Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  I gasped, forcing air into stagnant lungs, lifting eyelids weighed by something more than sleep and less than death. Bereft of a thousand amputated ghost limbs and bodies, I was reduced and had lost something vital. Even the knowledge of what I’d had, the power I’d had access to, slipped away. Ephemeral panic became solid, threatening to choke me as I fought for control over my body and emotions.

  ‘Stop!’ The command tone in Logan’s voice stopped cold my rising fear but I trembled with reaction as a weakness sapped my body of warmth.

  My head thumped in warning. Logan hauled me onto his lap, cradling me like a child. Soaked, small and cold, I shivered uncontrollably. Rain pummelled my skull, drumming pain into every follicle and inch of skin.

  ‘It’s ok,’ he murmured, stroking my hair. ‘It’ll be ok.’

  ‘Wha…’ My recalcitrant tongue refused to obey and form words. ‘What happened?’

  Logan pushed wet hair back from my face. ‘You just stretched yourself a little thin in the sianfath. I’ll take you to Maeve and I can help you learn to control it.’

  ‘Control!’ I clambered to my feet, fighting the sag in my knees and the fear in my heart. Struggling to stay upright, I steadied my body and voice.

  ‘Logan, I…’ My throat tightened. ‘This is all too much. That was more than just being stretched a bit thin. That was…I could’ve…there was something…’ I pressed a hand to my stomach, unable to put into words the feeling of foreboding that tore at me - and at the chains binding the shadows deep in my head.

  Fear shifted to anger, tightening my stomach and throat, curling my fingers into fists.

  ‘I don’t think I can do this. There’s something wrong with me. There’s something…inside that wants…I don’t want to be like this. I just want to be normal!’

  He got to his feet, eyeing me levelly, with a hint of scorn. ‘There’s nothing wrong, but you aren’t a normal human, Red. You never were. You know that. But it’s like any ability – you just need to learn to use it properly. You can’t pretend this isn’t happening, because it is. I know it’s frightening and overwhelming but we’re here to help.’

  ‘Fine.’ I covered my face for a moment, then raised my chin. ‘Get Maeve to put all the blocks back in place. Then I’ll be ok and I can forget I ever met you.’

  ‘It doesn’t work like that. Your headaches will just keep getting worse until the block breaks down. Or until you take some drastic action to stop them, like suicide,’ he said harshly. ‘Maeve can help you make the transition less painful. I promise.’

  I thrust him away as he approached. ‘Get away! I need time to think. Stop pushing me. Ever since we met you’ve given me no time to process things. It’s all happening so fast that I can’t control the dar…I don’t want this!’ The scream tore at my throat and mind.

  The anger I’d held so tightly locked away for so many years surged to the fore. Years of pretending, of isolation, and fear, and yearning, congealed into awful understanding.

  I was destined to be alone, hiding who I was, fearing discovery, for my whole, very long life.

  Rage curled my hands and curdled my stomach. Tears blurred the world. I clutched at my head as darkness blossomed forth and fought for domination. But now it was worse, for it knew how to reach through me to the power in the sianfath. Desperate, I fought it, only aware that I mustn’t let it dip into that well or I would lose the battle forever.

  Logan touched my shoulder. His consciousness impinged on mine as he tried to work out what was wrong; tried to soothe what he thought were my fears.

  Let us help.

  I lifted my face and glared at him, baring my teeth as I battled the shadow spreading its cloak over my thoughts. His eyes widened and he took a step back.

  You can’t help me. None of you can. I don’t need your help. Was that voice mine?

  Logan jerked as though I’d slapped him. His face firmed into determination. His eyes narrowed. He touched my forehead.

  Sleep, Red.

  The darkness roared in denial.

  I fought. I fought Logan and the shadows, rejecting both, afraid of both. But the fight against the darkness was one I couldn’t win. Not this time. It was stronger. So I went willingly into the arms of unconsciousness to escape.

  It followed, haunting my dreams with scenes of fear, and death, and falling.

  I surfaced slowly. Lethargy pinned me to a comfortable bed. The energy of awakening slid into my limbs in a leisurely fashion, like honey, until muscles responded to my requests for motion. I opened my eyes to stare blankly into darkness. My mind skittered away from the incident that had put me here. I was afraid to even think about it. The memory of my time in the sianfath was already faint and dreamlike, but the recollection of the darkness was ever-present.

  Anger, pain and fear fed it. I needed to control myself better, in order to manage it. I couldn’t afford to let it take over. It just waited for me to make another mistake. To set it free again. It was only a matter of time.

  I thrust the thought aside.

  A few minutes of meditation settled the flutter of uncertainty. I could do this. I’d just scared myself and given in to fear. I wouldn’t again. Fear was only stories. I didn’t have to believe them. I could control them.

  The room was cool and dark with only a faint glow of orange seeping in around the edges of thick curtains in a bay window. I turned my head, glad to feel well, and spotted a green, luminous clock face beside the bed. Nine. It must be evening, since nine in the morning would be brighter. So I’d slept for only around two hours. Readjusting my thinking to fit that in, I flipped the duvet aside and sat up.

  At least I was still dressed this time. Where was I, though?

  The door opened and light sliced into the gloom.

  ‘We heard you wake up.’ Jennifer skipped into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, her smiling face half-lit. ‘We’re in another house now. Good thing you felt them coming. We got away fast enough. Looks like they didn’t know exactly which house, so we might be able to use that place again sometime. I like this place better, though. The dojo is awesome. It’s so nice to have another girl in the house, too. Mum and Logan are always like, sooo serious about everything and I’m always getting in trouble.’ She glowered. ‘I hate having no friends. Did you feel the same way? Logan said you moved around a lot, too. Oh, Mum sent me to fetch you to our now very late dinner, if you’re hungry.’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ My stomach growled audibly and we both laughed.

  A quick side-trip to the ensuite gave me the chance to see myself for the first time in many hours. I squinted into the mirror and grumbled. There wasn’t much I could do about the unruly auburn hair except run a brush through it and hope. I patted the thick waves into some semblance of order, washed mud off my face and applied a little eyeliner - just as a token to make myself feel better.

  As I put the pencil away, I spotted my new phone. Dammit! At lunch I’d told my mother I’d call at six. Now I’d missed that deadline. Leaning on the sink, I closed my eyes, chewing on my lower lip. If my mother was free to follow our agreed protocols, she should be on the next flight out. Anna knew the drill. Heroics were out. She had neither the physical ability nor training to undertake a rescue mission. But would she stick to the plan or would her fear for me and attachment to Michael Eisen hold her here?

  I straightened and tucked the phone into a pocket. I couldn’t risk calling from it. That would lead the phone-tapper straight to this safehouse. I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

  I stepped out into the main house and followed the sounds of dishes and cutlery to the kitchen. It was a relatively small place, another renovated house, with smooth timber floors and high, white ceilings. Cool and elegant, like Maeve herself. Logan and Jennifer sat already at a large, timber table. Maeve sent me a quick smile and waved at a place setting next to Jennifer, across from Logan.

  I looked over at him and encountered a calm gaze accompanied by a raised, questioning brow. I shoo
k my head and sent him a quick apologetic smile. His expression softened, his mouth twitching.

  Maeve placed a large bowl of chicken and salad in front of me. I applied myself to the salad in silence. The other three were quiet, but I had the distinct feeling a rapid-fire dialogue swirled around me. It had to be about me but there was no way of knowing the details. I got the impression that Logan sat firmly on one side, Maeve on the other and Jennifer wavering. I dismissed the idea I could join in. It wasn’t worth the headache.

  Maeve said aloud, ‘Yes, it’s perfectly understandable you want to try but it might be safer if we wait until I’ve had an opportunity to assess what’s going on. I’d prefer to proceed with care so you don’t hurt yourself.’

  My thought must’ve been unshielded. I flushed and thought hard about food instead, but my appetite vanished. I rested my aching forehead on my hands, heels pressed into my eyes. The silence carried whispers of voices I couldn’t quite hear and couldn’t quite block out.

  Maeve touched my wrist and I jerked it away out of habit. Her gaze carried understanding and empathy as she leaned across, deliberately grasped my hand and held it. I tensed, waiting.

  She smiled. ‘There’s nothing to be frightened of. You won’t get any visions from touching me. I can shield you from it. So can Logan, now I’ve shown him how.’

  I stared at her in silence, not certain how to respond. I’d lived in fear of touching anyone with my bare hands for so long I doubted I could do it naturally any more.

  ‘You’re what’s known as a precognitive,’ Maeve continued, sounding much like my last English teacher. ‘But most I’ve met only have vague feelings of impending trouble, like you did before. But you see glimpses of a future when you touch people with your hands. That’s right isn’t it?’

  I nodded slowly. ‘I’ve only had the feelings a couple of times, though. Normally it’s visions. And only very narrow, like watching a movie through a telescope. It’s always hard to tell the context.’

  ‘And is it always about unpleasant occurrences, like the motorcycle accident from which you saved Logan?’

  I hunched a shoulder and pushed salad around on my plate with a fork.

  Maeve sighed. ‘I’m not surprised you dislike contact, then. I’m dreadfully sorry it’s been so onerous for you, Rowan, but you must see what a blessing this could be?’

  ‘No! It’s not. And I won’t be a lookout in your stupid war.’ I glared at her. ‘Just try, for one second, to imagine what it’s like to never be able to touch someone you love. And when you do, to see nothing but destruction and…’ I swore.

  Tears blurred my vision and the room swam with the pent up grief of so much life and time lost. I stood and ran out the back door, into the garden.

  No! I could do this. Tears spilled and I dashed them away angrily. Staring up, through dark, whispering leaves, towards the dimly star-speckled sky, I tasted the rainwashed air and let it soothe my fears.

  I felt, rather than saw, Logan come up behind me.

  He gripped my shoulders. ‘Red—’

  ‘Look, Logan.’ I turned away, brushing him aside. ‘I know you’re not telling me everything. I know you don’t even like me. And I know you want something from me, so just stop pretending you care, ok? This is tough enough as it is, without you screwing with my head, too.’

  He regarded me, unspeaking, his brows knitted, grey eyes showing hints of uncertainty.

  ‘Forget it.’ I headed back into the house.

  Jennifer gave me a quick, scared look and picked at her food. I addressed Maeve where she still sat, calmly finishing her meal.

  ‘Maeve, I need to let my mother know I’m safe. If she stuck with our plan she should be on a plane out of the country by now.’ I glanced out the window at the glowing lights at the centre of the city. ‘But I’m pretty sure she hasn’t. She’ll be worried and I need to contact her. Is there a safe way I can call her?’

  ‘I’ll show you.’ Logan brushed past me. ‘We’ve got a scrambler and a voip connection that’s routed through so many servers there’s no way of tracking it.’

  He led the way to an office in the back of the house and flicked the light switch. The room stayed dark. With a muttered curse, he flicked it again. Then, by the light of the open door, he strode across the room and reached under the curved green shade of a brass lamp on the desk.

  Compulsive apprehension seized me. A shout forced its way out of my tight throat. ‘Don’t!’

  17

  What’s happening?>

  Another precog. I’ll deal with it.

 

  You underrate her, Maeve.

 

  Logan’s finger hovered over the switch.

  ‘Don’t turn it on,’ I blurted, trying to make sense of the images I’d seen. It was often hard to find the context of what I saw until too late but I was sure this time. ‘I saw…it’s...there’s a short. It’ll electrocute you.’

  Logan dropped his arm. He left the room with nothing more than a curt instruction for me to wait. I stood in the dark room, unsure and shaking, my head aching again, but faintly.

  Footsteps approached and I felt silly standing in the same place, halfway into a room lit only by the oblong of light from the open door. I moved to one side as Logan entered carrying a lightbulb and a stepladder. Quickly and efficiently he changed the overhead bulb and flooded the room with soft yellow light.

  Next he showed me how to use the voip computer system and waited while I spoke to my mother.

  ‘Anna?’

  ‘Oh, thank God, R..Meghan. You didn’t call! Are you ok?’ Anna’s voice cracked. ‘I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. I almost called the police but Mick talked me out of it.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Another migraine. Just woke up.’ Relief at hearing her voice almost overwhelmed me. I wanted to feel her arms around me; have her tell me it would be alright. ‘You alone?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, sounding surprised. ‘I’m at Mick’s. It’s lovely here, I assure you. I’m fine. I’ve left a message for your school that you’re off sick. What’s going on? Are you still with that Fynn boy?’

  I hesitated. I had intended to tell her everything, but something prevented me. Perhaps my own uncertainty; perhaps because Logan was still in the room. I asked Anna to use Michael’s computer to return my call over the net. The scrambler would prevent electronic eavesdropping or tracking once Anna was on a computer voice internet connection.

  A minute later, we reconnected and Anna’s face appeared, her brilliant blue eyes dimmed by worry. She seemed to be in a library, complete with gilt-leather books and a brass ladder to the ceiling-high shelves.

  ‘Yes, I’m still with Fynn and his family,’ I said when she asked again. ‘There’ve been a couple of…problems.’

  ‘What kind? Are you hurt?’ Anna touched the screen, her lips pursed.

  ‘No. Just had a few run-ins with our friend from Christchurch.’

  She gasped, her eyes wide.

  I gave a sanitised version of the last day or so, leaving out everything Logan had told me about the sidhe. It was best she knew nothing that could be used against me. Lying to my mother wasn’t easy and I needed all my years of practice to keep my expression bland. If she suspected there was more going on she didn’t say so. Without question she agreed to get a new phone in the morning so we could communicate without being traced. But after she three times guaranteed Michael had adequate security, I gave up trying to convince her to leave.

  She frowned at me. ‘This is getting too dangerous. I want you to leave, Rowan. Now. Get back to Ireland.’

  ‘Are you going?’ I shot back.

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘I’m not leaving you, either.’

  With a sigh, she nodded. ‘You’re as stubborn as your father was.’

  �
�I think I get it from both parents,’ I said drily. ‘At least promise me you’ll stick close to Michael. Don’t go back to our apartment without his security people. Promise?’

  ‘I promise,’ she said, grimacing. ‘But we’re not ready for this level of intimacy. How am I supposed to explain it to him?’

  ‘Pest problem at the apartment? Leaking roof? I don’t know.’ I sighed. ‘Exactly how close are you guys, anyway?’

  Her eyes twinkled and a dimple appeared in her cheek.

  I groaned. ‘Spare me the sordid details. I meant how serious?’ I’d never expected us to separate so soon. I thought we’d have a couple more years. Until my trust fund was released and she didn’t have to work. The prospect of not seeing her every day closed my throat and blurred my vision.

  ‘I don’t really know,’ Anna replied. ‘It’s been a long time since your father...’ She gazed through me, into memories and sadness.

  ‘Actually, I wanted to ask you about Dad.’ I cleared my throat, uncertain how to proceed. I believed Logan, but I wanted to hear from Anna who Calain Gilmore was.

  Logan’s presence somewhere behind, itched on the back of my neck.

  ‘What’s happened to make you ask?’ Anna countered.

  I hesitated, not sure what to reveal. The muted thrum of the airconditioner filled the silence I left.

  ‘I’m just trying to make sense of why these people are after me. It has to have something to do with who he was. What he passed on to me. Or maybe he had this ocair thing and hid it somewhere. Did he say anything when he left us?’ I’d never heard all the details. Perhaps this was the time.

  ‘No.’ Old pain darkened Anna’s brilliance. ‘He just said he had to go to keep us safe.’

  ‘And after? Did you hear from him?’

  ‘Not until his lawyer came, when you were about six, and told me...’ Memory of loss pulled at her mouth. ‘Told me Calain had drowned. A dozen witnesses saw him jump off the cross-Channel ferry. Wait.’ She rummaged in her wallet. ‘I have a letter the lawyer brought. You’re old enough to read it now and it might help.’