by Kade Cook
“That is ice,” he whispers to himself but the words slip off his lips loud enough that Rachael hears them.
“Took you long enough.” She huffs at him, giving him a knuckle rap against his tucked bicep.
Ethan rolls his eyes at her cattiness but doesn’t release his stare on the girl at the table. “What the...” his voice trails off.
“That is what I said,” Rachael adds, sliding in beside Ethan, behind the door as the two stand silent to take in the oddity.
“When did this happen? I mean how long has she been sitting there like that?”
“It happened just before you got my call.”
“How long has this been going on?” Ethan recalls the last couple of interactions with Gabrian—the lack of vigor in her words, the dark circles under her eyes—and wonders if she has not been dealing with uncertain things for some time now.
“From her frustrated reaction and the obvious shock that she is in, I would guess since, um, now.”
Ethan nudges Rachael’s tiny form to the side and cracks open the barrier between Gabrian and himself, slowly idling toward her with Rachael tiptoeing in his shadow behind him. Gabrian looks over her shoulder and watches them approach her, but she shares little expression on her face. Her eyes glaze over with the only sign of emotion that she can muster right now as a small droplet of understanding surfaces and curtsies its way down her cheek.
“I think that I am a ‘Grey,’” she expels in a ragged breath.
Ethan’s brow furrows at her statement as he tries to understand her meaning. She pushes the replay of images into his mind of the conversation they once had back when they first met and he had helped her understand what she was and how her Borrower gifts worked. The discussion about whether or not a being could have more than one gift or a ‘Grey’—a being that was not of a definite Fellowship but somewhere in between. He grins in his immediate enlightenment and pats the top of her head with familiar kindness, then curbs around the side of the table, pulling out a chair that isn’t damp from the melting ice, and rests his old Borrower bones.
Maybe so, he breathes out in silent understanding. You okay kiddo?
Yes, I am fine. Just a bit out of sorts is all. I never once thought of the possibility of me having another gift. I was getting comfortable with all madness and trying to get a handle on my life again... and now this?
I know and I am sorry that you had to find out the way you did but don’t worry. We will figure this all out. Okay?
Okay. She sighs, letting out some of the anxiety she had bottled up inside.
Rachael watches the two of them conversing in their silent private language that she is not privy to and searches their faces in a tennis-match, looking for a sign of something she can understand as well. Not finding anything, she becomes highly annoyed and lets the duo know about it. “All right you two, enough of the invite only crap! Can someone please tell me what is going on?”
Ethan’s lips pucker at the side in a boyish grin. Once Rachael is let in on the fact that her best friend is one of the unique members of the Realm that has the capacity to embody two gifts, she makes the appropriate connection, with Ethan’s assistance, to Ashen—the Elder of Isa, the Ice Fellowship.
Knowing that he is way out of his league with understanding how to guide Gabrian through this particular portion of her learning process, he insists that she pursue her training in person. Since summer is upon them, Ethan graciously takes it upon himself to maintain the workload at the office and handle her clients for the month of July so that she can have the time she needs to at least attempt an understanding of this new path she must take.
Hesitantly, she agrees to go to Ashen’s home in Canada where Gabrian would have her undivided attention with little interruption. But the guilt begins to itch at her—Ethan is taking on too much because of her—but with a firm pat on the back and a smirk on his lips, Ethan pushes her toward the car and assures her that everything will be okay.
24
ROAD TRIP
WITH ARRANGEMENTS HAVING already been made, all Gabrian has left to do is sit quietly and enjoy the ride. Rachael volunteers to be tour guide on the trip north of the border and Shane insists on coming along as well, since he never strays too far from her side—not since she awoke from the coma.
Shane offered to escort them to Ashen’s promptly through the Shadow’s Veil, but since Gabrian had never been to any part of Canada, Rachael had insisted she skip the uneventful shadow jaunt to their destination and make it a road trip like she and Gabrian used to do when they were in school. Remembering how much fun they had, Gabrian agrees with her. Gabrian also picks up a bit of anxiety running through Rachael’s aura when the suggestion of shadow travel was an option so to still her friend’s jitters, and her own desires to step away from magic for a few moments, good old road trip it is.
The summer sun is just a midnight’s dream when the trio begins their voyage. With luggage stashed snugly in the trunk, and what seems like a ton of snacks neatly packed away in a to-go box Rachael set on the floor in the back of Gabrian’s car, they all pile in and kiss Northeast Harbor a fond farewell for a while.
Rachael grins and reaches into her burgundy leather purse tucked under her seat, pulling from it an Ipod that she quickly plugs into the car’s stereo system. The upbeat notes of Cyndi Lauper bounce merrily around the car as “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” fills the small tin space.
Shane’s massive form bolts upright, scraping his head on the ceiling of the car in a prompt effort to end this sudden madness. “Oh, hell no!” he says, reaching out—nearly capturing the little device in Rachael’s hand—but she moves just in time to thwart his attempt to burst her happy bubble.
She flips her head around in a curt and snappy fashion, giving him a defiant stare down. “Listen here, Mister I-can-walk-through-shadows, if you are going to be on this road trip then you need to suck it up, buttercup, and get your groove on or find yourself a shadow to disappear into ‘cause this is happening whether you like it or not.” Turning her back to him, her smirk grows across her face and slips Gabrian a side-wink that causes her to grin.
Shane sinks back into his seat with his eyes narrowed. A very audible growl resonates through the music—an obvious attempt of making his displeasure known to the girls in the front. Rachael’s smile slips a little wider as her fingers press the volume button higher in order to drown out the pouting Schaeduwe in the backseat.
It is due north for them now—only a few hours travel to the east coast of New Brunswick—and once they hit the Canadian border, they are halfway there.
No more than an hour into the trek, with Shane’s size, his lack of appreciation for small confined spaces begins to get the better of his usual chipper demeanor. Hunching down and laying off to the side in order for his head not to go through the roof wears on him. Gabrian had considered using her mom’s car to drive them but left it tucked under the canvas wrap in the garage, undisturbed. She couldn’t bear to go near it, let alone drive it again since her parents were taken away from her. It was too painful so her little green Beetle was just going to have to do.
The girls glance behind, watching the large man-boy wriggle and shift as he attempts to find a comfortable spot. “Stupid small cars,” he grumbles from the backseat, causing them to giggle at his discomfort.
“It’s gonna be a long trip,” Rachael declares, slipping off her shoes and pulling her bare feet up to perch on the front of the dash—wiggling her toes in delight.
“He has other options—if he wants to be on this road trip, he will have to endure it.” Gabrian smirks and shrugs her shoulders but feels just a bit guilty for saying it.
“Hey, grumpy, pass me up a granola bar from the snack box on the floor,” Rachael hoots over her shoulder toward the backseat.
“I can’t.”
Rachael wrenches her tiny torso around to face him, her red locks fluttering with the wind dancing through her opened window. “And why not? They are right there,”
she says, pointing down to the empty box. Her eyes rush to meet Shane’s, wide with complete perplexity. “What happened to the food?”
Shane’s face flushes just for a second and then he grins impishly, chewing on something as he places the last empty wrapper in the garbage bag behind the seat.
“You didn’t...” She nearly jumps over the seat to retrieve the bag. “You ate everything?”
“Hey, I was hungry,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders. “And all that was in there was just rabbit food anyway so it didn’t take long to go through it.”
“Huh.” Rachael huffs sliding back down into her seat, her arms locked across her chest in disgust with their backseat annoyance. “You are such an ingrate.”
“It’s a fair trade off really, if you think about. You get to sit in comfort while I have to suffer the trip traveling in the back of a tin can, listening to girly music,” he says, making air quotes around the music style. “It is what I like to call a compromise.” Shane’s hearty chuckle resonates from the backseat, tickling their ears, but Rachael doesn’t give into to his cheeriness. Shane edges himself forward and grabs hold of Rachael’s seat for leverage. Resting his chin on the shoulder of her chair, he gazes out the windshield with them for a moment, overlooking the weathered road called Route 1. “Tell you what, the next place we come to that sells something that we can eat, we will load up for the rest of the trip—my treat,” he offers, patting the edge of her shoulder lightly with his fingers.
Gabrian grins at the two of them, keeping her eyes focused on the road. Rachael’s grim curve in her lips softens with his gesture of truce and puckers in defiance. But they all know she will cave—it’s not in her nature to stay mad for long.
“Fine,” she exhales, letting her arms loosen from their dead bolt position, but she raises her chin to let him know she is not done being cross with his act of gluttony. “You could have at least offered us something before you devoured it all. I am starving.”
“Can you refrain from starving to death for another fifteen minutes?”
“Why?”
“Because we are nearly to Cherryfield, there is a convenience store there just after we cross the bridge.” He pats her seat again but turns his attentions to the driver. “Is that okay with you?”
“Sure, if it will keep you two from tearing each other apart.”
“Sweet.” Sliding his hand from Rachael’s seat over to rest on the edge of Gabrian’s, his fingers creep forward until she feels the heat of his skin upon her own. His fingertips feather out against the side of her right arm and dance lightly over her flesh, making her skin pimple. She frees one of her hands and it draws to his like a magnet, cupping his fingers gently within her own. Leaning his head nearer, he tugs at the tips of her fingers until they rest upon the fullness of his lips. Just for a moment he holds them there before setting them free again.
Dragging his head back across the top of the ceiling, resting awkwardly in the middle of the backseat, he smiles at her through the rear-view mirror. His eyes call to her and touch the center of her soul from deep within their sea of green serenity. The warm early morning sun gleams in through the side window, basking happily against his caramel-coloured skin, making him almost shimmer as if he had somehow manifested his own kind of aura. But she knows better. The Schaeduwe do not exude their energy like everyone else, which makes it easier for her to be around him compared to everyone else, and she thanks the gods for this exception—especially of late.
With all the discussion of food and eating, Gabrian’s own hunger pangs are awakening, but not for what she had hoped for. Normally she can contain her cravings and subdue them with the bitter exchange of necessary bland energy strands taken here and there, but Rachael’s iridescent life force that always flares like a beacon in the night is quite flamboyant and noticeable today—awareness of it is more than Gabrian likes. The sweet fragrance dances all around her friend—a strand of essence wafts so close that Gabrian is unable to avoid inhaling it. The pangs of desire cause her to bite down and chew at the side of her cheek just to keep from losing control and give in to the desire to truly taste it.
Maybe it is because they are all trapped together in close quarters or maybe it is her lust to scratch at a forbidden itch that begs to consume her thoughts. She does not know. All she is certain of is she needs to get out of the car for a minute and away from the light to get a hold of herself.
Cutting her breath off before she can inhale any more rogue fragments of life, Gabrian’s eyes rip away from Shane’s gaze and quickly finds the window button on the door. Pressing it hard, she rolls down the glass between her and the outside world. The instant push of wind washes through the car, carrying away some of the tempting aromas along with it. Keeping her face close to the open window, she begins to breathe again, returning her focus back to the road, and hopes for a new distraction—any distraction.
Rachael is right. This is going to be a long trip.
25
OFF TO THE GREAT WHITE NORTH
“THERE IT IS.”
“There what is?”
“The Eastcoast Convenience store. Ta da!” Shane shouts from the backseat, pointing at the little white building with the yellow business sign on the front. It is just as he said, perched on the side of the road just after they crossed the little bridge on Route 1 through Cherryfield.
“Finally,” Gabrian expels, whipping the steering wheel to the right, and bursts out of the vehicle as soon as she places it into park—leaving the door wide open behind her—and begins to tread around in wide circles with her hands tucked into her hair, loosely tied up into a messy bun upon her head. She turns her face up into the sun and pulls in deeply at the uninfected air around her, transfixed in an aimless course.
Shane and Rachael climb out of the small green bug they had been squished into and stand idly, watching Gabrian pace wildly, oblivious to their stares.
“Hey, are you okay?” Shane asks, looking down at Rachael who crooks her face at him, just as confused as he by Gabrian’s odd behavior.
Gabrian’s mind is too busy to hear anything—all her attention clamors to calm her inner most desires to quench the hunger beneath. Her grey aura sways and twitches violently around her as she searches for the voice that lingers from time to time within her soul, the one that tells her everything will be fine.
And it will be. She is better than this, she tells herself. She just needs to find it. Her mind goes on a rampage of collecting—confining any and all thoughts of how tantalizing Rachael’s life force smells and how savory the little strand of white light had tasted. Stuffing it deep within the dark, shrouded places of her mind, Gabrian smothers it with the coherency that she just needs to ignore her body’s yearnings—to do what is right, not what is instinctual.
“Gabrian, what’s going on?” Shane hoots at her, a little louder than before.
Hearing Shane’s voice finally resonates within her consciousness. Gabrian halts her drifted march and stares blankly at them for a moment, realizing how strange she must look to her crew. “Ah, I guess that must have seemed weird.” She forces her lips to curl upward in a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I think I am just getting nervous about going to Canada and figuring out what is going on with me—and working with another Elder I don’t know.”
The folds in Shane’s cheeks crease with his immediate relief in her words. The thought had crossed his mind that she was having some type of physical issues as her eyes had changed in the mirror while he was looking at her. For a moment, he could have sworn her pupils were dilating, which would be fine, but they were driving into the sun—dilation is not something that would be considered a normal reaction—but then again, nothing about this trip is normal and for that matter, neither is Gabrian.
“Don’t worry so much. Ashen is great. I really wouldn’t let her being an Elder bother you. Trust me on that.” Shane gives her a wink and arches his back, raising his large arms up over the top of his head. Clasping his fing
ers together, he extends his reach backwards—growing larger by the second as he tries to pull out the stiffness festering within his muscles. She can hear the sound of his internals snapping and popping as he pulls and stretches—a condition that Gabrian is certain was caused from him being bunched up for so long in the backseat. The makers of her beetle bug probably weren’t considering the comfort of a large Schaeduwe in the back when they designed it.
She and Rachael both stare at him with pursed lips at his somewhat exaggerated display of discomfort until Rachael’s microscopic moment of sympathy for him evaporates. “All right, tough guy, dig out your moneybags and buy us some food,” Rachael commands, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I am hungry.”
Shane’s folded hands drop to rest at the back of his neck and cradles in tightly against his mess of half-curled locks as he grins and surveys the parking lot. He starts to move forward, releasing his hands from their hold, and marches quickly toward the store. Gabrian and Rachael shut the doors on the bug and follow his lead. In front of the store, Shane bends down and snags up a handful of weeds growing inconspicuously by the edge of the building and turns abruptly to face the girls.
“Here you go, Rach,” Shane says, lifting the bundle in her direction. “Breakfast is served.” He chortles out barely able to contain himself, quite pleased of his attempt at humour. “This should do you till we reach the border, right?”
“Ha, ha, very funny. Pick On Vegans Day, is it?” Rachael pushes past Shane and lands a punch to his stomach on the way by. “Jerk.”
Shane hunches over and grabs at his stomach where her tiny fist landed and pretends his defeat by groaning loudly, still sporting his grin. “What? Wrong flavour?”