhh, Rabbit. Tell me what you’re worried about.”
I glared at him, eyes narrowing. “You know.”
Last year, my first public-speaking assignment had left me a stuttering, stammering mess. There was also vomit. A lot of it.
“So you’re worried that will happen again?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a big worry,” he agreed. We sat silently together for a time.
“I wish I were brave,” I mumbled.
My father smiled. “I think you are.”
I shook my head stubbornly. “That’s because you’re my dad.”
“Do you remember Atticus Finch?”
I stared sullenly, not entirely willing to be mollified so easily. “Scout’s dad.”
“Yes. I’ll never forget what Atticus said about being brave. He said that real courage is knowing that you’re licked before you start, and starting anyway.”
We had read To Kill a Mockingbird together over the summer. I had wanted to be just like Scout. And I thought my dad was like Atticus.
“Rabbit,” he said, “being brave is about being scared and still trying. Don’t you see? That’s you.”
“I wish I were brave,” I whispered to the empty room at Tír na nÓg. The truth was, I wanted to live. More than that, I wanted a life with Eaden. And I would try, even knowing that we were licked. But if it wasn’t possible to have that, then what I wanted was for Eaden to be okay. The truth of Sannah’s words cut deeply. Eaden would not be okay if saving my life meant the destruction of all others. Was I brave enough to face that?
Hearing the door, I lifted my head quickly and tried to brush the tears away.
Too late.
Deep concern lining his brow, he moved swiftly to crouch in front of me. His hand brushed the curtain of long hair back from my face. “Mo cridhe, what is it, what’s wrong?”
I shook my head, tried to smile, but traitorous tears continued to roll down my face. “Nothing, I’m okay.”
His grey eyes filled with tenderness. “You’re not okay. Tell me what happened.” He looked around the room searching for some clue to my distress.
“No, I’m fine.” I struggled to stop my tears, to push down the hopelessness that had settled on me like a blanket. Feeling foolish, I realized that Sannah had pointed out what must have been obvious to everyone else. I’d been considering only two outcomes if we left the decision to the Council. We would convince them not to use me to breed more Mafte’ach or we would not. The third option, the one Sannah had so skilfully presented, removed not only this uncertainty, but the risk to all others, both mortal and immortal. It would also end my life.
“Rachel, please, tell me what’s wrong.” He was pleading now, his eyes searching mine to gain some understanding, his hands gripping my arms. My tears came in earnest then, because I did want to tell him. I wanted him to make this all better, to convince me that Sannah was wrong, that this would work out, that we really did have all the time in the world to love each other. I wanted Eaden to be my knight, my saviour, my angel. Which wasn’t fair at all, because Eaden was immortal, but he wasn’t omnipotent.
“Please.” His voice was strained. “I can’t bear to see you like this.”
And I could see that this was true. My pain wounded him, adding insult to injury in a life filled with sacrifice. It was what I needed. Steeling myself, I took a long, shuddering breath and wiped away my tears. If I wasn’t yet strong enough for anyone else, I could at least be strong enough for Eaden. I could hope for the chance to live the happy life I’d only begun to imagine, and if that wasn’t possible, I would make the right decision, even if he couldn’t. Tucking this thought safely away from him, I took the easiest path I could find. “I miss my friends, Eaden, I miss my Mom.”
This was not really a lie. Unexpectedly, I did miss my mother right now. She knew something of loss. Of injustice. Suddenly, I longed to have her hold me as she might once have, if her own grief hadn’t destroyed the best part of her. If she’d been allowed to keep the men she’d loved.
