Caim

by T. S. Simons

  'Thank you. That means everything.'

  I found a dead log and sat while Illy composed herself. Pushing her hair out of her face and still looking green, she propped next to me.

  'I can't believe it might be true,' she said, shellshocked. 'After all these years, why now?'

  'Do you remember I once told you that you fall pregnant at the worst time possible? Well, that was Katrin. Different circumstances, I admit, but Cam and I had desperately wanted a child. Then he married Laetitia and had a child, with another on the way. One stupid night, entirely my fault, and I fall pregnant. Then another year of trying before Xanthe came along. But what I can never lose, and what I can never tell Cam, is the isolation of that time. This was something I had wanted for years, a child of my own, with him. Then, when it happened, the timing could not have been worse. I was alone and hated. Everyone watching and staring. Sorcha openly blamed me, and rightfully so. Di was kind, but her loyalties weren't with me. I remember all those nights, lying in bed, feeling so hollow, despite the life growing inside me. Regretting everything. Cam didn't speak to me. Barely looked at me, even after she was born. He loved her. I could see that every time he interacted with her. But he was arctic around me. The woman he had once loved but loved no longer.'

  Illy dropped her head onto my shoulder as she stared out to sea.

  'Did you know that not one person touched my stomach whilst I was pregnant with Katrin?' I confessed, engulfed with the misery of that time. 'Not until I was in labour, and even then, it was clinical. It was, without doubt, the loneliest time of my life.'

  Colour returned to Illy's cheeks as she rested against me. 'You know that wasn't true. He always loved you. He processes his emotions so deeply and for such a long period. He loved Laetitia. One day she is there. The next, she is gone. That must have destroyed him, especially as it was the second time someone he loved had been taken away without warning. He told me he thought he was cursed, that no one would ever want him with his track record. He was fearful of ever having another relationship.'

  'He said that?'

  'He did. If you hadn't gone after him, you likely would never have found your way back to each other. He would never have recovered. He knows that too. He was trapped and couldn't find a way out.'

  'Something you said or did when he came to Orkney must have had an impact. He was a lot more ready than when he left August.'

  'Oh, I did nothing. It was all you. So how did you do it?' she asked, a cheeky look crossing her pale, sickly face. 'You never told me.'

  'I found him in Edinburgh, in the Office of Births, Deaths, and Marriages. He was researching Laetitia's family tree. He was asleep as I entered. He didn't want me there. He told me to leave him, to let him wallow in his self-pity. But I asked him, please give me just a few days. We had loved each other once. He tried to tell me how different he was, after being with her. He had changed. But I persisted. Just a few days. If he didn't want me there after that, I would go. I pushed it, and he relented. But… it only took one.'

  'One day?' she asked, a little sceptical.

  'Less, actually. He asked me to tell him what I had done in the years of our separation. Then we went for a walk. He told me about Lae's family background and the children who had died on Lewis when the dome was installed. Angus' part in it. What he told me made me physically sick, and I couldn't breathe. I could picture it with immense detail. People banging on the dome, begging for them to save their children. Their babies crying in their arms. It kept making me think of little Kat. She was only a few months old when I left her to go after him. But I knew I had one shot at it. We were away from the prying eyes of his sister and the village. If I couldn't turn things around away from Lewis, I knew I couldn't stay there. I never told him, but I knew that was my single opportunity. If we hadn't found our way back to each other, I would have left for good.'

  'Where would you have gone?'

  'Clava, most likely. I thought it was safe there. I would have had support for Kat and found meaningful work. Or rejoined Angus and Luca. They would have looked out for Kat and me.'

  'Wow, well, I am glad you didn't do that for both of our sakes. But back to Cam. How did you do it?'

  'You know, I didn't. He saw me struggling, emotionally, with the news of those people who died. I was drowning in the images of faces torturing me, and he kissed me. It was so familiar. Being with him just felt so right. It was a toe-curling, knee-yielding kiss.' I had watched Illy and Luca kiss many times. 'You know what I mean.'

  'I do.'

  'The next thing you know, we are naked, under a tree in a park in the centre of Edinburgh.'

  Illy grinned through the waves of nausea. 'A rather public reunion.'

  'It isn't public when everyone is dead. We rarely left each other's side after that. Well, apart from the time we were held captive, and I got these. I held my marked arms out, now with fresh scars. We made a vow. We would never leave each other. Eight years, and we have kept that promise. Until now.'

  'Do you want to go home and care for him?'

  'No. Louis is my child too. I mean, I didn't carry him, but I promised Laetitia I would care for him. And I will. I would do this for Kat, Xanthe or Thorsten. I do this for Louis. Sorcha will look after Cam. She won't let him go.'

  'You promised… Laetitia?' she asked delicately.

  'Not in real life. She and I never spoke. But after I reunited with Cam, I could feel her presence. Lingering. Not malevolently, but just there. In our new home, the one she never lived in.'

  'Did you tell Cam?'

  'Of course not! How do I say, "Your dead wife is haunting me", without him thinking I was mentally unstable? It was new and wonderful, and I couldn't bring myself to tell him. I kept telling myself it was stupid. She was dead. I knew that better than anyone. But I kept feeling her when I was alone. Watching me. Judging.'

  'What did you do?'

  'One day, after everyone had gone to school and work, I rode out to the broch, to where she was taken. I sat on the cliff edge and called her spirit. I felt her there, and I made her a promise. That I would care for him, for both of them, I told her I loved Cam and Louis. I would never speak ill of her, and I would ensure that Louis never forgot her. I swore I would always let Cam cherish his memories of them together. There was room in his life for us both. And I promised I would treat Louis the same as Katrin, with love and kindness.'

  'Wow. Did it work?'

  'It did. Almost immediately, I felt the surrounding air lighten. Change from one of judgement to one of acceptance. You know how you walk into a room, and you can just feel people judging you? They don't need to say anything. You just sense it. That was how I felt before I spoke to her.'

  'And after?'

  I paused, trying to think of the right word. 'I guess at peace is the best way to describe it. Before, it was like the air was thick, but it dissipated. I felt lighter. Occasionally I still sense her around, but the feel is different. Cam told me she was always fearful that he would leave her for me. But he was never unfaithful to her. She saved him when he was floundering after he lost me. Then I returned the favour. Twice now, I have invoked her help with Louis. When he was unconscious with the head wound, and as we left to find him this time.'

  Illy turned to look at me. 'That is the most amazing thing I have heard in a long time. Many people would be jealous.'

  'I am insanely jealous of her. She had his first child and would have had his second. He loved her when I was an empty hollow shell. But ultimately, she gave me Louis and Cam. I owe her my gratitude. She cared for them both. Now I have taken over that role.'

  'You are an amazing woman, Frey.'

  'Hardly. But one thing now makes sense. I assumed you were collateral damage or that they wanted to bleed me dry before starting on you. Now it seems likely that they knew. All the whispers and note-taking. The blood tests, fewer injections. They knew.'

  'I'm so sorry, Frey, for what they did to you. It is unspeak
ably evil to do that to any woman.'

  I shrugged. What was there to say? They had harvested my eggs for a purpose. We knew what that purpose likely was. I didn't want to verbalise the obvious questions; What would they have done with Illy's baby? What will they do with my children?

  The darkness crossing Illy's face warned me she had gone there.

  'Can I ask one thing?' I asked softly, drawing her attention away from the abyss. 'Did you get to say goodbye that morning? To Luca?'

  Illy's eyes filled with tears as she smiled. 'It was a beautiful goodbye. I was in the kitchen making breakfast for the girls. He came out of the shower, his hair still damp and smelling of Jacinda's chamomile shampoo. He kissed the girls, and me, and asked what we were having for dinner. I teased him, telling him we were having fish and salad. He said, "Excellent! My favourite!" I handed him his coffee and toast to take with him. Then he hugged us all and told us he loved us. Then he left.'

  Luca detested fish, which Illy found hilarious, her father being a fisherman. Luca also refused to eat any form of salad, insisting it was rabbit food.

  'I'm so glad. One of my biggest regrets was that I never got to say goodbye to Cam. Tell him how much I loved him. He was on the early shift and had gone before I woke. I went to work, avoiding him as I didn't want him to realise I wasn't pregnant. Then… it was years before I saw him again, and when I did, he was no longer my husband. When Cam lost Laetitia, they fought that last morning, on her birthday. It ate him up for the longest time. That was the part he struggled with, couldn't move on from. I'm so glad your last interaction was peaceful.'

  'That is always the risk, isn't it? When you say goodbye, you never know if it is the last time.'

  As I stared out to sea, I saw my sister's face, sad when I had gone to a weekend party that she hadn't been invited to. She hadn't wanted me to go, but I had gone anyway, telling her it was just two nights. I would be back on Sunday, and we could hang out the following weekend. Then she overdosed, and I never got to say goodbye, not to her. I said goodbye to her shell… twice. Before I left Melbourne and again on Auckland. My mother, I said goodbye to in person, but my father hadn't even come home to see me off. It was strange to realise that after all these years, I still resented that.

  'I should have waited until Cam made it out of surgery and said goodbye!' I gasped, struck by the finality of it. 'What if one of us doesn't make it?'

  'Not… an… option,' Illy said through gritted teeth, the green tinge returning. 'There has been enough death. I will not allow anything to happen to you. Come on. Sitting here isn't finding Louis, nor getting you back to Cam. Let's go.'

  'Wait. We need to check if he has a warning system,' Illy said as we approached the dome, far smaller than most domed communities, only the size of a medium-sized farm. But a geodesic dome, regardless.

  'You didn't know Angus well, did you?'

  Illy tilted her head at me.

  'Angus is a Luddite. Didn't you wonder why his house in Edinburgh was filled with books? The man had no tech skill. He could barely start the engine on the Selkie.'

  'Actually, that explains quite a few things.'

  'When Luca overheard Angus on the radio, I was surprised. Angus kept Nate on, because Nate was the tech-savvy one. Nowhere near as good as Tadhg, but good enough. In the years we travelled on the Selkie, Angus never learned to pilot it. It caused a bit of conflict, with everyone else sharing the load. Initially, he insisted that his time was better spent elsewhere. What we realised, over time, was that all the controls and flashing lights freaked him out. But I was desperate to get back to Cam, so didn't kick up a fuss.'

  'Do you think Nate would have set up security systems here then?'

  'I doubt it. Angus wouldn't know what to do, anyway. He always considered himself intellectually superior. He likely believes we won't find him. It has been months.'

  Finding an access panel took some time, as they always did. Angus had cleverly concealed this one amidst a thicket of trees, living on the inside and dead on the outside. But there was no evidence of wiring, sensor panels, or anything else that could indicate an alarm.

  'Not smart enough,' I muttered, sliding the panel back. Turning to Illy, I asked, 'Should we wait until dark?' I looked up to the midday sky, judging. We wouldn't need to wait long.

  'No need. There is one of him and two of us, and we have a firearm too. Besides, I have come a very long way, I am horribly nauseous, and I don't feel like waiting.'

  As we rounded the corner in the rutted, pot-holed road, I smiled at the blissful picture of Louis and Xanthe playing in the distance. Louis was making a swing from some rope and a flat board tied to a tree and showing her how it moved. My heart stopped momentarily as I realised it wasn't Xanthe. She was safe on Lewis. This wasn't Scarlett or Ruby either. But bloody hell, this little blonde girl so much looked like them. I must have gasped as Illy lay a warning hand on my arm and brought a finger to her lips.

  Ignoring the children, we crept around the back and entered the house via an open door. A beautiful classic manor house. Old money. Marble floors and a vast atrium greeted us, skylights illuminating the beautiful space. Expensive oil paintings hung up the ornately carved staircase encased in gilded frames. Muffled clattering led us to Angus in the kitchen. The picture of a domestic father, looking relaxed as he stirred a cast-iron pot on the black cooktop, a biogas unit visible through the window. My eyes narrowed. How dare he assume that role. Illy cocked the pistol, and he jerked, dropping the spoon. Tomato spattered across the white-tiled floor.

  He smiled at me as he turned off the hob.

  'Freyja. Illyria. Nice to see you.'

  'You had to know I wouldn't give up,' I growled. 'You kidnapped my son.'

  Angus looked at me, clearly bemused. 'I didn't think you would care. After all, he isn't your son. But he is my nephew. Well, great-nephew technically. He is no relation of yours. I remember you being rather angry, learning about his birth if I recall correctly.'

  I had been Louis' mother since he was two. He had asked me to be his mother at my second wedding. 'He is my son!' I roared, making him recoil in shock.

  Hearing raised voices, the children rushed into the kitchen. Louis flew at me and clutched my leg.

  'Mumma!'

  A split-second glance at Illy showed that she had concealed the weapon and had the situation under control. I crouched down and hugged him for as long as I dared, then pulled him back and looked into his eyes.

  'I'm here now, sweetheart, and we will take you home very soon. But first, I need to know, did he hurt you?'

  'I was so scared,' he cried, working himself into a frenzy. 'He killed daddy and Luca. Then he made me walk such a long way in the night-time. He made me walk and hit me with sticks if I stopped.'

  The red beast rose as I envisaged my child being mistreated, beaten with sticks.

  'Did he do anything else to you?' I asked, not even trying to suppress the suspicion.

  'No, mum. But he killed…'

  'I'm not a pervert,' Angus shot at me from across the room. Illy appeared relaxed, standing beside him. She had the gun pressed to his side now, concealed under her jacket. I wasn't sure how long she could contain herself, her pale face sickly, sweat beading on her brow.

  'You beat him?' I turned on Angus.

  'We needed to hurry. We were outside the dome, and it rains an awful lot here. It was for his benefit, too. I haven't touched you since we arrived. Have I?' Angus directed this last question at Louis.

  Stepping between them, crouching down to look Louis in the eye, I ignored the question.

  'Darling, take… your friend and go and play outside, please,' I told him firmly. 'We will leave soon. Illy and I just need to talk to Angus first.'

  Watching Louis take the little girl's hand and lead her outside plucked at my heart. She looked so much like Xanthe. Darker eyes, though. Goodness, she looked like a smaller version of Ruby and Scarlett, making it crystal clear wh
o she was.

  'Sit,' I ordered, and Illy marched him over to a dining chair, Luca's revolver now openly held to his temple. Angus was a small man. There was no real threat of him overpowering us. But we tied him up for good measure.

  'The girl? Who is she?'

  'Ceridwen.'

  'Ceridwen?'

  'She is the Celtic goddess of fertility.'

  Illy's eyes spring wide. 'You wouldn't?'

  'Wouldn't what?' Angus and I chorused.

  'You planned to breed them?' Illy screeched, her voice unrecognisable. 'They are children, you monster!'

  'Well, not anytime soon,' he simpered. 'But when they are older, yes. It makes perfect sense.

  They are both of my bloodline and…'

  'I'm sorry, what did you say?'

  'The girl, she is mine. Louis is a distant relative, to be sure. But I am Ceridwen's father.'

  My stomach lurched. 'You mean you fathered a child with my sister?'

  'Not just Ceridwen, all of them,' he announced proudly. 'There are two other girls. I believe you have met them. Louis told me all about them.'

  I sat down on one of the other chairs without meaning to, the fury gone out of me in a puff of wind. 'Why?' I mouthed.

  'Because you wouldn't. You and I were partnered, Freyja. You were my chosen match. We were highly compatible. I tried to get you to see that we would be an excellent pairing, but you refused to see it. I wanted to help you raise your daughter. I would have been a good father, and in time we could have had more children. We would have lived happily. Here or anywhere else you chose. I would have been good to you. But you chose to mope over that lump of a gardener rather than see the far better options in front of you. So, I took the backup plan.'

  There was a heavy bronze statue of a Greek deity on the lamp table beside me, and I hurled it at his head. It struck just above his eye, and he roared in pain, clutching his face. Illy didn't flinch.