by C.K. Bryant
Chapter Twenty Seven
When Altaria left the clearing with Toran, Kira felt relief. As much as she loved having Lydia as a friend, her kindred spirit was different.
“I wish Lydia wasn’t so mad at me,” Kira said. “I miss her.”
“She is not angry with you. I am the one she is hiding from.”
“Then why won’t she talk to me?”
Octavion placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “She knew what she was doing. She knew the boundaries we set for our safety.”
Kira’s mind wandered back to the day she’d erased all the photos of their picnic. The single picture she’d kept as a memento still hid in the box in her closet. “So, what if Shandira got a hold of one of Lydia’s photos, what then?”
“It depends. Lydia told me of her plan to put her photos on your computer or in a gallery to make money. I am sure Shandira is knowledgeable about your world and if she happened to stumble upon one of them, she could track it back to us.”
“But what if it wasn’t of Xantara? What if it was of Lydia up here on the mountain or at school?” She didn’t want to mention a picture of him, he’d guess to easily what she’d done.
Octavion thought for a moment. “It could still be dangerous.”
“How? I mean . . . I don’t understand how a simple picture could make a difference.”
“Remember I told you that I can travel anywhere, but that I had to see it in my mind first?”
Kira nodded.
“It is the same with a photograph. Shandira has perfected her ability to travel. Seeing an image on paper would be the same as seeing it as a memory, and she would be able to appear in that place instantly.” Octavion looked at her curiously. “Why do you ask?”
Kira couldn’t look him in the eye. “If that’s true, explain to me why you destroyed all of them.”
“She knew the boundaries,” he repeated, his voice raised just enough that Kira knew he was irritated with her for asking. “I had no choice.”
“You always have a choice.” Kira stepped over to the pile of fruit still lying in Lydia’s shelter, chose another apple and wiped it clean with her shirt. “You never did tell me where you get all this food. There’s always an abundance of it.” Maybe a change of subject would get the photos off his mind.
“Same way you do, for the most part. Lydia buys the cheese and some of the fruit. She has a baker in town make the bread how we prefer it. It is not as good as we have at home, but it is close.” A smirk flashed across his face. “I, um . . . find the rest.”
Kira glanced down at her apple then over her shoulder at the pile of fruit scattered on the ground. “What do you mean, ‘find the rest’?”
Octavion flashed one of his dimples, then walked over to get a piece of wood from the pile.
“Where do you get all this food?” Kira persisted.
He turned and shrugged—with empty hands. The fire wasn’t in need of any wood; he was obviously avoiding her question. “I help some of the farmers glean their crops.”
“Ha! You mean you steal from them.”
“No, I take the fruit and vegetables that are left by the pickers and machines. It would have all gone bad if I had not rescued them.” He flashed both dimples this time and winked.
Kira laughed. “That’s called stealing.” She took a big bite of her apple and began to chew. She stopped suddenly when one of her little brain blips popped into view. She could see the box from her closet on her bedroom floor, its contents scattered. A shiver ran up her arms and pricked at the back of her neck. She had to get that photo.
“Kira?”
She blinked hard, bringing herself back to the clearing. “Yeah. Umm . . . sorry, did you say something?”
He stepped closer. “No, but you look pale and—” He pointed to the ground in front of her feet.
Kira looked down at the apple that now lay in the dirt. “I’m fine, it just . . . has a worm in it.” She picked up the apple and pitched it into the fire. “I’m still kinda tired and my side is starting to bother me. Maybe I’ll rest.”
“Are you sure you are well, Kira?”
“Yeah.”
She turned toward Octavion’s lean-to. What she wanted was to put some distance between them for a while, figure out how to get that picture back and try to let everything he’d told her about the curse and his gifts sink in, but as she stood looking at his shelter, she realized something. Nothing here belonged to her, not even a place to lay her head. The fact that this was not her home hit her hard, and she was homesick—even if home was merely a symbol of her abandonment.
Kira looked down at her clothes. Her dirty jeans were shredded at the knees, her shirt had a tear on the sleeve and her shoes were muddy from standing near the creek. She didn’t even have a change of clothes. Maybe if she could convince him to take her home to get a few things, she could destroy the photo without him knowing. She had to try.
She turned in time to see him step to the fire and kick one of the logs, pushing it further into the pit. Sparks flew into the air and created a spiral of hot ash as it rose above their heads. The aroma of baked apple filled the clearing.
“Octavion?”
He looked up from the fire and their eyes met. “Did you need something?”
“I was wondering. Could you take me home to get my stuff? I have no clothes. I don’t even have a comb or toothbrush.” She stepped closer and put her hand on his shoulder. “It’s just—nothing here is mine. Can you understand that?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Kira. It is too dangerous to take you there. Have you forgotten so soon? You were nearly killed.”
Kira cringed. “I remember. I’ve played it over and over in my head so many times, I’ll never be able to forget.” She dropped her hand and fingered the Crystor, spinning it around her wrist. “I’ve put us all in danger because of my stupid mistakes.”
“Then how can you ask me to take you home?”
Kira searched his eyes for answers, but only found more questions. It was too dangerous, but so was taking the chance that Shandira might use the photo to find them. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “I just keep thinking about my house. I know it shouldn’t be important, but—you blew the front door right off the hinges and the back door is busted too. All my stuff is in there and it’s all I have left to my name. What if someone steals it or an animal gets in?”
Octavion paused for a long moment. He sighed. “I will go. Make me a list of what you need and where to find it. I will board up the house and retrieve your things.”
“Oh sure, that’s all I need is you rifling through my underwear drawer. If I can’t go, then . . . just forget it.”
“Kira, why do you have to be so stubborn? I said I would go.”
“Stubborn? I just said forget it. You’re right—it’s too dangerous. It was stupid for me to ask. It’s just, I thought if you took me, we could be back in five minutes—tops.”
“And how long did it take Bastian to put a blade to your throat?”
His words sent dark images flashing through Kira’s mind. She remembered Bastian’s hollow eyes and it made her insides quiver. She stepped back. “That’s not fair.”
“I’m sorry, Kira. You just don’t seem to realize the danger.”
“How can you say that? I was the one who felt his blade on my throat, remember? What I don’t understand is why we aren’t doing something about it. If we’re in that much danger, why don’t we pack up everything, and find a new place—one that’s safe?”
He turned his attention back to the fire. “Lydia would not go.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she told me. She wants to go back to Xantara, but we must finish this first. We will not take this battle home with us.”
“So you’re planning on fighting them here?” The very thought of meeting Bastian again terrified her. She didn’t know the first thing about fighting or using weapons. How was she supposed to survive something like that? “You have to teach me to
fight. I need to know how to protect myself. What if they come and you’re not here?”
His brow furrowed as he turned to face her again. “This is not your battle, Kira. I will not allow you to fight.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. What am I supposed to do, stand back and watch?”
Octavion went to her and took her face in his hands. His eyes were only inches from hers. “You will not fight, Kira. I will not lose anoth . . . You will not fight.”
Kira pushed his hands away. “This isn’t about me, is it?” The only person they’d mentioned dying besides their mothers was Serena, but how could the death of Lydia’s friend have such a lasting effect on Octavion—unless he’d done something to cause it. “Is this about Serena?”
The hurt look on his face made her regret mentioning her name. “What do you know of Serena? What has Lydia told you?”
“Nothing,” Kira said. “You’re the one that told me Serena died healing Lydia. She refuses to talk about it. What really happened? Why don’t you want me to know?”
“It is not my place to say.”
“If you’re afraid the same thing will happen to me, it is your place. I need to know what kind of danger I’m in.”
Octavion’s focus shifted from Kira’s face to something behind her. Then he went back to the fire. “Like I said, it isn’t my place to say.”
“Ugh. I hate when you do that. One minute you want me to stay here and be a part of all this, and the next you treat me like the outsider I really am. Why won’t you tell me?” When he didn’t answer—or even acknowledge her presence—she spun around to leave, only to be met with a familiar face.
“Because it isn’t his story to tell—it’s mine.” Lydia said. Her eyes appeared swollen and red like she’d been crying. “But first I must speak to my brother . . . alone.” She glanced at Kira and then looked away.
Octavion stepped closer, but stopped when Lydia took a step back. “Where would you like to go?” he asked.
“Your lair. I need to show you something.”
As Kira watched them leave the clearing, she felt that all-too-familiar sense of displacement. She didn’t belong here. Lydia’s words had made that very clear. Maybe Octavion was right about wanting to take her away. She’d made so many mistakes. If they had to come to her rescue again they would be risking their lives and that wasn’t fair to them. Perhaps leaving was the best option after all. As soon as Lydia finished with Octavion, Kira would ask him to take her away. Then she’d run—hide away so even they wouldn’t know where she’d gone.
A cool morning breeze brushed across her face, leaving her chilled. When she wrapped her arms around her torso, she caught a glimpse of the tiny strand of silver that still bound her to her friend. Its powers as a divining tool surely worked both ways and Lydia would easily find her.
She glanced around the clearing before spotting Altaria’s knife where it hung on her shelter. Kira pulled it from its sheath and placed it between her skin and the bracelet. With all the strength she could muster, she drove the blade upward. Pain instantly shot up her arm, but she kept the pressure on, determined to rid Lydia of the bond their friendship had put on both of them. As Kira increased the force of the blade, a scream rang out through the trees.
Kira, stop! Lydia’s thoughts entered Kira’s head, like she’d been shot with an arrow between the eyes. The pain ran across the top of her skull and down the back of her neck, before numbing her fingertips. The clearing grew still, shrouding her senses. She dropped the knife about the same time Octavion appeared in front of her.
“What are you doing?” He pulled her hand up to examine the Crystor, turning her wrist over, and spinning the tiny strand of silver around to make sure it was still in one piece. “Why would you do this?”
“I want it off.”
“Come with me.” Tightening his grip around Kira’s wrist, he gave it a yank as he pulled her through the forest.
“Octavion, stop!”
He turned to face her. “Shall I carry you?”
“No, just stop pulling on my arm, it hurts.”
As he loosened his grip, she gave in and walked freely by his side. They’d only gone a few feet when they passed several large boulders, stopping at the cave entrance. His lair, she thought to herself. It made sense, now that she knew about the curse that left him with the heart of a wild cat. Of course, he would call it that.
With the light of the sun shining through the opening, Kira could make out more of the cave’s contents. In addition to the bookshelves filled with dusty volumes of tattered papers, and his colorful display of bottles, there were old wooden crates, metal trunks, and textiles stacked along the back wall. Above them hung several weapons, most of which looked medieval, with their long sharp blades and leather strappings. To the right, a blanket draped the wall, she assumed to cover an opening that went deeper into the cave.
She took all this in with a quick glance, before turning her full attention to the small bench where she’d sat the night Octavion had shown her the Crystor.
Lydia sat holding her bloody wrist in her hand, tears streaming down her face. She said nothing, but Kira knew her stupidity had caused the injury. She pulled loose from Octavion’s grip and went to Lydia, taking her hand.
“Why?” Lydia asked, her face stained with fresh tears.
“I didn’t know. Do you think I hurt you on purpose?” Kira wished it was her wrist bleeding. She was the one that had made yet another stupid mistake. “I just feel so out of place here. Octavion says he wants to take me away from here. I thought you wanted me to leave. You’ve been so mad at me and wouldn’t talk about the pictures and—I’m in the way.”
Lydia looked up at Octavion, who stood next to them now. “You should have told her everything.”
A flicker of anger seeped under Kira’s skin as she stood and turned to face Octavion. “What didn’t you tell me?”
The muscles tensed across his shoulders, as if he were preparing for a fight. “The charm I placed on the Crystor does not allow you to change your mind. It is permanent . . . except in death. Removing it prematurely could cause both your deaths.”
“What? Don’t you think that was an important little detail? I could’ve just killed us.”
“If I thought you might go back on your word, I would have told you,” he snapped.
“Go back on my word? You mean the part where I said I would die for her? What’s wrong, Octavion? Did I mess up your little plan when I lived?”
“No. That is not what I am saying. You are not listening.” Octavion stepped closer and threaded his fingers through her hair. He took her other hand and placed it on his chest, making her heart slow a little. “Kira.” His voice seemed softer, with more emotion. “You are a part of us now. Lydia was all too eager to point that out to me. If you want to stay, we will teach you of our ways, but even if you choose to go, you will remain bound. There’s no going back.” He lowered his voice to almost a whisper. “I’m sorry. You are right. I should have told you the truth.”
His hand seemed so warm against her cheek, and she felt his heart beating beneath her fingers—his wild heart. She looked into his eyes for the longest time, searching for some kind of truth, some reason for her being there. Could she ever truly be a part of their world? Or would she continue to be a burden they simply tolerated? But the answer wasn’t in his eyes; it was in the constant rhythm of her heart, now beating in perfect harmony with his. She couldn’t leave. And it wasn’t just because she was bound to Lydia, either. Something she saw in Octavion’s eyes made her feel like she was home. Not that rental house where she’d lived with her mother, but someplace deep inside her heart that she’d never allowed herself to explore—and never allowed anyone else to enter. A feeling of belonging. And she liked that feeling very much.