Resistance

by Allana Kephart

  “Put me down, Eirnin!” I hear Fi croak from behind me, and turn to look at the Dolan siblings.

  “Christ, okay!” Eir says, setting Fi on her feet. “I’m just worried.”

  “I appreciate it, but I assure you I can walk,” she tells him. Her voice is raspy and I can see her shaking from here. She tugs at her clothes and tries to make herself look presentable again, like that makes the fear she just felt go away. I know her better now — I know when she pulls out bigger words she’s hiding the urge to hide under her bed forever. I remind myself I did this to save her and force myself not to look at the lifeless body at my feet and move over to them, handing Fi her knife.

  Her eyes widen when she sees how badly burnt my hand is and that her blade did it, and snatches it away. She opens her mouth to say something but no words come out. I speak before she can. “Let’s go.”

  Eirnin squeezes my shoulder and I make myself smile at him. He sees right through it but still doesn’t question me, and we head back to the house.

  Chapter 19—Fi

  July 2102

  By the time we get back to the house, Eir is practically pushing me through the door ahead of him. He hasn’t taken his hands off me for more than a second since we left the clearing where the faery is still laying. It’s like he’s afraid I’m going to disappear if he lets me go. I find that I am having trouble following one thought through to its conclusion. I hear him tell the guard in the backyard to wake Seamus and send him over. My lungs are still burning from their time without oxygen and I am shaking uncontrollably. As soon as we are in the kitchen, I turn on him and point a trembling finger at the kitchen table. “Sit, now — I want to make sure you’re okay. Don’t argue with me.” But my voice comes out as a rasp; my throat still raw from being deprived of air. Although I know no one actually laid hands on me, I feel as though I was choked rather thoroughly.

  I turn to see Flint looking at me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Love, I think you should take a seat before you fall over.”

  I scowl and take a few steps towards him. I want to look at his hand right away but my voice just isn’t working, and suddenly there isn’t enough oxygen in the room or maybe in my head, because I see the floor coming at me fast and then there are strong arms around me; catching me and laying me down gently. I hear voices telling me to breathe and shouting orders, but everything is fuzzy and sounds like it’s coming from far away. All I really want at this point is a cold drink of water for my ravaged throat and to sleep for a while. Then I feel a hand brush wisps of hair off my face and tap my cheek, and I see Flint’s face hovering above my own. “Fianna, take a breath. Breathe, love, breathe.”

  “I want to look at your hand, damn it,” I manage to say in my new raspy voice before everything goes black.

  When I wake up, Seamus, Flint and Eir are all situated around me and I’m lying on the floor in the kitchen. Confusion washes over me first, and when I struggle to sit up, three pairs of hands press me back down on the floor. “No, no, lass. Stay down for a moment, please. Breathe. We have water for you, too.” Seamus seems to be the spokesperson for the group. Eir pushes a glass of water at me and I lift my head a little to drink some gratefully. Some of it dribbles down my chin and I feel it run back into my hair. I open my mouth to thank him and Flint covers my mouth gently with a few fingers.

  “Don’t try to talk just yet, love. Just breathe and relax. We are fine,” he says firmly, motioning to himself and Eirnin.

  I hold my hand out to him and he slips his injured hand into mine with the palm up so I can look at it. The skin is burned away in the triquetra pattern from the hilt of my dagger in two different places. The wounds look red and angry, and his skin is stained rusty brown from the other faery’s blood. I feel tears prick my eyes, hating that my dagger did this to him. I look up and find Seamus ready with a wet cloth and the aloe. I smile at my uncle — of course he knows what I had in mind. My brother is suddenly behind me, supporting my weight, and Flint sighs resignedly as I get to work cleaning the wounds on his hand while I’m still half-lying on the kitchen floor.

  “You really do run things around here, don’t you?” he says with a tired version of his normal smirk.

  Humoring his ‘no talking’ rule I nod as emphatically as I can without passing back out, and get to work spreading aloe over his wounds. When I’m content that the wound is treated to the best of my abilities, I look up into Flint’s face and croak out, “I’m sorry you’re hurt because of me.”

  He shushes me immediately. “I’ll be fine. It’s not your fault, Fi.” But I can’t help feeling that he’s only trying to make me feel better.

  It isn’t long before my Aunt Ruth comes bustling through the back door with my youngest three cousins and baked goods. She has Eir help me into a chair at the table and sets to brewing some tea she says will help with the pain in my throat. “It won’t be long before people start arriving, Fi. I brought a few things in case anyone’s hungry. I don’t want to see you out of that chair, young lady.”

  I let out a groan. I didn’t think of the inevitable visitors who will crowd into our kitchen and demand answers and most likely justice, even though Flint has clearly taken care of that already. I look at my aunt, pleading, “Can’t you tell them all to come back tomorrow? I need a day off from them all.” At least four people yell at me to stop talking and I sigh; dropping my face in my hands and massaging my temples. “If I have to sit here, so do you, Eirnin! Don’t even think about running away! Has anyone checked his head?” I say without lifting my head.

  I hear someone pull a chair out and drop into it and look up to see my brother shaking his head at me. “You couldn’t just sit there silently, could you?” He lets out a gargantuan sigh as Ruth sets the steaming mug of tea in front of me. “You are—OW!” he exclaims when Ruth starts probing his head with her hands, looking for bumps and blood.

  I hide a grin behind my mug and take a tentative sip of the brew. It feels like heaven going down my aching throat. I look around the room, realizing that the people most important to me are all present. Flint is leaning against the hutch taking everything in silently, as I’ve learned is his way. Seamus has tasked his ten-year old twin sons, Cormac and Dillon with helping cut up pies and cakes that they brought over, while my aunt looks over Eirnin for any injuries. I motion to Neall, Seamus’ youngest and pull him into my lap. I am busy tickling his side and kissing his chubby cheeks, listening to him giggle when I realize Aodhan isn’t here. I open my mouth to ask Ruth where he is when I remember Lumi and look up in horror. What if the faery attacking us was just a diversion?

  “Someone needs to check on Lumi,” I croak out, trying to be calm so I don’t alarm Neall. My voice sounds stronger but still isn’t normal. My fear must be evident, though, because Flint straightens and crosses to me.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll look in on her and send Aodhan down,” he says quietly; laying his uninjured hand on my shoulder and giving a squeeze. “You stay here and listen to your aunt.”

  I watch him stride purposefully away and exhale a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I don’t even want to consider what would have happened tonight if Flint hadn’t been here. I blink the moisture from my eyes and return my attention to the squirming happy child in my arms, rather than the morbid possibility of what could have been. Aodhan comes galloping into the kitchen a few minutes later and I sigh with relief. He takes in the scene quickly, goes to his mother first and kisses her cheek, then comes to sit at the table with Eir and me. Only a few moments have passed when the first knock sounds at the back door. I sigh and sip some more tea. Something tells me I’m going to need my voice for what’s to come.

  The night passes in a barrage of people and unending questions. Thanks to the tea Ruth made me, my voice has come back, though it’s still much huskier than usual. I don’t remember ever speaking so much before in my entire life. And everyone asks the same questions: How did a faery get in? Is this related to the Winter princess be
ing here somehow? And then someone voices the concern that Flint was involved with the other faery gaining entrance. I don’t react well to that statement, I’m afraid. I had been letting Seamus do as much of the talking as possible, but when I hear a voice in the crowd yell out the possibility that Flint betrayed us, I stand up without thinking.

  “I can’t shout, obviously, but I want you all to listen very closely because what I am about to say is important.” I pause, my throat already aching. “Flint did not help the other faery get in. He saved Eirnin and I, and was wounded for his trouble. I don’t want to hear anyone else dare to suggest that he was involved with this. He has proven himself to be our ally beyond any shadow of a doubt, and I will not tolerate anyone berating his integrity.” I sit back down with my strength spent and find my brother beaming at me with pride.

  It is well into the wee morning hours when the last ten or so people are being ushered out the back door by Seamus. We sent Ruth home hours ago with the younger kids, and Aodhan is back upstairs with Lumi. After the last person has said goodnight, Seamus follows them out with a nod to us. Finally it is just my brother and I sitting at our kitchen table. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Eir look so exhausted; his normally happy countenance missing. Neither of us has slept in well over twenty-four hours at this point, and I can’t imagine I’m looking much better than he does. Taking in the disaster area of our normally tidy kitchen, I feel my very bones register their disapproval at the thought of tackling this mess tonight. The stacks of coffee cups, pie plates and silverware will keep until morning, I assure my aching body.

  I just barely resist the urge to lay my head down on the table and go to sleep, but then my brother’s deep voice startles me from my near catatonic state when he suddenly urges me, “You need to go check on Flint, Fi. He’s not doing well.” He takes a moment to look around at the mess and says, “Damn. They came, they bitched and they destroyed…”

  Trying to act like I didn’t just almost jump out of my skin, I raise my brow at him and grin. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I have no idea where he even is, Eir. And let’s not talk about the mess right now. I can’t take it.”

  “He’s been up in the library since he left Lulu. Go — we’ll take care of the mess in the morning,” he says; standing up and pulling me out of my chair. He hugs me to him before giving me a gentle push towards the hall. “No more sneaking out at night, I promise,” he tells me, easing my mind. I nod at him and try to smile, not trusting my voice. I can’t think about how I almost lost him, too.

  I ache everywhere and I’m seriously considering skipping my morning run as I climb the two flights of stairs to the library. By the time I reach the doors, I’m debating staying up here tonight rather than facing the climb back down to my bedroom. I can’t ever recall being this sore before in my life. Just entering the library makes my step a little lighter though, and I breathe in the smell of thousands upon thousands of books.

  I find Flint staring off into space, sitting on the sofa in the corner of the room looking like the slightest provocation might shatter him into a million pieces. “Hey,” I say gently. “Here you are. Eir and I were worried about you.”

  His shoulders tense for a second and he looks up at me. “Hey…um,” he glances away, grimaces and seems to try and collect his thoughts. “I’m, uh, alive, so I guess I’m fine.”

  Looking at him I feel worry take root in my chest. Eir was right — he is not okay. I take a step closer and gesture towards the sofa. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” I ask him.

  “Not at all.” He straightens a bit in his seat.

  Settling in, I tuck my feet under my body and turn towards him. “I don’t think I got the chance to thank you before. You saved Eir...hell, you saved me.” I find myself unable to continue, so I pick up his injured hand and press my lips to his palm. I hate that my dagger did this to him. I clear my throat. “Thank you for saving us, Flint.”

  Flint’s eyes lock on our hands for a minute, looking shocked, but then soften when they swing up to meet mine. “You’re welcome. But you don’t have to thank me.”

  I blush, realizing I’m still hanging onto his hand. I place it back in his lap gingerly and grin at him. “You might not think I have to thank you, but I really do. Now, do you want to talk about it? Don’t bother telling me you’re okay either, because I know you’re not. I’ve been told I can be a decent listener when I try.”

  “I...” His jaw is tight. “It’s complicated.”

  “Flint. Talk. To. Me. Please? I can handle complicated pretty well, if you hadn’t noticed,” I say slowly; resting my hand on his shoulder and squeezing. I feel his muscles relax the tiniest bit under my hand.

  “I’ve never killed anyone before,” he blurts and then swallows; turning his face in my direction but not looking any higher than my knees. “And, um… as you probably guessed, I knew him.”

  I shudder just remembering the horror of the night before; seeing my brother at the mercy of a sadistic faery is something I’m sure will haunt me for the rest of my life. “I’ve never killed anyone before, either. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

  “He wasn’t listening. As far as I’m concerned, I had no choice. He would’ve killed both of you.”

  I nod my head in agreement. “He certainly seemed to be bent on killing us.” I pause, not sure if I should press, and then ask, “How did you know him?”

  He’s quiet for a minute, then he looks at me and says, “I met him when I left my parents’ place. He helped me get out of the country and just...stuck around a while.” He shrugs. “I haven’t seen him in over...fifty years, give or take.”

  I wait for him to look me in the eye before I continue. “But he was your friend once. I’m sorry seems sorely inadequate.”

  “He always was a bullheaded little shit.” He frowns. “Fi... The man who went after you last night was not the same kid I was friends with. Don’t feel guilty about it, all right?”

  I try to smile at him, although I’m sure it isn’t a happy sight. “I’ll make you a deal, Flint. I won’t feel guilty if you won’t.”

  “That hardly seems like a fair deal.” He grins a little and something flutters in my chest. “In fact, I think that’s bribery.”

  I grin back. “You’re getting the idea now. Seriously though, don’t put the responsibility for his behavior on yourself. He brought this on himself when he came here with the intent to take my brother’s life.”

  "I know." He sighs. "It's just...it sucks, knowing I ended someone's life." He swallows again. "I don't recommend it."

  “Did you feel like you had a choice?” I ask, as ridiculous as I know it sounds.

  "Of course I had a choice." He looks over at me like it's the stupidest thing anyone’s ever asked him. "I chose you. And faced with the same choice, I wouldn't do anything differently."

  I hold his gaze and try to ignore the blush I feel covering my face. “I think you need to keep in mind that you were in an impossible situation and did what you thought was best. That's all anyone can do. You have to find a way to forgive yourself.”

  His mouth is working but nothing is coming out and I cringe; feeling like I have most definitely made things worse for him. I put my hand up between us, contrite and awkward. “I swear I'm not trying to make you feel worse. Just know that I'm sorry you had to do it and I'm grateful you saved us. I can leave you in peace if you like.”

  He hesitates again, seemingly dumbfounded by my idiocy, and then shifts to angle his body towards me. He licks his lips. “I’m going to say something, and I need you to try and hear me, okay?” He waits for my nod. “Last night, I didn’t save you because I felt I ‘had’ to. It wasn’t because it was best for Eirnin, or for your group, or because Quincy had it coming. I wasn’t thinking that far ahead.”

  Confusion settles over me when he meets my eyes, sincerity radiating from him. I’ve rarely seen him like this. “I’m confused,” I admit. “What are you trying to say, Flint?
”

  He opens his mouth and closes it again without speaking. I seem to have struck him dumb. If I wasn’t so confused by the turn this conversation has taken, I’d mark it as a victory. His amber eyes are hooked on mine and suddenly he’s a lot closer. His hand cups my cheek and then slides behind my head to bring me closer, and something clicks in my mind and I open my mouth to say, “Oh,” but his mouth is on mine and his kiss swallows it. I take a moment to think, So this is what it’s like to be kissed before coherent thought escapes me.

  Flint’s mouth is warm on mine, tasting of cinnamon, and his hand is firm on the back of my neck as he kisses me with an intensity that startles me at first. I’m floundering in the passion he’s building between us when I realize my mouth is open under his, my hands are in his hair and I am kissing him back with everything I am. He lets loose a quiet sort of growl and hooks his arm around my waist; pulling me onto his lap so I’m straddling him without ever breaking our kiss, his other hand still gripping my neck, holding me closer to him.

  My lungs feel as though they might burst at any moment; my pulse pounding and desire thrumming in my blood when his mouth leaves mine to explore my jaw. Bereft of conscious thought, I whimper and go for his mouth again, eliciting a chuckle from him. He evades my attempt and instead finds the spot where my neck and shoulder meet with his mouth and I gasp with pleasure.

  “Do you understand now, love?” he breathes, and I shiver in response.

  He’s leisurely kissing his way up my neck towards my ear when I feel him stiffen beneath me but he doesn’t stop. Upon reaching my ear, he whispers in it, “Your brother is on his way up here,” and I break out in goosebumps from his hot breath in my ear. Then I register what he said and panic surges through me; instantly cooling my desire.