“Do it. She must never know.” He turned and walked out of the barn. I stood there with the burlap sack in my hand. I was transfixed by it. More than a minute passed before I finally looked through the barn door to see Dad was almost back to the house. I took the arrow out of its bag – it was beautiful. It was as straight as the ruler I used in school, as glossy as Maggie’s hair in the sunshine, and perfectly weighted when I balanced it on one finger. I held in my hand the weapon of a god.
The sound of the front door to the house slamming shut brought me back to reality. I carefully tucked the arrow back into the sack that had been protecting it. Dad didn’t have to tell me he expected me to find a new location for its safekeeping. I didn’t like the idea that it had been jammed under a bale of hay beneath a leaky roof – not at all a fitting location for a relic that once belonged to Hercules.
I found a metal file Dad kept in his toolbox, a large one with a narrow end. I began working a groove on the back side of one of the support beams that butted up against the wall of the barn. It took me nearly two hours of steady filing, but when I was done, I tested the arrow wrapped carefully in the burlap bag, and it fit snugly inside the backside of the beam. Save for the wood shavings on the floor, no one would ever suspect such a hiding place. It was protected from wind, rain, dust, and was invisible from every angle. I scooped up the wood shavings and threw them onto the pile of sheep droppings on the other side of the barn.
I started for the house but stopped. I was still brimming with pride for Dad trusting me with the arrow, but he needed to know I was ready for the chairmanship, too. I needed for him to know I was responsible and worthy of his trust. I grabbed the shovel and began cleaning up the droppings that I had neglected from the night before. At the same time, I threw out the wood filings from my arrow’s new hiding place.
I had just put the shovel away when I heard Zandra’s scream. Zandra must have been dropped off for the night by Maggie and her brother; I looked down our lane and saw no sign of a car. I stood paralyzed trying to be sure I had heard it through my ears and not in my mind. If Zandra were in trouble, it would be me she’d contact for help. I tried to tune into Maggie through our betrothal connection to find out if they were in trouble.
Zandra screamed my name, loud and long, “ZEEEEEETHUUUUUS.” I couldn't imagine anything that would make Zandra scream like that. I sprinted toward her scream, but didn’t find her in the yard. There was no sign of anyone. I ran around the back of the house but found the pasture behind the house empty, too. My heart was racing as I threw open the front door of the house to find our parents lying in a shared pool of blood with Zandra kneeling beside them.
Her face was drained of all color. I wrapped my arms around Zandra, my mind unable to make sense of the two bloody figures on the floor. Dad’s words echoed in my mind, warning me to sever my connection with Zandra. I did as Dad had instructed.
She tried probing my thoughts, but I had already shut her out as Dad told me. I got an eerie feeling that he had known his death was coming and that was why he chose to give me the arrow that night. He didn’t want Zandra to know I had it. Had he known his own daughter intended to kill him for it?
Her anger at me was unmistakable. She questioned why I had severed my connection with her. I couldn’t tell her why, so I let go of her and skirted the truth, “There were things he trusted me with; things that could be dangerous if you knew. He told me to sever my connection with you tonight. It’s for your own protection.”
As I looked at their lifeless bodies, I knew he had been right. Zandra must have killed them both to try to get the arrow. Our father had sent her out for the night to ensure he transferred it to me before she got back. It was safely tucked away where no one would find it, not even Zandra.
She had killed them – the two who had given us life, taught us what it was to be a family. For what? Greed? Power? Mam’s lifeless face fixated in horror at the ceiling. Dad lay sprawled out partially covering her body. Had he tried to protect her in the final moments from her own daughter? There was so much blood. Were Mam and Dad still here watching? Or had they already left for the pasture. Zandra wasn’t talking to either of them, so either she was ignoring their spirits or they had already left.
Zandra knelt beside the two bodies, rocking back and forth, her arms wrapped around herself. Blood clung to the hem of her dress where she had knelt beside them. I looked all around the room for a bloody weapon, but didn't find it. When the Council Enforcers arrived, they would know she had done this. She would be found guilty and her life would be taken in payment for Mam and Dad. If anything, our race believed in swift justice.
She looked so scared. My first inclination had been to go to her and comfort her, but now the thought repulsed me. She had murdered them in cold blood. They had probably not seen it coming. As angry as I was with her, I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and phoned the Head Enforcer. I told him the Chairman was dead.
When the Centaur Council Enforcers arrived to investigate the murders, I refused to cooperate. I never told them I had walked in with her kneeling beside their lifeless bodies. They never found the murder weapon, and I kept to myself that I believed she had killed them to try to get the arrow. As much as I hated her for what she had done, I couldn’t bear the thought of losing Zandra, too. I kept quiet.
Maggie returned that night with her father. I shared with her what had happened; she encouraged me to tell the enforcers but understood why I remained silent. Maggie confirmed that my parents had left for the pasture. It didn't make sense that they would leave for the pasture without a good-bye. Maggie told me it may have been too hard for them to stay after their daughter murdered them. Zandra pleaded with Maggie to break our betrothal, trying to convince her that it was I who took their lives. I was sure she did this to throw the investigators off her trail, and she, too, refused to answer the investigators’ questions.
If I told the investigators what I had walked in on, it would have implicated Zandra. There was no evidence against me, really none against either of us. As the days went by, the Council Enforcers' official investigation concluded that an unknown assailant had broken into our home and killed our parents.
The Chairman chooses his successor, but, given the circumstances, the decision was left up to the heads of families from the Council. They chose Zandra as the new Chairman, but by the time they did, Zandra had left the country and sworn she would never return to Thessaly.
In my heart I was sure she had murdered our parents, but I was satisfied the prize she sought remained out of her reach. She would never hold Chiron’s arrow. Even after she left our home, she was still too much a part of me – a part of my childhood. I was sure she was guilty of the crime, but I didn’t want her to join our parents in the pasture. Once she had become the Chairman, she broke all ties with me for good. I could never bear to leave the pastures of Thessaly; it was my home.
She cleared her throat, and I was pulled back to the present. Zandra’s chestnut brown eyes were fixed on mine. The prominent wrinkles around her eyes, the permanent frown etched on her face – it wasn’t the Zandra I remembered. The brown of her eyes hadn’t changed, but the beautiful girl with blonde hair and an easy smile was long gone. This tyrant who ruled ruthlessly had taken her place so very long ago, I hardly recognized her. Had I been wrong all those years ago? Should I have let the enforcers send her to the pasture for murdering our parents?
As if she had read my thoughts, Zandra said, “I let you live because you were my brother. I have never forgiven you for killing them. When the day arrives for you to go to the pasture, you can explain yourself to them.”
What? What was she talking about? Could Zandra be innocent? If she were innocent and I had no hand in our parent’s murder, who had killed them?
I had nothing left to hide. The secret my father wanted me to keep was tied to the arrow. I had long ago given that arrow to the man who had taken care of Angela’s son. Shame began to color my memories: I’d known Zand
ra: why was I so quick to think she a murderer? I couldn’t go to my grave not knowing. Neither could she. “Zandra, I’m opening me connection to ya. If you want the truth and do no’ fear sharing your truth with me, open yours.”
She eyed me suspiciously; I could feel the strength coursing through her. Zandra had grown to be as powerful as our father had been. She didn’t need me to tell her I had opened our connection. I’m sure she sensed it. At first she made no effort to reach out to me, her head cocked to the side as if she were considering my offer to be some sort of a threat.
When she made no move to restore our connection, I challenged, “Unless ya’ have more ta hide than you’ve claimed all these years.” That did it. She reached out to me, our minds connected, and I felt the familiarity, the closeness I’d lost over forty years ago.
Describing the connection was hard, almost as if there had been a hole in my soul; a significant part of me had been dead and was suddenly resurrected in front of me. I saw Zandra searching my memories, the pain of losing the father I idolized and the mother I adored. She saw my fear that I would lose Zandra if anyone knew she had killed our parents, the utter emptiness I had lived with for decades with her gone from my life.
Conversely, I searched her thoughts and found the bitterness she harbored for me. Zandra believed I had taken Mam and Dad. The hate she had carried for me all these years galvanized her heart. She was convinced that I was the monster. I don’t know how much time passed before her voice meekly declared, “You didn’t kill them.”
I shook my head, “Neither did you.”
Chapter 8
(Camille Nash – Centurion, South Africa)
We stood outside a warehouse. It looked just like all the metal buildings peppering this neighborhood, with nothing elaborate or ornate about it. I wondered if we’d been given the wrong address. Surely this run-down building couldn’t be the headquarters for the Centaur Council. In disbelief, I asked, “Are you sure this is the right place?”
Drake looked at the crumpled slip of paper he’d been carrying. “This is the address Will gave me.”
I reached out with my mind to try to feel other Centaurs. They were close, but I wasn’t convinced this decaying warehouse in the city’s center was it. Eyeing the door, I worried that we had made this incredible journey for nothing. Had the location changed? Had they already decided our fate? My family’s future?
Drake turned the handle. The door swung open easily to a vacant warehouse. We walked inside: the ceilings were at least twenty feet high, the walls unfinished and uninsulated. Exposed metal beams ran the length of the inside, giving the impression of an aircraft hangar. The floor was cement under our feet with a glossy epoxy covering it. As we walked, our footsteps echoed in the abandoned warehouse, announcing our arrival to no one.
I looked at my watch. Where was everybody? William was clear that everyone would gather here at exactly two p.m. That was ten minutes from now, yet we hadn’t seen any parked cars outside and no evidence that anyone intended to host any kind of meeting. The relatively short time I had spent around Centaurs led me to believe this would be a lavish event – no expense spared. We had to be in the wrong place.
A door on the far end of the warehouse opened. I didn’t need to hear his voice, it had only been a day since I saw him last. “Hello, sister. I told Grandmother you wouldn’t heed my warning. It looks like the party can begin after all.”
Cameron walked confidently from the opposite side toward us. He stopped abruptly fifteen feet away, keeping his eyes fixed on Drake. As I stood watching him, I couldn’t get over how close our features were. He had the same brown eyes I saw every morning in the mirror. His nose was a little larger than mine, but exactly the same shape. His hair was the same dark coffee as mine. Knowing you have a twin is one thing, but looking at a near stranger and seeing pieces of yourself is another thing entirely.
After our visit yesterday at the resort, I expected the coolness of his voice and the calculated rhythm in his speech. Despite my efforts, I felt a smile growing on my face as I took a couple steps toward him. Drake reached out with an arm and stopped me from going further.
Cameron’s voice wasn’t surprised, “Ah, Drake. So good to see you again. It’s not often that a thief is brazen enough to show his face after he’s been given a warning. After our encounter yesterday, I expected you might try to avoid me.”
“I needed the arrow to save Cami. I told you that.”
“I remember the night well. You showed up at my door frantically searching for Camille. You believed I might be able to help you find her.”
Drake remained motionless, his feet were planted with his arm still blocking my progress toward Cameron. “I remember it well, too. You might say it’s burned in my memory.”
Cameron chuckled, “I bet you do. I didn’t know whether to chase after you into the forest, have tea with my grandmother, or break into tears like a child as my father presented himself. Having had a few weeks to think it over, I can tell you – I am in your debt.”
What was he talking about? Cameron was somehow happy with Drake all of the sudden?
“Had you not found me, I would still be locked away in that freezer of a prison where my mother had so carefully stashed me away.”
Drake asked, “I notice you are absent your enforcer escort today. I hope that means you’re willing to listen to us.”
“All that comes from either of you are lies. What would you like to share with me today?”
Drake shook his head, “You’ve spent some time with Zandra and Angelo. We wish we could have broken you out of their grasp, but I couldn’t take the chance of either of them getting Cami again.”
“Broken me out? Are you forgetting? They are my family.”
My heart sank further in my chest. Poor Cameron. I wanted to run to him and tell him they are both crazies, so stay as far away from them as possible. Instead I offered a simple truth, “No. They are blood, but Mom ran away and spent her whole life keeping us away from them.”
Cameron made some sort of disgusted noise. “So I’ve heard. You are aware that she gave me up?” Cameron studied me, as if deciding what he needed to say next. His voice was full of malice when he continued, “Not you, though. She raised you herself and passed me off to Roger – a human. It must be nice to be the favorite.”
Defensively I answered, “I asked her why after she died. She didn’t think she could protect all three of us.”
“And she didn’t even try, did she? No, she got her Centauride daughter. You are who she wanted. It was like an heir and a spare. I can almost hear her now, ‘Well, let’s just hide him away where no one will ever find him.’ You have no idea what it’s like growing up with no one. Not a single person who . . . cares.”
His words sliced into me. “I don’t know why she made the decisions she did. I wish she were still around so we could ask her. But I know Mom. She never would have left you with just anyone – she trusted Roger.” I loved Mom. I wish I understood the choices she made, and I hoped Cameron was wrong, but I had no idea what her connection to Roger was. I, too, wondered how she could have dropped Cameron off and never looked back. The woman I thought I knew could never have done that.
“Roger was fine, but in twenty-three years she never called to check on me. She never wrote a letter. She never even picked up a phone. I know how important I was to our mother, less important than a broken car left in the yard to rust.”
“You don’t have the full story. You only have the story full of half-truths fabricated by Zandra.”
“No, I have a grandmother and an uncle who searched for me as soon as they learned I was alive – who want me. The fact that I shared nine months with you in a womb doesn’t make us anything more than past roommates.”
He couldn’t feel that way. It would break my heart if he seriously believed that. “Cameron, you have to give us a chance. Don’t believe the hate and lies they’ve tried to shove down you."
“What you don’t unde
rstand, what you’re too wrapped up into yourself to fathom: I’m taking my rightful place in this family. I will follow in Grandma's footsteps. I have no loyalty to you, but as your twin I will give you one word of warning. Hide. Go to the farthest corner of the earth, find a hole and hide. Eventually we’ll find you, but now will be your only chance to sneak away, just like your mother did.”
Cameron turned around without another word. His steps were brisk as he walked back to the same door he emerged from on the opposite end of the warehouse. His footsteps echoed loudly on the concrete. After he walked through the door, I could feel the others outside. Centaurs were approaching, too many to try to count. I squeezed Drake’s hand as we stood waiting for what would come next. He felt everything I did, so he didn’t need my warning, but the words came out anyway, “This is it. They’re all coming.”
Drake’s hand gave mine a gentle squeeze while his other hand gently stroked my forearm. “Relax. We’re doing the right thing. They’ll listen.”
His words were sincere but did nothing to calm my nerves. I stood up straight, my back arched as my eyes remained fixed on the door Cameron had just exited. Centaurs were all around us, hundreds converging on the outside of the building. The fine hair on my arms stood on end as the anticipation for what was about to happen became unbearable. I tried to sift through the thoughts of the Centaurs just outside the warehouse, hoping to hear familiar voices or some sort of support for my family and me.
I was disheartened when the random thoughts I picked up on were clearly about us, without an ounce of support for our plight. “Her death will save us from Zeus’ wrath. . . an abomination. . . she’ll try to trick us. . . the enforcers are ready to kill them all. . . traitors have been in custody for weeks. . . “ All the thoughts bombarded me. This was a mistake. No one would hear us out.
Centaur Redemption (Touched Series) Page 8