The Bargaining Path

by T. Rudacille

  ***

 

  “Get up!” My head jerked backwards as two rough hands pulled me to my feet.

  “BRYNN! BRYNNA!” Penny was screaming, and before my eyes had even fully opened, I was swinging my arms back to hit the person standing behind me. My legs carried me towards her voice, and I opened my eyes just as my arms scooped her up.

  “Brynna! Baby, run! RUN NOW!” James ordered, as two of Rich’s comrades forced him down onto his knees.

  “Brynna, go. Take her and go.” Adam sounded calm as always, but in his mind, I saw his panic briefly. It sounded as though he were only gently suggesting that I start running away, but inside, he was demanding that I run.

  I loved James, and I cared so deeply for Adam. But Penny was my little girl, and these men had come against Tyre’s order, and they had come to rid their new village of the three most dangerous potential influences. They would kill us. The foresight blinded my actual sight, and I saw the three of us lined up, on our knees, waiting for the shot that would end it. But it was the three of us. Penny was not there, though her outline was slowly becoming visible. If I wanted the vision in which she was not there to come true, I needed to move…

  And I did. Never before had I ever run so fast. Three of the newly minted Old Spirits (and “by newly minted,” I mean that they were from Earth) were chasing after me, but they could not keep up; their powers were not evolved, so even at their most breath-stealing speed, they could not even come close to me.

  The Pangaeans, on the other hand, came after me at a breakneck speed, as they say. My body was aching and crying out for me to stop even though the adrenaline rush that would normally erase such nagging needs of my body had taken hold of me. I had not eaten, so I had lost most of my muscle and a significant portion of whatever was left to lose after that. I was dehydrated; even after I had bolted up three flights of stairs, through three corridors of cells, and finally reached the ground floor, I could not sweat. My mind was swimming. My head was pounding. My eyes were beginning to go blurry. I could not possibly fight. I simply had to evade, to keep running.

  “Penny, close your eyes, sweetheart.”

  Through the shuttered windows, I could see the Pangaean sunlight shining. While it normally did not hurt my eyes to see it, and while seeing it did remind me of the ache in my heart that I had felt for weeks to be bathed in it, I had to squeeze my eyes shut, too, when I threw open the back door of the jailhouse. I stumbled backwards several steps into the wall, gasping and nearly dropping Penny when my hands flew to my eyes out of reflex.

  “It hurts, Mama!”

  “I know.” I said, “I know, baby. Come on, Brynna…” I murmured, “Come on. Come on. Adapt.”

  My eyes had been watering terribly, but I did not notice until they abruptly stopped. Slowly, cautiously, I peeled my eyes open to find that the sun no longer burned. The men chasing me had reached the ground level floor, but had assumed that I would be foolish enough to go for the front door, which, I realized as I looked into the room where they were all standing, had been locked from the outside. Had they really not expected me to find an alternative exit? Before they could expect and subsequently realize that I had found an alternative exit, I was running out into the daylight.

  I was facing my old village for the first time under the Old Spirit rule, and the Old Spirit rule had not been kind to it at all.

  The elaborately decorated stands selling merchandise they deemed morally reprehensible—tonics for “enhancement” of romantic trysts, Peace Fruit, alcohol, and even the seamstresses’ shop—had been burnt. All that stood in their place was black soot and a few charred pieces of wood. Four men and one woman hung in the town center, though I had no idea who they were. When I squinted, I could see signs around their necks: Rapist, Rapist, Blaspheme, Whore, Traitor. The bags over their heads prevented me from seeing their faces, so I could not determine whether they were mine or theirs, but the tugging in my heart and the churning of my stomach told me they were five of mine. Before my legs took me to them, I turned away. I began running through the backyards in the first street of homes, shocked to see the items that had been burnt in the backyard; they were mostly clothes and books, all of which I assumed were too provocative to be in the hands of the Old Spirits.

  I ran until my legs collapsed from under me and I landed, splayed out on my front in the grass. Luckily, midway through my run, I had put Penny on my back, so she didn’t get hurt when I fell forward onto the hard ground.

  “Come on, Mom. Come on, we have to keep going! We have to keep going, Mama!” She urged me in a desperate whisper. She hopped off of my back and grasped my arm.

  “I can’t, baby.” I said, and my voice broke, “I can’t run anymore. But I have to get you to the trail, so you can get to the bunker.”

  “I know. We can do it, Mommy. I promise. Come on. Stand up. Stand up. Come on!” Her tiny hands wrapped around mine and pulled. When that yielded no effect, she moved behind me, grasped my shoulders and pulled up until I was on my knees.

  “Come on. Daddy’s coming, Mommy. He and Adam are fighting! They’re fighting to get to us! I know you’re tired, so you can’t see it. But I can!” She assured me so joyfully, I could not help but believe her. I could not deny knowing that she had the same gift of knowing that I possessed.

  “They’re coming, and if we just keep going, the mean people will never be able to shoot you! I won’t let them, Mama, I promise. I promise.” She moved around in front of me and kneeled down, the way I had always done to her when she was upset. The tears were streaming down my cheeks for so many reasons—I was afraid for James and Adam, I was afraid for Penny and me, I was afraid for Violet, Quinn, Nick, Alice, Elijah, Don, Savannah, Ellie, Oliver, Rachel, Joe, Tony, Tom… I was afraid because Penny had the Sight; she was an Athene like me, and for that, she would always be a threat. She would always be coveted, or she would always be hunted… Men and women alike would want to use her until there was nothing left, to own her so no other could have her immense power.

  But I was not crying only for the scary things or the sad things. I was crying because as I looked at her, into her deep blue eyes that matched my own, I saw such fire, such spunk, such spite… And of course, I saw that great love with which she had always looked at me, since the day she was born, before I had even known that she was going to be my little girl forever. There was such protectiveness, too; it was feral, deadly… She was unafraid of hurting anyone to protect James and me. I was afraid of that, because I did not want my sweet little girl to have to take a life, but she was evolved like the rest of us, and her instincts told her to kill if it meant her family would be protected.

  “I am going to keep you safe, Mama.” She whispered, and both of her hands came up to rest on my face so her thumbs could wipe my tears away. “I promise. Now come on.”

  She pulled me up, and her little hands steadied me when I wobbled on my feet. We could not run, but we walked quickly, her hand holding mine, pulling me along. By the time we reached the first ash-path, it was midday, and we had not run into one living soul. All the while, I could feel them searching, but they were not back in the region where Penny and I were. Somehow, they had not picked up our trail.

  You confused them. My mind told me, You were desperate, and you sent out the only thing you could think of, and you didn’t even realize you had thought of it. Your power is endless. It works even when you’re not looking. It does even what you think it can’t.

  I understood that my mind was right about all of that, but what it said next chilled me.

  You just didn’t confuse one of them.

  “Brynna.”

  I jumped and whipped around, gripping Penny’s hand tighter. The sudden outpouring of adrenaline into my body clouded my vision with a black fog at the corners and made my head feel as though it were tilting sideways against my will, like someone had smacked their open palms into both of my ears to disorient me completely.

  “Stay away from u
s!” I hissed, and my fangs were out.

  “Brynna… sweetheart…”

  Daniel Olivier had not called me “sweetheart” since I was eight years old. With great force, I threw my mind’s gaze into his head, looking for his plan of sabotage; he would try to break me down by appealing to my softness, to whatever parts of me needed his paternal affection, but only long enough for the others hunting me to get within shouting distance. Then he would call out to them. But in his mind, I saw nothing but apologetic words, and in his heart, right behind his mind, as always, I saw nothing but the deepest, most sincere desire to apologize. My response was slightly less… rational than I wanted it to be.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Mama!” Penny exclaimed, and she frowned up at me.

  “I’m sorry, baby.” I whispered.

  “You’re right, Penny. You’re so right. Did she start calling you that on her own? You’re so smart, baby, and you’re right: she is your mama. She’s been your mama since you were born. Since before you were born. God, without you…” His eyes rose from Penny to look at me, “She would have died in the womb; your mama would have drunk her to death. Or she would have had some defect… but probably not. She probably would have just died. She would’ve…” His face contorted, and in defense, I took a step back; my defenses had not rose because I thought he would begin to yell or that he would reach out to hurt me, but because the shock I felt at watching him begin to get emotional jarred me. It left me reeling long after his tears began to fall.

  “She would’ve… She would’ve drowned in there, Brynnie.”

  He had not called me “Brynnie” since I was eight, either.

  “A reference to Luc. Got it. If you are not going to turn us in, then…”

  “No. It wasn’t. God, maybe it was, but I didn’t mean it to be. I watched what almost happened to you. I know what happened to you here. With… with Adam. What they wanted him to do. What you did in response. Rich wants to kill you for that. And for what you did to Mary. Tyre doesn’t want any of you dead, but Rich is going to do it anyway. I can’t do anything. I have nothing anymore. No power. No nothing! And they took… and they took…” His tears grew more hysterical, “They took your mama, Brynnie! They took her away from me!”

  The weakness was returning, aided by the sudden shock. The fear that it was true. The… hope? I could not be sure if it was hope. Perhaps it was annoyance at having to ask myself the question all over again, if she was alive or not.

  “My mother is dead, Daniel.” I said, slowly and carefully in condescension, so he did not think for a second that I believed his lies.

  It was quiet all around us, but the sound in my ears deafening; it was that banging on the door from so many years earlier.

  “She’s not.” He took a step towards me, and before I had even realized that he had moved, my mind became aware of a fire poker set against the wicker table beside me, and my hand had grabbed it and held it out.

  That banging was getting louder, and now, I could hear him calling out her name.

  “Do not come near us!” Penny barked, and I knew her fangs were out, too.

  I could hear him banging, and this time, he was ordering me to open the door…

  “She’s not dead, Brynna. But Tyre took her. Tyre took her away from me. He put John on the ship, and your mama wouldn’t… wouldn’t stop crying for him. She wouldn’t… stop… screaming!” He said, and his sobs intensified, “I tried to tell her that I was hers first, but she just wanted John. All she ever wanted was John. And you. When he was still with her, she’d just cry for you. ‘Brynna… Brynna… I want my Brynna…’ And I was still so angry at you then so it made me angry at her, and I took her ring away… and then… and then… she wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t talk to me or to him. She’d let him hold her, but she wouldn’t let me anywhere near her. She’d scream, or she’d… bite me… or scratch me… I didn’t think she’d be so devastated, to have the ring John got her taken away. But she was always holding it, looking at your name. She was always crying for you and fighting me. I had to make her stop. I had to make her obey, or Tyre would kill her. But I couldn’t do it. So Tyre took her away. And I’ve heard… I’ve heard what he’s done. I begged him. I begged him for her back. But he says I lost my right to her. When Tyre took her away, she was crying for you. ‘I never got to tell her I’m sorry. I never got to tell her it wasn’t her fault.’ ‘I just want to tell her I’m sorry.’ ‘I just want to tell her I’m sorry.’ ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ Those were the last words she said to me, and she didn’t even say them to me. I don’t know who she was talking to. I never told her, but I swore after they took her away I would tell you. She was sorry. She was sorry… and…”

  There was blood all over my hands that night in the bathroom, and Rachel was saying, “Everything’s going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay, everything’s going to be okay,” as I told her that I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to bleed to death, asking why it wouldn’t stop, why it was happening, all the while holding her hand that was holding a bath towel between my legs…

  I looked down at Penny, and she looked up at me.

  “And… and…”

  She turned away. That banging on the door… It wouldn’t stop.

  “I’m sorr—”

  The rage had been brewing, but my internal temperature spiked, and that rage exploded forcefully outwards in a violent, sudden eruption; my body found some hidden storage of strength, the potency of which I never could have imagined. My arms pulled back, and I slammed that fire poker across his face. When he crumpled to the ground, bleeding out of the side of his mouth and through a hole cut clean through his cheek, I remembered the busted lips, the broken jaw, the scars from my jawbone down one side of my neck from where he had smashed a glass into me when he was particularly blackout-drunk one night. After I had thrown myself on top of him and punched him twice—once with both fists, in rapid succession—I saw that his nose had shattered and blood was pouring down his face, and I remembered how long it had taken me to learn how to stop a heavy nosebleed, how many bloodied tissues I had thrown away…

  By the time I remembered the angry red marks from his belt, or the time he had choked me for telling him that Lucien was gone and it was time he got over it, or the night he had given me a concussion by first throwing me to the ground and then slamming my head into the floor because I had noted out loud his fetish for drunken, middle-aged whores and disease-infested, vapid girls my age, or the nights he had come to my apartment, stinking drunk… wanting… wanting… wanting…

  Wanting what his beloved friend had had.

  I was screaming at him, spitting at him, cursing him, wailing, punching, clawing, shaking all over, sobbing, sobbing, sobbing, screaming for all those times I had not allowed myself to while he was beating me or worse…

  Penny was singing softly, calmly, a song we had always sung together when we were working together in the kitchen, skinning and cleaning hunted animals.

  “Holy water cannot help you now…”

  “FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!”

  “Thousand armies couldn’t keep me out…”

  “SON OF A BITCH!”

  “I don’t want your money / I don’t want your crown…”

  “FUCKING BASTARD!”

  “See I’ve come to burn your kingdom down…”

  “SICK FUCKING BASTARD!”

  “Holy water cannot help you now…”

  “MOTHERFUCKER!”

  “See I’ve come to burn your kingdom down…”

  “YOU SICK MOTHERFUCKER!”

  “And no rivers and no lakes can put that fire out…”

  “FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!”

  “I’m gonna raise the stakes / I’m gonna smoke you out…”

  His face was beaten-in, turned to pulp, and still has hands were wrapped around my upper arms, trying to claw their way to my throat. I screeched at the sky with every
bit of that rage, hearing the sound echoing against the houses, through the streets, through the trees all around me. Then, I slammed my head down and ripped into his neck, pulling back so that his severed artery sprayed me, warming me from the chill of the winter day. I threw myself down again and bit deeper into his skin, clawing at him wherever I could find bare skin as my teeth sunk further and further into his neck.

  “Brynna…” My head jerked up. Blood dribbled down my chin, dripped over my eyes, all down my face, down my entire body. I was positively saturated in it. My breaths were heavy, coming in and out in shallow, quick bursts.

  “Come now.”

  My heightened senses told me James was behind me, holding Penny, keeping her turned away from the carnage.

  Slowly, to show me he meant me no harm, Adam moved down onto his knees and crawled the rest of the way to me. Still, he kept a good distance between us.

  “Come now. Come now, darling.” He said gently, and I saw the fear in his eyes. My eyes broke from his, because somewhere in my mind I could not stand to think that I had made him or James or Penny afraid of me. But once my eyes had broken from his, they fell on my father’s mutilated corpse, and that rage began to fill me again.

  “No, no!” Adam said, and he reached out to me. But when I began to pummel my father’s face with my bloody, swollen, already bruising knuckles, he moved back, and I watched him out of my upper peripheral vision watching me. When I stopped, still breathing heavily, he finally chanced it; he reached out and pushed my blood-soaked hair back from my face.

  “Alright now, my darling…” He whispered soothingly as his hands wiped the blood away from my eyes. “Alright. It is done. It is over.”

  I nodded, and my face broke into a grin. I snorted through my nose and began to laugh. I laughed hysterically, out loud, covering my mouth with one hand and holding my stomach with the other. I laughed until tears poured from my eyes, and then I began to cry. I sobbed so hard that my head hurt and my stomach turned over. I covered my face and shook my head, crying until the force of those sobs pushed the few drops of liquid still in my stomach out. A terrible retching noise shut off my sobs, and I half-vomited, half-dry-heaved into the dirt. After it was done, Adam pulled me to him and wiped my mouth with the hand he had not already dirtied by wiping my blood. He held my head to his chest and let me cry and laugh against him. His arms stayed locked around me, and his lips pressed to my forehead every few seconds in a gentle reassurance that he was there, and he understood.

  “Stay here, baby. Stay here.” James told Penny.

  He came to me, and I pulled his arms around me and began to laugh again: they hated each other, but there they were, banding together for my sake. How very silly. How very touching. It had seemed impossible before. I did not care how they would take it: I raised my head and kissed James, hard and passionate, and then, I turned and kissed Adam, just as hard, just as passionately.

  My tears stopped abruptly. My laughter stopped, but my smile faded only slightly. I felt gloriously tipsy.

  “What are we waiting for?” I asked, and I stood up, walked over to Penny, and grasped her hand. She smiled up at me. “Aren’t we supposed to be escaping?”

  “You’re so messy!” Penny exclaimed, holding my hand in both of hers.

  “I know! Come on, boys! They are in pursuit of us!”