Everything around him ceased, as though suspended in time: no sound—no movement—save for one. He finally felt its presence.
‘It’s here!’ he whispered, drawing his sword.
Reece searched through the motionless crowd, until his eyes were met by another’s, staring wildly back at him. He could see it now: the unknown source, in its true form.
The Watcher.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The crowded Inn seemed to suspend itself in time, failing to notice the two figures staring at one another.
‘Can you not see it?!’ Reece cried out, through the eerie silence.
The creature stood taller than Reece, its luminescent, pale skin glowing as bright as the moon. Its oval face was one of perfected beauty. The creature’s wide eyes were of the blackest onyx and shone like mirrors. Its hair, matching its eyes, hung down its long, slender back—tied in a single tail. If it wore clothing, he could not tell through its ghostly appearance.
Reece glanced round in disbelief. Are you all blind?
As the creature unexpectedly raised its thin hand to beckon him, the Dhampir lunged over the Inn’s counter, before pointing his blade at its throat. With eyes blazing, he snarled into its tranquil face, exposing his sharp teeth.
‘You cannot kill that which is already dead!’ it whispered into his ear. There was a hint of sadness attached to its peaceful tone.
Reece swiftly stepped back, keeping his sword propped towards his target. He glared at the creature, baffled by its words. ‘You are not a—’
‘Thankfully, no,’ it replied, maintaining an unperturbed stare on its attacker.
‘Are you the one who watches them?’
The creature paused, contemplating its answer. ‘Somewhat.’
‘Then what are you?’ Reece snarled, through gritted teeth.
The creature smiled warmly, impressed by his assailant’s tenacious ability to defend those he loved.
‘Do not try my patience… creature.’
‘I am not what you presume.’
‘If so,’ said Reece, maintaining his grip on his sword, with uncertainty, ‘then I suggest you share your secret, now.’
‘Reece?!’
The Dhampir failed to notice the familiar voice calling him, as the resurgence of life returned to the Inn. ‘Who are you?!’ he persisted, his voice loud and threatening.
Looking over Reece’s shoulder, the creature’s enigmatic smile found another’s.
‘You have toyed with my patience long enough. Now tell me—’
‘Don’t harm him!’
The Dhampir turned promptly, to be met by the stunned silence of every individual staring at him, horrified by his actions. He glanced back at the creature before facing his audience again. It was evident, their eyes failed to witness what he saw.
‘Lower your sword, Reece,’ the soft voice implored.
Reece looked down at the outstretched hand. His mouth fell when he saw the worrisome expression on his wife’s face, begging him to stop. Distracted by her mother’s voice, Rosalyn tore herself away from her heated discussion with Gill, to be by her side.
‘What is it?’ she asked, unaware her son had accompanied her, alerted to the disturbance.
‘’Tis nothing,’ said Onóir, dismissing the incident with her hands.
‘Are you blind?!’ Reece cried, sensing his rising frustration.
The effect of his fuelled anger began to unfold. Some grew uneasy by the strangers’ assault on their favourite Landlord, casually seizing what they had paid for, before discreetly leaving.
Whereas, the curious few—Alastair Boyd, and his cronies—quite happily remained fixed to their seats. ‘Do ye think the troubles are starting up again?’ he said to them.
Hearing Alastair’s remark, Reece threw him a scathing glance, forcing the old man to recoil.
Growing increasingly irritated by their naivety, Reece yelled out: ‘Can you not see it?!’ he said, pointing to the creature with his sword.
Gill drew closer with an air of discretion. As he did so, Rosalyn caught the sly movement of his hand, realising her son also concealed a weapon—the glint of the familiar pommel, alerting her to the fact, he had smuggled it from the house. He had evidently seen her return it to Eleanor’s coffer. His sister would be furious. She moved to retrieve it, but the distraction of her mother’s continuous appeals to Reece, heightened her concerns.
Confused by her father’s altercation, Rosalyn stepped forward. ‘Reece,’ she began. ‘This is Kai… whom I spoke of.’
The Dhampir drew back. ‘This is your…’ He shook his head, unconvinced.
Kai passed a troubled look to Onóir; it did not go un-noticed. Rosalyn now grew suspicious, sharing in her father’s confusion.
‘Please, withdraw your sword,’ Onóir begged, concerned for Kai’s identity.
But the Dhampir’s refusal to back down, brought with it grave concern, disturbing his spectators.
‘He is of no danger to us, my love,’ she insisted. ‘Please, Reece… you have my word.’
Ignoring his wife’s pleas, he turned to his alleged victim once more. ‘They cannot see what I see. Reveal your true form creature or I shall do my best—despite what you say—to try and kill you… again.’
‘Again?’ echoed Rosalyn. She turned to her mother. ‘What does he mean?’
Onóir shrugged, shaking her head.
Reece glared at his wife. She knows! he quickly realised. ‘Make it show its true form, Onóir,’ he demanded.
All eyes turned on the old woman.
‘Maw?’ urged Rosalyn.
Keeping its poise, the creature looked at Onóir as though seeking her approval. The Inn held on to the breath of all who watched and waited. They lingered in anticipated silence as the seconds dragged on, observing every motion. Onóir’s shoulders dropped in defeat. Closing her eyes, she then nodded with esteem, towards her family’s close friend.
Kai, the one who had fought against the odds to be accepted by society, stepped away from Reece, having felt the hurt of being called “creature”. He was anything but. He glanced at the threatening Broadsword suspended before him, knowing it could do him no harm.
Looking away, he now regarded the well-known faces peering at him, from across his counter. For years he had served them well. And now it pained him to see their questioning eyes and hear the suspicions in their whispers. There, in his own safe-haven, Kai Aitken prepared to be judged, yet again, only now by the people who had initially accepted him into their lives.
‘You have no need of it,’ Onóir whispered to her husband, urging him to withdraw his weapon.
‘Show yourself!’ he demanded, disregarding her. He was taking no chances.
All those present—save for one—fell witness to the slow manifestation of the Spectre. As Kai reluctantly uncovered his true form, his saddened eyes followed the gasps of disbelief being shared among his onlookers. Aware of their mounting tension, he looked to Onóir for guidance.
‘There is nothing to fear of him,’ she stated, addressing the nervous few who thought themselves brave, by remaining. It was the uncertainty of not knowing what might happen, that played on their imaginations. For too long they had languished in the welcoming atmosphere of their kind-hearted landlord. And now, with the risk of violence looming over them once more, it filled them with dread.
Word of the strange, ghostly apparition spread rapidly beyond the Inn. People outside clambered over one other, straining to see through its small windows. For once, they resisted the temptation to venture over the all-too-familiar threshold.
Gill stepped out in front of his mother, brandishing Eleanor’s dagger.
Onóir scowled at her grandson in disgust. ‘How dare you, Gillis Shaw!’ she cried.
‘Come away from it,’ Rosalyn urged her mother.
‘Ghost! Ghost!’
The ghastly word quietly resonated, until one brave voice cried; ‘Aye, ’tis a ghoul!’
‘No! ’tis a d
emon!’ a woman’s voice added, from a dark corner, keeping her face hidden. The woman of age—who had been entertaining another’s young husband—then scrambled from the concealment of their little snug, escaping for fear of her life, leaving behind her misconduct.
Panic immediately followed suit. Onóir glimpsed the sudden sea of hysteria as it unfolded before her very eyes. Rosalyn’s hand continued to reach out to her, still warning her to, “come away from it”. Reece remained staunch, his sword now more threatening than ever. Onóir felt sickened by their ignorance. And yet, only one remained tranquil throughout: their creature—their ghost—her Kai.
‘Enough!’ she cried, above the chaos, exasperated.
The fury in the defence of her close friend dropped an unexpected heavy silence on the Inn. All and sundry stopped and stared at the frail, old woman.
‘Why do you defend it?’ Rosalyn sneered.
In a sinister move, Gill inched closer to his grandmother with intent. ‘This is the Watcher,’ he insisted.
Onóir shook her head in defiance.
‘Is this true, maw?’ Rosalyn insisted, preventing her mother from any explanation. ‘We invited him—it into our lives—our home, and all the while we have been fooled by this… creature’s façade.’
‘Do not call him that!’ Onóir returned, gripped by rage. ‘You will call him, Kai!’
Gill lowered his head with contempt. ‘I think not,’ he muttered.
Reece looked sharp, alerted to the same threatening tone the young man had used towards his mother, that morning. He leapt forward, refusing to stand by and let Gill use it against another—regardless of his future role.
Gill jolted at the suddenness of Reece’s swift movement—the Dhampir now standing within inches of him.
‘Step away!’ Reece warned.
Gill held his stance, unprepared to back down. As they eyed one another, their audience struggled to hear the heated conversation between them.
‘You are not yet the Magus, Gill. Until then, you do as I say.’ The Dhampir’s searing eyes burned into Gill’s with deadly aim. ‘Do I make myself clear?’
Unperturbed, the young man paid no heed, forcing himself past Reece—the unearthly strength of his force throwing the Dhampir off his guard.
Kai recoiled as Gill rushed forward, his face flushed and distorted in anger.
‘Spy on us, will you!’
Reece recovered instantly, only to find himself defending the creature.
‘No, Gill!’ Onóir was now straining to be heard. ‘You cannot kill him!’
Ignoring his grandmother, he lunged forward, prepared to drive the dagger through it. ‘He is not—’
‘Stop!’
Gill felt nothing as he passed through the apparition, without causing it harm. Gripping him from behind, Reece forced Gill back to the ground. Shocked by what had just happened, the young man sat staring up at the creature, in disbelief, as an uncertain silence engulfed the Inn.
Kai lowered his head in shame for having deceived them.
Slowly rising, Gill kept his wary eyes focused on the creature as it approached him. He drew back.
‘He is a messenger of the Elliyan,’ Onóir divulged, smiling at Kai. Her manner was apologetic to him, as voices whispered and hissed on hearing the anomalous name.
Rosalyn approached her mother in a state of utter confusion ‘He’s not the Watcher?’
Onóir turned to her daughter.
‘No, Rosalyn’—she hesitated, struggling to take a breath— ‘I am!’
Confused and startled faces stared down at the unsuspecting woman.
No one stirred.
Drowned by feelings of betrayal and mistrust, Onóir felt smothered by their stunned silence. Gradually she felt the old panelled walls of the Inn creeping in on her, along with their suspicions. Overwhelmed and exhausted, Onóir reached out for the hand of support, only to be met by prejudice.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Eleanor’s heart leaped when the door of their home flew open without warning. She had been in the process of lighting the evening fire. She spun, almost stumbling, her hand held firmly against her heart. As the sound of the door collided with a chair, it, too, alerted Tam and Asai, breaking their conversation in mid-sentence.
Gill stormed in, outraged, throwing himself into a chair like a spoiled child, moving awkwardly, feeling the discomfort of his sister’s dagger press hard against his thigh, as though in protest. He would return it, later. He then glared at Eleanor, his anger fuelling, having seen his sister in the Samurai’s company, yet again. He rolled his eyes, casting Asai a warning look.
Rising to question her brother’s mood, Eleanor paused, seeing the Dirk wedged into his belt.
Too late, he thought.
‘What are you doing with my—’
‘Not now!’ he snapped.
Tam shared a troubled look with Asai. Choosing to veer from a potential argument, between the siblings, a single motion of his head suggested they leave promptly. Brother and sister failed to notice their swift departure.
Eleanor moved to give her brother a piece of her mind, when Rave bounced through the open door, unannounced, making her jump again. She then knew something was afoot, when Rosalyn stormed in, in silence, and marched towards her parlour. She watched, slightly perturbed, as her mother then made her anger known, by the noisy preparations of their late meal, uttering words of warning to Rave to, “Leave it!”
‘Granmaw?!’ she cried, seeing Reece carry Onóir over the threshold, to her comfortable chair.
Ignoring the frosty atmosphere, Eleanor moved to attend to her grandmother, when she caught the lonely figure of Kai standing in the doorway, waiting to be invited in.
‘Kai? Are you not coming in?’ she asked, noting a sadness in his eyes.
‘He’s not wanted here!’ snarled Gill at their estranged friend.
Shocked, Eleanor gasped at her brother’s insolence towards him. She looked to her mother, waiting for her to scold her brother, but Rosalyn continued busying herself with supper.
‘As you wish,’ said Kai, turning to leave.
‘Wait!’
They turned to see Rosalyn standing with a ladle in her hand. Tears of cold broth fell in large droplets onto the floor, but were promptly cleaned up by Rave, who had kept a fixed eye on the utensil. ‘Close the door when you’—she sighed— ‘enter.’
Gill rose to protest but was knocked back by the sharpness of his mother’s glare. Closing the door on the approach of night, Kai entered the place he had regarded as his second home. At that moment, he felt like the disloyal member of the family who had adopted him as their own. He glanced at Onóir—the most loyal individual he had ever known—and forced a smile; though, it quickly fell from his face, when he sensed the hate emanating from Reece, who refused to leave his wife’s side.
‘I think someone had better start explaining,’ Eleanor demanded, glaring at them all.
Wary glances were passed around, reluctant to speak. Gill looked away as his sister caught his eye, while Rosalyn distracted herself by scolding Rave for nearly helping herself to their food.
‘Well?’ Eleanor insisted, folding her arms.
‘There must be no fighting among us,’ said Onóir, casting a warning look towards her husband and Gill.
‘Onóir is right,’ said Reece, turning to address them. ‘This is a crucial time for us, and whether we like it or not’—he paused, eyeballing Kai— ‘it seems we need each other.’
‘Did you know about Onóir?’ Rosalyn enquired, joining their company.
Reece stared at his daughter, puzzled, followed by looks of utter confusion from Eleanor.
‘Did you know she was the Watcher?’
‘No,’ he returned, glancing at his wife, slightly vexed. ‘I did not.’
‘Watcher?’ Eleanor echoed.
‘It appears our grandmother has been… spying on us,’ said Gill, in a scathing tone.
‘A spy?!’ she cried, disclaiming any
notion of the accusation, as she looked at her frail grandmother. ‘No! I don’t believe it!’
‘Aye, nor has she been alone in her activities,’ he added, casting a disloyal glance towards Kai.
Eleanor turned her attention to their friend—the man she also worked for. Watched carefully by her family, she moved quietly towards the lonely figure, who still hovered on their doorstep. Looking up, she noticed an expression of guilt and sadness on his innocent face, making her feel nothing but empathy towards him.
‘Nor is he human,’ Gill blurted.
Eleanor stepped back, stunned by her brother’s allegation, then regretted it immediately.
Tired of her grandson’s snide remarks, Onóir slammed her hand down on the arm-rest of her favourite chair. ‘No more!’ she cried. ‘Do you hear me, young man?!’
Gill jumped at the old woman’s sudden outburst, lowering his eyes with embarrassment.
‘Be mindful, Gillis Shaw, for that is what you still are—a young, naive man. You will continue to call him by his name—Kai. And you will treat him with the respect this family have always given. Kai is our ally—a friend of the highest regard.’
Reece turned his head slightly, smirking at his wife’s tenacity. And yet, with each outburst, he detected the weakening of her heart. The events of the day were taking their toll.
Aware of the signs of her failing health, Rosalyn went to her mother’s side to administer her much-needed medicine. Filled with apprehension, Kai looked on, concerned—knowing what to do yet afraid to intervene. And so, he waited…
Soon, the heightened tension evaporated as Onóir regained her breath once more.
‘’Tis true,’ she began, staring into their eager faces. ‘I am the “Watcher”, as you call it. And as for Kai?’—she smiled at her confident— ‘Well, he is… unique. He is of the Dreaocht.’
Gill sat up, suddenly interested. ‘“That which is unseen,”’ he stated, from memory.
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