Reditus

by Mary M Wallace

  Bree hadn’t thought about what coming back here might be doing to her parents. They had half a lifetime of memories spent in this place. Of course, coming back here was difficult for them, after everything they’d been through and lost. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I didn’t mean to make you both sad.”

  Rylee shook her head immediately. “No,” she said. “Don’t be sorry. We’ve talked about all this already. We’re fine. Really.” Bree felt some relief at her words but still wondered at the sad smile on her mother’s face. She had a sudden thought.

  “Mom,” she said. “How did you know about this place?”

  Rylee smiled. “I used to come here a lot. It was quiet. Peaceful. No one ever came here. I could relax my guard and not have to worry about being bombarded by a hundred emotions that weren’t my own. It was one of the few places I could think.” She turned to look up at Jon who was smiling down at her. Bree felt a sadness for her mother. She wondered how difficult it must have been before she’d learned to control her ability and block out those around her.

  “Was this place ever in use then?” Bree asked. “It seems like it’s just a big room that no one ever comes in. Surely it had a purpose once.”

  Jon said, “Originally it was meant to be a place for growing crops. Hydroponic plants. No soil required. Just the UV lamps.” He pointed up to the light shining on the tree from high overhead. Bree hadn’t thought about it, but of course the tree would need some form of artificial sunlight down here. She nodded and looked up to study the lights, squinting her eyes at their brightness.

  “Makes sense,” she said. “So why don’t they use it now?”

  “They haven’t used it since the 70s,” Jon said. “I think it just became easier to buy what was needed once our numbers started to dwindle. Plus, there was no time or people to spare for farming. Everyone has been devoted to the fight.”

  Now Bree felt a twinge of sadness. So much had been lost in the war with Ephraim. Would it ever end? She sighed.

  “How do you know all that?” Rylee asked Jon.

  Jon smiled down at her. “I looked it up in the archives when I was a kid. After the first time I came here.” Bree watched her mother’s face bloom with a pink blush and she turned her head into Jon’s chest for a moment. Jon laughed.

  Bree’s brow raised in curiosity. “Am I missing something?” she asked.

  Jon smiled mischievously and said, “Your mom lured me here one night and tried to take advantage of me.” Rylee’s mouth dropped open and she smacked Jon in the chest with the back of one hand.

  “I did not!” she said, outraged.

  Jon was laughing but he looked over at Bree and nodded theatrically. “She totally did,” he said. “I was young and innocent.”

  Rylee rolled her eyes. “You were not innocent,” she said drily. “You’d already kissed that Suzie girl.”

  “Sophie,” Jon corrected her.

  “I see you can remember her name,” Rylee said and looked away from him. Jon chuckled.

  “Jealous?” he asked with a smile.

  “Not even a little,” Rylee said.

  Bree watched this byplay with no small amount of shock. Who were these people? And what were they talking about? “Wait,” she said, holding up a hand. “I thought it was always you and Jacobi?” she said. “What’s this about you having your way with Dad?”

  Rylee rolled her eyes and sighed. She glared at Jon. “So much for trust,” she said under her breath. “When I was thirteen, I brought your dad here and I kissed him. And he promised me he’d keep it a secret!”

  “Well,” Jon said, “technically, I kissed you. But you asked me to. And besides, it’s been like 30 years. Isn’t there a statute of limitations?”

  Rylee made a scoffing noise. “It’s been 27 years, thank you. And no, there’s no statute of limitations on trust or first kisses.”

  Bree smiled. She couldn’t help it. “Aww,” she cooed. “Dad was your first kiss? That’s so sweet!”

  Rylee rolled her eyes and waved a hand at Jon who was smiling at her indulgently. “Whatever,” she said dismissively.

  Jon looked over to Bree and smiled. He tilted his head in Rylee’s direction and waggled his eyebrows. “She likes me,” he said. “Thinks I’m hot stuff.”

  Bree rolled her eyes. “Ew,” she said, laughing. “I’m leaving now. You guys are gross.” She turned around to leave as Jon scooped Rylee into his arms and spun her around. As the door closed behind her, Bree could hear her mother’s laughter echoing through the room.

  After leaving her parents, Bree made her way to the library. The day before, she’d discovered a section filled with books of Praetorian history. She hadn’t had time to look through them but now she did. With the following day free, she thought she’d take the time to learn more about where she came from. History had always been a favorite subject of hers and she liked the idea of having a connection to the history she was reading. Standing before the shelf of thick books, she selected one at random and pulled it out. She flipped through the first several pages and found that it was written in Latin. She sighed and replaced the book. Studying the book spines, she tried to make sense of the way books were arranged. After pulling a few books out and giving them a brief look, she realized that they were ordered chronologically with the older books near the bottom. No two books had the same author so she supposed it made sense to come up with a different system.

  She bent down to study the books on the bottom shelf. These were clearly older than the ones on the upper shelves. They looked well cared for, if dusty. She wondered how often anyone read these. A large book with a bright red cover caught her eye and she reached for it. It was heavy, but she tugged it from the shelf and brushed away a dust bunny. She was surprised at just how large the book was. Looking around the room, she didn’t see anyone nearby so she moved to sit on the floor, pulling the big book into her lap to flip through it. It was full of accounts of ancient Roman battles and politics. Bree skimmed several pages and studied the various drawings. After a few minutes, she moved to replace the book on the shelf.

  One of the books had tipped to the side, blocking her from sliding the red book back onto the shelf. She reached with one hand to move it and tried to maneuver the massive book into the space. As she did, the red book tipped sideways and pushed two other books off the shelf, causing a muffled thump when they fell the few inches to the floor. Bree looked around to make sure no one had seen it. She was still alone in this part of the library. She made sure the massive red book was safely back on the shelf before reaching to pick up the two smaller books she’d dislodged. The first one was written in a language Bree didn’t recognize. She studied the symbols on the cover briefly before putting it back on the shelf. The other book didn’t look as old as the rest on this shelf. It was small and bound in black leather. There was nothing on the outer cover except for a pair of engraved initials C. M. on the bottom right corner. Curious, Bree opened the cover. The first page was filled with handwritten words in a thick blocky scrawl.

  For my darling Charlotte,

  These past months haven’t been easy without you. I miss you more than words can describe. Though I’d love nothing more than to have you by my side, I feel a sense of peace knowing that you are safe. This is dangerous work and the thought of you in harm’s way is more than I can bear. I count the days until I can be back in your arms. Until then, perhaps filling these pages will bring you some comfort. My hope is that you will fill them with all the little day–to–day things that I cannot be a part of. For my part, I shall expend every effort to come home safely to you as quickly as possible. Until that day, know that you hold my heart within your own.

  With Love,

  –E

  Bree felt her curiosity spike as she read the page again. She wondered who Charlotte might have been and whether her beloved E had made it back to her. Her mouth curved into a smile as she turned the page. The writing on this page was delicate and sweep
ing, written in black ink. Her eyes widened as they registered the words on the page and her heartbeat quickened.

  Last night I dreamt of my sweet Ephraim. In my dreams, he was home with me, where he belongs. He held me in his arms and whispered his love to me. When I moved to wrap my own arms about him, he disappeared as though a mirage. I woke with my heart aching, reaching for him in the dark. My traitorous dreams conspire to remind me of all that I’m missing while he is away. I count the days though I’m not sure why. I do not know when he will return and so the growing number only serves to remind me of how much I miss him. 74 days have passed.

  Bree’s eyes focused on the one word on the page that stood out so vividly that it seemed to be made of bright neon. Ephraim. Was Charlotte married to Ephraim Marsh? Surely there had been another Praetorian named Ephraim? She searched the journal entry for a date but found none. She flipped through several pages, her eyes scanning quickly until finally there was an entry dated June 16, 1922. Bree blinked and read the date again. She turned back to the front of the journal. C.M. Charlotte Marsh? She wondered if it could really be. The dates made sense. Ephraim’s wife had been killed in 1923 and he’d been fighting the Praetorians ever since. Bree scrambled to her feet, book in hand. She quickly walked toward the library’s exit, wondering if it was too late to go talk to Lydia. A glance at the clock on the wall showed her that it was well past time for James to be sleeping and she didn’t want to disturb the boy. She decided to find Lydia and ask her about the book tomorrow. For tonight, she would take it back to her quarters and read more.

  She made her way to her room quickly. She couldn’t explain her morbid curiosity. This journal was nearly a hundred years old and had likely been written by Ephraim Marsh’s late wife. The wife of the man who wanted her dead. She found herself intensely curious about what kind of woman could love him. If she were honest with herself, she also wanted to know more about Ephraim. Who had he been before Charlotte’s death? The man in her nightmares was a far cry from the man who’d written the message in the front of the journal. Bree had to know more. What had happened to turn him into such a monster?

  She kicked off her shoes and settled onto the couch, folding her legs beneath her. She stared at the book in her hands for a full minute before she finally gave in and opened it. She flipped to the page she’d left off on and began to read Charlotte’s words.

  74 days have passed. Ephraim has been away for nearly half of our marriage. I know how important his work is to him. To everyone. I know that he believes in what he’s doing. I never realized how alone a person could feel in a place filled with people. I have everything I could want and I’m surrounded by friends and family. But the one person I long to be near is half a world away. I’d thought after the end of the Great War that we’d no longer have to say goodbye but Ephraim has found other battles to fight. I love him for his sense of justice and fairness. Being his wife has made me prouder than I can say, but I’ll admit to a small amount of jealousy. I long to have him to myself. For now, though, I must continue to share him with those who are so desperately in need of saving.

  Bree found herself lost in Charlotte’s daily life, her sadness and longing, her love for her husband. As she read late into the night, it became easier to picture the Ephraim of Charlotte’s journal. He was kind, romantic and thoughtful. He doted on his new wife, bringing her gifts from his travels, surprising her with romantic picnics. Charlotte wrote about her daily life with great detail and Bree found it all fascinating. The Ephraim of her nightmare seemed to be an entirely different man and she suddenly realized that she’d begun thinking of him as such.

  Disgusted with her own thoughts, she closed the book and set it on the arm of the couch. What was wrong with her? Ephraim Marsh was a monster who had killed hundreds of Praetorians over the years. She shouldn’t be thinking of him as anything other than an enemy who needed to be stopped. If he were here right now, she knew that he’d kill her in an instant and probably smile while doing it. She’d lived that scenario in her dreams more times than she could count. Shaking her head, she vowed to push all thoughts of Ephraim, Charlotte and the journal from her mind. Checking the time, she realized that she’d lost several hours engrossed in reading Charlotte’s words. She moved to stand. Unable to help herself, she took another long look at the journal before forcing herself to turn away and walk to her bedroom.

  Chapter 16

  Declan twisted the top off his third beer and leaned back, making himself more comfortable on Corbin’s couch. The three of them had been talking about nothing of importance for the last hour. They seemed to have reached some sort of unspoken agreement to not discuss Pax’s injury or what Cole had said about the mission. Declan knew the time would come when they couldn’t avoid it, but for now it seemed they were taking a vacation from the war. He wondered where Bree was. Stop it! He immediately chastised himself for letting his thoughts drift to her again.

  He forced himself to laugh at a joke Rowan had just made. He wasn’t sure what the man had said but Corbin was laughing so he joined in. Corbin seemed like a completely different person when Sawyer wasn’t around. Declan marveled at the change. In training, he was quiet, serious, at times hostile. Tonight however, he was talkative, telling stories of the things he and Rowan had done as kids, laughing at their childhood antics. For the first time, Declan thought that maybe Corbin was someone he could be friends with.

  “But then Sawyer ran straight home and told my dad what we’d done,” Rowan was saying. “She knew I was hurting more than I let on. But she also knew I wasn’t going to tell him.” He laughed. “My dad’s a nice guy but he didn’t put up with his son disobeying him.” Declan noticed Corbin’s expression change at the mention of Sawyer. He wasn’t blind. He knew there was something between the two of them and it wasn’t good. Declan tried to change the subject.

  “What happened?” he asked. “Was your dad pissed?”

  Rowan laughed again and took a swig of his beer. “Oh, yeah,” he said. “I got lectured the whole way to Medical, the whole time I was getting x–rays and the whole time they were putting the cast on my arm.” He chuckled again. “Turns out Sawyer was right about me needing a doctor. She even wrote it on my cast. ‘Sawyer is always right.’ Smart ass.” Corbin’s gaze had grown even harder. Rowan glanced up and noticed it immediately.

  “Come on, man!” he said, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. “What the hell is wrong with you? Now I can’t even say her name around you?” He leaned forward and put his beer bottle on the table with a solid thump. “She’s my sister and you’re my best friend! Chances are you’re going to hear about her from time to time. You need to get over this shit.”

  Corbin made a choked sound. “You don’t know anything about it, Ro,” he said. “Just stay out of it.”

  Rowan threw up his hands. “Tell me, then!” he shouted. “Talk to me.” When Corbin didn’t say anything, he stood and shook his head. “Oh right,” he said, his tone scornful. “I forgot. You don’t talk to anyone anymore. Good luck with that.” When Corbin remained silent, Rowan sighed and stood. “I think it’s time I went home,” he said. He walked to the door, turning back before he opened it. “Corbin, you have to talk to someone eventually. This isn’t going to work forever.” Corbin still didn’t respond. Rowan shook his head again, but this time he looked sad, tired. “I’ll see you later,” he said quietly before he left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Declan and Corbin sat in silence for several minutes, drinking their beers. Declan thought maybe he should leave too. He was trying to come up with a reasonable reason for leaving when Corbin surprised him by speaking.

  “Sometimes knowing someone your whole life is a pain in the ass,” he said. “They know all your shit and they always call you on it.” He stared down at the beer in his hand and sighed. “The three of us grew up together. Here. Running the halls as kids until we were old enough to join the fight. We got into trouble all the time.” One corner of his mouth turned up br
iefly before his expression changed to one of sadness. “It was really the four of us. Me, Rowan, Sawyer and Stella.” He looked up and met Declan’s gaze. “Stella was Gwynn’s daughter. Sawyer’s best friend.” He glanced toward the door Rowan had so recently walked through. He sighed and looked back down at his hands before he spoke again. “She was killed on a mission. It wrecked us all. Especially Rowan.” Declan wasn’t sure what to say to this. He could see the pain reflected in Corbin’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what had made Corbin decide to speak to him, but he knew Rowan was right. Corbin needed to talk to someone. He kept silent and let him speak.

  “A couple months after Stella, nothing had changed. We hadn’t made any headway on finding Ephraim. We were always playing defense. I wanted to be more aggressive, take the fight to them,” he said. “I pitched the mission. Tess and Liam took my side. That was our team back then. Tess, Liam, Sawyer, me, Stella. Until we lost Stella.” Corbin looked back down at his hands and cleared his throat. “Sawyer advised caution, more planning and recon. Turns out she was right, but I wouldn't listen.”

  He laced and unlaced his fingers, continuing to study them as he did so. His dark brows drew down low over his icy gray eyes. Declan watched as his jaw clenched. Corbin sighed before continuing. “She tried to talk me out of it. We argued. I got the others to help push her into our way of thinking. Eventually, she caved. She could see we were determined to go, so she came along. I don't remember much from that night. Bits and pieces.” His eyes took on a faraway look as though he was searching for something in his mind. His expression was almost pained. Declan didn't say anything. He knew Corbin needed to get this out. After another minute, he began to speak again.

  “We had info that Ephraim's people had a safe house nearby. That they were using it as a temporary base while they waited for orders. They were supposed to be a bunch of newbies. It should have been easy. It was a trap, of course. Sawyer was right but by the time we realized that, it was too late. We tried to fight our way out. I remember we got separated. I don't know what happened next. Every time I try to focus on any details, it slips away. It's all just flashes of dark rooms and smoke. People were running. Bullets firing. Blood. Someone was screaming. There was an explosion. Then nothing. I woke up almost 2 months later in the infirmary. I didn't know how much time had passed or where I was or if Sawyer was…” He broke off and cleared his throat again. “I didn’t know if any of the team was alive or not. I kind of flipped out for a little. They sedated me again. When I woke up the next time, Rowan told me that Sawyer was okay. She was the only other one who made it out. Liam and Tess...” He broke off and shook his head.