Resistance

by Allana Kephart

  Eirnin jumps down the last three steps and goes a bit ahead of me, looking into the room at the end of the short hallway. I follow after him and lean against the wall, trying to ignore the ache taking over my body. From my angle I can see the partial shape of a cage — a solid, flat piece of iron with a few bars melded onto it, holding up another flat piece of toxic metal. The final wall is still lying on the ground beside a small blowtorch.

  “What is all of this?” he asks quietly; poking his head in to see the cot, rolled up on a flat piece of wood. His brow furrows, making small lines appear on his forehead as he looks at me for answers.

  “Nothing major,” I say sarcastically. “We’re just kidnapping one of the Winter princesses and hoping not to die in the process. She’s smaller than Fi and passive and will probably be scared to death of us, but we’re going to put her in here anyway. She might die from the fumes but hey, it’s way safer for us.”

  His eyes grow wide as saucers and his jaw goes limp. He stutters out a few incoherent babbles and starts shaking his head, like he’d really rather not believe me. “Kidnapping one of the Winter princesses?” he blurts loudly, looking stunned. “Why in the hell would they do that? Are they trying to get us all killed?”

  Thank God someone else thinks this is a terrible idea. “It was mostly my idea,” I tell him. He looks like he’s about to call me stupid when I continue. “Sean’s idea was to kill her in some gruesome way and leave her on the king’s doorstep as revenge for possibly killing your parents. I merely tried to suggest a safer route.”

  Eirnin takes a few large steps away from the scene, shaking his head still. “Fi wouldn’t…” he starts, but his words trail off in quiet acceptance. He bites down on his lower lip. “I really wish I could convince her to stay away from that ass.”

  I look up at him, shocked by the comment. “So I’m not the only one who thinks he’s bad news?” I ask.

  “No, definitely not,” Eirnin continues. He looks like he’s going to be sick. “I’ve never trusted him. I don’t care that he’s family. He’s hiding something, something big. I know you might not understand, but I know for sure—”

  “Hey,” I cut him off. He’s more upset by this whole scenario than I thought he would be. “I trust you kid. I don’t like him either. You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

  Eirnin nods slowly at my statement and seems to calm down, if only a little. “I just wish she’d listen.”

  “Have you met your sister?” I ask, attempting futilely to lighten the tone again. For the second time today I’m struck with the realization I’m talking to a sixteen year old. “She does what she wants, most of the time.”

  His mood just darkens further. “Have you met her, Flint?” he asks. “She does what she feels she has to. I don’t know if she ever even considers what she wants.”

  I frown at the tone he’s taken on and immediately want to yell at Fi for her unintentional neglect of this kid. We’re about to enter another damn war, and it’s obvious to everyone but her that he needs his sister more than ever. I pull in a breath, about to reply — maybe even say Sean was just trying to avenge his parents — when I see a head of long black hair barreling towards us. I groan. “Oh, joy.”

  Eirnin looks confused by my remark and he follows my gaze. His shoulders tense at the sight. “Yeah, that about sums it up…” he mumbles.

  Fianna stomps down the hall like an angry boar. She doesn’t even look at her brother; rather, she gets right in my personal space and scowls up at me like I’m the devil incarnate.

  “Hey there,” I say, just to piss her off, and offer her my best shit-eating grin.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she replies loudly; her voice bouncing off the walls and coming back at us.

  “What, no hello? Rude.” I click my tongue at her. Eirnin takes a few steps back and I nod at him to let him know it’s okay to run for his damn life. I’m fine standing here trying to make smoke come out of Fi’s ears. “Well, I was having a conversation with your brother…” I shrug one shoulder, “but it was interrupted. How about yourself?”

  Her face is taking on a slight purplish hue. “What part of ‘I don’t want my brother involved in this’ did you not understand, Flint?” she asks, freakily calm.

  “Oh, I understood you perfectly, love. You were very clear.” Her eyes narrow into an even angrier glare when ‘love’ falls out of my mouth, but I continue on before she can whine at me not to call her that. “Funny thing, though, um…he’s not stupid.”

  “I am perfectly aware he’s not stupid!” she shrieks; her hands balling into fists. I keep my eyes locked on hers and wait for her to take a swing at me. Oh, that would be fun. “I don’t want him hurt by any of this! I—” She stops herself suddenly and forces her fingers to uncurl. She looks away from me, to the wall at her left, and takes a big, calming breath. She’s silent for a moment and then continues, much quieter. “Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you. I know Eir is perfectly capable of stumbling into things on his own.”

  I had my response at the ready until she added that last bit. I blink at her and cross my arms. “What do you mean he can ‘stumble into things’?”

  She gives me an incredulous look at the question and releases her tongue from between her teeth. “I mean, it was wrong of me to assume you brought him down here.”

  On any other occasion, I would have been happy to sit back and watch her almost-apologize. But right now it just makes my headache worse. My eyes roll up to the ceiling and I cover them with one hand. She can’t be serious. When I bring my eyes back to her level, she’s staring at me and waiting for a response. “Uh,” I begin. “No… You assume correctly.”

  She pauses. “What?”

  “I brought him down here,” I admit openly, again preparing to be attacked with knives. “I told him of your cousin’s stupid plan, and I tried to assure him that no one is gonna be gutted in the process.”

  She gapes at me for a full minute and lifts a hand as if to point at me. It’s shaking wildly; her mouth hanging open in an attempt to reply. Eventually she manages an, “Of course I was right,” and turns on her heel; muttering profanities under her breath.

  Now, a smart man would just drop this altogether. A smart man would let her go off and have her hissy fit, and then try to talk some sense into her in the morning. A smart man would respect the fact she carries multiple weapons that could inflict fatality upon anyone she so desired.

  I’ve still never admitted to being a smart man.

  Instead of doing the sensible thing, I push off the wall and storm after her. When my feet hit the ground of the main floor, I hear the screen door slam with force and follow it. I catch up as she’s taking off her sweatshirt and throwing it quite violently against the patio chair. She yanks a hair tie off her wrist and I jog to catch up, skidding to a halt in front of her. She freezes with both hands behind her head pulling her braid up in a bun, the rubber band caught between her front teeth. Her eyes lock on my face and challenge me to say something.

  “I understand that he’s your little brother,” I begin, “and you want to keep him safe. But he is not five years old anymore, Fi, and treating him like a baby is putting him in more danger than you’d like to admit.”

  She just keeps glaring at me. She pulls her hair tighter on her skull and yanks the band out of her mouth; pinning her locks behind her head in a messy bun. “Honestly Flint, my brother is none of your business.”

  “Excuse me?” It falls out of my mouth before I can stop it, and suddenly I’m mirroring her glare. I’m about to go off when she continues on, either oblivious to the spike in my temper or simply not giving two shits about it at all.

  “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going for a run. I recommend you go find something to do inside.”

  She steps past me, purposely slamming her shoulder against mine as she goes, and I have to fight the urge to tackle her to the ground. I force myself to laugh rather than scream. “Your hard head is gonna get some
one killed!” I shout after her.

  She doesn’t respond vocally, but her steps get faster as she disappears from view. I growl and turn away, only to find Sean leaning against the wall with a smirk firmly planted on his face. “Trouble in paradise?” he asks.

  I scowl. “Don’t you have something to finish in the basement?”

  It’s a weak response and I know it. My head is still with Fi, screaming unkind words at her retreating back, not figuring out how to make Sean hate me more. He chuckles a bit and shakes his head before walking back inside.

  Chapter 13—Fi

  June 2102

  Three days have passed since what I am now calling “The Great Cage Incident” in my head, and Flint hasn’t ventured out of his room much since our screaming match. I’m not really sure whether I should be relieved or annoyed by his absence. I understand his confusion and unhappiness at waking up in a house full of noise and deadly metals without any kind of notice. I can’t imagine how I would feel in his place. He has to cut me a little slack, though. This is uncharted territory for me. We’re talking about kidnapping a powerful Winter faery, and while he might think she’s harmless, we don’t know that for sure. I’m not taking any chances until I get a feel for her. I’m responsible for the safety of everyone inside these walls, and I won’t be made to feel guilty for trying to protect them.

  The sun is just barely up as I do my second lap of the day, and I suddenly hear very loud footfalls coming up fast behind me. I time my pace to the interloper’s and take a sudden step to the right while simultaneously reaching for the dagger I keep sheathed on the inside of my thigh. Whirling around to meet the unknown danger, I find myself facing my purple-faced cousin clutching his side and gasping for breath. I let the dagger hang limply from my hand with relief.

  “For heaven’s sake, Sean,” I gasp out. “What are you doing?” He leans over with his hands braced on his knees and gasps without speaking for several moments. I slide the dagger back into its sheath on the inside of my leg and shake my head at his idiocy. “When will you learn not to just appear behind me while I’m running?” I ask him for what feels like the thousandth time lately. “You could have had a gut full of iron for your troubles, you know,” I preach at him, starting to pick up speed with my rant. He holds up a hand to try and shut me up I’m sure, but I continue on. “Is someone in trouble?”

  “No — sorry,” he pants. “Wanted to make sure you were okay.”

  “Are you kidding me?” I rage at him. “Why wouldn’t I be okay? I run through this park every day! What is going on in your head lately? Hear me — please! I. Am. Fine. I don’t need you here protecting me from the trees while I run.”

  He’s beginning to look angry now, but I find I don’t care much. This is beyond ridiculous. He finally says, “You aren’t as safe as you think you are, Fianna.”

  I throw my hands up in the air in exasperation. “Sean — I’m fine! Who do you think is stalking me while I run, waiting for their opportunity to attack? Please enlighten me, because I can’t take this anymore. You’ve been like a miserable, paranoid shadow for months now. Back off!” I shout at him.

  “I’m not paranoid!” he yells back at me; his face turning darker with anger now. “You’re just blind to what is going on right in front of you!”

  “What exactly am I missing, Sean?”

  “I don’t trust the faery,” he says sullenly, looking at the ground. “I don’t think he should come when we go to retrieve the Winter Fae. It feels like a trap to me.”

  “Sean,” I say, trying to remain calm despite the anger pounding through me. “I trust him. He’s coming, and that’s final.”

  “You’re making a mistake,” he says simply. “Again.” And as fury rips through me I take off running again, away from him so I don’t hurl my dagger at his head.

  The nerve of him bringing up Hugh now spurs me to run even faster. I don’t trust myself not to turn around and attack him if I don’t put some distance between us. I beat myself up more than enough about trusting Hugh and getting my parents killed. When exactly Sean had become so angry and biased, I don’t know, but I don’t like it and I’m tired of dealing with it…more tired than I’ve ever been of anything ever before. I know my cousin had a hard time when he was younger; losing his father to the Fae on a supply run when Sean was only seven. There has always been more hatred in his home than mine, but I can’t help but feel that he’s using it as an excuse to make himself feel superior. My parents were murdered by the Fae as well, but I hold onto what I was taught. My gran always said there are good and bad parts of everyone; Fae and human alike. You can’t ignore a trait in one species and vilify the other for it. What would we be trying to save if that was the case?

  I keep running; veering off the path I was taking and looping around by the oak tree where I first met Flint. The sun is all the way up and I feel its burn on my bared arms and legs by the time I notice I’m kicking every stone I can find on the path. I still feel the fury at Sean boiling just under the surface, and I know the day will most likely not get much better for me. I turn around and head towards home so I can try and avoid adding serious sunburn to my list of complaints.

  “Stupid, infuriating, overgrown ass!” I hiss as I slam the back door behind me and stomp my foot for good measure. I’m home, I think to myself. I can finally throw a satisfying fit all by myself. Fuming, I stomp both of my feet on the kitchen floor again and again; picturing my cousin’s face each time I bring my feet down. He is the most infuriating oaf on the face of the planet, and I want nothing more than to punch him. I’m still muttering to myself when I hear chuckling and jump in response.

  Whirling around, I look up and find Flint standing by the coffee pot watching my display of temper and shaking his head. “I certainly hope you’re not talking about me.”

  I scowl at him. “For once, no. You may be an infuriating ass, but I’ve never considered you stupid. Looks like sparking my temper isn’t an exclusive ability of yours, after all.”

  I really don’t want to deal with any more difficult people right now, and I find myself wondering if I’ll make it through the rest of this impossible day without coffee. Sean has exhausted my patience for the month at this point. Flint isn’t showing signs of moving from in front of the machine, and I know if I go over there he’ll take that as me engaging. Do I need to be awake for the argument I know is about to take place between my brother and I when I inform him he’ll be staying next door while I’m away? I ponder this for a moment and then the need for caffeine wins out over my sanity when I see Flint grab a mug from the cupboard and fill it for me. Maybe he isn’t always a pain in the ass.

  “Well, shoot,” he says teasingly. “And here I felt so special. You take sugar, right?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I say, and he hands me the steaming mug after doctoring it for me. I feel a tiny bit better just knowing I have coffee in my possession. “You are officially not an ass right now,” I say.

  “I do believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He looks confused by my banter but not unhappy about it, and I grin up at him; telling myself the blush on my face is from my time in the sun and not the fluttering in my chest.

  It feels good to revel in lighter topics for once. "I’m not that mean to you," I say in an overly sweet voice.

  “I never said you were,” he says; leaning back on the counter and nursing his own coffee.

  “Maybe it was implied,” I mumble at him, and because it’s been bothering me, I lean into the counter a few feet away from him and say, “I think I need to apologize to you, Flint.”

  Flint shakes his head and sighs. He looks like he’d rather be talking about anything else. “Dare I ask for what?”

  I look up at him and try to convey my sincerity when I blurt out, "I should have warned you about the cage." I take a deep breath and rush on. "I meant to tell you, and then I didn't see you, and, um, everyone was telling me we should do it sooner rather than later. I'm just sorry you di
dn't find out from me beforehand."

  He blinks at me; opening his mouth to reply and closing it without speaking, and I feel even worse. “It’s alright, Fi,” he manages after a minute. “I understand.” He pauses. “While we’re apologizing, though, I... I’m sorry I yelled at you about Eirnin.”

  "That’s okay.” As I say it I realize I mean it. “He trusts you, you know. I'm glad he has you around to stick up for him. I know you have a point. I just — I can't let anything happen to him, Flint." I take a shaky breath. "I'd rather he was alive and hated me, than gone because I didn't look out for him."

  He frowns and I get the impression he understands how I feel better than he’d like to admit. “I had a little sister. Believe me, I know you want to protect him with all you have. But you do have to let him in on some things, or he’s gonna do something stupid and not even realize it.”

  "Have I mentioned that I kind of hate it when you're right?” I do my best to smile at him. “I'm working on it."

  “Get used to it, love.” He winks at me and then sobers.

  Looking at his unusually solemn face, curiosity gets the better of me and I decide to pry just a little. "You had a little sister? Did, I mean....never mind. I'm sorry; it’s none of my business."

  “It’s okay.” He looks into his coffee for a second; looking lost for words for once. “She, um...my dad and I got in a fight…and her and I were stupid, and we snuck out and I was careless and she…” He trails off and turns away from me to refill his coffee mug. “Short of things is she got hurt and I couldn’t save her.”

  My heart aches for him. I can’t imagine what I would do if anything were to happen to my brother, but I know Flint well enough by now to know he doesn’t want me to fuss over his grief. I wouldn’t want that either. He wants things to be normal.