by A. L. Tyler
“Aren’t you afraid they’ll be able to track us with GPS?” She asked.
“This phone isn’t traceable.”
“Oh, really?” Lena doubted that his untraceable cell phone was legal by Council standards; but then, they were already traveling illegally, attempting to locate, possess, and return a relic illegally, carrying a concealed weapon, which was probably illegally acquired, and driving in a car that she doubted Griffin held the title to. In effect, she had just purposely misled a Council representative concerning her whereabouts, which was grounds for immediate expulsion from the Council. Legality wasn’t exactly a big thing in her life right at that moment.
Though Griffin stated his intent to drive through the night early in the day, he tired quickly and they had to stop around dusk. Despite twenty minutes of persuasion, Griffin was not willing to let Lena drive, even if it meant getting a little further away from anyone that might be chasing them; he stopped in the first semi-large town they could find to check them into a hotel. He put on a thick jacket and kept it on until they were in the room to hide the dried blood stain on his shirt.
Once in the hotel room—Lena guessed it must have been about a three-star from the amenities—Griffin’s cell phone started ringing. He checked who was calling, and then promptly turned it off, grabbed his backpack, and headed for the bathroom.
“It was Howard,” he mumbled as he walked past Lena.
She went and sat on the edge of her bed and waited for Griffin to finish changing the bandages on his shoulder; there was a black and white picture of a sunset over the beach on the opposite wall over the television. A single wooden reclining chair was settled amongst the reeds, and off to the right there was a long pier hanging over the tumbling water. Though she had been many places, she had never spent much time around commercial beaches because the sand got all over everything in the suitcases and then became impossible to remove. She had enjoyed her time on the beach while visiting the Masons in Australia; maybe after all of it was over, she would spend an extended vacation at a beach house. Since she had already seen the world, and it wouldn’t be the same without Aaron anyways, she might even decide to live on the beach someday.
Griffin came back out of the bathroom, with fresh bandages and in nightclothes, and tossed the backpack into a corner before collapsing onto the other bed. “We’re leaving early, so you might want to sleep now. Don’t answer the door or the phone. If anyone knocks or the phone rings, wake me up.”
Lena got up and tried to inconspicuously grab the bag with the bandages in it before heading off to the bathroom, but Griffin saw.
“All of your stuff’s in the other bag.” He mumbled, closing his eyes again to try to sleep.
“I know.” She knelt down and tried to quickly and quietly extract what she needed.
Griffin cracked an eye again. “I told you, all of your stuff’s in the other bag. What are you doing?”
Lena closed her eyes tightly for a moment, bracing herself for what was coming. “I got a cut while we were running, and I need a new bandage.”
Griffin sat up and gave her a questioning look, as though she might have been joking. Then he got up and walked over. “You should have told me.”
He grabbed the bag and walked with Lena to the sink, where he set the bag down, opened it, and looked at her, waiting.
“I can do this myself. I did it this morning.” She gave him an annoyed glance as she started to reach for the bag again.
“You don’t know what you’re doing. Now, we can lose sleeping time fighting about this, or we can do it my way now.” He kicked the bag behind him and out of her reach, gave her an exhausted but stern look, and crossed his arms.
Lena stared at him for a moment, then acquiesced. She rolled up her pants leg and sat down on the suitcase stand in the inset closet space that was opposite the sink area. Carefully, she unwrapped her leg and peeled off all the gauze. The wound had finally scabbed over, and while it was still a jagged mess, it was looking better than she had ever seen it. “See? It’s not that bad.”
Griffin knelt down and gave her a disapproving look. He awkwardly brought his left hand to her injured right knee and settled it with his thumb just under the cut. His touch was warm and firm. “You needed stitches. Who helped you with this?”
If she had been in more of mood to fight, she might have called him on thinking that she couldn’t have done it herself. “The woman back at the church. I told her I didn’t want any hospitals or doctors—I know how the Council feels about public records.”
Griffin cocked an eyebrow. “I think you could have made an exception for this.”
“Right. But it’s fine now, so skip the lecture.” She doubted he would have been so generous if she actually had gone to a hospital—after all, he had been shot and hadn’t seen it as reason enough to seek professional help. Griffin had gone back to staring at the twisted, bloody scab that trailed from one side of her knee to the other in a sort of lop-sided crescent. He ran his thumb very gently across it, transfixed. “Griffin?”
He looked back up at her quickly, then sighed and started pulling supplies out of the bag. After doing a quick cleaning with the disinfectant, he re-wrapped her with a clean bandage and taped it in place.
“Get some sleep now. It’s going to be a long drive tomorrow.”
Lena stood up. “Yeah, you said that earlier today, too. Really, how bad is it? Your shoulder?”
Griffin got up and walked away across the room. He sat back down on his bed. “I told you. Not bad.”
Lena went over and sat next to him. “Not bad, or not bad for a gunshot wound?”
He looked over at her but didn’t say anything. Lena averted her eyes, unsure of what to say. He had to be in a lot of pain, but he wasn’t showing it. He never showed much of anything in the way of what he was feeling, unless it was anger; Daray had turned him into someone who could lead. He had practically cloned himself in mood and manner, except that Griffin was still young enough to not have developed his God complex yet. When Daray was gone, though, Lena knew it wouldn’t take long. Having so much power would have an effect on anyone.
“Howard’s going to kill us when we get back.” Lena kept her eyes off in the corner. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, with both palms flat on the comforter at her sides.
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
For a moment, Lena wasn’t sure if he was being serious or not. She slowly looked over, saw that he was smiling, and let out a small giggle. Then Griffin’s expression changed, as fickle as the weather, and he was serious again.
“I’m sorry about Ava.” He said mournfully. “And everyone else, too. I’m sorry that all of this happened to you.”
Lena looked away. She wished he hadn’t brought it up, but somewhere deep she knew it was time. She stared hard into the dark and empty television screen across the room that was reflecting the two of them on the bed. “It’s okay. It’s not like you could have done anything that would have changed it.” She paused. “Besides, it’s all really my fault…”
When Griffin didn’t respond, she knew it really was her fault. She was horrified; but felt compelled to know. Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Who else, Griffin?”
He took a long time in answering. “Master Spelman, Master Baker, Master Weller, and Master Brendon were all killed during the attack. Master Rivera suffered a collapsed lung and lost a lot of blood, and they did everything they could for him, but he died last night. His son, Jason, made it down in time, though; he was on the recovery team. Everyone else is in fair condition; I think you were the only one who wasn’t shot.”
Lena let herself fall backwards onto the bed; Matias Rivera was dead. He’d been one of the only ones who had ever believed her; the first Council member to take the time to know her as a person and not as Pyrallis Daray’s granddaughter. He was an honorable man; she had killed an honorable man. She wasn’t sure if she was more sad or appalled. She hadn’t felt what she was feeling since the t
rain accident in Egypt, but even that hadn’t been her fault. She had killed a good friend and her own mother—and people were right, it had been out of her own selfishness. She started thinking about the families—the ones the Representatives rather would have been with; the ones they would never be returning to. Many times over, she should have listened to the people who had told her not to leave Waldgrave.
Tears were slowly trickling down her face again, and she was too disturbed to bother wiping them away. Griffin was still sitting on the edge of the bed. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare.
It’s not your fault. This didn’t happen because of you.
“It did. It happened because I made people come out here.”
Griffin turned around and laid down next to her and pulled her into a hug with his uninjured arm. It’s not your fault. Don’t blame yourself.
But she couldn’t see how she could not blame herself. She was selfish; the only reason she wanted to find the portal was for her own personal gain, and she didn’t even care about the rest of the lives she would destroy in the process. Maybe she was like Ava; maybe she should have listened to Ava, and taken the arranged marriage. Her life would have been a lot simpler; maybe she would even have been happier.
*****
CHAPTER 13
“Yes. Two beds.”
The concierge, a thin man with a cartoon-like mustache took the money from Aaron. He turned and smiled at Lena, who was sitting gracefully atop her suitcase with a book held open in her hand. The lobby was done up in reds and golds; it hadn’t been updated since the seventies.
“You’re going to love Egypt. We’re going to see the temples and the pyramids, and hopefully some mosques. It’s one of my favorite places…”
“I know, dad. You’ve told me.”
“Oh, well…You’ve never seen it! There’s so much history, and so much art. I admit, the food has never agreed with me, but—“
“The food never agrees with you. Even those hamburgers in Australia at that place…you know the place. You were sick for a week!” Lena giggled.
“Oh, now that’s not funny!”
“It so was…you couldn’t stand, you couldn’t sit, you couldn’t be in a moving car…you’re such a baby when you’re sick.”
Aaron’s eyes got wide. He smiled. “I’m the baby? You can’t even drive!”
“I can too! In some countries!” The concierge pushed a key across the counter at Aaron. “Thanks…”
“Oh!” Lena got up off of her suitcase and walked up to the counter. “Can I have some extra soaps and shampoos?”
“Of course, Miss.” The concierge smiled and walked into a back room. There was a radio on, and the sound was drifting out through the door.
“ ‘The food doesn’t agree with me…’ You’re so sensitive and picky.” Lena looked around at all the other people in the lobby. A young man, who looked vaguely familiar to her, was standing off in the corner. What was his name? She knew him from somewhere… She finally looked down at her book. “Do you think we could find a bookstore here? I’ve been through this one a few times now. I need a new one…Dad?”
Some bus boys were starting to collect their suitcases onto the elevator. Aaron was staring off across the lobby, he had gone pale. He turned to the bus boys. “No! No, we’ll take it from here.” As the bus boys pushed the suitcases back out into the lobby, Aaron turned and smiled at his daughter. “I just remembered. A friend recommended a hotel to me. We should try staying there. Are you up for an adventure?”
Lena briefly looked around the lobby. The young man…David?...made brief eye contact with her before looking back at the paper he was carrying. “Okay…”
He slapped the key back onto the counter. “Come on. Get your suitcase—I think we could still catch the bus if we hurry.”
Lena grabbed her suitcase and followed her father out of the lobby. Very solemnly, David had folded up his paper and followed them out. They ran through the streets to the bus station; the next bus to Karnak didn’t leave until morning. Aaron was looking anxious.
“Dad, it’s no big deal! We can sleep here tonight. We slept in bus stops plenty of times…”
“Not tonight. I…We already have plans for tomorrow, and I really don’t want to miss out on them. We’ve got to keep looking.”
They went back out into the dark streets, where David was still waiting, standing and watching Lena from a dark doorway of a closed shop. There weren’t any taxis available, but Aaron kept walking quickly, checking over his shoulder every few seconds to be sure that Lena was keeping up. Finally, they stopped. Lena was panting.
“Geez! Can’t we just get up early tomorrow, or something?”
Aaron scanned the streets as though he were looking for a magic carpet to appear and whisk them off to their hotel. David was still hanging just thirty feet behind them; always there. The clear, husky noise of a train whistle cut through the air; a smile lit upon Aaron’s face. He started running down the street, his wheeled suitcase loudly protesting as it clattered across the even sidewalk.
“Dad!” Lena broke into a sprint to catch up with him. “What the--?”
“The railway! It’s always open, it’s always busy! We’ll catch a train!”
The next morning, she woke up to find Griffin still soundly asleep with his arm thrown over her. She watched him anxiously, unsure why she had managed to alter her dream the way she had. He had looked so young in that dream; very much the way she remembered him from her first few weeks at Waldgrave. He was different now. She was different, too.
They were the only two people in the world who understood what it was like to become a Daray, not having been born as such, and yet they were worlds apart. They had spent so much time together, and yet she couldn’t say she had ever felt more than slightly fond of him. They were just too different; he was so preoccupied with the sanctity of the family, the books, and the myth of the portal—a true modern crusader of Silenti religion. Lena could not understand him; she wanted her freedom back, and she certainly wasn’t the holy figure Griffin liked to believe she was. She wasn’t the ideal he had come to worship, or an object created for him to protect. He had studied her family extensively, and probably knew more about her even than she did, but he did not understand her at all.
It was a cruel trick of God that they were perhaps the only people in the world with a chance to understand each other so completely, and inherently they never would. As light broke, and Lena’s head started to clear away the hysteria of the previous evening, she knew Ava had been wrong. She wouldn’t have been happy married to Griffin; he could not give her what she needed. He didn’t understand what it was like to have the foundations of life shattered, and then have to start over. In many ways, he had lived a very sheltered life in that respect.
Maybe someday. She was willing to acknowledge that they were certainly making progress—he was finally starting to treat her as an adult. As someone who was neither more holy nor less intelligent than himself. They were beginning to foster what could someday be a healthy friendship, and who knew, if someone had told her last year where she would be and what she would be doing now, she probably would have found the whole idea laughable. She laid there, just watching him sleep peacefully and wishing she could do the same, until a knock came at the door and Griffin sat bolt upright.
He was across the room with the gun in his hand looking through the peephole in the door before Lena even knew what was going on. He hid the gun just behind the door as he opened it and exchanged words with the hotel staff; apparently, check-out time was drawing near. Griffin closed the door and turned on Lena; he was looking much paler than usual, and he had bled through his bandages again.
“You should have woken me up.” He yawned.
“You should have set the alarm.” She shrugged.
He gave her a half-hearted glare, changed the bandages on his shoulder and her knee, and then they packed up their few belongings together. Thirty minutes later found them on the road a
gain, headed north for Oklahoma.
“I had another dream.” She said casually.
Oh?
“Yeah. It was kind of confusing. I was in Egypt again, but you were there. What’s that supposed to mean?”
Griffin was silent for a moment. He only glanced over at her once. Well, it’s probably just a dream. It could be derived from the fact that we’re traveling together now the way that you traveled with him back then.
Lena sat back and thought. It made sense; she had been hoping for something a little bit deeper, given that the dream had presented itself in a very Silenti-ish fashion, but she was willing to concede the fact that some dreams were just dreams. They drove on for several hours; around mid-afternoon, Griffin pulled in at an abandoned rest stop to check his bandages. When he got up, it became evident that he had started bleeding out the back of the wound from the stain forming on the driver’s seat upholstery. She got out of the car and followed him into the men’s room, catching him just as he took his shirt off.
“I told you to stay in the car!” He hissed.
“Okay, we both know it isn’t safe to leave me in the car alone, and you’re obviously doing this wrong somehow.” Lena crossed her arms and glared at him. Sure, it was a bullet wound, but he was a Silenti. His body should have at least stopped the bleeding by now. This wasn’t the place to be changing bandages, either; like most of the public rest stops around the country, it was filthy. It reeked of mold and mildew, which was a slight improvement over the smell of urine that Lena had expected.
“I’m fine.” Griffin sulked. “Go back to the car.”
“You’re not. You can’t reach it, so just let me help you.” Griffin glared at her tersely; it didn’t matter how many times he did it, because Lena was always intimidated, but she tried not to look like it. She did her best to shrug it off. “You’re no good to me dead.”
Seeing that she wasn’t leaving, he sighed and turned around. The bandage he had put on that morning was completely soaked through. He hadn’t taped it on well, and it was hanging by a strand. Lena reached up and carefully pulled it off.