by Sally Green
I want the amulet but I don’t like the idea of a witch’s bottle. The thought that I’m giving myself over to using something that Wallend wanted to use makes me uncomfortable. But I guess I don’t have a lot of choice. I nod.
“Good,” Ledger says, looking from me to Gabriel. “So, who’s got a knife?”
I don’t want to use the Fairborn—somehow I feel its magic will be bad luck or may interfere—so I pull out the knife Gabriel gave me. I always carry it on my belt, even though I rarely use it.
My right hand is flat on the table. I’ll have to cut the little finger at the base, at the knuckle, and I position the knife but it’s awkward and I want to do it quick and clean.
“Shall I do the honors?” Ledger asks, reaching for the knife.
But Gabriel says, “No.” And he puts his hand on mine, our fingers overlapping round the hilt of the blade. He says, “You sure?”
I nod and he pushes the knife down.
Blood seeps out on the table and my finger looks tiny and strange. I wait for the pain to hit. And now it does. I heal my hand and the bleeding stops and the wound scabs over and then heals completely to a white scar, not even a stub of my finger left as the cut has been made so close to the palm of my hand.
Ledger picks my finger up and carefully places it on top of one of the amulet halves and then rolls the finger up and wraps the other amulet half round that. Blood stains the paper but Ledger doesn’t seem bothered and I think possibly it’s a good thing.
“Now tie it up.” He holds the finger and I take the string and carefully wrap it round and round the bundle, making sure it’s tight and securing it with a knot. I tie another piece of string the other way to make sure that the finger can’t slide out. Ledger drops the little bundle into the bottle and puts the cork in. Then he lights a candle. He holds the block of red wax over the flame and lets the wax dribble onto the top of the bottle, sealing the cork in place.
Ledger glances up at me, then back at the bottle to admire it.
“So that’s it?” I ask.
“Well, I think it would be sensible to test it.” And he turns to Gabriel, saying, “Would you like to go first?”
Gabriel smiles at me and reaches for the knife.
“Hold on. This isn’t a game!” I say to them both. “I don’t want to find out it doesn’t work seconds before I die!”
“I won’t stab you in the heart, maybe just try to cut your skin,” Gabriel says. He looks to Ledger, asking, “The amulet will protect against any injury, won’t it?”
“That’s the idea.”
And before I can object Gabriel pulls the knife across the back of my hand. Normally I’d have a deep cut from that, but there is no wound and I felt nothing at all, as if the blade didn’t touch me.
“Try stabbing my hand. Gently.”
“Stabbing gently? I’ll do my best.”
Gabriel stabs at my right hand. The knife slides off it and again I feel nothing and there’s no mark on my skin.
“Try again, harder,” I say. “With this.” And I give him the Fairborn.
Gabriel rises out of his chair and quickly brings the Fairborn directly down onto my hand but it doesn’t connect at all. The Fairborn slides past me and embeds itself in the table.
“OK. So knives, even the Fairborn, don’t seem to hold much of a problem for you. But Hunters generally use guns.” And Gabriel pulls his gun from his jacket and twirls it round his finger, smiling.
“I don’t see why you find this so amusing.”
Gabriel says, “Well, I could try strangling you instead. Always wanted to do that.”
“Very funny. Get on with it and shoot me.”
He points the gun at my shoulder, stomach and then leg. “Leg, I think. Right or left?”
“Just get it over with.” And I do feel nervous and want it done.
He fires. The bang is loud.
I look down.
“Did you aim properly?” I ask. I’m not hit and didn’t feel a thing.
Gabriel looks irritated. “My aim is fine.”
“Well, where’s the bullet gone?”
We spend a few minutes looking and find that it’s buried in the door.
Ledger says, “It must have ricocheted off you. This is getting dangerous. I’ll leave you to it. There’s a shotgun up there, Gabriel, cartridges in the drawer, but do stand well back.”
Gabriel reaches up to the wall and pulls down a very old-looking gun. He loads it and smiles at me again.
“Both barrels?” he asks.
“Maybe we should go outside.”
Outside, Gabriel aims at my waist and keeps a distance. He fires. The noise is the most painful thing. Shotgun pellets shower around me and I cower and close my eyes. When I open them I see that Gabriel is on his back but he’s laughing. “This gun is a monster. Almost dislocated my shoulder. You didn’t get hit?”
“No. I did feel something, but I think it was the air moving past my skin. You want to try to hit me?” I ask. “I mean, punch me?”
Gabriel sits up. “No. I have a feeling it’ll hurt me more than it’ll hurt you.” But he stands and turns the shotgun round to swing it from the barrel. “How about this?” he grins.
“Do your worst.”
And he comes at me, swinging the shotgun at my shoulder and it sort of slides past and he spins in a circle and I really try not to laugh, which seems to irritate him, and he drops the gun and tries to punch my face and then my stomach in a quick one-two. And to my surprise the punches land and I feel the touch of his fist on my jaw, but it’s as gentle as a caress and the same for my stomach. He, on the other hand, is rubbing his fist in an exaggerated way.
“I think strangling would be interesting after all,” I say.
“A pleasure,” he replies, and he grabs me round my throat. I feel his hands, warm on my skin, gentle at first and then I see he’s applying as much pressure as he can but all I feel is his warm skin.
I tell him, “It feels a little ticklish.”
Gabriel laughs and drops his hands. “Hmm, what about . . . I know, come back inside.” He goes to the sink, puts the plug in and runs the tap.
“You want to drown me?” I ask.
“Stick your head in and I’ll hold you under,” he says.
“What if I can’t breathe?”
“Then we’ll know the amulet’s weakness.”
I go to the sink, bend over it, and put my head under the water. Gabriel places his hands on the back of my neck and holds me there. I breathe out, letting all my air go. But I have no desire to breathe in. I feel strange, a little light-headed, but basically I hold my breath. I wait. Surely it can’t go on forever? I wait. And wait. I know I’ve been under for minutes now, lots of minutes.
Then I get the urge to breathe and it gets harder now. I move and squirm but Gabriel is still holding me down. I’m running out of oxygen. I’m getting dizzy, blackness is closing in. I kick back at Gabriel and he pulls my head out of the water.
“You OK?” he asks. But he’s laughing as I cough and splutter.
“I ran out of air at the end,” I say. “I could drown.”
“But not quickly. You were under for nearly ten minutes.”
“Any other ideas?” I ask.
“I wish Mercury was here to freeze you to death.”
“Somehow I think I’d be OK with that too.”
Gabriel goes to my backpack and opens it, but then stops and says, “Close your eyes. I do have another idea.”
I do as he asks.
A few seconds later he says, “Put your hands behind your back. I’m going to hit you with something but not let you see it or know where it’s coming from.”
“I don’t think it’ll make a difference,” I say, but I do as I’m told and put my hands behind my back.
And then
I feel the zip tie round my wrists, tight.
“Get out of that,” Gabriel says.
I pull my hands but I’m stuck and I turn round to face him. “Very funny. I thought you were going to try to hurt me?”
“No. But I see the weakness. You can be tricked and you can be captured.” He looks serious. “Both the sorts of things Soul enjoys doing.”
Too Precious
We stay with Ledger a few more days. The real world of war and fighting seems unreal here but that doesn’t mean I’ve changed my mind about wanting to go back. Ledger doesn’t try to persuade me to stay but he does say I need to work on my Gifts. I can stop time for short periods, almost a minute if I concentrate. I’m not sure I could do it in a fight, though. Even Marcus only used it once in a battle—when he was dying. It takes energy and concentration and I think it took the last of his.
Ledger leaves me to practice my Gifts on my own, which surprises me; I thought he’d give me advice. All he says is, “Listen to everything, observe the earth in particular, and you will learn all you need.” But he shows me a range of other Gifts to give me an idea of what I might be up against. He throws everything at me: lightning, flames, water, sound, light, colors, and objects. And he throws me too: at water, trees, and the ground. None of it hurts me, but it’s distracting and it shows I can be put off.
Ledger’s mind control works on me too. I stop attacking when he tells me to stop. And, most frighteningly, I even attack Gabriel if he tells me to. Ledger makes sure he doesn’t get hurt, but the point is made. My mind can be controlled.
Gabriel practices his Gift too, though it seems pretty perfect to me already, except for when he transforms into me, which I hate. I’m sure he makes me look better than I am, nicer, happier. Although I am happier here. Not because of Ledger or learning or any of that but because me and Gabriel are back like we used to be, better than we used to be.
In spare moments I think about the present I said I’d give Gabriel. I know he thinks I’ll forget or not bother, and that’s making me more determined to find the right thing. But the options don’t seem that inspiring: knife, book, watch, necklace, bracelet. They’re all fine and he’d like them but none of them seem good enough. I want to give him something special.
And each morning I transform into my animal self and spend time as an eagle, and usually afterward I think of my father and the time we had together, remembering all the details of him. One day after I’ve transformed back I realize what I should give Gabriel. I feel stupid for not thinking of it before: it’s so obvious, so perfect.
We sleep outside at night, although Ledger has made it so we could stay in the cabin. The first night we sleep by a fire but the second night I make a bramble den like my father had. I’ve found the Gift now that means I can make plants grow fast or die. The den is just a simple dome of brambles with a short tunnel as an entrance. It isn’t big enough to stand up in but feels cozy. We have a fire there and there are gaps in the roof we can see the stars through and the smoke finds its way up through the branches. Me and Gabriel lie together and look at the stars.
On the fifth night I say, “We should go back tomorrow.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“You like it here?”
“I like you here.”
We kiss and make love and Gabriel falls asleep. I listen to his heartbeat some more.
I’ve decided on the present I’m going to give him, but the problem now is how to do it. I don’t want to do the wrapping-in-paper-and-waiting-to-see-what-he-thinks-of-it thing and yet I do want it to be special.
I hold my right hand up and in the glow from the fire the skin on my wrist is warped and smooth. The shape of my hand looks odd with the missing finger. On my index finger is the ring my father gave me. I remember being amazed that he’d given me something so special and how proud I was of it, of having him for my father, of him giving it to me. I slide the ring off and hold it to my lips and kiss it. I remember the first time I saw Gabriel at Geneva Airport, the time Rose told me he loved me and the first time he told me he loved me. And I know I love Gabriel more than I’ve ever loved anyone, more than I thought was possible for me. He makes me a better person. I slide the ring onto Gabriel’s finger. It looks good on his hand. And I lie down close to Gabriel, and imagine our future together living peacefully in a beautiful place by a river.
The next morning I wake to Gabriel saying my name quietly. I’m lying on my back and I can feel Gabriel’s body next to mine.
“Nathan?”
I open my eyes. He’s propped up on his arm, looking at me, all serious but also nervous. He says, “I need to talk to you.” Then he looks away—he really is nervous. And he holds his hand up, the gold ring on his finger and says, “About this.”
“I said I’d give you a present. That’s my present to you.”
He looks at me and he really is serious and he doesn’t say anything and then he looks down and turns the ring round his finger as if he’s thinking about it and he opens his mouth to say something but before he does I say what I planned to say.
“You’re pissed off, aren’t you? I knew you would be.”
He looks confused. “I’m not pissed off.” And he says it sincerely with a small shake of his head. “I’m definitely not pissed off.”
“And I can understand that you are, because you think you’re good at presents and niceness and all that shit, and I’ve actually outdone you and given you an even better present than what you gave me.”
He smiles now, realizing I’m teasing him, and shakes his head again. “I admit you’ve outdone me. I never thought you’d give me anything like this. In fact, if I’m honest about it, I never thought you’d give me anything at all. But this was your father’s and . . .”
“It was my father’s and my grandfather’s before that and probably his father’s too. It’s an ancient and valuable Edge family heirloom.” I’m teasing him but it’s also the truth.
“Nathan, it’s too precious.”
“It’s precious, yes, and it’s important to me: it’s the only thing I have that my father gave me. Well, apart from the Fairborn and a Hunter bullet. Anyway, it’s the one good thing that my father gave me; that’s why I want you to have it.”
“Nathan . . .”
“I’ve thought about it carefully and I’m sure. I want you to have it and I know that my father would approve too.”
Gabriel’s eyes fill with tears.
“It’s yours. Forever.”
And now his tears spill out and we kiss and kiss more.
The Fifty-First Problem
We’re back at Celia’s camp, the new Camp One. We stayed at Ledger’s cabin for a week in total, resting, learning, working on my Gifts, and testing the amulet’s protection as much as we could. Then Ledger guided us back to the map room and from there we made our way to New York and then another day later we arrived here.
I don’t tell Celia much about Ledger—he likes his privacy—but I tell her about the amulet and my invulnerability.
I’m curious to see what will happen if Celia tries her Gift on me. I hate her noise. If there’s one thing I dread, it’s that. It’s not just the pain but the memories, the shame, the number of times I’ve been left sniveling and groaning on the floor because of it. But now I want her to use it on me. She is also keen to try it, it seems.
I grin at her and say, “But first punch me in the face.”
She cracks her knuckles, makes a fist, and swings at me, a solid right hook.
And I do feel something: not pain but a thrill at seeing Celia double over holding her hand to her body. She stands up, healing as fast as she can, no doubt. “It’s like hitting steel,” she says.
Of course that doesn’t stop her trying more things: stabbing and shooting, though I draw the line at her hanging me. I tell her to use her noise.
She says, “You�
��re ready? You don’t need to prepare or anything?”
“No, the protection is like armor I’m always wearing.”
And then the noise hits me. Only it isn’t painful, and hit isn’t the right word. It’s a faint sound, high-pitched, unpleasant, and screeching, but no more likely to stop me in my tracks than someone singing out of tune.
I fold my arms and say to her, “Are you actually trying?”
She ignores my comment and looks to Gabriel and says, “Have you found any weakness to the protection?”
“He can drown, but it would take a long time. He can be tied up or imprisoned. He can’t fight mind control. If someone with the Gift for mind control suggested he surrender, Nathan would do it. But in a battle, in a straight fight, he can’t be hurt.”
“Bombs?” Celia asks.
I roll my eyes. “We haven’t tried them.”
“You could get buried by rubble?”
“Yes. But I’d be buried alive, if that’s any comfort to you.”
“Are you expecting bombs?” Gabriel asks.
“Explosives, possibly,” Celia says. “Booby traps, like the one that killed Kirsty.”
“I’ll be fine against that.”
“You want to try?” Celia asks, taking a grenade from her pocket and holding it out to me.
I admit I’m nervous now. But then again bullets didn’t penetrate the amulet’s protection so the grenade shouldn’t be able to either.
I take the grenade and pull the pin. Celia and Gabriel rapidly back away. My heart is racing and I look at my hand, my arm, wondering if I’ll lose both.
The explosion is blinding and loud and I stagger back, my eyes closed.
My heart is still racing and my hand and my arm are tingling, but I’m relieved to see they are both still attached to me. I flex my fingers and they still work. It’s not an experience I’m desperate to repeat, though.