Riftkeepers: Prime

by Carrie Whitethorne

  “I'd never run from you, Charlotte,” his deep voice rumbling through her as he leaned closer.

  Please don't kiss me, please don't kiss me.

  Her pulse quickened, skin tingling as he ran a finger along her cheek to move her hair back. He was close enough now that she felt his breath. Close enough for her to smell his sandalwood and pine scent she remembered so well. His muscled torso so close she imagined lifting a hand to run over him, to feel him. She remembered the last time they'd been this close.

  Stop.

  “Thank you,” he whispered, brushing his lips across her cheek. The brief contact sent a jolt through her. She closed her eyes, holding her breath.

  Callan stepped back, “I'll be in touch about Sunday. I'll let myself out.”

  She watched him walk out of the room. He was so tall he almost had to duck as he went through the doorway.

  The soft click of the front door told her he had left.

  She turned back to the flowers. She hadn't noticed the card earlier. She opened the little envelope wondering what he could possibly have had to say.

  His writing was perfect, she didn't know people wrote like that anymore.

  My beautiful Charlotte.

  Her stomach flipped again.

  It could have been so different.

  She felt the sting of tears again. This time, with no-one to see, she let them fall.

  Her phone beeped.

  Excitedly she opened the message.

  Did he bed you again?

  Typical Ferne.

  No, he just left. Going to bed, I'm knackered.

  Chapter 4

  He was sitting on the wall outside the little café-gift shop as agreed, smiling as they approached.

  Keep it relaxed. Relax.

  Enya recognised him immediately, “Zander, it's mummy's friend I told you about. The one from the cake shop.” Zander slowed, grasping Charlotte's hand.

  “Zander, this is Callan, my friend. Callan, this is Zander,” Charlotte said cheerfully. “We've come to show Callan the bay and caves. Is that okay?”

  Callan stayed where he was, that friendly smile still there, waiting patiently.

  “Yeah,” Zander said at last, physically relaxing and releasing his grip on her hand. Charlotte sighed with relief.

  That was easy, it's never that easy…

  Enya skipped off ahead toward the play park, Zander trailing behind her, glancing over his shoulder to see Charlotte was following.

  Callan pushed away from the wall, fell into step at her side and walked with her behind the children.

  “That was too easy. He never accepts new people so quickly,” she said quietly to Callan, careful not to let Zander hear.

  “We'll put it down to luck,” he said quietly with a smile.

  They sat on a bench and watched the children climbing the frames, balancing on the stepping blocks, and negotiating the chain bridges on the play park. The Irish sea stretched out beyond, sun glinting off the water. Sailing boats passed, dogs ran up and down the beach barking, children screaming at the shore line as cold waves washed over their feet.

  “You said you'd been on your own all these years. Has there been anyone significant since the children came?” Callan asked, watching Zander at the very top of the climbing frame.

  “No, I haven't had time,” Charlotte laughed. “What about you? It's clear you aren't married, but, a girlfriend?”

  At the mention of a girlfriend, Charlotte flushed. She remembered how their proximity had affected her two nights before.

  “Nobody caught my attention, no,” he said, smirking.

  She looked at him curiously.

  What does that mean? That can't be true.

  Enya slipped from a stepping block and landed with a thud. Zander scrambled down the frame he was perched on and ran to her. He didn't speak as he placed his hand over her hurt shin and looked her in the eyes.

  “Enya, are you okay?” Charlotte called.

  Zander watched his sister for a second then ran back to the frame, beginning his ascent again.

  “Yeah,” Enya called at last.

  Callan watched their exchange with interest, his brows knotted.

  “Has he always done that?” he asked, watching them carefully.

  “Yeah. She always feels better when he checks her over. He gets to her first every time. Twins and their special bonds,” Charlotte shrugged.

  “Hmm. Where are these caves, then?” Callan asked, turning her attention from the incident.

  “Enya, Zander! Let's show Callan the smugglers caves.”

  The two-mile walk filled an hour. The narrow dirt path they walked followed the cliff edge, a small wooden fence keeping walkers a safe distance from it for most the way. Fields to the right, open sea to the left. The fresh, salty air was warm, despite the lateness of the season.

  Enya skipped ahead, singing to herself. Zander walked behind her, gazing at the sky, then the sea, stopping as a butterfly went dancing past or to watch a bird soar above.

  “I see what you mean, he seems really relaxed,” Callan observed.

  “He does love being outdoors, surrounded by fresh air and open space, animals, and flowers. It's less complicated out here. He can think. Breathe. It makes more sense as you get to know him,” she said, hoping he understood.

  “I'm happiest up a mountain myself,” Callan smiled.

  Does he really get it or is he just making the effort?

  “That's the bay,” she said, pointing down a small gully. “Well, it's more of a cove really. We should have an hour or so before the tide turns.”

  They followed the path down into the gorge and out into the little cove along the stream that let out there. The pebble beach wasn't very big, sheltered among the cliffs, quiet, secluded.

  Zander made for the caves, Enya catching him up, laughing as they ran.

  Charlotte smiled watching them.

  “Be careful! Wait,” she called as she sped up to catch them.

  Callan ran ahead with them.

  Charlotte made her way into the cave to find Enya showing Callan the names etched into the walls.

  This was what they were missing. That extra person to share things with.

  She stood and watched, a strange fuzzy feeling spreading through her as Enya excitedly showed Callan around the cave.

  Don't get too attached. He could disappear at any moment.

  “These are the smugglers names. They've been here a long time,” she explained, tracing the ones she could reach with a finger. Callan discussed the markings with her while Charlotte watched Zander from the cave entrance.

  He was collecting pebbles from the floor, piling them into a bag he'd pulled from his pocket. When he'd carefully chosen suitable ones, he made his way out to a large flat rock and sat cross legged, tipping the stones out. Charlotte found another rock close by and sat down.

  Callan and Enya emerged from the cave, walking to where Zander sat, Callan stopped and admired his perfectly flat, oval pebbles. Zander looked up at him then carried on with his project.

  Callan walked over, leaning against the rock Charlotte was sitting on.

  “She's a clever girl,” he said, watching her with her brother. She cocked her head to the side as Zander arranged his pebbles on the rock.

  “Mmm, too clever sometimes,” Charlotte said, rolling her eyes. Then, more seriously, added, “I'm so proud of her. She takes it all in her stride with Zander.”

  “You've done a good job. They're great kids. Zander is quiet but he's…” Callan didn't finish.

  “What's it doing?” Enya asked, a worried tone to her voice.

  As Charlotte and Callan looked in their direction, the atmosphere suddenly changed. There was a rumble, then a crunch as the rock Zander was sitting on cracked. Rocks started to fall within the cave behind them. The cliff started the crumble, rocks and dirt hissing down toward the children. There were gusts of wind, the sea churning.

  Charlotte shot up and made to run as anoth
er crack sounded and a large section of the cliff above them came crashing down.

  Oh, my god, no. Shit!

  “Zander, run! Enya!”

  The world stopped turning. Rooted to the spot she could hear her pulse in her ears, the rushing of blood as she watched the cliff coming down on top of them.

  I'm going to be sick. Why won't my feet move? Why aren't they running? They'll be crushed!

  She flushed hot then cold, the hair on her arms stood on end, all at the same time. Her mouth was dry. Powerless, she watched her whole world being crushed under dirt and rock.

  Time sped back up. Callan got there first. Crouching in front of Enya, reaching for Zander.

  How did he get there so fast?

  Everything went still. The wind died. The cliff stopped falling, just a trickle of loose earth settling as the world calmed around it.

  Charlotte stared at the spot her children had been almost crushed just moments before. Zander was looking above him, eyes wide, laughing. Enya was standing, arms over her head as if waiting for the falling rocks to hit her. But they didn't. A churning shelf of muddy water hung, impossibly suspended, in the air a few feet above them. Enya looked up, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes were wild pleading, begging someone to help her. In a heartbeat, it all crashed down around them. The rocks had missed them by feet.

  What the… that's not possible. That didn't just happen.

  Callan was kneeling by Zander, silent, one hand on his shoulder. Enya was shaking under Callan's free arm. All three of them were covered in mud, soaked through. Callan, sure that Zander was okay, turned his attention to Enya. She was hysterical, shaking and screaming and he lifted her before she collapsed. All colour had drained from her beautiful face, she looked exhausted.

  “What the hell was that?” Charlotte hissed as she took Enya and rocked her. “Shh, it's okay, you're safe, you're safe,” she murmured, kissing the top of her head. Eventually, she calmed and fell silent.

  Calm. Keep yourself calm. Calm. Breathe.

  Callan seemed to know exactly what she was thinking and said in a calm, soothing voice, “I think we should get them back to the car.” She couldn't read his expression.

  You think?

  “Enya, baby, can you walk? Zander, are you okay?” The little girl was so pale and looked terrified. She shook her head and started to cry.

  Zander walked to her and put his hand on her head.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  Sorry for what?

  Callan took Enya, cradled her in his arms and set off walking back up the gorge. Zander sloped after them before Charlotte could check him over. Charlotte followed. The little stream that was there before was dry.

  It was a tremor. Just a little tremor. I'll report it to the coast guard when we get back to the car, they can make sure it's safe down there. The mud must have fallen and covered them. There must have been some sort of pocket of water up there that came loose…

  Callan looked back at her, that strange expression still etched his face. He gave her a weak smile and faced the way he was going again. Enya had cuddled into his shoulder, arms round his neck as he carried her.

  Zander was peeling off layers of soggy clothing. He hated feeling damp. “I have clothes in the car Zander, just hold off until we get there okay?”

  “Yeah,” he called, dragging his soaked jacket behind him.

  Back at the car, Zander in dry clothes and all sipping a hot chocolate from the nearby café, Charlotte and Callan leaned on the bonnet in silence.

  “Need a lift anywhere?” she asked after a few minutes.

  “Callan, don't leave us yet!” Enya called from the back of the car.

  What?

  “Enya, Callan doesn't have time to…”

  “It's okay, I'll come back for a while. Is that okay Zander?”

  “Yeah,” came the grumbled response.

  “That okay with you, Charlotte?” he asked carefully.

  I don't want to be alone. Not after that.

  “That's fine with me.”

  “I'm staying at the travel inn. I'll meet you back at your house after I've showered and changed.”

  “We can wait in the car park if you want?” She offered.

  “No, I appreciate the lift. You get them home, I'll meet you there.”

  Chapter 5

  Soup and sandwiches, warmed and filled them and they spent the afternoon watching TV.

  Neither of the children mentioned the bizarre events at the caves.

  Showered and in pyjamas, Enya and Zander lounged playing on tablet computers and Charlotte left them to it. It had been a shocking morning, they all just needed to relax.

  Washing the dishes from lunch, Callan and Charlotte were in the kitchen.

  “Charlotte, did you see what happened earlier?” He asked the question carefully, making a point of not looking directly at her.

  “No. Yes. I don't know. It all happened so quickly. One minute they were just playing, the next the cliff was coming down, then you were with them like lightning, then you were all soaked. I don't know,” she shook her head, “I think the shock of them being in danger skewed what I was seeing.” She let out a shaky breath and put her head in her hands. She hadn't let it show earlier, she had to protect Zander. But now, she couldn't stop it.

  Callan was there, pulling her into his arms. She couldn't stop the tears, she sobbed, “What if they'd…”

  “They're fine. Shaken, but unhurt. Enya's exhausted. Did you see what she did?” He was more direct with the question this time.

  It doesn't make any sense.

  She pulled out of his arms and stepped away, rubbing her cheeks with her sleeve. “It's crazy. It looked like she was holding all that mud and water above her head for a few seconds before it fell and covered you all,” she laughed at the ridiculousness of it.

  “Yeah…” He looked thoughtful.

  Yeah? What does he mean, yeah?

  “What does 'yeah' mean? Yes, she held it up above her head? That's ridiculous. Little girls don't… are you drunk?” she hissed.

  “It's… it's possible. There are anecdotes,” he shrugged.

  Charlotte stared at him.

  “Tell me about your mum.”

  “What's she got to do with it?” She asked, puzzled.

  What?

  “You said she used to go to the Beltane ritual every year. Did she do the same with Samhain and the solstices?”

  He remembered that?

  “She did. We both did. What has that got to do with any of this?” she asked, becoming annoyed.

  “Was she a druid?” His blunt tone surprised her.

  Was my mum a druid? Did she skip about in a white pointy hat and live on roadkill and berries?

  “No! Jees, no she just joined in with the community when those events came up. She was a nurse. A woman of science. She lived in a house, not a yurt.” She paused, frowning, “Are you? Is that why you were at the Beltane celebration back then?”

  Why are you being so defensive?

  “No, I'm not a Druid. I follow a similar set of beliefs but I don't follow Druidism,” he said.

  Oh for…

  Charlotte stalked to the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of wine. Unscrewing the top, she slammed it on the kitchen table. Callan passed her a glass from the drainer. She poured, took a large gulp, and sat at the table, fiddling with the stem of the glass.

  “Mum never mentioned why she went to the festivals. She celebrated Easter and Christmas, as well as the pagan ones. I never really thought about it. She started after she split from my dad. Or went back to it. I don't know. So, what if she was? It's just a set of beliefs. It's no different to being Buddhist or Christian, is it?” she asked, grinding her teeth.

  “It's very different. Druids aren't a sect. They're a race. They have their own blood lines, their own,” he paused, searching for the word, “characteristics, that set them apart from others.”

  He's nuts. Well done Charlotte, you've let a
crazy person into your family home, given him access to your children and he's in your kitchen, right now, talking shit!

  She realised she was laughing. She couldn't help it. She had seen her babies, her world, stand inches from death that morning and here he was telling her that she was related to a whole race of legendary people that couldn't really exist.

  Pouring another glass of wine, she said, “Okay, say this stuff is real, my mum was a druid and tiny little Enya held all that water and crap above her head with some sort of invisible shield. What does it mean?” She couldn't keep the derision from her tone.

  If he was in any way offended, he showed no sign. Pulling out a chair, he sat opposite her at the table, hands clasped, and took a breath.

  “It means that Enya is a water wielder and you need to trust me.”

  She snorted and drained her glass, glaring at him. His usually smiling eyes were hard.

  He really believes this shit! Water wielder? Trust him?

  Pushing back her chair with her legs, she stood up and said quietly, “I'm going to order a pizza. Then I'm going to have a shower. When I come back down we'll all eat, the kids will go to bed and we'll continue this… conversation.”

  Callan nodded and watched her leave the room, frowning.

  After they'd eaten the children were ready for bed.

  “Night Callan, thank you for saving me.” Enya gave him a brief hug before she went up the stairs. Zander didn't say anything but Callan smiled and said goodnight as he left the room.

  “I'll be ten minutes,” Charlotte muttered.

  “Take all the time you need, I'll wait here,” he said with a smile.

  Tucking them in, she first sat on Zander's bed, kissed his cheek, and said goodnight. He turned over and settled down. Enya chose a story and settled to listen.

  Given the day's events it was decided that Winnie The Pooh was a safe bet.

  Fifteen minutes later they were both asleep. Charlotte stood at the door, watching them. She heard Callan begin to climb the stairs.

  “Bathroom,” he whispered. She nodded, turning back to her sleeping children. Callan passed her and she turned to leave the room, closing the door behind her.