“But I do not fault her entirely. Her actions, I’m sure, could not be helped. You see she is a confirmed conjurer. We’ve all heard the stories as children. We all saw how the evil twisted London McArthur’s mind. I’m sure, in fact, that it’s done irreparable damage to our heir’s as well. The vampires recognized the evil in her soul, perhaps they even bonded over that common attribute. This unnatural alliance is what led her to invite predators into our haven, to use her disgusting black magic to weaken the old magic that keeps the vampires out. But our kind have persevered this treachery. We have sniffed out this plot to bring down our haven and this traitorous girl must be punished for this most terrible of betrayals. The conjurer must die!”
The shouts that went up from the larger crowd sent chills down my spine. They were the very same people who would cheer anytime I entered a room, and now they all wanted me dead. Duncan had fed them of some kind of conspiracy theory and they had all lapped it up. Already angry and afraid, I found myself hating them for it.
Darren stepped up next and Duncan began to chuckle. “Now we get to hear from a boy who’s so wrapped up in “puppy” love he can’t see the forest through the trees.”
Snickers sounded. Darren glared at Duncan.
“If I may, I’d like to speak on Ms. Adams’ behalf.” The voice had come from the larger crowd.
There was shock on nearly everyone’s faces once they had turned to find that Mrs. Moorer was the one who had spoken. Duncan’s too. Darren looked to my mother and she nodded. My mother was the take-charge type—as a single mother on the run, she’d had to be. She was also terrific at putting a plan together, so it wasn’t any surprise when people looked to her for leadership. She could have had Mrs. Moorer planted there, just to have this effect when she spoke up for me. But even if this wasn’t planned, it was probably for the better; Duncan had certainly destroyed Darren’s credibility with the shot he’d just taken at him.
Mrs. Moorer took the spot directly beside Duncan and began to speak. “Let me begin by saying that regardless of what I’ve alleged in the past, there is only proof of one vampire having ever been within our haven’s borders—London’s vampire, the very same vampire later found dead, killed by the very girl you hold accountable for his being here. Why, if there were some great collusion between Ms. Adams and the vampire, would her friends have been injured in what was so obviously a fight? However, even if that logic wasn’t so terribly insulting, there is the fact every schoolmate—every single one—swears that London and Anastasia hated one another. The guardians outside the house said the two were arguing after the “infamous” community service trip. Does trying to revive a dead schoolmate make you an accomplice in their concealing a vampire? Locking Helena Bohnam in a cellar for two days as you badger her into saying something you can use—is that evidence? None of these charges would stand up in a traditional trial. Open your eyes people! There is only one reason that we are here tonight, and that’s because Ms. Adams has been confirmed a conjurer. Duncan, like so many before him, has used one fact and a cloud of “maybes” to play upon the fears of the many. It seems no one has mentioned that a haven sans an heir and Chief Advisor falls to the Chief Guardian to inherit. So please, let us address these fears.”
“I, like many here, was taught to fear and loathe conjurers, and my deceased grandparents are among the most loving people I’ve known. “Conjurers are evil,” they told me, “worse than any three vampires.” Strong opinions, given the fact that neither of them had ever come across a conjurer in their lifetimes. I suspect that this history is very similar to that of most of the people gathered here tonight. Yet, something happened to me the night London McArthur died. I watched a conjurer with everything to lose, risk it all to save another. I sat there, watching her try repeatedly and I found myself thinking, how can something evil perform an act so selfless? So I tried to compare what I was seeing with what else I knew about conjurers, discovering that when I really thought about it, there was nothing to compare it with—nothing I knew for certain—the sum of my knowledge being what I’d heard from others. I teach both math and history at Heathwood, and I’m always pointing out to my students that throughout man’s history, the simple act of prejudice has led to terrible injustices and unspeakable atrocities—never realizing until that night that I had fallen into the very same trap. Ms. Adams’ being here is not a curse, but rather a gift, a chance to put to rest all of the myths that surrounded our conceptions of what conjurers actually are. What we do here will affect what our children do in the future. And haven’t we already seen what can become of a child that is taught to hate blindly? Isn’t one senseless death too many?”
I’d like to say that the skill with which Mrs. Moorer had penetrated Duncan’s wildly bogus accusations (London’s idea to play enemies, though equally dishonest, had helped) or that the passion with which she spoke about giving me a real chance had really made a difference. That people had really considered her words and thought them over carefully. But they didn’t. Not one person changed sides. Not one. This was real life, I reminded myself, and as close as my life had come to resemble a fairytale in the past, it most assuredly wasn’t.
“The people have spoken,” Duncan announced triumphantly. “Tie her to the post.”
Then, several members of the smaller crowd surged forward, but the fifty or so guardians present headed them off. I saw three of them take Darren down forcibly and I called out to him to stop resisting so the men would stop hitting him. However, he wouldn’t stop, none of them did, and the guardians met their unyielding spirit with brutal force, despite Duncan’s calls to use caution.
I closed my eyes to shut it all out, to block out the thoughts of being literally set on fire, but when I felt two sets of hands lift me up, I reacted. I fought against them, maniacally, twisting and kicking my feet as much as I could. If those few supporters could fight for me, then I could at least fight for my own life. Even if it was a losing battle.
I felt the stiff wood slam into my back, and the pain ended my personal revolt. Ropes wrapped around me and I saw Duncan taking the torch from Chris’ dad a few feet away. I was shaking, even through the ropes, and the sounds of people’s voices filled my head. I was hearing their thoughts but it was all muddled together and sounded like static. This couldn’t be the end…it just couldn’t. Not like this.
Duncan thrust the flaming torch into the air and all efforts to resist slowly came to a stop. This was it. They’d failed. I was about to die. I watched him toss the torch into the air and followed it with my eyes until it hit the stacks of wood beneath my feet. The fire shot up in front of me and I shut my eyes.
Only, the pain never came. I opened my eyelids to find Tristan’s depthless green eyes staring back at me, and for a moment I thought I might be dead already, that Tristan had never made it out of that closet, and impossibly, he was waiting for me… in heaven—until I heard the pain in his voice.
“I’m going… to get you free,” he whispered into my face. That snapped me back into reality.
Tristan’s arms were wrapped tightly around me, his body the only thing keeping the fire from reaching mine. The flames hadn’t spread beyond the area being shielded off by Tristan and I could feel his hands working at the ropes behind me. Every second that passed, the flames lashed away at his back. I begged him to hurry, before we both met our ends on this stake.
Finally, I felt the ropes around me begin to give way, and I wiggled myself free enough to help him. Once the ropes fell away, he grabbed hold of me and leapt backwards, away from the fire that suddenly swallowed up the stake.
Tristan was too injured to land cleanly. We ended up sprawled out on the grass. He’d landed on his stomach and I crawled over to him. His back and legs were black and raw and smoke lifted off him.
I had just reached him when the first streaks of fire lit up the field. Even now, they tried to kill us and something in me snapped. I’d had enough. I jumped to my feet and with a wave of my hand, the streaks vanish
ed in midflight. I wasn’t sure how I knew that I could make them go away, but I did. I also realized that I had been the one to keep the fire from lighting the stake up completely.
One or two of the guardians prepared for another volley when a woman’s voice rang out across the field. “Enough.”
A hooded figure had appeared in front of me, addressing the wall of guardians and scattered witch folk beyond them. “It has come to Daemon’s attention that the witches in this haven have decided to revolt. I am here to advise you to do otherwise. If by chance you do not heed this warning, this haven will be destroyed, as the treaty entitles us to do.”
Duncan stepped forward. “Who do you think you are?”
“I am Surya, the seventh, acting commander of the second army.”
“Army?” Duncan scoffed. “What army?”
The cloaked figure put up her hand, holding something to the moonlight that shimmered. In groups of ten and twenty, they began to appear beyond the scattered witch folk, and they kept coming until the entire field was blanketed by cloaked figures. There had to be a thousand of them.
With the cloaked woman’s help, Tristan struggled up to his feet and the cloaked figures all dropped to their knees. “It’s time you all knew the truth,” he announced. “The witches lost the war. I am the one who keeps the vampires out of Brighton, not some silly spell. Your leaders have only done as the leaders before them agreed to do when the treaty that ended the war was written. So go home to your children. You have my personal assurance that you will not be harmed. But here this, never attempt to hurt this girl again or I swear there will be hell to pay.”
Stunned, the crowd began to disperse, many casting nervous glances at the sea of vampires behind them. Some came over to me instead, the majority being the supporters whose loyalty towards me had never wavered. Others offered their apologies, insisting they had been pressured into siding with Duncan.
Tristan kept them all at an arm’s distance before finally giving up. He swept me up into his arms and leapt to my balcony. Again, the landing was anything but smooth; he was still hurt, and winced noticeably. He took me into my room, and let me down onto my own feet. I stared into those green eyes and knew everything he wanted to say, I could feel the words. Written into the relief in his eyes and the parting of lips was a reminder, telling me once again that I was the most precious thing in his world. But I wasn’t sure if he knew…
“Tristan…I killed him.”
“I know, Ana.” He was working hard to keep the sorrow from his face now, but his eyes weren’t capable of lying. Not to me.
“I’m sorry, so sorry—“
“I know you, Ana. You don’t have to explain anything—you did what you had to. What matters is that you’re alright. As long as you’re safe, then I have a reason to go on.”
We had a connection, him and me, and even if my part in it wasn’t truly my own, we were both hurting inside, and being together helped immensely. It was as though our souls could actually reach out and heal the souls of others. I put my arms around him and we shared a private moment of quiet, safety, and more than anything, relief. If he truly wished me dead then I would be. But being that I wasn’t, I couldn’t help but feel like I should have known that already.
It wasn’t until I’d released him that I noticed the cloaked figure on my balcony. Tristan’s face saddened once he’d turned to see what had drawn my attention.
“I have to go now, but I’ll be back soon.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
He started towards the door but stopped short of it, a faint smile on his face now. “Maybe the next time you discover that you can control fire, you can keep me from getting burned, too.”
My emotions were swirling around inside me. Just because Tristan wasn’t angry with me didn’t mean I wasn’t angry with myself. “Thank you,” I said. It felt like so little given the fact that he had just risked his life to save me. Me, the girl he loved more than anything, even after I had killed his oldest friend in the world.
He nodded and then stepped out onto the balcony, where he exchanged a few words with the cloaked figure. In the next instant, both had vanished.
Adrenaline still coursed through my arteries and I didn’t know what to do with myself now that I was alone. After pacing around my room for a few minutes, I gave up on calming down and decided to search out my family and friends.
My mother met me just inside my door. I was swallowed up into another hug, and felt others latch on: my grandmother, poor Helena (who I could never blame for her admissions), and Taylor (who, I reminded myself, I needed to have a long talk with). Someone tripped, and with each of us so tangled up, everyone but my grandmother ended up on the floor, laughing. My grandmother found it particularly funny, as she was the only one to manage staying upright. I felt myself finally begin to relax with the people I cared about so near and safe. Somehow, everyone had made it through this second nightmare. But where was Darren?
Right on cue, he stepped into room my next. There were bruises along the sides of his face and neck, and his shirt was ripped. When I met his eyes, everything slowed down. There was only he and I in that fraction of a second, and he stepped into the room and threw his arms around me. I wasn’t sure who had been the one to suggest giving us some privacy but I was grateful. He began to kiss me the way that I’d only seen in movies—that kiss you give to that special someone after beating impossible odds. Only, once our lips finally parted, I discovered that we weren’t entirely alone.
Darren’s body had tensed, and I knew even before I turned my head, who I’d find there. Tristan.
Chapter 31
Goodbye
“T-Tristan…I…” I stammered, desperately searching for the right words for what I was trying to convey. He wasn’t aware of the decision I’d made, and I couldn’t bring myself to say the words immediately after he’d just saved my life. It had been hard enough to tell him that I’d killed Aiden. Still, I owed him my honesty, and that meant telling him that Aiden’s forcing me to choose had made me aware of something—if given the choice, I wanted to spend whatever time I had left with Darren. Tristan was right; I didn’t know why I loved him, I just that I did. With Darren, it was different—different because there were no doubts or mysteries surrounding my feelings for him. I remembered every moment. But how to say it? How to make him understand?
He stared at me for a moment, with saddened eyes that seemed to be reading me like an open book. “It’s okay, Ana. It’s better this way, I suppose. Could we have a quick word?”
I didn’t catch his meaning at first, probably because his meaning was the last thing I expected him to want. He was asking for a moment alone with Darren, not me. Confused, I nodded and started toward my door, looking back over my shoulder the entire time, lest some kind of confrontation start up. Once outside, I pressed my ear right up to the door, but the only thing I heard was Tristan asking Darren to step outside onto the balcony because “she’s definitely got her ear up to the door right now.”
Busted, I let myself slide down onto the floor. Was Darren the right choice? Would I regret this decision later? Despite everything, I knew in my heart that the first answer was “yes.” We hadn’t known each other long enough to say we were in love or anything, but we had a spark, a spark that was mine, and I had to protect it—even when the feelings I had for Tristan raged inside of me like a runaway fire. I found myself smiling, thinking back to Darren and me splashing one another in the pond out back. He was my soft place to fall. He made me laugh and did what he could to protect me. I was happy when I was with him and that was the biggest difference; where Tristan was concerned, I only had stories and dreams of he and I being happy. That wasn’t enough. I cared for Tristan—I loved him— but it wasn’t me who fell in love with him, no matter how strong the feelings were. Still, the best answer I could give to my second question was a “maybe.” Honestly, that frightened me a little.
Darren appeared to be in a daze when the door to my room final
ly opened up.
I jumped to my feet. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
It took a moment for him to meet my eyes. “He told me about you two, the whole reincarnation thing—how we’re on the same side as far as keeping you safe. He also told me that…” He dropped his eyes and let his voice trail off.
“I’m going to die soon,” I finished. I felt both guilty and relieved that he’d had to hear it from someone else.
“What? No. He said that you made the right choice. That now you can have a full and happy life—that he would take care of everything. Why do you think you’re gonna die?”
He must have taken my words to be a complete statement rather than a continuation of what he was saying. There was real concern in Darren’s eyes as he spoke to me, but I was too confused to answer him. Was choosing Tristan really the reason I kept dying so young? But why? And how?
“If you’re worried that they’ll come after you again, don’t be. A number of us are gonna stay here until things settle down. Nothing like this’ll ever happen again, I promise you.
I just nodded. Telling him what I had actually meant probably wasn’t a good idea right now, especially if there was a chance it didn’t apply anymore.
Grey Eyes (Book One, The Forever Trilogy) Page 24