Riftkeepers: Prime

by Carrie Whitethorne

  “They're better off where they are. Especially that boy of yours.” He was chuckling to himself as he baited her. “And Ferne is a lovely distraction…”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Her head swam, the world tilted. She didn't have the strength to keep this up.

  “You let him down at every turn, didn't you? They really didn't need you,” he laughed. Then he knelt at her side and whispered, “They only needed him.”

  No, no everything has been for them. They're my life.

  Closing her eyes, she swallowed the bile she felt rising in her throat.

  “Please, just kill me,” she whispered.

  “I intend to. Unless you give me what I want,” he growled, his breath hot on her face.

  She sobbed as fear tightened in her aching chest. He pressed his hand down on the top of her head, holding her steady.

  She was ready this time as the icy fingers scraped the veil of her mind. It was brittle, ready to crack. Whatever defence she had was slipping as she became weaker.

  Suddenly fire ripped through her. Boiling in her veins, it roared, blistering, tearing her apart. She felt her back arch and her body slam into the ground, knocking the breath from her failing body.

  The icy fingers scratched at her mind, searching for a way in. She couldn't focus, the thumping in her head slowing, growing stronger, the steady beat filling her ears.

  It was usually over by now, she knew she was at breaking point, that she physically couldn't take any more.

  This is it. I'm going to die.

  The veil tore open.

  No. NO! Whatever he wants he can't take it.

  Gathering what was left of her strength she turned inward, into the darkness of her own mind.

  She'd been here before.

  Where are you?

  Her body still burned. She could feel the searing pain of the fire ravaging her. Somehow, it was easier to handle here. She shut it out as she ran through the darkness.

  Those cruel, probing fingers couldn't follow her here. Not yet. They'd find her eventually, but not yet.

  Where are you? What are you?

  Too tired to keep running, she slowed. Her lungs bursting, fighting against the ache in her ribs as she sucked in tiny breath after tiny breath. Shrouded in the darkness she was safe for now.

  Where are you?

  The fire subsided, now just embers left to smoulder. He'd given up. She stopped and listened. Silence. There was no sound here. Emptiness. Solitude.

  The darkness shifted to violet as a small flame appeared and danced at her feet.

  There you are!

  Lifting the tiny inferno, she cupped it in her hands.

  “Let's keep you safe. I won't let him get to you,” she whispered.

  I need to rest.

  She crept further into the recesses of her mind, searching for a safe corner that he wouldn't reach easily, the violet flame cradled close to her body to hide its glow.

  Too tired to go any further, she sat down and watched the tiny flame. It was so delicate, so frail.

  All of this for tiny little you!

  So, small, so alone. Hiding here in the dark, waiting for help.

  She didn't know how long she could protect it for, but she would try.

  “You're just like my little Zander, he was tiny like you. I looked after him. He's big and strong now. I can look after you. I looked after Enya too. She was like a little fire when she was a baby. You'll be just like her.”

  The flame danced in her cupped hands as she spoke, as if it understood her. She sat and told it all about them, everything from their births to the day she'd left them. It danced and flickered as she laughed and cried, recalling their entire lives.

  I'm never going to see my babies again.

  Her heart broke as she thought of what she'd never see them achieve. Of how far they'd come just the three of them. Zander and Enya were her world, she'd lived and breathed for them from the moment she discovered them.

  They'll be okay. They have Callan.

  It broke all over again as she thought of him. She was his. She never imagined she could feel the way she did about him. Callan completed her. And now she'd lost him forever.

  “They'd love you. You're so perfect. So pretty. Why does he want to snatch you and break you?”

  She lay on her side in the darkness.

  “He took my mum. He destroyed her with his hate. I miss her so much. I won't let him get to you as long as I'm alive.”

  That doesn't feel like it's going to be for long.

  “I'm so sorry I didn't look harder for you before. I didn't know you were here. This is all my fault.”

  She could feel her lungs giving up. Each breath was such a fight. She didn't have the strength left. The charred remains of his attacks were still smouldering within her body, killing her slowly.

  I'm so tired.

  “I won't let you go. I'm just going to close my eyes and rest for a little bit.”

  If it dies with me at least I've kept it from him.

  She felt her wrecked body lurch and settle into soft warmth. It hadn't felt anything like that for… she didn't know. It seemed like forever since she'd last felt anything other than pain. Kissed her children. Held Callan.

  The pounding in her head subsided. The heat in her burning body cooled.

  I'm ready.

  I'm facing forever without them now.

  Mum might be there. She'll make it easier.

  Warmth spread through her. Starting in her head and working slowly through her body.

  “I'm not letting you go,” she whispered as the tiny flame dimmed and sputtered.

  It isn't bad. It's comfortable, warm.

  She closed her eyes, waiting to die.

  Will I see them as I pass through?

  She didn't see the flame spring hot and fierce in her limp palm.

  Chapter 23

  After almost two weeks of pain and darkness, the light was blinding. However much she willed her eyes to open, they wouldn't. The pain was back.

  Why does it hurt? I'm dead, I felt myself die. Why won't the pain stop?

  A sob broke from her. Then another.

  “Charlotte?”

  Her sobs turned to screams. Her screams shifted to a rough, hacking cough that sent bolts of pain searing through her.

  No, I'm not dead. He's here. He's going to…

  Gentle hands held her down. “You're all right. Charlotte look at me.”

  She retched and pushed up on an elbow, turning to vomit. Her body ached with every heave. Everywhere ached.

  “Bollocks!”

  What?

  A hand stroked her hair as her body lurched with violent, dry heaves that seemed to have no end.

  “All right, come on,” the voice said as she was settled onto something soft. Sinking back, she opened her eyes to see Dane kneeling beside her. He looked exhausted. His hair wasn't pulled back as it had been when she'd seen him before. It fell over his eyes in soft, dark waves.

  He saw the fear in her eyes and moved away. His voice was soft as he explained, “You're safe. I found you, I brought you here. W… I healed you. You aren't fixed yet but you're getting there. You've been sleeping it off.”

  He found me? Where's Callan? Where's here?

  “Ferne, he's got Ferne.” she groaned.

  And now he's going to kill her.

  “I've got someone watching her. She's okay.”

  Unable to say any more, she looked around. The room was plainly decorated. Cream walls, blinds on the windows. The furniture was black gloss. Just an average room. There was a widescreen TV at the foot of the bed, it was on but muted. She could smell the leather of the huge bed she was reclined in. The duvet was folded down at her feet. Her cut, splintered legs were bare and she noticed she was wearing a large blue t shirt.

  “Where are my clothes?” she choked.

  He looked down at his hands, fidgeting uncomfortably and said, “Umm, well you were covered in… you'd lost quite a
bit of blood and I couldn't make out where from. Your nose, obviously but they were stuck to you so…”

  Closing her eyes, she held back the tears.

  She felt the bed sag to one side as Dane sat beside her. “Look, we'll get you better and get you home. Shouldn't take too long.”

  Her heart leapt. “You're taking me home?”

  He put an arm around her shoulders, “You really aren't well, Charlotte. What that b… He's done some damage. You're dehydrated, your nose and a couple of ribs are broken. You have a chest infection. There's other stuff, but I can help you.” He reached over her and passed her a small glass of water with a straw. “Small sips.”

  The cool liquid soothed her dry, rough throat. “I just want to go home, Dane,” she rasped as tears fell. He put an arm around her, squeezed her shoulders gently and sat quietly with her until they dried.

  “Sleep, you'll feel better,” he whispered as a thick fog filled her mind. Sinking into it, she relaxed.

  I'm safe. Dane can help me. I'm going home.

  “Please just kill me,” she whispered, silent tears pooling on the pillow.

  “Shh, I've got you. You're okay,” Dane whispered, his voice strained. He cleared his throat quickly. “It's just a dream, you're safe.”

  Just a dream.

  She shuffled closer to the warmth of the body next to her. Not alone. Safe. Warm. He shifted his arm under her head and carefully placed the other around her.

  “Thank you, for not leaving me.”

  Resting his chin on her head, he swallowed.

  “Do you think I could have a bath?” she murmured into his chest.

  “Umm…” he sounded nervous, “Well I don't know if you'd make it in on your own so I'd have to. Well…”

  She looked up at him and said, “You've already changed my clothes. I think we're past that.”

  He laughed softly. “Fair enough. Now or do you want to try something to eat first?”

  “Now. This pain, I need to soak it out.”

  And you stink.

  He left her on the bed and disappeared into the adjoining bathroom.

  Of all the people to be helping me.

  Whatever he'd put in the water smelled divine. He came back into the bedroom holding a fluffy bath sheet. “Can you get that top off?” he asked, looking uncomfortable.

  “I'll manage, thanks.” He left her to undress.

  It took some effort but she eventually got the top off. Wrapping the towel around her she stood by the bed and shuffled out of her underwear.

  Taking slow, wobbly steps she made her way into the bathroom. One wall was entirely mirrored. There was no escaping her own reflection. Dane watched her closely, his eyes searching her face for any sign of a response. She stepped closer.

  Her hair, matted with blood and dirt, framed her bloody, bruised face. Her lip hadn't healed much. The angry wound was almost black, surrounded by swollen bruised skin. Her nose, split across the bridge, was lightly bruised. Blood was still crusted around her nostrils. The bruises beneath her eyes were like deep purple and black clouds, puffy and angry. There were various scrapes and cuts across her face from being dragged around but the bruising was, thankfully, limited.

  The veins along her neck were black. Raising a hand, she traced them to her collarbone. Dane moved and stood behind her. Making eye contact through the mirror he murmured “I can fix that.”

  Blood was still crusted on her chest, mingled with dust and dirt. It was dry and itchy. Her arms weren't in any better condition. Black bruises circling her upper arms, scratches and black lines marring her skin down to the fingertips. Her wrists were healing, the marks there weren't so angry.

  “Can you really?” she asked in a shaky voice.

  “Yep. I'll change the bed while you clean your teeth,” he smiled and passed her a toothbrush.

  “Please, leave the door open.”

  Last time I was in a bathroom I was…

  He didn't take long and knocked before he came back into the room. “Come on, let's get you in. It's going to sting a bit…”

  Oh, it stung. Every scratch, cut and splinter screamed as she sank into the bubbles.

  “I'll come back,” he said, retreating to the door.

  “No, please! Please don't leave me on my own,” she choked.

  He hung his head for a second and turned back, sitting on the floor with his back to the mirrored wall.

  She closed her eyes and let the heat of the water sooth her muscles. Everything ached. “How did you find me?”

  Why didn't Callan find me?

  “I knew you were missing. Everyone was looking for you. Half the county was crawling with fae. I took some time away from work and concentrated on tracking peaks in shadow energy springing up. He was careful, never channelling for too long. That's why it took me so long to find you. I'm sorry.” She couldn't see him, where he was sat, but she heard the guilt in his voice.

  “What happened?” she pressed.

  “He… he went too far. He very nearly…”

  “I knew. I was ready.” She almost choked as the lump forming in her throat cut her off.

  He leaned over the bath, his hair falling forward. “I know. I don't know how you held on for so long,” he pressed his forehead to hers. “I'm so sorry Charlotte. You shouldn't have had to endure that. I let you down.” His eyes had faded to a deep grey.

  How? You found me.

  “I'd have died if you hadn't found me. You don't need to apologise.”

  He pulled away and helped her lather a rich coconut shampoo into her hair, rubbing out the clumps of dried blood, then moved over to the shower and turned it on. “You're going to need to get in here, rinse it off. I won't look.”

  Perfect…

  Clean, dry, and back on the bed, Charlotte felt a little bit more like herself. Dane had found her a pair of soft cotton shorts and a t shirt to wear.

  Dane sat behind her, gently brushing out her hair and asked, “Are you going to try something to eat? Just some soup or toast?”

  “I'm probably better with soup. Get a bucket though,” she muttered.

  Jumping off the bed he chuckled and left the room.

  He was only gone a few minutes, returning with two mugs of steaming soup, two bottles of water and a handful of straws.

  “Slowly. What shall we do tonight then?” he asked as he jumped back onto the bed.

  This isn't how he was back at the palace.

  “Umm… I hadn't thought about it, funnily enough. What are the options?”

  “We can binge watch box sets, watch a film or play video games.” He drank his mug of soup and watched her as she decided.

  “Box sets I think,” she said and he immediately left the room. “Comedy,” she croaked after him.

  He returned seconds later, holding a stack of DVD box sets, and no mug. “Take your pick. I've seen them all.”

  She chose a sketch show series. Sitting propped with pillows she slowly made her way through her soup and some water. Comedy was a mistake. The more she laughed the more she coughed.

  “If you can manage to take a tablet I've got you some antibiotics for that,” Dane offered.

  Oh, thank god!

  “Give them a couple of days to kick in and I'll get this fixed too,” he murmured running a finger over the black veins of her wrists. His eyes were so sad, she felt her chest tighten. “We need to think about those splinters in your feet. They're going to get infected.”

  She hated people touching her feet. “I need some tweezers and antiseptic. I'll do it.”

  She couldn't. She couldn't sit that far forward without pain slicing through her right side. Dane took over. His warm, gentle hand cupped her heel as he carefully picked the tiny pieces of wood from the soles of her feet.

  “I didn't know you bought into modern medicine,” she mused as he worked at removing the splinters.

  “Why wouldn't we? It's just evolved from what the druids developed, alongside the magical healing properties they've al
ways had of course. We can heal, to a certain extent, depending on skill set but for stuff like infection modern medicine's always helpful.”

  “Suppose so. Is that it?”

  “What I can get without breaking the skin. I'll look again in a couple of days.” He wiped her feet over with cotton wool and antiseptic and shuffled up the bed beside her. She'd wandered off into her own thoughts.

  “Want to tell me about it?” he asked.

  “Hmm? About what?” she asked, cocking her head.

  “What happened.”

  “I dunno. It's weird. The last of it happened in my head. Apart from the beatings and the, well whatever that is,” she shrugged and rubbed her wrist.

  It sounds mental.

  “Yeah? Like what?” he asked, his interest piqued.

  She told him about the way he'd probed at her mind, the thin veil that grew more and more brittle. How she mentally fled into the safety of the darkness when it shattered.

  He listened carefully, nodding his head, eyes glinting bright silver.

  “I found what he was looking for. It was beautiful. So, tiny. I tried to protect it but I couldn't,” she said sadly. “I didn't have the strength. He must have taken it when I…” Her eyes filled as she thought about her tiny flame, how she failed it.

  His eyes dancing, he gently took her face in both hands and kissed her. “He didn't, I bloody knew it,” he said, grinning.

  What?

  She frowned at him, brows pulled in.

  He rubbed the fingers of one hand together and shadow spread along the tips. “Can you show me? I promise it won't hurt. I'd never hurt you,” he said, so softly she could barely hear him. She inched away.

  Last time someone was in my head…

  He reached for her hand, squeezing gently, and said, “It won't take long. It won't hurt. You're in control now.”

  She relaxed and nodded her head.

  “Close your eyes,” he whispered. “Show me where you were.”

  He took her hand in the darkness.

  How is he here?

  She gripped it and walked. She knew exactly where she was going this time.

  She saw the violet glow before he did. Quickening her pace, she pulled him after her.