Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  Struggling to find my voice through the torture in my head, I whispered, ‘Can you heal him?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘There’s not enough here for me to draw from. The sianfath is too tenuous here. Most of this garden is fake plants. Here.’ Her cool fingers brushed my temple and took away the fire.

  ‘Thank you. Hospital?’ I couldn’t lose him now. He’d tried to save me, now it was my turn. There had to be a way.

  ‘Too far, and we can’t risk it.’

  Jennifer sobbed uncontrollably nearby, curled into a miserable heap with her arms wrapped around her knees and her face hidden.

  ‘OK.’ I closed my eyes. ‘I think I can do this. I don’t need the forest, but you’ll have to guide me. Let me show you.’ Quickly I flashed Maeve a mental image of what I wanted to do.

  Her eyes widened, narrowed in thought and firmed into decision. She nodded.

  ‘It’s our only chance. Jennifer!’ At Maeve’s sharp tone Jennifer’s head snapped up, her lower lip trembling, and eyes reddened. ‘We need your help. Pull yourself together. Press here. Keep pressure on this. Now!’

  Shaking, Jennifer sniffed, wiped her eyes and took over staunching the sluggish flow of blood from the knife wound. Her tears dripped onto Logan’s pale face. He didn’t move.

  The knife must have missed his jugular but only just. The amount of blood suggested some damage to a major artery or vein. Fear threatened to overcome my thinking again.

  Maeve touched my arm, leaving bloody prints. ‘You can do this, Rowan. I trust you. Here’s what you have to do. But you must release the energy correctly. Too fast and it will kill him.’ She touched my forehead, Gifting the entire healing process, then quickly draining away the resulting pain.

  I rocked back, absorbing it then nodding my understanding.

  ‘I should take that last block down before you try.’ Maeve’s worry loomed large in her grey eyes.

  ‘There’s no time.’ I reached for Logan.

  Maeve gripped my wrists hard. ‘It could kill you. This much psi work and this much pain. Your mind may not be able to handle it. You could burn out.’

  ‘That doesn’t change the fact that Logan will die if I don’t try.’ Maeve didn’t let go and I shook her roughly off. ‘It’s my fault you’re all here. My fault he’s like this. Let me fix it.’ I wiped the back of a hand across my eyes, ignoring Maeve’s shocked, troubled look. ‘Jen, use your telekinesis. Try to keep his heart going. If it stops, keep his blood moving and his lungs working. Keep oxygen to his brain. Can you do that?’

  The girl nodded, eyes huge in a pale face. I took Maeve’s hand and laid my other over the top of Jennifer’s, touching both her skin and Logan’s. It was the only way I could be certain to clearly distinguish their energies from every other living thing.

  My ability to draw life from animals and people had to be closely akin to the standard ability to heal by drawing energy from the trees. Mine simply encompassed all living things, which gave me access to more energy than Maeve could draw on.

  My head felt remarkably clear now. Closing my eyes, I opened myself to the world. There: glimmerings of the tiny lives of ants, mice, the rooftop plants, other people in the buildings around. Extending myself outward I touched the energy of hundreds of people in nearby houses.

  With a source at my metaphorical fingertips, I drew a fraction of energy from each and every life form – enough to make them a little tired perhaps but no more. The energy flowed into me on invisible threads, pouring orange, and silver-green, power into my frail body until I could barely contain its sizzling potential.

  Then I turned my gaze inward and dived into the wound in Logan’s neck. It was messy and one quick inspection was enough to show I had neither the skill nor the experience to heal it correctly, even with the Gifting.

  Maeve. I didn’t bother knocking on the woman’s smooth mental shield, there wasn’t time. Logan was close to death. I simply created a new door in the imaginary blankness and opened it – from my side.

  Ignoring Maeve’s horrified astonishment, I showed what I’d seen inside Logan.

  I can’t do it, I said tersely, holding the power in my body by force, fighting the pain growing with it. I had to let it go soon or I would explode. I don’t have the skill to control the flow of energy that delicately. I’ll feed you the power, you do the work.

  Maeve flicked me one more worried look, then turned to work on Logan. Her hand trembled as she moved Jennifer’s out of the way.

  Using my own arm as a channel, I fed power into Maeve slowly. The urge to pour it in like water in the hopes it would fix him faster was almost irresistible. But that would kill both of them and possibly Jennifer too.

  The agony in my head blossomed into anguish. Darkness shivered and shifted but, because the threat wasn’t to me, it stayed in its cage.

  Energy trickled from myself into Maeve, who directed it; mended, stitched muscle, bone and artery back together. Then, when it was done, I pulled back, almost drained, blinded and nauseated, my brain on fire.

  No. Maeve’s weariness softened her mental voice to a whisper. His heart stopped. I need one last shock to restart it. You’ll have to do it directly, though.

  Willingly, I pushed through the wall of black pain. I gathered stored energy into an imaginary ball and threw it into Logan. His body jerked and stilled. With a sob I pulled the last of my reserves and shocked him again. I slumped forward, so tired and disorientated with pain I was unable to even reach out for more.

  His body jerked... and he sucked a shallow, shuddering breath... and another.

  The rooftop garden spun as blackness enveloped me and I passed into oblivion.

  27

  ‘Prithee Kieran, no!’Tis too dangerous.’ A woman’s anxious face swam into view; beautiful, frightened, distracted. She glanced over her shoulder.

  ‘We must, my love, recall thy promise and thy warning. We dursn’t leave the child in with strangers, bereft of knowledge of his heritage.’ This came from a man, his face hidden in shadow. He stroked the woman’s face.

  She nodded, reluctantly. Leaning down, she kissed the child’s forehead and he wrapped his pudgy arms around her neck, squeezing. When she withdrew, tears stained her face.

  She stood and used the hem of her long skirt of mop her cheeks. ‘Very well. ‘Tis done. Now do your part. But make it hold fast for at least a decade. ’Twill be too much to deal with ‘til he’s of an age to understand. And perchance we may be able to return before...’ She looked at Kieran. Hiding a sob in her hands she ran from the room.

  Kieran sighed and picked the child up gently. The boy giggled and tugged on the man’s long hair. A flash of teeth in the shadows gave the impression of a smile. Kieran set the boy down on a bed of rough sacking. Holding the child’s face between his hands he stared into the grey eyes. Then he stood and left the room without a backward look.

  Alone in a small, dark room that smelled of dirt and animals, fear stepped in. Where were they? No one came. The boy cried in the dark but still no-one came for him.

  Willingly, I floated up from darkness and distress into awareness. Someone called my name, urgently, with more than a touch of fear in their tone. Awake, I kept my eyes closed. In every kidnapping movie the idiot opened their eyes too soon. I extended my other senses. I lay in an awkward position: my neck bent, legs tucked up. A low-level thrum and sickening movement gave a clue to location – the back seat of a car. My head on someone’s leg. Logan’s leg. The Freysons’ car, then.

  The events of the evening slammed into me and I sat upright with a gasp, clutching at the door armrest. Warm hands held me up and I squinted into Logan’s concerned face. His bloodied shirt was torn, revealing the silvery vest beneath. His eyes were shadowed and strained, but he lived. The car lurched around a corner and he gathered me into a hug that, for some weird reason, made me want to cry. Pressed against his chest, my face tucked into his neck, a knot of tension dissolved.

  He was alright.

  Yes
. His mental voice sounded amused. Thanks to you. I would like some explanations, though. I’ll apologise properly later, when we’re alone.

  ‘Apologise?’ I leaned back so I could see him in the flickering orange half-light of passing streetlamps.

  Maeve clicked the windscreen wipers on as a faint fall of rain misted the glass. Thunder rumbled.

  He nodded gravely. ‘I let you fall and I promised you I wouldn’t. You saved my life but I let you down – literally.’

  ‘I did shoot you.’ I pointed at the blood.

  ‘I told you to.’

  ‘The blood packs and vest under your shirt were a nice touch, by the way.’ I gave a shaky laugh and touched the warm, flexible metal. ‘Pretty big risk, though.’

  He picked my hand off his chest and cradled it to his cheek, leaving a smear of half-dried blood. I shivered. The memory of shooting him was difficult to erase, even though I’d been reasonably sure of his safety at the time.

  But that left one question still unanswered. I pulled free and leaned away again in order to better see his reaction.

  ‘What the hell were you doing there, anyway? How did you know where I was? Did you follow me?’

  Logan smiled slightly, though it was mirthless and his grey eyes hardened. ‘When I saw you with Paul Eisen I could hardly think straight. I thought you’d betrayed me…us.’

  ‘No.’ I scrubbed my stained palms on my pants. ‘We met at the shop. I just wanted to pass a message to Anna, to make sure she was safe. Then I was on the news and I had to distract him.’

  ‘Yes.’ He nodded slowly. ‘I worked that out. Your shields aren’t perfect yet. I knew, then, where you were going, and why. I’m sorry, Rowan. I let you walk into a trap.’

  I grimaced, about to wave away his apology, then stopped as the import of his words hit home. Staring blankly at him, I reviewed the evening and the last few days. Let me walk into a trap? That implied he not only knew where I was going, but that he knew it was a trap, even before I’d left him in the dojo. A slow burn grew in my belly.

  Of course he had. He knew the person hunting me was Michael Eisen. How else had Logan thought to wear the vest? He’d let me go because I was perfect bait. I’d been right to suspect his apparent altruism. There was none.

  ‘You knew.’ I shifted away on the seat, watching Logan, wanting him to deny it. ‘You’d already worked out who was killing your people. You knew it was Michael when you met me, didn’t you? Or was it before you met me?’

  He said nothing, his face set, mind-shield smooth and hard as glass.

  I shoved across to the other side of the car, sickness growing alongside the anger. In front, Maeve half-turned her head but didn’t speak. Jennifer cast her eyes down, fiddling with something on her lap.

  ‘Oh my God. I’ve been such an idiot. You’ve known all along, haven’t you?’ I ran a hand over my face, reassessing everything the Freysons had said and done. ‘Was meeting me planned or just dumb luck? Ha!’ The laugh was sarcasm rather than humour. ‘You weren’t even enrolled at Cairns High were, you? You read that in my thoughts when we met and hacked yourself into the student database so I could contact you.’ I eyed him with growing disgust. ‘The idea to contact you wasn’t even mine, was it? You planted it. That’s why I didn’t cut and leave town like I should have.’

  He didn’t reply, his face pale in the flickering orange streetlights. Maeve pressed her lips together.

  ‘So how long did it take you to work out that I’d make the perfect little fish for Michael? Seconds after we met or did you deliberate for as much as five minutes?’ I enjoyed the flinch and grimace that evoked. ‘And going out with Paul, that wasn’t my idea, either, was it? I should have guessed. Nice bit of reverse psychology there. I’ll bet Maeve was proud of that.’

  He flicked a look at the back of Maeve’s head, sealing any doubts I’d had about who ran this show.

  ‘Oh!’ I glared at Maeve in the mirror. ‘And tonight. When I suddenly thought to call Paul. That was you, wasn’t it. I’d never do something that stupid.’

  She said nothing, her eyes fixed on the road.

  ‘Both of you.’ I pressed on. ‘You knew it was wrong and you still let me go tonight because it was too good a chance to pass up. You endangered my mother’s life and mine just to get yourself close to Michael in the hopes you could kill him.’

  I curled a lip. ‘You thought using a helpless human woman and keeping me ignorant was a good way to further your high and mighty, noble cause? Wow. That gives me such a good feeling about working with you.’ I turned to stare at Maeve. ‘And was letting yourself be kidnapped and drugged part of the plan? Or was that just stupidity? Because from where I sit, it looks remarkably like you screwed up.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘No, of course we didn’t plan for Anna to be involved or for Jen to be taken.’ Logan replied at last, his voice low and strained. ‘Eisen’s men backtracked your taxi. You’d disarmed the security on the side gate. They snuck in and darted Maeve and Jen.’

  I refused to succumb to the twinge of guilt that followed his words. This situation was not of my making; at least, not entirely.

  ‘And yes, we suspected it was him, but we weren’t certain,’ he agreed, his expression grave. ‘We had it narrowed down to a few possibilities. Eventually, Eisen’s pursuit of you – Anna and Calain’s daughter – gave him away.’ Logan scrubbed at his face, exhaustion showing for the first time. ‘He clearly sees himself as some sort of chivalric defender of the purity of the human race.’

  ‘I don’t give a damn, and that’s crap.’ I cut across, anger boiling over. ‘He’s not some crazed, revenge-seeking, racist psychopath. He may be working with the Mors Ferrum, but he’s more about money than purity. He has his own agenda. He was very keen to use me as a medical guinea pig. Anna told me his labs are running studies on anti-aging proteins. I can guess where they source them from.’

  ‘Rowan—’ Maeve’s soft voice interrupted.

  ‘No.’ I snapped. ‘Don’t even start, Maeve. I do not care what noble reasons you had – and revenge for your son’s death, by the way, is not noble. There were any number of points when you could’ve treated me as a person you cared about, and told me. Even asked me for help. And I would have, willingly, if I’d understood.’

  ‘I wanted—’ Logan began.

  ‘I came back for you,’ I snarled at him. ‘I could have gone after my mother, but I trusted you. Felt like I owed you, so I came back. I saved your goddamned life and you betrayed me.’

  28

  What the hell do I say?

 

  Dammit, Maeve. This is our fault. Anna—

 

  Well, you’d know, wouldn’t you?

  Logan said nothing, his expression hooded, his eyes meeting Maeve’s in the rear view for one, brief, troubled moment.

  I sent him a bleak look. ‘I’m done. You blew it. Stop the car. I’m getting out here.’ I grabbed my bag from the floor and stared out the window. The car slid into a side street and stopped. The door lever was turning under my hand when Logan spoke again.

  ‘What about Anna? What about Michael?’

  ‘What do you mean? Didn’t Paul take her home? Is he in this too?’

  ‘I can’t tell how much he knows, but Michael got away,’ Logan said. He pointed out the front window. ‘We were taking you home to try and get to her before he did. Michael wants this ocair thing and he thinks you or Anna has it. You don’t think he’ll just give up, do you?’

  ‘Dammit!’ I slid back and rebuckled. ‘Drive, Maeve.’ When Logan opened his mouth I cut him off. ‘Don’t even think about speaking to me.’

  A quick phone call to our home phone produced nothing but Anna’s cheerful voicemail message. A second one, to her cellphone, got the same result.

  I turned my face to the window and hardened my mental shields. I should have
known better than to trust anyone. Hadn’t that been my life’s lesson? It had kept me and Anna alive for years. And now it was clear what my father tried to protect me from – not just the Ferrum but my own kind; his kind.

  It took several minutes to redirect my thoughts into something more useful. Betrayal was a difficult feeling to release. All I could do for now was bury it. The darkness in me fed on it.

  The rest of the short drive played out in stony silence. I chose not to listen to the fast subtext flying between the others. Whatever they planned they could do without me. I needed none of their help.

  When the car halted, half a block away from the entrance to our apartment complex, I turned to Logan. I kept my tone low and reasonable, but couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes.

  ‘Go. I don’t need your help.’

  Logan ignored me, climbing out and walking around to my side. ‘You don’t know who’s up there. Don’t be a fool.’

  Slamming the car door and shouldering my pack, I sent him a scathing glare. ‘I’ve already been a fool for trusting you once, Logan. I won’t make the same mistake twice. Get out of my way.’

  A long silence followed, during which a two-way conversation went on behind his hard expression. He stepped aside. I strode towards the building, trying not to let the sound of a car door closing and the rev of an engine accelerating away have any affect.

  I failed. It hurt, in spite of everything.

  Bitter anger burned in my throat. Anger at both myself and the Freysons, Michael, Paul, and even at Anna for being stupid enough to fall for a con-artist.

  I approached the entrance cautiously. The after-hours reception desk was empty, which was unusual. The secured apartment block hired a twenty-four-hour concierge-guard.

  A quick look over the desk gave the answer. I gulped, dropped to the floor and put my back to the wall. Judging by the amount of blood pooling on the floor under the body, calling the paramedics was a waste of time. I palmed a throwing knife, wishing for a gun.