Five: A Maor Novel (Maor series)

by Caroline Greyling

  ‘Hi Peter,’ Kael says. I give him a quick look of surprise, before I remember that the likelihood of them not having met in a town the size of Aylburton, is zero.

  ‘Kael.’ They shake hands, but it’s a tense exchange.

  ‘I see you survived the session with Mrs. Weirdo,’ Peter says, turning his attention my way.

  ‘Sshh!’ Kelly warns, coming up beside him and glancing in the direction of the doorway, ‘I wouldn’t say that too loud. Mrs. Whitcomb’s the teacher’s rep for the dance. She should be here any minute.’

  ‘You’re kidding,’ Peter says, ‘what happened to Mrs. K?’

  ‘Not sure. I heard Mrs. Weir – I mean – Whitcomb, insisted on being this year’s teacher’s rep.’

  ‘I hope she’s not going to interfere too much,’ Peter grimaces. ‘Mrs. K pretty much let us do what we want.’

  ‘Listen up, peeps!’ Michelle shouts to the room in general. The groups quiet and turn toward her.

  ‘Speak of the devil…’ Peter whispers.

  ‘Mrs. Whitcomb has generously agreed to be this year’s teacher’s rep for the spring dance.’ Michelle gestures toward the woman at her side and a few students give a half-hearted clap. Mrs. Whitcomb smiles and her eyes scan the room behind her lenses. It takes less than a second for her gaze to find me. It’s a brief meeting of gazes but I find myself burrowing closer to Kael side.

  ‘Right, if we could just discuss the preliminaries for the dance, Mrs. Whitcomb needs to leave shortly. We’ll finalize the festival prep afterwards. For starters, we need a theme. Any ideas?’

  ‘How about Cultures of the world?’ someone shouts.

  ‘We did that last year!’ another student replies.

  ‘Seventies?’

  ‘Cliché!’ is the collective response and a little argument ensues, until Michelle raises her voice.

  ‘Whoa, peeps! We need something fresh and different. Something fun and vibey.’

  There is a tentative silence and I bite my lip.

  ‘What about Sophiatown?’ I venture.

  All eyes turn to me.

  ‘Sophia – what?’ someone asks.

  ‘Sophiatown,’ I reply, ‘you know – the township?’ They all stare blankly at me and I sigh. ‘Never-mind.’

  ‘No, go on,’ says Peter, ‘is that a town in Africa?’

  ‘Um, it’s more than just a town,’ I say, ‘Sophiatown was one of the most vibrant black and coloured communities in South Africa until the Apartheid government forcefully relocated the residents to Meadowlands in the fifties. Sophiatown was like a living, breathing soul, with shebeens, jazz, afros, freedom and dancing.’

  ‘Well that sounds like a groovy theme,’ Michelle says, ‘what does everyone think?’

  ‘Cool,’ Kelly agrees, accompanied by other voices of assent, ‘but not everyone knows what Sophiatown is about.’

  Michelle nods.

  ‘We’ll have to do a marketing run-up then.’ She jabs her pen in my direction. ‘Shaylee, can you do some research and work with the graphics team on some posters?’

  ‘Um, sure,’ I say.

  ‘I’ll help,’ Mrs. Whitcomb says. ‘I know a little about South African history.’

  Michelle jots down our names on her clipboard.

  ‘Righto, let’s discuss catering. Kelly, I’m going to need you and Haley to get the hotel students on board. I am not going to outsource again – we don’t want a repeat of last year.’

  ‘You okay?’ Kael whispers into my ear as Michelle continues assigning tasks. I realize then that I’ve grabbed hold of his hand at my waist and am squeezing it tightly.

  ‘Fine…’ I say, forcing myself to ease the pressure on his hand but not letting go. I have no idea what’s making me so tense but Kael’s hand in mine and his arm around my waist feels comforting.

  Once the task teams have been appointed, Mrs. Whitcomb leaves, and the conversation turns to final arrangements for the upcoming weekend’s spring festival. Michelle assigns me to gate duty with her for the seven thirty shift on Saturday night, final preparations are completed quickly. Michelle dismisses the group, leaving us to chat.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll just go find my gate partner,’ Peter glances uneasily at Kael and breaks away from our little group. He walks across to the couch, where a small group of students are sitting together, laughing and sits down next to one girl, a pretty brunette with a shy smile.

  ‘Oh boy…’ Kelly says, ‘here comes trouble…’

  I look at Peter, who is flirting with the brunette and follow Kelly’s gaze across the room to Michelle, who is watching him too, with an odd expression on her face.

  ‘You know, I love my brother but sometimes, he can be such an ass.’ Kelly breaks away from us and heads off toward Michelle.

  ‘Ready to go?’ Kael asks.

  I nod and he guides me toward the doorway. I hesitate when we pass by Michelle and Kelly, but I don’t want to interrupt what looks to be a serious conversation, so I carry on past them without saying goodbye.

  ‘You okay? You seem uneasy,’ Kael says when we’re seated safely in his car.

  ‘I’m fine.…’ I say. Kael glances expectantly at me but since I don’t really know myself why I’m feeling edgy, I just shrug.

  ‘Are you coming to the festival?’ I ask.

  ‘Have you forgotten the rules already, Shaylee?’ Kael asks as he starts the car engine.

  ‘I know, where I go, you go,’ I say but this time, I don’t feel the resentment that usually accompanies those words.

  ‘I’ll be next door if you need me,’ Kael says when we stop outside my grandmother’s house. I nod and slide out of the truck but pause with my hand on the door handle.

  ‘Um, Kael?’ I say, tentatively ‘Thanks for going with me and for…everything.’

  There is a hint of surprise in his expression and he holds my gaze for a mili-second before looking forward again.

  ‘Just doing my duty,’ he replies. It’s a simple answer, one that I should expect from him, but as he drives off, I stand there, wondering why his words have left a hollow emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

  Chapter 43

  Festive

  Tastes like: Christmas cookies

  Smells like: Turkey, cooking in the oven

  Sounds like: Loud, chaotic chatter

  Feels like: Air beneath your feet

  Looks like: A garden, jam-packed with family and friends

  There is a definite air of festivity on campus tonight. Groups of students in torn jeans and sneakers stand beneath the floodlights; some munching on mini-donuts dunked in caramel; some flying by on roller-blades; and others engrossed in the fire-juggling torch act in the middle of the chalked field. The smell of deep-fried junk-food wafts on the evening air, accompanied by the rhythmic beat of a summer compilation the campus DJ is pumping over the sports sound equipment.

  ‘I’m starving!’ Michelle complains.

  We’ve been on gate duty since seven thirty and after an hour of breathing in the decadent odors of unhealthy food, my mouth too, is watering. I’m also pretty sure that the low grumble I’ve been hearing for the past ten minutes is coming from my stomach.

  ‘It’s almost eight thirty,’ I say to Michelle, glancing at the face of my watch in the dim light and then over at Kael, who stands silently in the shadows opposite the booth.

  ‘Why don’t you go on and get something to eat?’ I say. ‘Sandy and Peter will be here any minute now, I’m sure I can hold the fort till then.’

  ‘You sure?’ Michelle asks. She flashes a grateful smile when I nod and tucks her wallet into the tight back pocket of her frayed Levis.

  ‘Thanks, babe,’ she says, hurrying out of the booth into the milling crowd. I watch her go, see her look back anxiously from across the path and know there was more to her hasty departure than meets the eye. The mere mention of Peter’s name is enough to send her running. There’s history there, but I’ll wait for her to tell me when she’s ready
.

  Kael stirs from his post, stepping forward slightly so his face is half-lit by the light from the booth. I shake my head and he retreats once again into the shadows. I feel bad that he’s been standing there, just watching me the whole time. I did tell him to go and take a walk, but he refused.

  Two entrance ticket sales later and after numerous complaints from my stomach, Sandy and Peter arrive for duty, arms linked and heads bent close together. Thank goodness I sent Michelle off early.

  ‘Hi,’ Sandy says, blushing slightly as she extricates her arm from Peter’s and steps into the tiny booth. ‘Been busy?’

  ‘No, but I’m glad you’re here, I’m absolutely starving!’

  ‘You should try the Prego’s, they’re good,’ Peter says, squeezing past me into the tiny space behind the counter. I flinch back from him, although there really isn’t much room to move, and hand Sandy the float keys. ‘Running low on change but Kelly and Jarred said they’d bring some more. Tickets are in the bottom drawer.’

  Sandy nods and mumbles a ‘thanks’ but Peter is already leaning into her and I can’t get away quick enough. I rush out of the booth and head toward the shadows where Kael waits.

  ‘Please can we stop first at the nearest food stall before I pass out from hunger?’ I beg. Kael smiles and steps into stride beside me, but he hesitates after a step or two. I look up at him and suddenly realize that I’ve slipped my hand into the crook of his arm. I consider removing it, but it feels so right, comfortable and warm, so I pretend that it’s natural and pull him toward the hot-dog stand.

  Kael orders us each a hot-dog and I sigh as I’m forced to move my hand from his arm to accept the food. We amble toward the middle of the field to watch the fire-eaters swallow their burning swords. The performers take a bow; the crowd applauds and moves on. I take the mustard-drenched serviette from Kael’s hand and dump it, together with mine, in the nearest bin. When I return to his side, I can’t resist slipping my hand once more into the warm crook of his elbow. I ignore his look and shiver as a surge of heat runs from his body into mine.

  ‘Are you cold?’ he asks.

  ‘A little,’ I lie.

  Kael hesitates, drapes his arm around my shoulders and tucks me against his side. I shiver again as the electrical stream between us seems to open up even more. My eyes close involuntarily and I turn my face into Kael’s chest, breathe in the delicious, musky scent of him. It feels like I was made to fit here, in the space beneath his heart.

  ‘Kael!’ Someone calls from behind us. Kael starts, drops his arm from around me and spins around. He looks like a schoolboy who has just been caught making out with his girlfriend. The thought makes me want to laugh and blush at the same time.

  I sigh and turn around to one of Kael’s college friends, waving from the other side of the field. I’m not in the mood for small talk right now.

  ‘I’ll just be over there by the stalls,’ I say.

  Kael frowns slightly but he looks over at the row of market stalls and nods. I make my way toward the first, a soap stall, all the while conscious of Kael’s gaze following me. I browse for a while, idly sniffing the delicately scented soaps hand-carved into various shapes and patterns. Most of my attention though, is centered on Kael, who has angled his body to watch me while he converses with his friend.

  My eye catches a stall with lacy blouses. I saunter over and flip through the rack until I find a gauzy black top with silk ties down the front. It’s not crochet, but it’s still pretty. I hand over the few pounds and the student on duty wraps my purchase in a brown paper bag. I tuck the bag beneath one arm and glance up to check where Kael is.

  Out of nowhere, I’m hit by a wave of nausea and pain, so intense that I gasp and double over. I stumble, see the ground coming up toward me and brace for impact, but before I make contact with the grass, a pair of familiar, strong arms closes around me.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Kael’s voice is low and urgent in my ear. I want to respond but the words are stuck behind the lump of bile at the back of my throat.

  I close my eyes and groan as he lifts me into his arms, moves quickly to the side of the field and lays me down gently on the grass, behind the screen of a small bush. I immediately try to curl into a fetal position and wrap my arms around my stomach, but Kael pries my arms away, gentle but firm.

  ‘Let me see, please?’ he says.

  He holds my gaze, carefully peels my shirt up and looks down.

  ‘Oh my God,’ I hear his harsh intake of breath but the agony radiating from my middle has pushed me past the point of caring.

  ‘Hurts…’ I gasp, ‘make it…stop…please…’

  Chapter 44

  Desire

  Tastes like: Melted chocolate

  Smells like: Candles and incense

  Sounds like: Soft, classical music

  Feels like: Satin

  Looks like: A heated gaze across a room

  ‘…fell down…’

  ‘…not sure…butterfly…’

  ‘take off….’

  ‘…oh my…’

  Disjointed sentences and familiar voices filter through my pain filled haze. Every part of my body aches. I try to move my head toward the voices but even the slightest movement sends agony shooting through my skull, so I remain still.

  ‘I’ve never seen anything like this.’ I recognize Nan’s voice.

  ‘You try,’ Kael’s deep voice replies. Even the sound of his voice sends a slow warmth through me, chasing away some of the haze.

  ‘I don’t want to hurt her...’

  ‘She’s unconscious, Tanya. Just try.’

  I feel ice cold fingers slide along my bare stomach and then a palm flattens against the butterfly and I wish I could pass out again. Someone cries out; I think it’s me. The hands on my belly are quickly removed and Kael’s voice sounds out of the threatening blackness:

  ‘Tanya! Your hands! Are you alright?’

  There is a pause and a shuffling sound. I want to open my eyes, but it’s taking all my energy just to hang onto consciousness.

  ‘It’s as if…no, it couldn’t be - it doesn’t make sense…’ Nan says.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘This is the kind of wound iron causes.’

  ‘Are you saying she has iron in her blood?’ Kael responds, sounding incredulous.

  ‘I know, it doesn’t make sense but…’

  ‘Surely she would be dead then?’

  ‘Not necessarily. Technically, she’s still human, at least for the next few months, so it’s possible that iron would not have the same effect on her now as it does to an adult Maor but I just don’t understand how it could have happened.’

  There is another silence and Kael says, very softly: ‘She has been in contact with iron, Tanya. That night…’

  ‘The attack…’ Nan breathes.

  ‘What will happen when she –‘

  Kael’s sentence is cut short with the sound of a door being thrown open. I recognize Jake’s breathless voice:

  ‘Fire!’

  ‘What? Again?’ Kael asks, ‘Where?’

  ‘Just outside Aylburton.’

  ‘Damn it!’ Kael swears.

  ‘You have to stay, Kael,’ Nan says.

  ‘I know. It’s no coincidence.’

  ‘Should we leave someone else with you?’ Nan asks.

  ‘No, you’ll need all the help you can get.’

  ‘What if it’s a diversion?’

  Kael makes a frustrated sound.

  ‘Fine. Ask Kent to keep watch downstairs.’

  I hear footsteps receding, the click of a door swinging closed and then silence again.

  My mind is reeling, both from pain and from what was said. Iron in my blood? The attack? Diversion?

  My curiosity gets the better of me. I grit my teeth against the pain, turn my head to the side and open my eyes.

  ‘Thank God,’ Kael breathes. He leans over me from the edge of the mattress, brushing one hand across my forehead and peeri
ng anxiously down at me.

  ‘How’re you feeling?’

  ‘Sore,’ I say, finding it difficult to speak with my thick, dry tongue. ‘Water, please?’

  Kael retrieves a tall glass of water from the bedside table, cups the back of my head and lifts the glass to my lips. The water slides down my hot, dry throat like cold, soothing fingers. I sigh and drink down the rest of the glass. Kael holds me until the glass is drained, then lowers me gently back onto the feather pillows.

  ‘What happened?’ I ask.

  ‘You had another attack. You passed out at the festival. I had to carry you home.’

  I glance down at my stomach, where my shirt has been moved aside to expose the butterfly and draw in a shocked breath. The skin there is still raw and tender and the outline is an angry, red welt. Along the etching, are newly dried scabs. I run my hand lightly over the outline and feel unbidden tears well up behind my eyes.

  ‘Why is this happening to me?’ I whisper.

  ‘I don’t know…’ he replies, ‘we’ve never seen anything like this before and I can’t heal you.’ He swears and gestures toward my stomach. ‘Dammit, I’m supposed to be able to heal you!’

  ‘What?’ I ask, latching onto his words. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m your seastnan, Shaylee, I’m supposed to be able to heal you, but I can’t.’

  His voice is raw, but there’s anger behind his words and it sparks an answering response in me. This revelation is just another one in a long line of secrets he’s been keeping from me.

  ‘What else are you supposed to be able to do, Kael? What other secrets are you keeping from me?’ I demand.

  ‘What?’ he asks, looking a bit taken back.

  ‘I’m so tired of everyone keeping things from me; the attack, the secret Circle meeting, the healing. Why can’t you just be honest with me?’

  ‘Shaylee -’ Kael stands and paces beside the bed, ‘you’re not ready -’

  ‘Stop it! Just stop treating me like a child!’ I swing my legs off the side of the bed and sit up, fighting the rolling dizziness that threatens to overwhelm me.

  ‘I’m not even sure -’