I took off my apron, put it back on the peg behind the kitchen door and sat down at the table. I had stalled as long as I could. I deftly sliced a large wedge of cake for Daddy, put it on a plate and passed it to him.
“Mama, would you like a piece?” I asked tentatively.
“No thank you.” Then, unable to contain her impatience a minute longer, her voice erupted shrilly. “For goodness’ sake Margaret, will you please tell us what’s going on? You’ve been acting strange for days!”
I swallowed hard and poured myself some sweet tea. I sipped, took a deep breath, and braced myself.
“There is something…” I faltered, unable to look either of them in the eye.
“Out with it girl, we don’t have all night,” Daddy bellowed. His face flushed red as he leaned his elbows on the table. His eyebrows knitted together in anger and I lost every word I had planned to say.
All that came out of my mouth was, “I’m pregnant.”
There was a deafening silence. Then, Daddy rose up like a grizzly bear, fists waving before they slammed into the table. The silverware clattered against the plates and my heart skipped a beat.
“You’re what?” His eyes blazed across the table.
“I’m pregnant,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Daddy swore under his breath. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands!” His voice dropped to a menacingly low tone. “You’re a fool Margaret. No daughter of mine is having a bastard child. If you think for one moment I am going to support you, you’re dead wrong. I know you were raped, but you were the one that went to that dance looking like some whore painted in trashy red lipstick. And you had the gall to let yourself be alone with a man.”
I opened my mouth to protest and then closed it again. It was wiser to stay silent. Daddy’s voice echoed in my ears.
“You are nothing but a filthy tramp. You have brought disgrace upon the family. I want you out of my house! Do you hear me girl?” He leaned over the table, so close to me his warm whiskey breath fluttered across my tear stained cheek. “Damn you, Margaret, damn you.”
My face flushed with shame; I thought he would strike me but instead he turned to Mama, infuriated. “YOU should have never have allowed either one of our girls to go to that dance Christina.”
Mama sat unmoving in the chair, when she spoke her voice was barely audible. “How could we have known, Harold?”
Either he didn’t hear or he ignored her. In a sudden about face, as if he couldn’t stand to be near me one more second, he turned, stormed past me and out the back door, slamming it shut behind him.
He was gone just like that, before I even had a chance to respond.
I was numb.
I looked to Mama. She was watching me intently. She spoke softly. “He’s right isn’t he Margaret? It’s Thomas Mayfield’s? From when he…”
I nodded my head in misery.
Tears rolled down her cheeks and she dabbed them with her handkerchief. Just for a moment, she looked old and vulnerable. Then, collecting herself, she straightened and met my eyes.
“Margaret,” she said briskly. “This is what we are going to do. This baby is not going to ruin your life. We will send you away to Grandma’s; you can have the baby there. It’s far enough away that no one will know. Grandma will take good care of you. When this ordeal is over, you will come home. The baby will have to be given away, of course. We can say you went away to help Mama because she’d taken a fall. It will be all right, Margaret.” She patted my hand gently. As soon as her hand touched mine I felt her pain and worry wash over me. Her thoughts ran rampant with ‘How did something this terrible happen to my girl?’ And ‘I wonder how Mama will take all this.’ It had become clear to me that reading thoughts was something I was stuck with, whether good or bad.
Mama stood up and sighed. “Now let me go talk to your father and see if I can smooth things over.” She thought for a moment, “And Margaret, honey? Don’t speak a word of this to anyone. Especially your Aunt Bette; the whole world will know if she finds out.” With that, she turned and left quickly, to tackle the job of calming Daddy down.
The cake and tea sat on the table, unwanted.
I knew the feeling.
I suppose I shouldn’t have complained. It could have been worse.
23
The Watcher, July 1939
I lay on the beach with a knife in my heart.
I could feel Thomas’s energy ebbing away, there wasn’t much time left. I closed my eyes and gathered the energy from all the corners of my mind. Finally, after a few minutes I felt like I could pick myself up out of the sand. I dragged my body to the ocean and walked into the sea. I allowed myself be carried away by the tide. I had escaped in the nick of time. I has seen the amulet appear around Margaret’s neck, and quickly stabbed myself. It was the only way. Otherwise I would have been seen as a threat by the amulet and I would have been in grave danger. The myth about the amulet was true, I had seen with my own eyes when it had manifested on her pale skin, then abruptly disappeared from Margaret just before she’d run off. She was completely unaware of the real reason I’d taken Thomas’s life.
The timing had been divine. Margaret thought I’d killed myself over the child. A perfect cover. She hadn’t even noticed the amulet around her neck. She’d been confused as to why I had killed myself, wondered why it mattered to me that I was to become a father. She didn’t understand that in fact I was euphoric with the idea that I was even able to sire a child. The power I held was exquisite. The future was bright. It was all falling into place.
The rain continued to pelt down. Not a soul to disturb me. No one to save me. In this moment it was wonderful to be alone.
I had gathered a lot of strength from Thomas. He had been so full of human pain. His childhood drama of his father’s abuse plagued him and thus provided a much-needed energy. This man replayed over and over again a particular incident where his hands had been forced into flames. Even Margaret had heard his story and felt the weakness. I drew strength from weakness. I was glad however, to be rid of Thomas. I sensed I’d extracted all that could be taken from him. I was now ready to enter another person and become even stronger. Human life fed my spirit, and increased my power.
I disposed of my temporary home, shooting out through his eyes and soaring high into the sky above, capturing the lightning that flickered through the clouds, freed now from the weight of a body. I cast my eyes downward toward the churning ocean. I lingered only briefly to consider my next move before I headed back to the shoreline.
I thought back to my beginning. Where it all started and how far I had come—back to that moment when I had been appointed.
24
The Watcher, Greece-Somewhere in time
We had lived in the shadows of the abyss, watching as the noiseless footprints of time stretched out before us in a never ending stream of hopelessness.
We had no drive, no sense of purpose.
But when the magic had returned: we were unstoppable. The moon had passed the meridian. The hour was upon us.
It was time to choose.
It wasn’t meant to be this way. We were never supposed to know of the mortal woman, the female with the power.
But we did know. And because of that knowledge I had the opportunity to be considered for this challenge—a high honor.
I had to admit I was filled with trepidation. This day had been talked of for centuries.
I had chosen the body of my spiritual house carefully. I looked down and examined my attire. I straightened my tie and smoothed down the lapels of my suit. I smiled pleased with my acquisition. He was a tall man, with a broad chest and iron-muscled arms and legs. His hair and eyes were dark and his skin was sun-kissed and golden.
He had been charming and well-bred in life, it showed in the well-groomed fingernails and the fashionable wing-tip shoes. His name had been Peter.
Peter was now mine.
I gave an involuntary shiver, absorbing the d
eliciousness of standing on the sacred ground of our boúrda.
This is where we would find her.
I scanned the room, knowing the images and feelings would be seared in my mind forever. The taste of the burnt sage on my tongue, the smell of wax candles that burnt brightly in the darkness, and the view of the sacred circle of soul seekers.
There were twelve of us not counting the Director, Aniketos. His name meant unconquerable—a fitting tribute to the man who officiated over the proceedings. Throughout the centuries we had each played an important role, our stories woven into the fabric of time. We gathered silently around the long ornate table, waiting for permission to sit. Aniketos bore his title well. The anatomy of an old man, white hair sprouting out every which way in tufts, wrinkled, doughy skin, with sagging eyes and chin akin to a bulldog’s. He stood for ancient traditions and power. The strength held in his shark-like blue eyes held us all to attention. He wore a black robe, simple in design, but made from the finest silk. If selected, I too would be given a robe. It was an honor granted only to those who had been appointed to a position of high authority.
He interrupted my observations of him when he signaled with a single swipe of his hand for us to be seated. I inhaled sharply, nauseating spurts of adrenaline coursed through my veins. This was it! I exhaled a puff of vapor into the cold room.
Aniketos gave a nod of acknowledgment to the gathering. “You all know why we are here. The magic has returned.” There was a loud round of applause.
“Quiet!” he bellowed. The clapping instantly ceased. He lowered his arms and fixed his sunken eyes on his audience. “The assignment one of you will undertake today is vital to our mission. One woman holds all the power we require. There have been rumors over the centuries that tales of such a woman are a mere fabrication. I am here to announce today that she does indeed exist.”
There was a murmur of amazement around the table. I could feel the excitement begin to rise.
One of my competitors, Zenon, interjected. A being with a sullen demeanor, he had chosen his body poorly. Red hair was plastered to his sallow-skinned forehead. His angular frame resembled a bean pole held up by a tweed jacket and thick woolen pants. His voice rose hysterically when he spoke, “What could this woman possibly have that is more powerful that all of us?” He waved his hand round the assembly. “Why should we believe she exists? Do you have proof? What evidence can you give us?”
He rose from his chair, the veins in his neck protruding in livid ridges as he scoured our faces, his beady eyes raking the room for solidarity. “Surely I’m not alone in thinking this!” he snapped.
There was an eerie stillness in the chamber. No one spoke. I felt my toes curl up in my shoes as he gave me a sideways glance. I winced and lowered my head, but not before I took a look at the shock and horror on the faces of the other members of the circle.
Zenon gave a snort of disgust. “Does anyone have the gumption to speak?”
I shuddered inwardly. Zenon was a cartographer—a brilliant map maker; he had guided us to this place. A meticulous individual, he had left no stone unturned, but now here he was redundant, his skills no longer required—he’d mapped out it all. Everything we could ever need. He was the weakest link. We were all aware of this.
And we also knew what was coming.
Aniketos slammed his fist against the table. “That will be enough!” he roared.
A ripple of fear echoed through the room. Aniketos’ eyes glittered at Zenon with menace. “You will be silent now!” he demanded.
I lifted my gaze and locked eyes with Kairos; our timekeeper. He was perhaps the most valued individual at this meeting. It was rumored he would be the chosen one. I looked at him contemptuously. Everything about him oozed egotism, from his strong Roman nose and café noir skin, to the barrel shaped chest bulging out of a crisp white dress shirt. He held my stare with a smug grin.
Arrogant bastard thinks he can intimidate me with his cocky attitude, I thought bitterly. I could imagine what his addled brain was thinking. Only ten more.
I angrily averted my eyes.
Zenon was now defiantly staring at the director.
Aniketos’ face flushed with fury. He loomed over him. Through clenched teeth he hissed, “How dare you question me, you supercilious little vertebrate! My information is accurate. Do you not remember you were selected from many candidates to represent us here today? Do you wish me to reconsider this decision?” He gave Zenon a terrible smile, “Obviously your memory is short, Zenon. Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
Zenon paled and took a shuddering breath; he realized he had gone too far. “No Aniketos. I can explain—I was merely trying to understand our situation. Please spare me your wrath.” He cowered in fear under the cold, stony face of the director.
Aniketos stared at him in disgust, his thin lips compressed in a hard line. “You know I cannot. It is unfortunate for you Zenon, but there is no room for forgiveness at this table. You are a weak deviant. The circle of soul seekers has no more use for you. You are banished to the infernal realm where madness breeds madness, a place where your flesh will burn for all eternity.”
“No, please I…” Zenon’s voice was drowned out as Aniketos raised his gnarled hands and a howling black tornado of smoke and flames ripped from his fingertips. Zenon released a guttural scream as tongues of red fire devoured him; turning his flesh into charred barbeque meat.
Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smoke and flames were snuffed out, leaving nothing but a pile of glowing amber ashes.
With that, Zenon’s human form was annihilated.
Aniketos calmly turned to us, his mouth contorted grotesquely in a terrible smile. “Does anyone else wish to question me?”
Every entity was still. I felt my stomach churn; I willed it to stay silent.
“Good. Shall we continue? Timing is going to be key here. The person selected must act expeditiously as soon as the opportunity arises. As you know, the human mind can only comprehend one reality and that my friends, is how we will succeed. You are all well aware of how time moves back and forth like a pendulum. People on earth believe that time is a one-way street that runs from the past to the present. Their brains cannot fathom manipulation of the clock. That is, except for one woman.”
He paused, scanning each of our faces before continuing. “She will stop time and bend it to her will. She is the answer to our quest. Pyrrhus has taken us far in our findings,” he paused and gave a nod to Pyrrhus. “But we need to go further. Everything we have trained for has led us to this moment.”
I cast my gaze on Pyrrhus; he looked exactly as a professor should. Sharp intelligent eyes peered out from behind clear-rimmed glasses. His outfit a cream colored cable sweater and brown corduroy pants. He was a brilliant physicist—the genius behind our breakthroughs. I saw beads of sweat forming over his bushy eyebrows as he pushed up his glasses. A crutch he used to distract himself when he felt nervous, an aggravating habit with an appeal similar to an irritating tick.
Aniketos rose to his feet and began to pace back and forth across the room. He paused, then exhaled loudly before turning back to face us. “I have made a decision that one of you will be sent on this quest. You must find the woman who is the conduit of time. It is vital to our mission. We must seize the opportunity to manipulate time and use it for our own needs.” He crossed back over to his chair and sank back down. “Now that is resolved, we will take a vote to see which one of you will undertake this task. You must be prepared to risk all for the sake of our future. Please connect your minds and cast your vote.”
A brilliant flame ignited in the center of the table. We focused intently, merging our consciousness with the glowing light until our energies intertwined. Sparks flew into the air illuminating the darkness. We waited what seemed like an eternity before the flashes receded. Finally, the director placed his hand in the flame and closed his eyes to listen.
My heart beat rapidly in my chest. I dared to dream I
would be chosen.
Aniketos removed his hand from the flame and stood. “Your peers have spoken. The vote is clear.” He turned to face me, “Watcher rise up and step forward.”
With a glance of triumph at Kairos I sprang to my feet and swift as a cat went over to face the director. Aniketos’ voice echoed loud and clear in the room. “You will now take the oath. Kneel before the sacred circle of soul seekers and vow that you will give everything of yourself for this mission. Do not fail us. It is imperative to our goals that you succeed.”
“I will do all within my power,” I said with verve.
Aniketos and the other circle members began to chant as I got down on my knees and bowed my head.
My voice blended in perfect harmony as I made my vow. “I pledge only to serve. I will risk all for the sake of the circle and will do as commanded.”
And with that I was wrenched from my knees and whipped up in a swirling tornado of powerful energy. I hung suspended in air—flames lapping my wing-tipped shoes. Suddenly I began to spin, twirling higher and higher. I sucked in my breath. Then, just when I thought I would burst, the air gushed from my lungs and I dropped lightly to the cold floor. Something was different. I looked down and found myself ensconced in a flowing black robe. I smiled in selfish pleasure.
I was the Watcher.
Catching my breath for a moment I just looked down and stared at its beauty. When I finally raised my head I was filled with avarice. The power was intoxicating and I greedily absorbed it like a sponge. My chest puffed out with pride.
The director raised his arms with authority and bellowed to the others, “Let us dispatch him to his task!”
There was a buzzing in my ears and I disappeared in a puff of smoke. Leaving the safety of the boúrda I took my final steps to living earth.
The Soul of the Sun (The Argos Dynasty) Page 8