Unbound, page 30
When you are ready, young one, come back to see me. The Council will respect you now, more than ever. You are no longer simply Mafte’ach, but a very special woman. The only woman alive with the power to grant them death without sacrifice. Live and study and be young. And then come back to me, nighean-céile and we will ponder the meaning of this gift together.
Bring Eaden.
With fondest thoughts,
Amerlyn
Bring Eaden. I sighed, wishing it were as easy as Amerlyn suggested. I was ready, but was he?
I’d spent a good part of my first few weeks home contemplating little else. The truth was, despite my best intentions, I understood why Eaden had left. I didn’t regret the decision I’d made that day and knew that, at the time, I couldn’t see another way out that left him in one piece. But I understood nonetheless. I’d made the decision to end my life without him and I knew the pain that must have caused him. Because when I woke up and he was gone, when I realized he had left the Council building, the pain in my head was only an echo of the agony of my heart.
Stuart was the one, when I begged, who told me what happened after everything had gone dark for me, after I had crashed to the floor in a tangled heap with Sabas underneath me. He told me how Eaden had regained his feet and walked unsteadily towards me. How with painstaking care, he had lifted me in his arms and walked out of the Council chambers.
Days later and only after I threatened to place my hands on his chest and suck the life out of him, Stuart finally relented and told me the rest. Told me that the three Sisters had sombrely followed Eaden out of the Council chambers. That he had stood in the small antechamber and wept while clutching me in his arms, and then when I stirred, that he had almost dropped me. That while Elora and Sita had run to fetch me water and blankets and Mara had run to get Amerlyn, Eaden had slowly, silently, left.
I cried for days after he had finished and I’m afraid that Sita gave him the rough side of her tongue for not leaving out some of those details. I can only imagine that she must have suffered a part of what I did, knowing that she had felt his heart break along with mine.
It was only after the blinding headache had receded that day that I was aware of the other change. That I became aware of my...awareness. Of them. Of all of them.
I could feel each and every one of them, although it took a little bit of time before I was really able to differentiate. Only after there had been some time to grow accustomed to these new sensations was I able to explain it to the others. The best way to describe it was like being aware of your elbow or your knee. During the course of the day, you don’t really think about them. You don’t wonder where your elbow or your knee is. But the moment you concentrate, you can feel them, tell the difference between them. You know where they are, whether or not they’re bent or straight, hot or cold, aching or relaxed. It doesn’t get in the way; it’s just there, all the time.
The other part was just as surprising, if not more so. It had been completely unexpected. I was simply annoyed and exhausted and fed up of being stared at and talked about and argued over. Gabriel had been discussing me as I weren’t even there when I had an overwhelming urge to stand up and just tell everyone to leave me the hell alone and let me sleep. And cry. I wanted to cry forever.
I wish I had been feeling better so that I could have truly appreciated how shocking it was when he did just that. Gabriel turned to the room of Council members, now clustered like old wives in the small antechamber, and ordered them all out. He then excused himself and shut the door quietly, leaving Amerlyn and the three Sisters gape-mouthed and staring at me quizzically.
Amerlyn guessed first when I told him I could feel them. Our best guess is that somehow the immortals’ ability to calm their Mafte’ach had been conferred on me along with their form of mind control. He had made me practise on Stuart, who was thoroughly creeped out at being my guinea pig. I was too desolate to really take advantage of it and at my worst, only forced him to demonstrate his skills in highland dancing. He’s quite good, actually. I think it helped his cause with Sita more than hindered.
Amerlyn’s initial hypothesis was that my XX karyotype somehow mutated the genetic code of the Mafte’ach chromosomal sequence that I carried. He believes that whatever had prevented the other female foetuses from being viable had finally worked itself out with my genetic code. But that was just a hypothesis, and his recent letter seemed to shed no more light on this unforeseen aberration.
Regardless, the Council had no choice but to let me leave, seeing as how it seemed I could make them if I had to. Or kill them. Not that I wanted to hurt anyone. Except maybe Sabas, and he was already dead. Amun had disappeared that day, too – he resigned from the Council and went on sabbatical. Coward.
I’d stayed in a hotel in London with Amerlyn and the Sisters for a few days. Stuart had gone looking for Eaden, but with each passing day I knew he was further away. I felt him leaving me every step of the way. And the worst of it was that some part of me understood. I couldn’t even be furious with him for leaving me. I had left him first. And I knew the fear of living could be worse than the fear of dying. But this was Eaden. He was the best of men and so when he was ready, I knew he would find me.
So I came home. And began to live. Last week I had taken my G1 and passed with flying colours. I could even parallel park. Next September, I would be a freshman at university.
For the first time in a very long time, I felt fully present in my life. Except, of course, for the part of me that wanted, needed, and demanded Eaden. I fed it small scraps of hope, confident that our story was not over yet. Not yet.
“Sorry, Ray-Ray, running late.” Lacey was breathless and stunning today with white blonde hair.
I got up and hugged her tightly, slipping the letter back into my pocket. “What else is new?”
“But you should have seen this guy I was talking to. He was delicious. I got digits!” She held up a coffee cup triumphantly to show me the number written in what looked like lip liner on one side of the tall paper cup.
Our friendship had fallen back into the easy pattern of our childhood. Lacey was pleased by my newfound confidence, but rather nonplussed. Like everything else, she took it in stride. She didn’t challenge my story that I had run away with my new boyfriend for an impromptu backpacking adventure in Europe, just as she didn’t question my sudden return. She was just happy to have me back safe and sound.
My mother had been a different story altogether. She was initially so relieved that all she could do was cry. Her anger came later, and then, as expected, the heavily applied use of guilt.
“How could you do this to me, Rachel,” she had demanded one day. “After everything I’ve been through?”
We’ve been through, Mom, I corrected her silently. You meant everything we’ve been through, right?
At first, I let her vent, but within two weeks of my return, disoriented and heartbroken, I’d simply had enough. Apologizing one final time for the worry that I knew I had caused her, I let her know that I wasn’t willing to discuss it any further. Several minutes of silence and a few terse dinner conversations followed, but to her credit, she didn’t bring it up again.
After mending fences with Jane and the staff at the library, my life resumed. Actually, in a way, nothing had changed. Except me, of course. And the Eaden-shaped hole that was left in my life.
“Are you coming out with us tonight?” Lacey asked. Her chopsticks were poised in the air, ready to attack the last spring roll.
“I’m not sure yet.” Like a cobra, my own chopsticks flashed to the plate and I popped the small crunchy bite in my mouth, grinning devilishly.
She stuck her tongue out at me. “Hot date?”
I tried not to avoid her eyes. “Maybe,” I admitted and then braced myself for the interrogation I knew was coming.
“Are you holding out on me again, Ray? Is this the guy from Fever last week? No wait; is it the hot barista who asked for your phone number in the Annex?”
I said nothing, only smiled mysteriously.
“C’mon! New guy?”
I shook my head. I was never good at keeping people in suspense. “Old guy.”
Her eyes opened in surprise. “He’s back? Mr. X is back in town?” Lacey had taken to calling Eaden Mr. X. Mostly because I still hadn’t told her his name. It was silly, but it felt like a jinx to say his name out loud. I wanted the first time I said his name again to be for him alone.
“Uh-huh.”
“Well?” she demanded, “What does he have to say for himself? When did he get back? When did you see him?””
I held my hand up to halt the neverending flow of questions I knew Lacey was capable of. “We haven’t spoken yet, actually. I just know he’s back in town.”
“Oh.” Lacey’s face fell in a way that meant she was confused and slightly hurt. Plainly, she thought I was still holding something back.
“There’s nothing to tell at this point, Lacey.” With a dizzying sense of déjà vu, I realized this discussion was almost identical to the one we’d had back in the fall. No, I thought to myself. This time will be different. I’m different. I suppressed a snort. Different didn’t really do it justice.
“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know what going to happen between us, but I think there’s hope that we might be able to work things out.”
I was surprised when she didn’t respond. She fiddled with an extra set of chopsticks, still wrapped in the crisp white paper. “You’re different now, you know?” she said like an echo of my thoughts. She tilted her head to look at me and smiled bemusedly. “Older or...” She seemed to be searching for the right word, but gave up and shrugged. “Something’s different. Sometimes when you talk, it’s like...like you’ve really lived through something.” She paused. “I thought I’d been in love, but now, when I see you, I wonder.” Her mouth twisted. “What’s it like?”
The blush I felt colouring my cheeks was too quick to suppress. I closed my eyes, felt Eaden’s eyes on me, his hands, his lips.
“Wonderful. Terrifying. Exhausting. Exciting...painful.” I smiled broadly. “Worth it.”
She nodded as though I had answered her question exactly as she’d hoped.
“Do you forgive him?”
“There’s nothing to forgive.”
“Then why have you two been apart?”
“I’ve been waiting for him to realize that, too.” She couldn’t know that I wasn’t only speaking of Eaden’s capacity to forgive me, but his capacity to forgive himself.
She digested this piece of information. “Will I get to meet him this time? I mean, if you get back together?”
I laughed. “Lacey,” I said with promise, “If things work out the way I hope, you will definitely get to meet him.”
This was enough for Lacey. She grinned happily and then launched herself fully into describing, in precise detail, the most alluring physical features of the young man whose number was now advertised on the side of her grande mocha.
Lacey was who she was, and I loved her for it, but today, I felt my mind slipping like a worn record back to the groove in my memory where Eaden existed. So it was a relief when I gave her a hug goodbye and promised to join her at night if my plans changed. I stood and watched her walk down the street, waiting until she was out of sight, before I turned and headed for my own destination.
Since the moment I had felt his presence early this morning, this place had weighed heavily on my mind. I could see where I needed to be now and my feet carried me there unresisting. I tried at first to be conscious only of my own physical body. Tried hard to concentrate on the squelching sounds of my green rain boots on the sodden grass or the feel of the warm early spring sun on my cheeks. Tried not to search for him with my new sense. Tried not to feel how close or far away he was.
Futile.
Utterly futile to try when every cell in my body seemed to be quivering in anticipation, demanding release from the pain that waiting caused. I sat down on the bench carefully. Tried not to rush this moment. Closed my eyes and then opened them to look upon the small pond in front of me. No ducks splashing about today. The muddy bank was still barren of the springtime grasses that would soon obscure the edges from my view. I hadn’t come back here since I came home. At first, I wasn’t sure I could bear the memory. Later I felt it would be worth keeping for spring.
For beginnings.
For Eaden.
A few other people were taking advantage of the sun today, despite the still-cool temperatures. The promise of warmer weather hung in the air like a gift on display that was not yet allowed to be opened. A tiny towheaded girl with bright pink boots galloped towards a goose waving her hands with sheer joy until the goose’s startled wing flapping frightened her. She fell backward onto her well-padded bottom with a thump. Within seconds, her mother had scooped her up with an audible chuckle.
“Shhh. It’s okay, Ruby. I think he’s just as scared as you are.”
So true.
I let my eyes close again and saw the light dance over my eyelids.
Not yet.
Breathed in. Breathed out. I waited.
Now.
Standing, I stretched my fingertips to the sky, then shoved my hands in my pockets and began my walk home.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Left foot.
Right foot.
I repeated this over and over to drown out the thumping heartbeats that pounded through my chest and head and made my blood zing through my veins.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Past the large tree on the corner of my street. Past the squat, brown-bricked Asian temple where incense wafted out the door, no matter what time of day.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Past the small white-shuttered house where the woman with the two Dalmatians lived.
Left foot.
Right foot.
Up the front walk of my apartment building. Up the stairs to my front door. With trembling fingers I unlocked the door. Waiting. I let myself breathe, listen, feel.
There.
My breath shallow, my throat tight, I turned.
He stood at the bottom of the steps, his expression carefully neutral until my own timid smile caused his lips to twitch up slightly.
But his eyes.
Oh, his eyes.
I looked, searched and saw the grief that lived there, the courage, the fear, and something new.
Hope.
Recognizing it, my smile broadened and a laugh that was part relief and part sob escaped before I could stop it. My trembling fingers covered my mouth, trying to hold back the torrent of words that had been waiting for him for so long now.
He moved slowly up the stairs towards me, his eyes never leaving mine.
I’m drowning, I thought giddily. And then, let me drown forever.
My skin tingled. Ached. Craved.
And then he was there. Standing so close that I could no longer tell where I ended and he began, my senses – old and new – baffled by his proximity. So close, we were almost touching.
I cleared my throat, tried to find the words that would bridge then and now.
“Eaden, I –”
He shook his head slowly. Reached for my hand that was fluttering uselessly in front of me and brought it slowly to his lips. Fire raced through my hand and up my arms, causing my heart to skip, my breath to labour.
Unhurriedly, our faces inches apart, he brought his lips down to mine.
How had I survived this long without him? Every word I had to say, explanation I intended to give, question to be asked, faded like water on the sidewalk under the hot summer sun. The fire that raced up my arms now shot through my stomach and I felt my knees tremble as we let our bodies say what we had not been able to.
And then.
I pulled back. Smiled. Met his hopeful eyes that looked back at me for my reaction. I reached behind me with one hand and opened the door and then with the other, clasped his strong hand in mine.
“There’s no rush,” I said. “We have all the time in the world.”
He nodded, smiled, and followed me inside.
* * * * *
The End
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I have no idea how to properly acknowledge all of the people who have helped me get Unbound out of my head and into the world. I’m so very grateful to have the opportunity to thank my alpha and beta readers; Lynne Hendry, Jacqueline Boss, Sonia Verma, Megan Merwart, Susan Bolder, Barb Mancini, Lyn Elliot, and Joanne Meyrick. Thank you for taking the time to read Unbound and for the kind words, critical voices, and thoughtful suggestions. I feel so lucky to have such intelligent, generous women to share my first story with. Thank you to my husband and son for their love, encouragement, and support, to my sister and my mother for their cheerleading, and to my father for sharing his passion for storytelling.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Georgia Bell was raised on a steady diet of science fiction and fantasy, courtesy of her father, a man who loved family, fishing, scotch, and science (although not necessarily in that order). Georgia is an avid reader of young adult fiction, and a lover of wine, music, children, and cats (although not necessarily in that order). She is currently hard at work writing UNKNOWN, the second book of the All Good Things series. UNBOUND is her debut book.
You can connect with Georgia on her blog at: http://georgiabellbooks.blogspot.ca or on twitter at: https://twitter.com/gabellbooks
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One: The Beginning of the End
Chapter Two: Somewhere Only We Know
Chapter Three: Never Let Me Go
Chapter Four: Black Coffee
Chapter Five: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing
Chapter Six: Brilliant Disguise
Chapter Seven: White Horse
Chapter Eight: Fool on a Hill
Chapter Nine: Sweet Emotion
Chapter Ten: Avalon
Chapter Eleven: Another Nail in my Heart
Chapter Twelve: All Good Things
