by Sally Green
“It’s OK. I don’t care about that. I’m just glad you’re alive. That’s what’s important. I thought you were dead. I didn’t want to believe it but it was the only logical explanation; I knew you’d be at the cave if you could be.”
“I’d be dead if it wasn’t for Van.”
“But why was she there in Geneva? Why risk her life for this amulet—half an amulet?”
“I don’t know. She told me that she’d recently learned that I might have half of it. It wasn’t hard to find out that I was in Geneva and working with Mercury. At first she was afraid that Mercury would get it but after Nesbitt said that you’d died she became much more concerned that it would fall into the Hunters’ hands.”
“Why? What does it do?”
“It doesn’t do anything. It’s only half an amulet. But amulets, whole amulets, heal and protect. She’s gone to a lot of trouble to get this and I think she intends to get the other half, and maybe together they’ll work again.”
“And you really know nothing else about it?”
“No. It was just one of those things my mother had. I value the letters more.” We’re sitting together on the bed and now he shuffles back and leans against the wall. “Van can keep it. I’m not interested in any of that.”
“Any of that?”
“Things. Stuff. Amulets, knives, whatever.”
“I never thought you were.”
He leans his head back, keeping his gaze on me. “It’s good to see you, Nathan. I’m glad you’re alive. Very glad.” He looks tired: his skin is gray and there are dark circles beneath his eyes. He says, “Who’d have thought we’d be here? Alive. Sitting in a beautiful house. Drunk on champagne.”
But his comment about “things” and “stuff” is making me wonder if it was wrong for me to want the Fairborn. I thought that if I had it I could show my father that I won’t kill him. Maybe I don’t need the Fairborn to do that.
“What are you thinking?”
“About stuff. The Fairborn. My father.”
“What’s he like?”
“My father? I don’t know. I really don’t know him. He’s a lot smarter than I expected; cleaner, I mean. He wore a suit. By looking at him you couldn’t tell that he’s killed hundreds of people.”
“I asked what he was like, not what he wore.”
“So what do you want me to say? He’s amazing? Powerful? Well, he is. Only more than I thought was possible. He did this thing that sort of stopped time—snowflakes were hanging in the air, waiting to fall, but we carried on talking as if it was all normal. I still had the Hunter bullet in me. He cut it out. Then he gave me three gifts: a ring, the bullet from my body, and my life.” I hold the ring out to show Gabriel. “Then he cut his palm and I drank his blood. I think all along, all my life, he was planning to give me three gifts. He was waiting for me to return to Mercury’s; he knew I’d head back there. And he did all that, stopped time for me, saved my life by giving me three gifts, and then . . . then he left! He left me again! Left me to Mercury and a valley full of Hunters.”
Gabriel doesn’t say anything.
“I always thought that if we met I’d explain to him, show him, that I would never kill him. And I tried to do that but it was as if he wasn’t listening. He could have killed me but he saved my life. It was the most amazing and wonderful thing and then . . . it wasn’t.”
“He’s your father but he also believes the vision—that you will kill him.”
“He said, ‘I’m not a great believer in visions. But I’m a cautious man,’ or some crap like that. Basically he doesn’t trust me. He didn’t believe that I’d lost the Fairborn. So it seems stuff does matter, Gabriel, because I couldn’t give it to him and so he left me again. The stupid thing is that I hate him for that. Not for killing people, not for eating their hearts, but because he left me when I was a child and then he left me again.”
“You don’t hate him. You’re angry at him.” Gabriel laughs a little. “Which at least means you’re not giving him special preference as you’re angry at most people most of the time.”
I swear at him and then say, “I’m glad you’re alive, Gabriel. Someone else for me to be angry at.” My head’s swimming still and I slump down. “I need to sleep. So do you.”
* * *
I don’t actually sleep but I stay with him for as long as I can, which isn’t long as it’s almost dark and I can’t stand being indoors at night. I have to go outside.
I check out the grounds. They’re large, wooded, sloping down to the lake, enclosed on all sides by that high wall and razor wire. But the lake cannot be walled and there’s a narrow beach of rocks, a small wooden jetty, no boats. The mountains opposite are silhouettes now. The moon appears as the clouds disperse in a warm breeze. It’s perfect for a swim.
The water is cool. Calm. The moon’s reflection seems to fill the water. I swim out a long way and float on my back, looking at the sky.
Then I feel something brush against my leg and instantly my animal adrenaline is released and races throughout my body. But not so much, not so much, because I tell myself to calm down and take slow breaths, and I tell myself it was just a fish or something floating in the water. And I keep taking slow breaths and the adrenaline has gone, disappeared as if it was never there.
The moon is still bright on the lake’s surface and I wonder if I can make the adrenaline come back. I think about possible dangers in the water, monsters lying in the depths, hiding in the dark, swimming up to me—a long, thick eel that could swallow me whole. I submerge myself, breathing out, feeling the cold, noticing how dark it is and imagining the eel coming to me . . .
Nothing happens. Of course no eel appears but my animal adrenaline doesn’t either. I swim back to the surface and look around, almost hoping for a monster to show up, but it doesn’t and after a minute I kick slowly to land.
Gabriel is sitting on the grass near the shore, watching me. I dress and go to sit by him.
He says, “I’ll sleep out here with you.”
I collect some wood, make a fire, and sit by it, feeding it twigs and branches until they run out, and then I collect more. I wonder if Gabriel’s going to ask why I’m not sleeping but he doesn’t speak. He falls asleep just before dawn. And I feel then that I can finally close my eyes. I’ve never turned into an animal during the day unless I’ve been threatened by Hunters, and I don’t think it’ll happen. But at night . . . who knows?
We both wake a few hours later and already Gabriel looks better. He has more color, and smiles when he sees me.
I need to talk to him about Annalise but want to put it off some more.
“Did you sleep?” he asks.
“The same as you. Enough.”
“Good.” He stands and stretches. “We need breakfast. Coffee and croissants and rolls and eggs . . . I’m in the mood for eggs.”
* * *
Gabriel and I spend the day eating. Both of us are underweight—or at least we are at the start of the day. In the afternoon we swim and lie in the sun to dry off. It’s another day of pure blue skies and throbbing, intense heat.
Gabriel says, “We’ve talked a lot but not about that subject we disagree on.”
“I don’t want to disagree with you, especially when we’ve only just met up again.” But I know we have to talk about Annalise. I need to rescue her, which sounds ridiculous and heroic and stupid, but I have to do it. I can’t leave her a prisoner of Mercury. I say, “I have to help her.”
“No. You don’t.”
“I do, Gabriel. Annalise is in trouble because of me. She’s in a coma or whatever it is because of me.”
“It’s not a coma and you owe her nothing.”
“I want to help her, Gabriel. I need to free her. Annalise is my friend. I like her . . . a lot. I understand that you don’t trust her but I know she won’t betray me, hasn’t b
etrayed me.”
Now he looks at me. “How did the Hunters know about Mercury’s apartment in Geneva?”
“What?”
“You heard me. How did they get there? You said the apartment was swarming with them. I didn’t lead them there. I didn’t go anywhere near there. So how did they know about it?”
“Marcus told me that Hunters have a way of finding cuts. They must have detected it somehow.”
Gabriel sits up. “No, Nathan. I don’t think that’s how it works. I don’t think they can detect them from long distances. If they could do that they would’ve found the other cut to Mercury’s real home.”
“We don’t know that they haven’t. And anyway Mercury had time to destroy the cut. They won’t have been able to find it.”
“You build up excuses and come up with explanations but the obvious explanation you won’t admit to is that Annalise told the Hunters about the apartment.”
“You said yourself that I shouldn’t leave the apartment but I did. Someone, I don’t know who, an informer, a Half Blood, could have seen me when I followed you. They could have alerted the Hunters and so they were there when I got back.”
Gabriel is silent but lies back down.
I say, “You have to agree that’s a possibility.”
He doesn’t look at me, which I take as an admission that I’m right.
I say, “Gabriel, I trust her. She tried to help us. She told me how Hunters protect their base, what spells they use.”
“She has to build up your trust to convince you of her devotion. Nathan, spies don’t go around with big banners that say, ‘I’m a spy.’ The whole point is that they behave like they’re on your side.”
I remember Annalise sitting next to me on the roof of Mercury’s cottage, her whole body shaking with fear and I know she didn’t betray me.
“I have to try to help her, Gabriel. It’s what you would do for me and it’s what I must do for her.”
He says nothing.
“I like her a lot, Gabriel. You know that.”
Gabriel puts his arms over his face. He still says nothing but I can see his chest is heaving.
“I’ve got a serious favor to ask you,” I say.
I wait.
So does Gabriel.
“Will you help me find Mercury?” Because we both know that, wherever Mercury is, she’s got Annalise with her. “I need your help, Gabriel.”
He doesn’t reply. Doesn’t uncover his face.
There’s nothing more I can do, so I go down to the lakeshore.
A while later he joins me and we both look out over the calm water, the mountains beyond, and the sky, clear and blue above that.
Gabriel says, “Van told me that you were dead. Nesbitt described your body, your wound. He had the Fairborn and I knew you wouldn’t have let him take it if you were alive. I knew you were dead. There was no doubt in my mind.” He glances at me but looks away again across the lake. “I wept. I wept a lot, Nathan. And I had this idea that I’d go and find your body and hold it to mine and not let it go, ever. I would stay with you, starve, but at least I’d die holding you. That’s all I thought was left to me.”
“Gabriel . . .” But I don’t know what to say. I don’t want him to starve or die. “You’re my friend, Gabriel. My best, my only friend. But . . .”
He turns to me. “I’ll stay with you always; go where you go always. I don’t want to be anywhere else. I couldn’t stand to be anywhere else. If you go to Mercury then I’ll go too. If you want me to help free Annalise then I will.”
I turn to face him and see how angry he looks. I say, “Thank you.” I think it’s the first time I’ve thanked Gabriel for anything but I know that he doesn’t want my thanks; he doesn’t want any of it.
A Proposition
“I have a proposition.” Van started the elaborate evening meal with this comment, though we have yet to hear what the proposition is and the meal is nearly over.
Van is sitting at the head of the table, I’m to her left, and Gabriel is sitting opposite me. He and I have been together all day, eating, swimming, sunbathing, and occasionally arguing. Gabriel says that we’re on holiday and that this is what fain holidays are like. We don’t argue about Annalise; she isn’t mentioned again. We do argue about who runs faster (me, by a mile, and yet Gabriel seems to think he wins every race because of some handicap system that applies to fain bodies), swims further underwater (me by fifty meters but yet again the handicap system reveals my failings), climbs faster (there’s a climbing wall in the garden—as in most drug-baron homes, I expect—and this one Gabriel wins before the handicap system comes in; after the handicap is applied I’m relegated to slug speed). We eat a lot and discuss food a lot: whether croissants are better dipped in coffee or hot chocolate, bread with peanut butter or chocolate spread, chips with mayo or ketchup, that sort of thing. I realize how much I’ve missed him. He’s good to be on holiday with but now the games are over.
The dinner is formal, with a lot of crystal and cutlery and candles, though I’m dressed in my old clothes. Van is immaculate in a cream-colored suit and Gabriel is wearing new clothes he found in the house. He and Van make a beautiful pair. Nesbitt is a lot less beautiful and has on the same black clothes he’s always in. He’s both chef and waiter and I have to admit he’s pretty good. In fact, now I think about it, he’s pretty handy at most things: cooking, serving tea, hiding a trail, strangling Hunters. As far as assistants go, Van has the best.
We’ve had soup, then lamb, but no dessert. “I think we’re all sweet enough” is Van’s comment. I snort a laugh.
She turns to me, saying, “I’m serious. Nesbitt told me that you threatened to cut his tongue out but you resisted. I suspect your father wouldn’t have held back.” Van watches Nesbitt walk away with a pile of plates. “Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t do it.” She hesitates and glances at the doorway through which Nesbitt has just exited. “Nesbitt and I are old friends and, much as my life would be infinitely more peaceful should Nesbitt be mute, he’s a lot more useful with a tongue in his head.”
I’m trying to work out their relationship. Van says she and Nesbitt are old friends and she looks like she’s only a few years older than me, but she acts as if she’s older than Nesbitt. They appear to be like a master and servant who’ve been together for decades.
I say, “Nesbitt told me you’re an expert at potions.”
“He’s very generous. And certainly I prefer potions. For example, I would never use anything as crude as a knife to cut a tongue out. Potions are extremely adaptable and more precise than even the sharpest blade. A certain potion dropped on your tongue and you would eat it—your own tongue, I mean.”
“I’ve never heard of that. My gran’s Gift was potions too. She had a strong Gift.”
“I take it you’re referring to your grandmother on the White side of your family?” Van doesn’t wait for me to reply before going on. “Most White Witches know little about the power of Black potions. Potions have infinite uses and strengths. They are, in my humble opinion, the most powerful of weapons.”
“And you’ve used that weapon? Made someone eat their own tongue?”
Van gives the faintest shrug. “I have few enemies; most I have dealt with.”
Nesbitt has returned to clear more plates and bowls and as he piles them up he says, “Tell ’em about the potion for those who don’t repay you.” He grins at me and Gabriel. “I earn my keep, boys. You should think about earning yours.”
“I’m not sure that those details are for the dinner table,” Van says. “Though it is very effective.”
“I think Gabriel has repaid you for your help,” I say to Van.
“Yes. All in all I like to think we have done well by each other. Gabriel is alive and well, and I have half the amulet as he promised. Gabriel has been gracious and helpful: the perfect patient and th
e perfect guest. And you, Nathan, have your own charms.”
“Yeah?” I can’t believe Van finds anything about me charming. I look at Gabriel, who is grinning, no doubt at the comment about my charms, but I tell Van, “We’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“That is, of course, entirely up to you.”
“It is.”
“May I inquire as to your plans?”
“You can inquire all you like.”
“I assume that you’re intending to find Mercury and help your friend Annalise escape. A worthy quest for a young man who is blinded by love.” She smiles at me and then turns her smile on Gabriel.
“I’m not blinded by love.”
“No. Of course not,” Van says. “And even so the quest is a worthy one.”
Nesbitt brings coffee and places the pot centrally on the table between us all. Van continues. “It feels rather unfair that I know your plans and you don’t know mine. And I’m nothing if not fair.” She waves at Nesbitt to indicate he can pour the coffee. “I too am on a quest of sorts.”
“To find the other half of the amulet?” I ask.
Van shakes her head slightly. “That is something I hope to do at some stage, yes, but it isn’t my first priority.”
“And what is?”
“Since you left the world of White Witches, Nathan, a lot has happened. The old Council Leader, Gloria Dale, has been ousted. Soul O’Brien used your escape from the Council building to bring about her downfall. No prisoner has ever escaped before and you are the son of Marcus. Your escape was both unprecedented and unforgivable.”
“But I was a prisoner of Soul.” Or at least I think I was.