Merlin's Children (The Children and the Blood)

by Megan Joel Peterson

  Ashe glanced to Cole. His gaze on the ruins, he gave no sign he’d heard the exchange.

  Irritation increasing, she made herself look away from him. It wasn’t like he’d tell the truth anyway. And as far as everything else was concerned, they didn’t have a whole lot of choice, given that none of them could exactly go to the cops for answers and they hadn’t seen a neighbor for twenty miles.

  “Where are they?” she asked.

  “Um… back down the highway,” Lily answered, eyeing Cole worriedly. “Maybe a few hours south.”

  “Alright,” Ashe said. “Let’s go.”

  The little girl hurried around to the passenger side while Spider tugged open the door.

  Ashe drew a breath, reaching for the rusted handle, and then paused. Cole hadn’t moved.

  “After you,” she said acidly.

  He blinked again and looked over. Her eyebrow twitched up, and a flicker of anger tightened his expression in response.

  And then he got in.

  She closed her eyes, willing herself not to hurt him, and then climbed into the car.

  *****

  The engine clanked and smoke rose from beneath the hood. Every light on the dashboard had given up hours before, though the temperature gauge was still screaming bloody murder. Behind the wheel, Ashe looked like she’d come to the conclusion she was holding the bronze clunker together by willpower alone, while in the seat beside him, Spider occasionally muttered something about thanking Blackjack for his generosity in giving them the car.

  As the vehicle shuddered over another bump, Cole shifted on the musty seat and returned his gaze to the window. In the time since they’d left the manor, the landscape had slowly flattened around them, with the familiar spread of farmlands gradually replacing the spruce-covered hillsides the Carnegeans had called home. Cows and harvested fields surrounded the country road, both of them touched with gold by the sinking sun.

  And no matter how he tried, he couldn’t let himself be calmed by any of it.

  He didn’t know why the deaths – possible deaths – of the Carnegeans bothered him so much. His grandparents had been monsters. Egomaniacal to an extreme, they hadn’t cared about their own daughter, let alone the rest of the people dying while they hid in luxurious safety. And that didn’t even bring into it the fact they’d tried to kill him and Lily.

  But for some reason, that reality wasn’t making his discomfort go away.

  His dad might not have killed them. Ashe could be right – about that, if nothing else. They’d hidden once. And they must’ve made it look convincing that time too. For all he knew, the bastards actually were living it up in a mansion in Orlando or wherever, just like he’d been trying to make Ashe believe.

  He shifted on the seat. Though, what the hell did it matter if the Blood had killed them? His dad still didn’t have Lily or Ashe. Wouldn’t, if Cole had anything to do with it. The rest was immaterial. The world was better off without them.

  And Lily’s family. And the councils. And his…

  He shoved the thought away swiftly. He didn’t know anything about his mom. Clara had been a victim of the war, according to his dad. That didn’t mean Victor had killed her too. And just because he’d never answered any questions about it, and just because his people had possibly wiped out her parents like a demolition team from hell, didn’t mean she was gone.

  Drawing a breath, he forced himself to refocus. He was getting upset over nothing.

  Except having handed them over to his father.

  He paused in the middle of reading a billboard for an apple farm, the words becoming instant gibberish. He’d told his dad about the Carnegeans. About their location, their archives and everything he knew. And, two days later, they were possibly dead. Very, very possibly dead.

  Breathing hard, he turned his gaze from the window, though it just caught on Ashe. Gripping the wheel, she was trying to give Lily a reassuring smile as an engine belt squealed, but even he could see the worry fracturing her expression.

  She wasn’t a good person either. She wasn’t. She’d killed people, untold numbers of people, and there was still every chance she’d do worse than his dad if she got her hands on the spell. Just because he’d given up information on her too didn’t mean he’d been wrong.

  His stomach rolled. He pulled his gaze back to the window, silently cursing it.

  The Carnegeans weren’t good people, though. For pity’s sake, they’d tried to kill their own grandson. Surely that counted for something on the grand scales of the universe? Made this karmic justice in a way.

  That argument settled even worse than the previous one.

  He scowled. He just needed to get over it. Chances were, the bastards were fine. They were probably tucked away in a palace somewhere, whining about their deplorable conditions and suffering, and if they’d known he was beating himself up over their possible deaths, they’d have just chalked it up to his cripple inferiority and laughed.

  Really, he should hope they were dead.

  The car bounced over another pothole, sending a spring jabbing into his leg.

  “Much farther?” Ashe asked Lily tensely.

  Clutching the door and her seat as though to keep from falling from the car, Lily shook her head. “Uh-uh. It’s just a – there. See it?”

  She pointed toward the pinnacle of a brown-shingled roof beyond the trees, and then gripped the seat again.

  “You’ll like Sue,” the little girl added hopefully. “She kind of reminds me of Rose.”

  Ashe glanced over, giving Lily a smile, though the expression didn’t touch the fleeting pain he saw in her eyes. Returning her attention to the smoke separating them from the road, she eased the car around the turn into the long driveway.

  The engine shuddered, growling in time with the gravel beneath the wheels. He barely noticed, his gaze locked on the white farmhouse. A large autumn wreath had been added beside the wooden screen door since last he was there, and the oak tree in the front lawn now wore brilliant shades of red and gold, but otherwise, nothing had changed.

  He felt like he was looking at the memory of a dream.

  With a diminishing growl, the car pulled to a stop a dozen feet shy of the house, and with effort, Ashe shoved the gearshift into park.

  “Stay–” she started, turning to Lily.

  The little girl was already halfway out the door.

  With a furious noise, Ashe spun and followed Lily from the car, and over the hood, he could hear her berating the girl while he and Spider climbed out.

  The screen door swung open, and Ashe cut off, her gaze snapping toward the porch as though pulled by a string. An overloaded bag of vegetables in her arms, Sue backed awkwardly out the door and then turned.

  She froze.

  “Hannah?” she gasped. “Paul?”

  He could feel the other girls’ caution, for all that the woman didn’t look like a Blood, and he saw Ashe glance to Spider swiftly, seeking confirmation.

  “Ben!” Sue yelled over her shoulder. “It’s Paul and Hannah!”

  Not waiting for her husband, she plopped the bag by the porch swing and then ran down the stairs, ignoring the vegetables as they toppled to the ground. Ashe started forward, making it a few steps before the woman reached Lily and fell to her knees to wrap the girl in a hug. Eyes widening, Ashe went rigid, and furtively, he motioned to her, trying to forestall any explosive intervention.

  The girl glanced to him. Drawing a microscopic breath, she shifted her weight slightly, as though forcing herself not to strike out.

  “We thought–” Sue started, and then she gave another gasp. “Oh, it doesn’t matter what we thought. I’m just so glad… so, so glad…”

  She looked to him and her words trailed off, the relief on her face transforming into concern. Letting her grip on Lily relax, she began climbing to her feet, only to glance over her shoulder as the screen door opened again.

  “Ben,” she said, and Cole could hear the gratitude in her voice. She turned
back to Lily, and then paused as she suddenly seemed to notice the other two girls. A doubtful look flitted through her eyes, strengthening as she took in Spider’s appearance.

  “You kids alright?” Ben called.

  Cole nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Who are your friends?” Sue asked.

  He could hear the careful treatment she gave the description, despite her pleasant tone. Her hand closed around Lily’s shoulder, pulling the little girl a bit nearer to her side.

  Ashe tensed all over again.

  “Uh, right,” Cole said, watching Ashe as he wracked his brain for names. “Sue, Ben, this is, um…”

  “Jane,” Spider cut in easily.

  “Sarah,” Ashe managed after a moment’s hesitation.

  “Nice to meet you,” Sue said, still eyeing them both. “I’m Sue Summers, and this is my husband, Ben.”

  “Pleasure,” Spider replied respectfully.

  Sue gave her a polite smile.

  “So, um, we were out camping,” Cole offered into the brief silence, hurrying to prevent any more questions. “And we just got back to the, uh, Redmond’s…”

  Sue’s guarded expression melted back into concern and she looked to Ben for help.

  “What happened?” Cole asked.

  Ben hesitated. “Maybe you kids should come inside, eh?”

  “Are they dead?” he pushed.

  “Paul.”

  At the iron in the man’s voice, Cole paused and then looked away in frustration.

  His gaze landed on Lily.

  The tension leaked from him, leaving only a feeling of stupidity. No matter what’d happened, it probably hadn’t been pretty. And thus Lily didn’t need to hear about it. She already had enough nightmares.

  “Okay,” he surrendered, motioning to Sue and Lily and then trailing them to the steps.

  Gravel crunched immediately as Ashe followed.

  The familiar smells of apple and cinnamon hit him as he came through the door, emanating from the homemade satchels hanging from the hooks on the entryway wall. Through the open space leading to the living room, more country crafts met his gaze, from the afghans Lily used to curl up under on cool nights to the handstitched pillows Sue favored so much. A bouquet of mums had taken the place of the summer flowers in the bay window at the front of the house, and a stack of wood waited by the fireplace, ready for the coming winter.

  It all felt alien after the past few weeks.

  “Oh!” Lily cried, coming to a stop. “Is that Butterscotch?”

  He glanced over, spotting the potbellied tabby flopped behind the flower vase on the windowsill. At the sight of Lily, the animal rolled to her feet and then lumbered down from her post to bump her head against the girl’s leg.

  “She’s gotten so huge!” Lily exclaimed, crouching to scratch the loudly purring cat.

  “I think she missed you,” Sue answered with a smile.

  The woman looked to Cole and he could see the request.

  “Hey, Hannah?” he said. “Why don’t you take Butterscotch over to the couch before she hurts herself? We’ll just be in the kitchen.”

  Lily glanced up, instantly reading between the lines. “I can–”

  “Please?”

  The little girl paused, her eyes flicking between him and Ashe. “Fine.”

  Scooping up the purring creature, she headed for the sofa.

  Sue gave Cole a grateful smile and then continued down the hall.

  “You want me to stay?” he heard Spider ask Ashe quietly.

  He looked back. As tense as ever, Ashe looked from the large window to Lily, and then glanced to the archway at the far end of the room that afforded a view of the brightly sunlit kitchen. “No,” she said tightly. “Thanks. I’ll just…”

  She motioned to the opening haltingly and then headed after Sue.

  Cole glanced to Spider, but the girl just lifted an eyebrow at him, waiting.

  He followed Ashe. In the kitchen, the wizard girl leaned against the archway, her arms crossed and her gaze darting from the Summers to Lily and back. For their part, Sue and Ben were retrieving refreshments from the refrigerator, while awkwardly trying to pretend that having an edgy teenager watching their every move was remotely ordinary.

  Fighting back a grimace, he sank onto a barstool by the island at the center of the room. Spider immediately took the seat next to him. Her gaze twitched across the windows above the kitchen sink and in the mudroom and, after she moved slightly to have a better sightline on both, she turned a look on him that made only the barest pretense of being a smile.

  He shifted in his chair, fighting the urge to scoot farther from the girl, and forced his attention to the couple by the refrigerator. “So what happened?” he asked.

  Sue paused in the middle of pulling out a bottle of orange juice and looked to her husband.

  Reluctance flashed across Ben’s face. “Sheriff said he thought it was probably a break-in,” he said. “Just based on what they found and…”

  He trailed off uncomfortably.

  “What do you mean?” Ashe asked.

  Ben glanced over at her. “That’s not really important.”

  Cole could see the muscles in the girl’s jaw jump. “We need to know–”

  “When?” Cole interrupted.

  Ashe’s gaze darted to him, but she stayed silent.

  “About two days ago,” Ben said.

  Cole looked down, his brow furrowing as he processed the information and all it meant.

  “Did they find any bodies?” Ashe asked.

  He glanced up in time to see Sue’s eyebrows rise.

  “Young lady, don’t you think you’re being a bit–”

  “Sue,” he cut in.

  The woman looked to him.

  “They might not have been home.”

  Sue hesitated, her indignation fading, but by her side, Ben just grimaced. “They did,” the man said.

  Cole’s gaze found its way back to the tabletop. He shouldn’t be upset. It didn’t matter if they were dead or why. They hadn’t been good people. The world was better off with them gone.

  The nausea eating his stomach didn’t quite see the value of his reasoning.

  “Are they sure it was them?” he heard Ashe ask after a moment.

  By the counter, Ben shifted uncomfortably. “Yeah. I… I identified them.”

  Cole looked up. “You were there?”

  Ben’s jaw worked around. “Sue and I…” he glanced to his wife. “We were curious–”

  “Worried,” the woman amended as she poured orange juice into a set of tall glasses.

  Ben’s mouth tightened. “When we didn’t hear anything from you kids after that first phone call. We rang up there a couple times, but Geoffrey always answered. Just said you were having fun and not to worry.” Ben looked to his wife. “Didn’t seem quite right. So two days back, Wally and I – he’s one of the new guys I got working for me since you left – we headed up there on pretense of delivering some samples of Sue’s newest recipes and…” he grimaced. “We got there in time to see the fire engines heading out.”

  He sighed. “Sheriff’s an old friend of her dad’s,” he said with a nod to Sue. “When he realized we’d been doing business with the Redmonds, he asked me to take a look. Make sure it was them.”

  Ben paused. “I’m sorry, Paul.”

  Cole looked away, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Ashe do the same.

  “We’re just glad you kids weren’t there,” Sue said, putting a hand on his shoulder as she set the orange juice down beside him.

  Taking the glass, he managed a nod, though the motion was only for show. Fact was, he and Lily wouldn’t have been there. And if they had, it wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Of course, then he and Lily would also be dead.

  The Carnegeans hadn’t been good people. They’d deserved what happened to them. They’d been horrible, wretched excuses for human beings, and –

  “The break-in,” he heard Ashe
begin. “You said something about what they found.”

  And he’d killed them.

  He tensed. His father’s people had killed them. They’d murdered his grandparents, whom he didn’t even like.

  But they’d done it because of him.

  All because of him.

  “That’s not–” Ben protested again.

  “Ben,” Cole interrupted, his heart pounding. He looked up, meeting the older man’s eyes. “Tell me what they did.”

  “I don’t think we need to go into that.”

  “Ben.”

  “It’s not important,” the man tried.

  A chill moved through him, distant and strange. “Yes it is,” he said quietly.

  For a moment, the man watched him, and slowly, his stubbornness drained. Carefully, he set down his glass. “The bodies…” he exhaled. “Paul, they showed signs they’d been tortured. Electrocuted and the like. Sheriff said the thieves probably wanted the safe combination, and then burned the building to try to cover the evidence.”

  Cole swallowed.

  “And you’re absolutely certain it was them?” Ashe asked, a hint of desperation in her tone.

  “Their faces had been left untouched,” Ben told her reluctantly.

  His lungs still seemed to be operating, though Cole couldn’t figure out why. He knew Brogan. Simeon too. Even tangentially, even just a bit. But enough to see what they’d done. The message they’d left, after getting all the information they needed. The Blood had known – they had to have known – that the Merlin would come looking for their historians. Now that Cole had gone after Lily, now that Ashe was still alive, they would have anticipated the queen learning the Carnegeans’ location.

  And they’d made certain there’d be no doubt of the historians’ fates this time.

  “Did you know the Redmonds too?” he heard Sue ask gently.

  He glanced up. Her hands gripping the archway behind her, Ashe was staring at the floor, though her attention seemed far from the cream-colored tile. At the girl’s silence, Sue turned to her husband, and Cole could feel the concern aimed at him and Ashe alike.

  Uncomfortably, he looked down, grasping after something to keep their questions at bay. “Do they have any suspects?”