“Oh, I have time for this,” he said with mild amusement.
Taran looked up from a document he was writing and rubbed a finger along his brow.
“What can I do for you, Elian?”
I ground my teeth, trying to ignore the anger I was feeling so I could speak calmly. “I’m here about Seren and the information you gave me before you sent me to her.”
“I see. Have you discovered something noteworthy?”
I glanced to Dagda, who rose his brows by way of urging me on, then looked back to the king. He looked exhausted, careworn, and I wondered what could possibly have happened to affect him so badly.
“Elian?” he prompted when I’d been silent for a few moments.
“Yes. I believe so.” I glanced back to Dagda before continuing. “I was wondering why you didn’t mention the fact that she was with child when she died.”
Dagda crossed an ankle over his knee, resting an arm behind his head as I finished speaking, then looked to Taran, cocking a questioning brow.
Taran looked at him and squared his jaw before answering. “It was suspected, but never confirmed.”
I glared at him in disbelief. “Isn’t that the sort of thing that should be confirmed?” I asked.
“No,” he said curtly. “Her story is her own to tell. She has never divulged this information before, and it holds no bearing on her ability to perform the task at hand. May I ask how you came by the information?”
“Yes, it most certainly does. There have been complications and we have had to work through them in order to complete her task” I explained, holding his gaze. “It turns out that the demon in question is in fact the demon that killed her. We discussed it. She told me the only reason the incubus, Kern, killed her was because her body was already in use. This has affected her ability to perform the task at hand.”
He at least had the grace to look away. I glared at him for several moments before he responded. “I did warn you not to become attached to the girl, Elian. It will only make it more difficult for you when she is to return home.”
“What home?” I snapped, irked by his condescension. “There’s nothing left. What do you plan to do with her when she’s done?”
“I explained at our last meeting, Elian. We hope to restore the tree, so that she may return.”
I clenched my fists. “And if she doesn’t want to? Hasn’t she done enough?”
“She has nothing to stay for.”
I looked to Dagda, imploring him to back me up, but he only averted his eyes and I turned back to Taran, furious.
“No? What do you know of her? Of her wants, hopes, dreams? Did you ask her?” I said as evenly as I could. “She’s had enough time to lament the life she lost. What if she wants a new one? What if she never wanted any of this and only serves because she has no other choice? Doesn’t she deserve what we have? Friends, family, someone to talk to? She’s been alone for all this time while you’ve lived a full life.”
“That is not for us to decide, Elian.”
His dismissive tone riled me. I was angry before, but now? If I wouldn’t lose my head for the act, I would have beat him to a pulp.
Fighting to remain steady, I said, “No, it should be for her to decide. But instead, she lives a life of slavery. A prisoner in a tree that your people tend, Taran!”
“The Mother—”
“Do not speak to me of The Mother. What mother does that to her child?” I said with disgust.
Taran gawped at me, horrified that I’d speak ill of her. “It is not your place—”
“To advocate for someone being so disgustingly treated that she isn’t afforded the very basic rights we work to provide for her people? If I don’t question it, who will? I refuse to sit back and watch you use her like this. She is a human being, Taran.”
He opened his mouth to respond and closed it again, looking to Dagda, who simply shrugged his shoulders and looked at me. When he failed to respond, I continued.
“She has the chance to be free and you sit up here, never having bothered to speak to the girl, to get to know her, all while planning to rebuild her prison. Meanwhile, she hunts an intruder in the realm that you are oath bound to protect. Not her, Taran. You. You’re then perfectly happy to send your demon slayer back to watch and wait in isolation until she’s needed again. No. I won’t let you.”
Dagda snorted, but didn’t speak, and Taran shot him a furious glance before turning to me and saying, “She is not yours to claim, Elian.”
“I don’t wish to claim her, Taran. Aren’t you listening? She doesn’t belong to anyone. I want her to have the freedom to choose her own fate. As we do. If you were to tire of the responsibility of your role here, you would pass the crown down to Dagda. If I wish to leave my duties and join the human community, to live as one of them, I can. Whenever I wish to. What choice does she have? She’s brought forth, expected to hunt and kill for us, then she’s escorted back. It isn’t right.”
Taran sagged in his seat, I assumed seeing my point. Whether he agreed with my stance was another matter, but he at least accepted my point of view. “What do you propose?” he asked. “That we fail to return her? What then? What if The Mother takes her regardless? If she dies because she has long since passed her natural life span?”
“I propose that you let her decide for herself. She asked for salvation, not to be taken into slavery. If The Mother strikes her down, or takes her against her will, then we know her true nature and how she repays two thousand years of servitude.”
Taran looked at Dagda, who shrugged again, before rising from his seat. “I’ll take what you’ve said into consideration, Elian. Is there anything else?”
Accepting the dismissal, I bowed my head slightly. “No. Thank you for your time,” I said, turning and striding from the room.
Dagda was right behind me and I walked a few meters away from the study door before turning to him and blowing out a tense breath.
“You did well,” he whispered, gripping my shoulder and escorting me home.
“What’s wrong with him? He didn’t look well,” I said as we arrived in the foyer of my building.
Dagda pressed his lips into a tight-lipped smile. “We lost her. Yesterday. Everyone’s a bit shaken up. Cal…the kids…they’re a mess. I’ve seen some shit in my time, and what happened is worse than all of that combined.”
“Fuck…”
He clapped me on the back. “Hey, you weren’t to know. You’ve been busy handling this shit storm. Is she okay?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, looking up as though I would see her standing there. “She seems to be, then she goes quiet or freezes under pressure…she’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to spend some time with my girlfriend. If you need me for anything, you have my number. Saves alerting the palace.”
I nodded and shook his hand. “Cheers, mate. I appreciate it. Pass my condolences on, won’t you?”
He gave a solemn nod and vanished.
I didn’t go up to her. I needed some time, so I went into the gym.
Retrieving my knives from the target, I began systematically throwing them from the outer, to the inner marks. When my hand was empty, I began again. Over and over, I repeated the exercise while I considered everything Taran had said.
Suspected, but never confirmed. They knew. It was kept from me for that very reason.
But if they suspected I would take pity on her, why assign me to the task of shepherding her in the first place? Was there really no one else?
I’d made my feelings very clear. I would not enter a personal contract with Avalon. I would not play the part my uncle and other members of my family had for generations. I was not interested. I would not die for them.
I’d chosen a different path, still tending The Mother’s creations, caring for her creatures as every other Druid. I just did it my way. Was it much different than the roles the others chose? I didn’t think so.
I wouldn’t let them send her back. If she
wished to go, I’d say goodbye, otherwise, I’d fight for her freedom. Using a human slave to protect her own race from the horrors a demon would inflict on them was beyond ironic. I would not let them do that.
Not just to her. I wouldn’t allow it to happen to anyone. Although, I had to admit, I had more selfish reasons for taking my argument directly to the king.
When I got back, she was exactly where I’d left her. I noticed the cakes were gone as she looked up at me and smiled. It was there again: that look of relief; joy that I was home. I grinned back, ignoring the feeling of regret, and pushing it away before she noticed. “Thanks for saving me one,” I said as I dumped my jacket on the arm of the sofa and headed to the kitchen.
“You didn’t say you wanted one. I remember quite clearly; your instructions were to stuff my face.”
I smirked, keeping my back to her. “Tea?”
“Please. Where did you go?”
I considered lying. Telling her I’d been with a friend or at a meeting…“I went to Avalon.”
She was quiet for a moment, then asked, “Why?”
“Updates. They’ve had a bereavement, so I won’t be going back for a couple of weeks now.”
I knew I should have told her, but couldn’t find the right words. It wasn’t untrue. I had gone for an update and there had been a bereavement.
“Oh…”
I delivered her tea and sat beside her. I itched to touch her, to take her hand and tell her where I’d been, what was said, why I had done it. Instead, I said, “We’ll be going out early tomorrow, so we’ll need an early night.”
“Okay,” she said, smiling over at me. “Today was tiring, anyway. I did enjoy myself though.”
Tomorrow won’t be much different.
I hoped some time with the people at the centre, seeing and speaking with the very people Kern was preying on, would give her the strength to overcome her issues with him.
Seventeen
Seren
The centre Elian worked at wasn’t far from home, so we walked in. He’d said the various emotions I’d experience there would be like the overpowering ones I’d experienced at the steelworks. He hoped a lower concentration would help me. I was curious about these people and wanted to meet them, to help in any way I could. I didn’t imagine I could do much in my short time there, but I hoped I could make a small difference.
The morning was clear and bright, and the walk was pleasant. As we passed through the city, I was sure not to reach for him, to link his arm, or hold his hand. Instead, I focused on the pigeons strutting along the footpaths, squabbling over scraps of food they’d scavenged, or looked up at the fluffy clouds in the sky, and admired the architecture of the old buildings as we passed. On my last visit to the city, it hadn’t half as many as there were now. Some of the older ones looked vaguely familiar, but so much had changed. When I had lived, we had small shelters made from rock and mud, roofed with rushes and peat. The advancements in technology were a marvel to me. I was growing fond of this place, despite the lack of open space and greenery.
“You’re quiet this morning,” Elian remarked as we turned down a street lined with stone built townhouses.
“I don’t mean to be,” I said apologetically. “I was enjoying the city. It really is beautiful, in its own way.”
He smiled, slowing his pace, and looked up at one of the houses. “This is it.”
“It doesn’t look very big,” I said, following his gaze.
He pushed open the front door and tilted his head, inviting me inside.
“It’s connected to the one next door, so big enough for what we need,” he explained. “Hot showers, somewhere to wash clothes, freshly cooked meals, a few rooms to catch up on sleep for an hour or two. There are a couple of offices for job and home searching, sorting out financial help, that sort of thing.”
I nodded, following him down the narrow hallway. It was cleanly decorated in pastel blue, and the only furniture was a small table holding an array of leaflets and a potted plant.
The one door at the far end of the hall opened into a large lounge. Black leather sofas piled with comfortable pillows were arranged around the room, numerous bookcases lined the walls, and a big television all made it feel like Elian’s lounge at home. The sizeable windows were draped with thick curtains, pictures hung on the wall, a vivid array of colour arranged in abstract patterns. “One of the guys does those,” Elian remarked, noticing me admiring them. “He’s really talented.”
We passed through the lounge into a large dining room. It looked and smelled more like a café, I thought, with the tables arranged around a shuttered hole in the wall. Elian knocked on one of the shutters and it swung open to reveal a flustered woman at the other side.
“Wondered where you’d run off to,” she said in greeting. “Make yourself useful. Get some tea made.” Then she disappeared, obviously busy.
He glanced back to me and rolled his eyes before entering the kitchen. “I’ve been busy, Deb. I’ve brought a friend with me today. Seren. She’s working with me for a few weeks.”
She reappeared at the small window, grinning at me. “Hiya! Sorry, I’m a bit behind in here.”
“Do you need any help?” I asked.
“You can butter some rolls for me,” she called. “Come in and wash your hands. There’s a pinny on the back of the door.”
I entered through the same door Elian had, into a large kitchen laid out with shiny steel work surfaces and appliances. A huge cooker dominated the back wall, trays lined up on the unlit burners waiting to be filled. Elian was at a sink, transferring water from a huge cylinder into a smaller canister and as my gaze passed over the room I noticed a smaller sink to my right. I hurried over and washed my hands. I had no idea what a ‘pinny’ was, or how to use it, so I looked at the back of the door hoping to find a clue.
I felt his presence behind me as I dried my hands. “The aprons are on the back of the door. Over your head, tie around the back,” he murmured, before heading out into the dining room with his large black container. With a weak smile of thanks, I put the paper I’d used to dry my hands in a small bin and moved to the door.
Donning the pinny, I made my way over to Deb and said, “Where do you need me?”
She grasped a bread roll and cut into its narrow edge. Opening it up, she placed the serrated knife on the board before her and picked up a small blunt one. She dipped it into a deep white container and scooped up a congealed yellow substance, spreading it inside of the roll, then closed it and placed it on a large tray to her right.
Repeating the action with a fresh roll, she said, “If you can carry on with this, I can get the breakfasts in the oven. They’ll be here soon, and I don’t like keeping them waiting. They need to eat and get cleaned up.”
I nodded and smiled as she bustled over to the large cooker and I began my task.
“What do you do then?” she called over her shoulder as she opened huge packs of bacon and sausages, arranging them on the waiting trays.
“Umm, I…”
“She’s working for a missing person’s charity, Deb,” Elian said, returning to the kitchen.
“Ah, I see. Elian, will you put those sauces out for me, love?” she asked, glancing his way. “How did you end up working together?”
“Elian was assigned as my assistant,” I said with a smirk, concentrating on spreading the rolls.
I heard him snort. “Yeah. I’m her assistant, Deb,” he agreed with a chuckle. “We both had today off, so I asked if she’d like to come and help out here for the morning.”
“Aww,” she said, slamming the trays of meat into the oven and hurrying over to the sink. “That’s nice of you to give up your day off. When those rolls are done, can you cover them in Clingfilm and pop them out on the table out front, love?”
I nodded, wondering what Clingfilm was. Elian passed me with another large canister of hot water, tapping an oblong box on the wall.
“How did you get into this sort of work?” De
b asked, taking a place at the silver bench a few feet from me and opening large tin cans with an odd device attached to its edge.
“I, um, I was hurt by someone a very long time ago. I spend my time trying to help others who are hurt, or lost, or…” I looked to her, not sure if she understood.
Deb nodded, apparently understanding my meaning. “Yeah. Me, too. It’s the least we can do, isn’t it? Recover and help others.” Then she smiled, and added, “I’ve been here five years now. Started off at the other side of that hatch, but Elian helped me. He was new here. Didn’t have half the experience he has now, but he got me right.”
I covered the rolls with the odd, clear plastic as I listened. Elian stuck his head through the hatch and said, “Anything else, Deb, or can I go and sort the office?”
“Did you put milk and sugar out? No? Then there’s something else, isn’t there?” she said in exasperation, setting a hand on her hip.
“You get more bad tempered every morning,” Elian grumbled as he pulled containers of milk from the fridge and took three silver bowls from a cupboard.
“You’ve been doing this long enough to know what needs done,” she chided and smiled. “Go on. Me and Seren can sort the rest.”
She turned to me and rolled her eyes, pouring a bright orange, lumpy food into several large containers. “Can you wash your hands again, get some mushrooms out of that fridge, and give them a good wash in that sink there?” she asked, covering the containers, and carrying the tins to the dustbin. “How long are you here for?”
“I’m not sure. As long as it takes, I suppose. I have someone to find. I have a good idea where they are, it’s just a case of narrowing it down now.” It was a relief to speak honestly.
“And Elian’s helping with that?”
“Yes, he’s been very helpful. He’s a good man,” I said quietly, turning on the tap.
“Don’t let him hear you say that! His ego is swollen enough,” she chuckled. “Nah, he’s a good lad. A bit quiet, but he’s good at what he does. He’s saved more lives than I can count, and that’s only since I met him.”
The Elder Mother Page 12