Resistance

by Allana Kephart

  It’s cool in the library and I see that the large windows are open slightly to let the morning breeze blow in. I hear quiet swear words and clangs coming from the closet, and repress the urge to laugh at what I’m about to see. Moving further into the room I decide to call out, trying to warn her of my presence and not startle her (thus, saving me from a stabbing). “Started without me again, I see—” I cut off abruptly once I get in the doorway. “What the hell are you doing?”

  I was expecting to see a lot of things, but I wasn’t expecting to see Fi climbing the bookshelves. Her toes are curled on the edge of the third shelf, which has to be straining under the extra hundred pounds. She’s holding onto the second shelf with one hand and trying to tug a huge box over her head with the other. When I speak, she jumps and the shelf wobbles. “For heaven’s sake, Flint!”

  I ignore her attempt to scold me for walking silently and come up behind her, shaking my head. I reach up and brace one hand on the back of her thigh, the other on her opposite calf. “Get off of there before you break your damn neck.”

  She tenses under my touch and abandons her box, looking down at me over her shoulder. She’s flushed and trying to make her mouth work, but I can’t seem to figure out why because of my concern she’s going to kill herself accidentally. “I’m trying to reach the boxes on the top shelf, Flint,” she says innocently, her voice a bit higher than usual. “I was fine until you startled me.”

  “Love, that’s what a ladder is for.” I sound exasperated even to my own ears. “C’mon, then, step down. I’ll get them for you.”

  “I forgot the ladder,” she says shyly; looking away from me. “I didn’t want to go back downstairs. I’ve seen enough of that cage in the basement for a lifetime.” She looks heavenward and lets out a sigh, and finally her foot edges down to the lower shelf. My hands move to her hips and I lower her to the floor; not moving away from her until I’m sure she’s steady.

  It’s then that my stupid, sleep deprived brain realizes why she’s blushing. I have her pinned between a bookshelf and myself, with one hand cupping her hipbone and the other on her waist. She’s pressed so close to me that if I ducked my head, my mouth would meet her neck, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from doing just that. I could punch myself, but instead I take a huge step backwards and give her some space. She coughs and drops her head, and I say intelligently, “Good. Awesome. Um…” Asshole. “I’ll get it.” And then I run out of the room.

  I swear to God I have never been this ridiculous. I feel like my brain melted into a great big ball of wax the minute my mouth met hers, and it hasn’t been working to full capacity since. She hasn’t said anything about the kiss at all, and I get the feeling she’d like to pretend it never happened. I can understand that — Why would she want to date a faery anyway? — but I still find myself trying to ignore the stinging feeling in my chest when she’s unable to look me in the eye.

  I pick up one of the wooden chairs beside the wall and consider slamming it against my head for the thought. I’ve been turned into an obsessive twelve-year-old with a crush on someone I have no chance with, by a pair of gorgeous green eyes and long black hair. What sucks even more is that it’s far past physical attraction, and this emotional piffle is something I don’t know how to ignore. I’ve recognized the girl is beautiful since the moment I got here, but her heart is what drew me in. I have no idea how to make the lightheartedness and ease she gives me stop.

  All I can do at this point is try and follow her lead, and hope she’ll stop looking at me like she thinks I’m a pervert. I’d rather be her friend for the rest of my life than lose her because I’m just plain stupid sometimes. I shake these thoughts away and set the chair down where Fi was previously scaling the walls and hop up on it. She’s still standing where I left her, but her back is against the shelves now and she watches as I lift the box off the shelf. Why anyone would put books in a box, I don’t know. It makes it impossibly heavy and difficult to move. I don’t share the fact that the thing weighs more than I do, of course, and instead hop down and set it on the chair where I just stood. “See?” I say breezily, pretending I didn’t almost just break my back. “Much safer.”

  She looks up at me and then at the box. “Thank you,” she says quietly; sounding breathless and meeting my eyes once again before she glances at my mouth. Again feeling like an adolescent fool, I feel a spark of anxiety shoot up my spine and catch my lip between my teeth. What the hell is she staring at me like that for, anyway?

  I need medication. She’s going to give me a heart attack. I can feel it coming.

  “So, um,” I say, again sounding very brilliant and smooth. “No luck yet?”

  Her face flames red again and she starts tapping her lower lip, a habit that is not helping my brain. I remind myself I really can’t pin her up against the shelves and kiss her senseless again, even though there’s not much else I’d like to do. She shakes her head. “Uh, no. Not yet. There aren’t any of Gran’s in here that I’ve found yet. I keep hoping, though.”

  “Well, we have plenty more boxes to look through. I’m sure we’ll find something,” I tell her and she tries to smile at me. I squeeze her shoulder. “How about I grab another box and we start digging?”

  She nods and I push the heavy box aside, climb back up and grab one for me to look through, and we each start plowing through the crates.

  There isn’t a clock in the room so I don’t know how much time has elapsed, but we each tackled three boxes and the sky outside has gone from blue, to orange, to a slightly pinkish gray, and we still haven’t said another word to each other. Fi found a few journals that belonged to her dad, and I found countless fiction novels (some of them far from PG), but nothing to suggest we have instructions for the end of the world in our possession. Fi is about to fall asleep in her current box when loud footfalls approach and her head snaps up.

  Aodhan pops his head in the room and gives us a slightly disgusted look when he sees us on the floor, assuming he’s interrupted something highly personal and I give him a disapproving glare. Fi picks up the look too and flushes deeply. “What is it, Aodhan?” she asks.

  “Dad sent me,” he pants. “The princess and Eirnin asked for you both.”

  Fi looks at me questioningly. I shake my head to tell her I have no idea what they need, and she gestures for Aodhan to lead the way; jogging quickly down the steps. Lumi is standing beside Eirnin looking even whiter than usual, and she keeps glancing at Seamus in shock. Eirnin has a hand on her waist and the size difference is startling. He whispers something to her and she nods and softly says, “I’m okay.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask, looking between the three of them. Fi’s mouth snaps closed before she repeats me and she nods, blushing for some reason.

  Lumi looks at Fi with pity and I almost ask her again. She swallows and shakes her head. “We should go to the kitchen,” she says. “You two might want to sit down for this.”

  Fi looks like she might be sick but nods anyway, and we follow as Eir leads Lu to a seat after grabbing her a robe from the bathroom to keep her covered, most likely reading her discomfort over the tiny blue nightgown. He helps her sit down and immediately takes the seat beside her, looking terrified she might faint. I pull Fi’s chair out for her and she nods to me; sitting down and bracing her hands on her lap. Seamus pats Aodhan on the back. “You can head on home now, son. I’ll take care of her.”

  Aodhan nods gratefully, looking half asleep, and doesn’t even try to weasel his way into sticking around for whatever information is about to be spilled. Fi makes sure the door is closed behind him before looking to Lumi. “What’s going on?” she asks.

  Lumi looks lost. Her mouth opens and closes without sound, and she keeps glancing at Seamus. “Your dad…” she says with a sad look at Fi, but that’s all she manages.

  The blood rushes out of Fi’s face so fast, I’m surprised she doesn’t fall out of the chair. I take the seat next to her and put a hand on her shoulder to steady h
er as she hits the back of it. “What about my dad?” she asks just above a whisper.

  Eirnin grabs Lumi’s hand under the table and she starts, looking at him. “You can tell us,” he says just as softly.

  She bites her lip and nods; keeping her eyes on the ground. “He’s…he’s not dead.” Fi’s jaw clenches and she grabs my hand from her shoulder; hanging onto me and I squeeze her hand. She looks like she’s going to cry. “He was alive when you guys came and, um…got me.”

  “I knew it,” Eirnin murmurs, mostly to himself and looking close to tears.

  “How can you be so sure?” Fi asks, grasping at straws. “I mean, they could’ve just been saying that.”

  Lu shakes her head. “His name is Patrick Dolan and he looks just like Seamus. And he was always talking about his kids, saying that he needed to get back to you and that he missed you. He never told me names because he was worried someone would overhear us and use you both against him.”

  “So you talked to him personally?” I ask as Fi’s grip on my hand tightens.

  She nods and looks like she might cry, too. “I snuck down there to see him all the time. Made sure he got food and such.” She looks at her lap, probably at Eir’s hand. “He was always so nice to me. Treated me like family and always told me not to get in trouble on his account.”

  Fi’s hand is shaking in mine, and when I look at her I see her eyes are fluttering. The only color left on her face is her freckles, which stand prominently against her pale cheeks. I lean over and whisper, “Breathe, love,” in her ear and she pulls in a giant gasp; licking her lips before looking at me with wet eyes.

  Seamus moves off the counter and takes a few steps toward the windows, shaking his head. He’s got a light green hue taking him over. Eirnin doesn’t look any better. He’s covering his face with one of his hands and trying to breathe like Fi.

  “You mean…” Fi speaks up suddenly. “He’s there right now? Alive and well, and we…I left him there?”

  Lumi’s eyes grow wide and she starts shaking her head. “No!” she says loudly. “No, Fi, you didn’t know.” She looks horrified, and for a moment I think she’ll jump up and hug Fi. “There’s nothing we could have done — he’s in the lowest levels of the dungeon, in complete isolation. There’s no way we could’ve snuck him out without getting caught.”

  Fi tries to smile at her but it’s obvious she can’t make it happen. I move the hand she’s not clutching to the back of her neck and rub small circles against the top of her spine.

  “It’s not your fault,” Lu says as if reading Fi’s thoughts, and when Fi opens her mouth to respond, the back door swings open and slams against the wall beside it.

  “You are such a stupid bitch!” Sean bellows; storming in and leaning over Lu in her chair. She shrinks back, eyes wide and focused on the long, ugly scar forming on the taller man’s face. “How dare you open your mouth and give them false hope? Who the hell do you think you are?”

  “Hey—” I start when he reaches forward to grab her neck, but before I can even get out of my seat, Eirnin is up and grabbing Sean’s shirt and throwing him back.

  “Piss off, you coward!” Eirnin snaps, looking downright terrifying. Seamus moves to Lumi’s side and has her stand behind him, looking at the boys with complete boredom. “You went at her with a knife? She’s little! And she’s Fae; she can’t lie!”

  “She’s a damn monster, punk ass brat,” Sean says; stepping toward Eir and getting in his space. “You’re just like your sister, defending some sparkly whore—”

  Eirnin swings the second the word falls out of his mouth, and Sean’s head snaps back when a fist connects solidly with his nose. Lumi and Fi both make duplicate sounds of shock, and Fi tries to get over and break them up.

  “Sean!” Fi shouts angrily, but I push her back down in her chair and stand up. Sean lifts a hand to swing back at Eir and is met with a wall of flames. Eir scrambles backwards and looks at me and I flick my hand to slam the fire into Sean and knock him on his ass before making it dissipate in a large puff of smoke. Sean curses and hacks, one hand covering his bleeding nose, the other swung over his face to hide from the heat. I shake my head and look at Eir, who is looking at me with something between confusion and amazement. “You’re scaring Lumi,” I tell him calmly. “Go sit down before something gets broken over this asshole’s head.”

  Eir nods silently and immediately goes back to Lumi, who smacks his arm and takes his hand, making sure he didn’t hurt himself. You’d think they’d known each other for years with the way they interact.

  “You’re a dead man!” Sean hacks at me, rolling onto his front. Even though he looks like a pile of road kill, Lumi still flinches at his voice.

  “Please give me a reason to roast you alive, man,” I reply with a half-laugh and take a step toward him. “Just open your mouth one more time.”

  “Get him out of here, please,” Fi says to Seamus, sounding eerily calm. She comes up behind me and waits until Sean is hefted to his feet. “You are no longer allowed in this house. If I see you anywhere near here, I swear I will exile you. Now get out.”

  Sean stares at her and shakes his head—I’m surprised to realize he almost looks hurt. He shrugs Seamus off of him and runs out of the building, and I poke Fi’s side. She squirms a little and looks up at me. “Thank you.”

  I shrug, but smile at her nonetheless.

  “You’re shaking,” I hear Eirnin say to Lumi, who shakes her head at him.

  “I’m fine,” she insists. “Just…I don’t like him.”

  “I’m so sorry he did that to you,” Fi says to her with a deep frown. She seems very put together, and again I want to wrap her in my arms and tell her to stop shutting down on us. “I have no excuses for him.”

  “It’s perfectly okay, Fianna. You had nothing to do with it,” Lu says.

  “I think we all need to turn in for the night,” Seamus finally speaks up. “It’s been a long, stressful evening, and a nice rest is exactly what we need. We can discuss Patrick further in the morning.”

  Even Fi nods in agreement at that. Eirnin is glued to Lumi’s side and tells Seamus he will take watch for the night, as he probably won’t be able to get to sleep. I tug on Fi’s elbow before she can intervene and lead her down the hallway, back to her room. She doesn’t fight me much, and then digs her fingers into her eyes and shakes her head. “I just can’t believe him.”

  “Maybe he sat on a tack a few months ago and just hasn’t been able to get it out of his ass yet,” I offer, trying to raise her spirits. She snorts and gives me a look; pushing my shoulder a bit. “Shut up, Flint,” she says, but she’s smiling at least.

  I smirk at her. “You have a good night, okay?”

  “I’ll try,” she says. “I’m gonna read for a bit.”

  “Good.” I smile at her. “I’ll see you in the morning. Don’t stay up too late.” And with that, I leave her to her own devices.

  It’s sadly early in the morning, somewhere around two a.m., when I am awakened by a bloodcurdling scream in the next room over. It reverberates off the walls and echoes through the halls and ventilation, but no one comes pounding down the hall to see what’s going on. Instantly assuming the worst, I kick the sheets off my legs and do my best not to land on my face as I jump out of the bed and toward the sound of the yelps — on the other side of Fi’s door.

  In the split second I’m considering what to do, I realize I don’t look very frightening in a pair of black boxer shorts and nothing else, but I can’t bring myself to give a shit with the violent noises coming out of her room. I feel my hands start to spark as I shoulder through the door and when I lift them, I pause.

  The room is empty. A soft breeze rustles the blinds by the open window, and if you don’t look at the bed the room is quite peaceful. A worn paperback copy of The Third Victim by Lisa Gardner is flipped open on the floor, thrown by the thrashing girl in the bed. Her eyes are screwed shut and she’s tangled horribly in the sheets, which only increase
s her panic as the thin fabric restricts her movements.

  “Fi?” I try quietly first; moving over to the side of the bed and catching her flying fists in my hands, having no desire to get my nose broken. Her eyes snap open at the contact but she stares past me, still trapped in a nightmare.

  “I’m sorry,” she’s saying to the ceiling in a broken sob. “I’m sorry, Daddy…I’m so sorry.”

  I mutter a small curse and get on the bed; pinning her flailing body against the mattress and yelling her name. Her back arches off the bed, she lets out a horrified shriek and I grab her face to make her head stop banging around. “Damn it, Fi, look at me!”

  She freezes suddenly, seeing me over her, and she pulls in a loud breath. “Flint?” she pants, confusion overwhelming her features.

  I let out a relieved sigh and push her hair off her face gently, watching as she struggles to take in a steady puff of air. She has the same desperate expression on her face as when she was sprawled on the kitchen floor, and I want to find a paper bag and make her breathe into it for a moment. “You were having a nightmare,” I tell her quietly, leaving my fingers in her hair while she stares at me, looking lost.

  She starts shaking her head and her breath hitches a few times, and then she hides her face behind her hands. “I’m sorry I woke you,” she says shakily, her face completely hidden. “You can go now, I’m fine.”

  Frowning, I wrap my hands around her wrists and pull them down. She’s pale and her eyes are closed, and if I weren’t so close I wouldn’t even notice her eyelashes are damp. “Fi…”

  She is stuttering around air and she pulls away from me again, sitting up and pulling in huge, ragged gasps, her hands covering her face. I sit there for a moment, hoping she’ll get her lungs under control, with my hand on her ankle. “Easy…”