by A. L. Knorr
"It's ringing," I said.
"You seem surprised."
"It's an old-"
A voice on the other end of the phone cut me off. A woman's voice. "Hello?"
"Hi, I'm looking to speak to Brent Sutherland, please."
The woman bellowed Brent's name, and I heard a distant, muffled reply. The hair on my forearms stood up at the sound of a voice I hadn't heard in over a decade, but knew well. After some thumps and a bit of static, my father came on the line.
"Hello, Brent here." He sounded jovial.
"Hi Dad," I said.
The phone went quiet, but I knew he hadn't hung up. I could hear him breathing. The silence drew long.
"Dad?"
"Georjayna?" His voice was soft. "What a surprise. What can I do for you?"
I blinked and straightened. He sounded like he was taking an order for pizza.
"I need to know why you left." I looked up as Lachlan gave a reassuring smile. "I'm sorry it’s taken me so long to call."
Lachlan closed his eyes at this and shook his head just a little. I knew what he was thinking this time. I shouldn't be apologizing. Cursed Canadian sensibilities.
"What are you apologizing for?" Brent sounded startled. "I'm the one who walked out on you."
My eyes widened at this stark admission.
"I guess your mother hasn't spoken plainly with you, even after all this time." He sounded tired. "Otherwise you wouldn't bother to call."
"You remember what she's like, I'm sure. What it's like trying to get a straight answer ..."
He chuckled. "Yes, I do. Giving square information upon request is not one of Liz's strong points. Well, she had her chance. I told myself years ago that if you ever screwed up enough courage to call me after what I did," his voice actually cracked on the word 'courage’. My heart picked up speed as the emotions rose in his voice. “…I’d set you straight myself,” he finished.
I was holding my breath. Letting it out on a long slow exhale, I sat back in the chair and met Lachlan's eyes. He watched me patiently. His energy was so still. I lapped it up, grateful he was there, taking strength from him.
"That's all I'm after," I replied calmly.
"I'm not proud of some things I've done," Brent said, "and maybe given half a chance I would go back and do them over again. But I don't believe in living with regret. Do you?"
"No, but what does that mean? That you don't regret leaving?"
"I did, for a while. But regrets have a way of poisoning the air, it spreads to the folks around you. The truth is, Georjie, I miss you. I've always missed you, but I couldn't look at you without seeing the secret that your mother was keeping from me."
"Secret?"
He didn't even warn me. "The fact that you weren't mine."
My head snapped up, and I looked past Lachlan's face, unable to see him when all my attention was narrowed on the voice coming from the tiny holes in the earpiece. "I'm not?"
"No. She tried and tried to convince me that you were. The more she lied, the more distant I became. I'm only sorry that it’s hurt you more than anyone. I would have stayed, Georjie." There was that broken sound again. "I really would have. If she'd only been honest. I gave her so many chances."
"Why were you so certain I wasn't yours?" My throat felt as dry as paper.
He gave a laugh, and I could hear the shape of his lungs. He had that dry wheezing sound born of long-term commitment to cigarettes.
"It wasn't difficult. Liz went away to Edinburgh for three months to work with an old professor of hers, someone she really admired who was working on a book. She came back pregnant. She did her best to convince me that she was pregnant before she left Canada, and fool that I am, I wanted to believe her even though something in my gut told me she was lying."
I shivered and Lachlan got up and came around the desk to put his hands on my shoulders, rub my arms. His touch was like a flame in the darkness, pushing back the frost on a cold window.
"I would have been embarrassed to leave a pregnant woman. I always hoped you were mine, but you never felt like my blood." He stopped, and I heard him sigh. "I don't want to hurt you, Georjayna. I never wanted to hurt you, but I know I did. That was inevitable."
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, and I brushed my hand across them. "I loved you," I croaked. "I needed a dad."
"Oh, Georjie." His voice hitched. "I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. But please understand that I just couldn't stay any longer. I grew to hate myself for letting Liz treat me like an idiot. I was young and foolish, on top of everything. I just couldn't pretend to be your father any more. Your mother and I, while you were only but two or three, we tried to have another baby. We couldn't. And it was me that was broken. There was never anything wrong with Liz's plumbing."
A tear slipped down my cheek, and I backhanded it away. "That was the proof you needed."
"Yes. And still she lied to me. Even in the face of the evidence given to us by our doctor. Still she lied, telling me I must have lost the ability somewhere along the way, that you were my miracle baby. Don't you see?" He pleaded with me to understand.
I knew my mother, so yes, I did see. And though I would never have made the choice Brent made and walked out on a baby I loved, even if she wasn't mine, some part of me understood. I couldn't find my voice to say I understood, though, my throat was too tight.
Brent was talking again. "Liz used you to manipulate me into staying, and I finally just had enough of it. We fought, there was so much resentment, especially from my side. I couldn't think of another way to break out of it than just to leave altogether. Start over with a new life."
He went quiet again, and I heard the hope even in his breathing.
Lachlan drew the nearest chair across the floor so he could sit next to me. He put his arm across the back of my chair where I could feel him against my shoulder blades.
"You were a nice kid, Georjie. None of it was your fault; I hope if you take anything away from this conversation, it’s that. If I had been a better man, maybe I could have found the courage to stay in spite of the lies."
Another tear tracked its way to my jaw, and I rested my elbow on the desk and my chin in my hand. I didn't know what to say. I had some understanding now, but I wasn't sure if I felt better or worse for it.
"I wish you the best, I really do," Brent said with a sigh. "I hope you can find your real father, if that's what you want. I know you had it hard, kid. I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't deserve that, especially when I can't forgive Liz."
"Thanks for being honest." I was relieved to hear my voice sounded steady in spite of the tears dripping off my chin. I'd heard enough, had enough. I just wanted off the phone now.
"Least I could do, Georjayna."
"Good bye, Brent." This would be the last time I'd ever speak to the man who was almost my father, and we both knew it.
"Good bye, Georjayna. Good luck."
I placed the receiver gently back in its cradle. Lachlan's arms came around me, and I melted into him.
Chapter Seven
"What? Sorry, Bonnie. What did you say?" I looked up from where I sat at one end of the couch, vacantly watching the card game going on between Jasher, Saxony, Lachlan, and Evie. I'd lucked out from being required to play since the game needed an even number. I could see Saxony was eager to rope me in, but Lachlan came to my rescue. He knew I was in no state to focus on a game.
Bonnie bent at the waist and peered into my face like a narrator popping in from the side of a television screen. "I said, would you like me to make up a room for you and Lachlan? Or did you want to share one with Saxony?" She asked this quietly enough that no one else was distracted from the game.
I caught Lachlan's eye, and he gave me a wink before turning back to the game. I had originally thought Lachlan would stay at his place tonight, but now that he was here, and he was the only one who knew what had transpired between Brent and me, I didn't want him to leave.
I peered up at
Bonnie. "Do you mind if Lachlan stays?"
"Not at all." She dimpled knowingly. "He's more than welcome."
"I'll help you." I made to get up, but Bonnie gently pushed me back down. "Nonsense. You stay here with your friends. Ainslie and I have things well in hand." She was off with a swish of tartan shawl.
Lorne and Maisie came in wearing their ‘jimjams’ at nine. Once they'd said their goodnights and the game was on a break, Saxony pulled me aside.
"I have to admit I'm relieved." She leaned in close and kept her voice low.
I turned to my friend. "Why?"
"Because I wasn't sure if I could believe you. I thought there was a chance you were giving a glowing review about Lachlan to hide the fact that Jasher had hurt you. But honestly, Lachlan is ..." She trailed off but waggled her eyebrows. "Jasher said he was nice in the car, but if the Irish lad is anything, it’s understated. I'm so happy for you." She threaded her arm through mine.
"Thanks." I wondered if Jasher had let some of the details about Daracha loose or if he'd left it to me to explain the whole crazy thing. Between Saxony getting settled, having dinner, and the conversation with Brent, I hadn't had a moment to think about how to tell her, or to plot how to get her alone where we wouldn't be overheard. "What else did Jasher say in the car?"
Saxony shrugged. "Nothing. He talked about Evie, went on about her for far too long if you ask me, but don't tell him I told you that. Oh, he did say that you found a body in the walls of some ruin not far from Blackmouth, but you already mentioned that in your texts. Why?" Her green eyes roved my face.
"Just wondering." I cracked a yawn. If it were possible for emotions to run a hilly marathon, mine had done one today. "Tell me about Arcturus Academy.”
"Shhh." Saxony's gaze darted about the room. "I'm not allowed to talk about it."
"Not at all?"
"With you it’s okay, and my family because they know what—well, they just know. But no one else." She lowered her voice further. "I have something kind of big to ask you, though. A favor."
I cocked a brow at her. Interesting.
"Later," she whispered and disengaged herself from my arm to slide back into her spot as Jasher began to shuffle the deck.
I was thankful when the evening’s festivities broke up well before midnight. My mom and Aunt Faith had gone to bed even before the kids had, and jetlag had finally gotten the best of Saxony. Even the thought of talking drained my will to stay awake. Her travel weariness was my saving grace.
After our goodnights, I went to the room Bonnie and Ainslie made up for Lachlan and me. I closed the door behind me with an immense sigh. My arms and chest felt heavy, my eyes hot with unshed tears.
Lachlan came in shortly after, carrying a small duffle bag filled with his overnight things. He set it on the floor and came over to where I was sitting on the bed, mustering up the will to put on my pajamas. He sat next to me, his body warming my entire right side. "How are you feeling? Big day."
"Exhausted."
"I bet. You'll feel better after a good night’s sleep."
I nodded and slowly got ready for bed. We crawled between the sheets and met in the middle. I lay my head on Lachlan's chest and he wrapped an arm around my back.
"I think Saxony is dying to get you to herself," he said against my temple.
"Tomorrow." I let my eyes drift shut. Heaviness stole over my bones.
"I'm guessing you haven't had a chance to tell her."
"You mean about Daracha? No, not yet."
"But you are planning to involve her?"
I was silent. Interesting word he'd chosen: involve. Lachlan didn't know the nature of my friends, and as of yet, I didn't have permission to tell him.
If Saxony hadn't been an elemental, telling her would be a bad idea. All it would do was put her in danger. But she was an elemental and that changed things, but should it? We'd made a promise to one another that we'd be there for one another if ever we were needed, no matter how far away, no matter the trouble. I knew she'd step in to help me if I asked; the problem was, I wasn't sure I wanted to ask.
Lachlan kissed my temple and gave me a squeeze. "Sleep, Georjie. I won't bother you with any more questions."
And that was good, because I didn't have an answer to that last one. Sleep stole upon me like a thief, bringing with it a pocketful of vivid dreams …
Saxony and I stood in the back garden surrounded by white roses; their heady scent full in our nostrils. The sky was clear black with a swathe of stars, unusual for the Highlands. If our breath wasn't puncturing the air in front of our faces, I would have guessed we were in Stavarjak. But it didn't matter where we were, because there was danger afoot.
"How are we supposed to see it if it’s black?" Saxony had her hands out in a defensive stance. Her feet were planted, her sharp eyes scanned the woods beyond the maze. My friend’s hands were aflame, held low so the firelight didn't block out the view of the trees.
I covered her left shoulder. "It flickers and wavers like heat. It won't be easy to see, but when it moves, it blocks out whatever is behind it."
"There." She pointed a glowing finger toward the path leading down to the ruin.
"I can't see anything," I muttered, squinting into the darkness.
"I can." Her voice was pitched low. "Come forward," she commanded the ithe. We waited, but it stayed in the shadow.
Saxony cocked her arm back and fired a ball of flame into the sky. Shadows slid across the ground as it arced over the garden maze and seemed to hover for a moment at the tree-line. I caught a glimpse of the ithe's tall, stooped form, standing motionless just inside the trees. My gaze swept around, searching for the black witch sure to be nearby. There was no sign of Daracha.
“There you are,” Saxony hissed as she strode forward, fingers lit. She glanced over her shoulder once, eyes lit like lamps. Her fiery fists came together and apart, and between them arced a line of flames. Her palms came together again, and the fireball forming there grew to the size of a human head. Her fingers became spindles of coal as her hands rotated around one another, stoking the flaming projectile hotter, larger.
I followed, muscles tense. The earth seemed to vibrate under my feet, buzzing with energy. I drew on it, and the trees around us crackled as they swelled with force. The leaves on the rosebushes fluttered and snapped as though in a hurricane. All the plantlife around us hissed, recoiling to strike.
Saxony cocked her arm back a second time. With a sound like a blowtorch, she loosed the huge ball of fire at the ithe. It streaked through the sky, blinding me temporarily with a white flash that faded reluctantly. The heat made the hairs on my face stand up.
The fireball hurtled through the night air, as bright as a small sun, then it was no longer. The world blacked out totally before my vision seeped back.
"What happened?" I blinked, searching for the ithe. "Did you kill it?"
I had my answer a moment later as my vision cleared. The ithe was still there, the fireball was just ... gone. Swallowed up. Not a speck of ash or cinder littered the ground.
"It didn't work." But, Saxony's hands were aglow once more. She stalked forward. "I'd like to see it suck this up," she snarled. But the fire she produced this time didn't come from her hands. She opened her mouth and out came a jet of flame so hot that I stumbled back. Cringing against the glare and pure liquid heat, I shielded my face with my arm. The torrent of fire didn't stop for a long time.
What I saw from under my arm, eyes stinging, filled me with a cold dread. The fire jetting from Saxony's mouth just disappeared as though through a door. It was poured into the black hole of the ithe's body. Saxony stopped and glanced back at me, eyes wide. Even with her eyes ablaze, her expression was clear: shock and a mounting terror. What kind of a creature was this?
The ithe took a few steps toward us. I grabbed Saxony by a wrist and hauled her backward, not caring that she was almost unbearably hot under my hand.
"Stay back," I yelled at the ithe.
&nbs
p; It stopped just out of the trees, its head wavering back and forth on its long neck, its arms dangling by its sides. Its legs bowed and bent like the weight of the world lay across its shoulders. It took another hesitant step forward.
“The fire doesn't even come out the other side," Saxony gasped.
The wind rose at our backs, tugging at our hair and our clothes. But it wasn't a benign highland breeze. No, I knew this feeling, and the suction was increasing fast.
"Run!"
We bolted toward the castle as the wind grew into a gale that wailed and screamed in our ears. The suction hit me in the chest and shoulders so hard I had to lean forward at an unnatural angle. I grasped for the nearest statue and missed. My feet slid across the ground, raking furrows through the mossy earth. I threw out a hand and a woody, flexible branch reached back, wrapping itself around my wrist and holding on.
I heard Saxony scream and squinted under a raised arm to see her, hands still blazing, sliding backward though her feet tried to pedal her forward. Sparks flew from her hands and light flashed at her hip and knee joints as she strained against the wind.
Still bound by the shrub gripping my wrist, my feet came off the ground. My hair whipped my face and stung my cheeks and eyes. I reached out for Saxony, straining, but I couldn't reach her.
She crouched low and got on her belly, trying to get under the wind but only succeeding in sliding across the ground, fingers raking the soil. She grasped at the roots of a passing rosebush.
The ithe entered the garden and advanced. The wind picked up power. The sound of it grew to a near deafening level, like the scream of a predatory bird. I cringed at the noise, wishing I could cover my ears with my hands.
Saxony lost her grip on the shrub. A fire mage, capable of more strength than even the strongest human male. Astounded, I watched in horror as she slid down the path toward the ithe. Leaves and branches and petals swirled through the air, all of it disappeared into the ithe's body, vanishing totally.