by DC Little
The upset caused a whirlwind of emotions, leaving her feeling ungrounded.
“You’re thinking it changes things,” Tucker said, watching her.
Irritation filled her along with an itching to get up and move. She shoved the furs off and glared at her brother. “It changes everything.”
“Where are you going?” Tucker sat back on his haunches.
“I’ve got sentry duty.” She spat out the words, but really she couldn’t think of a better place to be at this moment. She needed to be alone. The need was stronger than food, water, or the air she breathed. The dwelling closed in on her, trapping her with too-heavy thoughts and changes and ideas and feelings she couldn’t even begin to process.
“I’m taking over for you. Last night was intense. You need your rest.” Tucker slipped his bow over his head and strapped his knife around his thigh.
“I’d rather you take over...this.” She nodded to Orion who stirred, but still mumbled in sleep.
“Sis…” Tucker reached for her.
She stepped back to avoid being touched, slipped her own bow on, and as she strapped her knife onto her thigh, she remembered wrenching it out of Orion’s grasp. What had he really been doing with that knife?
“You know Dad is going to want a debriefing.” Tucker dropped his hand and stepped out of her way.
“He knows where to find me, but delay him if you would. I need...some time.” She allowed her eyes to meet his briefly then snuck out of the dwelling, not giving in to the intense desire to look back at Orion once more.
A good foot of snow had fallen overnight while she took Orion back through the details of their meeting eighteen years ago. As she sucked in the icy air while climbing up to the lookout point, she remembered what he had said and almost lost her grip on the slippery rock.
Meyers had raised him.
A muscular hand grasped hers, holding her against the ledge, and she looked up into the soft eyes of Ethan. “I got you.”
She let him help get her up the rest of the slippery slope. Once she stood at the top, he didn’t let go of her hand right away. She finally, gently, pulled it from his grip to dust the snow off and straighten her bow. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad I was there. The climb’s treacherous this morning.” He shuffled his feet in the snow. “I have a small fire at the point.”
“I bet you’re freezing. Go on and get warm and get some food.” Mercy nodded with her head back toward camp as she walked toward the point.
“It’s not that bad,” Ethan said, but the redness of his fingertips and nose said otherwise. “I haven’t got to spend much time with you since...for a while.”
“Suit yourself.” She continued toward the fire and set down her pouch of food and water. Squatting, she warmed her hands as she looked out over the land surrounding them.
The white world held a sense of peace as the snow sparkled in the early morning sun. Smoke rose from the camp like spirals of mist dissipating in the clearing skies. She breathed deeper even as Ethan stood next to her.
“It’s been uneventful. Even most of the critters are still hunkering down.” Ethan followed her gaze out across the snow-covered trees.
“It’s always uneventful,” she said, but a shiver of apprehension flowed down her spine.
“Not always.” He turned his eyes back to her.
Mercy kept silent. She didn’t feel like talking. She needed to process, which was not something she could do with someone else watching her.
“It’s a big year for you,” Ethan tried again, but she knew him. He wouldn’t pry. He would sit back and wait.
He sat with her in easy silence as they each watched the horizon for the sun to crest the mountains and the camp to awaken. Mercy relaxed in his quiet, supportive company. She liked that about Ethan. His easy-going nature made it easy for her to just be. She glanced at him, his mop of curly hair, his gentle features, kind eyes. It wouldn’t be too bad being matched with him...but it would be weird.
Being matched with someone she cared for as a brother, a friend, wouldn’t be what she always thought it should be. She saw the looks of love between her parents, between Arland and Laurie, Tyler and Hannah, Ryan and Olivia, even the unrequited love between Lexi and Butler...Butler. She let her head hang.
“Do you know when we expect Butler and Ryan to return?”
“Any day now, I believe.” Ethan turned to her. “Why?”
“Sound travels easy in this ravine, Ethan.”
“Yes, it does,” he replied, his calm mannerisms not giving anything away.
“You’ve been on duty most of the night?”
He nodded, shifted his weight. “I saw the...altercation, saw you had it handled, but...with the storm coming in, the wind whipped away any sound.”
Mercy looked into the distance to the furthest dwelling at the end where she saw her dad emerge from his dwelling and stretch. It wouldn’t be long until he climbed up here to speak with her. She lowered to the log they used as a seat by the fire with a heavy sigh.
“You’ll hear it soon enough.” The words flowed from her mouth as he sat beside her. “Hunter...Benjamin...is Orion.”
“THE Orion?” Ethan asked, his eyes only slightly widening, revealing his shock before being replaced by his normal expression of calm.
Mercy nodded, her eyes involuntarily landing on her own dwelling. The smoke billowed then, and she wondered if Tucker and Hunt...Orion, talked about last night or if the long-lost son still slept.
“I see.” Ethan took several steady breaths before going on. “Butler will be pleased.”
“Ecstatic, more like it,” Mercy said, wondering at the bitterness in her words.
“This changes things for you.” Ethan said it as a statement, knowing her enough to read her actions.
She couldn’t decide if she liked his ability to read her or not, but she felt comfortable with him. They were open. Each knew where the other stood...mostly. At least, she knew where he stood. How could she be honest about something she didn’t even know herself?
The sound of snow slipping off rocks at the ledge signaled company coming. More than likely, her dad. She shook her hands and blew out a breath, standing to meet the confrontation head on. They hadn’t exactly left on good terms last night.
Ethan’s gentle touch on her shoulder had her turning back toward him.
“I’m here if you want to talk it out, and...my offer always stands.” He let his hand drop as her dad rounded the ledge into their view.
Grateful for the distraction, Mercy pulled her eyes off Ethan and walked over to give her dad a hand that he waved away.
“I’m not that old yet,” he said with a chuckle.
Mercy shrugged. “It has nothing to do with age. Ethan helped me up that last slippery edge.”
“As he should,” her dad said, coming to a stand. Then his eyes found Ethan. “You’re still up here.”
“Yes, sir. Just stealing a little of your daughter’s time. I’ll let you have it now.” Ethan smiled, waving as he nimbly scurried down the ledge and to the trail through the snow that Mercy and her dad had made.
“He’s a good young man. You could do a lot worse.” Her dad nudged her.
“Dad!” Mercy warned him.
“Oh, have your thoughts changed on that matter since…”
Mercy glared at her dad. “We are not talking about this.”
Her dad shrugged, not successfully hiding the fact that his mouth quirked in a grin. “Have it your way.”
She squeezed her lips together, not wanting to give in to the moment, knowing full well the heaviness of what was to come.
“We are running low on meat.” His words surprised her, but she followed his lead.
“Won’t Butler and Ryan be bringing some back with them?”
“They went on a different kind of hunt.”
Mercy raised her brows.
“Scavenging the old cabin where Ryan had stayed. We need more iron, steel, or any kind of metal, real
ly.”
“So, you’re going to organize a hunt?” she asked.
“Not if I don’t have to.” He stared pointedly at her, arching a brow and letting his smile free. “I know you like to go alone.”
Mercy turned to look toward the woods. Maybe a hunt wouldn’t be a bad idea.
“In the next few days, after the snow melts off. Just try not to bring back any strays this time.”
Her dad’s comment snapped her head back toward him, and she narrowed her eyes. “Well, he’s not a stray, is he? He’s the missing son of your best friend.”
Her dad nodded, his body tense as if ready to pounce.
“Out with it,” she insisted.
“How did he take...the truth?”
“How do you think he did?” Mercy snapped. “He’s thought his dad dead for the last eighteen years. Thought you killed him.”
“I have been hard on him.”
“Yes, you have.” With his admission, her anger died out. Her dad had been right to be hard on a stranger. After all, Orion had been here to kill him. Not that she would share that information. No, that was a secret she would keep. She lowered herself back to the log and sat down, resting her head in her hands.
“This is a lot for you to take in as well.” Her dad rubbed her back like he used to when she was younger. “You know, Mom had the best sleep she had in years last night. I think she turned the corner of her illness. You should visit her after your shift.”
Mercy nodded, her head still in her hands.
“You understand why Orion felt the need to lie...to not be forthcoming with who he was, don’t you?” he asked.
She nodded again. She knew, but her dad did not.
“Working in intel for as long as I did makes you understand the power of a name.”
Mercy couldn’t hold it in any longer. She tried to keep it so Orion could tell him, but she couldn’t keep swallowing it.
“He’s alive, Dad. He survived…and he rai...raised Orion.”
“Who? What are you talking about?” It only took a moment before her dad’s eyes widened, his jaw clenched, and he growled, “Meyers.”
>>>—ORION—<<<
Orion woke with a fuzzy head. It swam in circles, wading through thick sludge as he attempted to sift out the truth. He pushed into a sitting position, holding his head as it spun.
“Rough night, huh, brother?” Tucker’s voice fought through the sludge.
Orion lifted his head enough to open one eye and stare at Tucker sitting cross-legged on his furs, calmly watching him.
“I feel like I’ve been drug through the sewer and left there to rot,” Orion mumbled, letting his head fall back into his hands.
“Well, here we call them latrines, not the sewer, but it doesn’t sound pleasant.” Tucker moved around the dwelling, sounding as if he made tea.
These people were always making tea. It seemed almost wasteful that they had so much water to make drinks. In the coalition, you had to find water daily, pulled up from the well if the coalition let you, brought from the river and boiled, or stolen. It wasn’t as simple as dipping a bucket into a spring and hauling it back to your house.
Tucker remained quiet until several minutes later when he handed him a mug of sweet smelling tea. “Oat straw and licorice. It will help with the information overload. I use it all the time.”
Orion narrowed his eyes at Tucker, wondering why he drank information overload tea so frequently. It seemed nothing changed here in this fabled Zion. Where would he get information overload? He took the tea, grateful for the liquid. In fact, he was grateful for the consistent supply of food and water and a warm bed out of the weather. He had been so preoccupied with his objective and Mercy that he had forgotten how spoiled this place had made him. Guilt soured his stomach as he thought of the girls.
“Not to your liking or is it something else you don’t agree with?” Tucker sat back on his haunches, watching him from across the fire.
“In the coalition, it is a struggle for every sip of water, every bite of food, and having a safe, warm bed every night. This is a true luxury.” Orion stared at the dark liquid in the mug.
“I’m sorry you had to go through that. I looked for another way…” Tucker stopped talking and started fiddling with the fire.
“You were a kid, just as I was. That you were fighting...injuring if not killing in attempt to save me from that fate, is quite admirable.” Orion nodded, watching him closely. He tried to picture Tucker younger, fighting Meyers with his archaic bow and arrows.
Tucker nodded, but said nothing. He set the fire stick aside and sat back down. Orion knew the guy had more to say, and he was fine waiting for it. There was enough to think about as it was. He glanced at Mercy’s empty furs, then at the door. As much as he wanted to see her, he didn’t know if he was ready for the intensity of her eyes just yet.
“Will this heal the hatred you have for my dad?” Tucker asked, his eyes finally meeting his.
“It increases the hatred I have for the Old Man.” Would this new information change the way he saw Chantry? He hoped it would, but after a lifetime of learning to hate the man who he thought had killed his father, it would take some undoing.
“The Old Man?” Tucker asked.
Flashes of Mercy’s blazing eyes shot through Orion’s memory, and his face paled. Would they look at him differently, knowing the enemy had raised him?
Tucker leaned forward, his lips twitching in need to know. “My mom had told me that Meyers had said he would raise you as his own.” He dropped his head. “So, this is why…”
“Why what?” Orion set the mug down, intent on Tucker.
“I…” Tucker shook his head. “That’s a fate I would not wish on anyone, least of all you. I am sorry, brother.”
“Why are you calling me brother?” Orion fumed. Tucker was holding back information again.
“If it had been different, you would have been raised here as my brother, and,” Tucker stood, “you and I will grow as close as brothers. Training is about to begin.” He started toward the door. “Would you like to come?”
Orion shook his head. “Dealing with a mob of stranger haters is a bit much for me right now.”
“It won’t be long until they all know. Things will be different then.” Tucker nodded before ducking out of the dwelling.
Orion wondered if he was right. Would knowing who he really was change the way those guys looked at him? And what would he do now? He had to get back to rescue Lily and the other girls. Not that he could journey that far on his leg just yet.
He pushed out of the furs and pulled on his outer clothes. As he tugged on his boots, especially the right one, his eyes glanced over at the half-finished moccasin. Maybe he would try his hand at sewing after he took a brief walk. Right now his body itched for movement. He noticed his pants fit tighter as he stood. This spoiled life had put some weight on him, and if he didn’t get his leg back soon, he would lose the strength and flexibility he had worked so hard for.
Stretching and testing weight on his leg, he left the crutch behind. It didn’t pain him too much anymore, and the stronger he made it, the sooner he could decide how he could rescue his sister and the girls.
The sun stung his eyes as it reflected off the snow, and a chill ran across his skin. It almost had him turning back to the warm fire in the dwelling, but he had endured worse. Besides, he would have to learn to like this weather if he stayed...the thought had him pausing.
He turned, feeling eyes on him, and he knew whose eyes. At the point stood a regal figure, cloak and red hair blowing in the breeze. His heart surged, and knees weakened. God help him, he wanted to stay. He lifted a hand, holding it there until her slim one returned his greeting. Then he turned and headed toward the far end of camp, Mercy’s favorite spot. He needed to think, and that was the only spot he thought could work.
His footsteps crunched the snow, and he felt chunks of it slip through the holes in his boots. Tucker was right. He needed something
different. He focused on walking in the trail others had made through the foot of snow, remembering the first time he had seen the marvel of snow...had it really been only five weeks?
“Orion.”
His name being called immediately pulled him from his thoughts and sent his heart into overdrive. It would take some time getting used to being called by his given name again. He slowly turned toward the sound made from a voice similar, but more tenuous than Mercy’s. The woman standing in front of Chantry’s dwelling looked so much like her daughter that he felt as if he had jumped forward in time by a few decades.
“Orion,” she said again. Mercy’s mother reached a hand out to him. “I...I would like to apologize for last night. Please. Come sit with me for a while.”
Orion paused as last night’s memories poured forth. His absence had plagued this woman for the last eighteen years. The least he could do was to hear her out. He turned and let her lead him inside her dwelling. His skin bristled being inside the enemy’s lair, but he stopped himself. Chantry was no longer the enemy, was he?
The inside of the conical structure was much like the one he stayed in with Mercy and Tucker, but it was larger and had herbs hanging from the rafters. He sat on a pile of furs that she motioned to, hoping it wasn’t Chantry’s bed.
“I’m sorry we haven’t met before this.” She smiled kindly. “I have been dealing with some sort of illness, but I feel much better today. I have an inclination that it’s because you’re finally here. I need to apologize.”
“Ma’am, I…”
“Please, call me Kris.” She reached out to pat his hand.
“Kris,” he said with a nod. “There is nothing you need to be sorry for.”
“Oh, sweet boy, there is. I could not keep my promise to your father. They stole you right out of my arms.” A tear fell down her cheek as she looked at him from head to toe. “You were such a spirited boy, so sweet and full of fire. You still have those beautiful blue eyes.”
Orion looked down at his hands in his lap. He didn’t know what to say. There were no words to take back what happened. He didn’t blame her. He no longer even blamed Chantry. It was Meyers and always had been, though he did question why his father never came back for him. Even injured, he would always fight to get back to his sister.