Riftkeepers: Prime

by Carrie Whitethorne

  They drove north, to the tiny village of Thundergay. Callan parked on a small access road and they followed a signpost up a small track. Passing through a small gate, they walked the gently sloping footpath.

  Wow you're unfit.

  Crossing a small ford the ground became rocky. The small stream passed them on the left as they continued. Mountains loomed on all sides, blanketed in heather and bracken, they took on a purple hue. Enya was getting tired so Callan sat her on his shoulders as he walked. He didn't appear to tire at all. Zander walked steadily on, gazing at the passing fields, low clouds casting swiftly moving shadows on the landscape.

  “Where are, we going? We've been walking forever,” Charlotte complained.

  “Nearly there,” Callan laughed.

  The ground levelled off, the ache in her legs forgotten as she took in the view. The stream they'd followed flowed from a beautiful little lake. Bordered by heather covered hills on three sides, it was sheltered and secluded. The path opened onto a small area of sandy beach, the low sun glinting on the still water.

  “Oh Callan, this is the most beautiful place I've ever seen,” she gasped. He lifted Enya down from his shoulders and she ran to the little beach where Zander had sat.

  “I used to come here a lot. Less so in recent years, but it's one of my favourite places.” Taking her hand, he led her to a rock not far from the water's edge. “I thought we could see what Enya can do with the water here. There's no-one around, it's open and safe,” he said. “It's getting late, so I thought a little try and home?”

  Safe? I don't think it's safe at all. A six-year-old and that amount of water sounds like danger to me.

  She pulled a face.

  Callan put an arm around her shoulders. “Honestly, she's fine. I'll move her to that rock over there if there's any sign of trouble.”

  Okay, better here with us than elsewhere with the pressure of others.

  “Enya, can you come here?” she called, reluctantly.

  Curls bouncing, Enya skipped over, grinning. Callan knelt in front of her. “Can you try some water magic for me?”

  “Ooh, yeah,” she squealed and ran to the water.

  Charlotte stayed where she was and called Zander over to sit with her. “She's practicing her water magic. We need to stay back here so she doesn't soak us,” she explained.

  Zander smiled broadly, “Can I practice mine next?”

  The question caught her off guard.

  They need to learn, you must let them learn. Callan won't let them come to any harm.

  “I'm sure you can have a go next time,” she put an arm around him and he cuddled into her side as he watched the water closely.

  They couldn't hear what Callan was saying, his voice was low and soft as he instructed her. Next to his hulking frame she looked so small. So, fragile. Her copper curls fell over her face as she bent her head to watch his hands.

  The air was becoming cooler now. The sun, already low in the sky, was losing its warmth as it began to set.

  Enya turned toward the water again with one hand outstretched. The other hung limp at her side. The still waters of the tarn stirred. Slowly they began to move, gathering pace as they gathered in. Charlotte stared, awestruck, as the waters began to eddy. Faster and faster they spun, a vortex forming at the centre of the Tarn. Enya didn't move. Keeping her hand outstretched she shouted “Look, Mummy look I'm doing it!” The excitement in her voice had Charlotte's heart leaping.

  “I can see. That's amazing. Well done sweetheart!”

  She's controlling water, moving it!

  Callan placed a hand on her shoulder and murmured something else. Immediately the waters calmed, soft waves lapping the shoreline as the waters returned to normal. He gave her a high five, lifted her up and carried her over to where Charlotte and Zander were sitting.

  “Did you see, mummy? Zander, did you? I made a whirlpool!” she gushed.

  “Yeah, 'mazin!” Zander exclaimed. “Me now?”

  Callan smiled. “Yep. Let's see what you can do.”

  What? That isn't what I meant…

  Before Charlotte could protest, Zander had jumped from the rock and ran to Callan. Smirking back at her, he took Zander by the hand and led him to the sandy bay on the edge of the tarn.

  Charlotte grasped Enya and pulled her close, more for her own comfort than safety.

  Again, Callan crouched, muttering instructions and demonstrating with his hands. He looked Zander in the eyes, said something else and formed a circle in the air with a finger. Zander was nodding, taking in everything he was being told. Callan patted his shoulder and stepped back.

  She could see him clearly from where she sat. His face blank, he raised a hand, just as Enya had done. Carefully, he drew a circle through the sand.

  There was a quiet rumble. The pebbles around Zander started to vibrate, then bounce on the ground. The circle he'd traced cracked free from the rest of the sand at his feet, then he stood up, his hand guiding a column of sand up from the ground. When it reached his waist height the column stopped and Zander flicked his eyes up at Callan. More murmured instructions, a brief nod of understanding and he pushed the column back into the ground.

  Amazing. Impossible, but amazing.

  “Mummy he did it!” Enya was just as thrilled with his attempt as she was with her own.

  “Yeah he did. You're both brilliant.”

  Zander came running over, shouting, “I did it!”

  She pulled them both into a hug.

  Callan strode over smiling. “You're both very clever. Honestly, Charlotte, that level of control this early on is unbelievable.”

  “That's a good sign. No more collapsing things then,” she said to Zander, laughing.

  The sun was setting. Checking her phone Charlotte gasped, “It's half past five. It'll be dark in an hour and it's a long walk to the car.”

  Callan grinned, “Who wants to see more magic?”

  No, I don't want to pop home.

  “What about the car?” she asked nervously.

  He saw her expression and laughed. “It isn't going anywhere. One of us can get it tomorrow, okay, everyone hold hands. Big circle.”

  Enya and Zander took a hand each enthusiastically.

  I really don't have a choice now.

  She took the hands of each child and looked at Callan. Still laughing he looked down and said “Okay, mummy's a bit scared. Count to three for her and by the time you're done we'll be home. Ready?”

  They made it to two.

  Everything went black. She was nowhere. She couldn't see or hear a thing. A silent wind whipped her body and she couldn't catch her breath. She was falling. Plummeting.

  Oh, god the kids will be terrified.

  She squeezed their hands and they squeezed back.

  Okay, they're okay.

  Then it was bright. Bright light everywhere. The wind had stopped. She took a deep breath and looked for the children to find them giggling and grinning at her.

  Typical! They would love that sort of thing.

  After a simple dinner of chicken nuggets and chips for the kids, steak and salad for Charlotte and Callan, they all settled in the lounge. Charlotte was reading more of the Myths and Legends book she'd started, trying to familiarise herself with the impossible.

  “Today was amazing mummy, thank you…” Enya didn't finish. She had a puzzled look on her face when Charlotte looked up to see what was wrong.

  She hung her head and said nothing more.

  “What's wrong baby?”

  Colour rushed to her little face and she whispered, “I don't know if it's still Callan or if it's Daddy…”

  Zander looked up from his tablet, interested in where the conversation was going. He clearly had the same question on his mind.

  Callan sat forward and asked, “Which would you prefer?”

  “Daddy.” The answer didn't come from Enya but she nodded in agreement.

  Tears pricking her eyes, Charlotte left the room.

/>   Callan found her in the kitchen, wiping her cheeks.

  “They simplified that for us,” he murmured into her hair as he pulled her into his chest.

  “Yeah, they did,” she sniffed and stood in his arms for a long moment.

  “Mummy can I go to bed? I'm really tired.” Enya was at the kitchen door, smiling as she watched them.

  “If you want to. I'll be up in a minute.”

  “'Night Daddy,” she sang as she skipped to the stairs.

  “Goodnight bana-phrionnsa,” he called softly after her as he walked into the hallway.

  Zander made his way up the stairs after her. “'Night Daddy,” he muttered in his usual, low tone.

  “Goodnight Mo Prionnsa.”

  Charlotte braided Enya's hair for bed and read them a story. Neither of them made it to the end before they had fallen asleep.

  It must have taken so much out of them doing what they did today. Madness, all of it.

  How can they just accept all of this? Do kids do that? Zander's never trusted anyone in his life but here it's like he's always known everyone.

  Shrugging she closed their door behind her and turned to head down the stairs. Before she hit the first step she heard voices.

  Dagda. News. And from the tone it doesn't sound good.

  Chapter 12

  They were in the lounge. Dagda was standing in front of the fireplace, hands behind his head.

  Shit he's huge.

  Callan was sitting on the sofa, head back.

  “What's wrong?” she asked carefully.

  “Father's called a council meeting. We're all summoned, including you.”

  Great, a royal summons.

  “Okay. I'm sure we can handle that. Why the tension?”

  “You're expected first thing but first you need filling in on some things we've discovered before you meet our father. Carlie's on her way. Cal, can you open the window for her?”

  Once the window was open he strode into the kitchen, leaving her with Dagda. He was really intimidating when he was all stressed and looming like that. It must have been written on her face.

  “Sorry,” he said, sitting down, pushing a hand through his hair.

  “It's fine. Don't mind me.”

  “I forget how small you are,” he laughed his familiar booming laugh.

  “Petite,” she corrected. He laughed again, grinning.

  Callan returned with a tray holding four glasses. Ice clinked as he walked. One red wine for her and three large measures of what she assumed was whisky.

  “I assume they did well today?” Dagda asked, lifting a glass, and taking a long swallow.

  “I'm sure you'd think so. They didn't kill anyone if that's what you mean,” Charlotte said dryly.

  “You need to relax,” Callan chided. “They're much more talented than we first believed.”

  Relax? This isn't normal. Any of it, they're human.

  “Good. Blair wants to meet them tomorrow. He'll put them through their paces while we're at the meeting. Alayna will stay with them. In fact, we may be quite busy over the next week or so. Alayna has offered to watch them while we're all at the palace.”

  “Sorry, what?” She almost choked on her drink. “Week or so? We're being kept there for a week? They're children, Dagda, not little soldiers for you to put through their paces! And has everyone forgotten that we had a life back there, before we came here? Before this?” Her voice was rising in pitch as she stood up and faced the colossus lounged on the sofa. He didn't react, save for a slight incline of his head. “MY children stay with ME!”

  The ego on him! Pompous prick, I could slap him!

  Callan grabbed her around the waist as she took a step toward him. “Calm down. We'll work all of this out tomorrow. And you,” he turned his attention to Dagda, eyes flashing. “Remember who you're talking to!”

  Dagda lowered his eyes, “I'm sorry Charlotte. I didn't mean to upset you.”

  “Yeah… Well,” she sputtered and marched into the kitchen.

  Callan was right behind her. Setting the tray on the worktop he said, “I told you he can be a bit much, he doesn't think. Please, don't be angry with him. He's worried. We're all worried.” He held out a hand but she shrugged away.

  “I'm all they've ever had, Callan. I've always had to make the decisions. I'm not used to other people making them for us.” His expression altered. That remorseful look was back. “It isn't your fault. It's how it is,” she snapped. She was struggling to control her tone so she stopped talking and drank her wine.

  On the wine, again. Is this how I'm going to handle them? Get pissed and hope for the best?

  She sighed and walked back into the lounge, choosing to sit opposite Dagda on the other sofa.

  They sat in awkward silence for a few long minutes before Carlie soared through the open window. She landed with all the grace Charlotte remembered from the night before, transforming into her human self with the same flash blue light.

  “What's he said?” she asked, instantly picking up the tension in the room.

  Charlotte looked away, Callan passed her drink and Dagda straightened. “I spoke out of turn.” He looked directly at Charlotte, “It won't happen again.”

  “Sorry I shouted,” she muttered into her glass.

  “Well, now we're all friends again I have bad news and worse news,” Carlie announced, taking a seat beside Charlotte.

  Callan remained by the fireplace.

  Turning to Charlotte she said, “There's no gentle way of doing it so I'll just have to say it. I pinned my father down and insisted he tell me all he knew about why your mum left our community. He was reluctant, but he'd kept her secret for decades so I really don't blame him.”

  She sighed and took a deep breath. She didn't look at either of the men in the room as she continued. “They were very close, best friends all their lives, until she met your father.” She paused to drink, then went on, “They met when she was in training. She was a very gifted healer and decided to train in nursing to help people beyond our community.”

  “Why?” Charlotte asked, puzzled.

  Why would she leave the safety of her own family?

  “Loads of us do it. We can help more people,” she shrugged. “Anyway, they met at a party, she got drunk and told him all about herself. Of course, he was intrigued and she was enamoured by the attention he poured on her.”

  Sounds familiar.

  Charlotte didn't interrupt, paying close attention to everything her cousin was saying.

  “He researched the history of our people, the magic we possess. He dug deeper and deeper until he found someone who pointed him towards harnessing his own power. He started dabbling with shadow magic. He was obsessed, then became paranoid believing your mum thought she was superior to him somehow. Naturally, your mum panicked. She told my dad all that was happening and he begged her to leave him, to come back. She refused and soon she cut all ties with our community.”

  Callan and Dagda listened, watched but said nothing. Charlotte shifted her weight and drained her glass, a knot forming in her stomach. Callan refilled it over her shoulder.

  The atmosphere changed subtly as Carlie sighed. A sadness came over her, her voice thick with emotion as she went on, “My father stayed in touch by letter, but she didn't tell him any more about what was going on. For twenty years, she stayed away. Your father physically aged. She didn't. Then she had you and she came back to visit. I remember you, I was only young but I remember,” she smiled. “When you were born, he delved deeper into his research,” she said the last word with such venom Charlotte thought she was going to spit.

  “When you were four he did something reckless, he summoned something. Nobody knows exactly what he did but his power had grown. When you were six, she ran. She wrote and told my father where she was going but nobody else. She changed her name and settled, quietly in that little village.”

  She paused and drained her glass. Handing it to Callan she sat quietly while he filled it. She
was tense, her jaw clenched as she sat silently, considering her next words carefully.

  Why don't I know any of this? Why would mum hide her entire existence, a family from me?

  She swallowed the lump forming in her throat as Callan walked around and sat next to her, filling her glass, and setting the bottle on the coffee table.

  “He found her. He'd been hunting you both down for years but he never found you. The house must have been warded because he never found it. From what my father could make out, from the wreck of her car, he tracked her away from home and it had been lifted and flipped on its roof…” Tears were streaming down her face. She couldn't say any more.

  She shook her head as Charlotte reached for her and pulled her into her arms.

  None of them spoke. She didn't let Carlie go as silent sobs shook her entire body.

  She'd never felt pain like it. It was worse than the first time, when she'd been told her mum was gone. It all flooded back.

  The police had tracked her down in a lecture. She didn't remember exactly what they said or the drive home in their car. What she did remember was the emptiness, the hollowed out feeling in her chest, a wound that didn't seem to want to close. She remembered her disbelief at what she'd been told, the certainty that they'd made a mistake.

  Now, the wound her grief had left tore wide apart, fresh, and raw and more painful than she remembered. The pain was mixed with something new, she realised. An alien emotion.

  After what seemed a long, long time, Carlie's tears subsided and she sat up. “I'm so sorry Charlotte.”

  Something shifted. The sadness and desolation turned to anger. Anger to outright fury. A calm fell over her.

  He murdered her. He caused her to crash her car.

  She looked to Dagda and said, “I assume this all ties in to the events last night? My psychopath father has found a way of stealing the power in these stone circles?”

  Dagda cleared his throat and said, “It would appear so. Yes.”

  “And everyone is aware of this now and the meeting tomorrow is to discuss what's going to happen?” Her tone was cool. Steady.

  “Yes.”

  She met Dagda's gaze and said, “Well someone had better be planning to kill him.”