Savior

by Laury Falter

  “I found it, while scouting a new perimeter. It looked to me like a-”

  “House,” I replied absentmindedly, perplexed at finding one so remote and isolated.

  The platform stood a few feet above water level, built on thick posts. The walls were no longer standing, allowing us to see directly across to the opposite side, where a vast stone chimney stood. It was the only remnant of what the house had once been. Only when we reached it and had climbed the ladder did I notice the other objects.

  Massive candles anchored each corner. Jameson strolled around lighting them as my confused mind tried to process his actions.

  Standing there, surveying it, Jameson finished with the last candle and came to a halt. As the lid to his lighter snapped closed, he peered up through the hair that fell over his eyes and grinned as if he had just gotten away with something. Quietly, tenderly, he declared, “Happy birthday, Jocelyn.”

  “Birth…?” I stuttered. “It’s my birthday?”

  He slyly moved across the blanket to me, his crooked grin deepening.

  I was stunned, several thoughts crossing my mind at once. The weather had been getting cooler, which meant fall had arrived, which meant school had very likely started, which meant…and then I froze. With everything going on around us, I didn't realize my birthday was approaching; and, therefore, I hadn’t remembered his.

  He saw the guilt cross my face and slipped his arms around me, grinning lightly. “You have no idea, do you?”

  “About what?”

  “We…,” he started, breaking into a smile, the sight of it stealing my breath. Then he chuckled to himself as if he harbored a secret. “We share the same birthday, Jocelyn.”

  The shock of this discovery jolted me, my mind returning to the very first day we met, exactly one year ago. “We…you…when we met…”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed, summarizing my thoughts, because I was obviously having a hard time with it. “We met on our birthday.”

  My lungs didn’t seem to be functioning any longer. It took several tries to get them to expand and draw in enough air so that I could reply, “No one ever told me.”

  “Well, how often do you think about birthdays until one comes up?”

  “Never.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But you did,” I pointed out, astounded. “So this is why you wanted to postpone dinner with Cornelia.”

  His mysterious grin resurfaced, causing a flutter in my stomach, like a rabble of butterflies trapped inside me.

  “Yes, I did,” he said, tenderly. “But tonight, let’s not talk about the future or the past. I want to remember tonight being about us, you and me.”

  He slipped his hand behind my neck, pulling me to him then. His kiss showed me that he no longer felt a juvenile desire to be with me. There was a hunger to it, an urgency that made me think he was worried this would be our last time together. And his fear was valid.

  We now lived in a world where we were wanted fugitives and our deaths were being masterfully planned by those ruling over us. Every day we lived, every second we spent together, was a gift. Because of this, I understood what he meant by wanting this to be our night. No one could touch us here. For this small window of time, we were free to experience our love, uninhibited.

  I moaned, leaning into him. The heat coming from our bodies ignited from our touch and sent an insatiable heat coursing through me. He placed his hands inside my cloak, sensually gliding beneath the shirt and lovingly wrapping his arms around my waist. His touch sparked an electrical current and sent it fluttering across my skin, making me quiver with anticipation. He groaned in reaction but then his kiss lost its emotion just before he pulled away.

  “What?” I asked, confused by his sudden change of heart. I was swarmed by the possibilities and began stepping back just as he started to speak.

  “Jocelyn,” he whispered, his emotions restricting his ability to articulate his thoughts any louder. “From the second I saw you, my entire world changed. Everything I had been doing, accepting the position of Officer to the village, preparing myself to fulfill the responsibilities of the Nobilis.”

  “I understand….”

  “No,” he said, his voice still quiet. “Let me…let me get this out.”

  I nodded, the lump in my throat expanding as I grew more terrified by his interlude. My mind was racing now, and I could only think of one possible reason for him to pull away from me: He had come to the realization that he couldn’t allow this, us, any longer. He had a job to do and, obviously, I get in the way of it.

  That reasoning was logical, as was Jameson.

  And it all made sense.

  That would be the motive for taking me so far from the village. There was no privacy in the village.

  Stop and listen, I told myself. Let him get it out. As much as it will destroy me, he deserves it.

  “I never cared to look at girls before I saw you in Olivia’s store. There was no time, never any reason. I was preparing myself for my obligations, trying to become the Nobilis everyone expected. Even if there had been someone I felt…something for…she wouldn’t have been able to understand me or respect what I was going to have to face." He reflected tenderly, smiling to himself, and an ache began in my stomach.

  This was it. I prepared myself, sealing away my emotions as I had done throughout my life, bringing back that protective barrier that kept me from getting hurt. Ironically, I had practiced the technique for so many years I was actually good at it.

  “Even while growing up with my brothers and sisters, surrounded by the entire village, I felt alone. And then you came. You…this bright light I couldn’t seem to turn away from. And I wondered about you…how your lips would feel, what you thought of me, whether our family history would keep you from me. And all that time, after all that deliberation, I didn’t realize that I was the one who changed. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought of me…or you…or your family. What no one understood was that I had never been perfect. You, Jocelyn, make me feel perfect.

  “Now, everything I do, I do for you. Bringing the provinces together, building our army, helping others see that they can defy The Sevens…all of it…I do for you.”

  He paused, readying himself to stress an additional point, one that was very crucial. “So if you don’t want this…If you’re not ready…I’ll understand. I’ll wait for you.”

  I blinked.

  The tumult of my emotions prevented me from immediately grasping what he was saying, and then it came to me with such speed it took my breath away.

  He wasn’t breaking up with me. He didn’t want to rush me.

  Once again, he was thinking about me, only me.

  Every muscle in my body released in unison. My breathing began again and the pain in my stomach ebbed away.

  “I will, Jocelyn,” he insisted, tender but firm. “I’ll wait for you.”

  My head fell to my chest where I contained a smile, sighing in frustration at myself.

  “What?” he urged gently. It was clear he was nervous about my answer. “I-I was thinking about you, about your worry over our future.”

  When I took his hand, his forehead creased in confusion.

  “I know,” I said softly. “I’m the first person you consider in every decision you make.”

  “You are,” he admitted. “You are.”

  “Oh, Jameson,” I said softly, reaching my hand out to him.

  He exhaled, both eager and relieved. With it, his breath carried my name, “Jocelyn….” His voice was hoarse and staggered, filled with the same heated need he’d had for me a moment earlier.

  He lingered only a second longer and then I found his lips on mine. His fingers gripped my waist and his arms enveloped me in a way that made me feel completely safe.

  And then he froze, his lips resting lightly against me, his breath cut short.

  Someone was nearby.

  Through the chorus of crickets, we listened, and then it came again, the heralded message t
hat caused my heart to pause.

  “The ministry…the ministry was attacked!”

  12 ATTACK

  We didn't move an inch.

  What we’d heard was improbable. The ministry couldn’t have been attacked. They retained an army of Vires trained from infancy to protect it; Vires who were brainwashed into giving their life for its preservation.

  But I’d heard correctly. I knew this when staring into Jameson’s eyes. There, passion had been replaced with vigilance.

  He frowned and I thought for a second that he was disgruntled about the news. But I was wrong.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, clearly fighting against ending our night. “We’ll have to wait for another chance to take advantage of each other.”

  He smirked back at me while stepping back, and taking with him the enticing warmth of his body.

  He then offered his hand to me and I accepted. At that point, questions began racing through my mind.

  “Theleo?” I asked, wondering if he and Eli might have retaliated with vengeance in mind.

  Following my line of thought, Jameson stiffened. “He doesn’t have the force needed to survive an attack. I’d like to think he’d be smarter than that….” As a reassuring afterthought, he added with resolve, “He is.”

  “Maybe someone from the inside then?”

  “Possibly.”

  We were down the ladder by then, leaving the blanket and candles where they lay. Our urgency to reach the village caused our boat to tip slightly, but once underway, Jameson deftly maneuvered it through the water.

  By the time we reached the village boundary, we could see lights through the trees, which I knew were lanterns from the shacks roused by the news. Farther in, people stood on their docks, rubbing the tiredness from their eyes and conversing with their neighbors. There was a nervous energy pulsing through the air, which only strengthened as more and more people emerged from their shacks to discuss what this information meant.

  News of this nature would travel fast through our world and the reaction our village had was only a hint of what was to come.

  People would be terrified and exhilarated.

  Knowing this, Jameson hastily reached his parent’s shack first, where voices were already conferring inside, signifying we were the last to arrive. Even Theleo, Eli, and the other defectors stood outside, appearing like they had no other place to go.

  As we opened the door, I found both families packed into the room, some were pacing in order to relieve their anxious tension.

  The second we appeared, voices assaulted our ears. Jameson allowed them to quiet before speaking.

  “What do we know?” he asked with a focused concentration.

  “The ministry was attacked,” Estelle said, her pitch almost feverish.

  “The Sevens' ministry?” asked Jameson for clarification, a question I hadn’t even considered.

  “That’s the one,” Charlotte said, wryly. She seemed to be the only person in the room without an emotional reaction to the report.

  “Was it us?” Jameson’s father asked him, stopping his pacing long enough to watch his son’s reaction.

  “No.” He looked disappointed. “We aren’t ready yet.”

  “Then who?”

  “We’ll need to figure it out. Who delivered the news?”

  “Miss Mabelle and Miss Celia,” said Vinnia.

  “Figures…,” grumbled Charlotte. “They always bring news of death or destruction.”

  I was surprised she’d picked up on it, too.

  “Are they still here?” asked Jameson, quickly scanning the room.

  “No,” Charlotte barked.

  In a nicer tone, Alison added, “They’re spreading the word.”

  “We’ll need to know their source,” said Jameson to Aunt Lizzy, who spent the most time with our housekeepers.

  “They said news of it was spreading through our world like wildfire," she replied and, in case her hint wasn’t picked up, she added, “So I’m not sure they have any particular one, dear.”

  “Did they know if any of The Sevens were killed?”

  My mother suddenly spoke up, attracting attention from the entire room. “All of them lived and whoever attacked will have a challenge finding them again. At this point, they’ll have gone into hiding while reinforcing the ministry with additional Vires. I imagine even Sartorius’ personal army was recalled.” She then quietly settled back, reassuming her impatient attitude.

  “But The Sevens were definitely the targets?” asked Jameson, his tone grave.

  “Yes,” said Spencer, going on to explain what had happened in his typically articulate manner. “No one was hurt, but they easily could have been. As you know, there are a number of visitors at the ministry at any given time, but when they fled the attack, not a single one was pursued. The attackers were specifically seeking The Sevens.”

  Jameson nodded, his gaze sinking to the floor. When his head lifted, there was a rigidity in him that reflected the resolve he felt. “Do we know anything about the attackers?”

  No one spoke immediately, all of them appearing reserved and baffled.

  “Anything at all?” Jameson pressed.

  “People said,” Oscar ventured hesitantly, “that the attack came from above, like a swarm of birds.”

  “Birds?”

  “It was at night, so those on the ground had impaired vision; and when the swarm began, they ran inside, thinking the attackers were coming for them. No one got a good look, but they left enough damage to show their force.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense. Maybe the birds were trained?” Spencer suggested.

  “Or they simply looked like birds,” Jameson considered out loud.

  Dillon turned sharply toward him, amazed. “You don’t think they were people?”

  “We don’t know anything yet,” replied Jameson, tight lipped, turning to my mother. “Isabella, you have friends at the ministry?”

  She tipped her head once.

  “Theleo,” said Jameson, turning toward him. “Do you have any confidants on the inside?”

  Instantly comprehending Jameson’s plan of action, my mother interjected.

  “I won’t give up their identities,” she vowed.

  “Well, we can’t ask you to go…not in this climate.”

  “You don’t need to. I’ll volunteer.”

  “No,” I declared, stepping forward in opposition.

  Despite my opinion in the matter, Eli slipped the black cloak from his shoulders, the same kind worn by those living and visiting at the ministry, and quietly extended it to my mother. She was flustered at what would be considered a selfless act by someone she still believed to be a Vire, but it didn't last. Taking it, she gave him a nod of appreciation, albeit a slight one; and he replied with the same. It was an exchange of silent respect between those who would be deemed enemies, and it stunned the room.

  “Mother,” I said, again in resistance.

  She ignored me, already heading for the door, where Theleo stood observing. “We’ll need to land on the north side, where the ministry is most vulnerable.”

  Her voice immediately faded as she stepped across the threshold and Theleo lifted them into the night sky.

  The discussion ended there, as everyone quietly shuffled back to their shacks to await news from my mother and her sources.

  I didn’t sleep at all the rest of the night, despite Jameson’s repeated requests. The memory of my mother in rags being led through a dark chamber door lay like cement on the forefront of my consciousness, immovable and ever present. If she were caught again, however, there would be no imprisonment. They had no more need for her, knowing that their first attempt to lure me in using my mother had ended in dismal failure. No, her body would be annihilated and discarded like so many other innocent lives had been.

  Only the steady rhythm of Jameson’s rising and falling chest offered some comfort. It had a consistency, a reliability that was lacking in my life.

&nbs
p; Over the course of the passing hours, sometime between the call of an owl and the chortle of morning birds, a chill settled in the air, reminding me of two things. First, fall had arrived. Second, with it, school had started.

  Classes had begun…I lay consumed by this realization as an idea began to develop alongside it, one too hazy to recognize initially.

  Homerooms were designated. School books were ordered. Lesson plans had been prepared. Jameson and his siblings, along with my cousin and I, would be the only ones not present for it all. But plenty of others would be….

  Students would be flooding back on campus.

  One in particular, the one who could visit the dead.

  Then it dawned on me what I needed to do, and the fog from my breath grew thicker as my excitement increased.

  If anyone could tell us who would have the capability to attack The Sevens and survive, it would be one of their own relatives. And Sartorius’ son, my father, could only be reached through one person on this earth…another student at The Academy of the Immaculate Heart…Maggie Tanner.

  With incredible precision, I lifted the blanket off me and slipped out of bed, peeking over my shoulder to make certain Jameson hadn't been disturbed. Leaving the cloak on the chair where I’d hung it, I picked up my boots and crept out the door.

  I would have asked Jameson to come with me but we’d be far too obvious. The fact I was a Weatherford and he was a Caldwell, and we were together, continued to draw attention to us, even outside our world. I would have much better luck getting on and off campus without my famous arch enemy beside me.

  Getting through the village was no problem. I’d watched Jameson start and maneuver his boat enough times that I was able to navigate it fairly well on my own, if I do say so myself. But as I entered the space between the end of the village and the shoreline leading to civilization, I realized what I’d done.

  I was now completely alone.

  If I were to never return, no one would know where to find me or why I’d disappeared. Jameson especially would take the brunt of it, knowing that I’d gone missing while in his presence. He’d never forgive himself.

  Brushing aside the feeling of absolute vulnerability, I reminded myself to concentrate on the goal and not about failing to achieve it.